Girl Talk from Brussels to Antwerp enzovoort...

Five girls, all of them having worked together at least at one moment of their careers, in the same office, for the same purpose. Each of these girls are going through different experiences, aging 24, 28, 33 and 37, one has two children, three of them none, and one has a baby on the way... And what do these girls talk about? Babies, guys, love, sex, friends, work, politics, leisure, culture... ? Well all of it, mixed in between salads and home-made speculoos ice-cream! Conversing both in Dutch and French, but most importantly, in sincerity and simplicity. It is indeed that easy just to enjoy being together. And that's the way I like my friendships. Lieve, Leen, Stéphanie and Eve-Marie, thank you for being here and there... from Brussels to Antwerp enz.

Black Pearls in my cup

I live in an amazing neighborhood. The Saturday market on the parvis, the Librairie de Rome on the Jean Stas street next to the Avenue Louise where we love to weekly buy The Guardian and El Pais, and right in front of it, our coffee place, where we buy our coffee and where, for the first time, we sat to drink a great Jamaicain Blue Mountain, reading our freshly bought newspapers.
This place is one real great coffee place serving and selling coffees from everywhere around the world. I strongly encourage all of you who would visit Brussels to have a cup (or more) there. Not only is the coffee great, but the owner and his staff are so welcoming that you could spend hours there just drinking coffee and reading, in a black and brown, jazzy and very chic but not arrogant a bit atmosphere. The place is une petite perle as we could say in French... transforming beans into pearls.

Perle Noire
Shop Louise
Rue Jean Stasstraat 13
B- 1060 Brussels
info@perlenoire.be

Yesterday...

... was my birthday. Yesterday, was no special day, but it was still like no other. Not because of my birthday but because none of my days look like each other. But I still wanted to be a birthday girl and act like a kid, happy to receive gifts and calls and messages... I got the first one live at midnight... then the morning began with some unnecessary ones, reminding me how hypocritical families can be. Not caring a bit, I went to work, where I received presents from my dear colleagues (thanks guys for initiating me to dutch literature... after French, English, Spanish and Turkish... I'm finally going to read a novel in Dutch! I'll let you know how it went on in a next- not soon- post).

Going back home with my arms full of yellow flowers, I celebrated my birthday my own way in the streets of Saint-Gilles, first by offering a flower to the neighborhood's homeless who immediately shared the gift with his dog, then by stopping by the café where the owner (I guess he's Italian) immediately greeted me... the Italian way :)

Arriving to my final destination, home, I found myself covered with other gifts; my little brother's presence and outstanding mark for his French exam (8/10 for a kid who doesn't like to read ... that's an achievement!); another bouquet (white flowers, thanks again sweet, I love them) and a Marcolini pastry (no need to mention anything about this!!), and and... you don't need to have the whole list. Yes, I agree, I am lucky. But wait until you hear the end of the story... The next step for the evening was going to my dad's place, but when we arrived at the car, nothing seemed to work, the battery had been emptied! Our fault, we forgot to switch off a light inside the car. So we called dad so he could help us out with this... he played hero-dad of course and tried to push the car down the way... well, it didn't work out and we finally got to call a cab to help us fill up the battery with a bunch of cables (don't ask me how it works... I simply don't care). And we were finally ready to go at 9.30pm. What we did? Just hang out, stay together, have some laughs, playing with the kittens... just be together, for a not so special but still very nice day.

Patti and the Rabbits

Such a perfect day!

9 o'clock in the morning, I'm running to the Kaaitheater. Right outside the metro station, I'm meeting the most beautiful rabbit in the world. It was black and tiny, so little I could hide it in my hands. Afraid that it might get lost or killed while trying to cross the street, I slowly approached it, thinking where I could possibly take it when... without leaving me another second to think, it disappeared in its closed garden.

After my short but nice encounter with the black rabbit, I got back to work and ten hours later, I was standing in front of the Ancienne Belgique, where I did another great encounter... Patti Smith was just going out of the building, her camera in hand, ready to take amazing clichés of my city! While she went out, I got in. Our exchange had begun and went on one and a half hour later... and for the next two hours after that...

