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Cairo
Times, Egypt, 19-10-2000
‘A severe case of schizophrenia’ would be a psychiatrist’s diagnosis when confronted with Brussels, the capital city of Belgium, sprawled over his couch. Over a beautifull springweekend Martin Stolk looks at the city’s multiple personality problem with a – sometimes morbid - twist.
In the middle of the Belgium heartland Brussels stretches widely and wildly over rolling hills and planes. While not as mindbogglingly big as Cairo, it is still a sizeable city for European standards. Even on a clear day from the top of Brussels main vantage point, the Atomium, it is difficult to see the edges of the city, though there are more reasons for that as just the city’s size. Boasting centuries old buildings as well as modern business and government centres, the city is a pleasure for people who like a challenge to the senses – of whom Caireens are ofcourse the supreme example.
Belgium has always been a country of contrasts, and sometimes downright division. Over the centuries the main point of strife has remained language. While part of the country speaks French, another part speaks Flemish (which is similar to the language of their northern neighbours, the Dutch) and yet another part speaks a dialect of German. Belgium’s languagestruggle has seen many – violent as well as non-violent - clashes over issues surrounding this basic divide. With the real language struggle a thing of the past, the question of cultural and economic differences remains. Compared to Flemish speaking Vlaanderen, French speaking Wallonia has become an impoverished province.
Within Belgium Brussels is a miniature representation of the state of the union as a whole. The city combines all Belgium’s contrasts, new and old, rich and poor. One will see great estates and villas for the rich as well as certain neighbourhoods that just as in Cairo could apply for the politically correct label of "lower income neighbourhood’’ with hammered-shut derilict buildings. On the risk of sounding politically dogmatic, it can be said that European economic high-flying has not only made it’s victims in the developing world. Also at home it has created impoverished ‘classes’ and slums – though in the west these are called ghetto’s.
Brussels’ split personalities are however clearest when one realizes the city’s many functions. Brussels is Capital of Europe. And of Belgium. And of the Brussels governate. It is the seat of not only these three governments but also of the Flemish and the Wallonian. And of the cultural representations of the French, the Flemish and the German speakers.
Ironically enough the building that was once considered the symbol par excellence of Belgian unity, the Atomium, has now become a new rallying point lifening up those old divisions again.
Situated on top of the Heizel-plateau the Atomium represents a 102.5 meter high iron atom – what we all remember as the element ‘Fe’ out of those horid secondary school science lessons. Made of what it represents the work of art is an ode to Belgium’s steel industry and was ment to be a symbol of progress. Remember, this was 1958, the year when Brussels hosted the World Expo and the Atomium was its star attraction. Consisting of nine balls of eighteen meters diameter and with interconnecting arms measuring twentynine meters in length, this embodiment of science practical lessons nevertheless remains a stupenduous architectural feat.
Maybe the inside of the Atomium was swanky in the fifties, but the nineties’ nintendo-generation will look frowning upon its retro look. Actually it is so dissappointing that people have been known to demand their money back – and gotten it, which is a good tip for impoverished shoestring travellers. Only four of the nine balls remain open to the public. The other five are closed because of long overdue repairs. The escalators have all broken down. The elevator to the topball used to be the fastest of Europe at five meters a second, nowadays its ‘speed’ tops out at 4.7 meters a second.
Further there is nothing interesting to see, except if you count a decrepit exhibition on ‘the Atomium in comic-strips’. The once splendid view of Brussels through the windows in the topball is hazy – thanks to that other legacy of the steelindustry: acid rain. To engineer A.H.J. Waterkeyn who designed the Atomium and still visits his magnus opus daily, it is not a joke anymore. Maintenance of the Atomium is a Hercules task. In the Belgian national daily ‘De Morgen’ Waterkeyn recently complained that "One needs a mountaineer to wash the windows." He should have thought of that before.
