Last week we had the first wedding in Molinot for five years. The Bride and groom have been together for years and decided t make it all official. It was a lovely event, very redolent of a rural France that is fat disappearing. Yes folks, la France Profonde is contracting. Soon it won’t be there … Continue reading Wedding in Molinot — a photo essay.
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In the past walls were rendered and plastered with lime. Lime is a truly wonderful material that can be bent to a whole series of uses, but as a render on stone it is unsurpassed. It ‘breathes’, allowing moisture to escape and suppressing damp walls. This is because it is very porous. So why are … Continue reading Damp Walls–How to get them dry
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Eurotunnel, the operator, has invested heavily in security fences and personnel at the French end of the Tunnel but it is clearly not enough and they are swamped, daily, as would-be immigrants try to get into the UK.
The crisis has caused reduction in the frequency of freight trains through the Tunnel. Around Dover, the UK terminal, motorways have been closed for weeks as trucks waiting to depart for Europe are parked on them in what is called ‘Operation Stack’.
With the motorways closed, small towns and villages, whose roads are not designed for this weight of traffic, are jammed with cars seeking a way round the blockage. Businesses are reporting a catastrophic drop in revenue.
On the French side, large numbers of extra police and security have been drafted in to the Pas de Calais area to try to secure it, but they are manifestly failing.
While closure of the Tunnel is a drastic option, it may be the only one left. The situation, already catastrophic, can only get worse.
Placing the burden of cross-channel travel on the ferries would overload them, leading to severe delays and grave economic damage. It would also mean that the ferry terminals, unquestionably, would themselves come under siege. There is no easy answer to this.
The Tunnel is a magnet for illegal immigrants, most of whom do not understand its nature and think they can just walk through. Groups of up to a hundred have already been apprehended, on many occasions, trying to do this.
Most, however, attempt to secrete themselves on freight vehicles. This was the cause of yesterday’s death, as the man, believed to be Sudanese, was crushed under a truck.
Across Europe now, the immigration crisis is in full fury. A significant number of immigrants may be refugees from war, but the vast majority also have economic intentions. It’s not possible to separate these out. If you have been forced off your land by military action and seek to go somewhere you think you can find work, does that make you a refugee or an economic migrant or both?
Added to the refugees from Syria, Iraq and other parts of the Middle East and Asia, there are huge problems in Sudan, Ethiopia and across Africa. As Climate Change devastates this area with drought and famine, further territorial and ethnic warfare must inevitably break out, leading to exponentially-increasing levels of migration.
Europe is the target. Its soft underbelly, the long southern coastline, has already been ripped open, and this will get markedly worse. Italy is already submerging under the pressure, Greece can no longer police its islands and rows are breaking out between the other Balkan states because of the flow of migrants passing through them.
Europe is not a federal state. It is a loose confederation of independent states, bound together by treaty. There is no administration that could raise or divert resources that might deal with this. There is no centralised military command that could plan strategies and execute them. There is no unitary political control.
Yet while Greece is a frontline state in this crisis, Germany has deliberately pauperised it in order to teach a ‘lesson’ to Spain, Italy and France. How is it going to pay for its own defence now? And as for the other states on the front line, Italy is under similar economic pressure to cut spending when in fact, Europe needs it to spend on its defences. The same is true of Spain and even France.
This is a problem that needs to be addressed: Germany is guilty of arranging the Euro to suit its own ends; it can’t be allowed to manipulate this crisis to its advantage as well. It is fundamentally illogical and unfair to suggest that the southern European states, already burdened because of the Euro, should foot the astronomical bill that defending northern states from migration will cost. Make no mistake: the migrants are not coming to enjoy Florentine culture, see the Parthenon or sunbathe on the Costa Brava, but to travel to Germany, Holland, Scandinavia and the UK to get jobs.
The solution is manifold: vastly increased security forces in the frontline states to turn back or arrest illegal immigrants; detention and holding camps located near the point of entry; repatriation programmes and huge aid budgets to help the repatriated to live decent lives in their home territories, which in turn will probably require the deployment of military forces to secure these areas. This engagement would necessarily be open-ended.
The whole of Europe will have to bear the economic burden of this, which will be vast, but the greatest net contributors must be the wealthy northern states. Germany, along with the others, will have to cough up.
The freedom that Europeans enjoy is now under threat from events distant from its shores. Fortress Europe will have to be built, quickly, and it will cost a great deal of money. We are all going to be less free. This is inevitable. The Channel Tunnel crisis is not an isolated shower, it is the presage of a coming storm. The only way we can soften its impact is to take action now.
The UK and Ireland, with their semi-detached status, might have some hope of holding on for longer, but that must mean the closure of the Channel Tunnel as well ass the imposition of severe restrictions and much increased security on other forms of transport. This will impact the south of England heavily.