During the I- have- absolutely- no- words- to- explain -concert, I found myself with another rabbit... Alice's or Charlotte's, through the voice of Patti, the white rabbit was everyone's. But I felt even higher knowing that I had already begun my day with my own rabbit.

I'm glad I've spend it with you...

Crazy how it fell last night...

What do Rage Against the Machine, Audioslave and Dave Matthews Band have in common? You may say many, starting with "music", then adding "good" to it, or you may not... anyway, for last night, they had one guitarist in common: Tom Morello. First as an opening act, performing his first solo album (very far from what he previously did with his friends...), then he joined Dave and his breathtaking band for two songs: "#41 " and "Satellite". No one can say the opposite: he was damn good! And the rest of the three hours concert had been dream-like. I had to look at my beloved to make sure it was real! Either him nor I couldn't believe we were finally seeing and listening to Carter, Doyd, Leroi, Stefan and Dave live. From "Don't drink the water" to "Two Step", going through "Crash into me" and "Crush" (click here for the complete set list), Dave Matthews Band has captivated the although -not -full -but -crazy -Forest-National -audience. If from the 8,000 available seats only 6,500 were taken, those present made as much noise as for 13,000! Size doesn't matter, indeed. We're now impatiently waiting for the next European tour... Life is short but sweet for certain!

The Cell Phone

In less than three hours, I will be at the most important press conference of the year at BOZAR, as the organizer.... which makes it quite stressful I might say. This morning, I dressed up quite quickly (yes, I did!), and I left home in peace, knowing that when I will come back, I will see the same but also each time different, beautiful smile and face. Stepping on the tramway, I figured out I forgot my cell phone, but it was too late to get back. I've arrived at the office at 8:50, and at 9:01, got a call from the reception: "There's a young man here who brought you your cell phone". My heart began to beat like if I were going to meet him for the first time. He was standing in front of the reception desk, with his red shirt and black sweater on. A marvellously good-looking guy with his hair "en bataille"... the "out of bed" hair every Tony & Guy fan would like to have. He handed me my phone, I embraced him and felt like the happiest girl in the world. Not because of the phone, just because of him. Then I stepped back in my office, looking at my colleague and saying "He's the sweetest man on earth, an angel, I love him so much".

Audrey Hepburn VS Truman Capote

I agree, these two are far from being comparable, with only one thing in common, artistically speaking... Breakfast at Tiffany's. Everybody knows the movie, and even if never read, also the book. Well, I happened to experience both within two days. Hepburn is quite stunning indeed, but Capote's story has nothing to do with the movie. Of course, a movie is never like the book it is based on (it's always worse if you ask me). But here, apart from Audrey Hepburn's acting and beautiful black dress, I couldn't see a slight interest in the movie. I'm quite glad I read the book right after, the movie was enjoyable but the book is quite a masterpiece. And since one has nothing to do with the other (except for some character names and dialogues), it was easy to ignore the movie while reading the book. I would therefore easily say Hepburn and Capote are ex-aequo... even if on fairly different levels.

Autopsy on a female soul

It was quite clear from the beginning,
it was just a physical matter.
That's what he said
"It's just sex"
It's not his fault
if you have feelings.
He's not supposed to see what's inside you.
So leave,
run,
go away before you fall.
Go away, run, leave,
or you'll be sorry after.
Don't take any risk and
run before he leaves.
Loneliness is something you know,
don't you?
So leave, go away, run.
Let's run away together love.
Let's leave them.
Let's just go, let us go
life.
It's midnight already.
Cindirella's waiting.
She lost her shoe. No one's getting it. No one will find it anymore.
You'll wait forever Cindirella,
for a shoe that will never come.
It's five past midnight,
Cindirella isn't waiting anymore.

