REPORTAGE- Every Wednesday evening, the association walks the streets of the 18th arrondissement to offer warmth, food and listening to the most vulnerable. A solidarity marauding necessary, particularly during periods of extreme cold.
Night is already well established when the volunteers of the Order of Malta meet in front of the parish of Clignancourt, in the 18th arrondissement of Paris. It’s two degrees, the snow that fell earlier in the day hasn’t completely melted and ice still covers the sidewalks in places. Between Christmas and New Year, at least eight homeless people died in the streets, victims of freezing weather and precariousness. Once again, in this week of extreme cold, two teams of three volunteers set off on a marauding expedition.
Before dispersing into the streets of the neighborhood, a time of prayer. An immutable ritual, to which everyone does not necessarily feel attached in the same way, but to which everyone recognizes a particular force. “It gives balm to the heart”confides Yves, one of the volunteers. “It’s a time of transmission, something thousands of years old. We write down the first names of the people we are going to meet, we pray for them”abonde Eric.
There are 24 registered in the sector, around fifteen regulars. This evening, there will be six of them walking the sidewalks.
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Founded in the 11th century in Jerusalem, the Order of Malta is today one of the oldest charitable organizations in the world. Present in nearly 130 countries, this Catholic organization develops humanitarian and medical actions among the most vulnerable populations. In France, the Order of Malta intervenes in social emergencies, medico-social, health and first aid. Its action is based on a network of nearly 13,900 volunteers. In Paris, several weekly maraudes are organized in the different districts.
“I feel less alone on my bench”
As soon as the volunteers have left, a silhouette already comes forward. “We’ll come back at the end of the marauding, he’s a regular”slips a volunteer. In this neighborhood, the faces are known, as are the habits. The route is well established: each has its own sidewalk, each has its own attentive gaze. Sometimes, for 200 meters, no one. Other nights, the bags empty within minutes. “We don’t look for quantity, we stay as long as we need”explains Vincent. “And above all, we take the time to talk. »
Rue Ordener, Jean is sitting on his bench. Under his feet, boxes to insulate himself from the cold. At 63, he has become a neighborhood figure. Very talkative, always smiling. “I can’t afford wool or wool”he jokes, proudly wearing the hat and gloves offered during a previous marauding. “I am conservative”he smiled again.
Jean knows the whole team, greets everyone, presents his wishes. “I’m delighted to see them. I feel less alone on my bench. The day is not always easy. They stop, they’re nice, they give something warm. This is not the case for everyone. » He describes social emergency services, which are sometimes difficult: “They put you with anyone, drug addicts, violent men. It’s hard. » Around him, the traders greet the marauding. The opticians in the store across the street know Jean, as they know the volunteers.
Yves opens his big red bag: cakes, canned goods, warm clothes. Jean politely refuses. He will leave with a cake, a meager loot that does not make him lose his smile. “Jean, we know that he especially needs to talk”explains Yves, while on his bench the man recalls in turn his school stories, his painful feet, his ophthalmologist consultations. “And then we also spot the weak signals: health problems, depression. »
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“We do what we can”
Further on, under a porch, a man accepts a hot tea and hesitates between tuna and sardines. “Both, ultimately…if possible”he asks embarrassed. He takes on odd jobs, living from apartment to apartment, sometimes on the street. We tell him about the open luggage storage on rue de la Chapelle, where beneficiaries can leave their belongings and meet volunteer doctors and nurses free of charge. ” You’re welcome “assures him Benjamin, another volunteer.
The three men continue their journey, almost slipping on the frozen cobblestones. A little further on, a man explains that he has nowhere to sleep tonight. The 115 is saturated. “I’m going to try again but I’m afraid, I got robbed there. The metro closes at midnight, I’ll be outside. » He accepts a tea, some canned goods. A young woman passing by stops, offers a little body balm, thanks the team. A small consolation.
The rain starts to fall again. The temperature drops below zero. Under a scaffold, David exchanges his old, holey hat for a new one. “You always have cakes and sardines”he smiles when the volunteers arrive. A little further on, Marie rummages through the trash in a supermarket. She accepts a coffee, some canned goods, a pair of gloves. “A lady takes me in, but when she’s not there, I’m on the street. We do what we can. » She points out other people in the area. “There’s a poor wretch there, if you can go and see. » Many know each other.
In front of supermarkets, near air vents, every corner of heat becomes a potential refuge. As they walk, the volunteers talk about those they haven’t seen this evening: Alexandre and his dog, Piotr whose papers were stolen, Bertrand, nicknamed Johnny, with a battered life story. “There are fewer people than usual this evening. It’s reassuring”slips Vincent.
At 9 p.m., the teams meet at the Order of Malta home. A “little evening”they say in unison. “We always hope that those we haven’t seen have found a home” Yves, Benjamin and Eric agree. The marauding ends as it began: with a prayer, for all the people encountered this evening, before leaving again next week, still in the cold.