The people who live in these islands cannot escape the storm that has already begun; the question for them is whether they think that they can weather it better with their European partners or alone. Either way is going to be expensive and painful.
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According to the national newspaper Le Monde, under the headline ‘Emotions and hasty conclusions’ the woman who was attacked is Angélique Slosse. Three of her alleged attackers have been named, Inès Nouri, Zohra Karim and Hadoune Tadjouri. The other two are minors and their names have not been released. All five are Muslim.
The newspaper says that one of the alleged attackers was slightly injured and was signed off work for three days. One of Slosse’s friends was also given hospital treatment for injuries received.
Buzzfeed France claims to have contacted one of the alleged attackers, who was not identified by name, but only by her age, 19. She confirmed that she and her friends were Muslims, but that she ‘was tolerant’. According to her, she had, on seeing the victim dressed in shorts and a bikini top, said that she ‘wouldn’t dare dress like that’, to which she claims Slosse retorted ‘If I had a body like yours, I wouldn’t either.’
Buzzfeed’s contact then went on to say that she ‘approached (Slosse) to slap her, when she started fighting with my friend.’ The person, according to her lights, then tried to break up the fight before bystanders and a policeman intervened.
Certainly, this was petty. Probably, there was over-reaction. But one must ask, is it okay for a young woman, minding her own business, sunbathing in a bikini and shorts, to be harassed by passers-by and then when she retorts — and let’s face it, her response was funny — to be physically attacked by five people?
Furthermore, the attacker’s suggestion that she was not being aggressive is clearly false: her remarks were made loud enough for Slosse to hear them and respond. Her statement is also at odds with earlier reports, confirmed in l’Express by Commissar Julie Galisson, which claimed she had told Slosse to ‘Go home and dress, it’s not summer.’ Then, she clearly states that her intention was to physically attack Slosse, ‘to slap her’.
If you’ve observed as many Sheriff Courts as I have — the joys of being a photographer — then you know how to interpret statements like these: play down the culpability and make like innocent. But there is no denial that the attackers first harassed Slosse and then assaulted her. The only question is whether the motivation religious and again, it’s hard to see how it could have been otherwise.
There have been numerous incidents where Muslims in France have caused problems already because they think that French customs are unacceptable to their religion. Butchers have been threatened for cooking sausages on Fridays and shops have been forced to close. Restaurant chains have been coerced into taking pork off their menus and supermarkets into stocking ‘halal’ meats; anyone familiar with the obscene cruelty involved in the slaughter of animals to produce this, should find that offensive. I know I do.
The authorities and the Media are terrified that a reaction might occur. It’s been a hot summer, always good for riots, and there is a lot of anger in France just now, at Hollande, at the austerity measures forced on the country by Germany and by high unemployment, a low Euro and falling house prices. The Establishment does not want the extreme right of the Front National to profit from more stories of Muslim misbehaviour and intimidation, and one may sympathise.
It’s all very well to try to play down a problem to stop it developing. The trouble is, it looks as if it might be too late for that.
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Protesters today expressing solidarity with the woman who was attacked.
It’s a case of double-speak gone mad.
On Wednesday lunchtime, at the Léo-Lagrange Park near the town centre of Reims, France, a 21-year old woman was sunbathing with two of her friends, dressed in a bikini. This is perfectly normal and if you visit any park in France in summer, especially a hot one like this, you will see plenty of women wearing swimsuits getting a tan. It’s a French passion.
However, the woman, whose name has not been disclosed, was spotted by a ‘group of five girls’. One of the came over and told her to ‘Get dressed, it’s not summer.’
The sunbather replied that the newcomer was not ‘the religious police’ and at that point all five of the girls attacked the woman, requiring her to be hospitalised. She was signed off work for four days.
All five of the attackers were detained. The three oldest, aged 18, 19 and 24, will appear before the court on September 24 to answer charges. The two others are minors and will be dealt with by the French juvenile correction system.
French law, like that in Scotland, considers all subjects of criminal legal action ‘sub judice’ which means that to publish the names or addresses of the accused is itself a criminal offence. The name of the victim has also not been publicised, probably for the same reason, since she will be a witness, but also likely for her own safety.
The city authorities have been very coy about discussing whether this was a race or religiously based attack, again, likely due to French criminal law.
However, there is other evidence. A French organisation called SOS Racisme organised a mass protest at the park in question for noon today, of people dressed in swimming costumes. If this could not be seen as a racist attack, why would this organisation be involved? And note: they were not trying to defuse anti-Muslim sentiment, but to express solidarity with the victim.
On Twitter, the deputy Mayor of Reims, Arnaud Robinet, described the assault as ‘intolerable in our country’ although he was later to state, in an interview on TF1, that there was ‘no proof of a religious motive for the attack.’ Why would he bother to say that if there were no reason to assume that it might be?
