Paris
Tuesday, August 22
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31 quai Voltaire – in the only block where we had to walk along the
street as we meandered along the left bank on a Sunday, crossing from the
west side of Paris to the east. The
roads along the
Tents that were distributed by the Doctors of the World still do exist
along the left bank of the
Flowers in the lovely Square Tino Rossi, a park in the 5th
arrondissment on the
View from the left bank of the
View from the left bank of the sadly empty department store, La
Samaritaine. Notice the threatening
sky! |
Once again, no
good deed shall go unpunished. The 200
squatters in the gymnasium at Cachan (see the entry for August 20) are still
in the gymnasium because the prefect has not found suitable lodgings for them
yet. The socialist mayor of Cachan had
expected lodgings to have been found by now, and he is really irritated that
the prefect hasn’t accomplished this yet.
Conditions in the gym are not good because it is way too small for 200
people. By being so kind-hearted and
offering the gymnasium, it seems the mayor of Cachan has allowed the prefect
to drag his feet. A solution must be
found, and soon. The mayor of Cachan
has asked the squatters to leave within two days. The prefect
still wants to put the people up in hotels.
One problem with this plan is that, for example, one of the hotels is
out by the airport at Orly, and the only store nearby is one in the airport
that only sells sandwiches at 10 euros each.
As one mother explained it, “We would starve there!” So, the only positive step that the prefect
has made in the past couple days is that now he is offering to have meals
delivered to the families who are put up in the hotels. The non-profit associations that are supposedly
“helping” the squatters are still pushing for proper lodgings for all, which
means NOT hotels and NOT boarding houses.
These are poor, working families, after all, who cannot afford to eat
in restaurants and who have children who must be able to eat properly. Kitchens are necessary. The tents distributed by the Doctors of the World
to the homeless in On Sunday, we
walked along the left bank all the way to the Jardin des Plantes and the Gare
d’Austerlitz. We timed our walk
perfectly, because we stopped for refreshments around 5:30PM at one of those
cafés located on a boat on the river, right next to Notre Dame. The skies darkened and a real downpour
started. We were safe under the canvas
roof of the floating café, but the servers had to hustle to adjust all the
awnings so that the customers seated along the edges would not get soaked. We went on
after the storm, and thoroughly enjoyed the Jardin des Plantes, even though
it was at the end of a very, very long walk.
We took the métro back home. But from behind
me I could hear a loud voice, a mendicant telling his tale of woe. He spoke very clearly, in what sounded like
very good, educated French. Beginning
by apologizing for disturbing us all, he addressed those of us in the subway
car as “messieurs et mesdames, et mon seigneur.” Who was he calling “my lord,” I wondered? I looked around the car and decided that he
had to be addressing Tom as “my lord,” because Tom was the only person of the
right gender and age for that title.
Tom realized the same thing, at the same time. It was then that he decided he was indeed
going to give this mendicant some money. The mendicant
had had an operation on his head, he said, and was unable since then to find
work that he could do. Since his
operation, he lost his lodging and is now living on the streets of That evening,
we had Indian food for the first time this summer at Banani,
on the rue de la Croix Nivert, in our neighborhood. The service was as nice as it can be, and
the food was good. My longing for
Korma has been fulfilled. Last night J
and M escaped the luxurious Hotel Meurice by taxi and joined us for drinks at
the apartment. Then we went to Le Tipaza for a nice North African meal in elegant
surroundings. Today we are
working, and doing laundry. How
dull. But tomorrow we will assemble
six of us |
