From grandma's house to the Nordic attic: the grief of Son Espanyolet

PalmaYear 1994. In Son Espanyolet, a residential neighborhood of Palma characterized by its ground floors and corrals, life revolves around a couple of nerve centers. There is a parish center, owned by the Theatines, which hosts everything from the Espanyol basketball club to the now-defunct Nostra Terra theater company. On one 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.

The owner, Francisca Niell, mother of seven children, became a godmother that year. Maya, the granddaughter, describes the figure of her grandmother and, above all, the human landscape and relationships that Francisca had woven at all levels. “Everything happened at my grandmother's and at the haberdashery. People met there, we talked, we told each other about our lives. I remember how my brother, my cousins, and I used to spend hours in the small corral. You could hear the larks and other birds, we played, it was our base, our refuge,” recalls Maya Valencia.

Ca Sa Padrina: Letter to my Grandmother’s House, Maya Valencia has turned rage and frustration into a project,Ca Sa Padrina:Letter to my Grandmother’s House, a visual creation that she presented at the Cortona festival (Italy), where she won an award. “It has meant receiving artistic support to evolve it”, she comments. The exhibition has also had the support of the Institut d’Estudis Baleàrics (IEB) and currently consists of a journey through the moments of Maya's grandmother's life and the elements that are gradually disappearing from a neighborhood like Son Espanyolet, where many traditional ground floors still survive. “I suppose I needed to process the loss of what had been the pillar of my childhood and adolescence, and I have tried to portray the feelings of belonging, love, and connection with a space, a neighborhood, a family, and a people”, the artist recounts.

For about 15 years, the neighborhood of Son Espanyolet has undergone a progressive change, as a result of the enormous interest from Nordic people. Known by some geographers as the “oil stain” of gentrification, which comes from Santa Catalina, Son Espanyolet finds ground floors with courtyards that are gradually being sold and transformed into townhouses. “The first thing they did in our case was to remove the trees. The lemon tree, the orange tree... I saw how the birds were disoriented. There was a small ecosystem, connecting all the courtyards, and this model destroys it, no matter how much they talk about sustainable projects afterwards. It is a rupture, a break with our essence, and the pity is that we don't know how to prevent it”, Maya laments.

Neighbors meeting

A few days ago, this young woman gathered some neighbors from Son Espanyolet to discuss the gentrification process and the expulsion of traditional life from this area of Palma, a fact that, she assures, "is not exclusive, far from it, to this neighborhood." It was an emotional gathering, and the participants expressed their desire to fight "not to sell." "Not to give up. Not to yield to the absurd amount of money they offer you. But not everyone can. My family had seven siblings and they saw no way out. But my heart cries because we couldn't save grandmother's house," she states.

Maya Valencia hopes her project will serve to "make society reflect, because the situation we are suffering is everyone's responsibility, some more than others." "I live in Barcelona, where I have a job, but one day I would like to return to Mallorca. And from here, from Barcelona, I see with great sadness how I will not be able to return, at least if I want to have a home. We are not aware of the impact this has on society," she emphasizes.

Maya believes that young people today are the most affected by housing becoming a financial asset, a speculative space "where millions are moved and enormous margins are generated." "But from all this, what is left for us young people, for those of us who have always seen a neighborhood, a space for coexistence, houses where we used to gather? Nothing is left. Only memories, nostalgia, and enormous frustration at seeing that we have no future. There is a model of large capital that has screwed us over and taken our space. It's hard to accept," she says.

One of the obsessions of the youngest is to know what will happen to their future with housing prices. The sons and daughters of Son Espanyolet "in general cannot even dream of owning property there, neither bought nor rented." "A barrier has been raised, with prices that are intended for other people. It's not that we can't buy in Son Espanyolet, it's that we will never be able to buy in Mallorca. We didn't imagine this a few years ago, but now my generation has thrown in the towel," she continues.

"We must react to it"

Since the project Ca Sa Padrina:Letter to my Grandmother’s House was launched, Maya has received countless messages and comments, especially from people who agree with her analysis and who feel “stirred, challenged,” points out the author. “It’s a kind of collective mourning and also a catharsis. People who come to the visits we’ve done around the neighborhood get emotional, we encourage each other, and, in a way, we raise a bit of a cry.” “We have to react to it,” assures Maya. “We are not alone, thousands of people want to put an end to this model. It’s complex, there are many causes, but we cannot stand still,” she concludes.