Reportage
Trieste packs its asylum seekers into a ghetto called Silos, just in time for the pope’s visit
Out of sight, out of mind – that's all that matters to them. And this time it’s going to happen, as there’s a good reason to pull all the stops to sweep them under the rug for just long enough: the Pope will visit Trieste on July 7.
Ahmed is cutting someone’s hair with his hairdresser’s scissors, his customer sitting on an old stool scavenged from who knows where. They’re in a corner of an enormous room, with the floor covered in mud, a few beams falling from the ceiling, and rotten leaves carried in by the wind among empty bottles and rags. It’s a beauty salon for the have-nots: a fellow migrant cutting other migrants’ hair for free inside the Silos building.
Then Ahmed is off, with destination unclear: a blue van arrives with a dozen policemen, who take a few of the young men with them and then they’re gone, with no time to say goodbye.
These transfers are slowed down to a trickle; they should happen within a set number of days, but people are waiting for them for months. According to the authorities in Rome, this is just how things are everywhere, and there is simply no place that would offer the minimum of dignity that would entitle it to be called “reception.” The local prefect is pushing the same line, showing that he certainly doesn’t think that the responsibility for such a situation lies squarely with him. As a result, the migrants have to sleep in Silos, and there are no words to describe how appalling and shameful the conditions are. This includes those who are waiting for an answer from the police on their asylum application, those who are still trying to get an appointment with the police, and those who just want to leave to find their brother, their friend, or their family that has already found a place, a job, a roof over their heads, somewhere else in the rich and unknown land of Europe.
The asylum seekers are sleeping with barely any shelter, in mud and among stones, under small makeshift tents or on pieces of cardboard, among blankets hung haphazardly between the crumbling walls. It’s common to see fingertips nibbled by rodents, T-shirts full of holes, arms reddened by stings, people sharing their daily space with rats and insects of all kinds. The Silos building is a stone’s throw from Trieste Station and the square that is officially called Piazza della Libertà, but has been known for years as the Piazza del Mondo (World Square).
Many people have visited this place: ordinary people to see how the migrants are living, but also Bishop Trevisi, who has opened a new low-threshold dormitory (a model of social intervention aimed at adults in extreme hardship), but is aware that this is far too little, and is continuously demanding from the public administration that it should do its duty. There was also Tatiana Bucci, who 80 years ago was deported from this place to Birkenau, and who, as a survivor of the concentration camps, wanted to revisit the places where she suffered as a child. When she went inside Silos, she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears: “I feel like I’m back in Birkenau. These poor people, something must be done. These poor people, such a thing is unacceptable.”
What does Mayor Roberto Dipiazza have to say about it? He is just as blunt and dismissive as he notoriously was on the topic of sexual harassment: “Who gives a crap?” That’s been his attitude for years. Then, after half the city started calling for the reopening of a former covered market, which is ready for use and located nearby, to give the migrants at least a roof over their head and running water, he suddenly came up with the “scout camp” solution, in an isolated location up on the plateau – a project that earned him praise from Minister Piantedosi, although it’s close to falling apart. All the officials are talking about it as if the problem has already been solved; meanwhile, time passed and it seemed like the plight of the migrants was forgotten.
Hundreds are still spending the night at Silos, and every afternoon many of them can be found in the World Square, where Lorena Fornasir is always there to tend to their wounds, together with the many who are bringing food, big boxes of shoes, clothes and smiles: they come from the city, the region, the rest of Italy and even abroad, because that undaunted daily presence has built up an incredible network of solidarity.
The square is full every evening, with pots and pans and a few planks to serve as tables for bowls to be filled, benches used as infirmaries, and at times one even gets to dance, play ball or run around, because sometimes there are the children of Kurdish families, who are so bewildered and unaccustomed to city traffic that they cross the street hugging each other, without looking.
And, maybe because the Silos situation is now known even outside Italy, and because this square represents a loud cry of “shame on you” to the authorities by its mere presence, the mayor has signed the fateful eviction order: everyone must clear out of Silos within two weeks’ time.
Perhaps the mayor, fixated on “all decorum and tourists” and “the beautiful Trieste,” is thinking that emptying out Silos will also empty out the square. But where will these people who fled Afghanistan or Syria go? Nobody knows. From the mayor’s words, it would seem that some entity is going to relocate those who are already there to some unknown other location, while those who arrive will be put into the “scout camp.”
Too bad that project is still waiting for some renovation works to start, like refurbishing the sewage system so the septic tank doesn’t overflow, as it already has. What exactly will be waiting for them in the small buildings of the scout camp park? What assistance, what services, what prospects will they have? And “those who will come” will keep coming, in an unbroken stream, about 40 a day on average. Most of them are transients, coming and going within a couple of days, heading to other destinations, with no intention to stop in Italy. The train station is their goal; the World Square is just a moment of human warmth, while Silos is the awful but unavoidable resting spot.
There have been petitions, letters to newspapers, messages on social media: “Reopen the former covered market!” They’re now joined by tough questions: “Eviction? What’s next? What about tonight, what about tomorrow?” ICS is writing angry press releases, minority city and regional councilors are protesting and raising questions, but for the right-wingers in power, there is only one answer: kick the people out of the abomination that is Silos, the end.
Meanwhile, in the square, the people are waiting and on alert, but as the days go by, it all looks like business as usual. On Sunday, three Syrian kids arrived, very tired and looking worse for wear, after being beaten up by the Bulgarian police and pushed back to Turkey; now they finally made it to Trieste, with all too many wounds and scrapes from braving the Balkan route. In the square, they were met by Adeel, a former ER nurse in Peshawar, who started picking out bandages and ointments for them together with Lorena. Adnan had a serious wound, so Gianni, a doctor who arrived from Chiavari on Sunday, looked at him, picked him up in his car and took him to the emergency room. Later on, an Afghan family with two small children arrived: they had been staying in the Netherlands, practically settled in, but they were caught in the dragnet of Eurodac – the Europe-wide fingerprint bank – which had recorded them as transiting from Croatia, so they were deported back there on a dedicated flight. The Dublin Regulation reigns supreme; people like them are called “Dubliners,” and quite a few find themselves deported after they had already started building their future.
In the case of this family, there was no end to the hurt and humiliation: Zagreb didn’t want them and threw them out on the street, telling them they were on their own. And now they got to Trieste, with fear in their eyes, with no idea where to go, but, they say, still thankful at least that their family managed to stay together, because it could have been worse.
This is the World Square and the slice of humanity seeking shelter in the 5,000 square meters of Silos, and that the mayor and prefect want to clear out. Out of sight, out of mind – that’s all that matters to them. And this time it’s going to happen, as there’s a good reason to pull all the stops to sweep them under the rug for just long enough: the Pope will visit Trieste on July 7. It’s easy to predict that by that date, Silos will be locked off for good. After all, the last thing they need is for the truly devout local bishop to take Francis inside to see the tragedy of non-reception, the horrors of the gateway to Italy through the Balkan route.
Originally published at https://ilmanifesto.it/trieste-fuori-i-migranti-dal-silos-sta-per-arrivare-il-papa on 2024-06-18