Abandoned dream This choice lot in central Jerez was supposed to be the site of a cultural center called Flamenco City, but it was never built
(3 of 3)
For months, the men and women meant to be driving those buses instead held a daily protest march at 10 a.m. to the sound of banging drums, following on foot the routes they used to make behind the wheel. Jaime González was one of them, and as he brought up the rear one day in mid-April, he avoided eye contact with the pedestrians who glared as the procession passed. "Nobody wants us to work more than we do," he said.
With two children to support, González was feeling the pressure acutely. His wife works on an on-call basis in a public hospital, but lately she hasn't been getting many shifts. His 9-year-old son has already adjusted to his family's predicament and will sometimes point out a cheaper brand when he accompanies his father shopping. González has been forced to rely on financial help from his siblings. "So far," he says, "we've managed to keep up with our bills."
In fact, family support appears to be the only thing keeping Jerez's citizens afloat these days. "It's almost expected now for young people in their 20s and 30s to stay at home and live off their parents," says José Maria Trillo, secretary general for the Jerez branch of the labor union Comisiones Obreras. "But we've got people here in their 40s and 50s living off their retired parents' pensions." Or even their children's income: after losing his job as a tractor driver two years ago, Manuel Medina pays his rent only with his daughters' help and the few euros he makes each day selling garlic collected in the fields outside town. "I never expected to be in this situation," he says.
A Bleak Tomorrow
For now, the government's response to the suffering is to ask for patience. The city expects to be able to pay back wages in June, when tax revenues begin to flow in. And it is trusting the central government to fulfill its promise to pay municipal suppliers in cities where the local government can't. But it makes no apologies for policies it believes are as necessary as they are painful. "It's like a boat that's sinking," says Deputy Mayor Saldaña. "We can keep everything the way it's been and let it sink. Or we can make the decision to lighten the load, even if it's painful, because that's the only way to keep the boat afloat."
It takes only a short walk through Jerez, though, to realize that simply getting rid of extra weight won't solve the problem without growth. There's hardly a block in the center without retail space standing empty, and unemployment in the city currently tops out at 36.37% — and that's before those 390 people are let go from city hall. More unemployment means less money for consumers to spend on local businesses and lower revenues for the city government. It's a death spiral.
Even if the bleeding is stanched, the question remains: How will Jerez — and Spain — ever return to anything like healthy economies? At the end of April, German Chancellor Angela Merkel announced she would present an agenda for growth at the European summit in June, and François Hollande's victory in France — as well as recent election results in Germany and Greece — suggests that Europe as a whole may be turning away from the path of pure austerity. Within Spain, Prime Minister Rajoy issued a new package of financial reforms on May 11 and prepared to inject public money into Spain's banks in order to loosen up credit. But with investors fleeing Spain, reversing the country's fortunes is going to require more than rhetoric and a few resolutions.
While Brussels and Madrid discuss what is to be done, Marisa Sánchez wakes up every morning worrying if her family will have food the next day and if they'll be able to hold on to their home. She has pared every luxury she can think of, freezing food for her truck-driver husband to take with him on his trips so he doesn't have to eat out and swapping even the family's modest tradition of a Sunday aperitif in one of the local cafés for a walk around town. With her husband's salary and help from her retired mother, Sánchez thinks they'll be able to make it until June, when her payments are supposed to resume. Given the mountain of debt the city still faces, she knows there are more painful months ahead. But it's the years that really worry her. "Sometimes," she says as she heads back into her lonely ticket booth, "I think no one is facing reality."