17 December, Wednesday:
No one knows how Brussels got started. There were no big abbeys here, no big trade routes, etc., but suddenly Brussels just started turning up in the historical records, and when it did start turning up, it was already important. None of these big-time Belgian historians seem to have any idea. Maybe it was aliens? The tree in our garden was pollarded today, as is the Belgian custom. That means that just about everything above head height was viciously chopped off. So now we have about a 7-foot trunk with a half dozen knobby branches sticking off it, and no signs of life. The tree was gorgeous and big with lots of leaves when we arrived, and now it looks like a sad skeleton. But we are assured that in the spring it will produce all sorts of shoots and leaves and become beautiful again. We did some marketing today, some desultory Christmas shopping, and went for another walk in the Forêt de Soignes.
18 December, Thursday:
This afternoon we drove to Gent for Frederik Buylaert’s “soutenance, the public defense of his doctoral thesis. Marc is Frederik’s sponsor, and Frederik was a student of Beagle’s when he was at Columbia getting a Master’s degree. The defense was in a big room, and there were at least 125 people there, including all the usual suspects, plus An Kint’s father, Frederik’s parents (who we had met before, both in NYC and in Gent), etc. The jury consisted of Beagle, Walter, Wim Blockmans, a German man named Werner Paravicini (doesn’t sound very German to me), and a Belgian professor who I didn’t know. Unlike in Brussels, Marc couldn’t speak until after the defense was over since he was Frederik’s sponsor. Beagle went first, and spoke and asked questions in English. Frederik responded in English. Paravicini asked questions in French, Frederik responded in English, and Paravicini responded in English. The others asked questions in Dutch/Flemish and Frederik responded in Dutch/Flemish. It seemed to me that the questioning was much tougher than was the case earlier in the week in Brussels, particularly Wim’s questions. When Paravicini asked, in French, why Frederik had not had spent more time (actually any time) in his thesis discussing what was going on in the French speaking part of Belgium, Wallonia, Walter rolled his eyes, and Frederik responded in English. As our Flemish friends have told us, the French speaking part of Belgium was never part of Belgium (history to the contrary) and in any event never deserved to be. It used to be that the French speaking part of Belgium was the richest and the French-speakers looked down their noses as the Flemish peasants who, according to the French-speakers, spoke a crude Dutch dialect. Now the Flemish –speaking part of Belgium is the richest part and the tables have turned. It is now the Flemish-speakers who are looking down their noses at the French-speakers. As the Prime Minister of Belgium…a Flammand with a French-speaking father and now in deep trouble over the Fortis affair…once said, the reason that the people in the French speaking part of Belgium don’t learn to speak Dutch is that they are stupid. He got in a little trouble for that. Of course the real French look down their noses at all Belgians, French-speaking or not. Moving on…During Frederik’s defense there was much less talk about what a wonderful person Frederik was and how wonderful his thesis was, and more criticism, pointing out weaknesses, etc. There was also a quite a lot of “why didn’t you pursue this point further” type of questioning, which seemed a little strange to me since the thesis was already 500+ pages long and had an accompanying CD just for footnotes and citations. I think there is a difference between the French and Flemish/Dutch styles…the French are more flowery and less direct, while the Flemish/Dutch style is to be more direct and blunt. Everyone actually thought Frederik’s thesis was a real triumph, and he was awarded his doctorate, although with less ceremony than was the case in Brussels…the jury and faculty members left the room, came back about 5 minutes later, announced that Frederik had passed and everyone clapped. Then Marc gave a speech that was evidently very funny because everyone laughed. Unlike in Brussels, there were no academic robes (which the Belgians call togas…every time they say that, I think of Animal House), no fancy diploma, etc. But we did have a ” pot de thèse,” a big drinks party with champagne (of course), wine, and all sorts of Belgian hors d’oeuvres. Simon, Marc and Thérèse’s son, could not make it to the defense, but he did manage to make it to the pot de thèse, as did many other people at the University of Gent. After drinks Frederik and his parents treated the members of the jury, their spouses and a few friends/colleagues to a wonderful dinner in a restaurant looking out on one of the main canals in Gent. It was a beautiful site, and a great meal. Then we drove home.