The French Twittosphere in general has been alive with allegations of a religious background to the attack while everyone official is, as usual, standing with their hands behind their backs whistling.
The newspaper that reported the attack, l’Union, checked and verified that anyone can walk down the high street in a bikini without breaking the law, unless a local bye-law prevents it. The city authorities in Reims confirmed that no such local ordinance was in place, so the victim of the attack was behaving legally, dressed in a manner that she had a perfect right to be. Are we to imagine that she was attacked by a group of militant nuns? Or a stray pack of radical feminists? Don’t be silly.
The nonsense of attempting to keep the religious or cultural background of the attackers secret is a joke. As soon as they have appeared in court, their names will be revealed and their religious affiliation quickly inferred anyway. Presumably the authorities hope that by then, everyone will have forgotten.
But that is not good enough. France is a secular state and if people of particular religious persuasions are acting outside the law in promoting the ideas of these religions, then that should be exposed and challenged publicly. It’s not as if this would be the first time Muslims had behaved in an unacceptable manner, especially in Reims and the surrounding areas.
If indeed the attackers are Muslims — and let’s not kid ourselves here, if there were no possibility of that, this would have been made known; the official coyness is proof enough — then very firm action needs to be taken, by the authorities, to stamp out the culture that is promoting violence. If that means closing mosques and other places where this poison is being disseminated, better sooner than later.
It’s curious though, that only yesterday I was writing about how Muslims need to understand and accept the principle of secularism and here they are, it would appear, doing the exact opposite.
There is no doubt that many shadows are looming large over Europe today. One of them just got bigger. Every time things like this happen, moderates are squeezed between religious fascism and common or garden fascism from the extreme right. Europe is in trouble, and its leaders do nothing.
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2014 got off to the worst start imaginable. I broke with my lovely girlfriend, Crissy José, in a stupid disagreement that was entirely my fault. (I mentioned this in an earlier post). I had very little money and I was totally depressed. My world shrank and I turned inwards. I was emotionally gutted and actually in a very vulnerable condition.
Two events saved me. Well, three, but more of that later. In the first, my neighbour, a lovely woman who has always been very kind to me and my family, asked me if I would put some of my house-restoration skills to work on her house. She has a traditional fermette, and like all of these, the original space for humans was tiny. She ha already converted another outbuilding and her a stable into a nice letting apartment, but the barn was very big and as she has got older, it was clearly getting more difficult for her to do these things herself.
I would not usually take work like that, but I needed something. That work not only made me fitter, leaner and stronger, it focussed me again. The project is still unfinished but it looks positive and several others have come into view.
The second event of huge importance was that I met, through a Facebook Group, a person who was to become central to my life. She is known as Karis Burkowski and half in jest I sent her a copy of French Onion Soup . She liked it and made very positive comments, so I asked if she would help with a writing project I was stuck with. I thought she might do some editing and maybe give me some direction.
However, what actually happened was remarkable. After a hesitant beginning, the whole arrangement just clicked into place, and Karis became so much part of the project that she is now the co-author. The book is called Why Men Made God and we are currently working through the last draft (of over 40). This is the best working relationship I have ever had with another professional and I will be forever in Karis’ debt. She has improved Why Men Made God by orders of magnitude, and we are planning future projects together. Not only is she co-author, but she has also become my business partner.
Between these two projects I was really busy, but at the same time rediscovered some of my energy. It’s funny how the more work I have, the stronger and more energetic I become. My daughter Charis came to visit for three weeks and that was lovely, as it always is. I tackled some of the work that needed to be done to my house, including some roof repairs and replacing a rotten lintol over the barn. My next Onion Soup project, while slow, also progressed.
I even managed to find time for romance. I met a few girls online and chatted with them. But each, after a few weeks, just faded. Then I met a girl through Facebook and it seemed more serious. She was very nice, and eventually we decided to meet. This prompted me to book an extended break in the Philippines, where I am now (and where Crissy lives, by the way.) This seemed like a decent plan in any case. I know a lot of people here now so I was pretty relaxed, and it gave me the time to really concentrate on finishing Why Men Made God.
So I rented an apartment in Taguig, Manila. I flew into NAIA (pronounced ‘na-eeyah’) on the 15th and within three days I had broken with the girl. It just was not right. Another Facebook friend contacted me, and I had a couple of dates with her. She is beautiful, charming and affectionate; but I knew it was all wrong, though I could not tell why. I met another and also knew, right away, that this was never going to work. I learned that knowing someone online is not like knowing that person ‘in real’.
I had almost given up when I went back on the site where I first met Crissy. It’s a dating site and I hadn’t used it for ages. She was still on it and was obviously active, since her photo popped up quickly. The funny thing was, I almost didn’t message her. But I did, not really expecting her to reply. That was on Christmas Day.
