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Check out Comic Strip Murals or Graffiti Walls

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Ages ago, in an inspired attempt at self-improvement (and escape from boredom), I signed up for Beginner French language classes at the Alliance Francaise in Philadelphia after spotting their ad (avec la tour Eiffel, bien sûr!) in the free weekly paper. The class met for ten Tuesday nights at a convenient time; moreover, the school's building was a mere seven blocks from my own apartment building. "Parfait!", I exclaimed to myself, "I've always wanted to be a French-speaking snob!".

The day of the first session came. Seven of us sat around waiting for our instructor to arrive. Most had taken French language classes in high school and had promptly forgotten most of it due to either apathy or disuse, in contrast to myself who was starting from a clean slate. A bearded, heavy set man in his early 50s who bore a resemblance to Colonel Sanders sauntered into the room, and proceeded to write these phrases on the blackboard.

Je m'appelle ...
Tu t'appelles ...
Il/Elle s'appelle ...

He turned around to find seven faces staring at him in bewilderment. Pointing his hands towards his chest, he smiled and declared, "Bonsoir...je m'appelle Norman". And then, pointing straight at me, he demanded, "Monsieur, comment vous-appelez vous?".

I sat uncomprehendingly for about ten seconds, unsure how to reply. He sensed my hesitation and repeated his spiel. Sure, I got that his name was Norman, but what to say? Finally, he placed his finger beside the first line written on the board, and prompted me, "Je m'appelle...". Ah! "Je m'appelle Newman", I squeaked, which judging from the beam on his face, was right on the money.

The class continued in this manner. Norman would write stuff on the board, then ask the question while gesturing frantically with his hands to aid our brains in figuring out what information he was looking for. At times when it got too tedious and everyone frustrated, I thought "Well, if only he'd ask in English...". Turns out, I had unwittingly stumbled upon the Alliance Francaise's "immersion-style" methodology of teaching, which explicitly forbids the use of English! Merde!

Eventually we progressed to reading simple dialogues from the textbook. A particularly memorable snippet went as follows (rough English translations mine):

Renaud: Vous aimez la diva? (Do you like the diva? Referring to a opera star, perhaps)
Jean: Oui, j'aime beaucoup la diva (Yes, I'm a big fan).
Renaud: Vous aimez la bande dessinee aussi? (And something-called-the-bande-dessinee also?)

I must've spaced out in class, because I never did find out what "la bande dessinee" was and simply assumed it was some Gallic rock band popular among the youth. I was more intent on surviving the onslaught of new, unfamiliar words and conjugations, while trying to figure out how to drop out of the course with my dignity and French aspirations intact.

Fast forward to a decade later. In the midst of doing research about Brussels attractions, I reconnect with the same phrase and ponder...hmmm...Centre Belge de la Bande Dessinee, the Belgian comics strip center! So THAT's what it was. I had to laugh at myself for my mistaken assumption all these years, at the same time trying to contain my excitement at visiting the museum to view their exhibits of my favorite comics series, the Adventures of Tintin. (Captain Haddock is shown above, surprised at Tintin's unmasking).

Comic strips, also known as the Ninth Art, is part and parcel of Belgian culture. They are quite passionate about them! In addition to the world-famous journalist/boy detective Tintin, you've also probably heard of the Smurfs. These and other local comic strip heroes are immortalized in the various exhibits in this fine museum. You can also spend the better part of an afternoon walking along the comic strip route in Brussels trying to spot as many colorful murals adorning the sides of the buildings, some of which I captured in this slide show. If comics are not your thing, perhaps may I suggest another grittier art form - masterfully painted graffiti walls - but eye catching nonetheless.

P.S. For Tintin-holics, check out this video I recorded of "The Two Faces of Professor Calculus" (Professor Tournesol in French. Tournesol = sunflower. Now that's a head scratcher).