From the Panama Diaries

3.01.2007
Coronado beach, Panama

Deniz kenarinda oturuyorum, günesten gölgeye geçtim. Biliyorsun fazla dayanamiyorum günesin altinda kalmaya...ancak kuruyana kadar. Okyanusa bakiyorum, kulagimda Eykah Badu "He became the sun I became the moon", ve karsimda çok eski bir balikçi teknesi. Hayatimda böylesini görmemistim, sanki eski bir filmden firlamis gibi! Pastan rengi garip bir kahveye dönüsmüs ve kanatlanir gibi demirleri her iki yandan çikarak sularin üzerinden bakiveriyor atlayan baliklara. Kuslar tünemis direklerin her bir yanina. (Bu arada iPod'umu ilk kez shuffle'a aldim ve çok güzel sürprizlerle karsilasiyorum). Kendi dünyama kapaniyorum, etrafimda insanlar konusuyor, oynuyor, bebek fotograflari çekiyor sürekli (tanrim, bundan daha yorucu bir aktivite olabilir mi?). Dalgalar gittikçe daha yakina vuruyor. Balikçi teknesi ise uzaklasiyor, koynunda baliklar, kollarinda kuslarla birlikte.
Uzun zamandir özgür olmak için içime kapanma ihtiyaci duymamistim, susmayi. Sessiz olup kendi kendime olmayi. "Rahat birakin, istemiyorum, evet eglence size göre bu ama benim için yanliz kalmak sikilmak anlamina gelmiyor". Bunu ama anlatamazsin, insanlar bos seylerden hoslaniyor, bizim zevk aldigimiz seyler ise bos geliyor onlara. Anlatmak gereksiz, sende biliyorsun. Balikçi teknesi kayboldu, okyanus ise kumsali iyice islatarak bizide yavasça kovuyor. Sesimi tek duyan oymus demek.

Oh Belgium! ... Lovely Holiday Country!

Sitting on my couch still in my PJ's on a Thursday morning at 11 o'clock, am I ill? Hell no! The whole country (and even Europe I guess) is celebrating Jesus's bodily ascension to Heaven... As a Muslim, I might say I enjoy it pretty much! But what my sweet second (or first? Don't know anymore) country (Belgium, for those of you who will still have some doubts) offers ... is an extra day off on Friday, which makes the weekend not two but four days long. Isn't this brilliant? "Le pont" they call it here (because they put a bridge between the official day off and the weekend). Well now, I'm enjoying it, even if sometimes I do think they are exaggerating, not when my office gets closed, but when supermarkets are for instance, but as we say in French "On ne peut pas avoir le beurre et l'argent du beurre"! So, thank you Jesus for showing us the way to fly away from work!

Mastering the fact of not being a native speaker of whatever language

"We are sorry, but your application cannot be accepted because you are not a native English speaker"... This is the sad answer that a good friend of mine, native from Panama, raised and educated both in Spanish and English, gets to hear from some European Commission employee to her application for an internship... How do they expect to evolve with such a narrow minded view on today's world, especially in a place like Europe where people, cultures and therefore languages are continuously intermingling? Even if not from birth (still, at least two languages are spoken in many families), languages can be learned and mastered through education and practice. I cannot believe that one can only write in one's own native language (I wonder how Nabokov would have answered to such a stupid assessment). I was myself raised in Turkish, educated in French then in English and Spanish, using Dutch in everyday life and at work. I do not master all of these languages in the same way of course, but I couldn't accept anyone limiting my capacities in writing, thinking, understanding or communicating in any way, to my native tongue, which isn't actually one but two. Nothing rare here, nothing impossible and certainly nothing extraordinary. When Elif Shafak, a writer who was born in France, lived in Spain, studied in Turkey and the United States, writes novels in Turkish and in English, I can just applaud her. It is a richness and not a mistake to be able to write in as many languages as one masters. The key word, as you may have understood, is not "being native" but rather "mastering", and the same goes for everything, far beyond languages.

