Dining out and eating in

Last night, I dined at Blanca's apartment in Liege. She is from El Salvadore and she had invited me and a couple of other adult students from our French course to dinner. As I was finishing late at school ( I finish at 4:10 on Fridays - but I don't start until 11am), I decided to have a wander around the city centre before going to Blanca's. I was in luck because it turned out that last night was the first night of the Christmas markets. They set up lots of little wooden chalets which sell anything from alcohol to Christmas decorations. Mostly they have something to do with Christmas. It gets dark here about 5.30 now so all the Christmas lights were on and it looked quite stunning in St Lambert. As they say in French, there was 'beaucoup de monde' - lots of people and I felt just a little bit homesick. Luckily about that time, Blanca phoned to say all was ready and did I need any further directions to find her place.

Not long after, I had climbed the seven flights of stairs and was comfortably ensconced on her sofa sipping water (she did offer wine but I thought I'd wait for the others).  I then learnt a little of her life story - she left El Salvadore over 20 years ago and  is married to a Belgian man. She lived in Greece for 5 years but when her husband got cancer, they moved back to Belgium. He is currently back in Greece after having survived cancer. Blanca wants to return to Greece as she enjoyed it there and has a workshop - she is a ceramic artist, but she is currently studying French and Greek and making ceramics while she waits for the Greek economy to improve. (She showed me some jugs, plates and bowls she had made and they were magnificent - sorry no photos as I didn't think to take my camera with me.)

Soon the other guests arrived: Michel, a Belgian neighbour; I think he was retired  - he certainly had travelled a lot; Sashinka: a Bulgarian classmate plus her daughter and boyfriend; and Monique: a Belgian woman who takes Greek classes with Blanca. She told me she was an independent midwife but you had to be very careful of the hours you worked or you would pay a lot of tax. Mostly, we spoke French - we would have been speaking French only but Sashinka's Bulgarian  boyfriend spoke Bulgarian and English - no French. Of course the speaking became freer as the red wine flowed.

Dinner was  international - a Thai dish of poulet au coco, rice, a couscous salad, a Belgian green salad made with chicons (endives) and ratatouille. Delicious! This was followed by Poivres Belle Helene - pears cooked in a syrup which are then covered in chocolate. Yum. Unfortunately, I had to leave at 10pm to catch the bus back to Granny's. It was a really enjoyable night.

There was only one bad moment and that was when I exited Blanca's building and was accosted by a drunk man wanting money. I told him I didn't speak very good French in the hope that he would leave me alone, but he then asked for money in very good English! I have to say that I just strode off very  quickly and didn't look back. I heard him saying something but it was unintelligible - probably luckily!

Today, I slept in as it's Saturday and I had nothing in particular planned except for some domestics. However, I have made some bread. I  made some bread for the first time ever when I left Chantal's. She makes her own bread and it's scrumptious. My first loaves were the shape of rocks and just as solid. I had only had a few days at Granny's and she was being very polite and insisted on eating some of the bread. Well, she very nearly broke her teeth! Fortunately, she had an automatic bread slicer and I found the bread reasonably edible when toasted. I made a second batch (well, I had already bought the flour, the levure and the sesame and sunflower seeds)  a couple of weeks later and  somewhat immodestly, I will tell you that the bread was good. So good that you could actually eat it as bread.

My Belgian rustic loaf - this one was edible!

In the spirit of economising, I've made bread again this week - we'll see if it becomes a habit. 

I go to Brussels – again!

Last week I went to Brussels. No, not primarily for the chocolate or the museums or the mannequin pis, but to vote. Some of my Belgian acquaintances were interested to know that  although we must register, we don’t have to vote in NZ. (It is compulsory to vote in Belgium.) ‘Why would I want to do that if I had a choice not to?’  I expect that they are a little politically fatigued here as they are now over 500 days without a government. (They have agreed on the four regions but the major sticking point is the budget).

