Expats and Belgians: living happily ever after?

The ancient palace of the dukes of Burgundy in Brussels

17th century view on the ancient palace of the dukes of Burgundy in Brussels by Jan van der Heyden and Adriaen van de Velde. The palace on the Coudenberg was the quintessential meeting place for European diplomats and a true expat heaven for centuries before it was completely destroyed by fire in 1731. Its foundations can still be visited today in the Museum on the Coudenberg.

When The Bulletin (for those who don’t know The Bulletin, it’s the first, best known and largest of the media targeting the Belgian expat community) featured the results of the Expat Explorer Survey undertaken by HSBC, the reactions on social media were far more interesting than the results of the survey itself. Many of the issues discussed on social media weren’t even part of the survey and had nothing whatsoever to do with the article featured in The Bulletin. As the comments on social media demonstrated, people are often bewildered by the culture that surrounds them, even if that culture is not so very different than the one they left behind.

First of all, HSBC is a global banking company and represents the financial interests of thousands of expats worldwide. So its decision to undertake an ‘Expat Explorer Survey’ is not so strange. Expats in 39 countries were for instance asked to reflect on financially related categories, like entrepreneurship and career growth, next to issues like health or safety. The Bulletin discussed the results for Belgium and for categories such as culture, integration or social life, we Belgians seemed to score quite badly. So on certain social media, expats and Belgians alike tried to find an explanation for what seemed to be a somewhat surprising problem: could it be that expats are not at all happy in this country?

What was clear from the first comment, was that misunderstandings rule among expats and ‘locals’ (which I personally find a bit of an offensive word to be honest) in Belgium. People discussed the Belgians’ lack of hospitality to foreigners, which is odd, considering Brussels happily houses some of the world’s most powerful international institutions and is home to quite a large expat community. Expat comments lamented the fact that Belgians apparently don’t want to be more involved in that community, which is even more odd, considering that some Belgians joined in the conversation and were thus clearly very much involved. One comment even suggested that the Belgians’ lack of enthusiasm had its roots in history: all those ‘foreign’ powers that had once ‘occupied’ Belgium must have made the Belgians weary of the expat community here.

Frustrations about the lack of ‘local’ friends, about a clear lack in the general understanding of Belgian culture and history to even frustrations about the ‘dull’ climate and generally ‘boring people’, all point to the fact that one huge issue is always overlooked in any survey on expat life. People are never interrogated on their actual knowledge of ‘local’ history and culture, nor on their ‘cultural wellbeing’. Personally I believe that the notion of a cultural wellbeing is an often overlooked, yet crucial factor in determining people’s happiness – whether they are expats or not.

Royal palace in Brussels

Postcard of the Place Royale in Brussels ca. 1825-1860. This 18th century design was commissioned by duke Charles of Lorraine, governor-general of the Austrian Netherlands, for his fellow Habsburg ‘office holders’ and ‘diplomats’. In other words: built by an expat for other expats.

Culture is often interpreted in the sense of ‘participating in cultural life’, ‘visiting museums and exhibitions’, or of ‘getting to know the local cuisine’. But a culture is much, much more than just the outward, organised translation of customs and traditions that have been evolving for over a thousand years. It’s all very good and fine to visit all of Brussels’ museums – and don’t get me wrong, some of the finest museums in the world are located in Brussels, so by all means keep on visiting them – , but this will not help you one bit in getting to know more Belgians, or in understanding Belgian culture. True cultural awareness is not found in museums, it’s hidden in centuries of history. Yet of all the comments I read on social media, only one actually referred to history. It seems history, or rather a deeper understanding of certain historical trends, is not automatically linked to people’s ability to relate to a country’s general culture. Am I the only one to find this quite baffling?

On the other hand, both expats and Belgians pointed to the importance of learning the local language. In this case, it means expats have a pick of three languages, Dutch, French and German, the official languages in Belgium. But is it really true that expats will make friends faster or will integrate faster if they speak French in Brussels or Dutch in Gent? I don’t know of any survey – let alone a decent scientific study – that has investigated a direct link between knowledge of the language and the ease or speed in making local or expat friends.

