Time passes at a different pace in Weimar. Every week here is like two or three “real” weeks in the outside world. The days are full with experiences concentrated and their impacts magnified.
Looking back, lately I have the same impression for Greece. One year ago we were talking about the impacts of the first memorandum, the new economic adjustment programme, the budget and salary cuts, the new taxes… and we hoped. That there is a solution, that things are getting better, that we’ll make it. Then we got angry, we gathered as “indignant” citizens in squares to peacefully (or not so peacefully) demonstrate our opposition and declare that we are not mere “couch observers” (although many of us – maybe too many – actually were). And we still hoped that our voice can be heard, that our actions can provoke change, that we are too many to be ignored. Then we watched in outrage as a referendum proposal shook the whole Europe, and the country spent some days in political default (more like a headless chicken running around) effectively without government. And even then we hoped that this is happening for the better, that things are changing. We watched numbed as a coalition government was formed under the lead of a technocrat prime minister unknown to the wide masses. And even then, we hoped. We hoped not only because someone seemingly untouched by the greek political corruption was in charge but also because he couldn’t prove himself more incompetent from his predecessors. That little was enough to keep us hoping, that it can’t get worse. But it could, and it did. We just didn’t know at the time that in Greece, year 2012, people would be left without electricity supply because they wouldn’t have money to pay the – additional – real estate tax attached to their bills, that they would have to pay a “solidarity contribution”, pay for their medication and medical tests (although they have been paying their insurance fees), would face 19,2% unemployment, with 27,7% of the population living in poverty (numbers rapidly rising). And this is just the tip of the iceberg, numbers unable to describe every day of anxiety, fear and insecurity in greek society while people observe helplessly the disassembling of their lives.
Today, one year after, I don’t know if we can afford hope anymore. But if we can’t, then what is left? Beware, because desperate times call for desperate measures?
Today, one year after, I don’t know if we can afford hope anymore. But if we can’t, then what is left? Beware, because desperate times call for desperate measures?
