Monday, May 6, 2013

"High on Life"--The Belgian Way

Brussels Fete d'Iris (Iris Festival) May 5th, 2013-Celebration of the City of Brussels (The Iris is the official symbol of the city:))





Let me start this entry off with a nice quote I found which describes the Belgian general philosophy quite well: Les gens de Belgique—simples, n’avoir rien à prouver, ne pas se plaindre, ce sont des traits de caractère typiquement belges.” (Translation: “The people of Belgium-- simple, nothing to prove, don’t complain...those are the traits of a typical Belgian personality.”)

Let me tell you about a few interesting happenings here in Brussels. Actually, now that I am reading this over again,  it turns out it is more than “A few happenings” but oh well, I think you will find them entertainingJ I also have some quite amusing quotes from the boys, so keep on reading if you want a laugh J
Let me just set the scene, I am sitting at my desk in my room on the 5th floor, the window in front of me cracked open, and rare Belgian sunlight pouring through. In the distance I can hear someone practicing the tuba, and then a jazzy guitar and trumpet come in. The neighbors are practicing their jazz band again, as usual on a Sunday night. It’s like a free jazz concert for the neighborhood of Maurice in Saint Gilles.


First of all, in the past say…3 months, I have felt my fluency in French suddenly improve immensely. I have thought of a couple reasons for this. One reason is somehow I have managed to meet a number of non-English speaking men…for example, one guy I met at the train station late one night when I went to Mechelen (a small Belgian town where I met a friend) and I asked him if the trams were over for the night, and he said yes and said he was going to Ma Campagne and said I could follow him if I also needed to go in that direction. Coincidentally, that was where I needed to go, so, feeling a little uncomfortable, but knowing this was my only way to get home, I followed him. His first question to me was if I was Spanish (I told you earlier, everyone thinks I am Spanish!) and we talked about our jobs and what we do. He works at a restaurant and moved to Brussels from the Ivory Cost about 10 years ago. Apparently, it is very difficult for young people (he’s  24) to find jobs there because there is a rule that you can only start work if one of your parents is working. But, since his mom was a house-wife and his dad ran away when he was a baby, he couldn’t work there. I told him a bit about my life, trying my best to not make grammar mistakes. He brought me to my street, and I told him thank you and goodnight. He asked for my number, and I was a little reluctant giving it, but all the same I did. One day, he texted me asking if I was available. I was just on my way to pick-up Felix from the nursery, but told him he could stop by to chat while I fed Felix before I had to pick up the boys. I had this feeling that this man was a little lonely, and I didn’t mind a little French practice. I gave him a coffee and we talked a bit about life as I fed the happy little Felix. Simon (the man’s name) was amazed at how cute Felix was (like everyone is:P). He left when I went to pick up the boys, and I haven’t seem him since. I have no intention to, but I thought it was an interesting experience.  

Another guy I met at an ice-skating rink a while ago, and we finally made plans to meet again. He is 23 but looks like he’s 17, from Vietnam and very friendly. He’s been living in Brussels since he was very young and is a good connection for me since he knows all the happenings and events going on. He also works at a restaurant as a bartender. I went to visit him there last weekend after I went out to a movie and shared a Lebanese dinner with my Finnish friend Sanni (one thing that is really neat about Brussels is that you can get almost any kind of food you want, and it is usually very good because it is the native people from that country cooking it…Brussels is one city that is truly international!).  Anyway, Minj works at a very fancy Vietnamese restaurant, and when I walked in, everyone looked at me since technically the place was closed (it was already 11:30pm at this point). I walked up to one of the waitresses and asked if Minj was there, she led me to the back and there he was, washing a bucket of silverware. Everyone at the restaurant was really friendly and joked around with each other, like a big family. They offered me a drink and gave me a place to sit. I chatted with Minj for a while, and one of the other workers, a young boy, asked me where I was from since I had an accent. But they both found my French very good J I was proud. That night Minj walked me home since the trams had stopped. It was quite a long walk from where we were, but we just bought some nice Peche Lambic (peach flavored beer) and started the hike. We stopped to ask a man getting out of a bus if he knew the way, and being very friendly, he said yes and would bring us since he was going to a place nearby there. We talked a bit, and when we finally reached the place, we were laughing and joking like old friends. That is so Brussels...you just meet random people and suddenly you are good friends. 

One of my very close friends here, Hieu (pronounced like “you”) told me that Brusselsoise are famous for following, quite strictly, the rule to live the moment and enjoy life as it happens. And you may ask why they have this philosophy...well, it is partially due to the Belgian weather. As I have experienced in the past 2 months or so, here in Brussels, it was very warm and sunny for two days in mid-march, and then it snowed for a week. Just last Thursday, it was 85 degrees, sunny…and the next day, 35 degrees, rain and clouds. Basically, the weather can change at any moment. So, the Brusslsoise people have learned that when a good moment is happening, they take every step to take advantage of it. And that is why people here, despite the weather, are so happy and friendly. They live in the moment, and that is how life is supposed to be lived. Let me give you another example. Today (Sunday) the weather was fantastic. Sun, warmth, blue sky…I went for a run in my normal place, Parc Duden, and it was PACKED. Families, couples, groups of friends, random men on their own drinking a beer…everyone seemed to be out and taking full advantage of the sunshine. I took a seat on the grass to stretch a bit, and took in the events happening around me: I see a group of friends throwing around a Frisbee, a girl and her dad playing badminton, a man trying to hang a swing for a group of little kids standing around him, watching in excitement, in the background you can hear someone playing the flute, a young girl is sitting on the top of the hill, strumming a guitar, a young couple is cuddling on a blanket, sharing a picnic, a group of friends are playing volleyball on the court in the middle of the park, an old man walking down the path, intently picking bright yellow dandelions and carefully making a nice little bouquet out of them, like he thought they were the most beautiful flowers in the world…..and then it starts to get weird. Brussels weird. I see 4 people, 2 men and 2 women, dressed kind of in a Rastafarian style with dreadlocks, strolling like a parade through the park, the women in front carrying a big, old apaullstered couch over her head, the woman behind her pulling a bag on wheels, and the men in the back sharing a wooden table with two giant mats on it. They are steadily walking through, and then the women stops and sets down the couch in the middle of the walking path, and sits down. The men follow her lead and set down the table. The stay like that for a few minutes, discussing something, then pick up their loads again and keep walking, starting to trudge up one of the hills. One of the men carrying the table stops when they pass the old man playing the flute and chats with him. Then he picks up the table again and their parade keeps on going until they head out of the park…
People enjoying the sun in Parc Royal

