What defines the identity of a city, of its people? The thousand and one customs that one does without knowing why, but does with an entire community, a particular we.
In Malaga we are street-dwellers. We tend to meet outside, in the squares, parks and streets. The sun helps, or even more, acts as a condition of possibility for a life that sleeps sedentary but lives nomadic.
Secrete ingredient of local culture
Nowadays, in a reality that compared to the post-war period – European but above all Spanish – can only be called one of abundance, resisting the forces of consumerist hoarding is almost impossible. They resist, however, like living vestiges, places like the food kiosks that seem to especially well embody the Malagan and Andalusian spirit of living the street as an end in itself.
Without marketing to make them visible, the kiosks with their corn puffs and sunflower seeds are practically nonexistent to the visitor. Whoever is well-informed knows the espetos, the churros and the sweet wine, but practically none understands the reason for so many sunflower seed shells when passing the processions or when finishing the football in the stands.
Omnipresent sight
The what, how and when of the spirit of a territory can be, as the Little Prince would say: invisible to the eyes. That they are the seeds, how they are eaten like little parrots while nervously watching the football or killing time, sitting on an esparto grass chair, waiting for the afternoon to fall and their saints to pass by, all that must be said so that it can be seen.
The kiosks, conversely to Carrefour Express, instead of opening, close more and more. From here, a supremely humble plea for these places and customs to survive that make a place be a city with its own spirit. Long live the kiosks, the seeds and street life. Amen.