Sahar's journey in Brugge

It isn't because an oriental lute, a piano and an accordion appear to be on the same stage that "fusion" or "encounter" between Oriental and Western cultures are automatically to occur.
Yesterday evening, in the beautiful Stadsschouwburg 's main hall in Brugge, lute player and composer Anouar Brahem together with his fellow musicians, pianist François Couturier and accordionist Jean-Louis Matinier, formed a perfect out-of-borders-trio. There was only one thing to hear... pure music. It feels so reposing not to think of an artists' origin, and regarding his or her art only.
I felt good last night, following Sahar's footsteps, enjoying the journey, just for the music, and nothing more was necessary. It was pure.

A half-empty KVS Bol for a hollow Natacha Atlas

Half full or half empty, call it what you will, but the KVS Bol was neither full of people, nor of good music yesterday evening, that's for sure. We can start by putting the blame on the organizers who should have closed the second and third balconies, inviting the audience to gather in the parterre... but should certainly never have announced that Natacha Atlas was going to perform with an acoustic ensemble. Indeed, in addition to a drum, a darbouka, a bad vocalist and a bassist who barely plays (these can still be called acoustic, I agree) , Ms Atlas was supported by a single electronic keyboard playing all possible instruments of the Arabic repertoire and more (yes yes, they managed to get a guitar sound out of it!). Still, we were ready to forget about it and let us transport by the diva's songs and moves. Unfortunately, her beautiful and mesmerizing voice wasn't enough to let us believe in her music, if there was any (let's be serious, can anyone be moved by a keyboard trying to sound like a kanun or a violin?). The sound spewed from the machine was extremely disturbing and resulted to be boring at many, many points. Even some rare good vocal moments remained hollow, and so we left an empty bol, empty...

Everyday Life

A bare naked guy popping his head out of his basement floor apartment window while you're walking in the street on a Sunday late morning and asking you the time, a woman carrying her dog in a baby carriage, the neighborhood's homeless greeting you every single morning on your way to work... these are just a few examples from everyday life in Saint-Gilles.

Ode to Joy?

Today, Brussels celebrates the 50th anniversary of the signing of the treaty of Rome. Something I wouldn't even think about if it wasn't posted everywhere, reminding me that I live in an excessively institutionalized city. Listening live from my small studio, thanks to Musiq'3, to the concert given at the Centre for Fine Arts this Saturday 24 March 2007, I can only remember why I didn't go to see it there... Yesterday's rehearsal had already given me the clue that it wouldn't be the best interpretation of Beethoven's 9th ever...
Anyway, no matter what I think of the European institutions, I can at least eager you to experience brilliant ideas (even if sometimes quite utopic) at the exhibition A Vision for Brussels. The initiators of this project "Imagining the Capital of Europe" are suggesting their architectural ode(s) to joy, imagining new ways of using the bureaucratic architecture of the European Quarter among many other things. A manifesto about Brussels Towards the Capital of Europe.

Meknes in Saint-Gilles

10pm on a Saturday night in South-West Brussels, a starving young couple is searching for food...

For once, we've decided not to walk up from home to Louise but rather to discover the Parvis de Saint-Gilles, a place we knew but weren't used to go to.
With quite realistic expectations, we thought we would get a still eatable pitta or dürüm in some fast-food restaurant, when we saw an open place called La table de Meknes in the middle of the square. Starving as we were, we haven't hesitated a minute and entered after a quick look at the menu posted at the door.
Spicy merguez and kefta, all served on a richly dressed plate with salad and French fries on the side by the most charming young boy, all topped by an offered fresh mint tea, truly warmed our hearts. We left the place knowing that we would certainly return very soon...
On our way back home, we saw a woman in her pajama's searching for someone in the street. Noticing that we were amused by her outfit, she looked at us smiling. We smiled back and went on our way.
This is the magic of Saint-Gilles, a town in the middle of the city, the sun right next to the moon, the warmth of Meknes in Brussels...

