The Long Hard Slope

In Spain it's known as La Cuesta de Enero - The January Slope. After the Christmas lights come down and the wrapping paper has been stuffed into bin bags and tossed into the nearest rubbish skip along with the congealed remnants of whatever unfortunate beast has been sacrificed to grace the festive feast, January awaits us with her icy embrace and whispers frostily in our ear; "Check your bank balance, darling - it's time for a reality check."

The true nature of this reality check is that, for many of us, The January Slope is something of a myth. It would be closer to the mark to call it a February, March, April, May and Etcetera Slope. If you have ever gone through a period of reduced income with no clear light at the end of the tunnel, you'll know of what I am speaking. As a teacher of English as a foreign language I may be fulfilling a vital role in aiding the future economic security of my students, but I am also a member of a notoriously underpaid and undervalued profession. Times are tough; reduced hours make for personal austerity measures that leave little to spend on the small day-to-day luxuries and none whatsoever for the more substantial ones, those day trips and holidays that even now after years of La Crisis, many take for granted. Getting from one end of the month to the other is like vaulting across a chasm with a pole that barely spans the gap.

Personal woes aside, this part of Spain has been hit especially hard by the economic downturn and there are countless families and individuals for whom each new month is a painful hike to the top of a stony slope, only to find that another awaits them over the horizon, then another and another. Among young men in the Province of Granada, the unemployment rate stands at around a third, and many of this generation have no prospects of ever finding a way out of the shadows. They are the Ni-Nis, with no education and no job, and although we must take personal responsibility for our life choices, what realistic, viable and long-term futures are there for these young men to whom local councils can at best offer a temporary contract cleaning the streets so that they can pay a little national insurance and claim their unemployment benefit?

Over the heads of many homeowners hangs another doom, that of desahucios or evictions. Although many banks have been criticised for their draconian approach to families who cannot afford to pay the mortgage, the evictions continue. And it is not only in Greece that the threat of eviction has led desperate individuals to go that final desperate step and take their own lives.

There is money in Alfacar and in Granada. I have visited some truly palatial residences which have taken my breath away; huge edifices with lounges the size of aircraft hangars, sweeping driveways and electronic security, Olympic-sized pools and acres of patio. They seem to belong to a different world and, behind their high rails and dense cypress hedges, they do indeed have an air of being insulated from the grind that is normal daily life for so many.

A stone's throw away in spatial terms from such material security, but a world away in every other sense are the people I see on the streets of Granada everyday, sitting in doorways wrapped up as best they can against the intense winter cold, with a few carrier bags of possessions or a small case, a plastic cup on the pavement in front of them and a plea written on a piece of cardboard that might read something like this:

"I am from Asturias. I have lost my job and my house, and I have two children to feed. Please help me."

While there are undoubtedly organised begging rings at work in the city and it can be difficult to decide who are the real victims of hardship and who, the scammers, there are without any doubt many genuine cases. So, what options are there for those who have lost out in the economic struggle? There is the self employment route - but when you are earning perhaps 700 euros a month and the State astonishingly demands 300 euros in national security from autonomous workers, where is the incentive to venture down this risky road? How can you pay the rent and the bills and buy food and clothes on the ridiculous residue that the State leaves you with?

If trying to earn an honest living is simply not viable there is another route, and that is to earn what one can in the so-called black economy. While I obviously draw a very firm line between the provision of legitimate goods and services and anything totally unacceptable involving theft, drugs and forced prostitution, this is something I neither condone nor condemn because, regardless of the illegalities, earning in this way makes the difference between sink or swim for countless thousands of people on the breadline.

And however the Tax Office might huff and puff about loss of earnings for the Government coffers, there are far greater evils in society than gleaning a dishonest buck or two. For all the endless political one-upmanship and all the jazzy music with which this or that politician is welcomed on stage at the latest party rally to regurgitate the usual tired old sound bites relating to growth and collective responsibility, there are still far too many people for whom survival in the here and now is literally a matter of counting every cent.