GOING AFTER THE DREAM: PEASANTS IN A PROVINCIAL CITY
Michael B. Whiteford
INTRODUCTION
To even the most casual observer, the results of population movement occurring in Latin America are
clear. Today, many city populations are growing at the rate of 50% each decade. In the past 20 years, 40% of
this growth is attributed to rural-urban migration (Davis, 1972). Skirting the peripheries of most major cities,
new developments-combinations of privately-constructed as well as government-built housing-attest to the
numbers of people who for various reasons leave the countryside. Not surprisingly, over the past decade these
migrants increasingly have become the subjects of countless studies which hope to understand some of the
dynamics of the process in order to more effectively deal with both its causes and consequences. Scholars,
representing a variety of disciplines, have lived with, interviewed, and questionnaired migrants, all with inten-
tions of better understanding the process. The works of the last decade and a half have provided us with plenty
of data. Earlier dichotomous models now are dismissed as too simplistic. Now a much clearer picture emerges
regarding what factors, working in unison, cause movement, from what segments of the population the
principal participants come, and what types of strategies the protagonists are likely to employ in securing
housing and jobs.
The following contribution picks up one of the threads from the migration theme and specifically
addresses the issue of migrant satisfaction or contentment with the decision to move and with life in a
low.income neighborhood of Popayan, Colombia. As a basis of comparison, we will look at migrants' percep-
tions of their new way of life versus what things were like in the areas they left. Comparisons of the "good
life" will be made between migrants and their nonmigrant (defined as people born in Popayain) neighbors. My
study focuses on ex-countryfolk who recently migrated to an urban setting: people from the low-income,
working-class barrio Tulcan (population about 2,000), on the outskirts of Popayan, Colombia (population
about 80,000), capital of the Department of Cauca. Approximately 80% of the heads of household in the
barrio were born outside Popayan (84% arrived in the city after age 15)!
ETHNOGRAPHIC DESCRIPTION
Barrio Tulcain is wedged between two streams and a hill that occupies much of its center. A number of
winding dirt roads form unevenly divided blocks. Two hundred sixty houses of the barrio are built with
materials ranging from mortar and brick walls with tile roofs to cardboard and bamboo walls with flattened
olive oil tins for roof covering. By their own definition, the residents are of the "lower class"; they call
themselves "humble people" or part of the "working class."
Because there is little industry in Popayan, there are few jobs for the unskilled (a classification applying
to most heads of household). Three-fourths of the heads of household work in unstable jobs, are under-
employed, and frequently unemployed. Many are small-scale merchants (operators of housefront stores, itiner-
ant vendors); coteros (men, less frequently women, who move produce through the city on small two-wheeled
carts, or who unload cargo); construction workers who, except for a few "master" masons, are out of work
three to four months of the year; agriculturalists who cultivate land in the barrio or in outlying areas; and
residents who take in laundry and wash clothing for a living.
Acknowledgement: The research was conducted over a 15-month period. The 1970-71 research was supported by National
Institute of General Medical Science, Training Grant GM-1224. The author gratefully acknowledges the support of the
Wenner-Gren Foundation for Anthropological Research for providing funds for the 1974 follow-up study. Appreciation is also
extended to Eric Hoiberg and Andrew H. Whiteford, who commented on an earlier version of this paper. The names of the
barrio and its inhabitants have been changed. Paper submitted July 28, 1975.
91
WHITEFORD
THE MIGRATION PROCESS
Peasants move to the city for various reasons stemming not necessarily from any one single force. The
peasant feels he is being "forced" out of the countryside by crowded rural conditions or poor prices for his
cash crop-factors exacerbating his already tenuous economic situation (Camacho de Pinto, 1970). At the
same time he is attracted to the city by the notion of finding lucrative, steady work, or getting away from the
monotony of rural life. Many migrants move because they dislike agricultural work; others leave because there
is not enough available land to support a growing family. Most migrants arrive in Tulcan without work
experience except for agriculture and cannot get jobs other than those for unskilled laborers; and for those
jobs, there are too many candidates.
Jaime Torres, as a young man, left the village of Bolivar, Cauca, and moved to Popayain. He said, "I was
tired of trying to make a living in the fields." Jorge Cruz worked on his uncle's coffee farm before moving to
Popayan in 1955. Unlike many other migrants, Jorge had previously acquired some training in nonagricultural
work. He was an accomplished mason and could find employment when he arrived.
