The Magritte Museum: My 2 cents worth retrospect

Brussels, Belgium
1500 hours
Date: Classified (hehe, I just wrote this for added effect)


Rene Magritte.

For commoners like me, he is known as the person who painted the "Man in the Bowler Hat with a green apple head" in one of ex-James Bond's more popular movies "The Thomas Crown Affair".

Now, to take my common knowledge about this man to a higher level and to bring my ignorance to a lower level, I did a bit of research before visiting the museum, and this is what I found out: René François Ghislain Magritte is a Belgian who had lived 68 "art-full" years in Belgium and in France, visiting the US a couple of times as he had 2 solo exhibitions there during his lifetime. He was the eldest of 3 sons, his father was a tailor, his mom was a milliner (ofcourse, I didn't know what a "milliner" was and I didn't have time to look this up yesterday before we left (*wink*) but now, interestingly, as I looked it up and contrary to my initial silly fantasies that it might have been a typo or that it was the Filipino pronunciation for the word "millionaire", a milliner is a word that originated from Milan, Italy referring to someone who designs, makes, trims, and sells women's hats).

Hmmm...interesting...

The Museum allocated 3 floors purely for the display of his life and works. For a staggering price the equivalent of 1 movie ticket (Belgian not Philippine) you can get a sneak peak into the life and works of one of the most influential painters of all time.

The tour starts on the 3rd floor down to the 1st, where the juicy paintings are. Just like what I read on wikipedia hours before (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rene_Magritte), pretty much everything about his life that is known was there as inscriptions on glass mounted on the walls. Everything that I remember reading was there except for that bit about him having supported himself during the time of the war by reproducing Picasso paintings, among others, and forging bank notes, having an affair with a surrealist model, and his wife also having an affair with another man and at one point filed for divorce. But well, this isn't E! Gossip, this is my retrospect of the Magritte Museum. Ehem...

At the entrance of the 3rd floor a disclaimer was given that out of respect for Magritte, they displayed his works and notes in their original version, French. If you did not understand French then it's your problem (the latter was not part of the disclaimer;). So as part of their respect for Magritte it wasn't really very nice to include something nasty about his past which was highly understandable. If I were Magritte I wouldn't want that either. Other people had bad hair days in the past, or terrible tastes in clothes, or just made bad decisions. He opted forgery to support himself in a time of crisis, when the Germans occupied Belgium during World War II. There is no shame in that, I guess. He just did what he was best at. For the other tidbits, hey...What else is new?

For a couple more Euros, the museum can provide you with a mobile phone looking device that, at the press of a button, can give you more anecdotes apart from what is visibly there, on whatever it is that you may be looking at. The titles of the paintings were in French, Dutch, and English, respectively. But well, if you can very well read and have no desire to join the Magritte Quiz Bee at the end of the tour, then a regular, savory walk through the museum would suffice. You may ofcourse, look for another patron who has one of those mobile phone looking devices and stand really close to him/her so you can also hear the audio free of charge. If it is not in YOUR desired language they might be kind enough to switch it to YOUR preference if you ask extra-nicely...all at your own risk--ofcourse.

At times, we wondered if they didn't accidentally (or intentionally) switch the titles of the pieces to make the visitors even more confused or wonder some more. But among the things that I like about Magritte, I appreciate the fact that he "said" this:

"My painting is visible images which conceal nothing; they evoke mystery and, indeed, when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable." --René Magritte (Yes, not really grammatically correct but that's okay)

In my stroll, the paintings evoked different feelings. Some made me say "huh?" or "eww!", some made me giggle or just stare, the last few creations especially made me marvel at his journey through painting and at the outcome of his endeavors. Truly, he had mastered the art and had improved on it quite noticeably, at the latter part of his career.

Despite all those feelings though, I did not once feel stupid. With some painters, you just know that there is an even deeper meaning to their work and you just look at it and wrack your brains just trying to figure out whatever underlying meaning there might be coz you want to seem smart but in the end, feel stupid if you don't get it. With Magritte, it was different. You didn't have to get anything. Just look at it and appreciate it because you dare not interpret it coz he himself indirectly said that you'll be stupid if you do.

But some of his mysteries I might have understood through my mini-research: His mother, who was a milliner, died when he was still young. She was suicidal and eventually succeeded at killing herself through drowning. They say that he was there when she was found on the river...that's why he chose to be a surrealist, coz he knows that she's dead and would just like to think at times that she was still there somehow and that is depicted in his paintings. They say that that's why some of his subjects are veiled in white sheets or that he paints this or he paints that.

