| "I grew up in Rome – it's true, the city centre is very pretty, but sometimes I don't feel like it is my city," says Ernesto, standing on a hill in the Roman suburbs as some 20 people set up for a political concert nearby. "My city is out here," he adds, pointing out one of the major dualities of Europe: while visitors come to see the remnants of the past and the art of the modern age, just a stone's throw away are people living their everyday lives, in the shadows of old castles, temples and fortresses, and, in many cases, building up things that are quite different.
As I think back on months of travel in Europe, Ernesto’s words hint at a second and more unpleasant duality – although tourist money is one of the driving factors in the economies of many European countries and has enabled the preservation of so much art and history, tourists are also a nuisance to many of the communities they visit. Traditional ways of life are exploited for profit, young backpackers descend on clubs and drive locals away, and expensive hotels buy up property that once belonged to local residents. Every year, Europeans are swarmed by millions of tourists asking, "Do you speak English?" and complaining that locals are flustered.
Although Europe has a large infrastructure to accommodate tourists, it is not hard to step outside it and find ways to give back to the places you visit. Virtually every community has something to become involved in, and the social centres that dot Italy and Spain are among the best examples.
Social centres (or CSOAs, as they are often known) are generally abandoned buildings that have been taken over by squatters and converted into community spaces. While some operate as local meeting places for social justice groups, often supported by a cheap bar, others offer everything from free food and shelter to entertainment, usually with an "alternative" point of view. The social centres first came to prominence in Italy and Spain in the 1960s and ’70s, as part of a revitalized movement against fascism, poverty and war, and have remained a fixture in many cities ever since. Social centres range in size and location, from huge abandoned buildings (including an old school in Seville and a three-storey office building in the suburbs of Milan) to tiny holes in the wall, using vacant suites tucked into the middle of crowded city blocks. While in some places these centres have established themselves and are mostly left in peace by authorities, in many others they have been repressed, sometimes brutally, by governments and police forces. However, they have endured.
The social centre in Rome where Ernesto lives has held on for years and flourished, staging concerts and other events and keeping close ties with the community around it – nearly everyone in the neighbourhood knows someone who lives or volunteers there, which may be the main reason for the success of these centres. While they are self-sufficient in many cases, able to provide for the needs of the people depending on them, they are not the detached hippie communes of the ’60s. These centres are connected to their communities and to other centres, helping people to fight evictions, as well as to organize demonstrations and other events.
While social centres are the backbone of community-rooted activism in many places, this activism takes other forms as well. With right-wing anti-immigration political parties making headway in Europe in recent years, many immigrants struggle with the governments in their adoptive countries, and local activists often help them in their efforts to get work permits and citizenship. In Paris, a group of paperless immigrants staged a hunger strike this past spring in an attempt to force the government into action, and gathered the support of many Parisians, from high school students to fellow workers. Food Not Bombs (FNB), a loose-knit, international group of collectives working against poverty and war, has taken root in Spain and is also beginning to grow in Italy, centred around Bologna, the country’s culinary capital and student centre.
"I do not think we are so organized as you," says Francesca, a volunteer with Bologna's chapter of FNB, referring to Calgary’s group. "We are, I think, more lazy." In a region of the world renowned for an outgoing, laid-back lifestyle, it would be difficult to refer to Italian or Spanish activists as lazy given their accomplishments. While meetings can be long and three hours consecrated to eating a single meal, there is much to show for so many years of work.
Reflecting on this, I felt a little regretful about sticking to a forward-bound itinerary across the continent, leaving so many places and people behind, and hoped that in some way I’d been able to contribute to the cities I’d been to. Europe is probably the most developed region on Earth, and its activism shows this, offering a huge number of ways to work with, help out and learn from the local communities – more than anything, maybe, this last thing will stick with me, because it seems that there is much to learn from the struggles and successes of these places.
Check out a social centre near you
Here’s a short list of contacts in some of the major cities in Spain and Italy. I’ve tried to pick the most open and stable places to list, in the hope that they will still be there if you decide to track them down.
· Barcelona – Sometimes considered the most "alternative" city in Europe, Barcelona has a large, well-organized network of more than 20 social centres spread out across the city, plus more in the surrounding areas. The best place to start is El Lokal (1bis Calle de la Cera, in the El Raval neighbourhood), an anarchist bookstore with a list of social centres in the Barcelona area and a list of events at each of them.
· Seville – A pretty, historic, mid-sized city, Seville has two social centres, one of which screens anime films on Wednesday evenings. The newer of the two centres is located in the old Collegio de San Bernardo, in the San Bernardo neighbourhood – from the main bus station, walk towards the market, pass around or through it, until you see a large bridge. From the far side of the bridge, there should be access to a main street. The centre is less than five minutes from here – if you get lost, you can ask just about anyone in the neighbourhood for directions.
· Milan – In contrast to the city’s reputation as a fashion and financial capital, Milan also has an active political scene with about 10 social centres and the largest May Day demonstrations in Europe. Pergola (halfway down via Pergola, half an hour west of the central train station), a social centre-cum-hostel, is a good place to relax, eat and meet people to find out about what’s going on in the city. Loved and hated, Leon Cavallo, the best-known social centre in Italy, is also found here, although not in its original location.
· Naples – A colourful, friendly city (albeit with a bad reputation), Naples has a few social centres, the largest of which is perched on a hill, overlooking the main street market. From the market, walk towards the bottom of the rocky hill to the north, then take an escalator to the top, turn left and follow the street uphill and around a bend. The centre is three stories tall and has a fenced courtyard.
· Rome – Large and slightly confusing, Rome’s activism is spread over a lot of space and spectrums. Volsci (in Via dei Volsci, close to the Termini train station) is a squatter bar-restaurant with cheap food and information on Roman activism. |
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