Christmas time…and no money, no time, no hope?
Spain is different…that’s for sure. I have a double feeling about
my own country: sometimes I feel proud of it. Well, of its people. I feel proud
to see how successful the last November campaign for collecting food of the
Banco de Alimentos was. I feel proud of the indignados movement, of the La revolución de los Payasos
movement, of the assemblies by neighbourhood, of the solidarity small markets,
of the strike movements, of the "scratches", of people such as Aída Colau or
Garzón. I feel proud of being born in a passionate society, which knows how to
enjoy life, to live as if there was no tomorrow, to share with those who need
it the most, to support each other, to make you feel at home wherever you are:
when you take a taxi, when you go to the supermarket or to the local shop, or
when you are waiting for the bus.
However…the other side of the coin is also part of the coin.
And this side is the one that makes me feel shame. Shame for its high degree of
corruption, for the sheepery and unconscious behavior of many of us, those who
are contented just by looking at the other side, because as long as they are
ok, they are not the ones to blame. They tell themselves “I just try to enjoy
life, I don’t hurt anyone, I am not part of the rotten system, so f*** them
all, sorry, if some citizens sleep on the street they must have done something
to be there”…and so on. These are the ones who still believe that nothing can
be done against what the government does with our money and savings (yes, the
bank is the government, and the government is the bank –Bankia, to be more
specific-, so I use these two words indistinctively), who think that poverty is
an ugly word that has to be avoided, and that anybody who would be in a
position of power would do exactly the same as what our government does,
because that’s how we all Spaniards are, lazy, hedonistic and very, very foxy.
They think “Everyone tries to profit the system, everyone. Therefore, let them
do, it is normal. If I was in their place, I would do the same. In my position
the only thing I can do is try to save my own ass. The rest should do the same.
And the immigrants, who also come here to profit the system, have nothing to do
here anymore. Sorry.”
These are those who think that all the social movements of protest and cooperation, all the attempts to change the system, to build a new society, are utopias made or by idealists or by homeless, drug addicts, lazy bastards, who just live in the worlds of Yuppie (as we would say in Spanish).
These are those who think that all the social movements of protest and cooperation, all the attempts to change the system, to build a new society, are utopias made or by idealists or by homeless, drug addicts, lazy bastards, who just live in the worlds of Yuppie (as we would say in Spanish).
The two Spains, that are present already from the times of
Franco, are still there. Divide and you will win, said Julius Caesar. And that
is what politicians do. They play the game of division, because they know that
in order to win they do not need to get all the populations’ votes, just the
majority. And if this majority has money, power and is very unconscious and
ignorant, much better. If you keep your voters (only your voters) happy, you
win. If you manage to make your voters ignore what happens to the other side,
you win. The other side is just garbage, a nuisance that can be cleaned up by
means of high fines and heavy and excessive punishments.
Well, those who vote such kind of governments are just
asleep. I they don’t wake up, we will ALL loose. I hope that at least a small
majority of the population wakes up soon. Imagine what we could be! Spain, with
all the positive things, and AWAKE! We would be unbeatable! What is more, we
would not need to beat anyone, we would not have to fight against any enemy.
All our energy would be creative, constructive…ah! I wish I can say, one day,
that my heart, like Spain, is not divided any more, that my shame is gone, that
I am just proud of being Spanish, because you can leave, but you cannot become.
And to finish, I leave you here this very funny letter to
Ana Botella (Miss Ana Bottle) which a friend of mine posted in Facebook. Who can identify the funny parts not being Spanish?
Dear Ana Bottle;
I just hallucinate little cucumbers with your discourse. I just can say "shit yourself little parrot" and "the mother who gave birth to you!"
I know is not turkey mucus to talk in english, but sincerely, you have more face than back, you should go to fry asparagus or to throw a white hair into the air. You are a morning singer, a ball-toucher and also your wing sings.
Yes, you look like Peter by his house when you speak english and that put me of bad milk.
So I don´t tell you anything and I tell you everything; don´t eat my pot and please go shitting milks out of this country, to the fifth pine, to sleep the monkey female or to another thing butterfly, because send eggs!! we were too few and the grandmother gave birth! you are always giving the note, did anybody teach you that in shut mouth flies do not enter?
You are the milk!!! and the cock in vinegar!!!
Now I´m leaving otherwise I will mount a chicken, but specially because it´s falling the octopus one.
Let a lightening split you.
Attentively,
me. (BY SARA MARCO)
