In this recent NYT report about the hardships and politics of “sans-papiers” —people without papers—living in Paris, these passages that caught my reading eye (passages that are more about the imagination than information).
One:
On July 11, 2001, Mr. Marega left Mali on a direct flight to Paris with a three-month visa and little else. He has since worked in construction, pouring concrete, and at a recycling plant, sorting plastic bottles with his long, slender fingers.How can you not love these "slender fingers"?
“I came to feed my family, and myself,” said Nouha Marega, a bashful man who is 32. “I came for my life.”Mr Marega not only has slender fingers, he also bashful. Being bashful and having slender fingers go hand in hand.
Three:
A steady stream of men, mostly Africans, mostly moving with the tired gait of the day laborer, flows in and out of 14, rue Baudelique.Is there an African in the world who is not familiar with this gait? The gait that always comes with the end of the day. Life is short; the day is long.
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