Kooky Band

I was in Antwerp last Saturday, and the weather was fine. Strolling through the Grote Markt, I encountered this cheerful band of folk musicians. I couldn't put my finger on the style of their very catchy music, but if I had to approximate it, I'd say klezmer, I guess. They had a tuba; they had an accordion. They had half the people in the square following them as they wound their way through it and down a side street.

Belgium is one of my favorite countries. I was curious about it long before I ever visited, since my mother had lived there long ago. I've been making pilgrimages to all the cities she lived or travelled to, but Antwerp wasn't one of them. On this trip, however, I decided it was time to get to know Antwerp.

On a flight from Boston or New York to Brussels, half the people on the plane will be Hasidic Jews. Most of them are headed for Antwerp. It's been the international center of the diamond trading industry for centuries, traditionally controlled by Hasidic Jewish families. In the 16th century, Antwerp was the center of the entire international economy. Antwerp has been traditionally tolerant of Jews and everybody else, so there's been a large and affluent Hasidic presence there for five hundred years.

Stepping out of the train station in Antwerp, you see diamond shops lining both sides of the street. Wouldn't it be cool to wear diamond studs purchased right from Antwerp? If I ever get any money ahead, I'm going to seriously consider it.

Civilized Dogs

Here are a couple of civilized Yorkies in an Antwerp square, properly dressed for their outing and sharing a little sunshine and a dessert with their human companions.

Paul's Puppets

I took a picture of these marionettes in the window of an Antwerp toy store with my cousin's main squeeze, Paul Gauthier, in mind. Paul's not only a musician, but a talented artist whose specialty is marionettes. Because of his interest, I've sought out marionettes in my travels for several years now. He's always been fascinated by the photographs and brochures I bring back, which have led to interesting discussions on the regional variations in their design and decoration. Thanks to Paul, I've become sensitive to a whole universe which would have been otherwise overlooked and invisible to me.

So I was shocked and saddened to learn upon my return that Paul had died just a day before I snapped this picture. He had gone fishing in the morning, came home feeling a little unwell, and a few hours later had a massive heart attack, from which he did not recover.

There will be no wake, no funeral. He would have hated that. His body has already been cremated. One day this summer, we'll all go to one of his haunts, probably in Monson, for a little celebration of his life. Scatter his ashes over one of the lakes where he used to fish. Paul was part American Indian, and knew those places as intimately as any of his forebears ever did.

I'll never look at a fish, or a frog, or a salamander, or a piece of quartz or garnet chipped from a local cave without thinking of Paul. Or listen to a bass guitar. Or look at a marionette. Rest in peace, sweet and gentle spirit.

Antwerp Elephant

Here's an elephant I saw recently in front of the Antwerp Zoo. It's one of a small herd in the middle of a square, right across from the indescribably lovely train station. The elephants--which look like they're made of wooden plates, but are actually metal--are set on white play sand, and usually have children playing around and under them.

If you click on the picture, you can see how anatomically detailed this bull elephant is. Hard to imagine in the U.S. of A., but par for the course in sophisticated Belgium, or anywhere else in Europe, for that matter.