As a world, as nations, as regions and as cities, we are so tragically divided.
The mood of some of this post will inevitably reflect the tragedy of the DANA1, for this has had an effect on Communidad Valenciana that may never be forgotten. This weather phenomenon struck several parts of Spain, but on October 29th 2024, approximately one year’s worth of rain fell in the Valencia region in one day. An isolated area of low pressure at high levels was the cause (undoubtedly exacerbated by climate change) and it is one of the deadliest natural disasters in Spanish history. Enormous damage and loss of life was inflicted on a huge area in a very short time.
And so, ours was a visit that may never have happened. The DANA struck less than 3 weeks before our planned arrival in Valencia, and the situation in the region and city was initially unclear from the often non-specific news coverage2. As the hours and days passed, it became clear that the city itself was unaffected (at least physically) and the general tone coming from both official and local sources was that visitors remained welcome.
But here is the first of our divisions: the anti-tourist lobby in Valencia is small but often vociferous. With their protest sharpened by the tragedy of the DANA, they pushed back against the visitor: “Leave us alone to recover, leave us to mourn, leave us to get back to normal”3.
In our minds, the “please visit” lobby won the day. We are not tourists after all: we are lucky enough to have a home in this incredible place. I had legal matters to attend to in connection with that, and meetings with letting agents and prospective tenants. As with every other visitor, it was very important to behave respectfully, but also to enjoy the city and continue pay for services, to travel, shop, eat, drink and contribute to an economy that would need every positive input that it can get in the coming years.
As advised, we had carried what we could to contribute to the huge recovery effort outside the city to the south and the west. Masks familiar to us from the COVID pandemic, disposable gloves, things that the Cruz Roja and volunteers needed to continue their staggering efforts. But as is so often the case, these needs had changed by the time we arrived… the Cruz Roja had run out of storage for such supplies, so financial contributions were now preferred.
I made such a contribution, but it never feels like enough. The masks and gloves were stored in the apartment. I couldn’t help feeling they would be needed one day.
Very soon after the DANA struck the populations immediately south and the west of the city itself, it was the public holiday of Todos los Santos. What gradually emerged on social media on that day was footage of thousands of Valencianos marching from the city, armed with brooms, mops, buckets, bottled water and anything else they could carry. They marched south from the city, across the great, wide, expanse of the redirected Rio Turia. They marched across the bridges that spanned the water and the highways that lined its route, and they marched into La Torre and any other areas they could reach.
It’s likely that the devastation that they witnessed made the mops and buckets in their hands seem useless, but they were there, and they offered up their help to those in great need. There can be no greater endorsement of the spirit of the Valencian people than this.
And despite this, it’s clear that another tragic division has emerged. As well as for the incredible street art that you can see in the city, walls are used for comment, complaint, protest and reaction. The volunteers are still helping in the stricken areas, yet the messages on the walls demonstrate a feeling of abandonment coming from the south and west. Now more than ever, there was division between the city and the Pobles del Sud and beyond.
It’s clear that warnings of the potential devastation to come were woefully inadequate, and the reaction of the regional government to the devastation was slow. This will no doubt be the source of some of these feelings of abandonment. This “them and us”.
Carlos Mazón, the President of Communidad Valenciana has taken much of the blame. He is a Partido Popular4 politician, and as such will court precious little popularity with the working populations of the stricken areas. Mazón is alleged to have been enjoying a 3-hour lunch in the city on the day of the DANA, eating and drinking as the devastation spread. This, along with the deadly delays in the arrival of help to some areas has resulted in huge protests against Mazón, and continued calls for his resignation. You can see the messages on the walls, and still hear random cries in the streets: “Mazón dimisión!!”. The anger still burns.
The city felt subdued as we went about our business. Appointments with an abogada and a notario to wrap up some legal matters, shopping for the apartment and ourselves, welcoming our letting agent and a potential tenant to view the apartment.
We walked the city as always, had great meals and saw familiar faces. The weather was beautiful5 despite a couple of windy days. These were not beach days (although some appeared to disagree) but a walk through the marina for a drink overlooking the water and along the Paseo Maritimo for paella was the usual delight.
