Year 1994. In Son Espanyolet, a residential neighborhood of Palma characterized by low-rise buildings and corrals, life revolves around a couple of nerve centers. There is a parish center, owned by the Theatines, which hosts everything from the Español basketball club to the now-defunct Nostra Terra theater company. On a corner, on Contestí street, a haberdashery is much more than a shop: it is a meeting point, where many people who learn to sew and crochet spend their afternoons.

A lemon tree stands guard in the courtyard of Jaume Gelabert's family home. After his parents died, he bought half of it from his brother and renovated it to return to where he was happy, in the Palma neighborhood of Son Espanyolet. Sitting in front of the tree, he recalls how, during his childhood, neighbors would come to pick lemons, the doors were always open, and "everything was shared." Today, something of that neighborhood life survives in a tall staircase that, through the walls, the owners pass around when they need it. "Why buy more if we have one? Why should everyone have everything?" he argues, advocating for a way of life based on human connection. However, the neighborhood's tranquility was shattered when, starting in 2018, Norwegian businessman Erik Oren bought a dozen houses in the area to transform them into tourist rentals with a capacity for more than 150 people. At that point, two models clashed: that of a community that understands housing as a space for living and belonging; and that of tourism-real estate investment, which sees it as an asset to maximize its profits.