Grand Place

 I actually went to Brussels for the first time in the one-week holiday at Toussaint. It’s an hour to an hour and a half from here depending on whether you get the train that stops twice or the one that stops everywhere. I had read up on Brussels on the internet and I also had a copy of Lonely Planet.

 Arriving at the Central Railway Station, I followed the majority of people who were exiting the station. I was tempted to check the Lonely Planet to make sure I knew where I was, but because I had been warned about pickpockets and didn’t want to make myself an obvious target, I didn’t get out the book or the map. That was a shame because after 10 minutes of walking I hadn’t reached the Grand Place. Finally, I asked someone where it was and he pointed me in the opposite direction (I spoke to him in French but he answered me in perfect American accented English!).

When you know what you’re looking for , finding the Grand Place is easy – the town hall which is situated in Grand Place has a grand tower and you can see this tower from most places.Grand Place is surrounded by beautiful buildings – some gilt edged. Apart from the town hall, these buildings are occupied by shops (mostly chocolateries) and cafes and there’s also a museum on one side.  The Mannekin pis is close by and easy to find – you just follow all the other tourists! The statue itself is rather petite but directly opposite there was a larger replica in chocolate. Much as I love chocolate, there are some things I prefer not to eat!

Mannekin pis

Mannekin pis au chocolat

 Following this, I had a quick scout around the older part of the city and browsed the galleries which were full of expensive shops, some cafes and wonderful chocolateries: Galler, Neuhaus, Corne and especially the aptly named ‘Mary’. Naturally, I had to check out the Mary chocolate shop. I must point out that it had the most understated of the shop windows which were brimming with tempting chocolates.  I tried some of their fresh cream chocolates – delicious -  and brought a few home for Granny. The saleswoman told me that the King of Belgium buys his chocolates from Mary’s – obviously he has good taste!

Has to be the best choc shop in Brussels!

After all that chocolate eating, I wandered round a little, up and down Rue des Bouchers looking for Mannekin Pis’s little sister but, failing to find her, I went instead to the Musee des Beaux Arts. I must say I was never a huge fan of the 14-16^th Century Flemish painters but perhaps something of Belgium is rubbing off on me as I saw Brueghel’s  Apocalyptic  and Peasant paintings with fresh eyes. After a couple of hours there, I popped next door to the Margritte Museum for a lesson in surrealism.

Macarons et chocolat at Jean-Philippe Darcis

I tried to return to Brussels the following week but alas, there was a train strike and I was unable to get there. So, last Tuesday I set off to vote. It was a slow start as the first two trains didn’t go (one broke down but I’m not sure what happened to the second one).

 Finally, I arrived in Brussels and exited the train station full of confidence. 25 minutes later, I arrived at Rue Des Nerviens . I entered the building but couldn’t open the next door. It had a sign ‘tirez’ on it which I understood was French for ‘pull’ ( I was reminded for a moment of that Gary Larsen cartoon  card ‘School for the Mentally Gifted’ which shows a person attempting to push a door open with the sign ‘pull’). Thankfully,   a young woman arrived and told me I needed to press the no. 7 button for the NZ Embassy. A voice inquired as to why I was there and after I had replied satisfactorily, the door automatically opened. I would point out that there were no instructions as to pushing this button so I wonder how other people get on who try to visit the NZ Embassy?

The display at Neuhaus for St Nicolas (Dec 6)

 On the 7^th Floor, I was ushered in to a small room with some voting papers and a NZ official arrived to oversee the process. He told me he had been on a couple of immersion courses – six weeks each time but he didn’t often speak French and it was too easy to speak English in Brussels. I have to say that I was a little disappointed with the  reception at the Embassy, I was rather hoping for a cup of tea ( with real milk) and  a biccy – ok so the biccy was a bit optimistic - but no it was all very official and staid! Never mind, I had done my duty and voted!

