It was September 1989 and it was raining. I saw the dirt on the streets, the dog turds, the poverty. Quite a shock... And that was only the beginning. Soon I found out how cold, distant and insular people can be here. Even my neighbours did not

return my greetings, and many were openly distrustful of black people. Finding a job proved impossible. I tried everything, but every time the vacancy happened to be ‘just !lled’, even for humble jobs in hotels or in cleaning. And the idea of !nding a job in my own sector – banking – was a complete illusion.

I was not prepared for the solitude, so typical of Western culture. In Congo, when you live alone, not an hour passes without someone knocking on your door, even in the countryside. Here, you can read in the paper about elderly people lying dead in their beds for years before their body is found. In Africa, on the bus, when a stranger is reading his paper, you can just read along with him; he won’t even take offence when you turn the page or comment on an article. Try doing that here... I cannot understand this way of life, and I’m not alone in this. Africans in Brussels often talk about it.

My !rst acquaintance with Belgium was certainly a shock, but it did not change my own mindset. I decided to not let it all get under my skin. A great help was !nding out about Het Anker, a service centre for the Sainte-Catherine neighbourhood, fre-quented mostly by single people and the elderly. Finally, I found a place where people who cared gathered, people who appreciated companionship. Here, I got the trust, the a"ection and solidarity that I knew from Africa. Het Anker became my second home. I soon felt the urge to do something useful. So I started to work as a volunteer at Het Anker and began a workshop on

sewing, hairdressing, cook-ing and IT. The people who attend my workshops, such as single mothers, have usually never had the chance to go to school. We teach them skills that improve their chances of !nding a suitable job.

Like many migrants I am caught between two cultures. Most Belgians see me as a

stranger, and in Congo I am no longer seen as a real Congolese. I have learned to feel good about this, to do something with it. To people here, I give something of my African background: warmth, solidarity, the ability to put things in perspective, joy. People here are always stressed, always rushing to an appointment. Is it any wonder that so many people in Belgium su"er strokes? In the Congo, things are more relaxed: nobody particu-larly minds if you are half an hour late. We don’t drama-tise. Belgians can learn from that. When the train is ten

there to here

Brussels identities from A to Z

22 www.thebullet in.be October 8 2009

CongoPetronelle Mubande is one of the 7,000 people with Congolese nationality living in Brussels - the

Congolese community, including those naturalised and illegal, being signi!cantly larger than

that. Like many of her compatriots, Petronelle "ed her native Kinshasa. Despite the terrors of

the Belgian colonial reign in the Congo – which under Leopold II was particularly ruthless, even

for its day – she came to Belgium !lled with great expectations. “Like most Congolese, I thought

that Belgium was a good country, !lled with honourable people, and that Brussels would be a

beautiful city.” But reality bit hard...

“Even so, I keep on saying hello – after ten times my neighbour will probably return my greetings”

022_023_there to here.indd 22 6/10/2009 10:44:42

minutes late, you can either stress out and pace franti-cally back and forth on the platform, or you can see it as a chance to talk to your neighbour, read the paper or think up a new idea. That is “African time”. Granted, though, Western punctuality has its advantages: it ena-bles you to get things done. In Africa, you can really only do one thing a day...

Unlike many other migrants, I speak openly about my experiences in Brussels to my family in Congo: about the racism, about the cold mentality, about the daily struggle to survive. I am honest, and not ashamed about my life in Belgium, because I try everything that I can to make the best of it. And perhaps I can also con-tribute to a more realistic image, among the Congolese, of Belgium and the West in general – paradise does not appear to exist.

Racism is bad, not only for migrants, but also for Belgium: it is a good thing when newcomers move easily into the labour market, when they are content with their new land. It is a good thing when talented people from everywhere apply themselves to make

Belgian society better. Migrants will keep on coming anyway, so we’d better learn how to deal with them in a positive way. Anyway, we migrants of “colour” (whom “the Belgians” do not consider to be Belgians) will ultimately defeat racism. Brussels is now a very mixed city, and you can’t keep excluding half the population. So I keep on saying hello – after ten times my neighbour will probably return my greetings. I wait until the elderly woman understands that the reason I always help her with her garbage bag is not because I’m looking for money, but simply because I’m a helpful person. You know, some day things will turn out right...

Interv!ew by Veerle Devos & Kr!stof DamsImage by Veerle Devos

In pra!se of...

I love the Grand’Place because it’s a multicultural spot where many people go; tourists of course, but all Brussels people of all ages and origins at one point cross the square too. I take my visitors there, and also to the Manneken Pis. Because a little guy, urinating round the clock as a symbol for Brussels – that’s just as batty as a loon, no?

Matonge in Kinshasa is a neighbourhood that is always full of life: shops are open all day and night, street vendors sell their goods around the clock; cafés and restaurants are always filled to the brim. This quarter, that never sleeps, gave its name to an arcade in Ixelles, which became a

meeting place for the Congolese, and later on for all Africans. - Het Anker at

25 Rue Marcq/straat, my second home. Here, I have my workshop where I give courses in sewing, cooking, IT and hairdressing.

October 8 2009 www.thebullet in.be 23

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