Lack of adequate medical facilities is a second frequently cited reason for leaving the countryside. There
is a severe shortage of trained medical personnel and facilities in most rural areas. But even people who seek
"folk" cures and curers must move to the city for intensive treatment (Press, 1971). Adolfo Gonzalez left the
management of his small farm to his two older sons and brought his wife, Maria, and their two small children
to live in the city after a doctor recommended moving to Popayan to treat Maria for a "blood disorder." When
her condition did not improve after visits to several doctors and a variety of "clinics," Maria visited a local
curer and suddenly began getting better. Adolfo pointed out that he certainly would not have had the choices
for curing had they remained in the country.
A number of migrants were children when they came to Popayan and therefore had no part in the
decision to move. Obligations created by family members already in Popayan resulted in still other country
people moving to the city. In some cases families moved to care for aging parents who had migrated years
before. Still others came for "individual" reasons. For example, Hernan Granada escaped from his home
community with literally only the shirt on his back after a drinking incident in which he accidentally killed one
of his companions whose relatives swore vengeance. Rosario Gomez, at the age of seven, was "sold" by her
mother to a wealthy Popayan family, who trained her as a domestic. She lived with the family for almost a
decade before getting married and leaving. A desire to escape the rural violence which plagued Colombia
during the 1950s and early 1960s caused some to seek safety in the cities (Whiteford, 1974a).
The desire to educate their children, coupled with the paucity of rural schools, especially secondary
schools, brought still other people to Popayan.2 Jose L6pez, bom in a rural area about a four hours' walk from
Barrio Tulcan, came with his family in 1966. He said, "We came here to civilize our children." Jose said there
were no schools where they were living and the school to which his children would have had to go was not
very good: "One could never tell from one day to the next whether the teacher would show up." The L6pezes,
and others like them, moved to the city to educate their children, so that they could compete for nonagricul-
tural jobs. Many migrants make the move for a combination of reasons and continually assess their motives
and objectives.
ROUTES TO THE CITY
The literature on urbanization suggests that migrants are not typical of the rural population, but are
principally the young and best-educated (Butterworth, 1971; McGreevey, 1968; Herrick, 1965). The data from
Tulcain support this view. The median age of Tulcan's migrants at the time of arrival in Popayan is 22, the
average age 27, and they fall definitely within the 15-35 year age range (Graves and Graves, 1974) character-
istic of the general migrant population in Latin America. The average Tulcan migrant head of household has
had approximately three years of schooling. He is able to read available printed matter-especially newspapers
and magazines-unlike the majority of rural heads of household, who are illiterate (Adams, 1969).
92
GOING AFTER THE DREAM
More than two-thirds of the migrants were not influenced by someone else to move to Popayan. For
example, Adolfo Samboni was 15 "and without obligations" when he arrived. He had been on the road for
almost two years, working whenever and wherever he could find employment. He had relatives in Popayan,
but he insists they had not influenced his decision to come. Only one-third of the migrants allowed that they
were urged or pressured to make the move, either by people in their village or by relatives or friends in
Popayan. Mario Cruz was content working a small piece of land in Timbio, Cauca. He moved to Popayan in
1948 because his mother, who had been living there for several years, was ill and had asked him to come and
take care of her.
Three-fourths of the migrants bring all family members when they move. In 1959, after an exhausting
20-hour bus ride, Pedro Medina and eight members of his extended family arrived in Popayan. He had no
contacts in town and no idea where they would stay or how they would earn a living. Pedro said he could not
leave his family behind, so he brought them all. One-fourth of the heads of household came alone to find
employment and housing before moving their families. In 1966 Jaime Torres left his wife and child with his
father on the farm. He worked for several months to get his own lodging to which he could bring his family
and to find a "comfortable position." Then he returned to La Vega for his family.
For half the migrants, the move to Popayan is the first time they permanently venture off their native
soil. Many, however, are old hands at moving; more than 17% of the heads of household came at least three
times before permanently settling in Popayan. Some are return migrants who previously had lived in Popayan,
had moved to another urban area or back to the country, and then returned to Popayan. As a young woman,
Susana de Fajardo and her mother came to Popayan to live with a brother. She met Nemecio, a young migrant,
whom she married. After several years they moved to Bogota where another of Susana's brothers was living.
