Our towns and cities do not take care of us. We lack land, green areas, community spaces. Our people are designed to serve the capital. In the care village, however, life is the center.
Before, there was a main street, a gigantic street that crossed the city. Consumption and production were in the middle, with a frenetic rhythm, and life in the slits, in the corners. Colonized life, expelled, absorbed until drying. Become a showcase for tourists.
But under the cement we find the earth. In some places, the marshes were restored, in others the living forests, as well as the grasslands. Birds approach wetlands, there are insects everywhere, beech, oak, strawberry. They make their way.
This coincided with the shrinking size of the city, when the restoration of biodiversity became a priority. In the village of the guard, the place there is spread among living beings. It's a climate refuge. The truth is, we don't need anything else. We have understood that we are not owners of sites, that we only need a refuge and a quiet and safe corner to look at the world.
Our towns and cities do not take care of us. We lack land, green areas, community spaces. Our people are designed to serve the capital.
There are a lot of urban orchards on the sides of the houses, on the stairs, on the rooftops, which happened when food sovereignty became a priority. There are also plants and grass on the walls. We can breathe deeply because the spread of modes of production is no longer an opportunity.
Now, in the care village, life is more possible. It's tailor-made for pedestrians. Most of us have a bicycle and there are routes to move anywhere on foot or in a wheelchair. We have markets within fifteen minutes. I go there every day. After the exchanges, most of us eat there. I'm going to the general assembly, the wood is deteriorating in the market stands, and I'm going to propose that it be fixed.
Then I'll use the block washer, Garazi and I stayed to put her daughter's clothes on my week's collar. I live with three other friends and with Garazi's daughter. It's hard to get the crop right sometimes, but we managed. Now I remember, the last time it was up to the neighbor to clean up the common spaces, that means this week it's up to me. I'll have to fix myself. It is not bad that work outside the home is limited.
Also, soon it will take me a year’s rest, and I will have time to explore new places, and then tell stories to Garazi’s daughter.
The feminist movement has organized for November 30 in Bilbao the People of Custody. Are you going to start building how our peoples are going to be?