One thing is certain however, ‘language’ is a key issue in Belgium. The whole country’s political, judicial and cultural system is based on the issue of language and the language barrier. Much more than actually speaking Dutch or French, the idea of language in itself is a key defining issue of Belgian identity. Personally, I speak English with my expat friends and I don’t really care if their French or Dutch are good enough to order a bread at the bakery. Even more, bakers in the most remote villages will probably happily sell you a bread in any language of your choosing as long as you pay for it. And as long as you know, and (make an effort to) understand that this does not mean the baker doesn’t care about language. In Belgium, language is more than speaking Dutch, French or German, it is speaking our culture. That is the real reason why most Belgians with a basic knowledge of English will easily switch to that language when you have so bravely tried to address them in French or Dutch. By trying to speak our language you have acknowledged the cultural importance of language, and in return you are ‘rewarded’. Only true language purists will keep on insisting that everyone who lives in Belgium – however briefly – will have to speak the language perfectly.

Yet in my opinion language does not account for the majority of what I have termed the ‘cultural malaise’ some expats seem to be experiencing in my home country. I’m not suggesting expats in Belgium experience anything as serious as a culture shock. After all, who is really shocked to be drinking the best beer in the world, eating the best chocolate in the world or seeing some of the finest historical buildings in the world? Enough with the clichés, Belgium is also an incredibly complicated country, not just because of a language barrier that has existed for nearly 2.000 years, and not even because most people – including Belgians – really don’t realise how many governments this country actually has.

King Leopold I, King of the Belgians

Handsome king Leopold I was probably the country’s first expat. After his young wife the princess Charlotte of Wales died, he was invited to become king of the Belgians.

Over the course of its history, Belgium has played a major part in the development of what we could call a ‘modern industry’, its ruling dynasty at one point managed to control half of the monarchies in Europe and its political, economic and cultural traditions are much, much older than 1830. Its territory functioned as a true cultural crossroads for at least half a millennium, before the 19th century trend of creating nation states had gotten a hold on it. Sadly, it’s fascinating history is often overshadowed by its surreal political situation today. And that political situation – and some historians will probably disagree with me on this one – is also much more than the product of half a century’s full of ideological Flemish-Walloon opposition.

In any case, it’s not that I’m arguing that if expats had a better knowledge of its history Belgium would suddenly overtake Singapore in the Expat Explorer Survey’s bid for popularity. But I am convinced that with a better understanding of history, people’s cultural wellbeing would improve. And I equally believe that if we take better care of people’s cultural wellbeing, their general happiness will improve as well.

This is what a lunar eclipse feels like

Lunar eclipse of 28 September 2015

The lunar eclipse and blood moon as seen in Belgium on 28 September 2015

By now your Facebook and/or Instagram feeds have probably been flooded with photographs of last night’s lunar eclipse and blood moon.

I just couldn’t resist adding my own impressions to the multitude of beautiful images already out there.

Lunar eclipse around 3.55 a.m. on 28 September 2015

Lunar eclipse as seen in Belgium around 3.55 a.m. on 28 September 2015

Last night over dinner we debated if we were going to get up at night to see it or not. The offspring was particularly adamant in stressing the importance of the event, given the fact that she would have to wait another 18 years to see it, if we wouldn’t grant her this. Considering waiting 5 minutes is already a challenge for most 7 year-olds, we decided that she was actually right. Then again this is also just the thing we do.

Lunar eclipse around 4 a.m.

Lunar eclipse as seen in Belgium around 4 a.m.

Like the time we decided to go on a midnight picknick/bike ride, because there was a slight chance of witnessing the northern lights. Bad luck, it was cloudy that night, but we had great fun eating half cold hot dogs under an old oak tree (it was less fun when next morning I discovered I had mustard dripping in an inside pocket of my backpack).

Total eclipse around 4h11 a.m.

Total lunar eclipse as seen in Belgium around 4h11 a.m.

Anyway, last night we awoke spontaneously at 3h45 a.m., went to get the offspring out of bed (which went surprisingly easy), cuddled up under a warm blanket and drank hot chocolate while sitting in front of the open window looking up at a cloudless night sky. The 30 minutes we spent like this amply made up for an otherwise annoyingly busy weekend and we happily went back to sleep.

Lunar eclipse around 4h20 a.m.

Lunar eclipse as seen in Belgium around 4h20 a.m.

 

Keeping busy: what I’ve been doing in the past few weeks

Leaving the harbour of Ostend (Belgium).

Leaving the harbour of Ostend (Belgium).

