Marina di Carrara, Open Arms blocked while people are dying at sea.

Why don’t we dare to say it? Better one migrant dead at sea than one more who disembarks. Period. But not having the courage to say this simple truth, they make some word games, even propeller games. Four or five more days to reach a port in north-central Italy, twenty days of punishment for misconduct, a fine of 10,000 euros, so they will also waste time collecting the money or paying lawyers.

So it is certain: someone else dies (whether we know it or not, of course, better if we don’t know it…), but above all someone less disembarks and the numbers are important. This is what I think as I look at the Open Arms here in Marina di Carrara, 30 meters away.

I tried to figure out how to meet the team for an interview. I asked the harbor master, then the naval agency, then ….. I was given doors at three different locations. In one office the scene was like something out of a movie: two men are behind glass. One stands up and comes towards me, the other says to me these exact words, “Oh! But if you wanted to see the famous bandit Matteo Messina Denaro, do you think it would be easy?” And he signals to me with the crossed wrists of his handcuffed hands. The colleague, on the other hand, pulls me out into the street and tells me that we are going to try to make a phone call… As if to say, we create an “in-between” space, not inside the office, on the street, and I try to solve the matter…. He calls, then gives me a number where to send the document, the name of the newspaper…. In the end, he tells me that, with the authorization, if I come back tomorrow at 11 o’clock the Nostromo (shipmate) will be there and I will be able to enter.

However, I want to see where the Open Arms is, so I go to the door [dock?] where it should be and there, I see it in the distance. Trucks are coming in and out; I can’t go in, but someone from the team might come out and we could talk. I try to get attention from far away. I can’t. The supervisor gets agitated, [and] when I tell him I’m a journalist he gets even more agitated. I give him a document, ask him if he can go and call one of them… He can’t. In fact, I tell him with a smile: “We are dangerous terrorists…”. He smiles too and says: “No, it’s just the bureaucracy”.

Maybe laws, order, and bureaucracy kill more than real terrorists.