Chin Up (Part 1)

It’s been a February of extremes. Snow and sub-zero temperatures one moment, balmy late spring weather the next. Unnervingly splendid for this time of year. Shocking that some would still deny the threat of Climate Change.

Meanwhile, the Belgian authorities are rolling back some lockdown restrictions but at glacial speed. Hair and beauty salons are once again operational but with strict guidelines. Making an appointment even a week ahead is a mission. I’m so distracted by my failed attempts to squeeze one in on a forthcoming afternoon's leave, I am not concentrating when I use an ATM at my bank in Porte de Namur. I just about remember to withdraw my money but forget my card. A sketchy fellow hanging around smoking, grabs it just as I realise my error. He becomes overly defensive, swearing he only took what belonged to him. I’m so distressed, my French falters. 

I insist on searching his bag. Of course, he’s hid it elsewhere. He and his friend are off like a shot. Fortunately for me, I spread my money across accounts for budgeting purposes. After making my withdrawal, there wouldn’t be much left in my current account to steal (which my bank confirms later). Thanks to a kindly stranger who passes on the bank’s contact details ASAP, I am able to block the card fairly promptly. It precedes a frustrating few days of not being able to access any cash but it could have been worse. I am annoyed at my own absent-mindedness. I am angry at the offender's flagrant dishonesty but not livid. I don't bother filing a police report. If this fellow spends his time sleeping rough and skulking around banks hoping customers will forget their card, his life is already difficult enough. In the unlikely case that he's caught, a stint in prison won't improve his lot.

As far as the rest goes, I’m still taking a day at a time. My manager, Ama lets slip that the TTUO teleworking policy will remain in place for several months. It’s later confirmed by regional news sites that WFH will remain the new normal for a while to come. 

 The easing of some restrictions has nevertheless allowed me to add a few more activities to my calendar; albeit physically-distanced. 

This quarter I’ve signed up for a number of events organised by my church, Fresh Wine Ministries (FWM).

Louisiana-native and Art-Deco enthusiast Doug, moved to Belgium with his family just before the pandemic hit. Not having had long enough to make deeper connections, he has started a church walking group. He plans intricate scavenger hunts, as a means of meeting new people as well as becoming more familiar with the city. The group walks in all kinds of weather. For the first hunt, I arrive too late to catch the main party. Doug, his 9-year old daughter and I gamely work through the clues (he created) in the pouring rain. The following session I attend falls on a cold and foggy Saturday morning, after a week of glorious weather. Nevertheless, the twin aims of socialising and discovery are readily attained.

In addition to these historically-themed rambles, I enrol on Monday evening piano lessons at the church site. The classes are led mainly by chalk and cheese brothers; Lionel (short, muscular-lean 'alpha male') and Lucien (tall, skinny and elaborately camp). I instantly develop a soft spot for Lucien. For the first lesson, we barely have enough time to go through our knowledge of music theory before we’re joined by the singing students. We spend the rest of the evening discussing one of my favourite things in life; harmonisation. It’s home time before we piano students even have a chance to play. I’m pretty zen about it all. I like the company. Plus, we do some impromptu harmonising before home time.

FWM have also set up voluntary sessions with the Red Cross at Molenbeek. COVID-restrictions dictate that our 15-strong volunteers have to break up into three groups of five and rotate our visits. 

 Not having a smartphone makes registering my interest a nightmare. It's only available through a special app. I speak to one of the team leaders at the Red Cross Centre, after she ignores my emails and texts. She denies any knowledge of my church’s involvement and becomes agitated at the (unsubstantiated) idea of us ‘proselytising’. Finally, I decide to chance it on the designated day. I communicate my intentions to our sympathetic group leader, Kwena (Belgian nationality, missionary parents, Ugandan name). Someone could always drop out at the last minute. Kwena agrees, encouraging me to come.

My gamble pays off. Our group of four is well-within the COVID limit.

The line of visitors snakes around the Red Cross building. We’re shown around the centre by handsome Syrian volunteers’ supervisor, Hamad. The mostly male beneficiaries eye up our all-female group with keen interest.

The centre is a sprawling complex. I am amazed to be in a building of that size with so many people, COVID-restrictions notwithstanding.

Red Cross, Brussels

Our group splits up according to tasks, to be reunited at the end of the afternoon. I elect to assist with shower duties; a complicated operation of swapping clothes for toiletries, bath slippers and the occasional sartorial donation. The men are very particular about what kind of underwear they’ll receive. Briefs are chucked back in favour of boxers. 

On a more serious note, the demographic of the visitors is a stark reminder of the issues around migration policy I address in my day job. The vast majority of the beneficiaries are brown and hail from the global South. The few Europeans at the centre are more often than not volunteers.

The shower team is supervised by laidback, charismatic music loving Eritrean, Micah. He brags, only half-joking, about being surrounded by a mostly female team. His eclectic taste in music encompasses Rod Stewart, 90s Hip-Hop, Blues Rock, Billy Ocean and Bobby Womack. The four-hour shift goes relatively quickly; all the more so considering I haven’t eaten lunch. It’s a thoroughly life-affirming experience. Simply being in a room full of people and activity is enough to boost my morale beyond measure.  I’ve missed this so much...