Turkey à la Belge

Being an ex-pat on a holiday isn’t the easiest of things. Being and ex-pat on a holiday that is traditionally “your own” and not celebrated in your host country is, well, a little strange. In the run up to Thanksgiving there were no pictures of turkeys or pilgrims or cornucopias in the windows of shops. No news reports from the AAA advising people to take public transportation instead of driving. And no supermarket promotions: “Buy 100 Euros of groceries and get a free turkey!” In fact, there were no huge displays of turkeys in supermarkets at all. Turkeys don’t arrive in full force until Christmas here.

So, my original intent was to seek out Starbucks at the airport and chow down at McDonald’s to get my required does of American and, indeed, consumerism. Thankfully, my friend SC, who’s spent time in the US, was having a Thanksgiving dinner for some of his family and friends. “An excuse to party,” he said. So, I was able to have a Thanksgiving Day dinner and it was wonderful. Of course, as with any Thanksgiving, a few bumps along the way.

First was, what to eat. Like I said above, turkeys aren’t easy to find. So, it was decided that we’d have a full chicken since a bird was necessary and you can carve a chicken. Then, SC said his sister knew someone at one of the US military bases near Brussels (it’s the headquarters of NATO)….but, as with most things American, all the birds there were literally too big to fit into SC’s oven. So, it was back to chicken. In the end, though, SC was able to get a turkey that would fit from a poultry store earlier in the week. It was a “real” bird that the butcher killed, de-plucked, and dressed for our Thursday feast.

It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without a transportation problem of some sort…since SC and his other guests had to work on Thursday (and, in theory, I should have, too, but I had cornbread to make) Thanksgiving was to begin around 7:00/7:30. Now SC lives south of me, near the university so I had to either take the bus or the tram. I chose the tram because it’s closer to pick up from my apartment and, well, I just like the trams better.

Evidently there was an accident on the other track and this resulted in my tram stopping at the end of Avenue Louise before it makes the turn to head towards where SC lives. No announcement about the problem or what to do. Everyone just got off and dispersed. Now, I knew where I was and I could have walked to SC’s, but it would have been a hike and the weather was being very Belgian – rain, no rain, lots of rain, light rain, no rain, wind. After a helpful call from SC’s brother I made my way to a major intersection – Place Flagey – and got on the bus from there and made it with time to spare before dinner was to begin.

Along with the traditional fixin’s, we had the traditional box o’wine, and SC’s sister and brother even tried to stream some American Football to watch. Evidently a lot of others in Belgium were doing the same, so we could only see one play, but it was enough. (It was the Cowboys and Raiders, so I really didn’t care about the game.)

I did some explaining about what Thanksgiving is. SC, his sister, and brother have spent time in the US, but the others at the table hadn’t. The most fun I had explaining the holiday was actually to my landlords.

Before brining my cornbread contribution to Thanksgiving dinner I made a test batch the weekend before. Now, the recipe makes about 12 muffins, so I decided to share some with my landlords – a nice Dutch-Belgian family. A few days later I ran into them and they said the loved the cornbread, but still didn’t know what Thanksgiving was. I started with the pilgrims and Indians, then with Lincoln and the Civil War, and finally when I said, “well, it’s basically based on a harvest festival” then they got it, said some stuff in Dutch and nodded. So, cultural ideas were exchanged. (They’ve helped share the Saint Nicholas story and the Christmas-time traditions.)

The Christmas season is in full swing here and that will be the focus of my next post….needless to say David Sedaris has prepared me for the tradition here and I’m even playing my part as one of the “Black Petes” by hiding some of the family's gifts ahead of 6 December when gifts are exchanged.

11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918

Today, 11 November, marks the 91^st anniversary of the cessation of battle on the western front during World War I. The armistice between the combatants took effect at the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month. In the US we know today as Veterans Day. In the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth Nations it’s Remembrance Day. In Belgium it’s still know as Armistice Day.

I attended the ceremony in Brussels and it was similar to those that we find in the US: pomp and ceremony, lots of flags, a marching band, veterans, flowers, etc. The walk from my flat to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (la tombe de le soldat inconnu) was eerily quiet. Rue Royale was blocked off and as I crossed the street I was almost mowed down by the motorcade of the NATO delegation. (NATO’s headquarters are just outside Brussels. I really need to get over there and check it out.)

