Category Archives: Belgium

Interesting and odd things about Belgium, as well as to do’s and places to go.

“I kiss her on the mouth…

19 Sunday Jul 2015

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no matter her stinking breath” (Stephan Vanfleteren about Charleroi) 

 

It is a dark and gloomy day. One of those that are typically Belgian, although, ever since I got here -it already seems months it is just weeks- we have had none. A day we decided was ideal to visit my grandmothers city of birth. City of birth, although her real roots can’t be found there : apparently her parents just happened to be there when she was born.

Charleroi, an old cole mining city in the south of Belgium. In ‘those days’, it was the 3th richest area of Europe. Cole mines and heavy metal factories were so blooming that they had to import ‘hands’ from the Flanders, Italy, Spain and Greece. That was probably the only reason why my great grandparents were there before the first world war, and why my gran had ‘Dampremy’ on her birth certificate.

Since then it has changed a lot. The mines are closed, so have the factories. And apparently, for the last 50 years nothing significant has been done to restore economy, to re-school the unemployed, no reconversion at all, to bring life back to this deteriorating place.

To us, Flemish, Charleroi has a bad reputation : we see it as the example of all that is wrong in the southern part of our dear country. It is poor, dangerous, dark and gloomy, and corrupt (‘Palermo by the Samber‘). More then 1/4 of the population is unemployed, and has been for years. It is also known as ‘the ugliest city in the world’.

Charleroi is obviously not the most logical tourist destination. But we went anyway.

 

Driving past the center towards the Musée de la Photography made us think, just for a minute or so, that it might not be that bad. Beautiful city villas and mini castles, dating from the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, one next to the other, not all in ruins, witness some of the prosperity the city once had. Only to be put back into reality by the photos of Stephan Vanfleteren -my favorite Belgian photographer- : Touching, dark, hurting and depressive at times, if not always. Confirming our expectations.

Stephan Vanfleteren has a way of getting to people on the edge of society, and to express what he sees in a different way then most photographers. Over the years, he has spend weeks, days, nights, wandering through the town, which he learned to love, meeting with its people. Although poor and unemployed, the Carolos (inhabitants of Charleroi) are extremely friendly and hospitable. And although the situation is still extremely bad, some changes and improvements seem to be coming. Slowly.

 

But also the words in which he describes the city are as catchy as the images.

‘The unemployment numbers are shocking. Nowhere in Belgium the numbers are visually translated into reality. You see it in the streets, the houses, in the bars, the gambling houses… There is a name for it : degradation. You can not only read the misery off the streets, but off the peoples faces. The face of poverty is pale, gloomy, stupefied, it has broken teeth. In the past pneumoconiosis caused early death, today it is alcohol and nicotine that break the adult bodies.’

We had lunch in the center. It had started to drizzle, it was darker and gloomier still. Not the most glamorous way to see any city. It was crowded with people going to the Sunday market, lots of fruits, nicer and fuller then on the market in my town it seemed, and other food, plants, clothes… We didn’t stay long enough to feel the poverty and misery Stephan Vanfleteren found, but honestly, we weren’t really looking. I am no Vanfleteren wannabee, nor am I what we call a ‘disaster tourist’ (ramptourist), enjoying photographing other peoples misery and then quickly go home to forget all about it. I am glad to have seen the exhibition, and what better location could it have been than in the town that is its subject. It certainly is a place with potential, and I can only hope that the situation gradually improves, and thad one day, we can see Charleroi again in its full glory.

If you can’t make it to Charleroi (you should at least try), buy the book :

‘Charleroi, il est claire que le gris est noir, mais Charleroi sera blanc, un jour’, Stephan Vanfleteren. 

exhibition until dec 6, 2015

photos : one of the main square of Charleroi, in front of the ugly church, the others images of the exhibition. 

NB Charleroi is also known as ‘Brussels South’, the Ryan Air hub. It is 50 km from Brussels.

Coincidence

05 Friday Jun 2015

Posted by in Belgium, do & go

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Finally.

The Belgians are very patient people. For days, for weeks even, the weatherman has been promising summer temperatures (whatever is above 22°C), which -the same weatherman- has been postponing and canceling, time after time. Some Belgians don’t mind the cold, and with average temperature of 13,2°C in May, they wore summer clothes anyway, (light short dress or shorts, bare legs, sandals), after all, it is spring, isn’t it? Only looking at them caused me to get goosebumps. Many others were just like me wearing layers of warm clothes and boots, just patiently waiting until the weatherman finally stood by his promise and gave us some heat.

