Pantin

I've been meaning to post about this place since I got here.  I moved to Pantin on September 15th of this year.  It's a suburb right on the northeast corner of Paris, and though it's still not exactly classy, it's definitely a few steps up from the Porte de Clignancourt, where I was living before.  Pantin has the diversity without the dodginess, and there's something I really love about the feel of these neighborhoods. 

On the day that I moved here, while making one of many trips on the tram carrying my life's possessions in suitcases and bags, I wrote this little blurb about the place:

In the bright September sunlight, I realize for the first time that Pantin is something special.  The tram is making its harmless, wide-eyed caterpillar way along the neatly trimmed grassy railway.  The old industrial canal, undoubtedly cleaner now than it used to be, laps along, lined with jogging paths, trees, and endless, ostentatiously modern buildings, some stacked at odd angles like children’s blocks, some tall and resolutely rectangular, either white-washed, copper, plaster, aluminum, brick, or glass, asymmetry inscribed within the symmetry, adorned with the inventiveness of a child.  This building is a hodge-podge façade of squares and rectangles; that one has a grid of interlocking lines like a maze; and that one designed like a little girl’s lunchbox, all yellow and flowery.  

Alongside one stretch of the quiet little tramway, over the fence, the heavier trains thunder by on their crisscrossing network of rails, pounding out of Paris into the suburbs—a highway of industry evolving into a highway of commuters.  Something about the railway wastelands outside of train stations pleases me—especially this one—though I don’t know why.  

Pantin is a very strange but successful species of reinvented factory town.

But of course pictures speak louder than words.  I've selected a few of my favorites, but if you want to see all of  them, they're on my Google+ page here.  

Weird Architecture Exhibit A: The local library

A typical Pantin street (with ubiquitous people on scooters)

Those are actually apartment buildings.

 

Is anyone else thinking of Priscilla Queen of the Desert?

Weird Architecture Exhibit B

The Town Hall

"Have a seat."

"Don't mind if I do...."

Weird Architecture Exhibit C

Tram over the canal

Weird Architecture Exhibit D (and girl writing by the water)

I also live right next to the super-modern Parc de la Villette--but that's just on the other side of the highway, in Paris-proper. 

My wide-eyed caterpillar

And the railway wasteland

I just loved this house.

Weird Architecture Exhibit E

Weird Architecture Exhibit F....

...and here's what it looks like close up.

Don't know who these girls are, but I thought it made a nice picture.

Typical little convenience store

Some old-school Pantin buildings.

You can also see some old-school Pantin here...see the old sign for "Vins - Liqueurs"?

The True Nature of Charlie Hebdo & Terrorism in France

I need to add an amendment to my previous post "What's so special about Charlie Hebdo?"  During the past three days, a conversation has been taking place on my facebook page and some new articles have come to my attention. 

A good friend of mine politely disagreed with some of the points that I made: in particular, he painted a very different portrait of Charlie Hebdo, arguing that, no really, Charlie has spent plenty of time lampooning other religions just as much as Islam, and that they did (and do) some real journalistic work of quality.  

On the same day, I came across this article by French journalist Olivier Tonneau, who lives in the UK: 

"Firstly, a few words on Charlie Hebdo, which was often “analyzed” in the British press on the sole basis, apparently, of a few selected cartoons. It might be worth knowing that the main target of Charlie Hebdo was the Front National and the Le Pen family. Next came crooks of all sorts, including bosses and politicians[...].  Finally, Charlie Hebdo was an opponent of all forms of organized religions, in the old-school anarchist sense: Ni Dieu, ni maître! They ridiculed the pope, orthodox Jews and Muslims in equal measure and with the same biting tone.  [...]  It is only by reading or seeing it out of context that some cartoons appear as racist or islamophobic."

What's so special about Charlie Hebdo?

On Sunday, January 11th, 2015, one of the most impressive gatherings in history took place on the streets of Paris.  It came as a response to the worst terrorist attack that France has suffered in over 50 years.  Most of my friends took part.  I chose not to, saying that jumping into a crowd of a million people would be a bit much for me.  But I watched the live feed of the march, and I was deeply moved by the sight of a million Parisians and over 40 world leaders all participating in the march from the Place de la République.  I had never seen anything like this--honestly, I wouldn't have expected anything like this, even after I knew the full extent of the Charlie Hebdo massacre.  For the leaders of almost every European country and so many others to spontaneously come together in this way was utterly unprecedented. 

And yet in spite of how touching and powerful it was, I couldn't help but wonder: why is this only happening now?  What is it about Charlie Hebdo that brought millions of people into the streets, and inspired so many heads of state to drop everything and fly to France at a moment's notice? 

It's not the first time there's been a terrorist attack in the Western world.  In fact, in terms of sheer scale, most of the other attacks of this century completely dwarf the Charlie Hebdo massacre.  Far more people died in the 2004 Madrid bombings, the 2005 London bombings, and the 2010 Moscow bombings--and those attacks were similarly perpetrated by Muslim extremists.  Even 9/11, the mother of modern terrorism, didn't provoke such a massive, world-wide show of solidarity.  There was no march of millions, the leaders of the world did not descend en masse to walk arm in arm down the streets of Washington D.C. to show their support for the American people after the World Trade Center fell and 3,000 people died. 

Now, there could be many reasons for this.  In regards to 9/11, part of it was undoubtedly pure shock and panic.  People had never seen anything like that before, and they didn't know how to react.  They were terrified, they wanted answers, and (some people) wanted vengeance--or they at least wanted the government to do something about it.  Having an international parade and holding hands in the street would have satisfied nobody. 

