Savage and Savvy: The Inner-City Elite

by Lars Nielsen // photos by Diana Bagnoli

Barcelona is a life laboratory for all of us, in one way or another, and there’s a wealth of knowledge to be gained from our common experiment. When undertaking any proper excursion into madness, however, methods should be employed to make survival not only easier but also more enjoyable. Take, for example, Barcelona’s winged residents. In one corner, the greasy, mite-ridden, club-footed pigeons; in the other, the little green cotorras that have given the Ajuntament a headache since their invasion because their behavior follows a different logic. In this, BCN WEEK’s first Lifestyle issue, we present a valuable lesson to be learned from the cotorra guiris: mix with the jumble only in order to get what you want. Swoop in and snatch, then fly off to a comfortable perch above the miserable masses.

Lifestyle trends are all around us, and knowing which trend you’re invariably destined to follow is as simple as recognizing your financial status. In glossier mags you might find tips on refrigerator management, seduction-greasing essential oils, electronic devices that fill a void you didn’t know you had, or the patterns of cloth in which everyone will be swathed next season. But these trend advisors offer options that only tie readers tighter to an already-stressed middle-class mooring.

BCN WEEK’s lifestyle issue is dedicated to all the mileuristas who pull tendencias from free papers and don’t even bother to beguided. We offer three well-tested and established life management methods that more cunning residents are already employing expertly. By following their lead you’ll get one step closer to a standard of living that will fill you with a delicious feeling of accomplishment.

The key, you see, is to get ahead at all costs. That’s the new black in Barcelona. It’s a gos-eat-gos world out there, and as city bosses sell Barcelona’s soul to the lowest bidder, a lot of Barna’s residents are also taking the low road to higher gains. No one is going to help you until you help yourself, and sometimes the best way to soar like a cotorra is to take a leaping jump off the neck of another. Don’t sweat the karma police. Like beauty, ethics are all in the eye of the beholder.

Rent Control à la Catalana

What would you say if I told you that you could live the rest of your Barcelonan life rent free, or, at the very least, pay an extremely reduced rent rate? Would you believe me? Yes, you too can join the thousands of guiris and Spaniards alike who are enjoying the benefits of large open living spaces with precious, oh-so-precious light, for a fraction of the going rates.

In the tried and true tradition of shit running downhill, the entrepreneurial spirit blossoms from such implied fertilization here in Barcelona. The coolest, hippest kids are in on this one, making their own lives much easier. With a little bit of forward thinking and just a small investment, you can join the upper ranks of the lowest rung and start your free step dancing around others’ struggle and frustration.

You’ve got to contract a flat, a big flat, with at least four bedrooms. Flats in l’Eixample are the best because, if you’re patient enough, you’ll probably be able to get a massive one with two living areas, one of which you should keep to yourself, of course. Imagine a living area with an attached bedroom all to yourself…and you’re paying nothing! ¡Menuda ilusión!

With agency fees and deposits, getting the keys to a place can get up into the thousands, but don’t let that get you down. As with any small business, making the idea work is just a matter of patience, persistence and cunning. Keep your eye on the prize, young heretic, because before you’ve even signed the contract there will already be hundreds of people looking for triste holes like the ones you’ll have control over to dangle above their desperate heads, like a down comforter over a bed of nails.

The good news for you naysayers is that the central Spanish government has recently made negotiating those high start-up fees easier. The new financial assistance offered to Spanish youngsters or kids from any EU member state between the ages of 22 and 30 who are making under 22,000€ provides 210€ every month as an income supplement to offset rental costs. That’s a great help in and of itself, because those 210€ can go right in your pocket as your future inquilinos will be paying the bulk, if not all, of your rent. But the true value of this new governmental aid is the possible 600€ aval that is available for deposits.

A warning is due, however, because you will be responsible for managing the affairs of your enterprise, and dealing with the erratic tendencies of Barcelona’s transitory residents’ far edge won’t necessarily be easy. But again, I urge you to keep your eye on the prize. With just a little determination and hardening of feelings and ethics, just by assuming a little of the dark smudge that paints slumlords, your current financial reality will not only become more cómoda, but when you decide to turn a more noble shade of adult, you’ll be completely outfitted with furniture and appliances, all paid for by the sweat and fear of others not so listo.

The alternative, sharing the trenches on an even playing field with those you live with, is just tonto.

MANGAR

tr. hurtar, robar:

¡Me han mangado el abrigo!
They've stolen my coat!
Eh tío, yo mango. ¿Por qué tu no?
Hey man, I steal. Why don't you?

If you’ll forgive the over-obvious movie reference, the first rule of Yo Mango is that you do not talk about Yo Mango. But I’m going to break that rule because yo desobedezco. The bottom line argument of this subversive social movement, or, depending on your punto de vista, criminal movement, is that we can make a difference in our heinously consumerist reality by liberating products from their branded bindings in risky undercover rescue operations at shopping centres and supermarkets the world over. Yeah, that’s right; “shoplifting” is the uglier yet more common word.

For all of you out there fighting kleptomaniac tendencies —like Winona Ryder, who has the dubious honour of being the movement’s cover girl— justifying your itch with socially important reasoning probably has your sticky fingers already clenching in kegel-like practice. For those of you who take pride in your good citizenship and general servitude to The Man’s machine, your clenching is probably more sphincter related, revealing your shock at such a suggestion.

