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138 result(s)

  • Their life in a bag
    5687
    Their life in a bag
    Sadio and her daughter Maro.
    Little girl Maro suffers from leukaemia. She and her mum Sadio spent years living in substandard and unsanitary housing in the Paris region. A very difficult situation aggravated by intolerable living conditions. They were accommodated by a slum landlord and had to put up with humidity, filth and unhealthy air. Médecins du Monde relocated them to Limeil-Brévannes.
    Diane Grimonet
     5687
    Their life in a bag
    Sadio and her daughter Maro.
    Little girl Maro suffers from leukaemia. She and her mum Sadio spent years living in substandard and unsanitary housing in the Paris region. A very difficult situation aggravated by intolerable living conditions. They were accommodated by a slum landlord and had to put up with humidity, filth and unhealthy air. Médecins du Monde relocated them to Limeil-Brévannes.
    Diane Grimonet

     

  • Their life in a bag
    5684
    Their life in a bag
    Sadio and her daughter Maro.
    Little girl Maro suffers from leukaemia. She and her mum Sadio spent years living in substandard and unsanitary housing in the Paris region. A very difficult situation aggravated by intolerable living conditions. They were accommodated by a slum landlord and had to put up with humidity, filth and unhealthy air. Médecins du Monde relocated them to Limeil-Brévannes.
    Diane Grimonet
     5684
    Their life in a bag
    Sadio and her daughter Maro.
    Little girl Maro suffers from leukaemia. She and her mum Sadio spent years living in substandard and unsanitary housing in the Paris region. A very difficult situation aggravated by intolerable living conditions. They were accommodated by a slum landlord and had to put up with humidity, filth and unhealthy air. Médecins du Monde relocated them to Limeil-Brévannes.
    Diane Grimonet

     

  • 5715
    5715

     

  • Their life in a bag
    5713
    Their life in a bag
    Diktatora is a Roma mother in Nantes. A few kilometres from the centre of Nantes, she and her family from Romania struggle to survive and bring up their children. Their daily reality: a muddy camp, dilapidated caravans, makeshift tarpaulin which is supposed to stop the water running onto their salvaged mattresses on which they huddle together to protect themselves from the cold.
    Diane Grimonet
     5713
    Their life in a bag
    Diktatora is a Roma mother in Nantes. A few kilometres from the centre of Nantes, she and her family from Romania struggle to survive and bring up their children. Their daily reality: a muddy camp, dilapidated caravans, makeshift tarpaulin which is supposed to stop the water running onto their salvaged mattresses on which they huddle together to protect themselves from the cold.
    Diane Grimonet

     

