I have a problem. Well, to any person, it may seem like a mini-issue, almost nothing, not even an anecdote. But I don’t care I have to say it.
This morning, I went to my Campus France interview. For who don’t know, Campus France is a French institution that coordinates the studies in France for foreigners before you can start your visa procedure. Everything was fine. I came about an hour before the interview. I sat in the waiting room, and I waited patiently for my turn, which was at 11:45 to come. I was reading my book, everything was fine. The security person called me, it was 11:40 and I had to go to another waiting room upstairs. He talked to me a little about rain and shine, and I went upstairs in the other waiting room. I say “hi” to the secretary and sat down. I continued to read my book. Everything was still fine. Then, it was 11:50. I ask the secretary: “Excuse me, do you know when I am going to have my interview, I have an appointement at 11:45”. Very politely, very kind. Then, the undertaker, which was already in a bad mood answered: “You don’t see that there are other people before you, you have to wait until your turn comes… what, you have a problem?” The tone was arrogant, the eyes were impolite. If I were in a Moroccan institution, I swear to God that I would have made her regret her answer. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t in my own territory, so I responded (by the way the secretary wasn’t even French but Moroccan):” No I don’t have any problem, but I asked you a simple question, no need to be arrogant”. And she answered of course, as every Moroccan person, in a sarcastic way “and I gave you a simple answer”. That moment, I wanted to give her a simple slap in the face in the simplest way, but I told to myself to containg my rage. Moreover, I didn’t want troubles with my visa… this is actually the only reason that kept me contain my nerves. I silenced. And started to continue reading my book. Then, another employee came. She was Black and more arrogant, I am sure she is French. She could not have been other because otherwise she wouldn’t have dared talk to me like this. She said “Don’t ever talk to my collegue again and wait for your turn”.
The scene seemed so unrealistic that I didn’t know how to answer. Me, sitting in the waiting room of a French instutution and having people talking to me like that. I couldn’t imagine. I felt frustrated. The only thing I wanted was to talk to her in the same rude manner, but I couldn’t because I knew I would say something wrong, and that at some point, I won’t have my Campus France sheet. So I almost said anything. Thinking, when I’ll have my sheet, I’ll go to her superior and complain. My turn came. Fortunately, I wasn’t interviewed by the Black thing, but with a lovely Moroccan women. She appologized for being late and we started the interview, in a very nice atmosphere. When we finished, she asked me if I had anything to say, I asked her where the superior was because I had a complain. She asked me what happened and I told her in the most confident way. Then, the Black thing heard me. Damn, she is so authoritarian that whenever I see her I get scared. But I tried not to show it. She knew I was right. This bitch knew it. But the only thing she found to say is “you have raised your voice.. this is why I intervened… my collegue is not feeling well” all this in the same arrogant and superior tone. I just stoped the discussion because I was going to see her superior anyway. The Moroccan woman, still in front of me, seemed confused and apologized even though she didn’t do anything. She gave me my sheet, finally, and I left. I was going out. I reached the exit of the building, asking myself whether or not to go to the talk to the responsible. I asked myself, what do I wanted anyway? I tought. I wanted apologies.
I returned to the building, the security man asked me politely what the matter was, I told him. Another person came to hear what was happening (as Moroccan always do), and he told me that he was going to call the head of the departement. I was glad the top person could hear my complain. And I was going to choose my words and to be calm, because when I was previously saying my story to the security man, I was referring to the Black woman as “3azzia” which is the equivalent of “negro” in Moroccan Arabic.
The top person came. The first look at her could tell me that she wasn’t either helpful nor understanding. She was as snooty as her other collegues, and she didn’t even bother looking at me in the eye. The conclusion of all this is that I did get only half apologies, which were better than anything by her saying “if some of us said something impolite, we apologize, but I didn’t see what happened to take part in this”, and she left.
I felt miserable. Frustrated. And humiliated.
I’ve got thousands of ideas. I said maybe I should take a lawyer. But any lawyer would for sure laugh at me thinking that it was a joke. It’s not. I only want this bitch to apologize. These three bitches actually: the secretary, the Black thing and the pseudo superior. I wouldn’t ask for more. They are not professional, and more serious, they are impolite and arrogant.
I had another revelation. I tought that a lawyer wouldn’t be helpful because even if he accepted to defend my cause, he wouldn’t have any proof of what happened.And I tought: now I understand how mafias, organized crime networks and such thing happen. Because justice cannot be done everytime. Sometimes you know you are right, and their is no one to witness. So no one can witness for you. And that’s it you get nothing. So yes, I understood these people who manage to get justice for themselves. They don’t wait for others to do their jobs, they just take their right by themselves. And that’s it.
I’m not a member of the mafia. I know anyone in the mafia. And even if I knew, they may be too violent for this purpose. I got another revelation.
I remember someone telling me one day “My father started doing politics since the day my mother had been mistreated by some governement employee”. Well I think his father took quit a nice revenge. The morality of all this is that no one disrespects you when you have power. No one dares being disrespectful to someone in power. This is why, this morning, I promised myself to do my best in this life to acquire as much power as I will need. I don’t care if people respect me because they fear me. Some people are too arrogant that they need to feel fear in order to be respectful. Well, it is those people that I want them to fear me.
Z Wonderland 