The humble Girona neighborhood with subsidized housing, green spaces, and a packed church awaits the new Trueta Hospital.
Can Gibert del Pla, with 79 different cultures, goes against the grain: it fills masses and street activities


Can Gibert del Pla (Girona)Can Gibert del Pla is a humble neighborhood in Girona with residents from 79 different cultures that is evolving positively against the current: it has plenty of subsidized housing, green spaces, public facilities, a dynamic neighborhood association, and a church that fills to overflowing thanks to the granite-like faith of the Latin American community. Now, it will also be close to and shared with Salt by the Health Campus, which includes the new Josep Trueta Hospital and the Faculties of Medicine and Nursing. The residents of this neighborhood, tucked between the River Güell and Passeig de Olot, believe that this new space for health, teaching, and research will give the area a new centrality, although they don't want the facility's urban counterpart to engulf Jordi Vilamitjana Park, a large green lung that connects them to Salt.
From the shack to the apartment
Cristóbal Tarifa, president of the tireless Can Gibert del Pla Residents' Association, arrived from Granada at the age of 9 and has prospered since his family eked out a living in one of the shanties of Montjuïc Castle, now one of Girona's wealthiest neighborhoods. Montjuïc once housed more than 2,000 shantytown dwellers in the squalid self-built homes perched on the castle walls. "We had to carry water from downstairs; we lived in total poverty. We were immigrants from Granada, Murcia, or Extremadura, from towns like Usagre or La Granja," Tarifa recalls. When they were expelled from Montjuïc to start a wealthy residential development, they lived in the so-called Provisional Shelters (with asbestos-cement roofs) until, in 1969, they were able to buy an apartment in Can Gibert del Pla. It's a story similar to that of many of the neighborhood's first inhabitants, who also came from the Torre Gironella shanties or arrived from the poorest Spanish provinces.
"I've prospered. I've had opportunities to leave, but I won't. We're fine here; there's a community spirit, and we don't have any major conflicts," admits the president of the neighborhood association for four years and a board member for 20. The driving force of the association, perhaps the most active, perhaps the most active among young people. Aside from the traditional events, they throw a party every season. This weekend they celebrated the neighborhood association's 50th anniversary with musical performances and a photo exhibition by Carlos Palacio (which illustrate part of this report), co-organized with the Güell Community. However, the association's list of grievances with the city council includes the maintenance of public courtyards, better tree pruning, garbage management (which extends to much of the city), and the preservation of Jordi Vilamitjana Park.
The Known Drug Addresses
They also demand decisive action against drug trafficking. Tarifa, like many other residents, mentions the specific numbers on Güell and Puigneulós streets, where drug dealing has been going on for far too long. "We all know them, but it seems there's nothing we can do," Tarifa laments.
The neighborhood's 8,500 residents also enjoy numerous green areas and tree-lined avenues, as well as many public facilities: schools, primary school, swimming pool, pavilion, soccer field, and the church of Santa Eugenia de Ter, which, unlike other places of worship, hasn't lost its depth. Those who keep the faith alive are the Latin American community (Hondurans and Dominicans, especially), the largest in the neighborhood, and to whom the neighborhood association attributes excessive closure. "They have their clan and their parties. We often collaborate with them, but we ask for reciprocity. We believe that little by little they will open up, especially the young people," Tarifa argues.
Masses in Catalan and Spanish
On Sunday at 10 a.m., the chants from the church of Santa Eugenia de Ter can be heard from the street. The church is packed to the rafters. The other church is emptier and they are elderly. The priest explains that the Latin American community "has a community spirit, but among themselves. They struggle to integrate and make the effort to understand and speak Catalan." However, he believes they will eventually do so. "The future belongs to their children, who won't have the separation from their language that we will have."
Regarding the possibility of holding bilingual Masses, Camprubí explains: "At Easter or Christmas, we have a single celebration. We try to respect their customs, and they understand, but the truth is, it's difficult for them. Those who don't understand go to the Sagrat Cor in Girona, where everything is done in Spanish." The parish priest believes they must work with patience and humility. "We shouldn't dream of the glories of the past, when the Church was hegemonic, but rather work in the present from the bottom up." They have three locations that offer after-school support. "We have 17 educators, and in the afternoons we welcome about 120 kids. We do what their parents can't: we give them snacks, help them with their homework, and they participate in sports activities. Youth is the DNA of the Salesians," explains the parish priest. The church of Santa Eugenia de Ter, with four priests, also has a good relationship with the Evangelicals, to whom they offer a space to leave their children while they attend Mass, but not with the Muslims, who constitute the third religious community.
Pure-blooded Catalans in hiding
Concepció Triola, a resident of the neighborhood for 52 years, warns that the pure-blooded Catalans have been somewhat "hidden" with the waves of migration that the neighborhood has received. "It's a very beautiful neighborhood, with a neighborhood association that never stops, and I only hope that the new Trueta will serve to increase vigilance and control." Triola waits in front of the church because the neighborhood choir is participating in the Catalan session of the mass. Today is a special day, and perhaps those attending the Catalan mass will approach the number of Latin American faithful who are now filling up the first session. The priest who officiated the first mass shakes their hands one by one as they leave as they receive the Sunday newsletter and a holy card of the Virgin. Many of them show him a complicity that should be the basis for future integration.
Josep Carrillo, a member of the Quart choir, also returned to his old neighborhood today. He moved here at 17 when his father, a civil servant, bought one of the apartments promoted by the Patronato de la Santa Cruz de la Selva, a religious foundation that has been promoting social housing in the area since the 1960s. He explains that the affordable payment options for these apartments, which are the origin of the neighborhood, allowed many working-class families to own their first home.
Religion unites them
Cándida Rosa Martínez, a Honduran spokesperson for a group called the Rosary, acknowledges as she leaves church that "religion is what unites us." She asserts that her group is open to everyone, but also admits that they struggle to connect with other communities in the neighborhood. She has lived in Can Gibert del Pla for years, but doesn't speak Catalan. She is happy with the "dedicated" priests and the work and activities they do with young people. "The Church helps a lot. Anyone in need asks for it, and things are found for them. We also help our Rosary group: from a mattress to a place to sleep or a possible job." Jessi Madariaga, also a member of the Rosary group, explains: "I experience Mass more in Spanish." She acknowledges that she doesn't feel the need to speak Catalan because it's not the language of the street, but notes that there are "Catalan women" both at the Latin American Masses and in the Rosary group.
Controversy over a park
The residents are in favor of the new Trueta Hospital project, but they want to avoid at all costs that it be at the expense of the Jordi Vilamitjana park, an extension of more than 25,000 square meters of green area with many shade trees, a skate park, a children's play area, and a dog park. "We want the Health City, but we don't want them to take over the park to build apartments. We don't think it's fair that they're expropriating the park to give it in return to the owners of the land where the hospital is located, so they can build apartments in our green space," says Cristóbal Tarifa. They're also not convinced by the green space the city council is offering them in exchange. "It's a flood zone, and the trees would take 20 or 30 years to provide shade," he concludes.