Luca Trinchieri (from Liberation, July 7, 2008) Rome - There is also television, to tell how the Roman youth having fun in Trastevere on Friday evening. hallucinogens of . The streets around Piazza Trilussa crowded with people. Five or six stalls of street vendors. A boy has just got a pair of earrings to his girlfriend. The sirens of police capture everyone by surprise.
is not a simple check: three cars and a truck that has all the empty feeling of having to be filled . is the first operation against street vendors after the entry into force of Decree security, widening the powers to the mayors in the area of \u200b\u200bpublic policy. I stop to observe, as many others. It is curious, my. It is an instinct of self-control. The cops begin to
sbaraccare banquets. Via the market, collected in the summary sheets on which it was prepared. An agent takes an Indian close to the arm, and leaked all over his face, fear, resignation, except the instinct to flee. It's dumb. A big woman Africa, Togo, is much more talkative. If you take it when the agent collects violently flaps of the cloth that had supported the earrings and necklaces that sold. "Let me put in the bag, at least!" says the agent. "Do not run away, do not worry, here is my residence."
"But why all this? - He says - I was not doing anything wrong. " Agent runs a smile, maybe a little 'bitter' is my job. " Then the woman insisted: "I know the new law. Now I do 5,000 euro fine. But why not give us a way to do this job properly? "No answer from the agent, who goes away and gives way to a colleague, much less accommodating. "And come on, come on!" He says without a hint to help her carry her things. She, with the same smile on his face, closes the suitcase and orange hands are saying "where we go, here?" mask with pride the fear that deep down the growing. It keeps the irony, however, when I approach and ask where it came from. "From Naples, Naples beautiful, right?", And meanwhile, as I reveal its true origins in Africa, takes off her earrings: "I do not need more jewelry this tonight."
Two meters away two boys Italians with their feast in every way equal. sbaraccare should too, but the agents use more polite manners . Do not hold them by the arms, did not gather the goods. She gathers the few things they had for sale. He is shocked, terrified, and began to talk nervously: "I swear, is the first time I come, let me go." "If we take them we have to take you too," answers an agent. But in the end will not. The guy is desperate, "are in Rome, I can not believe I treated the same way as those there," . Obviously it is a persuasive speech. He approached a man in civilian clothes who is there to manage the entire operation. "Dottie, Captain, Marshal, I swear that I will not ever ...». It breaks out, looks like a child just put in a punishment by her mother. The man in civilian clothes shows adamant, but it soon becomes clear that only wants to teach him a lesson, and others just stopped - 7 people all foreign - are no longer in sight, let him go .
After completing this operation going to the bourgeois gentleman, I present to you, "I am a journalist and I witnessed the scene. Why have you stopped only foreigners? "I ask. The answer is revealing. "Take him away, identificatelo, and controlled - adds looking into my eyes - because he has breath that smells like beer." Already, the beer I was drinking before, and I choked with everything that happened. Fortunately it is not yet offense, though. I bring two to the duchy where foreigners gathered, holding his hands tight on the arms. It had never happened before, and it is a feeling really unpleasant.
"This is the list of those arrested yet," says the man to my right, also in plain clothes to a colleague. Behind the truck, hands out of pockets, mobile phone seized. "Why have you stopped only foreigners?". The man with the pink polo, what held me right, he says, though - he says - would not be required, "because these are all illegal." Bullshit, I saw with my own eyes the Togolese woman give their permits to the police before. But I did not expect a truthful answer. "Of course you did not own nothing better to do," he says with a contempt of the agents. "I had a question, I an answer. " The man in pink, that is my identity card and is chanting my name on the radio turns to me, "Have you finished talking?" Cries.
Apparently also answer questions is a serious mistake, and indeed third policeman, sheltered until just before you address me by saying 'look at that to do so only your situation worse. " I demand to know their names and grades, as I had already done with the man in civilian clothes at first, convinced that by law it is their duty to identify themselves. Another policeman - but how many I have around four or five? - Give me his version of the law. "You see what the difference is that I can ask you your name and you can not ask me anything, it's me who's boss. " A colleague adds: "Of course, if you want to write is different, but you do not recommend it, it would be quite uncomfortable."