To the Belgian, the ultimate summer experience is sitting on a terrace, having a drink with friends, dinner even, much more even then let’s say, a dip in the pool, or a day at the beach. As soon as the sun comes out, and even before the earth heats up, all of us are pulled towards the ‘terraces’. Each restaurant and bar that has the slightest possibility to put some chairs and tables out, does so. Many of them even put heaters to attract early courages people in, or rather, out. Some hand out blankets.

We call it ‘terrasjesweer’ (terrace weather) and we even have a verb for it ‘een terrasje doen’ (to do a terrace).

Today is real terrasjesweer, for the first time this year. It must be around 30°C. Just for the day. Thunderclouds are supposed to be packing above us in an hour or so. And exactly today, one of the major Belgian newspapers De Morgen, publishes an article ‘the 19 best terraces in Belgium’. Of course this isn’t a coincidence. They probably had this article ready since Easter.

But just check out number 16 on the list. Well isn’t that ’t Oud Gemeentehuis? Isn’t that where you can see my #urbancars collection? There is no room for coincidence here. This is just great. So please have a good look around when you enter the restaurant and enjoy it all, the summer weather, the terrace and especially the photos!

Article in De Morgen, restaurants’s website, the #urbancar collection

It’s an ill Wind

27 Wednesday May 2015

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In Argentina they have a thing called the “Piqueteros”. Wikipedia defines it as : ‘The word piquetero is a neologism in the Spanish of Argentina. It comes from piquete (in English, “picket”), that is, its specific meaning as a standing or walking demonstration of protest in a significant spot.’
In Buenos Aires they are famous (or rather, infamous) because whenever you have to cross town you might come across them, personally or in the shape of huge traffic problems. Mostly it doesn’t seem to make much sense : most people don’t have a clue why the workers actually go on the street, chanting, waving with flags and beating the drums, against what exactly they are protesting. But mostly Porteños, or Argentines in general, think they are the only people in the world suffering from pointless protesting that only annoys people that have nothing to do with it.

Not! Tomorrow, for the 7th time this year (seventh) (and yes, the year is not even 5 months old), the Belgian train conductors are going on strike, again. Hundred thousands of passengers will not get to work or will take the car (which will cause huge road saturations, traffic jams even longer then usual), students do not reach school, etc. Nobody knows why. Usually strikers in Belgium spend the day at home, an extra -paid- day off always comes in handy, and can not count on a lot of sympathy. In this case, apart from the NMBS (the train company) it are mostly just the many people that take trains daily who are the victims.

Or people that occasionally take the train, like when they are going on a holiday and their flight leaves around rush hour, like, let’s say, our daugther. Impossible to get to the airport on time by car. 1 hour easily becomes 2 and if you are unlucky you are stuck in traffic for 3 hours and arrive just in time at the airport to see your plane take off before you. On a normal day. How will it be on a strike day? Thanks to this particular strike we will be getting up at an ungodly hour to drive her to Brussels and be in time.

For in time she must be, if you know what has happened in Belgium today. Hundreds of flights to and from whatever airport in Belgium were canceled, because the Belgian air traffic control Belgocontrol, had a power cut, a power cut, that lasted all day! For a whole day not one plane (except the ones flying at a very high altitude) could fly over this little country. Imagine the amounts of detours made, the amount of people being ‘shipped’ to Belgium from neighboring countries by bus, the trip by bus taking twice as long as the original flight time. Imagine the people waiting to be rebooked on next -already full- flights. Imagine the delays on flights that had nothing to do with Belgium in the first place, except that they had to cross/fly over it. It will take days until things are back to normal, until everyone is on the spot where they should have been now.

But as long as my daughter reaches her destination tomorrow, which I am confident she will, the only damage done to me, is that I can take over long sold-out theatre tickets of a friend who got stranded in Spain because of this power cut. She was supposed to be home today, bus has been rebooked on a flight on Saturday (that is, in 3 days!). Thanks to the Belgocontrol incompetence (what else can it be?) we will enjoy a good night’s out…

It’s an ill wind that blows no good.

Thanks!

(ps Kathy, I hope you get home soon!)

