Human flies or fearless acrobats?

Last week I was washing some glasses in the kitchen sink, when I noticed something moving outside my kitchen window. As I live on the first floor, I thought it was a small bird or a large insect that had caught my attention. When I looked outside however, there was nothing unusual to be seen. I was about to return to my chore, when I realized that the ‘action’ I had seen, was actually taking place in the distance.

At a distance of about 500 metres as the crow flies, I saw what looked like a five-story high ladder, sticking completely vertically into the sky, without any apparent support. Two small black dots were slowly making their way up to the top, which reached as high as the apartment building in which I used to live from 1980 till 2001. Two years ago the tenants of the building had been evacuated to other locations as the whole construction was about to undergo a complete make-over. The social housing company which owns the building ran out of funds though, and the place was boarded up and abandoned.

Over the years, the general look of the building gradually deteriorated, and on windy and rainy autumn and winter evenings the huge square-like structure looked like something that had survived a nuclear war. Surprisingly enough, it never attracted any squatters and even the graffiti painters showed no interest. There were no broken windows and the lawns and bushes around the building were regularly mowed and clipped. I suppose it was done in an attempt not to upset or offend the neighbours who are tenants of the same housing company.

But back to my two human flies – the two black dots – that were climbing up what turned out to be the lower section of a huge building crane. As soon as they had reached the top, I saw the arm of another crane appear from behind the trees. From it dangled the top part of the building crane. The crane driver, who I couldn’t see from where I was standing, manoeuvred the long piece of equipment towards the part on which the two men were waiting. It all happened ever so slowly.

Two fearless 'human flies'.

In the right lower corner,
the top of the apartment building which is about to be dismantled.

When the top part touched the bottom part, the two men started fiddling with – I assume – the bolts that were to hold the two pieces together. It soon turned out that things weren’t going as planned. After about ten minutes they gave up, and the arm of the crane with the top part still hanging from it, slowly moved away. I watched it until it disappeared behind the row of trees again.

I expected the men to start climbing down, but instead they gently moved towards the very top of the ‘ladder’ and squatted down on the top bar, with their feet dangling over the side. As far as I could see, they weren’t wearing any safety harnesses. And yet, their precarious position didn’t seem to bother them. I took out my camera and zoomed in on them: they were happily chatting away, completely oblivious of danger.

I waited a little longer, expecting to see the arm reappear from behind the trees. When it didn’t, I returned to my washing up and forgot about the whole matter.

Later that afternoon, when I glanced out of the window again, I saw that the crane was up and operational. The next day the actual dismantling of the building began. Today all the windows have been removed … and the five-story high building is staring with empty eyes over the neighbourhood. I wonder how long the dismantling and renovation work will take and when new tenants can move into the upgraded apartments.

The building crane in its full glory.

Tell me, would you climb up that structure for ... let’s say 1 million Euros? I wouldn’t ... not for all the money in the world!

Epautre vs. Apôtre

My mother’s mobility still being a bit dodgy, I continue supplying my weekly catering services on Sunday. In fact, I also prepared and had Saturday lunch at her home, three doors down the road. It consisted of a ‘tomate crevettes’ (fresh tomatoes stuffed with grey North Seas shrimps, crushed hard-boiled eggs and mayonnaise), a mixed salad and pan-fried new potatoes. My mother had pre-boiled and peeled the potatoes. I put the rest of the dish together, presenting the tomatoes on a bed of green salad on a oblong stainless steel platter that fit perfectly in one the large shopping bags supplied by our local supermarket.

Today I’m trying my hand at something warm. Yesterday I boiled and shredded a chicken, made some tiny yet tasty meatballs using half-and-half pork and veal mince, an egg, bread crumbs and a generous dash of grated nutmeg. I also sliced up and sautéed 200 grams of mushrooms. This morning I made a white ‘roux’, using Irish (Kerrygold) butter, the chicken stock and the juice of half a lemon.

Another indispensable ingredient of ‘Vol au vent’ is the roux and a roux requires flour. As young housewife (back in the eighties) I would have used plain white flour. However, ever since I’ve discovered ‘farine d’épautre comple't in the nineties, I prefer using what is considered as the authentic cereal. I like it for its authenticity but also for the funny story that is attached to me discovering ‘épautre’, or spelt as it is called in English.

As I said, it was some time in the nineties. My friend and I were staying at our favourite hotel/restaurant in Habay-la-Neuve in the Belgian Gaume. Truffles were in season and I decided I’d treat myself to one of the starters containing the ‘black gold’. On the menu card it read: ‘Tranches de truffles à l’huile d’olive et au gros sel, présentées sur une tartine de pain d’épautre grillée.

Reading this put a grin on my face. My friend who noticed this asked me what was wrong. All proud and self-assured my said “There’s a spelling error on the menu.” He looked and looked again. “I don’t see it.” He finally replied. “Of course, look they wrote ‘épautre au lieu d’apôtre!!” I laughed. Little did I know then that ‘spelt’ had nothing to do with an ‘apostle’, although some of the original apostles, some of who were farmers, may have grown it! Okay, go ahead and make fun of me … I deserve it!

In my defence, however, I would like to point out that we do have ‘Trappist' and ‘Monk’ bread in Belgium … so the connection with the ‘apostle’ seemed like a logical one, doesn’t it?

The first and only time I saw spelt in its‘natural’ form, was in the medieval garden of the Donjon of Loches. Nowadays I buy the Michel Montignac brand … not that it did him any good, because despite his so-called healthy diet, he didn’t live a long life. 

Den or sty?

