Riots, Diplomacy, and Waffles...oh my!

The following post is abridged in order to spare my family the concern of a slightly scandalous—while at the same time professional and diplomatic—visit to Brussels, Belgium. For my diehard readers, the complete and unabridged version will post  on my alternative underground blog at “whatjessisreallydoing.blogspot.com”.   Careful-- you need to knock three times and answer the encrypted password to enter

Now if you clicked on that link, please go to the comment box at the bottom of this blog and type in, “I”… you must publicly admit that you took me seriously.

You may have noticed that Brussels was not on the original itinerary, but I made a quick 60-hour stop to that waffle-eating city to stop into the European Commission (they do research, make recommendations, and write regulations for the European Union Parliament ) to discuss the new European Flood Directive with the parties in charge. 

   here’s the inside … it’s a really neat building.

 I realize that there are no pictures of me at the EC, but I swear I was legitimately there.  And spoke with real people.

I thought perhaps the experience would have been to fancy for me, but alas. Not at all.  I did wear close-toed shoes though for anyone who was wondering (and this MUST mean it is a dressy occasion).

And good coffee and croissants too!  I may hold off on posting my findings from these meetings until a later date but rest assured, they were very informative.

 I had the opportunity to connect with two commissioners, one I had met last year in a class on European Water Policy, and the other is in charge of Europe’s new Flood Policy.  Bear stayed at home during my meetings because I could not find him a suit.  He is still a bit angry.

now on to other things...

One key event shall mark Brussels in my memory forever.

But first, the setting…
The Grand Place, or Grote Maarkt (the two official languages in Belgium are Dutch and French).  This plaza is site of the former Breadmakers guild, currently a museum, and a number of other likely important things.  I did not have a travel book for this place and I have forgotten what everything is.  When I arrived on Tuesday night, someone took me to the Grote Maarkt (I’ll go with Dutch because I like it better than French) and as it was all lit up. 

I had to stop to catch my breath.  It was beautiful.

It's too big to actually capture all in one photo... but you are surrounded by these kind of buildings.  Also a UNESCO World Heritage Site (my trip seems to be filled with them.. who knew Flooding was so Heritage-like?)

I am slightly glad I did not have my camera at this first glance because I may not have been able to take it all in that moment.  I returned to this place every day for a sandwich, a beer (so many good Belgian beers here!), to walk around, to people watch, and to riot.

Thursday afternoon post EU-meeting, I took to wandering Brussels solo and ended up at a café in the Grote Maarkt to sit down, write some postcards, and have a drink. (*note these post cards met their fate in a brussels taxi along with all my notes, so if by the end of this trip you do not receive a post card from me, you can blame the Taxi-driver's lack of good nature).

There were a number of Dutch football (European, therefore I mean soccer) fans in the plaza because the European League had a game in Brussels against Anderlecht in Brussels that evening and Ajax Amsterdam was playing.  When I sat down, the waiter approached me and laughed, saying I was quite “brave”.  I chuckled in return, over-confidently, because little did he know, I grew up tailgating at the Big House (that’s Michigan Football for all of you non-sports lovers) and with three brothers.  But I did look around and notice I was one of only 3 women in the entire place. 

I began to notice why the server had approached me.

I sat uninterrupted for a good while until a man (drunk) across the way from me began to yell things to me.  It was in Dutch however, so I said I didn’t speak it.  Given the use of his hand gestures, I’m assuming he wasn’t serenading me with Shakespeare.  After I asked him for “English please,” the words he chose were quite… exquisite—so much so that I shall not repeat them here. J At this moment, I regretted not having asked my Dutch friends how to use Dutch bad words such that I might have defended myself at this point.  But, being the creative girl that I am, I resorted at long last to use of the good ole’ American middle finger and carried on for a while longer with no interruptions.  The British men next to me expressed they were impressed.

… A very friendly and hilarious American couple sat down next to me and we struck up a conversation as they were from the Midwest too and also have it in their personality to become best friends with someone they just met...they took this picture of me

Perhaps 15-20 minutes later, the number of football fans around the square multiplied (hundreds now) as did their blood alcohol level and the number of police in the square.  This made me curious.  Hundreds of soccer fans then proceeded to sing the songs of Amsterdam’s football team so it echoed throughout the plaza. It actually sounded really cool! Listen in here.

 Things carried on in this fashion for quite sometime and then the fans began to move parts of the bar (like trays and glasses) INTO the plaza to play soccer with them.  The trays were entertaining (see clip) however, much to their surprise, glasses don’t bounce the way soccer balls do!

 So began the scene. I sat completely amused.  I think it DEFINITELY beats out the car fires students set at Flordia-Florida State football games or in Columbus where Buckeyes fans (boooooo!) get out of hand.

Not long after, the riot police showed up with helmets, shields, clubs, you name it. Supposedly tear-gas but we didn’t actually see it.

We moved just inside the café to observe (but not until I got video footage of course) until it all settled down. It didn’t take long as there were really only a couple of obnoxious fans, but the police came mostly to make a presence and a point. 

Then the police were lined up on each side of the square looking very official and we had decided to start moving out.  However, not before my Polly and David (the couple from Milwaukee) encouraged me to take my picture with the police.  Or rather, I said I really wished I could take my picture with them, and they assured me my dreams could come true.  I love meeting people willing to indulge me in my fantasies.

Here is me on one side,  (yes, I’m laughing)

But… we were convinced we could get closer.

So, as briefly as my trip to Brussels began, so shall it end.  I’ll leave you with this image which will forever represent Brussels to me, far more than could any waffle, beer, or piece of chocolate.  And for the record, could you have been there with us, arranging the shot was equally as entertaining as the photo itself.