The strangest afternoon in Barcelona

On Saturday morning, in the center of Barcelona there were still workers covering the glass and ATMs of bank offices, as if a hurricane were coming and we were in Miami.

In the afternoon, blue police lights on every corner, officers asking for IDs and making boys open their backpacks at subway entrances who happened to be dressed in black, while groups of young people passed by with funeral makeup, stained with red and lots of short skirts, walking happily on their way to some Halloween party.

We live in the bubbles of our personal and group interests, and on the same street a huge police operation to prevent violence coincided with people who were ignoring it completely.

The campers in Plaça Catalunya were watching and being watched, especially now that some security cameras have been disabled. Passeig de Gràcia was subdued, with closed shops, with shops open but with their windows covered by wooden panels and a couple of security guards at the door, terraces with people having a drink and closed bars, people in Barça jerseys heading to the Camp Nou, the usual queues of tourists to enter Casa Batlló, five-star hotels armored and with their facades in the dark, and many fewer pedestrians loaded with bags walking up and down than we would have seen on any autumn Saturday at dusk.

In the end, the much-announced "maximum" police operation worked. Until next time, of course, because the social unrest is deep enough, especially among the youngest, and it won't take much to ignite tempers again, even less so nine days before the general strike. It was a strange afternoon, as corresponds to a city at different speeds and a society where everyone lives however they please.