This problem has been ignored for too long. Nobody’s doing anything about it. And as it affects me directly, I’ve made the decision to do something myself. But what to do, that’s the question.
After a little thought the answer is obvious. We must go to the police! Explain the situation. That’s what the police are for, to sort out citizens’ problems. First we must decide which police, though. There are several varieties of police in Spain but here in La Gomera our choice comes down to two: the Guardia Civil or the Policía Local.
Maybe not the Guardia, a national force that regularly publicises its success in seizing million-euro consignments of crack cocaine or catching international criminals with false moustaches in Marbella. The Policía Local seems more the right level for our kind of complaint.
I have already prepared a one-page report on the problem, complete with photograph and explanatory text in faultless Spanish. Well, it looks faultless to me. This should save too much nervous babbling and hand-waving when face to face with a police officer.
Choosing our time carefully - not too early in the morning, but safely before desayuno (breakfast) at around 10:30 when everyone goes out for a coffee and sandwich, including most of the police - we head towards what passes for the local police station.
One of the clearest indications that this town is not a hotbed of petty crime is that there isn’t really a police station. The Policía Local have a small office in a multi-purpose building which they share with, among other organisations, the local land registry. It’s on the outskirts of town and not easy to find unless you know where to look. Their sign includes a rather nice modern logo that reminds me of Dr Who’s Tardis, an old-time police telephone box.Passing through the modest entrance portal into a surprisingly long corridor, we walk past a branch to the right which leads to the land registry then straight on to a small doorway down at the far end. A small sign to the left of the door announces Policía Local: Atención al Ciudadano, Attention to the Citizen, which is encouraging. The door is open, revealing a small office with a large desk but nobody behind it. I knock politely on the door - always best to show respect - and from an inner office emerges a youngish police officer (they’re all youngish when you’re my age), at first cautiously then with a nice smile. ‘Sí?’
We have a small problem, we explain. Nothing serious, but it needs looking at. He ushers us into his inner office and indicates two chairs in front of his desk.
I begin by explaining that we cycle every day into town and often call into the covered market, where we park our bikes in the pedestrian street outside. ‘Vale,’ right, nods the policeman. Clear enough so far. There’s a bike rack, I tell him, where we leave our bikes, and in this bike rack is an abandoned bicycle. It’s got two flat tyres and it has been there for several months. This wouldn’t matter so much except that the bike is right in the middle of the rack where it really gets in the way.
I hand him my written account and point to the photo, then watch a little nervously as he peruses the report - is this too trivial, am I wasting police time? - but he nods thoughtfully. ‘It’s locked to the rack?’‘It is. Cable and lock.’
‘It would be less of a nuisance if it were at one end,’ he comments. Yes, exactly!
A colleague wanders in to see what’s going on, nods cheerfully at us - we’ve known him for a long time - and takes a look at the photo. ‘This tree’s in the way as well,’ he points out. ‘It’s not a good place for a tree.’
‘It isn’t,’ agrees the first policemen. He straightens up, looking perkier. He’s beginning to see his way to a solution. It might be best, he observes thoughtfully, to get the Ayuntamiento, the town council, to move the rack to somewhere more sensible, away from the tree. And get rid of the bike at the same time.
Well, yes, but...
‘Leave it with me,’ he says. ‘Can I take a copy of this report?’
‘Keep it, keep it,’ I offer generously. ‘It’s for you.’
Nothing more we can do. Handshakes all round, thanks for your time etc, then the first policeman escorts us to the door. We leave feeling we’ve done our citizens’ duty but fairly sure the abandoned bike will still be there several months later. My report is going to be passed to the Ayuntamiento along with a recommendation that they move the entire bike rack to a different location. This will take time.
Two weeks later…
Parking my bike as usual in the rack, it took me a moment to realise that something had changed. Tree still there, rack still there - but the abandoned bike had gone. Six clear slots to choose from.
How wrong I was to doubt! Of course the police would take action! And commendably quickly too - I’m sure there were a few forms to fill in, stamp, copy and file before they could send someone along with bolt cutters to sever the cable. I would like to record here my sincere thanks to the Policía Local not only for removing the bike but also for demonstrating that in a free and open society, the citizen’s voice is heard.
Postscript
Why did I delete this story after its first posting? Because the bike reappeared, that’s why. Just a few days after it had gone. Complete with cable and lock, and in the same place in the middle of the bike rack. I assumed the owner had noticed its disappearance and demanded its return. Best to keep my head down for a while.
However, a week or so later it vanished again and this time it didn’t come back. My best guess is that at the first try someone had neglected to follow the proper administrative procedures for removing bicycles from bike racks, and was obliged by somebody else to put it back before doing so.
Also somewhat fearsome in appearance but generally just as friendly are the Guardia Civil, who wear green uniforms and drive military-green vehicles. They are concerned mostly with the heavier issues such as robbery, violence, drugs and traffic accidents so on this island it’s a fairly light workload, but they do cruise around in their vehicles to keep an eye on things. In contrast to the Policía Local they occupy a splendid, fortress-like building on a hill overlooking the town.
The Guardia was once an important tool of subjugation for the Generalísimo, Francisco Franco, and today’s Guardia still has the official motto Todo por la patria – all for the mother country. However, the Guardia themselves are now far removed from that dark history, a well-respected body of men and women, the kind Granny would be delighted to see her grandchild sign on for while other grannies’ offspring roam the world in bare feet.
No comments:
Post a Comment