I have lived in Santa Maria de l'Avall for over fifteen years. I have spent a large part of my life here, in these quiet streets; I have known my lifelong neighbors and have felt this place as a home I wouldn't trade for anything.

That is why it is so hard for me to accept that, almost without warning, everything we built—not just our houses, but also our peace, our routine, our coexistence—could be put at risk by a project that no one explained clearly to us, neither in its scope nor in its real consequences.

The project's technical report speaks of one year of work, but in those same pages appear words we all understand: weather interruptions, traffic detours, replacement of damaged services, compromised accesses, excavators, noise, dirt.

Words that, translated into our daily lives, mean years of inconvenience and a neighborhood turned into a permanent construction site.

I am not an engineer, but I am a technician and, above all, a neighbor. And as a neighbor, I know how to read between the lines. And what I read worries me. A lot. Here is my humble opinion:

1. A project without clear financing is the scenario for disaster

I have searched, reread, and asked:

In the 581 pages, there is not a single guarantee of real financing.

  • No credit lines.
  • No guarantees (avales).
  • No contingency funds.
  • No reserves for unforeseen events.

Nothing.

If halfway through the project there is a lack of funds—due to defaults, cost overruns, or technical problems—the work stops.

And when a project like this stops, there is no going back:

  • The streets remain torn up,
  • the trenches remain open,
  • mobility is blocked,
  • life is suspended.

And this is not an exaggeration: it is the most likely scenario when a project of this magnitude is financed solely from the neighbors' pockets.

A project like this is not improvised. And even less so when it is financed with the savings of hundreds of families.

2. A project that can last much, much longer than promised

And even so, they tell us it will only take a year. But on page 12 of the report, it is expressly mentioned:

“Work stoppages due to weather impediments.” (Page 12)

It rains here. It gets windy here. Here, the slopes turn any storm into a torrent. If the work stops every time the weather makes it difficult, how can anyone promise it will be finished in a year? The report acknowledges the interruptions, but the official discourse insists on an impossible deadline.

3. Poorly identified services: electricity, water, gas, fiber... everything at risk

This frightened me especially when I discovered it. On dozens of plans, the same warning appears:

“The data reflected in this plan are for guidance purposes.” (Page 255)

“Guidance purposes”? That means they do not know exactly where the cables and pipes that provide us with electricity, water, gas, internet, and telephone are located. Now let's think about what it means to open more than 400 trenches in all our streets, one per plot.

It's pure statistics: the more trenches, the more breakages.

  • Power cut.
  • Water cut.
  • Gas cut.
  • Fiber cut.

Not because of a major catastrophe, but by simple probability. And the report acknowledges it again:

“Replacements of existing services.” (Page 12)

If they already take for granted that they will have to be replaced... it means they will break.

4. Blocked accesses, torn-up streets, dirt, and continuous works

The same document foresees:

“Provisional traffic detours”
“Accessibility to the plots” (Page 12)

That is to say: the entrance to our houses will be limited, conditioned, or directly blocked during part of the work.

I think of the elderly, those who depend on home help, those who care for small children, those who need the car to go to work. And I think about how your life changes when you can't even leave or enter normally.

5. Deep excavations and hard rock: this is not a minor work

The budget details that the trenches can reach 3.5 meters deep and that excavation takes place on:

“All types of terrain, including hard rock.” (Page 1)

You don't have to be an expert to know what excavating rock means: noise, vibration, slowness, dust that enters through the windows even if they are closed, hammering for hours. Are we really prepared to live with that for months... or even years, right in front of our houses?

Conclusion: Our urbanization deserves something better than a leap into the void

I am not writing this to generate fear. I am writing this because I believe we deserve truth, clarity, and responsible decisions.

I have seen the documentation. I have read every page. And what I see is a disproportionate, risky project deeply disconnected from the real life of those of us who live here.

We cannot allow our urbanization to become an indefinite construction site. We cannot accept that our daily lives are left in the hands of a project that even in its technical report acknowledges risks, doubts, and fragilities.

We are still in time. But only if we speak clearly and act together.

Vet
Santa Maria de l'Avall, November 2025