There is also France's time-honored tradition of public protest and marches.  The French place great faith in the power of large numbers of people in the streets and it seems natural that they would organize such an event in response to an ideological attack like this. 

And maybe also, after so many terrorist attacks and so many wars over the past 15 years, we've simply had enough.  We have fought and fought, we've compromised our own liberties and the liberties of others (looking at you, Guantanamo) trying to stamp out this terrorism, and people have decided that, after all, the pen is mightier than the gun or the bomb.  After all, this attack was different from the others.  It was not a bomb in a subway targeting any random civilians who happened to be there--it was a specific attack on journalists, and by extension, on freedom of speech.  What better response then, but to walk arm in arm down the street, to hold our pens in the air, and to proudly declare that we will not be cowed by such barbarity!

And yet...the more I think about the Charlie Hebdo situation, the more conflicted I feel. 

As I watched the live video of the march through Paris, I eagerly scanned the crowds for women wearing the Muslim head covering, and for people holding aloft the sign "Je suis musulman, Je suis Charlie"--or "I am Muslim, I am Charlie."  Now more than ever, I felt, it was important for Muslims to make their presence known, to show the world that they will not be represented by terrorists, that they, too, stand for free speech, and peace, and equality.  I knew that it would be all too easy for conservative and xenophobic groups like France's far right party, the National Front, to use this attack as another excuse to vilify and victimize Muslims.  It would be all too instinctively natural for people to fear and despise Islam because of yet another terrorist act such as this.  Now, more than ever, the world needed to see the faces of decent, normal Muslim people, standing together with everyone else. 

I saw many Jewish signs in the crowd.  Almost no Muslim ones. 

And the more I think about it, the more this does not surprise me. 

What does Charlie Hebdo stand for, really?  Many people openly admit, even now, that their cartoons are usually tasteless, at best--and downright racist, ignorant, and inflammatory at worst.  How can we expect a Muslim to go out there with a sign that reads "Je suis Charlie" when Charlie Hebdo repeatedly attacked them and their religion in smutty, bigoted, pointless ways for years?  And yes, Charlie Hebdo attacks all religions and all sorts of political figures, but that doesn't change the fact that they've clearly been targeting Islam more than any other religion, because it's the "hot-button topic" and the easiest way to provoke people.  Can we expect Muslims, then, no matter how awful they feel about these attacks, to cry out "Je suis Charlie!" without feeling that they are betraying their own dignity by doing so?

And is it really okay to go around, now, propagating the cartoons of Charlie Hebdo everywhere and donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to it (as Google just did, along with many French media groups).  Doesn't that just alienate our Muslim communities further?  Just because Charlie Hebdo was attacked, does that really mean that we need to take up their specific banner?  We must defend free speech, yes--but who's free speech are we defending, really?  As investigative journalist Glenn Greenwald points out, "It is self-evident that if a writer who specialized in overtly anti-black or anti-Semitic screeds had been murdered for their ideas, there would be no widespread calls to republish their trash in 'solidarity' with their free speech rights."

Teju Cole made the point bluntly in his article in The New Yorker: "The Charlie Hebdo cartoonists were not mere gadflies, not simple martyrs to the right to offend: they were ideologues. Just because one condemns their brutal murders doesn’t mean one must condone their ideology."

I teach at a French high school full of immigrants (or the children of immigrants) from Africa and the Middle East.  Most of my students are Muslim, and many of them have very mixed feelings about this whole situation.  Though they agree that the violence perpetrated against the journalists at Charlie Hebdo was deeply wrong, they did not feel that they could participate in the march, or even participate in the spirit of mourning that is going on throughout France.  They feel marginalized, they feel hurt and confused, and they have no desire to pay homage to a group that so cruelly slandered them and their beliefs.  Judging by this article in Le Monde, my students are not the only ones who feel this way. 

In the western world, Muslims are easily the most vilified, the most victimized, and the most misunderstood religious minority of our time.  Yes, there are an incredible number of terrorists acting in the name of Islam, and we cannot allow ourselves to bow to their demands, nor should we compromise our own values in order to fight them.  That means that Charlie Hebdo should be allowed to continue printing as they always have.  But do we really want to be Charlie?  Do we want to be so divisive, so narrow-minded, so puerile?  Is that not also a way playing into the hands of extremists? 

Or do we want to start asking ourselves the hard questions?

Joe Sacco, possibly the greatest of political cartoonists, is asking us to do exactly that.  




Sources of inspiration for this post: 

Unmournable Bodies by Teju Cole  - The New Yorker
A Saint-Denis, collégiens et lycéens ne sont pas tous « Charlie »  - Le Monde
In Solidarity With a Free Press: Some More Blasphemous Cartoons by Glenn Greenwald - The Intercept
I Am Not Charlie Hebdo by David Brooks - The New York Times
The American Absence in Paris  - The Atlantic

BELGIUM!

BRUSSELS

Liz and I arrived in Brussels the day after Christmas.  We started off in our usual fashion by just wandering around the city until well after dark--past the art museums, through the Christmas market, and into the Grand Place, where just by chance, we happened to be right on time for the start of their epic light show.  The Grand Place is probably the most elegant, impressive square in Brussels (encircled by the City Hall, and many other ornate stone buildings).  The show lit up every building simultaneously, accompanied by dramatic music.  It very easily could’ve been cheesy, but it was actually pretty cool.  Just watching the light play over those ornate facades was awesome, and the music ranged from joyful opera choruses to some trippy, sinister, Tubular Bells kind of stuff. 

Welcome to the Christmas Market!

City Hall

The rest of Grand Place

We also found these rather odd/amusing/blasphemous things: