This is the Congolese or "African" district mind you, and the solution to any problem is to honk your horn. A lot. Bite your tongue? Honk. Angry at the world? Honk. Happy? Honk too.
In this case, somebody came out of one of the bars and found themselves shut in, so they honked. And honked. And honked some more. My frustration started to grow after about 5 minutes until a car, a street or so over, decided to start honking along in solidarity. Like two ships lost in the fog, they communicated in slow, defiant beeps. I have no idea what they said, other than "Get me the fuck out."
The common struggle of Matonge. Or maybe people just like honking. I've been told that it is just the way to get things moving in Africa: you honk, they move. Nevermind the noise.
I haven't been to Africa yet, but I'd guess it would be an interesting visit after living here, a place modeled after a city in Congo. The only way that I can describe the Africans I've met since living here is... relaxed, to the point of not giving an absolute shit. A cop came to verify my existence when I applied for my ID card here, and when I answered the door he gave me a run down of my new neighborhood. He said,
"Most of the people around here will tell you if they have a problem. They will say it to your face, that's their culture. Except for the Moroccans, they'll stab you in the back".
A little racist-sounding, and he was a Flemish cop (managed to insult my wife, too), but the point I got out of it was that the cultures are very different, and the majority of people who live or frequent the area bring their culture along with them. It's true. It's not even a question, really.
A lot of the people living in this area are first generation immigrants. The streets that compose Matonge are lined with fruit and vegetable shops that sell things like plantains, and the "really fucking hot peppers", as I call them, that tend to grow in Africa... not to mention weaves and other hair products. All at the same time, in the same shop, sold by Pakistanis (Chris Rock should have come here for his documentary. I have literally seen TumbleWeaves).
That's why I love this place; the fusion of cultures is exactly what you would expect from "big city" life, as my grandparents would probably call it. Yet it works -- Matonge isn't Dante's Inferno, like everybody seems to think it is. (The last article I looked up online was some racist bullshit about gang violence)
Despite everything, Brussels is a melting pot full of all sorts of people who manage to get along under almost any circumstances. And there's not even a government! Maybe that's why it works?
