Let me start with a short story about moving in Belgium from around New Year. Just because it is funny:) Pls, disregard the language mistakes:)
THE MOVINGIt was Thursday, a day just like any other. But already some days before I knew that things planned for that Thursday will not finish the way, they were planned. It was THE Thursday, THE DAY when I moved, well when I was supposed to move to new apartment. But, as I live in Brussels, the law of Murphy applies is all cases all over Belgium. In every single case and in every single way. Unfortunately, but true. Those who have experienced it know what I am talking about. Those, who have not experienced it, will say that I am exaggerating. Anyway, if you believe it or not, here is a story that will make you laugh (at least I hope so) at least for a while and maybe it will also stir us to appreciate the countries, we are coming from.
We (me and my boyfriend Dag) woke up early in the morning to finish with the latest preparations for the moving to my new apartment; to close and seal the last boxes; to have a cup of coffee and a spoon of Nutella, before we would pack last things in the boxes. To be late in Belgium is something completely natural, and so was the moving company. This time they were late only half an hour. But at least they started working straight away. The boxes and the furniture were in the moving truck in about two hours considering the fact that some of the furniture needed to be dismantled into smaller pieces. Everything went quite smooth when putting the furniture and all my belongings into the truck, considering the fact that I never got special bags for clothes they promised and that they came totally disorganised; read without any tools although I agreed for dismantling and putting the furniture together as well. We were more worried what will happen when we will reach the new destination. I kind of suspected that somebody did not do his homework. And I was right. I believe that what you think influences what happens, but this was just too much. And I did not really want this to happen, but I kind of knew it will happen. Maybe that is why I was not so surprised, angry or nervous when thing started going wrong. We reached the new destination easy and without any complications. Even the truck managed to get there, even though this street is only one way.
Firstly, the parking place, which I reserved for all Thursday, has been completely occupied. Typically. The signs in Belgium do not count for anything. The truck had to go around the neighbourhood twice, before it could park on the parking place envisaged. Immediately the guys from the moving company told us that the moving will not be possible on that day as the street is too narrow and the parking place too far from the windows through which they planned to move the furniture. Furthermore the fixed fence on the sidewalks made the moving impossible. They told me that it was my fault, because I was supposed to inform them that I would need a special lift and not a standard one. Furthermore they said that my windows were not standard size, but smaller and that I should have informed them of this as well. Strange, I somehow expected that I was paying them also to check the place where I was moving to as I gave them the address and informed them of the floor to which the things should be moved. At the end it is them the moving company, not me. I quickly realised that the things will probably not be moved that day and I tried to reach solution. They clearly let me know that this was completely my problem and only mine and it was only me, who had to reach a solution without their help. At the end, they made some phone calls to see which other moving company could lend them a special lift and we finally agreed that the moving will be done on Saturday. That cost me extra 125 Euro. Just the lift.
After lunch and a coffee, I went to the police office to check if the road signs that they put on the parking place I reserved, could stay there until Saturday. The police in Belgium is worth a special story. After explaining to the woman working at the reception at the entrance which service I was looking for, she directed me to the second floor. Walking into the reception of the second floor was like stepping into a low budget low class movie. A guy sitting in the right corner of the office, only him and nobody else, just waiting for the time to pass by I guess. Furthermore straight on was the poor receptionist; probably the most bored human being in this world. I greeted both and looked to the guy on the right seeking any signal of life from him telling me that he is not waiting for the receptionist, but at somebody else. I greeted again, this time focus at the receptionist, waiting for a reply and a standard question “Oui?” meaning “Yes, what the f**k do you want from me? Don’t you see that I am busy doing nothing? Where the hell did you come from and who sent you? Why the hell don’t you return to your God-forsaken country you came from in the first place?”. Instead of that I received the most bored look I ever saw on person’s face. Can people really be so bored, so shallow? He looked somewhere behind me, into a wall, mumbling something to himself in French not even a French would understand. Then his boss passed by informing him that he will not return to the office that day. Wow, with the speed of light the face of the receptionist changed and just after his boss left the office, he mumbled to himself loudly “Thanks God that the boss finally decided to leave”, this time more clearly and understandable. I was surprised, but not as much as I would have been if I would not have been used to see this happening all over Brussels . And finally, he looked at me with the expression I described above asking me “Oui?” meaning what I already explained. I took a deep breath and explained him the situation with the road signs, the moving that did not take place and that I would need to make another reservation for the parking place for Saturday. “No problem” he said, just change the date on the road signs yourself, it is completely legitimate and legal. Surprised I asked again if this is really the case as it seemed too strange to me. Again he confirmed and when I asked him again if this is the case, a second policeman came by and confirmed again. After receiving three confirms from the second policeman, I said to myself “Ok”, although a bit suspicious, and started wondering if I might ask them for a written confirmation, just in case. In the end, I did not. I left police with a different worry on my mind – where to find a piece of chalk or a special pen to change the date on the road signs.
