There
is a feeling of freedom, nay abandonment, chez moi as the Dutch
lessons finish. Will really miss Sophie, the fab teacher, and my
young fellow students who have been delightful. Earlier, I counted the number of different countries from which we came and now am not sure but it was around sixteen I think. We have been able to learn so much from each other in addition to the beginnings of Dutch from Sophie pursuing a mega-task of imparting some of the foundations of her language. In spite of
protestations of intent to keep in touch, undoubtedly we won't, or at
least, they won't with me, nor I with them, as we are generations
apart. I have come to love and admire them as they pursue their
different journeys which chiefly cluster under the heading of Dreams
for The Future. Whether they be for their children's better education
and lives; their own professional advancement via university/college;
jobs, now, to live independently; a restaurant to open, a degree to
pursue whatever, they all need to speak Dutch and most pursue this
objective with verve! Some, with an admirable and steely
determination; others with a slightly less demotic devotion; yet more
[but only a few] with a careless and carefree attitude which belies
the real need and their possibly vain hope that, somehow, without
working too hard, they will end up with some fluency in the language
and so Fit In and Get On.
We
finished the course, after more exercises and test results, early and
then went as a group around a nearby part of Brugge, the beloved
Beguinage area, unknown to most of the young students. Sophie led and
spoke of course in Dutch so it was learning continued . We wandered
round and finished at a restaurant in the Walplein where Hardeep's
husband is a chef, for drinks and more chat. A delightful way to
complete Level One. We had earlier presented Sophie with a super
Passion Flower plant and a bouquet, both of which I had bought earlier
[with money collected from the class] and both of which I had to
carry/drag to school in my bag-on-wheels earlier. The result after a
journey of 30 minutes on foot, was a hot and slightly weary but
triumphant, porter!
Some of the party on our perambulations
I have
worked quite hard on the course, but the hours necessary to attend,
over a four day week, are frankly too much for me now to have the energy
to spare for the other stuff I want to do. Important tasks like
finding the Archaeological Museum to see if I can locate more about
the discovery of the buried remains, and subsequent restoration of
Sint Donaas Kathedral or the history of the building where I live
which has the intriguing old name of Oud Hof van Smyrna. However, I
do want to learn Dutch and hope to find a class for fewer hours a
week in the Autumn. Sensibly, all classes stop for the important
vacances now and I already have details of a Dutch conversation group
which will re-start in September, though I can offer only a tiny
basis on which to begin any conversation! Still, got a decent grade
to finish, with my lowest mark in speaking; no surprise but private
irritation nonetheless!
What
else have I done or seen this week? Relatively little overall; a
second trip to the chic hairdresser on Gentpoortstraat where the
highlights in my hair worked after all my anxiety, but the cut,
though superb, is still Too Short [these things matter!] AND the
visit was an unbelievable three and a half hours long. There is
always an opportunity inside every problem, the Chinese suggest, and
the plus for me was finding a fellow traveller there. She had also
been Head of a school and had to retire early because of ill health.
We swapped e-mail addresses as she was borne off to await the
decisions and skill of the Master and I settled down to await my turn
as I read the New Statesman. When I eventually reached the cutting
stage and the Boss, I took the opportunity to say that no one had
spoken to me from the staff when I arrived or during my unexpectedly
long wait and that was not good enough. He is the sweetest man and he
thanked me but I shall be interested to see if anything alters next
time I visit. I have since decided that the real, day to day capo is
the stately blonde in shiny clothes who seems to be i/c colouring and
reception and it is she who should be training the girls in the
minute-to-minute courtesies and practices.
Saturday
was Feest in 't Park, in the area round Minnewater to be precise.
There is a seemingly endless succession of events in Brugge in the
summer months and I now receive the Brugge Stads magazine giving the
zommeragenda. [even I can translate that!]. From there I gather news
such as the fact that members of the Canal Swimmers' Club can swim in
the Langerei canal near me, every weekend from 13.00 to 18.00 in July
and August. Must pop down there to view the way bolder swimmers than
I, disport themselves so fearlessly. Imagine the temperature of the
water, AND the grime!
But
thus, from the Brugge Inspraak mag, did I discover that Feest in 't
Park, a free 'mondial festival' for young and old, was taking place
yesterday, Saturday. Had to go and have a look; marvellous weather
and free entrance, and no doubt the wealth of activities on offer,
drew thousands. I doubt that there were many tourists there in fact;
they might well not have heard of it. Hundreds and hundreds of young
local families were there, meeting up with friends, trying out foods,
supervising children, loving it all. Prepare ye for an avalanche of
pictures; there were some enchanting sights in fact. My favourite bit was the arena where a young authoritative Western man, dressed in
black gear and slung around with huge African drum, sticks etc was
directing a large circle of youngsters, each with a drum, in the art
of making rhythm, African style. The children were incredibly involved, totally and un-self consciously absorbed; a joy to see.
And
here, my absolute fav example of concentration from a potential
drummer-of-the-future:
And
talking of concentration, I snapped this young man engrossed in
solving some puzzle while sitting in his stylish transport.
The
many activities included various painting opportunities on paper,
card, objects, faces, for little ones and bigger ones; mini rock
climbing; exploring over solid versions of cartoon objects like
the one below: investigations in diverse tents;
Selling
stalls were there a-plenty with African, Indian and perhaps Oriental jewellery
attracting eager customers and in addition, there were lots of
seating and eating areas with many, many stalls selling hot food from
all over the globe!
Regional
bodies were clearly involved and among the publicity tents I noticed
Oxfam [one of the organisers of the event]; Plan Belgie [a charity
which I already support in the form of Plan UK, providing help and
education in the Third World]; UNICEF; Side-by-side India and
numerous other charities. The identity of the organisers explains the worldwide nature
of the stalls on offer and all sounds Good but Earnest; the event in fact
was stimulating and Fun for the mainly young families there with the
implicit message of We Are One World. Oh dear; difficult to explain; sounds so Worthy but impressive to see.
I have looked back at this blog and despite best efforts, CANNOT arrange the photographs as I would like; thus a big space adjacent to the tent where the picture below could go, but won't. SO annoying and any advice, welcome.
I went to the baker's at half past eight this Sunday morning, and was musing, as I walked back, at the reassuring nature of the whole experience, short though it was. First, a queue on the street from the bakery which had been on holiday for a week; a vote of confidence I thought. As I gradually edged forward and was looking at the goodies on offer other than the super breads, a quite new neighbour in my building saw me and remembered who I was though not the name so a short conversation later [in English schoolgirl French and Belgian French] we parted amicably; man who served me, remembered that I have a black Probody bread, sliced and that I live in Woensdagmarkt nearby, and as I waited, homeward-bound, at the zebra crossing, a large car stopped to allow me to walk. Reminded me that this is the norm here and that, as a permanent pedestrian, I really appreciate the courtesy.