These past few weeks have flown by so quickly. I finished editing a book, spent about a month travelling in July/August and have just started my own business. I don’t even know where to start…

The book I’m talking about is actually a volume I edited with a Dutch colleague on the dynastic identity of early modern aristocratic families, which will normally be published in December of this year by Ashgate publishers. If you want to know more about it, you can find details on their website. It took us about 4 years to finish it, I don’t think either one of us imagined it to take that long. Not that this in itself is an exception in academia, my husband is waiting on a publication to come out which he wrote about 8 years ago…. So things could be worse 😉

The good thing about finishing a project, any project, is the mental rest that comes with it. After I sent my final e-mail this Saturday,  I felt completely exhausted. I couldn’t think of anything else, I just wanted to go to sleep early. I’m still really tired strangly enough, but it also feels as though my head is clearing up and new ideas are slowly filling it up again. That feels so wonderful!

I need that space too, because I have decided to become an entrepreneur! Not that this is a new idea. This is something that I’ve been thinking about for ages. It was more of a nagging feeling I had for years and years that I needed to set up something for myself. The only problem was that I was never able to settle on just one idea 😉 I’ve recently come to the realisation that I am what is called a ‘creative generalist’. I seldom have less than 10 ideas in my head, rarely think about less than 5 books to write, and I am bored disturbingly easy (and quickly).  With every job I’ve done came boredom, not after 10 years, but usually after about 6 months. This is something I was never able to talk about, because most people don’t seem to understand this or expect you to do the same job for at least 5 years. Oh hell on earth, the same routine for 5 years or more?

The only thing that has kept me interested is history research, and thankfully it still does. Which is probably why I decided to start as a historical consultant, although that doesn’t even begin to describe all the things I want to do. As soon as I get a (temporary) website going, I’ll write more on this.

And I had such an amazing vacation! My husband gives lectures on board of cruise ships during summer and this means our family vacations are largely spent on board ships, visiting beautiful cities or enjoying the scenery. We were on a Russian cruise in July travelling from Moscow to St-Petersburg, and in August we cruised the Mediterranean. I could not possibly put all of those experiences and impressions in one blog post, so again, more on this later.

Until next time!

Conferences, coffee and jolly good company

Humboldt University

Humboldt University at Unter den Linden in Berlin, Germany: the location of the latest conference I went to in March of this year.

 

Contrary to what one might think, the best thing about conferences is not the exchange of knowledge. The best thing is meeting new people and catching up with old friends.

 

I once heard say that the whole idea of attending conferences is old-fashioned. Most companies have long ago decided conference calls are much more efficient, cheaper and faster. Since a couple of years, the internet has taken over, Skype is a wonderful thing, TED-talks inspire people all over the world.

So scholars who still travel around the globe to listen to a paper they might just as well read at home, are apparently completely out of date. Although I personally do feel we might want to “update” the whole conference experience a little bit, people who think the concept is obsolete simply do not get it.

 

Yes, it is much faster to read an article than to plough through session after session, from the early morning until the early evening. I’ve seen people drifting off to sleep more than once. Yet the best research ideas are often born over a cup of coffee next to the book exhibition or over dinner with colleagues.

The whole atmosphere of a (good) conference puts you in a certain frame of mind, it creates a certain vibe. You’re temporarily liberated from dull administrative tasks or tedious housework and your brain can focus entirely on just one thing: creative thinking. And that is incredible.

 

Personally, a good conference gets me high, a feeling that lingers on for weeks after I’m back. I’m willing to admit that might be just me. But no conference call or Skype talk can replace what happens when a group of likeminded people get the chance to interact. I wonder what would happen if scholars would no longer get the chance to meet colleagues from halfway across the globe. Wouldn’t we live in a much poorer (research) world?

Religious mysteries (and a hint of surrealism) in Belgium: the relics of the Blessed Idesbald

Engraving of the Blessed Idesbald

Good Blessed Idesbald, patron saint of fishermen, sailors and the Flemish coast

Consternation in the newspapers and a mayor speaking on national radio about the relics of a long dead saint: no, this is not the plot of a new Dan Brown mystery novel. This is something actually happening in Belgium right now.

So, what is this about? In the Onze-Lieve-Vrouw-ter-Potterie church in Bruges the lead coffin of the locally venerated Blessed Idesbald was opened and scientifically examined. It was more or less expected to find the relics of this 12th century abbot of the Cistercian abbey of Onze-Lieve-Vrouw-ter-Duinen in Koksijde inside it. The thing is, research has now shown that these remains actually belong to somebody who died roughly between 1470 and 1623. Conclusion? These are not the relics of the Blessed Idesbald!

