My experience of Friday night’s events isn’t a dramatic one. Thankfully, I didn’t hear any gunshots, I didn’t see people lying in the street or running for their lives, and my friends were all out of harm’s way. Even so, I am shocked and incredibly saddened that in the 15 months that I have been in Paris, it is now twice I have seen this same fear and disbelief in the faces of those living here, whether they are French or not.
I left a yoga class near Place de la Republique just before 9pm on Friday night, and decided to take the metro home to my flat by Gare du Nord in the 10th arrondissement instead of walking back along Canal St Martin as I often do. I had arranged to Skype a friend in Wales at 10pm.
Just as I got in, I received a message from that friend, warning me to be careful because there had been shootings near Place de la Republique. I quickly checked the French news and asked my flatmate if he had heard anything, but there were no reports. I thought he must have been mistaken and dismissed the idea, thinking, surely not again?
A few minutes later, the news started to filter in, and a long night of listening to the situation escalating and worsening began. We sat in silence and disbelief until the early hours of the morning, messages and calls flying back and forth as friends and family at home got in touch, and friends and colleagues in Paris checked everyone they knew was safe.
I ventured out on Saturday morning, unsure of what to expect. What I found were people determinedly going about their morning, boulangeries opening their doors as usual, and cafés ready to serve a Saturday coffee. It was surreal, everything was going on as normal, but with the undeniable, underlying sense that this was not a normal day. People walked about cautiously but defiantly, reminding me why I and so many of my ex-pat friends love this city.
In the face of the shocking violence of Friday night, they are not hiding, and they are not beaten. I have no doubt that in the days to come there will be marches and vigils displaying the solidarity and resilience of the French people just as there were in January following the Charlie Hebdo shootings. While the typically lively street outside my flat was as quiet as I’ve ever known it to be on a Saturday night in the year I’ve lived here, there was a French flag hanging from one neighbour’s terrace, and candles lighting the windows of many others.
The awful events of the weekend, instead of making me want to jump on the first plane home, make me more determined to stay here until I am ready to leave for reasons of my own choosing. A huge part of this is the brave reaction of the French people, for whom I feel sadness and awe in equal measure.
While I’m not sure that anyone in Paris just now can say they feel safe, I think they would all agree that this shocking violence cannot, and will not, be accepted here.
