Ok, this past weekend was pretty wild.
We knew it was going to be an intense day. There was a major demonstration planned for Place Bellecour (about a ten minute walk from our apartment), but there were also smaller gatherings planned for all across the city. This was a conscious plan on the part of the organizers: they wanted dispersed gatherings to make it harder for the police to crack down on them.
The big demonstration wasn’t scheduled to start until 2pm, but by mid-morning our neighborhood was already filling up with people. There were police officers walking around (it always weirds me out to see them carrying big ol’ guns), helicopters flying overhead, and activists walking in a steady stream towards Bellecour. I’d say that the majority of people that we saw were wearing surgical masks and bandanas. Because, yeah, they were expecting that they’d probably get tear-gassed.
Most of our friends decided that it was best to spend the day inside, but we also had friends that went out and joined the gatherings. I’d like to have participated, but as recent immigrants, we didn’t feel comfortable doing so (at least not just yet). I still don’t have my residency papers in-hand, so I’m not taking any chances.
What we did do was to stand at our front windows and cheer the demonstrators who walked by. There’s a university across the plaza from us and there were a couple of groups that gathered there and then walked by us towards the river. I think there were probably a few thousand people who walked by. I can’t stress enough how peaceful they were. It was really a joyous gathering, with people chanting, singing, and a bunch of musicians playing along. We waved and gave them thumbs up and they all waved back and made heart hands at us.
Sadly, not everything in Lyon was like that. There were quite a few pockets of violence and destruction. The office of tourism got burned down, people smashed shop windows and bus shelters, there was sporadic looting, and plenty of graffiti. It made me really sad to see that our local tabac got looted. People are mad about rising prices, but small shop owners aren’t exactly raking it in.
We had tickets for a cinema event, so Kristian and I grabbed a couple of bike shares and set off across the city (all of the public transit in our area was shut down). We biked there and walked back, so we experienced the night at two different speeds. In a weird way, seeing everything in person helped me to feel less scared. When you’re sitting in your apartment looking at social media and reading everyone’s messages in WhatsApp groups, it’s so easy to feel like everything is on fire.
Don’t get me wrong, we saw plenty of fires. People had piled up e-scooters and left them burning. In case you’re wondering what that smells like, the answer is: awful. Burning e-scooters smell awful. There were a couple of times that Kristian had to steer us down random side streets, because we saw flashing lights up ahead and decided it was best to avoid.
But. We also saw plenty of people who were out and about, going about their lives. There were pockets of bad actors, but the city wasn’t the war zone that it looked like from all of the photos. I think there’s a drama bias towards what gets posted and reported on. The fires and property damage are exciting. They draw in our attention, because we’re hardwired to focus on danger (it’s what saved our cavemen ancestors from getting eaten, after all). I mean, look at the photos I took and used for this post. It’s all destruction (although please check out the video at the end for some scenes from the peaceful protests). We biked and walked past plenty of peaceful scenes, but it’s the dramatic ones that still stick in my own mind.
I’m not trying to say that everyone was outside singing Kumbaya together (that would be especially weird song to hear in France). We saw plenty of teenage boys who had clearly been out looting. And we watched a very slow-moving drama where a shopkeeper dumped water on a fire and a couple of teenage boys (why is it always teenage boys?) piled trash on the embers and tried to get it going again. We saw the fire department working on a burning building while riot police looked on. We had to go around piles of broken glass and trash. But, we also saw plenty of people who were peacefully walking around with their placards. And plenty of people like us, who were going about their lives and keeping an eye out to see what was going on.
On our walk home, we made a point of walking past a friend’s café to make sure that everything was ok. The side streets were quiet and deserted. In walking down them, the only sign of disturbances was the sound of fireworks in the distance.
On Sunday, I walked Lumi up to Bellcour. The Office of Tourism was still smoldering and the plaza was covered in graffiti. Little group of demonstrators would spontaneously start chanting. And there were plenty of riot cops standing around holding shields and brandishing batons. But, just like Saturday night, most of the people out there were like me – looking to see what was going on, and maybe take a few photos. Our Sunday market was open as usual. You could still see signs of disturbance (boarded up windows, broken glass, graffiti), but life was already getting back to normal.
The unrest continues (it will probably continue through to the elections in the spring). The government just announced curfews in a few different cities, including Lyon. They’re also banning protests at night. Which is pretty rich, because a group of far-right “anti-casseurs” apparently had no problem parading around last night. Maybe there are other areas in the city where they’re still having problems, but it was business as usual in our neighborhood. The curfew felt more like political posturing.
I made a little video about my personal experience this weekend. I hope I was able to convey some nuance.
We’re on our way to Normandy today, so that will be quite the change of pace.
What has been your experience of seeing the reporting about the protests?
