On a recent trip to Paris, I had plans to meet an American friend at a new burger joint in the Latin Quarter. After fumbling to figure out a way to get there by public transportation, I gave up in favor of a cab ride because it was getting late.
The driver, a man in his early sixties, was well dressed in a suit, and sounded educated. His accent gave him away as a first-generation North African. I decided to leverage my taxi fare to gain insights into the burning topic of migrants, against the backdrop of France’s Muslims’ uneven integration into their adoptive country.