This is What a French Protest and Urban Guerilla Look Like

Technically, it started on Wednesday night, with an endless ballet of tow trucks emptying the huge, strategically placed parking lot.

Technically, it hasn’t stopped since January.

French people are pissed off. It’s not just the pension reform bill and having to work until 64. It’s… well, it’s everything, from inflation to the housing crisis and other issues you’re probably familiar with wherever you live.

And it’s the fact that for the 11^th time under Macron, yet another unpopular bill was pushed using article 49.3 of the constitution, the trump card to bypass the legislative power. Basically, the bill is pushed through without a vote which is a bit of a concern in a fucking democracy.

“Empty parking lots and boarded-up stores? This is yet another Carnival for you!” Feng joked on Wednesday night. “What time is the protest?”

“It starts at 10:30 a.m. I’m still French enough to be pissed off at the government and capitalism in general, so I’m in. My mum is coming too, as usual. This is the 12^th protest against this bill, by the way.”

Transitioning from Brazil to France was easier than I thought. Sure, it’s colder, but in a way, both societies are a bit similar—walkable cities, people in the street, good food, and a sense of community. I find it harder when I come back to Ottawa, where streets are invariably empty and it takes a car or a very long walk to get around. North America is a different world.

“I can’t believe I was worried when you were travelling in Brazil at first!” my mum laughed, as we started running away from the first tear gas only an hour into the protest.

The marching part of it didn’t take that long. Around noon, everybody ended up in one of Nantes’ biggest parking lots.

Time for the urban guerilla part to start.

Since the garbage collectors are on strike, bottles quickly became projectiles and garbage cans were set on fire both to block streets and to warm up people (rainy day in Nantes).

We took side streets, running away from the riot police when needed, running away from some protesters as well—violence is the new standard, and it sucks.

I got tear-gassed three times.

I escaped from a rain of rubber bullets fired by the police.  

I took pictures along the way, not quite sure of the story I was trying to tell—maybe the fact that protesting peacefully is no longer an option in France, and I find that worrying.