Chronicle of the Catalan human chain, section 193

Despite the bad weather, a long cue of cars is moving out of Barcelona towards the south. Families with young children, grandparents, young couples and groups of friends, busses packed with people, all of them are out to build a human chain for an independent Catalonia. On the rest areas dominates yellow and a festive mood. There are no hurries, no jostlings in the long lines at the cashier.

250 miles have been divided in sections of 1.4 miles. Our "chain section" is number 193 in Riudoms. Riudoms is about 60 miles south of Barcelona. The small town of 1,700 souls has never received so many people in one day. The farmers have let their fields as parking areas for the city dwellers. Red and yellow striped flags with a white star on blue background are blowing on the edges of the fields and throughout the village, the so called Estelada flag, the symbol of Catalonia's independence. At lunch visitors and residents sit together in the small village restaurants. We are at the restaurant of a small hostel, La Perla. There is a lot of conversation. We have come this far, now there is no going back, say most. During the meal, an elderly man in yellow t-shirt rises and with a warm, full voice sings "Dolça Catalunya, patria del meu cor" (Sweet Catalonia, home of my heart) as he walks through the dining room. At the chorus everyone in the restaurants falls in, my table neighbor discreetly wipes a tear from his eye.

At 16.40 o' clock we are on our road section. The sun is shining, the atmosphere has risen, children are sitting on outstretched Estelades waving to the TV-helicopters. Once and again the young volunteer from the Catalan National Assembly (ANC) passes by to make sure everyone is in its place. Exactly at 17.14 o' clock (because Catalonia lost its rights through the war in 1714) all the people around me and many more, as far as my eye can reach, take each other by the hand. There are giga-phones, so everyone on this 250 miles long human chain can follow the words of artists and organizers in Barcelona.

We are listening, holding hands for a long time, so that each section can be photographed. So nobody can say we were not there, that the independence movement was merely a political maneuver, so that the whole world knows that we are here to fight for our democratic right of self-determination.

The return trip goes faster than expected, everything is well organized: local policemen wave the cars through to the highway, no traffic jams, no reckless overtaking, the toll is free. I look into the cars as we pass: calm, happy faces and sleeping children.

Krystyna Schreiber