 Soon I was back in a little street off the Grand Place sampling speculoos at Dandoy’s. ‘The original speculoos maker’. They are a spiced biscuit far superior to the factory-produced ones. As Granny had directed me to this delicious place, I took some speculoos home for her. There was another trip to Mary’s to taste a few more chocolates and then, this time, I found the Mannekin Pis’ sister along with a school group who were also taking lots of pictures.

Jenneke sister of Mannikin!

 I ended my trip with a visit to the Museum of Musical Instruments – really to see the panoramic view of Brussels from the top floor but actually, I found the instruments from all over the world, some more than a thousand years old, very interesting. You can plug in earphones at various points and hear the weird and wonderful instruments being played. Finally, it was time to return to Liege but there will be another trip to Brussels as I want to go to the Atomium  and the Comic Strip Museum.

A view of Brussels from outside the Museum of Musical Instruments

French Lessons

French Lessons continue and we are deep into pronoun territory. It is terribly important to know the correct order of the pronouns in a sentence. Madame D continues to be passionate about the teaching of French grammar and relentless in the correcting of our spoken French. However, we do not get much opportunity to do a lot of speaking as, on average, there are about 34 of us.The three hours usually go reasonably quickly and we do have a 'petite pause' for coffee about half-way.

We tend to sit in the same places now and it is somewhat frowned upon to change! My neighbours are usually Zena from Syria and Jessica from Ecuador. Zena tells me that what we see on tv about Syria is all lies and it is a peaceful country with happy people. She is married to a Syrian guy who is doing his PhD at the University of Liege. Jessica is learning Italian as well as French. She says Italian is easy to learn as her first language is Spanish and it is very similar.

On Wednesdays, Madame D has been playing French songs - we've had two so far - where we listened to the songs and tried to write down the words and then later translated them. It's a welcome change from French grammar exercises. The first song was rather fast  - a chap called Danyel Gerard singing 'D'accord, D'accord'.  I did think I recognised the chipmunks in the background but apparently it was just the backing sound in 1964 when it was first recorded. If you want to check it out you can see a rather cool Danyel avec cigarette singing on this link:http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x6q52n_danyel-gerard-d-accord-d-accord_music . This week we had a much slower song called 'Armstrong' as in Louis by Claude Nougaro. I really enjoyed it. It seemed to be a response to Armstrong's 'What a wonderful world':
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTVCjQ_zlBM&feature=related.

Incidentally, at my choral group we are learning a much more modern song in French by a Belgian singer STROMAE - it was a big hit in Europe last year 'Alors ...on danse' which may be more your cup of tea - very catchy even if you don't understand all the words! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHoT4N43jK8&ob=av2e

The mood in the class is often lightened  by the presence of one particular student. Marta is large of body and personality. She hails from Angola and tells us she speaks excellent Portuguese. Her spoken French seems reasonable, although, because she speaks often and loudly, Madame D often uses her as an example for correction.  Marta first came to the attention of the class when, on arriving an hour late, she entered the room and found that there were few seats left. Madame D was in the midst of a technical explanation but Marta was intent on sitting down. She found herself a table and chair which she dragged over to one side of the room, making  a racket as she went. She then sat herself down in front of the door. When Madame D pointed out to her that she was sitting in front of the only exit and entry point, Marta then dragged the table across to the other side of the room. Since that occasion, Marta has become attached to the desk (metaphorically speaking)  which is the only one where you can sit by yourself. However, the disadvantage of this desk is that it becomes the serving point for the coffee at 'la petite pause'. Marta is not impressed with the inability of her classmates to pour their coffee and milk directly into their cups. Marta also has a love of her GSM (what they call a cellphone here) although Madame is slowly training her to have her conversations outside the room. Marta is the student who asks the question 5 minutes after Madame D has already answered it! Despite her severity towards Marta at times, I think Madame D has a soft spot for her.  There is something engaging about her. The other day as we left class, I spoke in French to Florence, a woman from Togo. Marta exclaimed in perfect English: 'You're English. Speak English! I love English. I used to be able to speak it when I lived in Angola but I've forgotten how to now."http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHoT4N43jK8&ob=av2e