The Garbage Strike

My Second French Strike: Not as Amusing

Yesterday morning as I was leaving for work, late as usual, I came to a stop at the intersection of our road and rue President Wilson, one of the major roads running through Levallois-Perret. Just as the light turned green, a policeman on foot walked by and held his hand up for me to stop. As he walked past, he looked over his shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look and a shrug. I didn’t understand why; don’t the police stop traffic momentarily all the time?

He was followed by a police car and another officer holding up his hand. I thought maybe some politician was in town and needed escorts. Then I heard a whistle. A parade on a Monday morning?

Next there was a flag, further confirming my bizarre parade theory, carried by…a garbage man? Followed by….more garbage men? What kind of lame parade is this? Then I realized that the garbage men of the city were on strike, and by holding up traffic they were calling attention to their cause. And for whatever labor reasons, the police are obliged to escort them.

Three minutes and four stop light cycles later, I was able to pull out behind the strikers. They were certainly taking their time strolling down the street. I followed them for two blocks, then turned down another road to take a parallel street out of town.

I braced myself for a garbage standoff, like in Toronto a few years ago when the garbage workers went on strike and the city was trashed. But last night they were back at it, collecting garbage and vacuuming dog piles. It’s good to know that French strikes are resolved faster than most French administration.