The Atomium needs money – lots of money – to renovate. Waterkeyn is quite hypocritical in that. He reeps all the royalties, but asks the government to foot the maintenance bill. Wild rescueplans have been launched. The Atomium was to be painted up to depict nine footballs for the European Championship. A cinema wanted to make it a movie complex, and an American computer company wanted to make the Atomium its headoffice, and - to the outrage of many - add a tenth ball.
But the proposal that caused the most controversy was that Vlaanderen wanted to buy the whole of it. And how can Belgium’s symbol of unity be solely owned by its rich northern province? Activists rallied to include the Atomium in Belgium’s schizophrenia: Every province should get to own three balls. For now the matter seems to be shelved indefinitily, but meanwhile Belgium’s pride and joy is no more the flagship it once was.
Next to the Atomium one can find a more morbid attraction, the Heizel stadium. The stadium was the scene of probably the worst soccer drama ever. On May 29, 1985, during the European Cup Winners final between Juventus and Liverpool, English fans started to fight the Italian fans. The Italians were crushed against a wall which subsequently collapsed, and caused a surge of panicking fans to try and scale the fences. Thirtynine footballfans – some of them young kids - died in the ensueing crush. Yours truly still remembers watching the drama and the reruns – and the reruns and the reruns – as a semi-innocent twelve-year old, putting him off footie for more as a decade. Now the stadium has been rebuilt and renamed into ‘King Boudewijn Stadium’. Only a memorial plate remembers of the disaster.
After these depressing experiences at Brussels’ Heizel-plateau, cruising around town with some heavy trance music on the carstereo worked miracles to elevate our spirits again. On top of that yours truly added some nice strong Belgium beers as he did not have to drive. Belgium is heaven for the honest beerlover. The hundreds of beers available makes any prospect of returning to Stella land appalling. Belgium’s beers range from the super sweet cherry beer Kriek (say a Fairouz with a twist) to the dark and heavy Rochefort 10 with an alcohol percentage of 11.3, a serious beer that does not need any twist as after four bottles it will surely send you crawling.
The best place to empty those splendid bottles of brewmanship is ofcourse Brussels’ Grote Markt – Grand Place for Francophiles. Lined with Gothic buildings dating as far back as the 15th century the Place is worth its status as a major tourist site. According to Brussels’ tourist guide it is in fact "by general consent the most beautiful square in Europe." Originally the buildings were the prestige headquarters of the Guilds – medieval unions of artisans and craftsmen. Now it’s all bars and restaurants, for the hungry tourist tired of snapping all those pics, or a good startingpoint for a good old fashioned bar crawl.
On one side of the Grand Place the old citypalace of the Belgian King stands in all its glory. And on the other side there is a beautifull Gothic church, but we seem no to be able to escape the twists. The church was originally build to be completely symmetrical, but alas! Due to a measuring mistake the entrance of the church, is quite a bit of the middle. One could interpret this as a religious statement saying that only God is perfect, but the architect did not agree. When he discovered his masterpiece was heavily offbalance, he could not stand the embarrasment and jumped off the highest tower, leaving himself a bloody mess on the cobble stones of the square.
Slightly upset yours truly decided to pass on one of Belgium’s culinairy traits. French Fries with Mussels. It was decided to instead dig into Brussels’ famous chocolates. Shops with exquisite hand made pralines can be found everywhere in the city. One good shop for testing them can be found in the street between the Grand Place and Brussels other major tourist attraction, Manneken Pis.
Manneken Pis – Boy Piss - is a bronze fountain of a small boy with his pants down "doing what comes naturally." The world famous statue is almost never left unclothed. Sponsors from your local football team to multinational coorporations have protected him against Europe’s cold. Manneken Pis his wardrobe already counts over 600 costumes. But the peeing six-year old is only half of the attraction.
After a good night in several pubs, yours truly found himself stumbling through the backalleys of downtown Brussels on the hand of his hostess for the final of his visit to the many sided town. Stuck away in the wall of a side alley, we found Brussels’ last twist - an ode to tenderness and reliability. The fountain of a peeing six-year old girl caught with her skirts up - Janneke Pis.