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Two days after Christmas while I was strolling in Montparnasse Cemetery, I heard a distant chanting. Following the voice, I saw a man wearing a keffiyeh in front of a simple grave. As I walked closer, I could see a cross and the first name "Jacques" on the grave, and I thought to myself: "So he's not singing to a Muslim." Then I stepped a few steps aside and saw the full name with surprise: it was the grave of Jacques Chirac. The man stood there and sang for a long time, he didn't care about what was around him. I was touched by such a scene. About 20 minutes later, I walked out of the cemetery and saw him again by chance: he had just left the cemetery through another gate and was trying to get an autostop.
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