The other day when visiting Leuven with my friends Beatrice and Jean-Luc, one of the things we did was take a tour of the ‘Oude Markt’, the Old Market square. In the late sixties and early seventies, when I was attending secondary school in Leuven, you could drive your car and park it in the square. In the nineties all traffic, except bikes, was banned from it and the sidewalk terraces of the many pubs and bars took over. After all, Leuven is a university town AND the home town of the Stella Artois brewery. Over the last decades this local brewery has become one of largest, if not THE largest beer concern in the world. Today it is called Anheuse-Busch InBev and has breweries all over the world. One the company’s latest acquisition is the Mexican Corona brand.

The 'Oude Markt' in Leuven:
the longest open-air drinks (beer?) counter in the world.

Now what do go obtain when you put university students and beer together? That’s right: the longest open-air beer counter in the world! And that’s what the ‘Oude Markt’ is known as. On the day of our visit, the weather was nice and sunny and the students were really making the most of it. About one third of the numerous seats were taken … which proofs that there were still some students who were actually attending classes or studying in their ‘kot’. A ‘kot’ is the student’s slang word for their lodgings. The English translation can be either ‘den’ or ‘sty’. But I guess that one can safely assume that some of these ‘dens’ probably look like ‘sties’.

About half of these lodgings are let by the university. The other half belongs to private people, who have turned their house into some kind of a hostel, where several students live together. They each have their own room but have to share the bathroom, the kitchen and the sitting room. Often the house is run by a woman or a couple who are known as the ‘kotmadam’ or the ‘kotbaas’ (student slang for landlady and landlord). The real ‘kotmadam’, who considers her lodgers almost as her own children, provides breakfast and often also dinner, comfort and a shoulder to cry on in stress situations, caused by exams or a broken heart. The ‘kotmadam’ is a dying breed though and more and more students rent a house together, running it in group and sharing the costs.

The bronze statue of the 'kotmadam', holding her coffee pot 

and relaxing after a long day of looking after her students.

To honour the legendary ‘kotmadam’, a bronze statue has been erected on the ‘Oude Markt’. It’s a life-size woman, sitting on a bench, holding a large coffee pot in one hand (the students preferred beverage when they need to stay awake to study for their exams or after they have had too much beer the night before). The bronze woman is leaning back on the bench, as if exhausted and grateful for a moment of rest after looking after her ‘children’.

The statue sits in a very strategic place, overlooking the square and amongst the many hundreds of students who sit on the sidewalk terraces, drinking, laughing and enjoying life. A fitting tribute to a legendary breed of women! And although it has been there for several decades, the statue has never been vandalized. Irrefutable proof of the respect the students show towards their ‘kotmadam’.

Welcome in the digital world

This weekend the BIG MOVE at the office took place. The second in less than six months! After the first one in November 2012, I ended up with three other 50+ colleagues and three graphic designers at a series of desks located near a passage way, without any daylight and surrounded by 1.50 metre high steel cabinets. The passage-way led towards the exit, the toilettes and the coffee corner, which resulted in some quite heavy ‘traffic’ at all hours of the day. Moreover, the graphic designers often had ‘clients’ stopping by, discussing in not so subdued tones the changes that needed to be integrated in the texts or the lay-out of the documents we, as a marketing department, produce. Often it was impossible to concentrate in such a working environment.

Since this morning however, I have ‘moved up in the world’. Two or three months ago, our CEO decided to come and live with us on the first floor. At the same time, he wanted to turn our work space into ‘the office of the future’, featuring the latest digital technologies.

My new toy, completely in line with my new professional environment.
What happened to the woman who only recently said:
"A Smartphone? Moi? No way!" ?

Since the beginning of May we have been witnessing the remodelling work in progress. There has been a lot of hammering, sawing, drilling, people opening up ceilings and working over our heads, … without any visible changes. Last week on Monday, only a week before the announced moving date, the real work started. We were asked to empty our drawers, pack and label our moving boxes, telephone, monitor, keyboard, paper bin, footrest, etc. On Wednesday, on the eve on Ascension Day (which is a holiday) and the extra-long 4-day weekend, our floor was invaded by a large number of bulky Polish speaking movers, who started shifting file cabinets around, removing the old furniture, etc. We hung on for dear life to our chairs and desks, hardly leaving our work post, in fear of finding it gone after a short visit to the rest room.

In several spots new strips of colourful carpet were laid: vivid green, flashy orange, warm burgundy and classy beige. Huge flat television screens were hauled in and designer armchairs were being unpacked. It all screamed: ‘Welcome to the future and the digital world.’ When I left on Wednesday afternoon, our first floor was one big building site, with electric wires hanging from holes in the ceiling, moving cases scattered all over the place, new desks stacked in one corner, … It had been an hectic and nerve wrecking day for me and my colleagues and we were all very happy and relieved when 4 p.m. came and we could finally go home. Happy, but also worried and doubtful about the outcome! In what condition would we find our work floor on Monday? Because a small miracle would be required to transform the formidable chaos into the office of the future in only 4 days time …

And behold ... The result is astonishing and breathtaking! Our work space seems to have doubled in size, the new furniture being more compact and practical. There are at least 4 metres between the back of my chair and the one of the woman sitting behind me. And best of all … I’ve earned a nice and bright spot near the window, overlooking the artificial pond, park and large boulevard with his now green majestic trees. And the best part is that we are all sharing the same space now. No more steel file cabinets blocking the view, no more cramped spaces making people miserable, no more noisy colleagues breathing down your neck. And a large glass office in which our CEO will take up residence as from next Thursday.

I took some photos with my brand-new Smartphone which I bought ten days ago … simply to stay in line with progress. However, I won’t post them on the blog, as social media are not the best place to post photos related to your professional life! Instead I’m giving you a photo of my new toy!