E.U. avant la lettre

23 Saturday May 2015

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Long before (almost) all the European countries united in the European Community, now known as European Union (E.U.), the Europeans had this one yearly event that united them more then ever. The Eurovision song contest. It all began at the beginning of international broadcasting, (1956) which nowadays seems as natural as rain that falls. In those days TV was still something, and broadcasting over the boarders seemed like science fiction. Many people probably still remember the first European Eurovision Contest. For me, this contest has always existed. As far back as I can think, I was allowed to stay up late and watch. It was a big feast : it was the only night I could stay up late, and very often I could invite a friend to sleep over so we could pretend we were voting from out of our sofa.

In those days the singers had to sing in their native language, there was a big orchestra, everyone had to bring their ‘conductor’ who even got a seperate applause, and there was also a limit in people that could go on stage, which meant there was no room for dancers and complicated choreography. And it was prohibited to play the music on the radio beforehand. Whatever you saw and heard, you heard it for the first time.

But then the Iron Wall fell down and all the Eastern European countries and even Russia started to participate, and everything changed. First of all it became necessary to split up the contest in semi finals and finals, because there were just too many countries (40 this year). Ever since that day Belgium only got through the semi’s twice. Well, even before that day Belgium did not exactly have a history of winning or sending in strong candidates, usually one of the bets we made was if we would end last, or one but last, but at least we knew we were participating.

Where as the contest usually had the same typical quite boring ‘Eurovision-songcontest-style’ -say Abba, Celine Dion, Johnny Logan…- with the coming of the Eastern European countries the style has become very bombastic and theatrical. The more shocking, the more provocative, the better, it seems. Participants can now sing in whatever language they chose, which usually means English as that language sells better. The orchestra has been exchanged for recorded music, the stage is bigger and more impressive then ever, which makes the performers seem to disappear in the total extravagance.

The ‘European boarders’ do seem to have expanded over the years. Israel has been participating for years, Azerbaijan is a member, and this year even Australia will be participating.

We used to record the songs on tape, and listened to it for weeks afterwards. I remember my aunt having the full collection as a piece of pride in her cupboard. Very often we bought the winning single. But now the whole show seems too big, too commercial, too many countries I don’t even know, too much of everything, that I am not even sure if I will watch.

But one is certain, tonight I will not bet that Belgium will end up last. Loic Nottet, the 19 year old Walloon, who ended 2nd in The Voice 2014, will certainly not embarrass us.

Go Belgium Go!

The Oldest House in Town

21 Thursday May 2015

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I am told that there has been a lot to do about the oldest house in Antwerp, also known as the city hall. Living abroad means I usually miss out on this kind of news, so when I am visiting I totally rely on friends and family to get me updated.

This year Antwerp is celebrating the 450th birthday of the city hall, which is already ‘dressed up’ with 67 flags, and they intend to fully take advantage of the opportunity to organize exceptional tours, visits, and a small exhibition. If you are lucky, Bart De Wever, the mayor himself, who seems to be passionate about history -after all, he has got a history degree- and even more so about his town and its town hall, might be the one guiding you.

The exhibition shows the history of the town hall, with interesting video messages telling different aspects of history, the work of the mayor, how the town council worked etc, and there is also a lot of information about the restorations.

The city hall was inaugurated in 1565 after some financial troubles in financing the construction, only to be burned in 1570 by the Spanish Soldiers, a fire that destroyed the interior and the roof. Only 2 years later they started the reconstruction.

Even though the a guided visit should definitely be on your to do list, tours are fully booked until mid October 2015, although I am told that during the period of the festivities (until february 2016), you can have an unguided visit to the city hall in weekends. For all those far away or not able to get a ticket, you can always console yourself by taking this virtual tour in the City Hall, although this might make you feel bad for missing it.

But if you have no ambition to get inside, you should come to the Grote Markt to admire the outsides where, from June 4 until June 13, the area will change into an oasis of green, when the ‘flower power’ takes over. A flower carpet will be put into place, which can be visited from the 4th onto the 13th, the last will be harvest day, the day you can take some of the flowers home.

tickets for the guided tours, festivities end in February 2016

Folklore Junkie

14 Thursday May 2015

Posted by in Belgium, do & go

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Where ever in the world I am I look up Folklore,  but when in Belgium it seems folklore has to come to me. I always seemed to think that there was no such thing as folklore left in this country. And although I had heard of the Procession of the Holy Blood in Bruges, it had always seemed too far off and inaccessible. Until my friend took me to Bruges today.

