CAFI, a Vietnamese village in the Lot, France

ALONG the side of the river near St Livrade, there’s one road through a typical residential suburb with a small sign on the right that reads ‘CAFI’.

The road stops there before an entrance into a camp and what appear to be shabby army huts and outdoor toilets, with asbestos corrugated roofs.

Behind these is a large tower, probably a water tower, although it could be for surveillance. There are a lot of potted plants which give it a ramshackle homeliness.

It’s only in recent times that France has admitted to involvement in the Jewish final solution. Still less is spoken of the treatment dealt to those ‘repatriated‘ following the wars of colonial independence.

No surprise that some war survivors feel forgotten.

The Indochinese living at CAFI arrived by British boat to Marseille some 54 years ago and only now are receiving 20M Euros from ANRU L’Agence Nationale pour la Rénovation Urbain’ to rebuild their neighbourhood.

In Indochina following the Geneva Agreement of 1954 when North Vietnam went under communist rule, some Indochinese travelled to France. Emile Lejeune writes about the boat of 1956: “Then the boat siren was rung for the last time, and this was ‘goodbye’ for ever. Imagine all the images that went through their minds at that moment of their house, their work, their whole life’s labour. Leaving them behind in Indochina”

There were widows with many children, and men disabled from war injuries.

“They had never seen the cold of French winters. They had never worked in bean fields, or knew the factory workplace, they threw themselves into the battle to survive,” says one survivor.

With language difficulties the only work was often in the fields.

Emile Lejeune 89, is the son of a Vietnamese princess, and a magistrate. He wears the dust of a lost Empire. ‘Have I family now in Vietnam? They are all my family’ he says.

Also a former prisoner of war, he explained how his mother also supported the colony.

“During the Japanese occupation of of the second world war, people died of dysentery. My mother helped by providing medicine and caring for peasants hiding in the woods.”

Moving on to the life at CAFI, he found it again hard.

“We were under curfew, forbidden to have anything that showed outward signs of wealth, under threat of being evicted. There were many new rules, and we had to ask for permission to do something.”

The homes at CAFI had been used as a military remand centre, having rows of punitive style barracks. One faceless block has the letters K1 on it, there for fifty years.

Today’s mayor and Deputy of the Conseil General, Claire Pasut, emphasizes the enormous challenges of ’56.

“The commune of St Livrade numbered 3700, and all at once there were 2,000 more which was enormous in terms of the local population at that time. And little by little they had to be integrated,” she said.

There were twn showers and some communal toilets for all the refugees.

It’s therefore a surprise that the hundred or so remaining ‘residents’ greet strangers with real warmth. However representatives of the Conseil regional, and the Conseil general, funding this project to the tune of another one million Euros, noticed that in particular saying that they were, ‘very touched by the friendliness of the people, and by the serenity of the surroundings’.

Having inherited responsibility for CAFI in 2001 when the centralized support stopped, the commune took charge and facilitated the current funding. The Mayor recognises the complexity of the relationship between the residents and their French home.

“It’s is a very special place, because of its uniqueness and its history but it has raised difficult issues because the history of CAFI is linked to the colonial past of our country and the trauma suffered by witnesses and victims of this period who tell us they have the feeling of being forgotten.”

In addition some think that the funding is too little too late.

“It should have been done earlier when my mother was ill, we are very angry, they forgot our village, we don’t know why they didn’t help us before, why help us now? – its not normal,” said one of the children of ’56 whose father now dead, was disabled in the war.

Emile Lejeune too is unconvinced: “There have been different plans that have never come to fruition – they’re not good men – the Conseil General is badly managed its not helping things.”

For some, their parents had fought alongside the French in Indochina. When the French lost the ‘Dirty War‘ as it was called; the educated wealthy Vietnamese, women with French partners, and their children travelled by boat to France.

Their temporary substandard accommodation in a camp used as a prison since the war, remained unchanged for 50yrs.

Claire Pasut said: “450 children were schooled, ten classes created on the site for 360 pupils, the children fed, the conditions of life were difficult. In 1972 the town school was converted to take in all the remaining children.”

Everyone visiting the site notices the tranquillity, and the signs of a Vietnamese way of life. Some have even retired back to this little Vietnamese village.

