If, instead of taking so many photos with their mobile phones and looking with such interest and resignation at the nativity scene, the public closed their eyes, they would imagine that Plaça Sant Jaume reeks of faeces and fish. From the excrement that comes from the balls of the herds and flocks of sheep that go out there, not counting the more generous droppings of the donkey and the cow (in the middle of the collage), which we already know how the cows spend with the their killer ozone layer farts. And the fish? Why so many fish and so many fishermen? Is it a tribute to the four and a half boats that still catch four fish, well seasoned with the latest generation of microplastics?
But back to the crappy topic (sorry!) from the beginning. In the lower left, a girl defecates; it's the caganera We know this, not because of the stench, but because they put him in the least visible part of the stage. Maybe to respect his privacy. These chores are best done in private. We also know what she does on her stomach because she reads. If you do shallow waters, you don't bother to read. That it is a girl and not a boy raises questions that we avoid answering. And that he reads while evacuating gives us ideas about the quality of many publications, thoughts that we will let disappear when we pull the chain. And that he poops is confirmed by the fact that his uncle accompanies him close by, silent and supportive, and wrapped in a blanket, as he should be. Both are companions of fatigues and (perhaps) brunettes. We Catalans like the eschatological thing.
We have nothing to say about Pep, na Mari and Txus. they are handsome And about the angel of the Annunciation, we will only comment that from now on we will not look at each other the same way as the workers who hang themselves to clean the windows of the building where the editorial office of La Vanguardia is located. We thought they were spies from the competition photographing the – few – exclusives of the following day... and no. The LGTBIQ (I don't think I'll leave any acronyms), are also there, at the ends: two girls kissing and two boys half-embraced and looking in love, while holding balloons that become symbols of the other balloons, the ones that 'fit the penis. We think about it because International AIDS Day is celebrated in the square.
The Three Chimneys of the Besòs act as bodyguards for the real kings, those of the East, who do not need any Constitution to back them up. We also have the mother, all day in the kitchen to make a finger-licking stew. And next to it, a gentleman who looks like a broker in an apron, who has folded before work because today (a day is a day!) he wants to make dinner. Surely the farmers' guild and the merchants (how many stalls at the nativity scene!), have contributed something to the assembly. Barcelona looks like Alcarràs. There is even a woman who drives a tractor, a vehicle that we all know clogs the streets of the capital every day.
Two more ideas. On the stage of this theater of life that this nativity scene wants to be, the oldest are the ones who hang the most. So that later they say they are the leeches of the public treasury. Second idea; women work more than men, a reflection of reality. And a third, although we said it would be two. There are sheep, dogs, a cow and a donkey. But we miss the wild boars, which have already become an indigenous species in many neighborhoods... along with the tourists. Maybe in the next nativity scene.