Maybe that's why he paints bowler hats.

On another note, I read that contrary to popular belief, it was the bowler hat and not the cowboy hat that was the most popular hat in the American West. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bowler_hat)

Going back, it is not uncommon knowledge that it is our past that makes us who we are. And what we do defines us. Sometimes mysteries cannot just be left as it is..because people have a natural curiosity that needs to be fuelled with answers. With answers come appreciation or a sense of peace or fulfillment. Whatever tickles one's fancy.

Bottomline, Magritte is right: Things are not always what they seem...

Siberia (from the "Huis van het Nederlands" series)

After two weeks of Dutch school (10 more to go) I find myself drowning in Dutch. I am still stuck reading (out loud): De Walvis and De Piraat; and so far, cannot pride myself just yet as I can only grasp a handful of words like: Walvis-Whale, Piraat-Pirate, Zeepaardjes-Seahorse, Dolfijnen-Dolfin, een-one, er leefde eens-there once lived...

In my quest to learn Dutch I really wonder when I can incorporate these words in normal conversation: "So, you really have nice dolfijnens here in Belgium." "Oh! Look at that Piraat!" "What a cute zeepaardjes!"

Hmmm...I wonder when...but still, I will continue reading (with conviction): De Walvis en De Piraat (and no, this book is not a pop-up).

Another thing that made me say that I am drowning in Dutch is an incident that happened just this morning.

At the climbing/bouldering gym, I was reading a tarpaulin logo (reading signs out loud is something I try to form a habit of to practice pronunciation) AVVENTURA: Your Favourite Ski and Outdoor Shop. As I was mentally reading it, I was pronouncing "favourite" as "fah-voh-rit", which is the Dutch pronunciation. Immediately, I thought (and was quite confused): Is there a "Your" word in Dutch (and I could feel my head "The Matrix"-cally scanning my database for the Dutch possessive pronouns that we've learnt in class. It was only a couple of seconds later that I realized that the ad wasn't really in Dutch. It was in English. I can only blame the 9am Belgian indoor climate. After that, I drank my coffee.

We had our first major exam last Thursday. Upon getting our results on Friday I was so disappointed with myself. One mistake!?! I felt really frustrated. So far, I haven't heard of anybody who perfected the exam coz I was 30 minutes late for class (some things never change) and I didn't really have it in me to ask...but one mistake?? I felt that I was not only a student in the class but I represented my country as well in that now 15 person class. I am the only Filipina and the best I could do was a 19 over 20? My best friend was the Valedictorian and the best I could come up with was a 19 over 20?? What impression would the other nations have about me and my fellowmen???

Hahaha...even that new girl, L, from Siberia (who is now in the carpool with me and Mr. And Mrs. Count Dracula) got a 13! IF I had interpreted her language correctly. And she doesn't even speak English! Only Russian and German.

In class we have mastered the art of sign language and pictionary since most speak only a handful of English. I speak only a handful of Spanish, one Italian word, 7 French words, and no Russian--only the accent. They say that music is the universal language but please, let us not go there.

So I didn't initally know where L was from. I only know she is the only person in class who doesn't understand English AT ALL. So I asked her in Dutch, which has now become our "common" language, what her country was. Actually, if we had more time, we could devise a way of understanding each other with the use of Dutch numerics (een, twee, drie, vier...) as our lessons become more and more complicated and learning the language completely at the end of the "semester" has become bleaker and bleaker...

But still...I should not lose hope.

Anyway, I found out that L comes from Siberia. I was shocked! I asked her what the temperature was in Siberia. She didn't know how to say it so she wrote it on paper: -50 (celsius).

Huwaaaat???? Do I thank my lucky stars now that my near death experience here was a measly -5 degrees with wind?? For a moment there I became ashamed of myself. I always find it amusing how when I tell people that in my country 22 degrees is already cold they become quite shocked. Ha! It becomes their turn to be amazed.

I told her that it's common in the movies that Siberia is depicted as a place being really cold. Ofcourse, I told her that in the simplest English I could come up with. But I don't even know why I'm bothering as she doesn't understand it at all. She understands me more with my eyes and hand gestures. If I spoke in Visayan I bet she couldn't tell the difference. Hmmm...come to think of it, maybe I should try it. hehe *wink*

And well, I found out that they still go to school in Siberia and it's rare that classes get suspended in the 1 meter of snow. Go figure how they used to go to school in her time. But in the summer they are blessed with temperatures that go to a whopping 2 degrees! Woopie.

