The first parade on Day One winds through the city and ends at the Grote Markt, where the last float of the row is set to arrive at 19.45 – seven hours after it started. The people of Aalst take their parades very seriously and go to great lengths to create the most fantastically absurd floats. Every year, political and local events are satirised in the parade – politicians and celebrities are not spared.
 
This tradition goes back to the late medieval period in Aalst, when, during the days before Lent, ceremonies included disguise and inverted role play. If Lent is the sombre period of fasting and moderation, Carnival is the complete opposite. If throughout the year people humbly do what they’re told, Carnival is the time they really say and show what they think. Fancy dress allows citizens to speak their minds without the threat of persecution – so it was 500 years ago, and so it is, to an extent, now.
 
Day Two starts with the Broom Dance. The traditionally-dressed Gilles parade though the city, swing their brooms and stamp on the ground in an attempt to chase away evil spirits. While doing so, they beg the gods for a good harvest. Later that day follows the big “onion throw”. Not real onions, but onion sweets, thrown from the balcony of the town hall. One hundred of them have a number corresponding to a prize; the lucky visitor who catches the onion with number 1 wins a golden onion designed by a jeweller.
 
Around 14.00, another row of floats glide through the streets of Aalst and, in the evening, all the Carnival groups come together for the award ceremony where the jury chooses the winning floats. Afterwards, the party continues in the bars and in the streets.
 
Day Three is certainly the favourite Carnival event for many, many Aalstenaars: the Parade of the Voil Jeanettens, or Dirty Jennies. Men dress up as women and flaunt their stuff to the 80,000 visitors – and stuff they have, the bawdier the better. The costuming, in fact, became so scandalous in the 1990s that the city imposed restrictions on not just clothing but behaviour (which are respected, more or less).
 
The Voil Jeanettens still carry the traditional props used by workingclass men 82 years ago. They didn’t have money for proper disguises: the next best thing was their wives’ old outfits, a pram, a handbag and an umbrella.
 
Carnival ends the same day at 21.00, with the popverbranding, or burning of the doll, in which a specially-made Carnival reveller (male, with handbag and high heels) is set on fire in the Grote Markt. While the remains of the doll still simmer, many Aalstenaars start their preparations for Carnival next year.
 
www.aalst.be
 
That’s Oilsjt to you
 
The Aalsters dialect is incredibly difficult to understand, even if you’re a native Dutch speaker. If you’d like to get an idea of what it sounds like, tune into online radio Ajoin and get blown away by the hundreds of Carnival songs. Practice for your night out.
 
www.carnaval.oilsjt.be/webradio.html
 
Why three days?
 
Most cities that host a Carnival spend multiple days doing so, traditionally ending on Shrove Tuesday. Aalst’s Carnival was first organised by the local federation of bars and shops. Lent was a rough time for their businesses, so Carnival was the ideal moment to sell a lot of booze and food. Nowadays, Carnival still lasts three days in Aalst.
 
Carnival days
 
When Paul van der Stap set out to photograph local Carnival celebrations in Flanders and North Brabant in the Netherlands, he was surprised by the sense of foreboding he felt in tiny villages just before Carnival. “It was unpleasantly quiet in the streets,” he writes in his new photo book Carnival Days, with an introduction in both Dutch and English. His photos show a clear connection between pagan celebrations and modern-day affairs, where the floats are wild caricatures and the masks grotesque interpretations of an inner human spirit long suppressed. In Aalst, Van der Stap concentrated on the Parade of the Dirty Jennies (photo above), where the men of the city flaunt both sides of sexuality with unnerving abandon.
 
www.verbeelding-fotoboeken.nl
 
Thirteen hours of Aalst
 
with Katrien Lindemans
 
Carnival in Aalst equals three days of utter madness. From the afternoon until the early morning, there’s always something to do. If you want to plan a visit, but don’t know what to expect, here’s what happened to me.
 
18.00 I meet up with friends at the train station in Brussels. We’re not leaving until we’ve all had a pita and greasy fries because we all feel like this is going to be a long night.
 
19.00 Arrival in Aalst, and I see the first Voil Jeanetten chasing each other with cans of hairspray. On the way to the centre, I notice all the shop windows are protected by wooden boards. Hmm.
 
20.00 I’ve had my first few pints of Safir beer (previously brewed in Aalst, it’s the official beer of their Carnival) and am totally feeling the Carnival vibe. I keep on getting weird looks from people, though, and one of them finally asks me why I’m not dressed up. I tell him I’m dressed up as myself, which seems to make little impression.
 
22.00 We go from bar to bar, and I’m getting a bit bored with the bitter aftertaste of Safir. The bartender asks me what I want to drink and why I’m not dressed up. I again explain that I went as myself. He wants to know who I am, so I shout my name. He seems impressed with my last name and offers me a Lindemans kriek on the house.
 
00.00 A few friends go home on the last train, but the rest of us are having too much fun. We are going to do the Aalst thing and party all night. The official activities are all over now, so everybody heads to the bars or clubs. It’s getting really crowded everywhere we go, and people are so drunk.
02.00 We wander through the city in search of our next stop, but it’s bloody cold outside. I seriously regret not having dressed up; a furry bear costume would have been welcome. I really don’t understand how the Voil Jeanetten survive the night wearing not much more than a mini skirt and fishnet stockings.
 
03.00 We lose track of a few friends and find out an hour later that one of them fell and had to go to a Red Cross booth. True Aalst experience; the Voil Jeanetten would be proud. We want to find our injured friend, but don’t really know our way around. Many of the local party goers seem a bit lost, too, and give us contradictory travel routes. We have the most insane conversations with people we meet on the way and have great difficulty deciphering their dialect.
 
05.00 The streets are so dirty, and there are enough empty bottles lying about to make your monthly wage in deposits. But we find the station!
 
06.00 Everybody is exhausted, and we try our very best not to fall asleep on the train. People on their way to work seem interested about our night out and ask us if we had a good time. We nod.
 
06.30 Less comprehension on the metro home. I get a sneery look from a young couple, but I don’t really care. (I had a great time!)
 
07.00 I arrive home and catch my reflection in the mirror. A million confetti flakes are caught in my hair; my face has the colour of a grey winter morning. I decide to join Lent this year…I could do with a detox.