A CUBAN ANTHROPOLOGIST AT MADRID BARAJAS
AIRPORT
I am catching a flight to MIA today via
FRA. Arriving just one our before departure, the silence at the International
Airport was palpable. The LH counter was empty, an agent named Cabrera (made me
think of Cabrera Infante, the writer) checked me in, within a few minutes, and
I was airside, amidst desperately lonely shops with tired looking attendants.
I am looking for Cuba everywhere. An
occasional mulatto gave me hope, but he just does not walk like a Cuban.
Along with the absent shoppers, were the
absent foreign workers. At any airport in Europe: recent immigrants would do,
at Frankfurt, Amsterdam, Paris or London, all the menial jobs and also attend
you at the shops. But here, all jobs, those which are there to be held, are
done by what looked like Spaniards. The tumult of the Indian faces were at the
check in counter of Air France, which offers attractive fares to its south
American destinations, via Paris….they looked like the usual immigrants
returning home, eyelids heavy with sleep, dressed with an urgency of departure
to their homelands. Many of the South Americans waiting in line ported symbols
of returning immigrants, large bulging bags, heavy carry on luggage, dressed in
multiple layers as if it was a journey to the Alps, but to accommodate extra clothes.
Many of the listless passengers had their ancestral Quechua etched on their
faces.
I was still looking for Cuba!
Sr.Cabrera miraculously reappears and makes
announcements in three different languages: Espagnol, English and German.. as
the flight was a Lufthansa flight to Frankfurt. A long line of passengers had
already formed to my left, a straggle of passengers to the right, with the
privilege to board first. I had adorned myself with my usual paraphernalia
including a prominent bag I had recently acquired in la Habana to carry
passport and the boarding pass, adorned with Bandera Cubana.
Observations on the line to the left:
Almost all of them were of South European
stock, with an occasional Northern Europeans looking distinctly out of place.
Spaniards are flocking to Germany in search of work, it had been announced and
that there are more Spaniards learning German now than English! Sign of the
times..
After Paris, one does get used to a svelte
haute fashion, among the ordinary people, and compared to that the Line on the
Left had horrible dress sense.
No one was smiling. It is true, airports
are not usually places of joy and on this flight going to Frankfurt,
especially, with all the frigidity it implies.
I am dressed no differently than I used to
dress 20 years ago while travelling. I even remember the first flight of that
year 1991, MIA-LAX-HNL on an ageing 747-200 coming in from GRU! Seated
Upstairs. Now the destinations have changed, fortunes of entire countries and
companies have changed as well. The recent prosperity of Brasil was an
unimaginable dream in 1991.
Oh Pobre Espana.. Poor Spain
Looked up as an up and coming giant of
economic development, with new democracy and membership in the EU strapped on
to it, is in financial ruins at the moment, with Catalunya threatening to secede!
Just last week, they were begging Correa of Ecuador and Dilma of Brasil for
economic help! Who would have imagined that? In 2004, just eight years ago,
there were close to 1 million illegal immigrants from Ecuador alone in Spain!
And as you entered any restaurant, South American faces from the Andean
countries greeted you. How the fortunes of the colonial master has changed!
I am reading a long interview with Eric
Hobswam, the erudite historian of the last century; the book is called the New
Century. Prof. Hobswam had recently passed away and his observations about what
was in store were astute and right on the mark.
Spain, Portugal, Greece and Cyprus.. are
all deep trouble, with the dream of a united Europe somewhat faded. Old hatreds
and prejudices have surfaced: immigrants, dark skinned people, Jews are now
bear the brunt of this hatred rising out of desperation resulting from years of
mismanagement. Pakistanis, Bangladeshis desperate to get into Europe, are being
subjected to extreme hatred in these troubled countries. And there are no jobs
for anyone, native or immigrant..
Back to Barajas..
No Wi Fi, an airport looking tired and
needing a little bit of make up. I imagined myself as a Diplomat, creating in
my imagination different scenarios.
The flight is about to take off..
I am sure unexpected pleasures await me.
