European Roma Woman

Video: I'm a European Roma Woman

One of my current job's tasks is to monitor European Parliament's debates in those areas of interest to the organization I work for. I am sent off to the Parliament for work purposes, but I have to confess this duty amuses me quite a lot...many languages in my headphone, meeting new people, socio-political VIP's, cool building, unexpected fun at the meetings, a walk through Leopold Park...I like going there.

Often, participation to the meetings turns into an occasion for actual learning and reflection. So it was yesterday. I discovered that Hungary is the only EU member state who has brought a Roma to the European Parliament. Lívia Járóka is one of the new generation of leaders. At EU level, she is on a mission so that Roma can get their voice heard. What strucks me is that in this person, there are all necessary ingredients to bake a quite exotic and unpropable cake: being a woman, being young, Eastern European and from a minority group, certainly not a privileged one. And yet, she made it to the EP. Quite noteworthy!

Stories of Roma, Gypsyes and Sinti have always attracted me and I await the day that the nobel peace prize will be given to the Roma people for moving around pacifically since ages, without harming a soul, without weapons and without starting wars against other nations. Instead, we only know stories of criminality and failed integration, which surely are the only kind of story the newspapers catch and like.  I bet the older collegues of Járóka in the EP make it a challange for her to be actually heard and taken seriously. I like this woman. Let's see if we manage to come face to face next time.

Flagia, the art of frying

I fear I have just discovered the BEST friterie in Brussels. It was Friday, and I profited of my lunchbreak to get both food and some fresh air out of the office. There was this kiosk there on the square, which seemed to attract quite a lot of people. The queue was disarming, but I took it as a testimony of the quality of the food and I put myself in line. Inside the kiosk, a man, no, THE man. 

At Friterie Flagey, right on Place Flagey, the man isn't just frying, splashing frozen food in hot oil. He is, I dare to say, rather cooking! He literally takes care of every request, of every potato and of every little frie. His moves are almost those of a pizzaiolo, moving gently and deflty, almost hinting at some dance move. You've got to see him. And then, when your typical Belgian cornet of fries is ready, you do realize why this frietkot is an institution of the Brussels' heritage. Gold, crunchy and selected. Yes, because THE man has also cleverly selected the best fries for you, removing black spots or overfried stuff. Someone would like some more salt, whereas I only wish it weren't so cold. It looks in fact that 3° are enough to turn mayonnaise and other sauces into a hard sticky thing.

It seems also that this kiosk in Flagey has so far survived a process of removal by la commune d'Ixelles, in the interest of some works on the square. On internet you also find petitions to sign to keep the Friterie Flagey on its spot. Selfishly said, I hope the friterie will stay in Flagey at least as long as I will, but it would definitely be a loss of revenue and image for the square if THE man will be moved away. And while the bourgmestre clears his mind, I'll keep enjoying this frying flagey magia, let me call it Flagia!

Check Stop Schuman

I get to the bus stop at Schuman, excusez-moi, c’est déjà passé le 60?, she doesn’t know, she’s American, but of course the bus is late as usual. Me and five more people are standing and waiting for the same bus. Two Southamerican women keep checking the time, calculating how many minutes they are taking away from the babies they are going to baby-sit. Bus 12 and 22 arrive, people get off and on. The newcomers to Brussels get off and wonder where to go: to the left or to the right, to the left on the sidewalk or to the left through the square? The works and the noise in the area make all look chaotic while is not. The girl, clearly lost: excusez-moi, où se trouve le metro? Two Norwegians walk together to the Norway House right in front of the Commission and of the bus stop. They are dressed light. They must be among the happiest here in Brussels, considering that in this period of the year the sun doesn't rise before 11 o’clock in the south of Norway…and never rises in the north (!). A couple comes, hand in hand, they kiss good-bye and the guy leaves. The girl is Italian. Of course. It’s like “Nespresso. What else?” (Hi George!). That tall guy in his suit runs to work, with his badge jumping up and down. Bus 12 and 22 come again and I am still waiting. The people who get off represent a good half of the world. I have troubles distinguishing among Scandinavians and Asians, and I assume not all Africans come from Congo or Morocco. ...Bus 60 finally arrives! See you tomorrow Schuman.

Flying Ryan

Over the Alps

They say that soon or later Ryanair will make passengers pay 1euro for using the toilet on board. Everyone already knows that the company offers no service whatsoever and the reason why people like it is for its cheapness. I can’t complain at all. My first Ryanair flight was in 2006 from Milano to Oslo in occasion of my Erasmus exchange in Norway, and Ryanair was just inaugurating that new route...from cold to frozen! Back then flying with Ryanair was the only affordable option to get so up north. For uncountable times I’ve been flying to The Netherlands and back, then to Spain, to London, to Paris, to Latvia...and now to Belgium. The cheapest ticket I’ve ever bought was only 5 euro to Berlin. But of all trips and destinations, my favourite is always when I’m flying back home deep south.

I must say that flying over Italy is amazing and whenever I’m directed to Trapani or Palermo, Ryan feels to me like a high school friend taking me home while telling stories...from the Alps downwards is all a changing landscape of harbours and beaches, mountains and islands, sea everywhere, and the country’s unique shape to suggest what is what. Perhaps, it's that Italy everyone falls in love with.