Yoga, DIY & Participant – Observation

^{Source: twitter.com/yogapatio}

When I met people from El Patio Maravillas initially and explained to them that I wanted to better understand the impact of El Patio in Madrid, their main advice to me was to go to La Ingobernable and join a collective. I thought it was a bit tangential but would be a good way to meet people and therefore build a network for interviews. I did not really consider that the process of joining a collective could teach me a lot about the nature of participation and collective action in occupied spaces, and it would irreparably blur the line between participant and observer – researcher.

A couple of people I was put in contact with from El Patio were enthusiastic members of the collective Yoga Patio, which now uses La Ingobernable. As I have done yoga on and off (I do not have ‘yogi’ status yet!) for a number of years, it seemed like the obvious choice for me to join. The collective provides free, open yoga sessions to whoever turns up, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings throughout the year. During the summer, the sessions on Monday and Friday are held in Retiro park and Wednesday sessions are held in La Ingobernable.

My first session felt alien in comparison to the professional yoga classes I have taken in London and New York. Firstly, the space. As you might imagine with an illegal occupation the room is a little dirty and dishevelled, but it does boast a fantastic view of Caixa Forum. La Ingobernable and Caixa Forum represent opposite poles of cultural expression in Madrid and their juxtaposition is stark. Caixa Forum: contemporary art gallery, award winning architecture, tourist magnet and financed by the cultural foundation of one of the largest banks in Spain. La Ingobernable: illegally occupied, self-managed and with clear anti-establishment, political motives (see earlier post ‘‘Right to the City’’ in Action’ for information regarding why the building has been squatted).  The yoga itself is a little different from your standard class: each member of the core collective take it in turns to do a section of the class, depending on how much or little they want to contribute and who is there on the night. I was pleasantly surprised by this approach because in paid for yoga classes the teacher is solely responsible for the atmosphere of the class. I have experienced many a tyrannical yoga class, where you feel bad if you cannot do a headstand or do not know what a half moon is.  The collective endeavour of Yoga Patio’s teaching perfectly fits the setting and their values. Changing teachers makes the class run slower than normal, but creates a space for different voices, styles and rhythms. It feels more open and inclusive. As to be expected with anything free, many of the people who go to Yoga Patio use it as a ‘first try’ at yoga – but all are accommodated and occasionally the teachers assist.

At the beginning of each class someone from the collective explains to new students (regardless of whether the class is in Retiro or La Ingobernable), that it is important to participate in the collective’s shifts at La Ingobernable in return for the yoga. I signed up to a shift ‘cleaning’ some of the rooms in La Ingobernable. In fact when I got there, it was not cleaning but all hands on deck DIY. We were chipping paint off the walls in one of the school rooms, which has plans to be their new yoga studio. It was 7pm and over 86 degrees fahrenheit outside. The two hours passed remarkably quickly, despite ending up covered in dirt and dust. As I was chipping paint of the walls I had quite a bit of time to reflect on the collective nature of La Ingobernable. On the face of it, the yoga in exchange for time model appears open and democratic: services for services, no money required. However, I am aware that as a student and with a vested interest in learning more about the space, I have both time and motivation. But would a working person really want to give up a whole evening doing DIY? If they could afford to pay for a yoga class, would this exchange be attractive? And if someone could not afford yoga ordinarily, would they be able to afford the time spent doing DIY? And would someone be prepared to partake in this DIY, if they did not support the political goals of the occupation itself? Probably not. Therefore, is it really as open a practice as intended? Another question is the longevity of the space. Those in Yoga Patio are putting a lot of energy into creating a space which is for future use. There is no sense from the collective that this occupation is only very temporary. Yet when I talk to other people in La Ingobernable their attitudes to the space seem to fall on a spectrum of very short to medium term. The fragility of their position is heightened now that the mayoress of Madrid has come out against the occupation. In some people’s minds, the occupation has already achieved something by highlighting the undemocratic processes within the city council. However, those spending hours doing DIY on the building probably do not share the same view.

^{DIY with Yoga Patio}

You may be reading this thinking that it seems obvious that spending a lot of time somewhere will alter one’s understanding of the space and relationships within it. But it complicates matters. Where are the lines drawn between participant, observer and researcher? From spending time at La Ingobernable, I do not think it is possible to draw them clearly. For example, most of the regular members of the collective know I am a student and researcher, but it is not possible to announce my presence before every class, and nor would that be appropriate. So should I switch off the observer – researcher parts of my brain, if for example something occurred of interest during the class, or if I noticed something new about the space? Would that even be possible? I have spent some time going over Amy Starecheski’s essay ‘Squatting History: The Power of Oral History as a History-Making Practice’.[1] Originally I read it back in New York during the semester and we discussed in class the nuances behind her writing as she states that she participated in all of the case studies mentioned in the essay, including living in a squat in the 1990s. However she writes, ‘I have been involved more as a researcher than as an activist.’ I remember our class discussion which largely critiqued this idea that she could place herself in one camp more than the other so definitively. Now that I am experiencing similar situations as Starecheski, I feel like I understand more her point of view. Conducting ethnographic research with groups whose work is either illegal or on the fringes of legality is really difficult if you do not ‘live it’. Ultimately it is very hard to gain enough trust to build insights any other way. Therefore, if lines are blurred as participant – observer – researcher it makes sense that Starecheski, as a researcher or as an activist would want to define for herself where exactly she stands, in full understanding that any position is highly nuanced. Starecheski refers to squatters as ‘deeply secretive’ whilst also being a ‘community of documentarians’. This differs from what I have witnessed with El Patio and La Ingobernable. They are relatively open to the extent that you can come along and participate and people will probably talk to you for a bit about the organizations and the space. This openness may also stem from the fact that their squatting is highly political but not driven by need for housing, so no one’s accommodation is in danger if an eviction took place. However, gaining trust and deep, tangible insights is very hard. Also, there seems to be relatively low interest in documenting or archiving themselves. This may be a symptom of advances in technology, for example, El Patio can send one tweet and receive hundreds of photos from members – so why bother collecting internally when so much held online or at the request of a tweet? In comparison with squatting in 1990s, it is very easy to compile data at a later date.

For now, I will keep going to yoga and helping out with shifts in the cafeteria and DIY. Not necessarily comfortable in the role of participant – observer – researcher, but with a realisation that I do not think research could happen with these groups any other way.

 

References:

[1] Amy Starecheski, ‘Squatting History: The Power of Oral History as a History-Making Practice’, The Oral History Review, 2014, Vol. 41, No. 2, pp. 187 – 216.