Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Ik ben van hier

I’m a local and I’m from here… well, it’s beginning to feel like it.

It’s been a while since my last post. But for good reason.

February is Carnival Time in most parts of Belgium; something to do with celebrating Lent … or something. Whatever the reason, the streets of many local towns have been lined with confetti, marching bands, men dressed as women, women dressed as men, kids dressed as aliens and policemen dressed as policemen. Awesome, see:





I had the fortune of experiencing a Carnival in one of East Flanders’ smaller towns; I had such a good time, and the entire experience has left me feeling like a local! Here’s why:

It all started off at a local night club; an evening to kick the Carnival Season off. My oh my. I’ve never seen anything like it.

The venue was decked out in 70’s dance-floor chiq. And this was after the “refit”. And trust me, they were not trying to be 70’s cool or anything. The décor just was… despite itself. It was 70’s cool by mistake. We’re talking mirrors and syncopated lights here, baby.

But that’s not it. You had to wait until the music started. When the locals began to dance. I tell you… every style of music, danced to by every type of person, in every possible dance style.

It was a menagerie of people (farmers, their daughters, the dude who ran the chippie down the road, his mom, her husband) dancing to their own beat to as many styles of music.

It had the kind of innocence and hyped anticipation that a high school dance had for me back in the day. It was awesome. Everyone just having good, honest, fun. And they pretty much didn’t care who you were or how you danced. Good and downright honest fun. I was sucked in and am now tainted for life. Loved it.

Levels of localness were heightened when – after a mere 11 months of intensive practice – I poured a glass of Duvel in the proper manner and achieved the acceptable amount of head; that is, with enough white stuff to cap Everest. See:



You see, for some strange reason, Belgians – one of the biggest brewing nations in the world – have figured out that drinking a beer with at least a few centimetres’ head, is a good thing. And they’ve told no-one else.

And as such, there is an incredible technique (well, I’ve found anyway) combing wrist twisting, angeled pouring and some inert chanting that allows you to pour the perfect glass of Duvel beer. And this was the weekend that it was perfected for me. I am such a local, now.

My local pub had also just started a sing-along night on Sundays. Most songs are in Flemish. True gems like “Dis altijd lente in de ogen van die tandaardsassisente” (It’s always Springtime in the Eyes of the Dental Hygeniest) and others. Just have to love the Flemish. If you don’t count the coughing, spitting and choking, I almost sound Flemish (and local), too.

Top cap it all off, the lady at my local Fruituur (chippy) complemented me on my Flemish. The very same lady that giggled at my first attempts at ordering chips some months ago.

Oh, what it is to be (almost) local.


P.S. Snow had also come to Antwerp. At last! As an African boy, I still revel in it! Though riding in it on my bike, I had a few small minor wipe-outs. Thankfully the snow broke my fall.

Friday, February 09, 2007

I have built a treehouse!

At last, here it is! My video of I'm from Barcelona, appearing at de Nachten. It's only 25 seconds long, so there's another proper video just after the jump of the same song.





I'm From Barcelona-toilet concert @ Virgin Radio

Friday, February 02, 2007

Global warming 'man-made'



These news headlines made me smile.

Experts, scientists and clever folk around the world have now concluded that global warming is almmost certainly man-made.

Well done on that remarkable observation.

Sure, there's been some talk about our current spate of weather just being part of a huge meteorological cycle.

But come on... who else could have created pollution, de-forestation, CFC gasses and volumous carbon emissions? Oompa-loompa's? Hobbits from the Shire? Ewoks?

Next, they'll be confirming that beer, drunk in sufficient quanities, produces all the effects of drunkeness.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

The Nights in Antwerp

Last weekend was supercool music fest De Nachten at de Singel; a truly eclectic and incredibly out-of-this world musical experience. Typically Belgium. Or at least Antwerp. In fact, I am so convinced that there is something in the air, the water or the (whatever is left) that makes Antwerpernaars what and who they are. Quite strange. But David Bowie Strange. Not Boy George Strange.

A fantastic celebration of music it was, too. Prima Donkey. Stijn. Daan (a male Alison Goldfrapp). Absynthe Minded. Fellow South African Gert Vlok Nel. And the wired happy-go-lucky-balloon-throwing-confetti-tossing-29-member-strong group of I’m from Barcelona. Words cannot describe their performance! Truly out of this world. Filled with joy and much tom-foolery, they designed, built and then detonated a happy bomb at de Singel. They’re living proof that it doesn’t take much to make humans happy: some balloons, confetti, happy music and some dancing around. Here’s a pic; I'll try to publish some video later, but having hassles with YouTube:



Here’s a thought. I enjoyed a lovely set from Canadian group Cowboy Junkies. Beautiful wrist-slitting music in the style of Tori Amos and Eddie Reader. But at several times during the performance, the lead singer would turn her back to the audience; even walk off stage to have a natter with some other bloke… during a song. It was like the audience was never there. Rude or artistic? I dunno. Anyhow, apparently Miles Davies used to do that too. So it’s ok, then I guess.



At one point during the festival, I was asked to help the backstage crew pack up. Sure. I mean, how hard could it be? Tell you what, I’ve never felt so idiotic in all my life. I was asked by big burly backstage riggers (each had a name just one syllable long), “Do you know how to roll cables”. No. I do not. “Do you know how to dismantle a speaker tower?” No. I do not. “Do you know to de-rig a whatchamacallit?” No. I do not. What’s a whatchamacallit?

All I could do, after 30 years of intense training for what was to become my life, was push. Yes. That was the extent of it. Pushing storage boxes and trolleys, packed with the said cables, speakers and whatchamacallits. Mid-way in the process, I ran away, under cover of a big speaker flight case, never to be seen by the crew again.

Anyhow, the night did leave me with a new found respect for all things backstage. And for the folk that work for the theatre companies – they have to do everything.

But in all, de Nachten was a musical treat to behold and be-enjoy. Highly recommended, if you can make it next year.

See some of my pics of the event are on Flickr.

Anyhow. Back to this Antwerp-iness. Bunch of cool-ness all around. Check out this guy I spotted at de Singel...



Possibly no older than 3, smoking a pipe. Cool or contrived? Answers on a postcard, please.


And tonight is some kind of pancake night in Antwerp. Could it be Ash Thursday? I dunno. So, I have bought ingredients. And will make pancakes. But those of you who know and appreciate my skills (or lack thereof) in cooking could quite rightly be justified in thinking that the evening will end in unmitigated disaster. Or at least the completely unnecessary destruction of several eggs and a spoon. Which is why I have also bought pre-made pancakes as backup – just in case the originals do not work.

Like most things in life, I'll give it my best shot. But there's always a back-up plan. I think, yeah?