The site of the ceremony was lightly attended when I arrived around 10:30, but soon grew. Parents were there with their kids. One father was trying to explain the concept of the Unknown Soldier to his son.

Nationalism is a finicky thing in Belgium. The über-federal nature of the country has certainly diluted whatever nationalism was here starting back in 1830 when Belgium broke away form the Kingdom of the Netherlands. But, here, there were Belgian flags waving just like we’d see back in the US. (Though, the people weren’t carrying any flags, except for one guy who was all decked out in red, walking sticks, a backpack with apocalyptic slogans on it, and a big white beard. He could have been mistaken for a hugely patriotic and apocalyptic Santa, but St. Nick is expected to dock in Brussels until next Wednesday. Needless to say, the Belgian police had an eye on this guy.)

The band played and veterans marched and the king arrived. I’m still fascinated by the concept of the king and was very glad to see him in person. King Albert II’s motorcade came through and he walked by the reviewing stand, saluted, and shook hands with members of the military and the veterans in attendance. Yes, there were shouts of “Vive le Roi.” (Long Live the King) Some snickers went through the crowed at this, but King Albert was applauded as we made his way around. He laid his wreath and saluted and then walked to his car and he was off.

Then there was a parade of Belgian officials to the tomb to lay wreaths of flowers: the prime minister, defense minister, chief of the army, etc. The ceremony ended with the playing of the Ode to Joy from Beethoven’s 9^th Symphony, the anthem, as it were, of post-WW II Europe and then the national anthem of Belgium.

For someone who studies World War I, this was a particularly interesting ceremony to attend since, unlike the US, Belgium had Allied and German troops on its soil before, during, and after the Armistice was signed in 1918. It was also interesting to stand there and hear cannons sound off as the ceremony went on. Many of the members of the Commission for Relief in Belgium lived in towns close to the front and wrote in their diaries or in letters home that they could hear the sound of cannons in the distance. Now, to some extent, I know what that sounded like. I’ll admit, I did tear-up – especially during the playing of the Ode to Joy. Historians are not dispassionate observers of the past, we certainly do a good deal of creation as we examine documents and other sources and then write up what we’ve found and thought about. Attending this event certainly brought me a little closer to the fact that while the men I’m studying were writing memos about how much corn flour should be sent from Rotterdam to Brussels and then to Namur or why such-and-such a town commune wasn’t listen to the good advice of the American delegate, thousands of young men were dying a few miles to the west and that soon some of the men who were writing these memos would go on to serve once the US entered the actual fighting in April 1917.

It’s back to the archive tomorrow….

Carly's Visit

This is, I’m sad to say, probably going to be a long post so bear with me. [Then again, it could always be a lot longer....]

Two months into my research trip in Brussels, Carly came for a visit. She flew in on Halloween and left the following Sunday, so we had a week to explore Brussels and do a bit of travel. It was great having her here, showing her “my city,” and bringing another part of my life – my relationship – with me to Brussels. I love my work and I’m focused on it, but it was nice to take a break and just enjoy my new home with some one dear to me, rather than on my own.

Brussels
Of course, since I live in Brussels, we had to do the usual sights: Grand Place, the Royal Palace, the little boy peeing, waffles, fries, and the like. The weather was eh, so we made the most of the sun that we could. Carly was a trooper on the first day. After a short nap, she was ready to explore the city. We had a beer on Grand Place – something I’ll never tire of – and took in the usual sights. One evening we found our way to a great little restaurant near where Audrey Hepburn was born. It’s called Les Brassins and it’s one of those places you’d never find unless you already knew about it. (Thank you New York Times’ 36-hours in Brussels.)

Les Brassins is an unassuming little restaurant that serves good, traditional, Low Country food at a good price. Carly had a beef stew that’s made with dark brown beer and I had stoemp, a dish of mashed potatoes mixed with a vegetable (artichokes this time) served with a fat sausage and think slice of bacon on top. Fantastic. It was also a cold and rainy night so it was the perfect meal.

We also did some chocolate shopping. When Carly arrived I got her some chocolate from Wittamer, one of the two chocolate shops accredited to the Royal Court of Belgium. This stuff was delicious. So, of course, we went back for more. Wittamer is right on the Grand Sablon, my favorite place in Brussels and we spent some time exploring the church there (we attended a beautiful Gregorian Chant mass her first Sunday here) and the park that is opposite the church.

