In Bruges

The most beautiful city I visited this year is Bruges. I wanted to go to Italy, but running low on my student’s allowance, it seemed I would have to postpone that plan. Then one of my classmates suggested, “Why don’t you go to Bruges? It is regarded as the Venice of the North”. My mind went back to the movie In Bruges with Colin Farrell, and I thought it would be a good enough compromise. So off I went, on a four hour train ride with four friends.

As soon as you arrive, the saying that old is gold comes to mind. You get off the train, cross the highway, walk a few metres and it already feels as if you just stepped into a past era: You walk on cobbled streets, the echo of your footsteps and those of other tourists reverberating through the narrow streets. You cross water canals that meander through picturesque buildings, and on the horizon, your eyes follow the spire of a church. And as if this is not enough, horse-drawn carriages pass you by on the streets, side by side with bicycles and cars.

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Bruges is located in the northwest, Flemish region of Belgium. The historic city centre is a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Its medieval architecture has been lovingly maintained: Old brick buildings, narrow cobbled streets, monuments and numerous museums are a testament to the city’s rich history. Judging from the crowds of tourists streaming in everyday, it’s obvious what the main livelihood of the city residents is.

We stayed at a small family run hotel (breakfast included), and I swear there was so much delicious bread and coffee every morning, that I couldn’t believe that I still had space for hot chocolate and waffles… but I did. We squeezed in a day trip to nearby Gent as well. I know I will go back. You see, I did not take a boat ride, and I imagine how heavenly that would feel like on a nice summer day. Furthermore, if the city centre is that beautiful, I imagine a tour of the countryside will be as well, and I just have to find out.

Am I finally growing up?

The years are advancing, the time when one is not supposed to say their age out loud is fast approaching, or so I’m told. Oh, I don’t know much about that, but I like the comfort that comes with knowing me a bit longer (sort of like an old friend to myself). In summary, the surface looks like this:

Health: I don’t have a health problem (yet), I love my habits and yes, I know some of them could have lasting consequences. I love them anyway. Sports should balance everything out, and an apple a day. No, I don’t need two litres of water per day. Neither do the people who live in the desert.

Love: Margaret Mitchell said, “I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken — and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.” I seem to be following this trend.

Looks: My more stylish friends are always pointing out what I need to change. It’s dawning on me that some things will remain the same. No, I won’t grow my hair until I really feel like it, I don’t wear little, girly dresses because I don’t know how, and I don’t like heels because I’m already as tall as I’d like to be.  All the same, I am glad to have friends who care.

Profession: I finally figured out what I want to do, digging my heels in and hanging in there. To be honest, I don’t think I will ever grow rich doing what I do. But those are thoughts for my next birthday.

Social life: Not a party animal. Not a social butterfly. Not a super star. Yet solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.

Every year on my birthday, I make grand pronouncements about the future (illusions induced by something other than natural high spirits and augmented by other people’s expectations of me). This year, I think I will break this habit. No resolutions, no grandiose schemes, just a few personal plans to take the future in manageable bits. Mark you, it does not mean that I will stop dreaming.

Culture shock: A German and his money

One month after I came to Germany, someone I had met in Kenya, and who had expressed his interest in getting to know me better, invited me to go out and spend the afternoon in the park. He suggested that we stop at the supermarket to buy some snacks. We both picked what we wanted to eat and when we got to the till, he separated his goods from mine and paid for himself. I quickly pulled out my wallet, thanking God that I had enough scholarship Euros to pay the 3 Euros for my things (True story, and I was there).

I have to admit that I felt quite embarrassed, and this embarrassment grew in dimension when I thought that everyone else was observing us. During my intercultural communication class, in which we are taught how to get along in different cultural settings, I tried to analyze this incident.

• Germany is generally a low-context culture (i.e., where everything has to be spelled out orally), so if you’re invited out, do not expect anyone to pick up your tab if they didn’t expressly tell you that they were “inviting” you.
• People here are more individualistic, that is, they do not have the spontaneous communal “let me buy you a drink” mentality that we have.
• Long-term planning of the way time and money are spent is the rule, and not the exception. Even simple things like going out for a coffee or visiting someone should be discussed in advance. Spontaneous, unplanned expenditure and sharing that could make people veer off their plans, and considering the fear of uncertain financial future, it is almost inconceivable to just “get up and do something”.
• But then again, this man’s behavior could have been informed by his own time in Kenya. Let’s face it, there are many women who get into relationships with Mzungus with the sole purpose of getting money from them. Maybe he thought that I was also after his money.

Okay, now I understand it. It doesn’t change the way I felt. I was kind of uncomfortable for the rest of the afternoon because I had no idea what to make of this odd behavior. On one hand, I felt that he was either mean or he had a wrong opinion of me, and that he thought I was after his money. On the other hand, maybe I was being too quick to judge him.

This incident got me thinking about the many Kenyan girls whose goal is to hook a Mzungu, move to Europe or America and live easy on his cash. If these cultural dimensions I’m learning about are anything to go by, some of them may be very disappointed when they realize just how much they have to pay their own way.

 As for me, I’m moving on swiftly, paying my own way and trying to understand the often strange cultural norms that I’m confronted with daily.

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A Kenyan’s view of Christmas in Germany

Usually, the Christmas season starts off with me hustling other passengers to get a place on the bus and bumpy (sometimes dangerous) journey up-country to join those family members who make it to spend time in our shags or rural home. We clear out the dust that has gathered in our rooms during our time looking for money in the city and settle down for a few fuss-free days of relaxation, reconnecting and nyama and kuku choma, all centred around the 25^th of December.

So you can imagine my surprise at how seriously Germans take their Christmas traditions. Christmas season starts in earnest a month early. The decorations start coming up, lots of colour, red and gold and green everywhere you look. The mood among the people changes, they become festive, eager, joyful and light-hearted, like children.

Four Sundays before Christmas, an advent wreath is laid out. It is made out of fir or pine branches. Four candles are placed in the centre, and one is lit every Sunday. The last is lit on Christmas Eve, which is the most important time of this season. In addition, there is an advent calendar with little flaps which are opened by children everyday to reveal the Christmas picture underneath, as they count down the days to Christmas. A decorated Christmas tree is part and parcel of this tradition, as are gifts, which are also opened on Christmas Eve evening.

When I thought of the number of Germans I’d met who regarded religious devotion and Christianity with derision, scorn or skepticism, I commented to my colleague, “For people who don’t believe in God, I’m surprised at how much goes into celebrating the birth of his son Jesus Christ!”

My colleague offered another perspective: Even those who do not believe in God have a reason to celebrate, as they finally get to spend time with their loved ones and give them gifts to illustrate their love. As for the cost, what does it matter if they buy expensive gifts? If they were often away because of work, then at least, the end justifies the means.

True. I guess that is what we do as well, toil through the year and spend time with the family at Christmas time.

So in summary, my views this Christmas:

The good: Regular visits to the Christmas Market (Weihnachtsmarkt) to drink hot spiced wine, called Glühwein look at the variety of handicrafts and sample the sweet treats to be found there; and the prospect of spending Christmas Eve with newly found friends from all over the world and knowing that we’ll have a fabulous time.

The bad: Knowing that this year, I’ll be far away from the people with whom I have always spent this time, family and friends back home.

The ugly: Observing and wondering if this frantic consumer culture is really necessary, and being reminded about the economic disparity between developed and developing countries.