This is my first time in Belgium. Chocolates and bier and Kevin De Bruyne – that’s the extent of my Belgium knowledge. Oh, and the film In Bruges, of course. But I’m not in Bruges. I’m in Namur.
Where’s that? Ah, I know this one - it’s in Belgium.
My knowledge of geography is poor. I chose History over geography at school. However, my knowledge of Belgian History , beyond knowing that Kevin De Bruyne signed for Man City in 2015 is equally poor. But both rise high above my language skills.
I don’t speak a word of Belgian. Which, in Belgium, I thought would be a problem. But it isn’t. Because no one in Belgium speaks ‘Belgian’ either. Because Belgian, as a language, isn’t a thing. Who knew? Not me. The Belgians speak a lot of Dutch, (or Flemish? Not 100% sure if they're different or the same, only in a different accent.) But it doesn’t matter because no one speaks Flemish, either. At least not round here. In Namur. Round here, everyone speaks French.
Which feels very odd, what with it being Belgium. But it’s of no consequence, because I am unable to speak any of these languages – not the one they speak for reasons they keep to themselves (French), nor the one they’re famous for speaking (Dutch/Flemish), but don’t.
Then again, it's not terribly different to the experience of visitors to Wales or Scotland, is it? Much as they would like to believe otherwise, the Scots and Welsh, mostly, don’t speak very much of their native tongue, either.
So my Celtic friends are, on the whole, more like me in Belgium today - than they are themselves in their native countries, most other days of the week. I think.
Saying that, I’m aware Celts have killed for less, so let me reassure my kilt wearing and valley-roaming friends that I’ve no hint of judgement here. To me, all languages are difficult. And Welsh? Well I take my English 'het' off to the nearly one million speakers of Cymraeg.
Apparently there's quite a ruckus in Belgium between the French and Flemish speaking sides. Everyone thinks everyone else is doing it wrong, as it were. And no one wants to learn both, naturally. So, instead, it seems everyone has a pretty decent smattering of English, would you believe? And I've got a pretty decent smattering of English too! But the locals don’t let on they have this until you’ve shown yourself to be utterly hopeless at all languages barring English (with a Mancunian twang).
However, I've found the perfect way round this language conundrum I find myself in – when I’m with Sarah, I let her do all the talking. Literally all of it. I smile and nod when it feels right, and if she says ‘Merci’ I parrot it, or occasionally I'll say ‘thank you', just to keep them on their toes. They don’t seem to mind. And when Sarah's not around I literally speak to no one.
The people of Namur are an interesting bunch. You have to look no further than the animal they have as their symbol for the city (it’s on everything) - the snail. The snail!?
As a Mancunian I'm happy the worker bee has been adopted to represent us. Hard-working in a city that’s a hive of activity. Who wouldn't want that? But snails? The snail is mostly famous for being slow, leaving an unpleasant trail and eating my Mother's lettuces. What positives would a city take from such a beast?
Well. A newspaper cartoon by Jean Legrand suggested that the pace of life in Namur is so laid back that the people would need to take steps to stop their ‘pet’ snails from racing away, such is the languid state of their owners. Is that a complement, or is he having a dig?There’s a statue of that cartoon in one of their squares.
Here it is....
Other cities honour great leaders or valiant military personnel. In Namur, however, it’s 'DJoseph & Francwes', two odd looking chaps in danger of losing their gastropods due to their inability to get their arses in gear (that’s an approximated translation, you understand).
Being laid back is an underrated trait. I assume it's because we're always so busy? It feels alien when we're running around like headless chickens most of the time. It's almost certainly why the first day on holiday often feels strange because we're in a different, faster, gear to those who are already there. We have to shed the skin of our harassed, pre-holiday state before we can properly enjoy ourselves and a slower pace of life.
The people in Namur have this mentality all year round, if this statue is to be believed. It certainly looked that way when, on my first night here, Sarah and I waited nearly 50 minutes for our dinners to arrive. If I'm honest, Sarah got a dose of the 'hangries', the like of which the city has never seen. She went so far as to politely ask if it would be much longer - which in Namur is akin to asking a tree if it would rather be a camel - simply a thing you would never imagine saying. Then again, I only have her word that that's what she said - after all, I understood not one syllable of the exchange.
When it came, our dinner was delicious, the staff attentive and apologetic (Sarah said). I may not be able to understand very much of what the locals are saying but I really like them. They are friendly, chatty (not to me obviously) and most certainly unhurried. So if they want to lock up their gastropod molluscs, or walk them round on leads, fair enough, I say - good luck to them.
One final thing - can I suggest that if your English football team is playing a semi-final in the Champions League, while you're in Belgium (rather than Manchester where the game is actually taking place), and you're forced to find a local Belgian TV station to watch it on (because, even though at no point during the sign up process do BT tell you, their monthly sports pass does not work outside of the UK), leave the live commentary on. I'm honestly not sure what language I was hearing, but I absolutely loved listening to it. All the while, eating chocolate, drinking bier and watching Kevin De Bruyne claim two assists during our 4-0 thrashing of Real Madrid.
When Sarah got home I tried to pass on some of my enthusiasm for the match, the goals and the importance of the footballing occasion, but she simply smiled and looked at me as though I were speaking a foreign language.
Once again a delightful read and one I can so associate with having watched a football match in Belgium, I so get this, thank you :-)