
By IEISHAH CLELLAND
“Why are you here?” a journalist from Publico shouted over the joyous din in Plaza Catalunya, the main square of Barcelona. Pots and pans, whistles, vuvuzelas left over from World Cup celebrations a year ago. “As an American,” he clarified, jotting down my name and hometown. “What is the Spanish Revolution to you?”
For me, it began with a cacerolada– a uniquely Spanish form of protest wherein the people express outrage against the government by clanging pots and pans in a public forum. As an adopted daughter of the city, I loved that the atmosphere was traditional and progressive all at once. Over a few days in May 2011, Plaza Catalunya morphed into a full-on protest camp, and I showed up daily, keys in hand, because many of my friends were among the unemployed 20%. Because I couldn’t not be there. I jingled my keys in solidarity.
The morning of May 27th, or what Barcelona refers to as, 27M, I awoke to emails and twitter alerts of violence at the camp. The Catalan government had enlisted the police to forcibly evict the protestors in anticipation of a local football club’s UEFA Champions League win. They said the people would need the square to celebrate. The “people” maintained they needed the square for protest.
Armed with my Blackberry, I left my coffee cold on the kitchen counter and within minutes was facing down an officer with a rubber bullet gun. I tweeted and took photos. An old woman broke the barricade leading to the square. Women laid roses at the feet of officers behind riot shields. A group of officers began manhandling young men with protest signs. Across the street, a middle aged woman yelled at the officers, “Verguenza!” Shame! One turned and shoved her, too.
Crying, frustrated at the violent turn and unsure of my limits as a foreign national, I went home. News spread that the protestors had taken back the square. Without me.
As foreigners in foreign lands, when is their fight our fight?
+++++
Originally from New York and currently based in Barcelona, Ieishah Clelland is a freelance writer/blogger dedicated to the tracing and tracking of all things cross-culture. A serial expat, having lived in 6 countries over the last 13 years, Ieishah would consider Costa Rica the best, had she not almost drowned kayaking there
+++++





Pingback: Things I Heard At the Revolution | ieishah clelland