Tonight at around 19:00 in Piazza IV Novembre, Perugia, shouting "we want Gaddafi government fall, "is paraded on a protest march against the violent repression Libyan.
talk about the procession is basically an exaggeration, because it was a few dozen angry men, but not at all annoying, terribly distraught about the fate of their countrymen. Something completely improvised, obviously very organized, signs in Arabic and some in an Italian unlikely, but effective. Some
Italian curious, a little too timid to be truly inclusive, it was also approached. One of them has dared to make a round of applause.
I was one of the few Italians around at that hour in the center. I was there by chance, as if by chance I was born in a free country (at least that they strive to make me believe), yet I felt very close to those guys. Of course I did those few steps that would be enough to join the group and I even joined the chorus. I was watching and I took this picture, highlighting the spoiled boy who had chosen as the subject of my testimony. I thought of my mother, who would surely have said: "Are you crazy?" Get away! " After all, they were all men and foreigners. So I gave up and I was watching, like watching television.
few minutes later the group decided to meet again tomorrow morning at the same place and walked down the Corso, in the same street where did the meantime, rub some Italians. I turned around and I took my direction. I never felt like this place alive in those moments where the cries of the young men rang: "Gaddafi out! Gaddafi down!"
The crackdown on demonstrators in Libya has the face of hundreds of mercenaries from Africa Sub-Saharan Africa, hired by Gaddafi to keep order. The North African dictatorships are a byproduct of Europe. We have exported impersonating democracy dictatorships and now that our brothers Africans have decided to take back what belongs to him, can not even be fixed to 100%.
We sold out our democracy to the highest bidder and now no longer remember what it is. Let us look amazed and dreams, but dreams are so afraid of freedom. We have explained very well the guys Rosarno, we repeat it every day, like an echo that is spreading in the blood, the brothers of North Africa.
The same awe and wonder the same dreamy I had seen printed on the face of a North African drug dealer Friday night on ladders, in the same square. We watched a horde of drunken Italians sing, dance and play. I asked why she smiled. For me was crying. E he told me: You Italians you complain as well, but you know what's going on in Tunisia, Libya!?!
Even tonight I went home thinking that the few times where I have demonstrated against a government uncomfortable I got lost in bureaucracy and permit applications, small diatribe on leadership, even though it was only necessary to protest.
In Italy there are over 68,000 laws in force. Compared to 6,000 in France, the 8000 of Germany, 9,000 in Britain. Every new law requires new facilities, officials, offices, cars blue. It is no longer of laws that we need, but of courage and peace. Those who have known freedom, who you remember, should strive every day to tell it. Who dreams, however, should be strong and follow your instincts.
talk about the procession is basically an exaggeration, because it was a few dozen angry men, but not at all annoying, terribly distraught about the fate of their countrymen. Something completely improvised, obviously very organized, signs in Arabic and some in an Italian unlikely, but effective. Some
Italian curious, a little too timid to be truly inclusive, it was also approached. One of them has dared to make a round of applause. I was one of the few Italians around at that hour in the center. I was there by chance, as if by chance I was born in a free country (at least that they strive to make me believe), yet I felt very close to those guys. Of course I did those few steps that would be enough to join the group and I even joined the chorus. I was watching and I took this picture, highlighting the spoiled boy who had chosen as the subject of my testimony. I thought of my mother, who would surely have said: "Are you crazy?" Get away! " After all, they were all men and foreigners. So I gave up and I was watching, like watching television.
few minutes later the group decided to meet again tomorrow morning at the same place and walked down the Corso, in the same street where did the meantime, rub some Italians. I turned around and I took my direction. I never felt like this place alive in those moments where the cries of the young men rang: "Gaddafi out! Gaddafi down!"
The crackdown on demonstrators in Libya has the face of hundreds of mercenaries from Africa Sub-Saharan Africa, hired by Gaddafi to keep order. The North African dictatorships are a byproduct of Europe. We have exported impersonating democracy dictatorships and now that our brothers Africans have decided to take back what belongs to him, can not even be fixed to 100%.
We sold out our democracy to the highest bidder and now no longer remember what it is. Let us look amazed and dreams, but dreams are so afraid of freedom. We have explained very well the guys Rosarno, we repeat it every day, like an echo that is spreading in the blood, the brothers of North Africa.
The same awe and wonder the same dreamy I had seen printed on the face of a North African drug dealer Friday night on ladders, in the same square. We watched a horde of drunken Italians sing, dance and play. I asked why she smiled. For me was crying. E he told me: You Italians you complain as well, but you know what's going on in Tunisia, Libya!?!
Even tonight I went home thinking that the few times where I have demonstrated against a government uncomfortable I got lost in bureaucracy and permit applications, small diatribe on leadership, even though it was only necessary to protest.
In Italy there are over 68,000 laws in force. Compared to 6,000 in France, the 8000 of Germany, 9,000 in Britain. Every new law requires new facilities, officials, offices, cars blue. It is no longer of laws that we need, but of courage and peace. Those who have known freedom, who you remember, should strive every day to tell it. Who dreams, however, should be strong and follow your instincts.