For six years the family lived in the capital. Nemecio worked as a construction laborer; Susana had a job in a
factory that manufactures latex gloves. According to Susana, the family liked living there, but "I got sick with
asthma from the smell of the gloves we were making." Doctors at the social security hospital told her she
needed to live in a warmer climate, and for that reason, the family moved back to Popayan.
While Popayan might be the first stop in a process that takes the migrant from the rural area to an
intermediate-size city (Popayan) and terminates in a large, industrial urban center like Cali, Medellin, or
Bogota, most migrants initially regard Popayan as their final destination. Many make the decision to move
elsewhere only after living in Popayan for a long time and regarding the city as their permanent residence.
Proximity to their place of birth is important in the selection of Popayan. Though the move to Popayan
may take many hours by bus, for three-fourths of the migrants, Popayan is less than 100 miles from their
previous home, and 90% move less than 150 miles to reach Popayan. Almost 90% of the migrants were born in
the Department of Cauca or in adjacent departments or territories (51.4%). Paralleling the observations of
other social scientists (Flinn, 1968; Flinn and Converse, 1970), we can say geographic propinquity plays a
strong role in urban selection.
GETTING ORGANIZED IN THE CITY
Of the 1974 migrant sample, half were the first of their immediate families to move to Popayan, though
two-thirds of the heads of household had contacts of some kind in the city when they arrived. In spite of
urban contacts the peasant ideal of independence persists in the city; for Tulcan I have described it more fully
elsewhere (Whiteford, 1974b). Only a third of the migrants relied on friends or relatives to help them find jobs
on arrival; almost 60% accepted help in getting housing. Three-fourths moved in with urban acquaintances
until separate housing could be found; most were living independently within a year.
Many migrants had some familiarity with Popayan even before moving there; over half of them had
bought or sold items in the city's markets. Almost half said they knew about life in Popayain from friends who
had moved there and had returned to the countryside for visits. This form of communication continues with
the present group of migrants; 85% still have relatives living in their places of birth, and over half state they
periodically return home. The visits last only a few days, when migrants return home for the ceremony of the
93
WHITEFORD
village patron saint, or for the wedding or baptism of a relative. Some visits, like that of Jorge Cruz, last longer.
Jorge prefers to live in the country and has returned home at least three times, hoping to be successful in
agriculture. At home, he regales his countrymen with tales of urban life. After a few months, when he decides
he likes life in the city better, he returns to Popayan.
Another mode of learning about the city is the occasional visits of country kin to relatives in Popayan.
More than half the migrants in Tulcan regularly have rural relatives drop in and stay for a few days or weeks
while they check the scene and test the winds in anticipation of an eventual move.
The move to Tulcan is rarely without problems. Migrants must adjust to a new and faster pace of life.
For many it is difficult to find and adjust to a new kind of work and different life style. Nevertheless, the
migrants insist urban life is not hard; half feel they had no difficulty finding a source of livelihood in Popayan;
and almost half say they found work within a week of arrival. Even people who knew no one in Popayain say it
is an easy place to settle (Whiteford, 1974a). Some anthropologists (Leeds and Leeds, 1970; Peattie, 1968)
suggest that rural life is good preparation for "making it" in the city. In general, the transition occurs without
the breakdown (Lewis, 1952; Butterworth, 1962; Mangin, 1960: Roberts, 1973) once thought to characterize
the process of peasants moving to the city (Redfield, 1947).
FULFILLING THE DREAM
Though in casual conversation many of my Tulcanes friends spoke of how much they missed country
life, only one-fourth indicated any strong desire to move back to their places of birth; most stated they were
living in Popayan now and that is where they planned to remain. Three-fourths insisted that under no
circumstances would they return to the countryside. Of the one-fourth who would like to retum, two-thirds
said they would do so only if they had good jobs waiting for them. Migrants agreed (61.5%o) that the prospect
of jobs and good salaries make urban life attractive; one-third of them indicated they prefer urban life because
"everything is here."
It is difficult to ascertain whether the new urbanities have found the "good life" they set out for, but
the data point to a qualified "yes." Overwhelmingly, migrants regard living in Popayan as a vast improvement
over life in the countryside. This is difficult to understand when one sees their poverty and knows of their
tenuous employment circumstances. The move to the city usually alleviates what they perceive as the foremost
rural problems-crowded conditions, lack of land, medical problems, and poor education. The move provides
them with new opportunities in their lives (Margulis, 1968). The rural community pressures you to conform,
Manuel Calderon said, if you want to progress you have to move. "For a man to improve and be called a
'sefior' or 'don' he has to move from the place he was born." Manuel said he could only accomplish this
because he left his native village.