The scandal! The mockery as well, as a gloating mayor of Koksijde proudly announced on the radio that in Bruges, they had been worshipping the ‘wrong’ relics for centuries. Did I spot some old rivalry between the cities of Koksijde and Bruges? Could it be that it had long been a frustration of the good people of Koksijde that ‘their’ saint (actually Idesbald was only beatified, not canonized) was buried amid these arrogant folks from Bruges?

We can only guess at what sentiment inspired the mayor. Since relics, or at least the 17th century veneration of relics is within my research area (yes, I have a profound interest in dead people, as all historians do), I feel the need to explain a few things.

Firstly, it does not matter one bit that these relics are not ‘authentic’. On the website of Ter Duinen (unfortunately the full text is only given in Dutch, whereas information on the colloquium about this discovery amongst others is also given in English) it is stated that the discovery “raises questions about the centuries’ long devotion for these relics in Bruges”. It does not.

According to the catholic church, what Catholics worship when they pray to these relics, are not the relics in themselves. Even more, they shouldn’t even be ‘worshipping’ a saint anyway… A saint, or in this case, a ‘blessed’, is not god. The only ‘being’ a Catholic is allowed to worship is god. Hence, a saint is nothing more than a ‘conduit’. You actually expect or ask something from god and you invoke the ‘help’ of a saint to get it. Why would you do that? A saint is somebody that has received god’s special grace, a person that was recognised and touched by god, usually because that person lived a ‘saintly’ life, or was martyred, and often because miracles happened around his or her grave, relics, or alternatively, statue (remember what I said about statues in my previous post?). Because of this, these saints have a, let’s say, personal and privileged relation to god. This relation enables them to plead with god for the saviour of whomever is invoking their help.

Complicated isn’t it?

This means that it doesn’t matter what you pray to, as long as you invoke the saints’ help to reach god, who will ultimately decide if you get what you want or not. If you like to pray in front of a truly hideous neon coloured plastic statue of the Virgin, then that’s fine too. By the way, I have no special interest in Bruges, nor Koksijde, nor good old Idesbald. I only get annoyed at stupidities (this happens regularly by the way). In any case, purely religiously speaking, these nice people from Bruges can go ahead and worship ‘their’ – now completely mysterious – relics for another couple of centuries. God doesn’t care.

Now, historically speaking, what happened? Again, on the website of Ter Duinen, they are amazed at the discovery, since historical documents were adamant about the identification of these relics. How could they have been wrong? Call Dan Brown! There must be a catholic plot in here somewhere! The historical documents they are talking about are probably the 17th century reports about the first discovery of Idesbald’s relics in 1623 and the interest the Infanta Isabella took in them. Moreover, it seems that poor Idesbald was reinterred in Bruges in 1894, so I suppose there are a lot of reports documenting this event. Now, I cannot speak for the 19th century, but I can speak for the 17th.

You see, I work on archival documents a 17th century duchess left behind, and what do you know, she loved to collect relics! So I have several of these documents, usually from high ranking church officials (think bishops, even the pope himself in some cases) who all state that the particular relics the pious old duchess just bought for an insane amount of money are without doubt of a said saint, martyr, whatever. She was especially fond of her relics of the 11.000 Virgins, who never even existed. Just to say, it might not be the best idea to trust these documents? In defence of these (sometimes ridiculously pious, excuse my French) 17th century bishops: how would they know if these relics were authentic or not???

They usually did try very hard to find out the truth, but without modern technology, who was to say how old a body or a sack of bones actually were? To make matters worse, under church floors coffins were often stacked one atop of the other. After a few centuries, these coffins had all shifted, some coffins had long been decayed, making an identification almost impossible. If they had to rely on reports of even older periods identifying the exact burial place of an abbot dead for 400 years, all they could do at best, was guess, and hope, and rely on their faith. Now, I don’t know the circumstances of this case in detail, only what newspapers (not really known for their accuracy maybe?) have reported and what it says on the website of the Abbey of Ter Duinen. But I cannot believe that any historian would accept these “historical documents” at face value.

