Vaga General

I didn't go to work today. And neither did thousands of Spaniards. Instead, they closed their shops, marched through the streets, and yelled in a desperate attempt to make someone listen.

Today marked another general strike. 

I was also present for a general strike in Sevilla in the fall of 2010. But that day felt much different. On that day, I was a wide-eyed, study abroad student, wandering the streets, just trying to take it all in. It was the first time I had ever seen a public strike, and I stood amongst the crowds completely disconnected from their purpose. Life in Sevilla for me was almost a vacation, and the strike another post in my blog.

Today, I feel different. Today, I live in Spain as an official resident, and an active part of the Spanish economy. I use and depend on the public transportation more than once a day, at least 5 days per week. I shop at my local produce market. I even have a Spanish bank account.

Today, the country is different. Today, the Spanish economy is becoming ever more unstable. According to the BBC, more than 5,639,500 people are unemployed in Spain, a total of more than 24.44%. Unemployment is at its highest level in almost two decades. Among 15-24-year-olds, unemployment increased from 17.4% in March 2007 to 51.1% in March 2012. At the same time, the government is proposing making drastic cuts in education, health care, and other public services.

Today I understand the strike as far more than a day off from school. 

I actually had initially planned on going to work and completing my classes as normal. To be honest, I am paid by the hour and I need the money. Furthermore,  I feel a little strange attending such a protest as I am not a Spanish citizen. Sure my heart goes out to those who are struggling, but I myself haven't felt the effects of the poor economy. So to me, it doesn't feel totally "right" to not show up for work.

However, it turned out that I wasn't given much of a choice. One of the effects of a general strike is the complete shut down of public transportation. My work completely depends on public transportation. It would take me more than an hour to walk to my classes, which I think is more than an inconvenience. Additionally, some of my students personally canceled our classes due to the same complications, or because they themselves were participating in the strike. So, in the end, I decided to cancel the two classes that I had left.

Instead, I went to the streets with my Spanish roommates and some friends, but mainly in the capacity as a sympathetic photographer.

Notices of the strike littered the streets.

29th of March, Vaga General,
which means General Strike in Catalan.

My local market
"Closed for the General Strike"

Walking down the Ramblas, one of the most popular shopping areas.
All of the shops were closed.

Walking towards Placa Catalunya, the main city square

Placa Catalunya

My roommates, Laura and Sabela

City on fire

Trying to see what is burning...

We later saw that people were burning large garbage containers.

Riot police were called in order to control the fires and other isolated incidences of violence

On my street, burned garbage containers

According to La Vanguardia, the isolated incidences of violence in Barcelona resulted in 300 burned trash receptacles, 500 euros in damage to city property, and 80 injured people, two of which in serious condition.

It is important to note that these were isolated incidinces from more "radical" groups of protesters. The majority of the protest in the city was peaceful.

I myself didn't witness any violence--only the smoke from afar. In fact, as soon as we saw the black smoke in Placa Catalunya, people started running around the square, in almost a panic. My roommates immediately shuffled me out of the area and into the side streets. They told me that the last time there was a general strike of this size in the square, the riot police closed people in and used tear gas against the protesters. They told me that experience wasn't worth a photo.

On the way home there was much talk among my Spanish friends about the strike, and the situation in Spain in general. Politics, economics, problems, solutions. But a common thread that I know too well that always seems to surface among 18-24-year-olds was a feeling of hopelessness, of helplessness. That there are great problems facing their generation, and they can't do anything to fix them.

I once stood with thousands of others in Wisconsin's state capitol, in the cold, for weeks. The largest protest in the state in decades. We didn't go to work or to class. We marched through the streets and yelled, in a desperate attempt to make some listen.

And no one did.

My state government paid no attention to the people through the window, and went on passing their radically conservative policies. My state government couldn't care less about what I have to say.

I vote. I read the news. I participate in the public sphere. Hell, I even work to get other people to participate with me. But for what? 

I want to believe that the people in charge have my back. I want to believe that they are smarter than me, and can make the informed decision. I want to believe in the system. But how can I? When the same problems are happening in my home state, in my home country, and across the world in Spain?

And so it depresses me when I walk through the streets, taking photographs of people exercising their right to demand social change, and rather than feeling a sense of appreciation and wonderment at the sight of democracy in action, I feel a sense of disappointment and apathy and think "This isn't going to change a damn thing."