My eyes fixed upon a small ivory sculpture in the window. I looked for the gallery owner to ask if I could take a photo of it. He obliged and I asked him about the price. It was far beyond my means and I told him that immediately so as not to waste his time, but he insisted on having me hold it. We entered into a wonderful conversation about African art and looked at a Senufo mask he had just purchased. Within his perfect French, he had a slight accent that was vaguely familiar so I asked where he was from- Romania, he said. He had been living in France for 30 years.
The day before, I spoke with a French woman who told me that France was dealing with huge waves of Eastern European immigrants. "From which countries?" I asked. "First the Romanians, then the Bulgarians, now the Ukrainians and the Georgians." she said.
"Je ne sais plus ou on va dans ce pays si ca continue comme ca," is something I heard more than once, on the subject of immigration in France.
Later that morning I walked by a market under a freeway where people, whom I was told were Romanian, gathered around piles of used clothing on the ground. There was a great deal of frenzied activity around those selling the items. I couldn't understand the language. I was only able to take a few pictures before a man threatened to kill me and chased me away. Again, I was told I had no right to take pictures. This time I walked to the policemen stationed on horses nearby, explained what happened and asked if this was true, so I could get it straight, once and for all. "No, you have a right to take pictures here," they said. Still, I didn't dare take more. France is certainly a confusing place.
"Je ne sais plus ou on va dans ce pays si ca continue comme ca," is something I heard more than once, on the subject of immigration in France.
Later that morning I walked by a market under a freeway where people, whom I was told were Romanian, gathered around piles of used clothing on the ground. There was a great deal of frenzied activity around those selling the items. I couldn't understand the language. I was only able to take a few pictures before a man threatened to kill me and chased me away. Again, I was told I had no right to take pictures. This time I walked to the policemen stationed on horses nearby, explained what happened and asked if this was true, so I could get it straight, once and for all. "No, you have a right to take pictures here," they said. Still, I didn't dare take more. France is certainly a confusing place.