And then there were politics involved. 17th century politics were all about religion. These are the Low Countries, there is a war going on, in essence a war between Catholics and Protestants. The Infanta (or Archduchess) Isabella is ruling the Southern Netherlands (more or less nowadays Belgium only a lot bigger). She is the Infanta, meaning a princess of Spain, and an Archduchess of Austria, a Habsburg, a zealous Catholic, battling to recatholocize her territories, which are now caught up in one of the most devastating wars Europe has ever known: the Thirty Years’ War (and she is also one of my favourite people in history but that’s a detail). I cannot even begin to list all the relics they ‘found’ (Isabella herself had the largest collection of relics in the Low Countries), the bodies of martyrs they tried to ‘save’ from these heretics overrunning old Catholic territories. And along comes abbot Idesbald, and miraculous healings start to happen…

It took the church another 200 years to get Idesbald beatified, and then they never followed up on that to get him canonized. In essence, this is a locally venerated person, of which relics were supposedly found in the 17th century. Miracles started to happen only after the discovery of these 17th century relics. If these are the same relics that were later transported to Bruges to be reinterred in the church Onze-Lieve-Vrouw-ter-Potterie, and if miracles only happened around these relics, than it seems the people of Bruges have the right relics after all 😉 So, dear mayor of Koksijde, chill a little…

In any case, my little intervention is of course not directed at the scientists studying this corpse and the multitude of graves found in Koksijde some years ago. The scientific importance of this find cannot be underestimated. Investigations like this and the one that was reported in the newspapers a few days ago, are hugely important. Without thorough research like this, with the investment in time and money that this calls for, our understanding of our own past will remain fragmentary at best. So yeah for the scientists! And yeah for the investors!

And a big hooray for history of course 😉

Travel Tip: Processions in Belgium

Hanswijk procession in Mechlin

The procession in honour of Our-Lady-of-Hanswijk in Mechlin

 

Going to see processions might be an unlikely travel tip. However, if you want to get to know the ‘real’ culture of Belgium, it’s not enough to eat chocolate and drink beer. No matter how secularised Belgian society might seem today, religion still plays an important, albeit somewhat hidden, role. Alright, I’ll be completely honest, at the ‘kermesse’ following these processions we do drink a lot of beer, and eat fries, and drink some more, and eat some chocolate…

A few weeks ago on 10 May I went to see the Hanswijk procession in the city of Mechlin (Mechelen in Dutch or Malines in French). The Hanswijk procession, or Procession in the honour of Our-Lady-of-Hanswijk, is reported to be the eldest procession in Belgium, dating from the 13th century.

 

Hanswijk Procession

Heralding the start of the procession. Blue and white: the colours of the Virgin.

 

Its origins lie in the devotion for a statue of the Virgin Mary, which supposedly ‘chose’ to stay in Mechlin around the year 988. Although the devotion itself for Our-Lady-of-Hanswijk – as it was subsequently called – started much earlier, the processions with certainty started around 1272 and are still going out every year on the Sunday before the Feast of the Ascension . Every 25 years there is a jubilee year, in which the Ommegang is also celebrated. The last one was held in 2013, with king Philip as an honoured guest, so you will have to wait another 23 years to see that again!

The devotion for the Virgin in the form of various miraculous images or statues frequently shows striking similarities. A good example of this is for instance the statue of Our-Lady-of-Scherpenheuvel (or Montaigu in French) which hung inside an oak, and which played an important political role against the backdrop of the religious troubles of the 16th century. Miraculous healings in Scherpenheuvel were frequently reported around the turn of the 17th century and were quickly picked up by the catholic rulers in their attempt to fight back Protestantism. The same connection between the Virgin and an oak tree was made in the village of – what was later to be called – Foy-Notre-Dame. A statue of the Virgin was found inside an oak tree by a carpenter in 1609. There too a lively pilgrimage culture emerged, as like in Scherpenheuvel. In the case of Mechlin, the statue of the Virgin was linked to the river Dijle, an important river for the city’s trade network. Although you wouldn’t guess it today, Mechlin was actually an important harbour city. That a miraculous statue was brought to Mechlin in a boat is thus not surprising.

 

Hanswijk Procession

The boat that carried the miraculous statue of the Virgin to the city of Mechlin

 

The Basilica of Hanswijk is a builing dating from the 17th century, it was designed by the well-known sculptor-turned-architect Lucas Faydherbe. His presence is felt in almost every church in Mechlin. The Basilica is also well worth a visit.

 

Hanswijk Procession

Model of the Basilica of Hanswijk

 

The procession itself departs from the city centre, in the Keizerstraat, and ends at the Basilica. It consists of several representations – or “tableaux vivants” – of scenes in the Old as well as the New Testament, followed by a folkloric depiction of the Burgundian and Habsburg courts (which had a strong connection to the city of Mechlin). There was one awkward moment when the tableau vivant recounting the birth of Christ showed Christ having an older brother. Or maybe the older boy was Christ, in which case he had a younger brother, or maybe the older boy was John the Baptist (who was decidedly not present at the birth of Christ) and the younger child was Christ, or…

 

Hanswijk Procession

Those retched Romans…

 

Hanswijk Procession

And of course Margaret of Austria was also present.

