Fives

Like many large European Cities, Lille is divided into different sections. Mine is called Fives, and is two metro stops from city center. Fives is … interesting.
For one thing, the mosque across the street means that there is a relatively high Islamic population. Which does not affect me most of the time. However, when I went to the grocery store yesterday a random man sitting in a car stopped me, started talking to me, and then asked me if I needed to be accompanied into the store. My defense: “I’m sorry, I just can’t understand what you are saying. Je ne comprend pas. Au revoir.”
Actually, middle-eastern styles are very “in” here. Women wear baggy pants that bunch at the ankles, and tunics are not uncommon, in cottons and bright colors.
Five also seems to have an unusually high population of crazy people. Like the old man who is always standing in his doorway when you come back from the metro station, and mumbling asks you for a cigarette as you pass. Every time. My new English friend Sarah has a theory that one of the houses down the street used to be a mental institution, and everyone escaped.
And finally, there are quite a number of stores that sell the most random assortment of goods possible, arranged in no order I can discern. It seems like each store I visit is stranger than the last. The Lidel down the street, besides groceries also sells select house-wares and gardening equipment. Le Croc has no food except candy, but most other things from underwear to dishes, to tiny figurines and toys. And finally, the weird store by the metro station whose name escapes me has firecrackers on the same shelf with Chinese fans and many other useless and semi-useful things. The problem is that none of these stores really has everything. Just selections of really random things. Thus it has taken me almost a week to find a transformer so I could plug in my computer. Ah well. This is where I live.