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It is the count of the Flanders, Diederick van den Elzas, who brought a crystal flask containing Christ’s’ blood from Jerusalem in 1150. The first known Procession dates back from 1304, the oldest known program booklet dates from 1722, and in 2009 the Procession of the Holy Blood became UNESCO Cultural Immaterial Heritage. About 1700 people participate in this big parade through town. Most participants participate every year, some characters go from father to son to grandson. Some groups are so traditional that it is difficult to get in. But there are also ‘new’ participants, schools help out, youth clubs, all volunteers, and for many this is the event of the year.

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Also city officials and church representatives are present. The procession shows scenes of history of the city, and religious and biblical scenes. It all has a very medieval touch and style, costumes from that era, wagons pulled by the big beautiful Flemish horses, only the spectators are from today.

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Not that I saw all this in person. After checking out how they were all getting ready in a big hall, putting on their beautiful, perfect costumes, some ready to go and having a beer while waiting, others still on the big catwalk-style stage to get a thick layer of make up, or waiting in line to get the final approval before the processions starts. A lot of old people but as many young and even small kids. Boys and girls. Sheep, horses and camels. It promised to be a perfectly organized magnificent folklore show that parades through out the city of Bruges.

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I was so ready, so I went back into the street looking for the perfect chair that would give me the perfect view on the coming -perfect- procession. Guarded with camera, raincoat and even an umbrella -you never know in Belgium- I finally sat down waiting while the crowds were arriving and taking their seats. It started ; a typical Belgian style fanfare came from the opposite direction, on its way to pick up the beginning of the procession, when just before my eyes, they were stopped by a police car, literally 5 minutes before the due start time, telling the people through a microphone that the Procession was canceled due to bad weather, and there would be no refund of the tickets (the 5€ you had to pay to sit down, or the more expensive places on the tribunes).

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Disappointment was big. Lots of people just held on to their paid chair, long after every one else had started to move. Last time it got canceled was in 1997 and it all seemed so surreal! I started walking around town, looking for the Holy Blood, which surely was going to be brought back to the chapel, when I was told that the expense of drying the whigs and costumes is so high, that they can’t and do not want to risk getting wet. The whole Procession is now postponed to … next year.

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beat queens

hold on to your paid chairs

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The Procesion of the Holy Blood takes place on Ascencion Day in the city of Bruges. Put it in your agenda check out their website for details. The best way to get there is by train. You can pay for a ticket on the tribunes, or just pay a few euros for a chair on the sidewalks, or stay standing. The Procesion takes 1:30h. Canceled when raining.

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“The Belgian are the bravest”

22 Wednesday Apr 2015

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or : “Horum omnium fortissimi sunt Belgae”

That is how we (Belgians) know, and grown to love and admire Ceasar. He is the first one who mentioned the ‘Belgians’ in writing, in 57 BC, and spoke well of our ancestors. Of course, we Belgians take all the credit. We were the bravest, weren’t we? Even though the Romans conquered us anyway. Even though after the Gauls, different tribes have conquered our environs and we probably don’t have much Gaul blood running through our veins anymore. We like to pretend we are still them.

So of course we like to identify ourselves with the great French-Belgian comic heroes, the Gauls Asterix and Obelix. When we were little, we got their stories from our parents with a spoon, and we gave the comics to our kids as being true history.

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Asterix, an exhibition in Centro Cultural de Recoleta. Don’t miss it, and find out how we Belgians used to live, and how we (used to be or still?) are.

Loosing the North

08 Wednesday Apr 2015

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IMG_1556I am -literally- counting the days to go home. I have been away for so long, that I have lost count of the weeks, and that I can’t figure out wether it is either spring or autumn, wether we are going towards summer or winter. It is a strange feeling. I have lost the North. I do remember vaguely that I couldn’t get away from the BA heat soon enough, that the heat was killing me, too much sweat for doing nothing. I longed to put on a coat. Various coats if necessary. Warm sweaters. Hats. Gloves. The dark and gloomy days. It all appealed to me like never before. I hadn’t had winter in over 6 years. What is winter, anyway?

