Our planned trip to Brussels

There were bombings in Brussels two days ago, at the Airport and a Metro Station, by a group calling itself Islamic State.

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The last time I went there was in 1958, along with three friends my age, to see the Brussels World Fair,
the first of its kind after World War II. Countries built their own pavilions, some memorable for their architecture.
Today, only the Atomium still stands.

I phoned the travel agent about the holiday we’ve booked next month in Brussels. I said it didn’t feel like fun any more, could we cancel? Certainly, she said, but we can’t give you any refund, as it’s less than three weeks away. So I said there’s no point in cancelling, we’ll just leave it open. We’ll see how we feel the day before, and either get on that Eurostar train from London, through the Channel Tunnel, all the way to the Belgian capital—or not. Whatever we do, the money is already spent. We can enjoy those four days, wherever we happen to be. The contemplation of this gives an unexpected sense of lightness and freedom.

At the moment home seems the pleasanter option, especially after this morning, when a plumber came to install a new kitchen tap, one that doesn’t squirt water upwards like a fountain, though we’ve only had it a few months, and it was guaranteed for fifteen years. While waiting weeks for its replacement, we’ve used bucketfuls of hot or cold from the bathroom. Up to then we always took water for granted, that it’s brought to you, you don’t have to go and fetch it. Now we give thanks for it all the time, and for never having had to go a mile or so to the nearest well, returning with full buckets balanced on our heads.

And when I saw videos of Brussels commuters the day after the bombs, with tales of how they managed to get to work despite the disruptions, and saw a kind of glow in their faces, the renewed sense of community, their own gratitude for being able to carry on, to still be able to get from A to B somehow, I wavered. These people, like us, will have learned a little of how to give thanks for the simplest things. Then I thought it might be a good thing to use our reservations after all and join the survivors in this new spirit of togetherness, thankfulness & touching of hearts. And yet we’re not thinking about it now—“shall we, shan’t we go?” When the time comes, we’ll simply follow the feeling. Who knows how the world will look on 8th April?

I feel a close kinship with Etty Hillesum, whose soul shines so brightly through her diary and letters written in Amsterdam in World War II. She and fellow-Jews were progressively deprived of privileges, then sent to Westerbork, a transit camp near the German border, waiting for the trains of cattle-trucks which took them on a one-way trip to Auschwitz. Is this old history now? No, we are reminded today by the sentencing of Radovan Karadzic for his part in the Bosnian genocide.

How was Etty able to stay above the hate, and help lift up others to the place where she was? Here’s an extract from a postcard she threw out of the train to Auschwitz, which was picked up later by a farmer and posted:

In the end, the departure came without warning—on sudden special orders from The Hague. We left the camp singing, Father and Mother firmly and calmly, Mischa [Etty’s brother] too. We shall be travelling for three days. Thank you for all your kindness and care. . . . Goodbye for now from the four of us.—Etty

How did she stay above it to this extent? Here’s something from her diary, a year before, which may provide a clue:

Yes, we carry everything within us, God and Heaven and Hell and Earth and Life and Death and all of history. The externals are simply so many props; everything we need is within us. And we have to take everything that comes: the bad with the good which does not mean we cannot devote our life to curing the bad.

She had learned to be always able to find some good, and focus on that. For everything we need is within us.

12 thoughts on “Our planned trip to Brussels”

  1. “Certainly, she said, but we can’t give you any refund, as it’s less than three weeks away.”

    I would think to most people (outside of a customer service environment) would understand that a desire to cancel implied a desire for a refund. Telling someone that they're allowed to cancel but they can't get a refund, is kind kind of like telling someone when they ask if it's okay to eat something, “Sure you can eat it, but it'll poison and kill you within seconds.”

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  2. Exactly the same thing B.W. says ocurred to me too! Anyway, as you're philosophical about being refund-less, and also playing it by ear as to whether you'll go on the Brussels holiday or not, this issue seems resolved in the best possible way.

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  3. Exactly the same thing B.W. says ocurred to me too! Anyway, as you're philosophical about being refund-less, and also playing it by ear as to whether you'll go on the Brussels holiday or not, this issue seems resolved in the best possible way.

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  4. My first comment was gobbled up when I tried to preview it. So I'll try again.

    Perhaps you are chosen to act as a witness to conditions in Brussels in contrast to what you experience at home. All over the world we need to be learning from one another how to overcome the preconceived distortions which lead us to hate and fear one another. I am appalled at the expressions of hostility which are coming to the surface in the political campaign here in the US.

    Your insights are a breath of fresh air which may help to cleanse the polluted air we are breathing.

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  5. Did you 'take chance by the ear' – and go to Brussels?
    Seriously Vincent – the odds of becoming dead by stepping out of the front door of one's own residence are far greater than any “terrorist attack”. Mugged by a local? Drunken driver? Odd coincidences – as in Australia, three people were walking along a pavement when -at that point of coincidence – a wall collapsed [no 'terrorists' involved]. Three dead.

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  6. Oh good, so relieved you are going to be out of town during the EDL demonstration! I read somewhere that over a 1,000 Anti EDL protestors are coming and there's a possibility the whole thing will turn into a full scale riot & battleground!
    I just absolutely hate the thought of you guys going to Brussels, but I trust your judgement. If I could choose for you, I would choose somewhere remote and quiet away from all the in your face noise. Perhaps the countryside or maybe you guys could pitch a tent on a cliff-top bed of soft moss or something?
    I agree that harm could befall a person anywhere. I admire and respect the philosophy you live by! Have fun, but please be safe!
    While searching for video examples of EDL protests, similar to the one you shared here several posts back, I came across this really funny and awesome one that I wondered if had ever watched. I'll just let the video speak for itself:
    “Don't Panic – Everything Is OK”
    https://youtu.be/a2dftkCX4NY

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  7. Yes, it’s a tribal confrontation and the police will be there to ensure it remains a stand-off and merely a symbolic battle. The market square lends itself to such things. The police are prepared. Everyone is so careful most of the time to avoid offence that it leaves little space for pride in cultural identity. These demos can be a lightning conductor, allowing straightforward expression & youthful exuberance without things turning ugly.

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  8. Nor had I, till I found in Oxfam The Assassin’s Cloak: an anthology of the world’s greatest diaries. Hers was the only diary I found in it of interest, to the extent that I’ve invested in her complete works—two volumes, bilingual & unabridged.

    On further investigation I discover William Soutar the Scots poet, who supplied the anthology’s title with this: “A diary is an assassin’s cloak which we wear when we stab a comrade in the back with a pen.” Now I have his Diaries of a Dying Man, & discover a writer who has something in common with Etty Hillesum. He was bedridden for his last fourteen years but remained upbeat and lively to the end.

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