ADVANCEMENT
We asked residents born in Popayan and migrants to compare their job situations with those of their
fathers on a scale of "better," "same," or "worse." Payanes-born residents divided their responses almost
evenly, but two-thirds of the migrants regarded their present situations as better than their fathers' at similar
ages. The migrants preferred nonagricultural work (most of their fathers had been peasant farmers); they felt
whatever they were doing was superior to tilling the soil. Manuel Calderon, though not content with his
present job, nevertheless stated his job was better than the one his father had at the same age. "All I ever saw
my father do was walk here and walk there. What I am doing now has to be better than that."
Migrants differ with nonmigrants in their view of what is needed to get ahead in the city. When asked to
select the most important factor in earning a good salary and advancing in social position, almost half the
migrants-but slightly less than one-third of the nonmigrants-chose "God's help." "Dedication to work" was
of prime importance to 17.6% of nonmigrants but only 2.9% of the migrants assigned it that same level of
importance. Perhaps this view stems from the realization that, when tilling exhausted soil and using traditional
94
GOING AFTER THE DREAM
technologies, hard work does not necessarily increase agricultural production. More nonmigrants than migrants
recognized the importance of "ties" (palancas) in getting ahead; this is not too surprising, because the most
recent arrivals have not had time to cultivate and extend their urban networks of contacts. Though some
differences can perhaps be explained by migrant naivety of how ties and contacts are established in the city,
the concept certainly is not foreign; in the countryside, the peasants constantly activate and manipulate social
relationships for their benefit (Foster, 1961, 1963; Fals Borda, 1962).
The degree of success and the migrants' general well-being is mainly established by the type of employ-
ment, job satisfaction, monthly income, and standard of living scores.4
In spite of some general knowledge of life in the city, which most migrants have when they arrive in
Popayain, the urban experience is new and necessitates some basic cognitive changes if the peasant is to
succeed. Tulcands migrants fare no worse than their city-bom neighbors-this indicates the degree of success
the majority of ex-peasants achieve.
Both migrants and nonmigrants prefer certain jobs. Good jobs are stable and permanent jobs one can
keep for a long period of time. The jobs should pay the minimum wage, but the majority of Tulcanes
breadwinners do not receive it. Some stable jobs in small enterprises in the center of town do not pay the legal
minimum rate; and only some provide the worker with such benefits as health insurance, semi-annual cash
bonuses, and retirement pensions. Jobs that provide benefits are considered the cream of the crop and are
most cherished by those who have them and most coveted by those who do not. The three branches of
govemment (municipal, departmental, and national) are the principal barrio employers in this category. Jobs
with the few relatively large industries in Popayan, like the company which manufactures hemp sacks or the
bottling plant, are also regarded as occupational plums. Most of the barrio's working heads of household do not
have good jobs. However, the percentage of migrants with good jobs is higher, though not much higher than
that of nonmigrants.
The majority of heads of household expressed qualified contentment with their jobs, but considerably
fewer migrants fell into this category than respondents born in Popayan. Migrants, it appears, have their sights
set higher than those born in Popayan. Perhaps the Payanes are simply more realistic about the possibilities for
substantive improvement. They have been around enough, and are familiar enough with urban life to know
that a poorly educated individual without meaningful social contacts and marketable skill has little oppor-
tunity for advancement. In comparison, migrants constantly are scrambling to make the best of their situations
and are exploring any avenue for improving their positions. This is expressed in conversations and shows in the
results of the thematic apperception tests, the life histories, and in the manner they conduct their daily lives.
My lower-class Payands friends regard the paperwork, red tape, and general bureaucratic obstructions necessary
for attaining choice jobs as unfortunate, unnecessary, and discriminatory. They either submit to the require-
ments (like obtaining a birth certificate, police clearance, [for men] a statement on military status, income tax
receipt, etc.), or resign themselves to working at jobs for which they do not need a permit and which are not
financially or emotionally rewarding. Many migrants will try anything to get the necessary documents which
would lead to work papers. Often this means bribing minor officials and petty bureaucrats, seeking patrons
who might be able to pull a few strings, and being tenacious and endlessly patient. Unlike their city-born
neighbors, they never seem to give up.