It is a unified place, according to Mme Berlen, a resident. “We are like a family, if I need a loaf, I ask someone, we give to each other, it is not closed, it’s a group.”

“Some people grow exotic Vietnamese vegetables, in pots, and, of course, I prefer to eat Vietnamese,” another added.

The metal grill rests on flaky paint on the Indochinese food shop. Soon to be relocated to a new building, it is crammed with Indochinese supplies including bamboo hats,vegetables, teas and tins, such as sweet rice seasoning, Tom Yum paste, or ginger tea. The family owners prepare and sell sweets and main dishes.

An elderly woman with beatific face and traditional woollen hat enters, she is one of 24 of the original mothers or ‘Mamies’. She explains that her four children are now in professional jobs throughout France.

In the corner a family sit down to eat a traditional meal. The uniqueness has attracted many cuisine enthusiasts. As one man told me: “About ten years ago, you could eat there in someone’s dining room, they’d get up and make a space if necessary, but the food became so popular that they had to build an annexe. Eating there’s very popular with the locals of St Livrade.”

There’s also a Buddhist temple and a catholic church. On arrival in 1956 they were 65% Catholic and many Buddhists.

Emile Lejeune is known for his devotion. Living with his wife, in a humble space, with altar and incense, he has also set one room aside as a Buddhist temple; bursting with artificial flowers, and emblems of Buddha.

But there is no chance of these remaining as they are now. The Mayor looking to the future has brought together some experts to plan the new site.

“We don’t wish all the history to disappear with the buildings. We have hired a study group especially for that, consisting of a sociologist, a historian, and an urbanist, and we are in the process of discussing with the interested parties at CAFI, and those in the neighbourhood directly, asking them – what ideas do you have?

“We will maintain certain ways of recalling Asia, in the form and colour of the buildings”

Not everyone wants to exchange their lifestyle for a modern one, with comfort and some luxury.

In an early letter of protest at the proposed changes, former representative of CAFI. George Moll, said that the Mammies only wish is to finish their days in tranquillity. He said that it would be a sacrilege to move their altars.

After so many years, many have made this their only home and treasure their fifty year old French roots.

Having lost their home once they don’t want to lose everything again

“The most important thing here is the tranquillity,” said Emile Lejenue “Everyone will come here if new houses are built, with their ‘four beefsteaks a day’. The way that others live is not Buddhist. We are happy to live like this, and to eat as we like. It is the law of money in France now.”

The style of barracks built in the 30s, are now a major and long known health risk – with asbestos and lead. According to some, the long term effects may have caused illness.

“If the government discover that some deaths were due to the asbestos and to the lead, who will take responsibility for this, and who will settle the compensation to the families of the victims? Is it the asbestos and the lead paint that was the cause of death of certain of the CAFI inhabitants?” said George Moll.

The large red fire box outside K1, is a reminder that a woman also died after a fire in 2005. Their current barracks are not categorised as normal housing.

“As it is not the norm here, we don’t pay tax,” said Lejeune.

But as the Mayor says ‘the poor quality buildings cannot be restored, they have to be demolished and reconstructed,’ and she has removed their fears about taxes.

“The Mamies will now have support, due to their exceptional circumstances and special intervention from the Housing solidarity fund, FSL Fond de Solidarité Logement,” she said.

And for some, younger residents, they look forward to a more comfortable home. Lucien Berlen: “I hope the houses are put up and I can live somewhere a bit better, a bit more comfortable, it’s cold – electrical heating – no room to grow things, and it’s expensive.”

But as Emile Lejene says, for those in their eighties, there is no longer any need for them now, their last remaining and astounding quality is their serenity.

“We are tranquil here, people are bitter, but we have no problems. There was no help then and we have no need now, we are perhaps poor but we have our peace.”

PHOTOS DE CAFI
http://www.rapatries-vietnam.org/photos/cafi1/galerie-cafi.htm
BUDGET for CAFI (french article)
Download 2413_Invit_presse_Pose_1re_pierre_CAFI
The Camp of the Forgotten (english translation) by Francois-Xavier Seren
A google map to find CAFI, Moulin du Lot, St Livrade