 

Towards the end of the procession the shrine with the relics of Saint-Rumbold, an Irish or Scottish saint who was martyred near Mechlin, was prominently carried through the streets of Mechlin.

Hanswijk Procession

The shrine of Saint-Rumbold

 

Hanswijk Procession

The statue of Our-Lady-of-Hanswijk

 

Finally the most important element of the procession, the Monstrance holding the Eucharist, was carried beneath a canopy of state, heralding the end of the procession.

 

Hanswijk Procession

The monstrance

 

All in all, this is a notable event and well worth a visit, although it’s not the best known procession in Belgium. Other processions that are a must-see for tourists or for people possibly staying a bit longer (I’m looking at you expats!) are:

 

  • Easter Monday each year: the Horse procession of Hakendover dating from Medieval times. In the small village of Hakendover near the city of Tienen thousands of people witness this spectacular event when hundreds of horses gallop through a field to be blessed.
  • Feast of the Ascension, every year (next on on 5 May 2016): The Holy Blood procession in Bruges, since 2009 UNESCO World Heritage, in which the relics of the Holy Blood of Christ are venerated. Unfortunately it was cancelled this year due to bad weather. Admittedly, if we were to count all the relics of Christ circulating on the planet, our Saviour would have at least 24 heads and 37 liters of blood. That being said, the blood in Bruges is authentic, of course it is, it’s Belgian.
  • Feast of the Holy Trinity, this year on Sunday 31 May (Oops! Just missed this one!): The ‘Doudou’ or Procession du Car d’Or in the city of Mons, this year’s cultural capital of Europe. It involves a golden chariot being pushed up a hill and people fighting dragons. Need I say more?
  • 31 May 2020, every ten years: the Ros Beiaard in Dendermonde, featuring one of the most challenging conditions, namely to find four brothers to play the ‘Heemskinderen’. UNESCO World Heritage. The poor kids can hardly walk after the procession, but hey, they will be honoured for the rest of their lives… You’ll have to wait another five years for this one, but if by chance you travel to Belgium in 2020, make sure you see it 😉
  • Sunday on or after the Feast of Saint-Peter and Saint-Paul (June 29): the Fisherman’s procession and the Blessing of the Sea in Ostend. As usual the city of Ostend apparently does not consider this a tourist event, so I haven’t been able to find a website. But trust me, it exists.
  • 26 July 2015: The Penitential Procession in Veurne. This is a procession dating from the 17th century, with very severe and typically counter reformatory elements (their website unfortunately is a complete mess), like people dressed as Capuchin monks (no these are not members of the Ku Klux Clan). If you want to feel thoroughly depressed, but very pious, go and see it!
  • August 2017, every seven years: the ‘Virga Jesse Ommegang’ in the city of Hasselt in the province of Limburg. Strictly speaking ‘Virga Jesse’ means ‘branch of the Tree of Jesse‘, so it does not refer to the Virgin herself, although a 14th century statue of the Virgin (the Virga Jesse Virgin) does play the starring role in the procession.
  •  From May to October, every year: Les Marches de l’Entre-Sambre-et-Meuse (south of the city of Charleroi). UNESCO World Heritage. 15 different processions in honour of various saints form this ensemble of Les Marches. They have a striking military character, with several thousand Marcheurs in Napoleonic uniforms protecting their saint against ‘thieves and robbers’.
  •  Sunday after All Saints Day, each year: the Candle Procession of Scherpenheuvel, in honour of Our-Lady of-Scherpenheuvel. This is one of many processions originating in the recurring plague epidemics. Since the Virgin protected the city of Scherpenheuvel against the plague in the 17th century, it was decided a procession should go out every year to thank her.

 

Now these are just a few (!) of all the processions going out in Belgium. There are many, many more, since almost every little hamlet in Belgium boasts its own procession, and of course, a ‘kermesse’ to celebrate. If you want a procession on this list, let me know in the comments and I’ll list it. If you’ve ever been to one, let me know what you thought about it!

