“When they ask me where I’m from, they never assume I’m from here.” Marcelo López arrived in Barcelona at the age of six, amidst an economic crisis in Ecuador. Now 35, a practicing lawyer, he feels a part of the city. “My life has unfolded here, and I consider myself a Barcelonian,” he explains, recalling his childhood in Gràcia. Yet, the question of his origin persists: “Most of the time, they don’t consider you from here,” he summarizes.
The New Face of Barcelona’s Youth: A Demographic Shift
Marcelo’s profile is no longer an anomaly in Barcelona. In fact, the new normal for Barcelona’s youth is to have been born abroad: for the first time, this demographic now constitutes 50% of the city’s 12 to 35-year-olds. This profound demographic shift presents intangible challenges, particularly concerning identity, integration into the city, and societal perception. Five residents, with diverse life experiences – from Ecuador, Mexico, Bulgaria, Uruguay, and Guinea – share their stories with EL PERIÓDICO, exploring what it means to “be from here” in contemporary Barcelona.
Their narratives reveal common threads: integration is possible but not immediate; the label of “foreigner” carries different weight for each individual; and language – especially Catalan – sometimes acts as a gateway, and at other times, an invisible barrier.
Marcelo and Fabián: Finding Belonging in Different Ways
For Marcelo, belonging was forged in shared experiences: school, the local square, and the families of Gràcia. “My friends were from here, their parents looked after me. I’ve always felt welcomed.” Both he and his family maintain a strong connection to the neighborhood. “It was a pleasure to go shopping at the market on Saturdays, where we had very good friends,” he reminisces. Marcelo López highlights the Gràcia festivals during his adolescence as moments when he felt most connected.
Fabián Enmanuel Macías’s experience, however, is different. He arrived in the city as an adult four years ago from Jalisco, Mexico. Trained in sports physical preparation, he currently works as a hotel receptionist. “From Mexico and proud,” he responds when asked about his origins. His perception of Barcelona is rooted in its contrast with his hometown. “Here I can go out in the early hours and have never felt unsafe,” he explains. In Jalisco, he adds, violence is commonplace. Fabián Macías built roots through the network of friends he found in Barcelona. “I integrated very quickly,” he summarizes.
According to the municipal report ‘Retrats i tendències de la joventut 2025’ (Portraits and Trends of Youth 2025), the mix of origins is notably reflected in language use. The use of Catalan among young people is ten percentage points below the general population. In contrast, Spanish is the predominant language, and the influence of other languages is growing. Marcelo works in Catalan, though outside of work, he uses Spanish. “I feel comfortable using it because it’s the language I grew up with,” referring to Catalan. Fabián uses it “at work, with some clients,” but admits it’s not common in his daily life. “It wasn’t essential in my life,” he concedes, though he is willing to learn it better.
Hassimiou Bangoura: The Weight of Being Remembered as a Foreigner
Hassimiou Bangoura arrived in Barcelona as a teenager, at 16. Today, he is 24 and works in his field: he is a community mental health agent at a civic center in Trinitat Nova. His friends simply call him ‘Bangu’. He left Guinea with the intention of continuing his studies outside of Africa. His visa application was denied multiple times. Finally, he managed to enter Spain by boat, spent two months in the south, and headed to Barcelona “by intuition.” “Since I arrived, my life has unfolded in this city,” he explains.
His integration was not immediate. “When you arrive in a new country, of course you are a foreigner. But what hurts is being constantly reminded of it,” states the young Guinean. He has experienced various episodes of stigmatization, where he noticed strangers suspecting him without reason. On one occasion, he recounts, a woman in a hospital clutched her purse upon seeing him, and he went to speak with her to make her understand that he would never steal, no matter how desperate he might be. “I prefer my dignity,” he emphasizes.
He learned Catalan immediately upon arrival, considering it essential to connect with the city. Today, he speaks it naturally and uses it whenever he feels comfortable, though he primarily uses Spanish. “I don’t want them to like me more for speaking Catalan; I want to feel appreciated for who I am.” Still, he acknowledges that others’ perception changes when he uses the local language: “You see that look of ‘you truly are from here’.”