The owner of a favourite restaurant in the old town welcomed us as ever. The restaurant had been quiet since the DANA, but he was positive of a return to normal. He had a forthright view on Mazón, and we were inclined to agree with it:
As he was out of limoncello, we discussed the situation over a couple of mistelas. Without hesitation, he described Mazón as a “fucking asshole!!”, so we got some idea of how he felt about that. He went on to say that yes, Mazón must resign, as many thousands were demanding… “but he must own his shit first”. He cannot run away. He must do the right thing and improve the situation at the very least.
Here is another division. Even
within “the people v. Mazón” lobby there will be divided opinions. Our friend
says he cannot run until he’s done the right thing. Others will demand an
immediate resignation, others look for an even more extreme demise, as advertised on the walls of the Generalitat Valenciana.
Our last words to our friend were: “el año que viene, mas
sonrisas”. More smiles next year.
The DANA will affect the communities outside the city itself, to the south and west, for many years to come. We saw daily news reports. A farmer had lost most of his stored potato crop worth several million euros. Househoilders and shop owners crying tears of fear and frustration. Locals and volunteers trying to sweep away the liquid mud, all the while risking serious illness from the sewer-infected filth. This type of struggle and loss will repeat over and over across the region. Hundreds are dead, and this will cut very deep across those communities.
I can’t escape the bitter irony of the precious Valencian soil. It’s what you sweep from your balcony and windowsills. It the dust that joins the leaves and city detritus and rises in flurries in the breezy streets. It lends the city its ethereal terracotta hue in the low winter light. It’s in the very air of Valencia because it surrounds Valencia and forms the great, fertile Huerta de Valencia6 that feeds people and communities and industry in the region, and much, much further afield.
The awful irony is that when a year’s worth of rain came down in 1 horrific day, this Valencian soil became the liquid mud that inundated homes and businesses. It destroyed hundreds of lives and livelihoods, washed thousands of cars into heaps on the streets, and turned vast areas of precious land into a fetid swamp.
The distress and anger was at such a peak in Paiporta7 when visited by the King, Queen and Prime Minister that this mud was literally thrown at them. They were forced to escape from a well-intentioned visit that turned very sour.
To date, 222 people have lost their lives in the Valencia region as a result of the DANA. Others have been lost in Castile-La Mancha and Andalucia.
With our business and visit concluded, we left with warm memories of the city once again, of excellent food and drink as ever, of faces new and old. But we left a subdued city. Valencia doesn’t lose its dignity, nor its poise. But the anger remains. The divisions remain.
This post is dedicated to all who have been lost as a result of the DANA 2024 in Communidad Valenciana and beyond, and to all those affected.
1 To avoid any misunderstanding, I should make it clear that DANA is not one of the foolish names given to storms by some meteorological office or another. It’s the acronym that describes the weather phenomenon that caused this awful tragedy: Depresión Aislada en Niveles Altos.
2 Lazy news coverage will use the word Valencia without making the distinction between Valencia the city (Valencia Capital) and Valencia the region (Communidad Valenciana). This can be misleading, and caused many to believe that the floods had inundated the city itself, at least initially.
3 There is no normal, and that’s why the city and region are what they are. You might go so far as to say that such disasters make the city what it is, they shape its people and its outlook.
4 Broadly UK Conservative Party equivalent.
5 I don’t know if there’s a syndrome that describes “weather guilt”. I’m fully aware that it’s irrational, but I felt genuinely guilty about enjoying warm sunshine and light breezes so soon after that deluge that had destroyed so many lives. I was told by several people that it didn’t even rain in the city itself on that awful day.
6 The Huerta de Valencia (roughly translated as The Orchard) is a huge area of farmland and fruit, vegetables, grape and rice growing areas. It extends some 120km2 around the city of Valencia. La Huerta supplies the markets and restaurants of Valencia, but its abundant production of fruits and vegetables is exported to the rest of Spain and abroad.
7 It’s very likely (i.e. absolutely definite) that the political hard right in Spain saw an “opportunity” in this visit, and were involved in the unrest that arose in Paiporta on that ugly day. That said, there can be no doubt that local anger and frustration were a very real factor.
The hard right in Spain thrive on
division, as do so many on the extremes of politics. We are so divided.