Title: La Churrera
Artist: Jennifer Custodio (Displaced)
Date: Sunday 1 March
Time: 19:00 h
Place: Second floor
The homemade churros in the kitchen cabinet would be a good relief; I feel like trying them, although it would be a mistake. It’s 6:10 p.m. and I’m carrying the churro in my backpack wrapped in albal paper. I want to eat it, but I can’t.
Since I arrived in Galicia, I have realized that there are many churros, that there are many churrerías, and that they eat many churros. People only think about going to have some churros. That day we were in the car, and I had to stop because there were some churros on the side of the road. Definitely, Galicians are obsessed with churros. I had to buy a dozen greasy churros in order to film them and make a Polaroid. I sense that the boss was named Maria, because on the filthy, sun-kissed tarp it said “Churreria Maria”; or maybe she preferred to be called Mary as it proclaimed her gold pendant. The hierarchy was clear, Mary on the left and her employee on the right. They didn’t like me very much, but I already had the Churrera from A Escravitude portrayed.
I never ate those churros; I gave them away, as I will give you this tray of churros.
I can’t eat them, so I thought that everybody likes to eat churros.