In Paris, where – thankfully - everything is peaceful and calm and normal (we were served beer last night by a reassuringly grumpy barman and are ordering coffee now from a reassuringly grumpy waiter), but where all the flags are at half mast and Place de la Republique is fast becoming a shrine. I’ll be glad to have the luxury of leaving the last few days behind as we head for the mountains, I must admit. But I was very aware yesterday morning that I walked past the Finsbury Park mosque to go to an Ethiopian beautician, before picking up a bagel from the Jewish bakery next door and then being driven to Kings Cross by a lovely Bangladeshi driver (who, in London tones, described the terrorists as ‘crazy, innit? and yes, he did actually say innit), and was more than usually appreciative of my lovely mixed up neighbourhood. And more aware than usual of noticing that our merry gang of skiiers are British, Greek, Irish, German, Pakistani, Iranian, Japanese, male, female, gay, straight, tall, short, fat, thin, funny, interesting, tired, excited, fun and maybe slightly hungover. I wish I could stay in Paris a night more to join the demonstration, to add my voice to those who say down with those who destroy our precious patchwork multicultural lives which such events suddenly make fragile, be they terrorists or far right militants. Down with those who see race and culture and religion before seeing people. Down with those who would seek to impose their views at the point of a gun, whatever those views be, and with those who would take away *anyones* right to speak and who do not see that this also removes their own. Up with those who stand for unity, and the celebration of difference, and with those brave enough to bring us voices from the margins, which we should collectively hear more clearly because for me, this isnt about overlooking differences of opinions, its about having a society in which everyone can be heard and which is strong enough to contain diversity and dissent. I’ve learned a lot over the last few days, mostly here on Facebook, and heard voices and perspectives I would otherwise have missed. Its a small silver lining. It hasn’t always been comfortable for a nice white middleclass British girl like me, but I’m grateful. I hope also that Parisians and les Francoise of all shapes and colours and backgrounds turn out tonight to tell the world they are one, but not the same. I’m also tired, and tired of being sad. Here’s to hottubs and cheese and chalets and la vie en mountaigne! I’m off. See you in a week.
Posted on: Sun, 11 Jan 2015 07:32:52 +0000
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