  • Their life in a bag
    5711
    Their life in a bag
    Diktatora is a Roma mother in Nantes. A few kilometres from the centre of Nantes, she and her family from Romania struggle to survive and bring up their children. Their daily reality: a muddy camp, dilapidated caravans, makeshift tarpaulin which is supposed to stop the water running onto their salvaged mattresses on which they huddle together to protect themselves from the cold.
    Diane Grimonet
     5711
    Their life in a bag
    Diktatora is a Roma mother in Nantes. A few kilometres from the centre of Nantes, she and her family from Romania struggle to survive and bring up their children. Their daily reality: a muddy camp, dilapidated caravans, makeshift tarpaulin which is supposed to stop the water running onto their salvaged mattresses on which they huddle together to protect themselves from the cold.
    Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4648
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4648
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4643
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4643
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • Travelogue
    4642
    Travelogue
    © Diane Grimonet
    03/10/2017     4642
    03/10/2017
    Travelogue
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4645
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4645
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4644
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4644
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4646
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4646
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4647
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet
     4647
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4639
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France – 2015- Porte du Pré Saint Gervais
    The language barrier stopped any effective communication with this family. I could never find out much. There were a lot of children living here. The family built a fence to stop their son running onto the ring-road.
    © Diane Grimonet
    27/10/2015     4639
    27/10/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France – 2015- Porte du Pré Saint Gervais
    The language barrier stopped any effective communication with this family. I could never find out much. There were a lot of children living here. The family built a fence to stop their son running onto the ring-road.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4627
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - 2015 - Porte de Briançon - Moldavie
    I met Moldavie there, but getting to her place was like walking a tight rope, made out of cement. There’s a lamp-post blocking the full width of the ledge. You had to get by without stumbling, and with cars surging past, it was scary. I found a little shack where Moldavie, who is from Romania, is 23 and five months pregnant, had been living for a year. She wouldn’t say anything, didn’t want any photos. I didn’t insist.
    © Diane Grimonet
    04/06/2015     4627
    04/06/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - 2015 - Porte de Briançon - Moldavie
    I met Moldavie there, but getting to her place was like walking a tight rope, made out of cement. There’s a lamp-post blocking the full width of the ledge. You had to get by without stumbling, and with cars surging past, it was scary. I found a little shack where Moldavie, who is from Romania, is 23 and five months pregnant, had been living for a year. She wouldn’t say anything, didn’t want any photos. I didn’t insist.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4626
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - 2015 - Porte de Briançon - Moldavie
    I met Moldavie there, but getting to her place was like walking a tight rope, made out of cement. There’s a lamp-post blocking the full width of the ledge. You had to get by without stumbling, and with cars surging past, it was scary. I found a little shack where Moldavie, who is from Romania, is 23 and five months pregnant, had been living for a year. She wouldn’t say anything, didn’t want any photos. I didn’t insist.
    © Diane Grimonet
    04/06/2015     4626
    04/06/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - 2015 - Porte de Briançon - Moldavie
    I met Moldavie there, but getting to her place was like walking a tight rope, made out of cement. There’s a lamp-post blocking the full width of the ledge. You had to get by without stumbling, and with cars surging past, it was scary. I found a little shack where Moldavie, who is from Romania, is 23 and five months pregnant, had been living for a year. She wouldn’t say anything, didn’t want any photos. I didn’t insist.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4641
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France Paris - 2015 – Camp torn down
    The camp was torn down around April 23, 2015. Two Yugoslavs and two Russians had been living here for a year.
    © Diane Grimonet
    29/04/2015     4641
    29/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France Paris - 2015 – Camp torn down
    The camp was torn down around April 23, 2015. Two Yugoslavs and two Russians had been living here for a year.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4633
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France -2014 - Porte de Bagnolet, Kakir
    I met Kakir near the Porte de Bagnolet, while going along the ring-road on the way to a camp. It looked like a rough area. I realized how dangerous it was. If anyone was attacked, there would be no way out.
    © Diane Grimonet
    29/04/2015     4633
    29/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France -2014 - Porte de Bagnolet, Kakir
    I met Kakir near the Porte de Bagnolet, while going along the ring-road on the way to a camp. It looked like a rough area. I realized how dangerous it was. If anyone was attacked, there would be no way out.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4632
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France -2014 - Porte de Bagnolet, Kakir
    I met Kakir near the Porte de Bagnolet, while going along the ring-road on the way to a camp. It looked like a rough area. I realized how dangerous it was. If anyone was attacked, there would be no way out.
    © Diane Grimonet
    29/04/2015     4632
    29/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France -2014 - Porte de Bagnolet, Kakir
    I met Kakir near the Porte de Bagnolet, while going along the ring-road on the way to a camp. It looked like a rough area. I realized how dangerous it was. If anyone was attacked, there would be no way out.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4629
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris 2015 - Porte d’Orléans , Joseph
