Pensilvania: Where Bogotá's Trash Starts a New Life

An employee works in a warehouse amongst mountains of paper to be recycled. 

If you thot you'd seen the last of that trash you threw out last week, think again. Fortunately, if almost secretly, a lot of it gets sorted, collected and made into something else in a west-central neighborhood with the surprising name of Pensilvania.

To this industrial neighborhood of steel and concrete, trucks, horsecarts and human-pulled carts arrive loaded with metal, paper and other scrap, which is stored in huge warehouses, where it's sorted and then shipped out again to factories which transform the material into products which you might buy again.

A truck carrying scrap metal pulls into a warehouse. 

It's a crucial activity for this city. Bogotá's conspicuous trash crisis has overshadowed the unseen crisis of the city's almost full landfill. The landfill is expected to fill up this year, and Bogotá has no ready alternative. That's why recycling the city's waste - and reducing the amoung of material we consume - are crucial for the city's future.

The recycling industry developed in Pensilvania (I couldn't learn the origin of the neighborhood's name) because of the many industries located here, many of which produce chemicals.

A sign advertises cardboard boxes. 

Recycling is done mostly by individuals and small organizations, which are just now being formalized. The recicladores, who have been living off of our trash for generations, are just now being integrated into the municipal trash collecting/recycling scheme, altho any Bogotá resident will tell you that the shift hasn't gone smoothly. Starting soon, recicladores are to be paid for each kilogram of material they bring to one of the warehouses, in addition to selling whatever's valuable.

Trucks lined up on a Pensilvania street. 

Bogotá's recicladores, known formally and politicaly correctly as trash pickers, have been recognized globally for their organization. But that has involved lawsuits and conflicts with industrial recyclers. The best-known of those conflicts was with the sons of ex-Pres. Alvaro Uribe, who had established an industrial scale recycling enterprise, which threatened to take away the independent recicladores' livelihoods.

Men walk past a lot piled high with scrap metal. 

A lottery salesman offers his tickets. 

The neighborhood has almost no green space, and this metal tree doesn't make up for that. 

An old truck - part of the reason why Puente Aranda's air is so polluted.

A horsecart passes thru Pensilvania. The horse-drawn vehicles are supposed to be phased out this year. 

A nearby plant. 

The old slaughterhouse, located nearby. It's being converted into a library (I believe).

Factory workers play football in the street. The neighborhood has almost no green areas or public space. 

 

Near the San Andresitos shops a few blocks away vendors hang colorful sports jerseys for sale on a chemical factory wall. 

Puente Aranda, the district which includes Pensilvania, has some of the city's worst air quality - because of the industries and many heavy diesel vehicles. While there Saturday afternoon I saw several factory chimneys spouting smoke, but this one was quite extraordinary. The tiny factory is located on Carrera 42, a major avenue, within sight of everybody. A man apparently employed in the factory wasn't concerned at all by my photographing their plume of smoke, and very kindly explained that the place was a rectificadora and made an ingredient for soap.

A policeman passes the belching smokestack and observes nothing wrong. 

(See more horrific photos of Bogotá's uncontrolled air pollution on my air pollution blog)


By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours

Craftsmen in La Macarena

Edgar Sandoval has been framing works of art in La Macarena for about 15 years. 

Bogotá's hip La Macarena neighborhood, on the hill above Independence Park and the bullfighting stadium, has filled with art galleries in recent years. But galleries often seem cold and sterile to me. And, usually they're also empty - except for the evenings when they give away food and wine (and even then it seems the visitors come to see each other rather than the art).

So, it often seems to me that art galleries serve to sterilize art and hide it away (which is why street art is so great).

These two La Macarena workshops are colorful, living, active non-deliberate art displays.

A colorful jumble in Sandoval's workshop. 

Edgar Sandoval, who frames artworks in his colorful, jumbled shop, told me about the neighborhood's history, including the artists who've lived here, such as sculptor Edgar Negret. For Sandoval, framing artworks is art itself. Calle 26c No. 4a-11, La Macarena. Tel: 334-5653.

The front wall of Sandoval's shop. 

Sandoval displays a photo of La Macarena from 1946, just before El Bogotazo,

Cesar Giraldo crafts leather works in his shop on Carrera 5.

Cesar Giraldo told makes leather products in his shop on Carrera 5. He says he doesn't know of another leather workshop which has a storefront as well. He makes his own works, as well as fulfilling orders. His works are available here and here. Cesar Giraldo. Carrera 5 No. 26c-18. Tel: 342-8964.

Leather scraps waiting to be made into bags. 

In contrast, here's a minimalist art display in a neighboring 'art' gallery.
Can you see the artwork? Neither can I.

By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours

Motorcycle Street

Motorcycle stickers. 

A helmet rack.

Calle 15 and Carrera 14 is Bogotá's central motorcycle district, where shops selling parts, clothing, stickers and gears line the streets and motorcycles stand parked side by side block after block. The neighborhood, called La Favorita, was wealthy a century ago, and still has some grand houses. The motorcycle economy apparently grew up here because several messenger companies, which employ motorcyclists, have their offices here.

Olga Lucia has vended on the street and been the
caretaker of a neighboring rooming house. 

Olga Lucia, who was renting cellphones and selling candies and cigarettes on the sidewalk amidst the motorcycle businesses. She's lived in the La Favorita for 24 years, caretaking a rooming house and seen it change from an economy of trucking to motorcycles and delivery businesses. She said the city has plans to remove the motorcycle businesses and turn the neighborhood into into housing and public parks - a nice dream, if it happens.

Meanwhile, La Favorita is a low-estrato neighborhood with crime problem after dark. After all, it's only two blocks south of the Santa Fe red light district. Olga told me 'If you act like a fool, you'll be a victim," using a very Colombian expression 'Papaya servida, papaya llevada.'


Motorcycles have proliferated in Bogotá and across Colombia in recent years. I suppose that for the city they cause less congestion and pollution than do cars. But motorcycles cause lots of accidents and make a heck of a lot of noise.

And gloves. 

Anybody want some motorcycle parts. 

The Church of the Los Apasionistas has room for several hundred worshippers, but Olga Lucia told me that perhaps 30 people attend Sunday mass. 

A century ago, the neighborhood was wealthy, and still has some grand houses. 

Can you parallel park a motorcyle?

Motorcycle doodads for sale on a streetcorner. 

The historic San Jorge Theatre, a historic monument, has been abandoned for more than a decade.  

A local restaurant.

Time go get up! Police wake up a homeless person sleeping on a sidewalk. 

Good morning. 

A virgin in a window. 

By Mike Ceaser, of Bogotá Bike Tours