Trees and histories

Tree in Houwaart

Trees and fields in de little village of Houwaart (Vlaams-Brabant) in Belgium

After my camera broke down on my trip to Berlin, I knew I had to have a new one. It took me a few weeks to buy a camera, but since then I take it with me everywhere I go. Looking over the pictures I took in the last couple of weeks, I expected to see a lot of pictures of ‘the offspring’ or of buildings (I tend to take a ridiculous amount of pictures of buildings, especially of churches). Surprise, surprise, most of the pictures I took were actually of trees.

 

Tree in my backyard

Now this is the tree in my backyard, which as you can see looked magnificent three weeks ago. It now looks utterly dreadful alas.

 

Now, I do live in the countryside, so it’s not that I never get to see a tree and when I do get completely overwhelmed by the fact that I see a green leaf. Nature is, so to speak, all around. But trees tend to make me feel small. OK, that’s not a complete surprise either, I am small actually, but seriously, really small. And they make me feel young too! I grew up near a forest, but I can’t remember feeling like this as a child. And I’m usually not that sentimental (quite the contrary it seems to the utter disappointment of my family members; my husband frequently complains that I am as romantic as a broomstick. I disagree).

 

Tree at the abbey of Averbode

Once in a while I seem to combine my obsession with trees with that of religious buildings. Like here in Averbode.

 

Anyway, somewhere inside me there seems to be a treehugger (I love that word! We should all hug a tree more often, maybe we would actually save our forests if we did!) waiting to burst out. Now, I can hear you thinking, what has this got to do with histories??? No idea, I just liked the title this way. But I do promise to write something a bit more historical in the next couple of weeks.

 

The old oak at the village of Kaggevinne near Diest. This tree seriously looks as though not that long ago witches danced naked around its trunk.

The old oak at the village of Kaggevinne near Diest. This tree seriously looks as though not that long ago witches danced naked around its trunk.

 

Hanami people: why living in Japan is on my bucket list

Hanami in Ueno Park Tokyo

Hanami at the Ueno Park in Tokyo (2012). Cherry Blossom fun in the Ueno Park in Tokyo where crowds gathered to celebrate Hanami.

 

A recent blogpost by Thewallinna and other creatures about how she misses Hanami in springtime Japan, reminded me about my own fascination with all things Japanese. I don’t exactly know where it comes from, but even as a child I was incredibly curious about faraway Japan. In 2012 I had the immense pleasure of finally travelling to Tokyo.

 

So living in Japan is on my bucket list. Would I like to stay in Japan indefinitely? I don’t think so. But for a year or thereabouts, I would really like to experience its culture a bit more profoundly than I did in 2012. I only stayed for a week, but it’s left a huge impression. The sentiment that stayed with me most is admiration. And what I admire most about the Japanese is their elegance.

 

Ueno Park Tokyo (2012)

Crowds and Trees at Ueno Park Tokyo (2012)

 

Hanami is one of those elegant traditions. What a wonderfully sad and yet delicious thing! How beautiful the cherry trees looked beside the ugly greyness of Tokyo buildings. The funny thing is that we arrived in Tokyo from the States, where I had attended the Renaissance Society of America Conference in Washington. And of course, if you say Washington in March, you say Cherry Blossom Festival. The trees simply looked magnificent.

 

Yet I have to admit, for me personally, it didn’t match the atmosphere around Ueno Park. I thoroughly enjoyed watching Japanese families and friends drinking and eating under the trees. The many food stalls at Shinobazu Pond just looked incredibly enticing. M. was with me, only 4 years old at the time, but she absolutely loved Japan and the Japanese. She’s been asking to go back ever since.

 

Food stalls at Ueno Park

The food stalls at Ueno Park Tokyo.

 

So I really do miss it, but of course that’s not the reason I want to live there. It’s actually quite hard to pin down my exact reasons. The special relationship the Japanese seem to have with food? The general feeling of respect you seem to pick up everywhere? The quest for perfection, however impossible to achieve, that still seems to drive a lot of their actions, from the elevator girl at the famous Isetan department store to the white gloved taxi driver?

 

All I know is that I have the feeling I have something to learn there. Let’s hope the opportunity arises for me to spend some more time there! In the meantime, I try to enjoy Hanami at home in Belgium, even though there is not a cherry blossom in sight…

10 tips for visiting museums with children: part 2

I’m going to dive right into this, and continue with the next 5 tips!

 

  1. Take some toys with you

 

I’m probably stating the obvious when I say: never leave the house without a toy, a book or whatever else that makes your child happy. I could personally live in a museum, but every now and then everyone just needs to play.