    Joseph (50) has a tent next to the roadway. He doesn’t speak French. He is British. He hit hard times inside the European Union, and cannot be thrown out of the country. He does not have the money to go home, and in any case, there’s no one there waiting for him.
    © Diane Grimonet
    13/04/2015     4629
    13/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris 2015 - Porte d’Orléans , Joseph
    Joseph (50) has a tent next to the roadway. He doesn’t speak French. He is British. He hit hard times inside the European Union, and cannot be thrown out of the country. He does not have the money to go home, and in any case, there’s no one there waiting for him.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4628
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris 2015 - Porte d’Orléans , Joseph
    Joseph (50) has a tent next to the roadway. He doesn’t speak French. He is British. He hit hard times inside the European Union, and cannot be thrown out of the country. He does not have the money to go home, and in any case, there’s no one there waiting for him.
    © Diane Grimonet
    13/04/2015     4628
    13/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris 2015 - Porte d’Orléans , Joseph
    Joseph (50) has a tent next to the roadway. He doesn’t speak French. He is British. He hit hard times inside the European Union, and cannot be thrown out of the country. He does not have the money to go home, and in any case, there’s no one there waiting for him.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4625
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Saint Cloud, Mia
    Mia (21) did not want to explain how she had ended up here. She was training for a sales job, and had been living here for a year.
    “At the local social work center, they wouldn’t give me a room because I didn’t have a child. I’m not going to have a child just so that I can get housing, surely!”
    It was April 1, 2015 – a bad April Fool’s joke! And so young! Living in the street at the age of 21. What happened? She says she had a tough life. How about her mother?
    “My mother doesn’t give a damn.”
    She says she chose to live this way.
    © Diane Grimonet
    08/04/2015     4625
    08/04/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Saint Cloud, Mia
    Mia (21) did not want to explain how she had ended up here. She was training for a sales job, and had been living here for a year.
    “At the local social work center, they wouldn’t give me a room because I didn’t have a child. I’m not going to have a child just so that I can get housing, surely!”
    It was April 1, 2015 – a bad April Fool’s joke! And so young! Living in the street at the age of 21. What happened? She says she had a tough life. How about her mother?
    “My mother doesn’t give a damn.”
    She says she chose to live this way.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4597
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - Paris - 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Gustave
    Gustave (born in Dunkirk on December 6, 1940) is 74. His mother was Belgian and his father French. His grandfather and father worked in a brickworks. He has retired, but does not beg.
    "Sometimes people stop and give me some money, or something to eat."
    He gets lunch from an NGO. He lives with Emile and Jean-Michel. Emile helps him get by with his income from begging.
    "I was 60 when I walked from Paris to Bordeaux to go grape-picking. I'm not lazy."
    He does the housework and looks after his appearance, wearing a worn but timeless blue suit. He reminds me of a Fellini character. He is stooped and suffers from arthritis. His dream is to have a bigger tent so as to stand up straight, as he gets a sore back in his cramped one-person tent. Emile put a large seashell from Dunkirk outside his tent.
    "Look, Diane, you can hear the sea, the sea where I come from!"
    © Diane Grimonet
    20/01/2015     4597
    20/01/2015
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France - Paris - 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Gustave
    Gustave (born in Dunkirk on December 6, 1940) is 74. His mother was Belgian and his father French. His grandfather and father worked in a brickworks. He has retired, but does not beg.
    "Sometimes people stop and give me some money, or something to eat."
    He gets lunch from an NGO. He lives with Emile and Jean-Michel. Emile helps him get by with his income from begging.
    "I was 60 when I walked from Paris to Bordeaux to go grape-picking. I'm not lazy."
    He does the housework and looks after his appearance, wearing a worn but timeless blue suit. He reminds me of a Fellini character. He is stooped and suffers from arthritis. His dream is to have a bigger tent so as to stand up straight, as he gets a sore back in his cramped one-person tent. Emile put a large seashell from Dunkirk outside his tent.
    "Look, Diane, you can hear the sea, the sea where I come from!"
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4617
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    24/11/2014     4617
    24/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4623
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4623
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4622
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4622
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4621
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4621
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4620
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4620
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4619
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4619
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4618
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4618
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4616
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4616
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4615
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4615
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4614
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    14/11/2014     4614
    14/11/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4586
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 - Olivier, a musician.
    Going along the ring-road, I fell into rose bushes when clambering over a railing to reach a camp. As I got up, I saw a silhouette, and decided to go over to see the woman. But it was a man. Strange! He was playing the trumpet above the ring-road. Olivier practices there because it's free, no need to pay for a rehearsal room, and he can play away without worrying about disturbing the neighbors.
    © Diane Grimonet
     4586
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 - Olivier, a musician.