So I was pretty impressed when, the day after, she replied. She was a little critical but I know her very well, she had been wronged and was not letting me away with it easily. But still, she wanted to meet.
We met on the 30th, four days later. I offered to take her for dinner at the Market! Market! mall near here at 6:30. I wasn’t really apprehensive, though I did ask myself if this was really a good idea. (I’m sure she did too.) I took a jeepney to the mall and reloaded my pocket wi-fi, hit the ATM and then went to the agreed meeting place. Naturally, Crissy was late so I had time to get scared but I didn’t. I just thought it would be two good friends meeting after a long time apart.
Crissy just appeared beside me without a word. She was obviously nervous. She made no display of greeting, just led me towards Giligan’s, a popular restaurant. But it was full, and I suggested another; this was too bright, said she. So we settled on Gerry’s Grill at her suggestion.
Crissy can often be insecure and I have to be gentle with her, and respect her need for space. I am sure meeting me had been stressing for her. Seated, and with the table between us, she was in a space she could control so she relaxed and I saw her for the first time.
She was more beautiful than before, perhaps a little slimmer. She seemed more self-assured and confident in herself, and actually more mature. She had changed, and as far as I could see, in good ways. Still I was not expecting anything. I had broken with her and counted it an honour and a privilege that she had even agreed to meet. This was just friends.
But slowly, as the evening progressed, that changed. Because the music was deafening, I moved to sit behind her, and very soon had my arm round her. She didn’t flinch or move away and even when I asked she just shook her head and said it was fine. But I knew that she knew what was happening, and felt it too. ‘I never expected this,’ she said, several times, without any reproach, just wonder.
Around about then, the door opened, or the lid came off. The lid on the Pandora’s Box that I had locked Crissy into. The door on all my lies and self-deception. The window that showed the truth. I am completely in love with this most beautiful person, and had been all along. Denying it was just stupid and futile. This feeling is just too strong.
The situation I was in became crystal clear. The other girls I dated never had any chance at all. I could chat online, but as soon as they were before me, real, my entire emotional system rejected them the way that white cells reject a virus. There was just no room in my heart for any of them, because Crissy – or at least the ghost of Crissy – was in there already, and that ghost was allowing no competition.
After dinner she wanted to buy a cake, for New Year, so we found a bakery. It was like old times, arm in arm, close, touching. It was absolutely exhilarating and her perfume was actually making me dizzy. I bought the cake, and then we found her a taxi. She had to get it home, she explained, it was an ice-cream cake, and it would melt. Manila in December is not like Paris. I asked for a kiss and she willingly gave one, just a nice friendly kiss.
Then something happened; I opened the taxi door and as she got in I leaned close to her ear and the truth finally came out: ‘I love you’ I breathed. I hadn’t meant to say that, but I was no longer in control. My heart, which had successfully and so loyally defended Crissy’s right to be there, was back in control and it was not about to put up with any more of my crass self-deception.
I was in shock. I came home to the apartment in a jeep – and collapsed on the bed. I don’t know what was worst – the shame at how I had wronged someone so profoundly decent, and whom I love so much, the stupidity of having lied to myself for so long, or the way I had – without meaning to, hurt others during a year of total untruth. Every wrong I had committed against my love I reviewed and every time I felt the agony of recrimination. It was a difficult night and I slept very little.
On the evening, just over two years ago, when Crissy and I fell in love, we were in the Red Coconut Bar in Station Two on Boracay. At one point I looked up and saw a bright green lizard on the wall. I had never seen one like it before, and have not since. Not till that night, after I got back from meeting Crissy, anyway. I went to brush my teeth, and there in front of me was a little bright green lizard on the wall. By the time I got my camera, it had gone. I am pretty hard-boiled, but that shook me; I was wide open to the Universe by then and strange things that only shamans understand happen at times like that.
I didn’t and don’t know what will happen. Crissy and I need to talk, seriously, about us and the future. I don’t know if she will ever trust me as she did before. But what I do know is that I will never, ever, deceive myself as I have again. That is why I am writing this, so that I never forget this lesson.
Never, ever, take anyone for granted. And if you love someone, never, ever, deny it. Make them the centre of your life and meet all challenges together. Love will cure anything. But you have to let it. Remember that you don’t often get second chances. Don’t waste them. Especially in something so important as love. These are the things 2014 taught me.
For 2015 I have very high hopes. I hope that Why Men Made God is as well-received as it deserves to be. I hope my kids do well and are safe and healthy and enjoy their lives. And I hope that I can repair the damage I did and that the most wonderful person in my world will regain her trust and faith in me, and that we can go into the future together.
And I wish anyone reading this all the very best for 2015 and that their dreams come true. Happy New Year!
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