Sweet Handshake Prelude

It is always nice to see the hands of a pianist while playing on the piano. Listening to a piano recital should also include, whenever possible, watching the pianist's hands. Feeling music through these two senses is an enchanting experience.
A third sense is only used by the pianist self through touch. One I've actually experienced as a prelude to Chopin's second concerto for piano on the person of Boris Berezovsky. Amazingly moving pianist I've discovered in a recital at the Royal Conservatory of Brussels more than a year ago. Since that unforgettable concert, I've learned to know more about his repertoire and tried to follow his live performances as much as I could. Until I've experienced the most sweetest feelings of all, finding my hand for a few seconds in this gigantic pianist's hand. This was the softest handshake I've ever felt. A prelude to the rehearsal Mr Berezovsky was going to have with the National Orchestra of Belgium. How could so much strength come out of such sweet and soft hands remains a magical duality. And my whole senses to shake before, during and after the concerto, even in rehearsal, and at his concert on Sunday 18 March at the Centre for Fine Arts in Brussels.

The boy who didn’t like the sun

“I want rain” he said.
“Don’t you like the sun” asked his mother.
“No, I hate the sun, I prefer the rain!”
Every time the sun came up (that was almost everyday), they would argue on that infinite issue. The mother couldn’t help but worry about her son’s behaviour. Then the boy grew up and left the sunny country for the place of interminable rain. The more maturity he was getting, the more he wanted to escape from the yellow rays, mostly by leading a nocturnal life. The moon became his substitute friend in the absence of rain. Lying on his empty bed, he would listen to the rain drops falling on the window of his grey apartment. He loved the serenity in which the sweet water notes brought him.
Serenity was what he was longing for, and he strongly believed he could only achieve it through the rain. He didn’t know he was carrying serenity in himself, although he knew he was named after it. Until the day he met a synonym who taught him to love the sun. They were now ready to experience serenity and passion altogether and forever.

First live encounter with Dave Matthews

Never before had I seen the doors of the Ancienne Belgique so crowded. Maybe it is just because I've always been used to go to gigs there after the doors have been opened.... Anyway, from 5pm, two hours before the official doors opening, the 110 Anspach boulevard was crowded by a bunch of, most of them American, fans. Among the Americans were also some French fans, but also many more (let's hope it for Dave who wants to make "new friends").
There was me for sure, a Brussels girl, and my beloved, with whom I've learned to love Dave Matthews and his band more and more everyday. Oh, and I've almost forgot our friend from Turkey, Burak, who 7 years ago brought a CD of DMB from the US to his friend. Burak was with us that night, at least for two songs!
After 9 years, Dave Matthews was back in Belgium, and for the first time for a "solo" acoustic concert... It has been quite a surprise to see Tim Reynolds enter through the door next to our closed one at 5.30pm. "It's gonna be Dave and Timmmmmm"... enthusiastic, we were indeed.
We entered at 7pm, half an hour after the Warehouse fan members, and still, we were set on the second row! The AB was full in half an hour, and the atmosphere was warm and crazy.
At 8pm, Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds arrived on stage. We were seeing the guy for real, this great musician we were only allowed to watch on DVD... we were going to listen to him for real, now. The adrenaline was getting up... we were already feeling high.
Once again, both Tim and Dave have showed their mastery. Crazy how it felt that night, how they made it all alright, starting with a beautiful Bartender, ending with a dynamic Two Step.
The concert was sweet for certain, Maarten, I agree!
Carter, Doyd, Stefan, LeRoi, we're now waiting for you guys!

Longing for Dave...

6 years for one, 1 year for the other... we are both longing for the same man, or, it would be more appropriate to say, the same music. But do we want to be appropriate here? I guess no, appropriate shouldn't be used next to Dave Matthews! Even if the concert venue has already warned us about the atmosphere: no late arrivals will be allowed... Good for us since we planned to be at the doors before their opening.

No more longing... one night left before we let ourselves get cought into Mr Matthews' words through his strong and penetrating voice. And it won't be a one night stand since our man will be back with his band at Forest National, Brussels, on the 27th of May.
The best is yet to come...