The vineyards surrounding Parc Royal


Oh, and speaking of being in the park, about two weeks ago, the Finnish au pairs (we usually refer to them as a group because they seem to always be together, chatting in this quick, tongue-rolling language and 99% of them are blonde) organized a picnic in Parc Royal, a small but very busy park just in front of the King’s Palace in Brussels center. It was the first really warm day in Brussels, and everyone was out. There was barely any room for us to find a spot to spread out our blankets! But the atmosphere was lovely, with groups of friends laughing, and singing, playing guitar…couples flirting and drinking beers, families playing ball together. The happiness and enjoyment filled the air, you could tell every person in Brussels was eagerly awaiting for this kind of day to finally arrive. We had all suffered the darkest, coldest and rainiest winter in Belgium in the past 20 years, and now we wanted to enjoy this first sunny day together. Celebrate our survival…live the moment J
Anyway, the rule was that each person who came to the picnic had to bring a food or drink to share. Immediately I knew exactly what I should bring: American peanut butter. I still had a jar left that my parents brought with them. I knew that these Finnish girls had probably never tasted real American peanut butter before. So, I took that and a couple bananas to go with it. When I first took it out of my bag, they were like, “You eat it with bananas? That tastes good?”
“It tastes like heaven,” I replied.
They passed it around, each one carefully tasting a little piece. And after each person tasted it, they declared that is really did taste delicious. And I was proud J First I converted a German family to peanut butter worshippers, and now my Finnish friends…who should be next?

The Finnish/Swedish group in the parc :)


OK, now I have a very, very strange story. I guess it reinforces the idea that Belgians like to enjoy life and make it fun…and, according to this story, that even goes for Belgian police! So, the story takes place after a Thursday night at Place Luxemburg, a big square in the EU district of Brussels, directly in front of the Parliament building. Every Thursday, people who work for the EU (as well as other people too…some expats and such) gather in this square, which is surrounded by bars, to drink beer and listen to music. Each bar has its own DJ and tent in front, and they blast music and once all the EU people are drunk, they start showing off their crazy dance moves. I like going there because it’s fun to meet all these people from countries all over the world. As you walk through the crowds of people, you hear a multitude of different languages...French, German, English, Italian, Spanish.. everything. The other au pairs and I are usually the youngest ones there but we don’t careJ 


Place Luxembourg, daytime. During the evening, the the entire street and grass area is filled with people. That stone building in the middle is the entrance to the EU Parliament, which I had the pleasure to visit this past weekend (usually it is closed to the public, but they had an EU building open-door day. All I can say is, that place is HUGE! It even has its own hairdresser, dry-cleaner, bank and restaurant for the employees. It's like a mini city in itself.)



Anyway, I was walking home up the street to my house (I live about a half-hour walk away) listening to my iPod and kind of dancing to myself, which suddenly I heard a police siren.  I looked up to see a police car circling towards me and the policeman waving his arm at me to come over… The first thing that came to my mind was that he was going to ask me why I was alone at 1am walking down the street…but that wouldn’t make sense. There were quite a number of people walking around actually. Maybe he thought  I was drunk since I was dancing around? I walked up to the window and he said, “Bon soir, madame” and continued in French,”Sorry to bother you, but would you mind helping us with a joke?” At first I thought I didn’t understand him correctly and asked him to repeat. He thought maybe I didn’t understand the word “blague” (“joke”, in French) and tried to find a synonym. I realized this and said, “Oh yes, a joke! Well, what do you mean?” And he explained, in a very excited manner, that he had a friend in the club Avenue down the street and they were looking for a random girl to call him and not say their name, just tell him to come out of the club and that she is waiting for him there. Then the friend would come out and find his police friends waiting for him. Kind of a lame joke, but I was more surprised that these police men, who seemed extremely enthusiastic about the joke, were doing this while they were on duty! Weren’t they supposed to be going around trying to find people to save or arrest bad-guys? I was a little hesitant about the whole thing, not because I didn’t trust the police, but more because I was afraid I would mess it up the joke with my accent in French... The police asked me where I was from, and when I told them I was American, they looked at each other with faces of pure surprise as if saying, “Of all the girls we could have asked, we found an American! Wow!” He apologized for bothering me and said they could find another girl, since they wanted someone who would have a French accent (it would be more believable for their friend, I guess). And they wished me a good night and drove away. I stood there, stunned in the street for a bit, trying to comprehend what just happened there… All I can say now is, the only time I have ever been stopped by a police was to be asked to help them play a joke… I’ll take that as something to be proud of J

OK, taking a break now. More coming soon!

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