In his free time, he coaches football, is a member of the Castellers del Poble-sec, and hosts a podcast about Africa. He feels like a true Barcelonian. “After eight years, yes. Although sometimes they remind you that you’re not from here,” he details. His nationality has not been a barrier to finding work, thanks to the people around him who have always helped him work in the Third Sector. He knows cases where origin has been a burden and doesn’t rule out that he might also be unemployed one day. However, his documented status has conditioned him: “My first contract, I had to sign it no matter what, if I wanted to renew my papers.” Now, with more stability, he says he has more choices. For him, ‘being from here’ means integrating, adapting, and feeling at ease. “If you feel you’re from here, you are from here. Society shouldn’t need to corroborate it.” If he had to send a message to someone who thinks it’s complicated, he would say that “your life is what you want to build here” and that “not everything is problems,” he concludes.
Magdalena Cetrulo: Building a Tribe in Barcelona
Magdalena Cetrulo arrived in the Catalan capital from Uruguay in 2019 with experience as an architect. She landed with the idea of professional growth. She never stopped feeling like a foreigner, though it wasn’t dramatic for her. “I tried to adapt in small details. Saying ‘falda’ instead of ‘pollera’ (both meaning skirt),” she explains. During her initial contact with the city, she constantly perceived differences in the way people spoke, moved, or fit into local codes. “At first, I lived as if on loan,” she admits. For years, she immersed herself in the city, making plans every weekend and constantly meeting new people, at a non-stop pace. “I wasn’t putting down roots; I was living the experience to the fullest,” she now reflects. She felt integrated when she stopped perceiving that she was occupying a place that wasn’t entirely her own.
Barcelona ceased to be a place to discover and began to become routine. “‘Being from here’ means moving like a fish in water,” she emphasizes. Not needing mobile help to navigate, having her favorite bakery, her gym, her people. “What makes me feel part of Barcelona is my tribe,” she summarizes, referring to former colleagues, master’s friends, and other acquaintances who became family to her. Today, she can say she is integrated. “Yes, we can say so,” she responds with a laugh. She interacts with neighbors and feels more Barcelonian than she thought: “Before, everything was new. Now it’s part of me.”
Vivian Rumenova: The Power of Language
Vivian Rumenova, 25, was born in Bulgaria, arrived in Catalonia in 2008 with her family, and settled in Mollerussa (Lleida). Ten years later, she moved to Barcelona to study and stayed for seven years. She has just returned to Lleida, having found work as a lawyer there. The Catalan capital is too “big” for her, she says, though it never made her feel like a foreigner: “I’ve felt more from Barcelona than from anywhere else,” she notes. The diversity of origins in the Catalan capital, for her, worked in her favor: “There are so many nationalities that you integrate without realizing it.”
When asked about her origins, she responds without equivocation: “From Bulgaria.” It doesn’t bother her, though she does perceive prejudices. “If you’re from Eastern European countries, they put you in the same basket,” she says, referring to the difference between being from Barcelona and from Bulgaria at a young age. She notices it in everyday details: having a NIE instead of a DNI complicates certain procedures, she has to repeat her name several times, and sometimes she perceives suspicion about certain European nationalities.
Her schooling was in Catalan, and she now masters it perfectly. She recalls having to learn it in six months to understand what her schoolmates were saying. In her case, language was a tool for integration. “When you speak Catalan, the attitude changes,” she admits. She illustrates this with an anecdote about helping an elderly woman on public transport who reacted very positively upon hearing the young woman speak Catalan: “They look at you as more approachable.”
The stories of Marcelo, Fabián, Hassimiou, Magdalena, and Vivian paint a vivid picture of Barcelona’s evolving identity. As the city embraces its increasingly diverse youth, the definition of “being from here” expands, shaped by individual journeys, the challenges of integration, and the profound impact of language and community.
Source: elperiodico.com.cat