19 December, Friday:
Last night on the way to Gent I filled the car with gas for the first time since the first day we picked it up, over a month ago. We had gone 862 kilometers (536 miles) and could have gone another 100k or so before the tank was empty. According to the on-board computer and my own calculations, we have been getting something like 38-39 miles per gallon. Not bad considering we have spent a lot of time driving in the city and in traffic jams trying to get out of Brussels. Today was a very sunny day, and the temperature was around 9 degrees Celsius (48F), so we ditched our other plans and got on the number 94 tram, went all the way to the end which is also the Herrmann-Debroux Metro stop, the last stop on the 1A Metro line, and went for a walk. We walked past some pretty lakes with lots of ducks, and then went into Forêt de Soignes, in a part we hadn’t been in before, and walked for a couple of hours. There were a few people walking dogs, a few people on mountain bikes, a few runners, a few people on horseback and a few people collecting firewood, but otherwise we had the woods pretty much to ourselves. The forêt is very nice. It is pretty flat, with lots of paths and tiny roads going pretty much in a straight line in every direction, so you have a lot of choices. The forêt has some very big trees, but not too many are very old, and it is clear that it is pretty heavily “managed” for wood. In this portion there were plenty of signs of logging, as well as small groves where new trees had been planted. When it started getting dark we walked to the village of Watermael-Boisfort, got on the 94 tram again, and went home. Riding on the tram is fun. Trams move much faster than automobile traffic because in some places trams have their own portion of the road that is forbidden for anyone but taxis and trams to use, plus there are special traffic lights for trams, and finally because trams have the absolute right of way. If a car gets in the way of a tram the tram driver blasts his horn until the car gets out of the way. And if they don’t get out of the way, well…the tram has the absolute right of way. We saw an example of that the other day. A woman driving a Mercedes had apparently challenged a tram’s right of way and got an expensive education. She lost the right front side of her car, including the wheel, and the tram was apparently unscathed…and unconcerned.
20 December, Saturday:
Today was warm but foggy and grey and wet. Good thing we took our walk yesterday. We did some pre-Christmas shopping at the market at Place Flagey and the Delhaise, and then walked around Brussels trying to figure out what we should show the boys of Brussels when they are here. Then we came home and had tea and went to gym. There was a lot on TV about the latest political scandal which is unfolding in Belgium. It seems that some members of the current government had inappropriately interfered in the Fortis affair (involving a bank that had to be rescued by the Belgians and the French). The government has submitted its resignation, and now it is up to the king to figure out what to do. As far as I can tell, most Belgians are sort of delighted to see that their government continues to be hopelessly corrupt and ineffective. One result of all of this appears to be that Fortis is in trouble again. Since Beagle has her checking account there, perhaps she should be worried! When I had had enough of that I watched ski jumping on German TV. My other choice was a very serious pool match on English TV. I miss Saturday afternoon sports on American TV. What do Belgians do on a rainy Saturday afternoon? Actually I know the answer to that question. Based on my observation this afternoon, I think they all go to bars and drink beer.
21 December, Sunday:
William and John and Vic arrived this morning, so I got up well before the crack of dawn (which is about 8:30 AM in Brussels these days) and drove to the airport to meet them. We got home, had breakfast, and then went out for a walking tour of Brussels, ending up at La Becasse, an old Brussels restaurant down a narrow alley off a busy touristy street that is the outlet of a brewery where you can get a simple lunch and pitchers of various beers (mostly lambics). We then went home and everyone napped. We went to dinner at l’Ultime Atom…steak frites mostly. People were tired. Beagle has still not yet gotten used to the idea that doors in Belgium open in, as opposed to out. At every door we came to, she tugged mightily until I reminded her that she had to push, not pull. Isn’t there a cartoon somewhere that shows a child at a “School For The Gifted” showing a kid pushing hard on a door that has a big sign saying “Pull”?