Two web sites, www.yomango.org and www.yomango.net, make what is sometimes a compelling argument that we are all trapped in an out-of-control machine and our only remedy is rebellion via stealing. Well, not the only remedy, because the sites do link to other movements trying to be subversive, but mango-ing is probably the easiest and most exciting way to affect social change…and you get free stuff! The .org site has an incredibly useful section full of trucos and consejos on how to avert mirrors, cameras and those pesky anti-theft devices, as well as legal advice should you be nabbed.

The Yo Mango movement rose to such a state of éxito that they ironically became just what they were fighting against, una marca. In July of 2007, managers of the .org site closed the forums and stopped taking emails. Yo Mango must simply exist as a decentralized practice undefined by a group. No one speaks on behalf of Yo Mango, no one is Yo Mango. Except you, that is, because yo mango eres tu.

Much more fun than the almost 1,000 word Mango manifesto are the videos on YouTube. Do a search (or cheat) and whatever doubts you still have will evaporate. Two videos in particular present fun yet poignant statements of intent and purpose. The first takes place here in lovely Barcelona: a December 2002 Mango Tango invasion of the Carrefour monster on Las Ramblas. As Argentina was officially coming out of the worst of its economic crisis, six tangoing pairs accompanied by musicians and statement makers danced their way in and out, carrying with them bottles of cava as security guards stood staring on in disbelief.

The second is of a massive dinner in Geneva that united nationalities from the world over with the delicious rewards of thievery. As the World Summit of the Information Society in 2003 gathered men in suits to talk over important stuff, mangoers ate like kings. Faces painted in felicidad are perhaps where the poignancy can most easily be found, because, tragically, the hope that beams from those smiling faces was born from such an ultimately empty and consequence-free action.

Never mind that. There’s no room here for deep thoughts. You too, my friend, are held prisoner in the machine, and there’s no getting out. Can’t you see it’s simply best to take on a mango way of life and work your disorder any way you can? Remember, yo mango eres tu, so wanna have dinner at my place tonight? Together we can make a difference, because, before you know it, we’ll soon be buying bottled air to go along with our bottled water, and we’ll do so happily.

A User's Guide to Sucking the Socialist Teat

by Neill Higgins

Here’s a proposal: how does the offer of unlimited free time sound? Coupled with a decent enough monthly wage, and all this just for sleeping in til mid-morning and then scratching your huevitos en la playa all afternoon? A spot of seafood tapas in la Barceloneta at dusk, and then de copas in the evening sin compromiso?

Heed my advice. Avoid the dark and murky shark-infested waters of la vida laboral española. Quit that English teaching day job; open the flood gates of opportunity for yourself. Paro is your word of the day.

Sometime last summer, a friend suggested the idea of signing on to the paro to me: Spanish income support, the dole, welfare my American friends! My first reaction was: siendo guiri, how could I qualify for this aforementioned socialist bounty? I was flippant in snubbing these wise words of financial guidance, dismissing them as empty-headed little urban mitos. Little did I know that a month later I would be basking in the pleasure of a good summer-long suck on the social welfare nipple. Mmm.

So, how to book your ticket on this wondrous gravy train with final destination social welfare bounty? Well, in simple terms, guiri or not, you’ll need to conseguir a nice clean break from your beloved contrato de mierda. If you are lucky enough to have a contrato de tiempo duración determinada (temporary contract) this will come easy to you when it dies its natural death. Those of us who are unlucky enough to have had a contrato indefinido (life sentence) inflicted upon us, we have a touch more work to do. But fear not, all is within your grasp.

The key to all this is your certificado de empresa, which is basically a grand old summary of all your worked days and exactly how much you have racked up, ready for extraction. Getting your anxious, sticky little fingers on this very necessary paperwork just requires some tenderness and buen rollito to be established with your jefe. Actually, as a general rule I would recommend a lengthy and well-planned ego massaging campaign for your boss to ensure that that golden documentation wings itself your way.

With your certificado de empresa and official letter of fin de contrato in hand, you’re laughing. Just a little more paper trail to rustle up. Dig out your last 6 nóminas (pay slips), all your contracts, their accompanying certificados de empresa and finally your bank libreta. Make photocopies of all this, along with your DNI/NIE más passport should you be a guiri, and roll on down to your nearest INEM (paro) office late one morning to sign on.

Oh, worth a mention is the fact that you need to have worked some amount of time previously, regrettably. Generally if you’ve cotizado a year’s worth of wonga, you’re looking at a tidy 3 month paro stint. Upward of 540 days cotizado and the good times begin to roll in with your ass deserving 6 months of paro love.

A sweet little EU acuerdo to ice this sweet and creamy socialist cake is the reciprocal social security agreement that exists between most EU countries. Es decir, any cash you injected into the state in any EU country can be claimed in Spain through the paro. Happy happy. Pide the necessary documentation in said country and see your government-financed life of leisure stretch out reassuringly months ahead of you.

Barcelona is a city of leisure and pleasure; it is a city of great landmarks, the beach, the sun… so why spend all your waking hours grinding together a living as a mere mileurista? My advice is enjoy what the city has to offer, or, hell, take a trip—you only have to sign on every 3 months.