Trampolín beach in Ceuta becomes a migrant settlement and center of informal activities

There are no Ceutíes when one enters the Trampolín sandy area. Only members of the National Police and migrants give a clue about what is happening on what until this summer was the busiest beach in the autonomous city of Ceuta. It still is, but in a different way.

While Ceuta's economy is deteriorating by leaps and bounds, the city's Chamber of Commerce estimates direct losses at more than 33 million since 80,000 migrants disembarked irregularly at the end of July and the crisis began, activity is frenetic in the sandy area once occupied by bathers and which this summer hosts all types of activities.

Trampolín beach has become a hive of activity. The "walkers", as the Ceuta people nickname the new arrivals, spend hours walking through the streets while the public services staff tidy up the space they occupy, but sooner or later they return to a territory that seems to belong to them by their own right.

We have built it ourselves but we are afraid that they will come and take it away from us. 85% of the people who have entered are bad

So much so that there are dozens of precarious constructions built on the beach that serve as homes for those who have had the expertise to get one. The autonomous city has tried on several occasions to dismantle the settlement, but the shanties re-emerge on the sand in a matter of hours.

Maruwan and Hassan know this well, as they share their 'house' with a third roommate who snoozes inside the shack that they show 20 minutes during their visit to the Trampoline. "We built it ourselves," say proudly these young people of 30 and 31 years old, a welder and painter in their native Morocco, and who in Ceuta survive with what they receive from the solidarity of NGOs such as the Red Cross, which carries out a daily distribution of food around seven in the afternoon.

But ownership of the flimsy construction is not assured. This mass of sticks, plastics and cardboard where they are barely protected is not guaranteed. "We are afraid that they will take it away from us, there are many people here who drink and take drugs, they are bad people," they summarize, offering a percentage that replicates the data managed by the State security forces and bodies. The National Police estimates that the percentage of migrants who entered to build a better future on the other side of the Moroccan border is around 10%. Newcomers raise it to 15%. But the intentions of the remaining 85%-90% are uncertain in both cases.

Perhaps for this reason, Hassan and his companions stand guard and avoid going further than necessary from the construction that has been their home in Ceuta for almost five weeks. One of those trips is the one they make, up to five times a day, to the 'mosque' that can be seen on the Trampoline sand itself. Devoid of minarets and without an imam to lead the prayer, the migrants have delimited a space with water bottles filled with sand to guarantee its stability. They access it barefoot and face Mecca to comply with one of the five essential precepts of Islam for every good Muslim: that of daily prayer.

Those who do not pray dedicate a good part of their time to leisure activities, among which board games and soccer stand out. It is common to see small groups playing ball or playing a game of cards with the traditional Spanish deck. But most of them burn their time dedicated to the oldest profession in the world: commerce.

Cut and style

Economic activity does not stop in the sandy area. Small dealings mark the daily life of those who occupy it, but also the performance of lifelong jobs. At 22 years old, Abdelakim is not willing to waste time. "I charge three euros for a haircut," he tells this newspaper as he shaves his compatriots one after another in his open-air barbershop. It is difficult to understand why a professional like him leaves everything to undertake a journey with an uncertain ending. "In Morocco you live very badly, you work a lot and earn very little. The salary is not enough to live on or to support the family," summarizes the young man, who does not let go of the scissors that he handles with a firm hand while he talks.

Guaranteeing communications with those they left behind is another vital need for the residents of the Trampoline. So much so that not only a German NGO provides this service, but some migrants have set up improvised beach bars on the beach where they can do the same for a handful of cents. This guarantees those who migrated to maintain contact with their own in a kind of faith of life.

The bustling improvised city is not lacking in those who have opted for restoration. A precarious "café restaurant" run by a young man in his twenties offers food of dubious origin, mostly eggs, cooked in a small pressure cooker that has seen better days but that today fulfills its purpose, now removed from the stove.