I should stop whining and look forward to spring.

Jacki woont nog maar 9 dagen in Belgie (from the "Huis van het Nederlands series")

Today was another interesting day at school.

The title means: Jacki has only been in Belgium for 9 days...or something like that.

Our trainer, for some reason, doesn't call on me often. Now, she calls on May a lot (the Thai girl), the Italian girl, the Americans ofcourse (I even think she has a thing for this other American guy--not the one that looks like Jack Black (refer to previous blog) and three new delegates of our United Nations group: a girl from Nicaragua and a couple from (wait lemme look at my notes first)--Chechenia. I honestly don't know where that country is (I do know Czech Republic and Russia and Croatia) and I think that's the country that CNN used to report about all the time with oorlog (war) and bombings. I think they pronounced it as "Shesh-nee-yah" in CNN but that guy pronounced it differently for sure. I'll google that later. Ofcourse, I didn't want to offend them by asking where their country was. hehe

Anyways, so here was our trainer chatting away in gibberish again when after a couple of questions and answers from my classmates, our trainer asked me the same question:

"Jacki, hoe lang woon jiy in Belgie?"

Literally translated as: How long live you in Belgium?

(and this is the punchline) I answered in the perfect Belgian accent: Ik woon 9 dagen in Belgie.

Kaching! Kaching! Kaching! Points for Jacki *dance around in circles*

Our trainer was shocked and ofcourse I couldn't understand her dutch afterwards but I did get the "Prima!" (Perfect) and "Heel goed!" (Very good) and a your Dutch is already very "mooi" (Beautiful) even if I'm "woont nog maar 9 dagen in Belgie".

Ehem. Enough said. What she didn't know is that I've been trying to learn it for months now through pimsleur and ofcourse, K: my personal trainer. hehe Shhh!

The Spanish girl was still lost but it's quite funny how when we were at the "Are you married? divorced? single?" part they had a hard time explaining to her what "getrouwd" (married) meant and she suddenly said: "Kasal?". I instantly had an impulse to say, "Mao!" or "Tsakto na!". hehehe I didn't know "kasal" was Spanish. The things you learn...

Last funny part: "Woon je samen? Ja, met mijn vriendin / vriend."

Translation: Are you living with someone? Yes, with my friend.

Our trainer was explaining the difference between vriendin and vriend. Apparently she wasn't quite clear about her explanation because she said that both are used for friends or partners but nothing specific for boyfriend or girlfriend (based on our understanding of her dutch).

So I uttered: So, vriendin can be used by gays?

And our trainer was a bit shocked and said: Nee, niet gays...just friends. hahaha

I just found that funny.

On my way home (I was actually dreading the 30min walk home in the rain. I try to stay away from buses for the meantime considering my traumatic, near death experience (haha exag!) last week), I passed by Nadia, the Russian hot mama, who was smoking on the sidewalk. We got into a short conversation (she had a very interesting Russian accent) and she told me that I could come along with her "zeenz her huzzbund eez peeking her op" and anyway zey alzoh leev at zee ozzer zide of our sztreet (that is not a foreign language but just my interpretation of what she sounded like). I was delighted by the invitation. :)

When her husband arrived we got into the car and it was like a cross between Mr. and Mrs. Richie Rich (Part 1) and Count Dracula. She and her husband, who is Belgian, call each other "My Dear" and she looked a little like Mrs. Rich what with her blond hair, make up, and white coat. They both looked so sweet together and spoke with the Count Dracula accent.

I think the next couple of weeks will be quite interesting.

No headaches today and no class tomorrow. Here in Belgium there are no classes on Wednesday. Woopie!

Huis van het Nederlands / The House of Dutch: My First Day of "School"

My turn to be a trainee instead of a trainer.

Yesterday was my first day of Dutch school. I was planning on bringing my laptop but I wanted to see first how the "environment" was. I didn't want to seem too geeky or intimidating. hehehe so I just brought with me a pad...and my barbie doll pencilcase (don't ask).