    Going along the ring-road, I fell into rose bushes when clambering over a railing to reach a camp. As I got up, I saw a silhouette, and decided to go over to see the woman. But it was a man. Strange! He was playing the trumpet above the ring-road. Olivier practices there because it's free, no need to pay for a rehearsal room, and he can play away without worrying about disturbing the neighbors.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4609
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    20/10/2014     4609
    20/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4607
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    20/10/2014     4607
    20/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4606
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    20/10/2014     4606
    20/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4605
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    20/10/2014     4605
    20/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4624
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4624
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Fernando
    Gradually the cafés started opening, and I could hear the old song about Paris waking at 5 in the morning. I’d spotted a sheet metal shack on top of a public transport structure.
    “How did you find where I live?”
    It was a random discovery.
    “Are you police?”
    Fernando (51) has been in France since 1978, and in the street since 2011. He says he’s lucky because he can go to his brother’s place at the weekend for a shower. He used to work on building sites, and he’s lucky, so he says. He suffered a stroke which changed his life. He receives minimum income support of 500 euros a month, has no mobile telephone, and refuses to beg. He set up his shelter here because he was sick of being thrown out of buildings where he would sleep in hallways; he was sick of being a nuisance. He’s afraid of the Russians and the Poles. Some time later I went back to see him, but his shack had been taken down and Fernando was nowhere to be seen.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4613
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4613
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4612
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4612
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4611
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4611
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4610
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4610
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2015 - Porte de Champerret, Djamela
    Sunrise: coffee, 5 cigarettes, and an addled mind. I went along the track by the horrendous ring-road that goes around Paris. I felt I was high up, and the cars down there looked so small. There was no light; it was a bit scary; I was afraid of falling. I sat down and waited. Turning around I saw a woman in the distance. Something was moving. Something was happening. I finally got up and went over to her. She was preparing some food.
    “Hi!”
    She turned around.
    “Do you live on the ring-road?”
    “No, I just cook here. I found some tomatoes.”
    Silence.
    Djamela does her cooking by the ring-road. She gets an old paint can, puts a metal rack on it and heats up her food. I tried to work out where she was living, but she wouldn’t answer. Djamela was hungry so I said I’d take her out to eat. Between the dark rings under my eyes, and her almost bare feet, we were pretty conspicuous. I could feel people looking at us. It was a strange and unpleasant feeling.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4608
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4608
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4604
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/10/2014     4604
    16/10/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, 2014-2015 - Porte de Champerret, Vladimir
    Vladimir (50) is undocumented and begs. He suffers from hepatitis C and urgently needs medical care, but has no health cover. He showed me a document from the NGO France Terre d’asile stating that he is a political refugee and is entitled to temporary benefits, but he does not speak or understand French well enough to claim his entitlements.
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4590
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet
    18/09/2014     4590
    18/09/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4591
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/09/2014     4591
    16/09/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4589
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet
    16/09/2014     4589
    16/09/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris , 2014-2015 - Porte des Ternes, Emile.
    Emile (61), originally from Belgium, has been homeless since 2002. He started work at the age of 14, as a postman, and at 16 became a builder's laborer. He got married at the age of 18. Emile does not receive any income support; he survives by begging. He paid for his own four-person tent which cost 90 euros.
    "The NGO Médecins du Monde doesn't give out tents any more. Goodness knows why!"
    Emile begs outside a Franprix supermarket; he can recharge his mobile phone there too. He has a regular daily routine, like anyone with a job, getting up in the morning, having a coffee, washing (in cold water), then going off to beg.
    "Look, Diane! You're almost on vacation here. Do you want a coffee?"
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4638
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet
    09/08/2014     4638
    09/08/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4636
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet
    09/08/2014     4636
    09/08/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet

     

  • The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    4635
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet
    09/08/2014     4635
    09/08/2014
    The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
    France, Paris - 2014 -2015 - Between the Porte du Pré-Saint-Gervais and the Porte des Lilas, David
    David (40) manages to get by. He has a special welfare allowance and health cover. Every morning he goes to a local NGO to collect surplus articles from stores. He has a wheelbarrow and a trolley. Then he makes things using whatever he has retrieved.
    “Everything I make is psychology.”
    That’s what he calls his camp site: “Psychology.” Then, one wet summer’s day, when I was up above him, he suddenly screamed out:
    “You’ve got your photos! Get out!”
    I could see the rage in his eyes, and the danger. I hadn’t seen it coming. I slowly moved backwards, step by step, and when I got to the corner, I ran. I went into a café and burst into tears. There was fear, and the loneliness of the situation, of doing this story, the fear that the work I was doing with him was not being understood, the fear of not having realized what was happening. That was “psychology.”
    © Diane Grimonet