The overflowing city
Once we've gotten over the tantrum over the Latin actresses' sketch about the supposedly cloying demand for Catalan in Barcelona, perhaps it's time to remember that we all know South Americans who have integrated very well into the city, who already speak or partially speak Catalan, who are our neighbors, and who, obviously, didn't come to hurt us. They don't deserve our generalized anger over the spectacle we saw on Thursday, in which the most serious aspect wasn't the intended satire (satirization is exaggeration or distortion of reality, not lies), but the blunder of the city council, and the inertial applause of those present. After one of the actresses acted like a fool (they wouldn't even give her a job) while her colleagues, all enraged, shouted "Speak Catalan!" in the tone of the female Gestapo.
This pantomime, by the way, shouldn't surprise us because, nowadays, victimization, whether founded or not, is the great argument of artistic creation. Hell, I too, as a Catalan speaker, feel like a victim. So this Argentine actress and I, at the same time and in the same space, complain about exactly opposite things; we feel mutually attacked for a reason of language. As for the situation of Catalan in Barcelona, either she or I are lying. And I would very much like, frankly, for all the Latin Americans living here to help us clarify who the liar is. In any case, there is the expression of a conflict, and the worst thing you can do with a conflict is pretend it doesn't exist.
On Thursday, I had lunch with a Catalan friend who has an Argentinian friend who told her that Barcelona seemed like an "overwhelmed" city, and I thought the adjective was accurate. The language issue, which is so deeply rooted, is one of the external symptoms of this overflow, but there are many others. The degradation of public space and services, depersonalization, mediocrity, unconditional surrender to the monster of mass tourism, the expulsion of the resident population due to a ruthless real estate market, the lack of prospects for young people—all of this makes Barcelona a city that "is more appealing" to such a beautiful corner of the world—because it is beautiful—is stressed and disoriented, experiencing a bitter success and toasting a triumph without winners; it is a showcase city, which has everything but is missing Barcelonians (the people, those who have grown up, those who no longer recognize their streets or their neighbors, those who have already left or are about to leave, willingly or by force).
This feeling is so widespread—despite the efforts of those in power to distract us with rising GDP, the lame airport, or the MWC figures—that I believe that in two years, in the municipal elections, whoever comes forward to say they want—and more than that!—to recover Barcelona and return it to its residents will have a lot to do with their residents. And this message, which seems simple, is the most complex of all, because although some of us associate it, for example, with the use of Catalan, the return of Barcelona is an ideal that goes much further; it isn't reflected in a single identity, it's neither left-wing nor right-wing, it can't be based solely on nostalgia, and, of course, it can't be based on either. Perhaps it's time for all of us who believe the city is overwhelmed, like myself, or like my Catalan friend's Argentine friend, to begin a dialogue to define what we're talking about when we express this concern (...but I warn you that I will be speaking in Catalan).