10th October 2019
Like many other rebels, I'm on my way back, on a train heading home.
The journey home is lulling me slowly in a quiet and calm state of mind.
On my left arm I can still see the handwritten letters with the name of our lawyer. They are slowly fading away "... ...AN LOPEZ".
A couple of days after the action, my neck now starts hurting a bit more, as a reminder of our eviction on the bridge.
I have few very clear memories carved in my mind.
It is early morning and we're walking from our sleeping place to our meeting point
before the action. I can feel everyone's tension while we cross the dark and silent streets of Madrid.
Some of us are talking to each other to release the tension, I feel instead that I need a quiet space to focus a bit and prepare. So I'm the last one following my affinity group. I can see everyone in front of me, walking steadily. I can see courage and beauty in them.
I met most of them just the day before and I'm already feeling extremely proud of being part of this group.
Time feels still and the waiting endless until a couple of hours later.
With no apparent sign we are suddenly running towards the action. Hundreds of people are swarming around a pink boat and seems like ordered chaos is taking place. People shouting to call for help while others start chanting.
I'm sitting in the frontline and I can see the morning sun hitting my face so that I can barely look down the road in front of me.
I know that the police might appear any moment from this side to evict us. A lingering fear grows not knowing what might happen. But we're sitting here all together, and this gives me courage, and I can join everyone else singing: "...esta mañana me he despertado para empezar la rebellion!".
A couple minutes later I can see photographers and the press here in front of me, and in my mind a thought appears "YES, WE MADE IT!".
No matter what happens next.
Now it is two days later, late evening. I already packed my stuff the day before but I feel like I don't want to leave this place and the strong connections I made with each person I met. So I decide to go back to the camp in front of the "ministry for the ecological transition" to say goodbye.
I've been afraid during the day if the camp could slowly become smaller. But now I can see it is still crowded.
I hold my breath and my lungs are filled with hope.
Some people are dancing and throwing a party, some just returned from an action visibly tired, and others are preparing banners for the following day.
It is time for me to leave.
I know that these intense days are a short sprint within a marathon. That drastic change needs to happen now, but that we need the resilience to regenerate new energies for the long run.
It is time for reflection, for mending our injuries and our internal conflicts.
It is time to look back at how I managed my internal fears: "the police is coming!", "the mayor is threatening to evict the camp!", "the trees might fall!", and realise that all these are result of the violence of a system that wants to avoid change, wants to divide us and control us.
I can clearly feel that the courage to fight these fears grows from our collective connections.
I'm thinking at the comrades of my affinity group.
Our solidarity against their repression.
Until the next rebellion...