If your child has a favourite doll or teddy bear, why not play a new game: “toy museum guide” 😉 Ask your son or daughter what Teddy, Barbie (or whatever) would like to see and suggest it explains things for it. It’s basically role playing, and I don’t know a lot of kids that don’t like role playing!

When you’ve finished visiting the museum, you can ask your child how Teddy felt about the visit. It’s an indirect, and probably easier, way for your offspring to communicate if it actually appreciated the visit. I’m not saying you will necessarily appreciate the answer 😉

 

  1. Don’t underestimate walking distances

 

Museums might not always be very large buildings, they will still mostly consist of several halls, which you will explore from every angle. Whichever way you look at it, in the end you will cover a much larger distance than you would expect.

Unfortunately, in many museums places to sit and rest are scarce. I sometimes wonder if the idea is to chase visitors through the building as quickly as possible. More people = more money. So if you get the chance to let your child have a rest, don’t hesitate.

 

  1. Museum visits are as great a challenge to your brain as a marathon is to your body

 

Yes, I do mean this. The amount of information you have to process in most museums is huge. Now as an adult, you are probably used to ‘information overloads’. From Facebook or Twitter, to Pinterest and TV and even the background noise at our jobs, we’ve learned to cope with too much impressions by ignoring half of what we hear or see.

But I don’t think children are capable of processing all these new experiences all at once. At least with our daughter M. we notice that too many people in a museum or too much information at once makes her nervous.

Two years ago we visited the old part of the city of Veliko Tarnovo in Bulgaria. M. absolutely refused to listen to anything I said, and instead walked up to the (by the way excellent) guide, instantly promoting her to surrogate mother and best friend of the moment.

Veliko Tarnovo (Bulgaria)

The old ‘City of the Tsars’ at Veliko Tarnovo in Bulgaria

 

 

We had the impression she couldn’t care less about the old fort and everything around it. That is until we boarded our bus again and she started drawing a chapel that we had visited, with a particular architectural feature. It had a horizontal red brick line in the middle of it which indicated from what level the chapel had been rebuilt. And so my daughter starts explaining her drawing to us, complete with details on the red line. We were baffled. She hardly spoke for two hours and mostly smiled to her newfound guide-friend, but she had grasped more than we’d thought anyway.

 

  1. Prolong the experience: make a travel diary or buy books

 

Point 8 actually brings me to this: try to have your children ‘translate’ their experiences. When M. was younger and she couldn’t write yet, she drew a lot. But now that she can write, we try to stimulate her to keep a record of what we do when we travel. This works just as well with museum visits. You can keep a special diary in which your children make a short summary of every museum they’ve visited or the things they’ve learned there.

M taking notes in her travel diary

M taking notes in her travel diary while visiting Kronborg Castle.

What we’ve also started doing a while ago, is allowing M. to take her own camera with her. Her grandmother gave her a VTech camera some years ago (no, this is not a sponsored post ;-)) and we take it with us almost everywhere we go now. If your child is not such a ‘writer’, this might be a good alternative.

M taking pictures with her VTech

M. taking pictures with her VTech camera in Tongeren, the oldest city of Belgium

A lot of museums have excellent storybooks or colouring books for children. When the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam reopened, they published “Het grote Rijksmuseum voorleesboek”, for which several writers wrote a story focussing on the top pieces in the Rijksmuseum. It’s a wonderful storybook which brings to life many of their best-known paintings.

Usborne, the well-known publisher of children’s books, also has a great “Art sticker book”. We bought it in Dutch (the original is in English), but Usborne books are published in several languages and this sticker book for instance also exists in a French version.

 

  1. Remember: art = experience, not knowledge

 

I guess this is a tricky one. What I mean to say is this: if you want your child to appreciate art, teach it to look at a painting or sculpture, not to memorise who actually made it.

If you do insist on telling your child more about the artist, at least mention why that is important. Because honestly, for me personally art is more about feelings and impressions and historical context, than about the who, the when and the what.

The same thing could be said about architectural styles of churches or palaces. Although that does hit a bit closer to home – I am after all specialising in religious history and the nobility –  I don’t think I ever insisted on teaching M. the finer points of gothic architecture or renaissance gardens. I have on the other hand tried to teach her how she could ‘experience’ these buildings, for instance the need for certain architectural features in forts. In my previous post I mentioned we went to Kronborg Castle, and just walking through the casemates and looking at the impressive walls was enough to explain to her that Kronborg had an important military function as well.

 

I hope these 10 tips are helpful when you plan your next family trip to a museum. I’d love to hear your tips for travelling with kids!