Five young Tunisian terror stashed in my hotel room
Friday shortly after 20 am, in tears in the tear gas, I agree with running the lobby of my hotel on Avenue Habib Bourguiba. Girls are lying on the floor, they struggle to breathe. Dozens of protesters of all ages crowded against each other in the narrow hall, their noses in handkerchiefs.
By Ian Hamel
More than 100,000 demonstrators this "Friday Wrath, and slogans increasingly hostile Mohamed Ghannouchi, Prime Minister ad interim, and his provisional government. But this day of action was extremely successful so far without incident. The police play intelligently discretion. I leave quietly towards the Kasbah 18 h up to 30 France Avenue and Avenue Habib Bourguiba. Suddenly, a crowd ebbs in reverse, amid fumes of tear gas. I am struck violently by a fifties who almost falls. Despite her fear, man I whisper a word of apology, before resuming his flight.
By reflex, I rush my turn in the streets of Marseille. Then I return to the Avenue Habib Bourguiba. The third floor of my hotel room, I an ideal observatory on the Interior Ministry. But it takes me a long time to progress to a crowd disoriented, which advances, retreats, trips, tramples. Many young people, wrapped in a Tunisian flag, and continue to run their anger. But at this point, none casts stones. Is the gun fire automatic is meant? Bullets have been fired, protesters have shown me.
Above our heads, a helicopter keeps spinning. For a long time, I do the back and forth between my hotel and the demonstrators. Many of them continue to take photographs. The air becomes more and more unbearable. We are constantly flooded with tear gas. I decided to follow the events from my balcony. It was at that time that the first pieces of wood are ignited and demonstrators descellent paving stones to throw at the police.
then I hear a stampede in the corridor, five young distraught - four boys and one girl - knock on my door and ask me to hide. "But there's no risk in a hotel?" "I said. "If management has called the police." Fortunately, I have two beds in my room. And for several hours, five boys will face me, often frightened, especially the girl, who tries desperately to get news of his brother, who also participated in this "day of anger".
Are these thugs as some have written, smashing everything in their path? I do not think. Very polite, they have continued to apologize for the inconvenience they m'occasionnaient. "If the political police catch us, we will be beaten, and spent days, weeks, months in jail," they assure me. For them, the revolution has been betrayed and dictatorship returns.
Outside, Avenue Habib Bourguiba is busier than cohorts men in black, armed with batons impressive, bordering police vehicles. Latest dams continue to burn. Two young people out of their pockets bullets they gathered in the street. "It must be said in your journal they confiscate the revolution," said one of them.
then heard footsteps in the hallway. We stop talking. It is in fact employees of the hotel, Supplementary Police, armed with sticks, which are hunting demonstrators in the facility. "Would you spend the night in my room?". "No sir, it does not bother you too long," they replied and they have slipped quietly into 23 hours. I do not feel they are caught.
Early this morning, traders Avenue Habib Bourguiba sweep the few broken windows. And despite the rain, protesters have gathered outside the Interior Ministry, shouting "Get out" in government provisional. "Back in the force ..." as the daily Le Temps .
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