Spanish and Latina immigrants: "Things haven't happened to us that differently."

Cornellà de LlobregatIn the end, all the women recognize themselves in each other's stories. "We're so alike, things haven't happened to us that differently!" they repeat. There are about twenty of them, and they have in common that they had to leave their homeland to emigrate to Catalonia and have settled in Can Padró, a neighborhood in Cornellà de Llobregat accustomed to welcoming migrants. Like those who arrived in their 60s from Extremadura or Andalusia and those, starting in this new century, from Latin America. Today this heterogeneous group—by origin and also by generation—has met in a room of the neighborhood association in an activity organized by Cáritas to promote, precisely, knowledge and interaction among neighbors who surely wouldn't meet up if it weren't for spaces like this.

In this informal conversation, they discover that immigration has more in common than they could have suspected before entering the room. Substandard housing or subletting? They all have a story to tell, whether current or from decades ago, when they were little girls. "I don't see much difference between the two migrations," explains Bàrbara Isla, from a lifelong Catalan family, a witness to the changes who speaks with knowledge of the facts. "In Ciudad Satélite [the Francoist name for the current San Ildefonso] 30 people lived in a two-bedroom apartment," she says.

One of these new migrants is Mayra Andrade, who "for a day" was unable to regularize her status and is now waiting for a work contract that will allow her to apply for residency again. This, the paperwork, is the big difference with the Spanish migration wave: the obstacles to regularizing residency if one doesn't have a job offer or decent housing. "What employer expects the paperwork to be done if everything is so slow?" the Latina women lament. However, some are quick to recall that those who arrived from Spain had Spanish nationality, but also "hid from the police when they arrived at the Estacion de Francia so they wouldn't be sent back to their village."

Sweetening the Difficulties

Over the years, the migratory journey becomes more pleasant. It's also true that most Spanish women arrived as children or very young, following newlyweds. Despite the years, almost all of them remain divided, half Catalan, half Andalusian/Extremaduran. Except for one woman from Extremadura who stands up and says that the land of her birth "remains a record of childhood," but who, to identify herself, chooses "to be Catalan and enough." "There we were starving, and here we have made our lives," she exclaims.

On the other hand, young Latinas did decide to seek a future in Europe. They say they came "to study," like Andrade, but also to escape the violence and insecurity of not being able to walk quietly in the street or in the shopping mall. Laura, a 27-year-old Colombian, cuddles her seven-month-old son, born in Catalonia, while admitting that she has to bear the full grief of migration. She and her partner gave up a comfortable life with a good job and salary "for political reasons," and in Cornellà they have encountered more problems than she expected. The best part? "The low crime rate and the daycare centers, which allow women to work," she says. This reflection surprises Antonia Bolance, who has acknowledged that Catalonia has a high rate of insecurity, when this is not the case compared to the surrounding area. "Virgin Mary, and I'm the one walking scared through the streets of my neighborhood!"

For Cáritas psychologist Adriana Robles, it is positive that both groups express what separates them, "not from the fear" of difference, but from a "shared vulnerability." Leaving home, job, friends, and family is not easy for anyone. Without papers, Latinas cannot return to their countries to visit their parents because they would be detained at airport customs. Physical distance was also felt among Spanish women, when telephones were so scarce that families wrote letters that took days to arrive and, from time to time, held conference calls in the old call centers of the time. Now, communication is immediate and cheap via mobile phone, via WhatsApp.

And if there's one thing that unites them, it's the longing for their native food. Colombian Laura explains how she's struggling to eat with water because in her country it's more common to accompany food with natural fruit juice. Among the Spanish, their mouths water remembering the cooked and gazpachos, which, for them, are "grandmother's house." But in the kitchen, the fusion with Catalan cuisine is already a reality. Latinas explain how they have been introduced to pan con tomate (tomato bread) through their young children, a strange combination.

"I hope these young Latinas don't feel any different because of what they're going through; those of us who arrived 50 years ago and are still here went through it too," Bolance concludes.