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138 result(s)
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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
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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
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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
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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
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4648
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4648
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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4643
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4643
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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4645
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4645
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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4644
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4644
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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4646
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4646
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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4647
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
4647
The Forgotten Ones of the Paris Ring Road
© Diane Grimonet
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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
-
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