Thursday March 11 2010 11:40
-2°C / 5°C
So when my eyes fell on a piece of mundane local news about the opening of a new kapsalon, I was surprised to find myself reading on. The proud owner is a young man called Nassim, who made his way to Belgium from Iraq to escape the miseries of the war there. The article begins tantalisingly: Achter de twee blauwe ogen die schuchter naar me kijken, schuilt een woelig verleden – Behind the two blue eyes that look at me shyly hides a turbulent past.
The programme’s reporters manage to make the most reserved of people open up in front of the camera. One of the weekly themes is a visit to villages around Flanders, where a local guide points out the places and people of interest.
Recently the Mbh team descended on Liedekerke. One of the local characters persuaded to talk to them was a sprightly senior citizen who has a remarkable talent for parking. His garage is between his terraced house and the next. I say garage but, at 1m55 cm wide, it’s piepklein – tiny. I suggest you pause now and measure that.
Some messages are signed boringly with “Marc” or “An”; others are more familiar: knuffelbeer – cuddly bear; bolleke – chubby. Some messages promise a bed of roses: de laatste Valentijn als jouw verloofde – the last Valentine as your fiancé; binnenkort word ik jouw man – soon I’ll be your husband; het wordt zoals ik beloofde – it will be as I promised. Ah, promises, promises.
How does he do it? Serhani geeft zich uit voor de zoon van een Arabische prins – Serhani poses as the son of an Arab prince. He is in fact a former student nurse from Elsene in Brussels (though sometimes a police cadet from France, depending on who he’s talking to).
But that’s nothing compared to learning how to use a word like mag, the singular of mogen, which can mean “may”, “should”, “can” or simply “is”, and is pronounced as a Scotsman would say “mach”. Modal verbs is what the grammarians call them – those words that add the idea of obligation, speculation or permission to a normal verb. You might be tricked into thinking that mogen with its singular form mag is simply the same as “may”. If only things were so simple.
It’s at times like these that we can be cheered by the unexpected. I met an old colleague from a former job the other day. She has no work and little to live on. When I asked how things were, she beamed when she replied: “I’ve got my health; what more do I need?” And she wasn’t joking.
It brought me up short as I remembered the New Year’s wishes we have all been exchanging: “Beste wensen – Best wishes” to which you reply “en een goede gezondheid – and good health” to which the other responds “ja, dat is het belangrijkste – yes, that’s the most important”.
Comments on an Antwerp website are typical. “Het is een regelrecht schandaal – It’s a downright scandal; er wordt niet gestrooid op fietspaden – cycle lanes are not salted”, complains one resident, who then spoils his rant slightly: “Ben dus verplicht met de auto te gaan werken – So I’m obliged to go to work by car.”
We, as ever, live in a world of certainties. In times gone by, it was a fact that the earth was flat and that kings had a divine right to rule. Plus ça change, as they say. I was in a meeting recently in which a colleague said that she hadn’t printed certain documents to help save the rainforest. Admittedly, the print-off would have run to several hundred pages, but it would have been handier with paper in hand. I had to bite my tongue and nod with the rest: another threatened teak saved.
We, as ever, live in a world of certainties. In times gone by, it was a fact that the earth was flat and that kings had a divine right to rule. Plus ça change, as they say. I was in a meeting recently in which a colleague said that she hadn’t printed certain documents to help save the rainforest. Admittedly, the print-off would have run to several hundred pages, but it would have been handier with paper in hand. I had to bite my tongue and nod with the rest: another threatened teak saved.
Some suggestions you may never entertain: you may never wish to cross the Atlantic, so feel good as you tick niet op vakantie naar New York – no holidays in NY. Others might be equally easy to do: de thermostaat op 18.5° zetten – set the thermostat at 18.5°; well, ours is set at 19° unless our daughter is home alone. Some we have no choice with: geen plastic zakken meer gebruiken – no longer use plastic bags, since they’ve become as rare as hens’ teeth. Or some you may have done so years ago, as in dubbel glas plaatsen – install doubleglazing.
Flanders Today is an independent weekly newsmagazine about Flanders
