ℹ⃝
Sometimes I wonder if I have one of those information symbols glued to my forehead -- I feel like a walking tourist information booth. While I realise Brussels attracts a large amount of foreigners by its very nature, I do feel like I've become some sort of an tourist information point. This has reached a level now that I can't go to the GB without being asked for directions on the way home.
Oh, it's not bad though. It gives be a chance to practise my bad French (avec sa influence de bruxellois), Flemish and German. More importantly, it gives me the opportunity to make anglophones look like dorks.
Quite often, people that aren't from Continental Europe (particularly British and American tourists) use slow and freakishly loud en-nun-cee-ay-shen while talking to the locals. Walking home with a GB shopping bag makes me one of these so-called locals, so the dialogue usually works out to be something like this:
| Tourist: | Excuse me, HOW.. DO.. WE.. GO.. TO.. THE.. GRAND.. PLAAAYYCE? |
| Me: | Yeah mate, just turn around and go back that way and take that diagonal street there on the right with the police station on it. Just keep going straight and you're there. |
| Tourist: | Oh, umm, I, err, thanks. |
I think I've been asked everything, from Belgians looking for a particular street, or back-packers looking for the Mannequin Pis (or his sister, Jeanneke), all the way up to Japanese business-men wondering where to find what's left of the red-light district (赤線).
Not long after I arrived here in Brussels, I spent a lot of my time looking for a place to live and a job. During this period I learnt a lot about where things are within Brussels. Once I remember a Japanese family asking me how to get to the Grand Place from where I was. I wasn't doing anything special, and I'm bad at explaining complex directions, so I took them there and showed them personally. They ultimately insisted on a group photograph with me before I went on my merry way. I wonder what they did with that photo.
Roughly one year ago, I had an Irish guy with his wife ask me in French how to get somewhere. I couldn't understand a word he was saying, poor bloke. I asked if he spoke English, and I still didn't really understand where he was trying to get to. I hope I gave him the right directions.
More recently, I was stuck at the painful traffic light on the corner of Rue du Lombard and Rue du Midi, and behind me was a bunch of American students complaining about how lost they were. I couldn't help but interject since they were saying they couldn't ask anyone.
I see a lot of British couples over here for the weekend, and overheard many conversations usually following something like this:
| Husband: | No no, this map must be wrong. It's a bad map. Why aren't there any street signs? It must this way. |
| Wife: | Listen, let's just ask someone. We're lost! |
| Husband: | I'm not lost - I know where I'm going. I'm not asking anyone, I have a map. |
| Wife: | Yes we are, someone here will speak Engli-- |
| Husband: | I'm not lost, and we're not asking someone! We're going this way! |
My advice to new travellers is that you'd be surprised how you can communicate without language, so long as you're determined, clear and concise. Don't be afraid to approach people on the street for help, after all us humans are all mostly harmless.
Either that, or look around for the guy with a ℹ⃝ stamped on his forehead.
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