Well, there were 12 of us in the class. Some coming from Turkey, Russia, Italy, USA, Tunisia, Thailand, France, Peru, and ofcourse, one delegate from the Philippines. It was quite interesting actually...just like a mini United Nations thing. Next thing you know we'll be discussing world cultures and stuff like that. ;P

Maybe once a trainer always a trainer. The moment the introductions started I wrote down my co-trainees' names and where they were from. haha I noted that our trainer didn't do that so during the course of the class, she had to ask for our names over and over again and only called on those whose names she remembered. Apparently, with a bit of bitterness, she found it hard to remember my name and my Thai seatmate's name: May. Duh? :)

At the end of the 3 hour session I had a nasty headache. I dunno if it was because our trainer spoke in Dutch all the time and gave me the impression that she did not really have a very good command of the English language, coz seriously, she would just speak in Dutch ALL THE TIME. Yeah, she would translate a word or two in English every 30mins or so but jeez! You should have seen the look on our faces. My Thai seatmate on the left was like: "Wha doo wee doo agehn? Wha dus dah mean? I dow undahstan..." and my French seatmate to my right just had a blank look on her face and just spoke French most of the time coz even English she wasn't very good at. I would ask her every now and then if she was okay and she just had this pained look on her well made face. But I think I pity the Spanish girl the most coz all she kept saying was: Nee comprende. I agree, it was very difficult to internalize things if all you focus on are her actions and try to make sense of the words through her gestures.

But then again, that is still Day 1. Maybe I'm just used to Pimsleur (www.pimsleur.com) that translates everything in English and explains a bit about Dutch grammar rules. And repetition is very essential.

Oh, I forgot to mention the fact that the 3 Americans, well one in particular who resembled Jack Black a lot, were just so annoying. Maybe it's because my competitive mode button was turned on. He just kept on participating and pronouncing words incorrectly like English for example. In Dutch English is "Engels" pronounced "Eh-nguls" but they just kept on pronouncing it as "Eng-gulls". Well, the Tagalog might pronounce it as "Eng-gel" or Visayans as "Eng-gol" haha but that's another story. ;P

The trainer was not also very particular with pronunciation. Tsk tsk tsk. Even after mispronouncing English she would still say "Prima!" which means "Perfect". :)

But then again, I should always think that it was still Day 1. They say that in learning a language, "immersion" is the key. So I will stop writing now (more like whining actually) and start with home study so I get a heads up...just don't tell them that. *wink*

P.S. I was the only one in class wearing 3 layers of clothing. So embarassing. ;P

The Tale of the Filipina who got lost in Belgium

This is "Verloren" (Lost): A tale of a young pinay who, on her first time out alone in the cobbled streets of Belgium, expectedly ended up getting lost.

The story goes a little something like this...let us call the young lady: "J".

J had to be enrolled in a dutch class. Being a Filipina who only knew English, some tagalog w/ a visayan accent and ofcourse, Visayan, her native language, living in a country like Belgium requires a mastery of a couple of things, apart from layering. One of these things is the mastery of Dutch. Hence her trip to the House of Dutch.

Our tale begins with J being dropped off by her partner at the school. K, the partner, needed to get back to his workplace after lunch thus could no longer accompany J to the school to process the admin stuff. The independent J didn't mind. She was even able to make friends with the belgian registrar, who was ehem...quite impressed by her mastery of the English language and high test scores (NOTE: The day before, J took what she thought was a cognitive test for dummies at the same location (Google: Covaar Test). The registrar, not having had an inkling as to what a Philippine Peso looked like, was promised by J to be shown such the next time they met. He was most certainly pleased. No marks for extra belgian points were gained from this exchange though.

So, after asking the registrar to google for her what a bus stop looked like (as J knew for a fact that there were bus stops in Belgium, however, did not know how to detect one YET), J left the building took a right, then a right in search for the elusive bus stop. She finally arrived at the same bus stop her friend oriented her on the day before. (NOTE: Her friend, A, had to take her to the same building the day before, by the bus route, so J can be oriented as to how to get there should she need to do it more often in the future).

It is to be noted that the following instructions were noted / remembered:

1. From the house go straight to the city center and get on bus number 5 ONLY.
2. Swipe your bus card with the front facing you and don't hold on to it. Just insert it and wait for the machine to spit it back out.
3. Put the card back in your pocket. There is no need to punch out. As long as you don't exceed an hour, you can get on as many buses as you can. Additional note: Don't lose the card.
4. Ring the bell on the first bridge you pass and get off on the next bus stop. Additional note: NOT THE RED BELL. Ring the BLUE bell.
5. After getting off at the bus stop, just go straight and in the next intersection that forms a Y go left to Congostraat (Congo Street).
6. Destination reached: Inbergering / House of Dutch.
7. On going back: Just retrace your steps and take the same number 5 bus or any bus as these will pass by the city circle.