I also gave her my research tour: stopping by where the Germans had their administration during World War I, where the Belgian relief group had their offices, and where the Americans had theirs. I’m not sure how interesting she found that part – most of these places are either gone or transformed into Russian airline offices – but I indulged the tour guides prerogative to point out the inane as well as the Grand….

Grand Place was a constant in the trip. We got fries, of course, and they were up to par. (The second trip to Frites Land wasn’t as good. When the fries are good there, they are good. When they aren’t they aren’t.)

One evening we had dinner at Aux Armes de Bruxelles, an almost 90-year-old establishment on Rue des Bouchers right off Grand Place. We had a nice three-course meal. Among the great dishes, I had a traditional starter plate: endive, wrapped in ham, and baked with cheese and cream. It was, well, delicious. Thankfully, the main course was the famed mussels and fries, which is a bit lighter than many of the other items on the menu.

We ended up having an after dinner drink at Le Roi d’Espagne. An old world café in an old guildhall on Grand Place. Two things of note: the dried and inflated pig bladders that hang from the ceiling and, in the men’s room, pictures of women peering down toward the urinals. What’s with this country and the act of peeing?!

Paris
By high-speed train it’s a 1 and 22 minutes to Paris. We took the high-speed train but, for whatever reason, we had terrible luck with the train. Going there we were delayed 20 minutes for no reason. On the way back they put us on the wrong track so we had to double back to Paris to get things going right. Aside from that Paris….

For Carly’s birthday we went to Paris and walked and walked and walked. It was a rainy day, but we stayed dryish. We went up the Eiffel Tower, visited Notre Dame, and walked along the Seine. The highlight, though, was the Musée Jacquemart André (thanks LW and NR). This place is a little off the beaten track, but well worth it. We had tea and cake in a most beautiful tea room adorned with tapestries depicting the life of Achilles. The museum itself was the home of a 2nd French Empire “upper middle class” couple who instead of having kids, collected art from around the world and held lavish parties. The audio guide was wonderful and gave nice insight into how the favored lived during the time of Napoleon III.

We found a nice little café for dinner and enjoyed being warm for a bit and having some nice French wine. We actually got a cab to get us back to the station and then headed for Brussels.

I really liked Paris, but it has the familiar “big city” feel and we spent a lot of time traveling between places in the city. Next time I go – and I hope there is a next time – I’d like to take one district and really focus on it and explore it.

Antwerp
We decided on Antwerp for our final out of Brussels day trip. Antwerp has an old world feel that is different than Brussels. Only about 500,000 people it’s smaller, too, but has one of the most beautiful cathedrals in the world. Of course, having a number of P. P. Rubens on display doesn’t hurt. The magnificent “Descent from the Cross” stands to the right of the main alter and is captivating. It’s one thing to see a painting like this in a museum, but to see it in the church it was designed for and displayed as it is designed to, is just incredible.

It’s a triptych altarpiece for the Arquebusiers whose patron saint is St. Christopher (whose name means “cross bearer.”) Since this is during the counter-Reformation, the main scene could not be of St. Christopher – as the Arquebusiers (early riflemen) wanted – so Rubens creates a triptych that gives his patrons multiple cross bearers as Christ is taken from the cross after his death. It’s simply amazing to see it in person and to see it in the grand and light cathedral.

On the lighter side, there is also a building in Antwerp, for the butcher’s guild, that is designed to look like a rasher of bacon. There are red and white strips of stone that turn it into a bacon building. Well done, Antwerp.

Back in Brussels
All in all I think it was a wonderful trip. Carly surely has more to say and these are just some of the things we saw in Brussels, Antwerp, and Paris. Her visit has really made this trip real since I have now been able to share this place with someone from back home. It’s not the same describing it in an e-mail, or over the phone, or in this blog. I’m glad that she’ll now be able to picture when I say I was at Sablon or on Grand Place or at the supermarket.

Now it’s six weeks until I come home for Christmas. I will, however, get to be here for Belgian Christmas. St. Nicholas and his helpers arrive by boat on 18 November….see David Sedaris for more.