The threat was missing, in fact. Stops question the man in pink. 'Luke,' and with the hand motions me to come to him. "You want to go?" I want an answer to my question, "I insist. "You do not understand - you said - you want to call it a story or not?". "I'm not stupid, I know what you are telling me, but I want my answer." Takes me away from the van, the streets Trilussa. Before me, the man who commanded the operation, the stinking breath. I wonder if you go back to him, but I realize that in the game of confrontation, his is much harder.
still waiting in the square, observing the work completed, up instantly where immigrants are loaded on the truck traffic that is mixed with the Tiber. There is nothing else to do tonight, if not tell what I've seen around. This sad result, this winter the Italian advance. Today begins the summer. Hurrah
is not a simple check: three cars and a truck that has all the empty feeling of having to be filled . is the first operation against street vendors after the entry into force of Decree security, widening the powers to the mayors in the area of \u200b\u200bpublic policy. I stop to observe, as many others. It is curious, my. It is an instinct of self-control. The cops begin to
sbaraccare banquets. Via the market, collected in the summary sheets on which it was prepared. An agent takes an Indian close to the arm, and leaked all over his face, fear, resignation, except the instinct to flee. It's dumb. A big woman Africa, Togo, is much more talkative. If you take it when the agent collects violently flaps of the cloth that had supported the earrings and necklaces that sold. "Let me put in the bag, at least!" says the agent. "Do not run away, do not worry, here is my residence."
"But why all this? - He says - I was not doing anything wrong. " Agent runs a smile, maybe a little 'bitter' is my job. " Then the woman insisted: "I know the new law. Now I do 5,000 euro fine. But why not give us a way to do this job properly? "No answer from the agent, who goes away and gives way to a colleague, much less accommodating. "And come on, come on!" He says without a hint to help her carry her things. She, with the same smile on his face, closes the suitcase and orange hands are saying "where we go, here?" mask with pride the fear that deep down the growing. It keeps the irony, however, when I approach and ask where it came from. "From Naples, Naples beautiful, right?", And meanwhile, as I reveal its true origins in Africa, takes off her earrings: "I do not need more jewelry this tonight."
Two meters away two boys Italians with their feast in every way equal. sbaraccare should too, but the agents use more polite manners . Do not hold them by the arms, did not gather the goods. She gathers the few things they had for sale. He is shocked, terrified, and began to talk nervously: "I swear, is the first time I come, let me go." "If we take them we have to take you too," answers an agent. But in the end will not. The guy is desperate, "are in Rome, I can not believe I treated the same way as those there," . Obviously it is a persuasive speech. He approached a man in civilian clothes who is there to manage the entire operation. "Dottie, Captain, Marshal, I swear that I will not ever ...». It breaks out, looks like a child just put in a punishment by her mother. The man in civilian clothes shows adamant, but it soon becomes clear that only wants to teach him a lesson, and others just stopped - 7 people all foreign - are no longer in sight, let him go .
After completing this operation going to the bourgeois gentleman, I present to you, "I am a journalist and I witnessed the scene. Why have you stopped only foreigners? "I ask. The answer is revealing. "Take him away, identificatelo, and controlled - adds looking into my eyes - because he has breath that smells like beer." Already, the beer I was drinking before, and I choked with everything that happened. Fortunately it is not yet offense, though. I bring two to the duchy where foreigners gathered, holding his hands tight on the arms. It had never happened before, and it is a feeling really unpleasant.
"This is the list of those arrested yet," says the man to my right, also in plain clothes to a colleague. Behind the truck, hands out of pockets, mobile phone seized. "Why have you stopped only foreigners?". The man with the pink polo, what held me right, he says, though - he says - would not be required, "because these are all illegal." Bullshit, I saw with my own eyes the Togolese woman give their permits to the police before. But I did not expect a truthful answer. "Of course you did not own nothing better to do," he says with a contempt of the agents. "I had a question, I an answer. " The man in pink, that is my identity card and is chanting my name on the radio turns to me, "Have you finished talking?" Cries.
Apparently also answer questions is a serious mistake, and indeed third policeman, sheltered until just before you address me by saying 'look at that to do so only your situation worse. " I demand to know their names and grades, as I had already done with the man in civilian clothes at first, convinced that by law it is their duty to identify themselves. Another policeman - but how many I have around four or five? - Give me his version of the law. "You see what the difference is that I can ask you your name and you can not ask me anything, it's me who's boss. " A colleague adds: "Of course, if you want to write is different, but you do not recommend it, it would be quite uncomfortable."
The threat was missing, in fact. Stops question the man in pink. 'Luke,' and with the hand motions me to come to him. "You want to go?" I want an answer to my question, "I insist. "You do not understand - you said - you want to call it a story or not?". "I'm not stupid, I know what you are telling me, but I want my answer." Takes me away from the van, the streets Trilussa. Before me, the man who commanded the operation, the stinking breath. I wonder if you go back to him, but I realize that in the game of confrontation, his is much harder.
still waiting in the square, observing the work completed, up instantly where immigrants are loaded on the truck traffic that is mixed with the Tiber. There is nothing else to do tonight, if not tell what I've seen around. This sad result, this winter the Italian advance. Today begins the summer. Hurrah
0 comments:
Post a Comment