The General Strike

Some aspects of Spain’s economic woes are obvious. Protest marches seem to occur almost daily. They usually end at city hall, so I see them on my way to language classes.  Empty storefronts, mostly restaurants are evident, and anti-government graffiti is everywhere. In other ways it is fairly subtle. While one occasionally sees beggars, they are far fewer than in Washington DC or San Francisco, which admittedly are much larger cities. But on November 14, there was a general country-wide strike.

The build-up was big, but the actual event seemed low-key. The city was well-postered and many businesses displayed signs announcing the strike. While many small business and restaurants were closed, all of the large chain stores were open. When businesses did open, they often kept some of their shutters down, just in case any violence erupted. I am sure. A lot of workers decided to stay home for the day, but others seem weary of losing yet another day of pay or revenues. Few buses ran and all of the government offices and rec centers were closed for all or part of the day. 

The previous day, Zoe’s teacher announced that she would be there and the kids and their families should make their own decisions. JT’s teacher didn’t say anything to his class. I opted to send the kids to school anyway, as Tom had been gone for nearly 3 weeks and I needed a mental health day. On the day of the strike, school was basically childcare since just a few kids showed up (2 in JT’s class and 7 in Zoe’s).  JT’s teacher and several others were part of the protest so they combined several grades. Instead of instruction, they drew pictures, played games, extended recess and watched movies. From my perspective, it was still better than their being at home, because at least they were interacting with other kids in Spanish and I had the day to relax. At the last minute, Zoe's swim group had practice when the pool opened at 5pm. While she was initially reluctant to go, only 8 (instead of 16) kids attended and the team had access to to 3 lanes (instead of 2), so she was happy.

That evening, we watch the main protest march as a real life civics’ lesson. In Granada, the marches are peaceful. In Madrid they are known for erupting into violence. I picked a strategic spot with an easy exit plan if things went south for any reason. While somber, the march felt somewhat ominous as the sky was overcast and the city police were at the ready, equipped with riot gear. Adding to the tension was the occasional loud firecracker. The marchers were chanting, but the protest seemed to have an air of resignation than anger. I guess there had been pickets the previous night and those had been much more spirited. All of this made Zoe very nervous so we did not stay very long. 

It was certainly different being in a small country where a general strike brings the entire public works system to a grinding halt. At the end, it was real life reminder to the children of the economic struggles of the Spain and how it affects ordinary citizens.