Rebeca Argudo 21 enero, 2020
Last weekend I have been in Barcelona visiting people I love. On Friday we went out for drinks, as we usually do. We are dissolute people who like leisure and enjoyment, no daintiness.
It is not that I am an exhibitionist of my intimacies and that is why I explain this, in that case I would be telling another type of anecdotes much more erotic, but this one I can explain it to you. Don’t despair so soon.
I was saying that my friends and I were sharing portions and drinks around a high table, which are not my favorites precisely, but there we were. In the Parallel area, night life area, to be precise. Jesus, Julia, Pepe and I, so calm.
We talked about the human and the divine, about the little things of life, with total peace. Pepe talked about his future move, Jesus of his work, Julia of art, I of anything (I think I gave them a lot of trouble with the empty Spain and Marisa Tomei, but they forgave me).
After we changed subjects and started to talk about independence, about Torra, about Puigdemont, about ERC, about collage government, about the current events that hit us. If someone wanted to judge our conversation and put us a label, perhaps one could say that none of us has much to reproach the democratic system of 78. We believe that, although it can be improved, we enjoy full rights and freedoms that most countries already want for themselves , including Europeans.
As free as one who considers herself feminist, animal advocate, vegan or from Murcia, we talked about everything as we talk about the weather, talked of an ideological position as legitimate as any other, of a meaning that should not require any excuse. You will not believe what happened next.
Someone who seemed not to share our opinion approached us and addressed us in very bad ways: “You are offending families,” he said. Oh my! he said that at 1 a.m. Friday night, in a cocktail bar.
Around us there would be as many families (single parents) as individuals at each table. “You are offending families.” Come on man. First time in my damn life when they call me to order by freely expressing my opinion on a subject. I swear. Not even in the third world, in regimes that would be far from being considered a democracy, have I seen myself in the role of having to lower my voice to expose a political stance among friends, in a normal and everyday conversation.
Well, on Friday, January 17, 2020, in Barcelona, in the Parallel area, I had to shut my mouth because a stranger felt that he could tell me off on behalf of the families. Because defending the constitution is a subversive act, almost reckless, in an area (in that) of this Spain of ours.
“Tell everybody what you have experienced” Inma, my Catalan friend, told me when, at a meal next day, I explained her the situation unable to believe it yet. And I, now, after having to endure the experience, I explain it to everybody.
What I didn’t tell Inma, and I wanted to have told her, is that she should not feel alone. Because she is not.
Neither Paula, nor Felix, nor Pepa, Cecilia, Isabel, Raúl, Jaime, Paco, Manuel, Nuria, Joan, nor Julia, nor Jesus, living in Catalonia, are not alone. We will not abandon you. We can’t look the other way. Because we neither want nor should we let their voice stop.
And since I didn’t tell him, I do it now.