The infamous El Raval quarter, with its narrow lanes full of dark figures, lies in the middle of Barcelona, in the Old Town, near the water. Where earlier, sailors shared the cheap little flats with working families, migrants from all over the world now characterize the area. In the small alleys their little barbershops lie side by side. Each nationality has its own. The businesses cater for parallel societies and have little contact with one another. Whoever enters apparently leaves Spain behind to plunge into a safe place of familiar rituals and memories of home. The barbers live from their regular customers and their almost pastoral ability to constantly talk about everything and nothing, or remain silent, whilst they softly touch and courageously beautify the heads and cheeks of the weary and burdened.