I live in a borderline neighborhood where cross Turkish and Muslim North African immigration and legalized prostitution. The
by looking at the sidewalk, not looking up.
If you do not look at the ground, to risk tripping over too many kilos of immodizia piled on the sidewalk.
If you do not look at the ground, I would see the bodies of semi-naked African girls waiting for their customers, lying languidly in a chair covered with dirty towels, in front of a window overlooking the street. On the same street
gypsy children play barefoot and alone, playing in the street, between the legs of people. Playing football or running a bicycle, stopping every few yards to pass through or clients of prostitutes. They play in front of the windows as if they were playing in a park.
If you do not look at the ground, cross the lustful gaze of men who cazzeggiano close to the walls (in Algeria are said to have a job to prevent the walls from falling), that when I step say "bonjour Mademoiselle, ça va?" and that, if I'm not around, I cry "putain" . Never raised his eyes, lest they receive a minimum notice of consent to their advances vulgar and crude.
Sometimes I feel responsible even exaggerated attention I get! Why not begin to cover their heads with a hijab? Why wear a skirt? Look, Cecilia, your neighbors are well protected by long burka and do not show their ankles, let alone the knees!
Disorientation.