Economically, migrant and nonmigrant heads of household have similar incomes. In 1970, the average
head of household eamed between 300 and 400 Colombian pesos per month; by 1974, the average had risen
to between 500 and 600 pesos* Combining the results of both the 1970 and 1974 surveys, we found no
significant difference between the proportion of migrants and nonmigrants whose incomes exceed the average
income for the barrio-another indication that migrants hold their own in the city.
There is one measure of economic well-being in which migrants do not fare as well as their city-born
neighbors. Based on George Foster's classification scheme for determining the quality of housing' in
Jn 1970, the exchange rate was approximately 19.50 Colombian pesos to the U.S. dollar. By 1974, the exchange rate was
roughly 25.50 to the dollar. Between October 1970, and July 1974, the cost of living in Colombia rose by 126% (Banco de la
Republica, 1974). During the same period, the median head-of-household income rose by only 70%, while the median
household income increased by a mere 56%.
95
WHITEFORD
Tzintzuntzan, Mexico (Foster, 1967), I devised a standard of living scale for Tulcan. On a 20-point scale based
on convenience and comfort, two points are awarded for electricity, sewer or latrine, tile floors, and electric or
propane stoves. Other items, such as a radio, electric iron, sewing machine, refrigerator, record player, and
bicycle each carry a one-point value. In 1970, the average standard of living score for the barrio was 7.3. By
1974, this rose to 8.4. Nonmigrants have a clear edge over migrants in possessing assorted material comforts.
OBSERVATIONS
Except on the standard of living score, the migrants in Barrio Tulcan fare no worse than their low-
income Payanes neighbors. The migrants, however, have a slight advantage in coping with their poverty
because they are more optimistic about the future. They believe things will work out well. They feel they have
made some important improvements in their way of life since moving to the city. Poor as they are, they can
see how they have accumulated some urban comforts. In fact, some migrants' expectations were unrealistically
low when they came to the city. The expectations were easily met and their level of relative deprivation
changed. Like their city-born neighbors, they see the cars or refrigerators they thought they would never own,
but that they now would like to possess. For the migrants-having generally satisfied the mundane needs they
brought with them from the country-achieving the new goals seems a realistic possibility. Their dreams are
not as jaundiced as the nonmigrants' view about making the dreams reality.
Eventually, the migrants will become disenchanted and their expectations will diminish. In Barrio Tulcan
this began to occur between 1970 and 1974. In 1970, the barrio was relatively new, having been founded in
1964, and its residents had many plans for changes. There was community pride; residents boasted about it as
a good place to live and about its great potential. After some years of frustration about getting the local
authorities to follow through with promises of installing an adequate sewer, making low-interest loans available
to residents, and the like, interest in the barrio waned. In 1974, I seldom heard it praised. It was described as
harboring thieves and as a place from which one should move at the first possible opportunity.
In time a similar dissatisfaction may occur among migrants. It is already evident in their children, many
of whom have grown up in Popayan and Tulcan. The young people are less optimistic than their parents were
that the good life can be attained. They also do not share the apparent complacency of the adult generation of
nonmigrants. The children of both migrants and nonmigrants walk into town to attend rallies of political
groups that demand revolutionary change. The members of the older generation dismiss the radical high school
and university students as the "spoiled children of the oligarchy," and ignore their calls for "worker-student
coalitions," but their children sympathize with revolutionaries. They read the Marxist literature that comes
into the barrio and decorate walls with posters of Che Guevara, Patrice Lumumba and scenes of Chinese
workers doing communal labor. They discuss the necessity of urban and rural reform and voice their opinions
on multinational concerns and foreign imperialist intervention in Colombia.
Like their parents, they dream of the good life, but they differ on the means for obtaining it.
96
GOING AFTER THE DREAM
NOTES
The standard anthropological tools for gathering data-participant observation, open-ended interviews-were
used. The statistical material was collected in the barrio in a house-to-house census in October 1970 (N=275
[218 migrant heads of household] ) and by an interview schedule administered to about 35% of the heads of
household (N= 101 [83 migrants) ) in July 1974.
2Adams states that, though schools are available, many children attend only half-day. Four-fifths of the
approximately 1,000 high schools in Colombia are in departmental capitals, and one-third of the high schools
are in Bogota alone (Adams, 1969).
3Figures on literacy and literacy rates are inconsistent and often misleading. The 1964 Colombian census
indicates over half the rural population, 15 years or older, have not gone to school (Weil et al., 1970).
