Our Shrink and other things

As I write this, I'm hearing a Cacerolazo. For the newbies, a Cacerolazo is a way of protest which consists on hitting (empty, of course) kitchen tools, specially saucepans. The empty kitchen tools symbolizes the lack of something: there is no food to put on them (and/or freedom, rights...), therefore we hit them. The noise a Cacerolazo makes is a sound of disagreement. As a form of protests, the Cacerolazo is an extremely comfortable one: you generally protest safe at home or no farther than your street, using kitchen tools near you. I have also come to realize that Cacerolazos are a therapeutic way of protesting.

Seriously, there is something quite relieving about hitting a spoon against a saucepan when you are overly mad or sad due to any controversial Revolutionary move. You might not able to take part on streets protests, due to work or more likely fear; or because your family is afraid and won't let you. You might are not even involved on any political task because is not your thing. But you are angry, and feel how Revolution has taken over your life, as deep as anyone. And when you hit a saucepan using a spoon, and hear this strange percussion in your neighborhood composed of your neighbors doing the same; you feel safe doing it. Most importantly, a Cacerolazo probably won't make much difference but you feel like at least you are doing something.

A Cacerolazo also reminds me of the country I want, of the type of society I want to live. A Cacerolazo is a disturbing symphony composed by all kinds of percussive sounds. Each person from its own window, using its own kitchen tools in its own way: maybe hitting a saucepan against another saucepan, or using a metal spoon or a wood one... produces a different sound that goes through its own rhythm. A Cacerolazo is uncoordinated by nature.

The only time I presence a coordinated Cacerolazo was during the General Strike in 2002 when my neighborhood date' brought a huge drummer to the streets and played it. I was 17 years old, and his attempt called my attention so we dated a couple of times but turned out that he wasn't as interesting as his drummer. Back to our story, since the sound of the drummer was far superior than that of our saucepans, we all decided to follow him.

Exceptions like that aside, the fact is that the Cacerolazo makes our differences, our particularities, our inability to be coordinated obvious. But still it shows that it is possible to do something together no matter how different we are; and even better: each one of us can do it in its own way.

I love differences. I love when every individual has its right to act as an individual.

The Revolution (nothing unexpected) disagrees. Today, they approved a law on which no depute can't change its vote or its criteria. Under this new law, the parliament seats will belong to a political party and not to a particular depute. No coalitions will be legal and each depute will be forced to vote on any issue as its political party does. If a depute doesn't follow this law, the risk for him is to be expelled off his charge, and unable to run for any political charge again.

So from January, new deputies will be forced to think like the party does. Inside the Assembly, we are going to find a drummer boy to make sure everyone hits a tool at the exact same time. But out there, in the streets and inside our homes, each one of us is still free to hit a saucepan in the way and with the rhythm we like.