Do you believe in insurgent dwarfs? In the case of Honatx: It’s a hot summer day on a Basque train on the coast of Gipuzkoa. It comes as a surprise that the Civil Guard is about to take the train out of the platform and they are there asking for their ID to those who have sympathized with the cars back and forth. After the first quick and abrupt movements, they are unable to get off the train and become trapped like the rest of the passengers, waiting for the next stop to bring them. The atmosphere has been thoroughly disturbed and the sudden inactivity has created an uncomfortable tension in the wagon.

But on the platform of the next station, there are people in Zientoka who are on their way home from the beach waiting to catch the train. With the opening of the train doors, passengers have entered the interior with their aromatic beach gadgets, towels, swimsuits, playero looks and sun creams. Many are young, they are in full adolescence, with hormones in their mouths.

The Tricornians have barely moved, they have been besieged, they have been surrounded; the Tricornium, the gun at the waist, nobody wants to get too close to them, but it is not an easy task in the train wagon where the beach is full to the neck for a day.

The train leaves in the summer’s hot sun, with its usual suffocating trick, with unexpected passengers trapped inside. If it weren't for the gun they're holding in their belts, I'm sure these teenagers and pre-teenagers don't have any special concerns from the civil guards, but the penetrating smell that comes from the brown skin of the boy next door.

The police are not here, relax. They don't know what face to put on, so they endure the rough movements of the train. As if the rest of the passengers were expecting them to do something themselves, a civil guard looks at the 50-year-old man. His hair and beard are bluish, he’s wearing a T-shirt and shorts, he’s reading the travel book with his back against the car door.

The Civil Guard, unable to approach him, asks him for his ID card in some way. As if time had stopped, the whole car was silent, except for the train. The man makes the gesture as if he were desperate or expecting nothing else, holding the book with one hand, with the other extending the ID to the civil guard. With all eyes on these movements, this crowd seems to have to start the BUUUUUUka to the civil guard. It has not happened, but everyone, including the civil guards, has felt instantaneously that it is possible. Because we believe in insurgent dwarfs.