Oulx - Clavier

Sometimes you pretend to know a topic only because you have heard about it, read the title of a book and think you know what it contains from top to bottom. The most fitting example of recent years is that of all the various posts, tweets, images on social media that we say we know a little out of laziness and perhaps a little out of arrogance only for having seen them pass on the screens of our smartphones. And I, unfortunately, am not immune to all this.
With the same dynamic I was convinced I knew the enough about migrants to be able to document all the phases, all the passages. Yet while the calls, emails and small trips related to my project accumulate, I realize that I really don't know anything about, that I have only seen the tip of the iceberg. Suffice it to say that it’s usually thought that those who arrive in Italy then stay there, but the reality of the facts is that most of them are only passing through and the destinations are very different European countries. This therefore opens up a much broader and more complicated discussion: that of borders.
After some research online, for example, there are articles talking about migrants crossing the mountains trying to leave Italy behind in search of asylum in France. And it is precisely here that I decided to dedicate this chapter of my project.

We often talk about Ventimiglia, a land of conflicts and debates for years due to the many who try to reach the French territory despite the rejections of the Gendarmenrie, but just as the landings don’t take place only in Lampedusa, those who cross this border doesn’t only do so in Ventimiglia. In fact, many of those who decide to try this traverse choose the trails of the Western Alps and it’s precisely here that various landmarks were born. One of these is the “Fraternità Massi Refuge” located in Oulx, a very small town in the Turin mountains. It’s a reception center for migrants passing through the upper Susa Valley, or rather, a support point for all those who want to try to cross the Italian-French border.

The decision to document this reality was almost immediate, but it wasn’t easy to photograph this border.

As always, things happen quickly and the time I had was barely enough to get used to and understand how things work.

What I can't stop thinking about is how, especially in my country, we often talk about deaths at sea and almost exclusively about the island of Lampedusa. Probably because they are distant places or because if a person dies at sea, after all, no one will see it and no one will ever really have to take responsibility for. But here it’s different: everything happens on our territory in front of everyone's eyes. Only between January and February 2022 in fact two migrants, one of them a minor, died in the snow and cold along this route in an attempt to cross the border on foot.

Then reading some news about it, the numbers of those who pass through the Susa valley are high, about 80-100 people a day, and having been there in person I can confirm that these numbers are credible. However, these news never seem to be too popular, they do not receive the importance they deserve despite everything happening in our mountains. I think the communication problem is always the same: if you don't talk about it it never happened, if it never happened nobody has to take responsibility for it.

Upon my arrival at the refuge, I am greeted by the operators who show me the structure and explain to me how the reception takes place. The thing that most attracts my attention, however, is that this is not the only point of reference for migrants: in fact, other reception realities have developed throughout the territory.

Although this refuge is officially recognized on a national level, it is not enough to cope with the emergency, this has led to the birth of different realities, for the most part managed by different social centers and anarchist movements, which although they represent a legislative problem due to the illegal occupation of uninhabited buildings, they are fundamental structures for assistance to migrants. For the moment I have not yet been able to visit these places, consequently not being able to form a real opinion about it. However, I decided to rely on the words of the operators of the Oulx refuge who told me “we had to reiterate with some of them, but they give a big hand”.

After the tour inside I try to get to know the guys who will stop here today. One piece of advice I was given on my first landing in Calabria is to always have cigarettes to offer to migrants, many of them smokers, to use as a "bargaining chip" for some photos or simply as an excuse to say a few words. I can guarantee that it works, but I think I can say that even a smile and a good dose of curiosity are equally reciprocated. So I chat with some guys, some just arrived and some leaving for the border. The stories are different, as well as the origins: if in fact the migratory routes change completely between those arriving on the Sicilian coasts, those of Calabria or those who pass through Trieste, for example, this border brings them all together.

There are migrants arriving from Morocco, Albania, Afghanistan, the Ivory Coast and so on, those who arrived in Italy by boat and those on foot through the Balkan route, there are men, women, boys and children. There are all. The few stories they tell me are enough to understand the dimension of the thing: those who arrived in Sicily at seventeen, ending up working as a farmhand in the fields, those arriving in search of a better future, those after walking a whole month through the The Balkans has not yet been able to stop and hopes to reach some friends or relatives in French territory, hoping that the last cash is enough to survive a few more months.

But the chatter end and for some it is time to go, Oulx is just a stop. To get to the other side, you must first move to Claviere, a very small Italian town from where the various paths begin which somehow lead to Briançon, where those who are not stopped can officially ask France.

Yes, because if nobody stops you then you can ask for asylum and stay in the country, if instead the French police stop you, come identified and reported in Italy (free to try again the passage in the following days, among other things).
My original plan was to follow some of them for a short stretch during the journey, and the last day this thing seemed possible, always remaining well aware of my limits: the risk is in fact to be accused of aiding and abetting the illegal immigration, with consequent arrest, which I had decided that I would never have pushed myself too much beyond the border.

A couple of Afghan boys had accepted my invitation to be photographed and for me it would have been the perfect opportunity to be able to document this odyssey at best. To understand things thoroughly you have to live them.

Once I arrived in Claviere, however, I was stopped for a normal border control by the Italian police, fortunately. No problem for me, it was a coincidence, but from that control it was then impossible for me to continue. Documenting a border is extremely difficult and I am learning it from time to time. The fundamental part, however, is never forgotten about these realities, because even if it did not talk about it they would continue to exist and represent a humanitarian problem.

Fully face them is the only way to find a solution that meets everyone's needs.