He's following me.
Or maybe it's a she. Either way, I have a stalker and they work for the Metro.
Don't play innocent with me, TMB. I'm onto you.
M'lud, exhibit a: the other day, I was heading for the platform when I heard the train about to leave. I break into a run but just miss out - such is life. And then it begins. Over the station tannoy, faint at first but soon loud enough for every to hum along, comes the opening bars to the theme from The Great Escape.
Coincidence? Maybe. But add to this the haunting incidental music to Bond films being played when I was the only person on a creepy platform in the suburbs. Or an instrumental version of Summer Lovin' as I took my erstwhile girlfriend home.
| can see them now in their little booth at Tannoy HQ, staring at my facial expressions on grainy CCTV before frantically scrabbling through their collection of movie soundtracks. Each time they manage to find it while I wait for the next train - the perfect tune that will, with its every note, completely take the piss. I hate you all.
Elsewhere, the anti-war effort has also been learning the power of sound. The battle at this end is to keep protests fresh and varied enough so that people don't get bored. Nearly three weeks in, they're doing a good job.
I came out of my flat ten days ago to find two young smiling student-types banging a metal bar against a lamppost. "Is that the time?" I remarked to myself and enjoyed a walk through the aural overload of that night's Cassolades.
In a move specially designed to excite followers of social networks, a simple yet effective idea has spread throughout Barca with barely a www in support. On the first day, when many people wondered what was going on. But by the second day, they had worked it out and were joining in. Now, it's city-wide.
At 10pm, people go out onto their balconies and open their windows. They march through the streets and stand at tourist locations. And they bang. They take pots and pans, metal spoons and drums and make as much noise as possible for 20 minutes. Lights are flashed on and off, car horns are sounded, narrow streets echo with deafening noise and flickering silhouettes - it's the apocalypse directed by a low-budget Wes Craven. And it is genuinely scary. By reminding people (and especially unsuspecting tourists) to be afraid, the Cassolades (lit. big pans) are a fantastic idea.
You can hear them recorded from my balcony in the Eixample here:
.WAV (low quality, 5 second clip: 120Kb)
.WAV (higher quality, 30 second clip: 2.3Mb)
Unsurprisingly, the three largest anti-war settlements in front of government buildings here ("19 days camping against the war and still here!") have taken it up whole-heartedly. With representatives on the Platform against the War, they have a hand in the posters, flyers and word-of-mouth co-ordination of events. The local Green Party in particular has a very smart image (see top of the page) that it's been paying to post in official slots in the Metro.
Other methods of protest have included:
- fireworks destroying parts an impressive 6x6 metre 3D cardboard recreation of Barcelona to "demonstrate the effect of the bombs that have fallen on Baghdad"
- withdrawing all your money from the banks for three days to hurt the government's handling of the economy
- the traditional 'slow bicycle' blocking of the roads
- human chains/mosaics/feigned air-raids/bodies outlined in paint outside prominent institutions
- wholesale boycotting of pro-war/Bush companies
- plenty of parties/concerts/creative workshops
and an awful lot of really rather good graffiti.
The camps themselves seem to be continuing in good spirit too (and before you ask, there are two decent portaloos at each). Local university professors have been using the opportunity to host debates, present lectures on "art and radicalism" - even the local IT students are getting involved, with "protest and technology" seminars.
The camps do of course have their own websites (here, here, here) or you can just go to the local
For those interested and fluent in Catalan, there are plenty more lectures and discussions timetabled in for this week, including "Analysis of the pacifist movement and the concept of war", "Democracy and War", "The humanitarian crisis in Iraq", "An examination of the thesis of the Spanish communist party against the war", "The morality of technology and design", "The importance of interaction in the design of public space" and "Current geopolitical strategies".
If all of that seems a bit heavy to stomach (especially on the communal stir-fries), not to worry. The last time I strolled by the camp near the port, they were in the midst of a very entertaining tutorial in rock'n'roll dancing.
However. When the war ends, and the puppet Iraqi government is struggling with both international condemnation and local militia run by Saddam's ex-ministers, the camps here will surely start to disband. The disparate groups will rediscover their differences and perhaps, for many, their degrees. Without images of bombs and people dying of more dramatic causes than starvation, the unifying euphoria of the morally justified becomes harder to sustain.
But, even if they didn't stop the war or force Ansar to resign, those who have been part of the movement here can look back at the camps with pride. They came together because they had to do something - and their smart ideas and infectious enthusiasm reminded us that, in a post-Thatcher era, there is still such a thing as a collective conscience.
If nothing else, it's something worth making a noise about.
Update: Though comparatively new to Spain, it turns out that the pots and pans protest comes from Argentina and has been heard in Europe before. Expect this meme to spread.