Someone from America came for a visit a couple years ago. They had a bag that wouldn't close and I suggested that it could become a magnet for pickpockets.
Sure enough, one morning walking up the street in an area well outside the tourist zones I caught a movement just behind me. Instinctively I stepped back and into the on-coming path of the out-stretched hand. The Romanian gitain quickly crossed the street and walked away. I kept my eye on him as I asked if anything had been picked. I was told the contents were safe and only then did I look away from the thief.
The incident bothered me. I hate being prey for sticky fingers.
With the opening of the borders in Europe through the Schengen agreement has, in part, come the free flow of thieves looking for rich pickings. Picks are typically from Romania and are gitain (aka gypsies). It should be noted that the locals used to prey on each other well before the gitain arrived in such large numbers, but it's the gitain who currently run the biggest pickpocket operations.
Earlier this summer I was riding the metro and saw on a station platform somewhere near the center of the city a large group of young Romanians who'd been stopped and were being arrested by the RATP police. It looked like it could have been a group of 20 to 30 youths all huddled together.
Just the other day I was talking with a friend who lives up in the 20eme arrondisement. They said that this summer things had gotten particularly bad. The Metro line 7 was being heavily picked. People of Chinese decent were being targeted. The story I heard was that merchants of Asian descent carried a lot of cash from their businesses around the city as a way of claiming smaller receipts that they had to pay taxes on and they were being preyed upon by well-organized picks.
The history of pickpockets and organized teams of criminals is rather well known here in Paris. But seldom do we first hand witness a successful pick. If they target me I've been so far lucky enough to put a stop to it by looking them directly in the eye and saying "arrêt!" Usually they blubber "OK OK" as they back away.
Yesterday, Jude and I went to the Halle Saint Pierre to see an art rude exhibition. Scampering home before the rains hit we jumped la ligne 12 to get off of the hill of Montmartre.
Around Gare Saint Lazare two Japanese young women boarded along with a crowd of folks from the railstation. A fat Romanian woman stood next to where I was seated and effectively blocked the aisle. At some point a 4 day stubble bearded young man with a hatchet-shaped face and nose came and stood behind the over-sized woman.
At a station around Concorde a group of people get off the train, including the fat Romanian. I didn't think much about it until one of the Japanese girls got a startled look on her face and realized she'd been picked. Hatchet-face pointed to three Rom that included two teenage girls I hadn't seen who debarked and just before the doors closed the two Japanese women quickly followed.
A stop or two later I saw hatchet-face put a wallet into the pocket of a lightweight jacket he held in his hands. Not sure if it was his or if it was the Japanese girl's and not having a phone to call the police I just sat there like a lump on the log. The man sat nonchalantly in a seat next to the door and casually got off at Pasteur and melted back into the city.
In addition to not like being preyed upon I really dislike feeling helpless. In America people intervene if they see something going wrong. That impulse is very much built into me. But in Europe the only people I've seen intervene are the police. Habits are clearly different here, though knowing this does nothing to make me feel better. This kind of petty crime really turns my stomach and grinds my gears.
Parisians are not naive. They certainly are not innocent. Far too much has happened here for any of these things to be the case. This is actually a rather cold-hearted place when viewed from certain perspectives. Will justice be served to those thieves? If so, when and how?
At some point in the night I remember thinking about the two Japanese women who had their vacation ruined. I wondered how bitter they must feel after being violated by aggressive Romanian pickpockets. I wouldn't blame them if they never came back to Paris.
This place can be anything but a city of dreams.
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