By any other name

In French, it’s called Gand, in English Ghent, and in Dutch, Gent. Either way, it is the third-largest city in Belgium, and capitol of the province of Oost-Vlaanderen. I had a vague memory of the Treaty of Ghent being signed there, which a quick look at the Wikipedia informs me ended the war of 1812. On Saturday morning Travis and I woke up refreshed and ready to go at 1:30AM local time, having not quite adjusted our inner clocks. We watched some local television (You haven’t seen the 1976 classic film adaptation of Stephen King’s novel Carrie until you have seen in dubbed in German) and generally waited around until it was a reasonable hour to travel there.

Most of Travis’ co-workers live in Gent, which is more cosmopolitan that the Kortrijk-Zwevegem area where we are staying right now. When we move into our own place, that is where we will look for an apartment. It’s only about a half-hour drive away, and when we arrived the streets were still empty and damp from the early morning rain. The center of Gent has the most amazing gothic medieval architecture. Think tall, pointed stone arches that draw your eye skyward towards heaven (looming over treacherous cobbled streets that will snag your sexy European boots if you aren’t careful).

We spent hours walking around through tiny, winding streets that lead us past one café, boutique, and chocolatier after another. We stopped in at the local library, lingered near picturesque canals, and visited Saint Bavo Cathedral (aka Sint Baafskathedral in Dutch). Sint Baaf was a Roman Catholic Saint who, as far as I can tell, after a dissolute youth, gave away all of his riches to build an abbey, while he himself lived as a recluse in a hollow tree. In his memory, they built the largest, most elaborate church in town. Now, there are all sorts of old things literally crammed into the church in the alcoves. They have a painting by Peter Paul Rubens, and most famously, the alter triptych by Hubert and Jan Van Eyke, Adoration of the Mystic Lamb.

Possibly the most triumphant moment, though, for Travis and I, was figuring out a work of art of a more humble variety. We were practicing our Dutch by trying to translate the signs we ran across. “Honden in park moeten op een leiband zijn”. Hmmm. “Dogs in park must be on a leash” we hazarded. “Bibliotheek” Aha, the library! There were also a lot of brightly colored signs advertising concerts, raves, and other events for us to practice on. Then we came across a bright yellow and blue sign in a shop window, somewhat similar to the party posters. It had two cartoon characters with their hands in the air and…little dots arcing from their crotch area towards little puddles on the ground. “Wild Plassen, 60€”. Travis and I both stood there in a state of complete mystification.
“Plassen means piss,” Travis remembered.
“Wild pissing!?” I realized. “If you get caught peeing outside, the fee is 60 Euros!?”
In a city where most of the public bathrooms charge .30€, it pays to keep a pocketful of change!