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Postcard: Among the Paris protesters

I ended up in the middle of the demos on Thursday, mostly by accident. My impression for most of the day, up here in the seedy citadel of Belleville, was of how quiet things were. Much less traffic on the streets, and a Sunday hush to the neighbourhood. Then I took the metro to Opéra on a late-afternoon errand.

The system seemed to be running smoothly and the only signs of the big day I could see were a couple of people with Rêve Générale (General Dream, a play on Gréve Générale, General Strike) stickers on their coats. But coming out of the Place de l'Opéra exit I found myself quite literally in the middle of the manifestation. Thousands of union marchers and sign-holders and bullhorn-wielders and curious be-scarfed onlookers sprawled around the Place.

It was all very middle-class and polite at that stage (around 5 p.m.), despite the looming presence of police in riot gear blocking off the side streets. One huge robocop did a scary little dance as I went by, limbering himself up for the festivities.

I briefly talked to some French people, private-sector employees, who all greatly enjoyed rolling their eyes and saying things like "Only in France," with deep world-weariness. They say this is the biggest crowd since 1995, I said, and they laughed. "Oh, they always say that."

One woman said "They're just playing, enjoying a holiday," while her boss shrugged his shoulders: "This is normal for France. The public sector, the unions. It will be different when the people who are actually losing their jobs start to demonstrate. When it's people who really have no money. Then it will be dangerous."

On my way home a few hours later, I had to abandon the metro at Arts et Metier -- they were kicking passengers off the trains and it was getting chaotic on the platforms. So I decided to walk home, via Place de la République, where another huge crowd had gathered (organizers say 2.5 million people took part in total, while the police say 1 million; the marchers at Opéra were estimated at 100,000).

I hung around and watched the marchers for a while. Some people had climbed the large statue representing La République in the centre of the Place, waving a banner that said, simply, "Non." There was a slightly more aggressive feel to the crowd here, with smoke bombs and debris, and an increasing number of young men drinking in groups, attracted by the possibility of some street action, but still it was quite civilized. Most of the people I saw looked like teachers, tweedy and mild-mannered. Many of the banner-bearers were enthused and enjoying themselves, shouting out slogans with brio, but I noticed a few who seemed sheepish, slightlyembarrassed. After about half an hour, I left, to the sound of smashing bottles. I had to figure out what to do for dinner.

The next day, I heard reports of minor street violence between the police and "trouble-making stragglers" -- though some of the footage I saw seemed to show a few of those teachers being knocked about. Tear gas was used, But It all seemed to have passed with little incident, a little ritual two-step in the ongoing dance between the government and its employees.

The public were okay with this -- for one day -- but there's little eagerness here for anything more drawn-out. Not now, not with the global economy scaring everyone.You never know: we may someday look back fondly at the days of polite demonstrations like this.

Former Vancouver Magazine editor Matthew Mallon lives in Paris.

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