I came to the right place. The northern hemisphere has been quite chilly this year. Finally wearing my more then 6 year old winter coats that are of no use in Buenos Aires, and all the other things I had longed for. How I enjoyed that! Various friends had pleasure in asking me ‘Cold enough for you?’. I couldn’t have been more excited! And as my mom always says ‘one can always dress to the cold’. But really, can one?

While walking in NYC with 2 sweaters and 2 coats, gloves and hat borrowed from my daughter, walking slowly, because my muscles were all sore of the cold, when at the same time my daughter who -in my eyes- hardly had any clothes on, said to me : ‘Mom! It is not cold AT ALL’, I realized I’ve had enough of winter and need to pack up my things and go southwards again. I have stayed up north for too long. I need to go home.

It really is time for spring. I see it in the people’s eyes. Especially when it is a spring-like day. With every ray of sun people go out and sit on terraces, out of the (still) cold wind, with heatings to stop them from freezing to death. They call it ‘terrasjesweer’ (terrace weather). The first rays of sun are coming, the first easter flowers are out, but to me, it is still a long way to nice warm weather.

Just as much as the summer in BA is too hot and too long, the winter in Belgium is too dark, too gloomy and too long. As a tourist escaping from the heat, I seem to be the only one enjoying it, knowing it is only temporary and my choice.

So I go south, to spring. Oh no, right, to autumn. But well, Argentine autumn is my favorite season.

(photo : Belgian spring day, people on the beach, 8°C)

The Chocolate Homeland

05 Sunday Apr 2015

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No better place on earth to be on Easter Sunday, than in the homeland of chocolate. Chocolates in all sizes and shapes appear weeks before the date, in supermarkets, chocolate stores and boutiques, and in bakeries. Some bakeries actually still do the effort to make the chocolates themselves, both for Easter then for Sinterklaas, which are top selling periods. And those are the absolute best. Really nothing compares to the hand made chocolate, less sugary, less sticky in your mouth, slightly thicker where at the edges. The taste is truly divine.

But that isn’t enough. Today the Good Lord has blessed us -for a change- with a perfectly sunny day with cold temperatures. Just perfect to go chocolate-egg-hunting in the garden. Not too warm so they could melt, and no rain to make it uncomfortable for the egg hunters.

How perfect that is!

But me. Well. More then 6 years in Argentina has changed me somewhat. Not that I stopped loving chocolates. No, I am still an addict. Not that I don’t love egg hunting anymore. It is the best!

Something quite different happened to me.

Only yesterday it came into my mind I should go and buy the Easter eggs. And what do you think? Well yeah, the best was all gone. I had to do with the left overs. No big bunnies or eggs. Just the little ones. Then the lady behind the counter misunderstood me and only gave me 3 eggs instead of 6, which I then carried home in great care.

But then -oh Lord help me!- I dropped the bag in front of my door. Only 1 of the 3 eggs had survived. And well, there is no hiding of crumbs and pieces in the garden.

So I ate them all before the count of 10. Deliciously, divine, addictive handmade chocolate. All gone.

Happy Easter to everyone!

Global Citizens, a new start

04 Saturday Apr 2015

Posted by in Argentina (home), Belgium, General, New York

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OK Guys, I am back. After -how long has it been?- more then a year I am afraid. Maybe even 2. But Ok, nothing is lost, yet!

I was completely tired of the subject ‘why on earth did I move to Argentina’, as I felt like I had totally answered that question, over and over again.

Now I seem to ‘suffer’ from the Empty Nest Syndrome, with kids that study abroad (that is, outside of Argentina), which forces me to travel more. (Poor me). My trips are so long that I start to wonder wether I am a tourist, an expat or a native myself. Although I still ‘live’ and totally ‘love’ Buenos Aires, I am quite happy in the other countries I have been spending my time. And that’s when I realized that I have actually become a Global Citizen. 

Global Citizen :

Noun. 1. A person that intentionally chooses to consider all countries as potential places to live, work, and play.
2. A person that can rationalize their life experience without undue consideration of national boundaries or cultural differences.

Fortunately my job as a photographer allows me to work from whatever place on earth, so there are no boundaries whatsoever. That’s when I thought it time to start sharing my experiences again, with whoever is interested in reading them.

Here’s to a new start!

PS feel free to comment, good or bad, I have always liked that!

(photo : globalisation : Belgian fries in Manhattan ©katti borré)