4For comparative account of migrant/nonmigrant socioeconomic differences see Balan, 1969.
REFERENCES
Adams, Dale W., 1969. "Rural migration and agricultural development in Colombia." Economic Development
and Cultural Change 17:527-539.
Balan, Jorge, 1969. "Migrant-native socio-economic differences in Latin American cities: a structural analysis."
Latin American Research Review 4(1):3-29.
Banco de la Republica, 1974. "Indice de precios al mayor del comercio en general." Revista del Banco de la
Republica 47(556):352.
Butterworth, Douglas, 1962. "A study of the urbanization process among Mixtec migrants from Tilantongo in
Mexico City." America Indigena 22:257-274.
-   1971. "Migracio'n rural-urbana en America Latina: el estado de nuestro conocimiento." America
Indigena 31(1):85-105.
Camacho de Pinto, Teresa, 1970. Colombia: el proceso de urbanizacio'n y sus factores relacionados. Tunja:
Universidad Pedago'gica y Tecnologica de Colombia.
Davis, Kingsley, 1972. World urbanization 1950-19 70, volume II: analysis of trends, relationships, and devel-
opment. (Population Monograph Series No. 9). Berkeley: Institute of International Studies.
Fals Borda, Orlando, 1962. Peasant Society in the Colombian Andes. Gainesville: University of Florida Press.
Flinn, William L., 1968. "The process of migration to a shantytown in Bogota, Colombia." Inter-American
Economic Affairs 22(2):77-88.
, and J. W. Converse, 1970. "Eight assumptions conceming rural-urban migration in Colombia: a
three-shantytowns test." Land Economics 46:455-466.
97
WHITEFORD
Foster, George M., 1961. "The dyadic contract: a model for the social structure of a Mexican peasant village."
American Anthropologist 63:1173-1192.
, 1963. "The dyadic contract in Tzintzuntzan, II: patron-client relationship." American Anthro-
pologist 65:1280-1294.
, 1967. Tzintzuntzan: Mexican Peasants in a Changing World. Boston: Little, Brown & Co.
Graves, Nancy B., and Theodore D. Graves, 1974. "Adaptive strategies in urban migration." In B. J. Siegel; A.
R. Beals; and S. A. Tyler (eds.), Annual Review of Anthropology 3:117-151. Palo Alto, CA: Annual
Reviews, Inc.
Herrick, Bruce, 1965. Urban Migration and Economic Development in Chile. Cambridge, Mass.: The M.I.T.
Press.
Leeds, Anthony, and Elizabeth Leeds, 1970. "Brazil and the myth of urban rurality: urban experiences, work,
and values in 'squatments' of Rio de Janiero and Lima." In A. J. Field (ed.), City and Country in the Third
World, pp. 229-285. Cambridge, Mass.. Schenkman.
Lewis, Oscar, 1952. "Urbanization without breakdown: a case study." Scientific Monthly 75:3141.
Mangin, William P., 1960. "Mental health and migration to the cities: a Peruvian case." Annals of the New
York Academy of Sciences 84:911-917.
Margulis, Mario, 1968. Migracion y marginalidad en la sociedad argentina. Buenos Aires: Paidos.
McGreevey, William, 1968. "Causas de la migracio'n interna en Colombia." In Centro de Estudios sobre
Desarrollo Econo'inco (CEDE), Empleo y desempleo en Colombia, pp. 211-221. Bogota, D.E.: Ediciones
Universidad de los Andes.
Peattie, Lisa R., 1968. The View from the Barrio. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
Press, Irwin, 1971. "The urban curandero." American Anthropologist 73(3):741-756.
Redfield, Robert, 1947. The Folk Culture of Yucatan. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Roberts, Bryan R., 1973. Organizing Strangers: Poor Families in Guatemala City. Austin: University of Texas
Press.
Weil, Thomas E., et al., 1970. Area Handbook for Colombia. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing
Office.
Whiteford, Michael B., 1974a. "Barrio Tulcan: fieldwork in a Colombian city." In G. M. Foster and R. V.
Kemper (eds.), Anthropologists in Cities, pp. 41-62. Boston: Little, Brown & Co.
, 1974b. "Neighbors at a distance: life in a low-income Colombian barrio." In W. A. Cornelius and
F. M. Trueblood (eds.), Anthropological Perspectives on Latin American Urban Research, pp. 157-181.
(Latin American Urban Research volume 4). Beverly Hills, CA: Sage Publications.
98