Some people have asked me why I decided to move back to Spain. Why , why , why ? I am afraid to disappoint you but there is not a magic answer, I haven´t fallen in love or I haven´t found the perfect job (does it even exist one?). I have built a life in London for 7 years and now I am coming back to a place where my last memory was the one of a naif 21 year old girl who thought London was the place to live and to die. I just simply wanted to come back; there is no need to have “A Reason”. It has taken me three years to understand this. Many people have also said that I can always come back, that London is not going anywhere. But I have, I have probably left the city years ago even though I was physcally living there.
Lots of people say that Spain is a broken country, pretty much everyone except my father who is the eternal optimist. Well I guess that if it is broken someone will have to fix it, am I right? Of course I am not the solution but I feel I owe something to this country. From my experience and by listening to people on the streets I think spaniards we tend to look down on ourselves while comparing us with other countries (specially Europe and North America). Sometimes I have the feeling that for some people we are just the fool of Europe. Guess what? We are not. I have met so many Spanish people who are incredibly talented, hard working and above all that they are fighters. On the other hand I have kept so many friends here who are fighting to keep working, to keep living with dignity. So to me we are just simply good fighters, inside or outside.
London was and it is to me an ecletic spider web of people, the memories of them are what I have brought back. I think of London as a grey womb where many uneven souls come to get lost and be reborn again.
I have always said that I became Galician in London. The endless freedom that London gives you to be who you truly are can be sometimes overwhelming. And there is always a point where you need to look inside to find your roots, to look for an anchor and don´t dragged into the craziness of the city.
Some people can see my departure as failure, I personally see it as a victory. London is a kind of net that traps you and at some point you start to believe there is no life outside Zone 3. Don´t get me wrong, London is the greatest city in the world to me (New York is also cool though). I deeply love it she´s been my most loyal and faithful lover for almost 7 years. But it I guess it was time to move on.
We live in a world with the latest technology where people live obsessed with the origin of things, some examples: crafted beer, hand carved wooden spoons, homemade bread, organically sourced meat…Well I could say that I have come back to craft that part of me that London has given me and melt it with the part I left here.
Some of you have read other pieces that I wrote in the past, this is the second time that I try to write in english. I would like to apologise for all my mistakes but I felt I owe the english language this effort. Speaking another language expands your freedom somehow; it gives another edge to your personality allowing you to think outside the box because you have to. To speak you need to think, to dream, to scream, to cry, to fuck, to laugh, to mourn, to love in those words that one day were completely meaningless. Now with time, with 7 years behind your back these words became so yours that no one can take them away and somehow you´ll never be the same. The same way that any Galician people can´t live without the word morriña next to their bed. Words are alive because people live through them.
So my dear London friends thank you for building the city and thank you for your sweet love on those last days, thank you, thank you, thank you. My dear London city thank you being just you and letting me to be just me. And last but not least I would like to thank myself to make it to London and make it back home. Well the word home seems a bit vague and blurry these days, let´s just turn the page and see what happens on the next chapter.
A todos los que se quedaron, a los que se van a ir y a los que volverán, gracias.
Photo: Lucas Levitan