22 December, Monday:
Skim milk and eggs are my topics of the day. It is almost impossible to get skim milk in Belgium. They have something they call demi-ecrémé or Halfvolle, which tastes like cream to me and is probably 2 – 3% fat. This comes both in the form of fresh milk and also in those little square boxes that have been irradiated with gamma rays or something and can last for decades without refrigeration. When you look in the fresh milk place at the supermarket, there are always only a half-dozen bottles of demi-ecrémé left, whereas there are dozens of bottles of regular milk. One might deduce something about consumer buying preferences from this, but that does not appear to have occurred to the buyers at Delhaise. Everywhere you go it is the same…there appears to have been a run on demi-ecrémé, leaving that portion of the case almost empty, while the regular milk case is full. Today, however, I found actual skim milk in an Express, one of those mini-supermarkets. Admittedly, it is in the long-life irradiated form, but I snapped up a case of it before they ran out. While we are on the subject of food, did you know that the Belgians and the French don’t believe in refrigerating eggs? They just have them on the shelves like cold cereal. Julia Childs discovered this about the French years ago, and scolded them unmercifully for such backwards and health-hazardous practices, but the French paid no attention. Neither did the Belgians. So enough of this filler. Today we took the boys and Vic to Gare du Midi where they were getting a train for Amsterdam. They will spend 2 days in Amsterdam and then return to Brussels on Christmas Eve. We then bought some chocolates for Aurélie, our French teacher, and delivered them to Amira (the school) along with some CDs she had loaned us. The school was shut, but totally by chance Aurélie was there doing some work so we exchanged Christmas wishes, returned her CDs and gave her the chocolates. She says that Belgian chocolates are like a drug for her. We then went to a very nice bookstore nearby called Filigranes and had lunch. Of course you can get lunch in a Belgian bookstore. Filigranes is crowded, chaotic, and has a piano player who entertains you while you eat your sandwich and read books. Unusually for this part of town, it is open 7 days a week. Later on I went to the Post Office, which had been shut for several weeks. The old post office had thick Plexiglas windows behind which the postal clerks lurked, telling jokes to each other, drinking coffee, and occasionally shouting at the patrons on the other side of the counters through little holes drilled in the Plexiglas. It sort of felt like you were trying to buy a bottle of Thunderbird on the Bowery…or for that matter, like going to the Post Office on W. 83rd St. The new post office, however, is a totally different matter. No more Plexiglas, just open counters behind which the postal clerks sit and tell jokes to each other, drink coffee and occasionally snarl at customers on the other side of the counter. The process is the same…you take a number and wait for an hour until your number flashes on the screen and then go to the counter indicated on the screen. While waiting I saw Aurélie again…the post office is not particularly close to the school, but is one of the few left in Brussels, and thus she has few choices. I had to send a big envelope to the US, and needed it to get there quickly. I was told I had 3 options; (1) I could send it Express, which would take a couple of days and cost €33, (2) I could send it Special Priority which cost something like €5 and meant that the recipient had to sign for the envelope, and (3) I could send it Regular Priority (otherwise called airmail) which was no different from Special Priority except that a signature wasn’t required and it cost €2.70 and would get there by the end of the week. Hmmm.
23 December, Tuesday:
Today was another beautiful day. It was cold, with blue skies and sun. We went to the Musées Royaux des Beaux Arts to see some medieval art, but initially got waylaid by a special exhibit on “COBRA,” a revolutionary abstract expressionism “movement” that existed from 1948 – 1951. The movement was founded by artists from COpenhagenBRusselsandAmsterdam (hence “COBRA”). Needless to say, the movement was founded in Paris. The guides to the exhibit said that the movement was very important, but was not known at all outside of Europe. I understand why. After spending a while at the COBRA exhibition, we searched for the medieval art section of the museum. We were told the modern art section of the museum was closed because of a lack of staff, and that the area that normally exhibited medieval art was closed for renovations, but that a portion of the medieval collection was displayed in the “Ancient Art” section. Having absorbed this news, we then were told that the museum was about to close, since it closed for lunch between 12 and 2 every day. How this affected the business at the museum cafeteria we never found out, since we went for a walk. We walked to the Marolles, which is a very old (and quite poor) section of the city which is “down the hill” from the Palais de Justice. When I say “down the hill,” I mean it. To get there from the Palais de Justice you literally take an elevator down. We wandered about for a bit, and ended up at “Place du Jeu des Balles” where there is a huge flea market that is apparently there every day. There were hundreds of vendors, each of whom had their wares spread out on rugs. They had everything…computers, shoelaces, light bulbs, chairs, clothes, paintings, bicycle wheels, etc. You name it, they had it. Beagle complained that I didn’t spend any time looking at all the stuff in the flea market. My position was that there wasn’t any point in looking at stuff I knew I wasn’t going to buy. Besides, what I was really interested in was what the whole scene looked like, not whether they had a pair of shoelaces that matched the ones I had (which are still perfectly good). So some of us looked at junk and some of us contemplated the scene. We wandered a bit more in the neighborhood and found lots of public housing, a police station, and hundreds of junk/antique shops. As we got closer to the Sablon, the junk stores started to look more like expensive antique stores, and I started walking faster. At the Sablon we stopped at a café. Beagle had her usual salade niçoise. Since it was cold out and I was feeling skinny, I had the stoemp du jour with sausage. Excellent. Then we went back to the museum (running into Claire right in front of the museum…Brussels is a small place!) and spent a good bit of the afternoon looking at the medieval art. Even though I guess only a portion of the collection was on display, they had a lot, and it was very interesting. Then back home, then a trip to the Delhaise to do a big pre-Christmas shopping. We had pre-ordered a capon, which is supposed to be very good, and which surprisingly cost about twice as much as a turkey. We also tried to buy Brussels sprouts, but interestingly enough, they were all out of them. Imagine…no Brussels sprouts in Brussels.
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