16 there to here

THE BULLETIN July / August 2010

Nasreddin on the terrace of the Halles Saint-Géry, a 10-minute walk from his house in Anderlecht. “I love to come and have a drink here. It’s a lively place where you see all kinds of people of all ages and cultures.”

MoroccanBrussels identities from A to Z

Nasreddin Boulahya, 22, is studying economics at Brussels Free University (ULB). He lives in

Anderlecht, a commune enlivened, he says, by the occasional riot or police roundup, but nothing too

serious. “People sometimes ask me: aren’t you afraid living there? Which always makes me laugh; it’s

very quiet and peaceful here. Of course, every time something does happen, the media are all over it,

but you shouldn’t believe everything you see on TV. Anderlecht is hardly a war zone, you know.”

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“When I was in my first year at ULB, I drove by a football riot in Brussels

in a car with some others. We suddenly found ourselves right in the middle of it. The hooligans roughed us up pretty badly. They completely destroyed our car and I could have easily died. The event was trau-matic, as well as a financial blow and a hard confrontation with pure racism. I could have easily withdrawn into myself, given in to hate and taken revenge, as friends at the time in fact suggested. But thankfully I decided to do the opposite: from then on, I decided to try to set a good example and to change as much as I could the negative image Moroccans have. All of this was three years ago now. Today, I try to raise awareness among the young, for instance, through the Ligue Islamique, but also through my work as an electoral candi-date for the Partij van de Arbeid [Workers Party of Belgium].

I came to Belgium when I was ten years old. I spoke only Arabic and didn’t know the codes of behaviour in Brussels society. I can’t say I got a warm welcome from Belgian Moroccans: they let me feel they thought they were better than new migrants from Morocco, and saw me as easy prey for all kinds of bullying. The way I saw it, Belgian Moroccans were ill-man-nered and I still have the feeling that those who were born in this country are out of sorts here. Perhaps that’s because this city lacks a constructive societal model where newcomers are made to feel welcome and safe. In any case, I feel that good citizen-ship isn’t valued much here; in contrast to the situation in Genk, where some mem-bers of my family live, and where a person only has to drop a piece of paper on the street and they are reprimanded by other citizens.

My adolescence among Belgian-Moroccan peers was generally less than pleasant but, fortunately, I had a couple of fantastic teachers. I found it hard to master the French language and as a result suffered from learning difficulties, but this did not prevent my maths teacher from appreciating my gift for mathemathics. Or my Greek teacher, who awoke my interest in ancient Greek culture and who took his

class on field trips to Brussels’ museums – really magnificent. In this way, my curios-ity was aroused.

It was my father who, though he worked in the Netherlands, chose to settle with his family in Brussels, because he thought that here his children would have a better future. In Brussels, after all, several lan-guages are spoken and it’s the capital of Europe. I think he was right. But when I first arrived as a child in Zaventem, I was of another opinion: for instance, I thought it was bizarre that all houses and streets looked alike, and I was so worried that for the first few weeks I didn’t dare to go out-side, out of fear that I would not be able to find my way home. That said, on my first evening out, I ate fries with mayonnaise and they tasted great!

Although Belgium is a land of possi-bilities, I notice a trend among Belgian Moroccans to leave the country. Those who study, have degrees and foster ambi-tions, move to Morocco or other Arab countries, because they feel that these

places offer them more opportunities than here. Don’t forget that Belgian society is very racist, and that as a young, promising person with Moroccan roots you are dis-advantaged in everything you do, because you’re not ‘really Belgian’. It would also be a lot easier for me to start a new life in Morocco, but for now I am happy to remain in Brussels: I want to be active here. But if Belgium doesn’t become more inclu-sive soon, it may well loose many schooled migrants. This could have financial reper-cussions, as Islamic business will pull out of the country as well, because Muslims are not allowed to put money in ‘bad’ invest-ments. I know that preparations have been made in the Belgian Parliament to make an Islamic bank on Belgian territory pos-sible – which is already the case in France, Germany and the UK. An Islamic bank is essential if the country wants to attract money from the Gulf states: they refuse to work with any other.

I love Brussels a lot, with its many differ-ent peoples and cultures. I couldn’t ever live in a village anymore, such as the one I came from in northern Morocco. Morocco has only one cultural identity, at least most of the time. In the summer months, when migrants return to their villages and cities, the country briefly becomes a very inter-national land. As a child in Morocco, I used to love those two international, mul-ticultural holiday months. So that, here in Brussels, I’m in a perpetual holiday mood: I’m constantly meeting people from other cultures, speaking different languages, dis-covering new things – which is just great. I have friends from everywhere: Belgians, of course, but also Congolese, Japanese, French, an Israeli, Italians, Portuguese, South Americans, Palestinians, Turks. What I would love to help realise is a real multicultural centre where all the commu-nities of Brussels have their place. Brussels is the only city in Europe where so much cultural diversity is coming together. I dream of a meeting place, where there is room for exchange in the form of exhibi-tions, gatherings and concerts.

Interview by Veerle Devos & Kristof Dams

Image by Veerle Devos

In praise of: All those Southern-style restaurants and coffee

bars on Avenue Stalingrad: they take me back to the Morocco of my childhood; the warm atmosphere until late in the evening, people coming together to eat, the smells. This is the atmosphere I would like to see more

of in Brussels, as opposed to the frost, the distrust, the indifference. Lots of people think this street is one

hundred percent Moroccan, but that’s not correct: there are a lot of Chinese and Thai places too.

The Japanese Tower, a curious building that Leopold II had constructed in Laken after having seen

something like it at the 1900 Paris World’s Fair. Not only is the tower gorgeous, the park around it is very

beautiful too. Brussels has a couple of other beautiful parks, like the one around the Africa Museum in

Tervuren. I remember very well how enchanted I was when I first went there, at dusk.

Brussels tour. When I have foreign friends visiting me, I always take them on the same tour: from Avenue

Louise to the Sablon, then on to Central Station and the Grand’Place. This is a wonderful tour that gives you a sense of the grandeur of Brussels. Many of my friends

have a negative impression of Brussels when they arrive, mainly because of the media coverage of the city: reports

about criminality, strikes that seem to paralyse the entire city. Or, on the other hand, Brussels as the boring administrative capital of Europe. But in reality Brussels

is beautiful and full of life!

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