In general, there are two groups of people: those with whom we can simply be, and those with whom we necessarily have to do something. If you don't believe me, take a quick look at your friends and family (or even partners). The people with whom we always have to do something are those with whom—intentionally or not—we make plans, those with whom we always have something to do, making them feel somewhat incomplete. I have nothing against a friend who goes for a run, a friend who goes to the movies, or a parent who finds a shared hobby with their children to spend time together. But allow me to doubt that these are the people who truly know us.

Around twenty residents of Son Bordoy gathered this Monday in front of the Palma City Hall (Cort) to demand "decent housing alternatives" after receiving an eviction order last November. "I've lived here for 28 years, with my children and 11 grandchildren. At the end of November, the Palma Local Police came and told us we had 10 days to leave, but they didn't offer any solution, and the City Hall hasn't spoken to us either. We just want decent housing to live in like human beings," said Ángel Paredes. Paredes explained that 30 years ago he lived in a shack in El Molinar and moved to Son Bordoy because the former mayor of Palma, Joan Fageda, gave them permission to live on land that wasn't zoned for development. But now, the Palma City Council wants to build "nearly 750 homes," according to the Platform of People Affected by Mortgages (PAH), and "none for these people, even though the City Hall knows they're there," they denounced. Similarly, PAH spokesperson Àngela Pons criticized the Palma City Council (Cort), saying that if the residents of Son Bordoy were to occupy the building, "the police would be there in a second." To offer a housing alternative to the residents of Son Bordoy, the PAH proposed that the City Council use part of the 2025 budget surplus to purchase prefabricated houses, but, according to Pons, the Palma City Council "has ignored the proposal." "What kind of City Council do we have, violating all human rights day after day?" the platform asked. "What will these families do?" they continued. "And, with the lack of affordable housing to rent or own, if they are forced to occupy, will they send the police through the anti-employment office? Shameless, isn't it?" they emphasized.

Near the Baleària ferry terminal in the port of Palma, where thousands of tourists disembark in Mallorca each year, white tents with heavy police presence are visible at the entrance. These facilities house only adult male migrants arriving on the island's shore for 24, or sometimes 48, hours before they travel to the Spanish mainland. Minors go directly to Son Tous, and women with children go to Red Cross facilities. "There's no one here; everyone leaves very quickly," says a worker guiding the media through the different areas. Since these facilities opened in November 2015, 472 people have passed through Mallorca; 555 through the port of Ibiza; and 90 through Formentera.

Neither the cancellation of the official program nor the rain deters the brotherhoods, who make their way to Plaza de la Reina accompanied by brass bands to meet up with the other groups from Palma. In fact, a member of the Queerferia brotherhood believes that with the cancellation of the concerts, "Cort has given the festival back to the people." It's cold and rainy, but the spirits of the citizens are unwavering. The shops around Carrer Oms and the Passeig del Born area are selling umbrellas and raincoats to everyone, and tourists, from inside the luxurious hotels in the narrow streets of the city center, wave to the participants with laughter.