Easy, noh?

Yeah, it should have been a piece of cake and it really seemed like it except for one minor thing. I missed the part about having to get on the bus in the bus stop AT THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROAD. So poor, provincial J whose common sense had most likely been greatly affected by the cold, took some bus at the same side where she initially got off and ended up in the outskirts of Ghent that could not even be found in the main map and could barely be identifiable in Google Maps.

Confession: She doesn't even know if she got on bus number 5.

But after a couple of phone calls, some walking, waiting, and more freezing...after battling the fear of dying from hypothermia and getting frostbite, an hour and 45 minutes later she was back at the City Circle and had never been happier to see civilization, more so a familiar location.

8 hours later she is writing this note.

Her only consolation from this whole dummyscapade was that she thought she saw Gavin Rossdale get off the bus she was first on...

But then again...that could still have been the effect of the cold.


---The End---

Editor's Note: Crying has been censored from this essay.

What I Like About Belgium

I have been meaning to write this. I have always tried to be an optimist if I can help it and I think making this list helps me appreciate my new home even more. So here it goes (and not in any particular order):

1. The fresh air (most of the time anyway *wink*).
2. The cool breeze (that more often than not, ends up being a cold, bone-chilling, icy breeze--hehehe)
3. The way the government and the people are concerned about the environment. So here, waste segregation is a must, companies give their employees environmental certificates that they can use to buy environmental products like Ecover www.ecover.com, how the government give subsidies for house renovation if you make your house more environment friendly...and many more. :) This makes me very happy.
4. The chocolates ofcourse!
5. Speculoos pasta! and the new and improved crunchy Speculoos (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speculaas)
6. The systems (even the government systems ;p) are very organized.
7. Hot and cold showers and bubble baths!
8. A warm welcome in a cold country.
9. SALAMI!!! My favorite.
10. Yummy cheese.
11. I would say varieties of wine and beer but I seem to have recently developed an aversion for anything that contains alcohol lately. waaaah! Don't worry folks, this is just a phase. I will soon appreciate their wine and beer. :)
12. Cute clothes. It's interesting to just sit and watch the people that pass by. In my country, it's shorts / jeans, sandals or closed shoes, and a blouse / shirt. Here it is completely different and even just that, I find interesting.
13. Fast internet. Need I say more?? ;P
14. It's so easy to find somebody to do sports with...I haven't tried it though coz I'm still adjusting to the cold. Give me about 3 years and I'll start playing again. :P
15. The amusing dishwasher. ;P
16. The museums. We might visit the Magritte museum this weekend. Remember "The Thomas Crown Affair"?
17. The continent. Instead of island hopping this time it's quite easy to go "country hopping" coz they are ofcourse, all connected. This time, I am not in an archipelago.
18. The free library! I just found this out yesterday. It even has a whole music collection.
19. Cool houses. Belgians, apparently, are very good at interior design.
20. The fact that I don't have to miss K anymore...that much. ;P

My Letter to the Belgian Embassy

I was cleaning the house the other day and found a rough draft of one of my letters to the Belgian embassy. For every visit, I was required to give them a letter, together with the other requirements, stating my reasons for visiting, etc.

The letter which I gave them was handwritten (not on scented paper though—hehe) and of which I wrote in a rush. I just wanted to share it with you coz I found it hilarious (not to mention embarrassing!) and now I find myself asking: “What the heck was I thinking??!!@#%”



November 11, 2009


To Whom It May Concern:

First of all, I would like to thank you for allowing me to visit my partner, K, in Belgium last July of 2009. The two weeks in summer we spent together were priceless.

K will be spending the holidays here in the Philippines with me. We are looking forward to that very much. Long distance relationships are and will never be easy. We just try our best to make it work despite all the challenges because after all, love makes fighting for someone all worthwhile. (I honestly, cannot believe that I said this!)

This time though, K wants me to experience winter. Having lived all my life in a tropical country, that scares me a lot. But even if he lives in Antarctica I would still go there if he asked me to. I never intended for this letter to be cheesy but if ever you’ve been in love then you know what I mean. =) (the smiley was included)

We are asking to spend 3 months together there. K and I just need to be together. However, should winter bring me the slightest signs of hypothermia I would, unfortunately, have to come back sooner than expected and K and I would have to come up with another game plan. (Very funny, Jacki)

The next step would then be up to “tadhana” (destiny).

Thank you very much.


Sincerely,

JP



A rough draft of my letter