Just when I was in front of a shop ready to buy a piece of chalk, I received a phone call from the moving company informing me that they got the lift and that they will finally be at my place in an hour. Wow, a great weight has been taken off my mind. I thought, WOW, the moving will all in all take place that day. After an hour and a half of waiting for the moving company I decided to call them to see where they were and when I could expect them. I was surprised when I heard from the man on the other side that the moving in the end will not take place on that day, but on Saturday. So, everybody knew it, except me. It looks like somebody forgot to inform the one, who was mostly concerned by this. Me.
The worries about the chalk for the road signs came back to my mind instantly. As I was still in doubts about changing the date on the road signs by myself, I decided to try to call to the phone number that was written in small print at the very bottom of the paper I received as a confirmation for the reservation of the parking place. At least once in lifetime in Belgium a nice voice on the other side explained me that I definitely need to make a new request for reservation for the parking place and that in no case I should change the dates on the road signs by myself. I thanked to the nice voice and asked him if he could tell me how I could do that still that day. He invited me to pass by his office on the other side of Brussels . He was kind enough to inform me that he will be in his office until late that day as he still had work to do. Those living in Belgium know that public services usually never work after noon. I was really happy that at least one person was ready to help me out and not trying to cheat on me.
I got to knew new districts of Brussels , those north of the Gare du Nord, both on the left and on the right side, before reaching my final destination. I entered the police, nobody asked me a question why I came there and whom I am looking for. I went to the fourth floor as instructed by the nice voice on the phone and found the only living soul still working that day so late in the whole floor. YES, there is God. I explained the situation again to this nice policeman. He was nice enough and just changed the dates on the paper I had without charging me again for making the reservation for a second time, telling me that what the moving company did was completely irresponsible. I thanked him, wished his happy new year and kind of regretted that he probably is Belgian as he did not act as a real Belgian.
At least at the end of the day, I solved this problem. But still the furniture was packed and stored in a truck in some warehouse in Belgium . Possibly it will not be stolen, I thought. And I managed to solve the problem as regards the road signs and the reservation of the parking place. I was satisfied with myself, happy to know that everything will arrange itself on Saturday. Sometimes things have to happen in another manner and we do not necessarily have to understand at that time why.
At that time I had other worries coming to my mind. As everything, just everything was packed, all my furniture, all my belongings, all my clothes, I was left until Saturday with the things I had on me and with me. Only this and nothing else. I felt homeless. But more than this, I was worried where we will sleep that day. I had two beautiful apartments to choose from where to sleep, but both were completely empty, offering only heating and water. At least that. As I planned to buy the inflatable bed after I would have moved, this was the perfect time to do some shopping. So, we went and we bought the bed, sheets, extra cover, two towels and some food and returned to the new apartment. I was happy to have heating and running water. At least we could take a shower, wash some of the clothes and place them on the radiators hoping that they will dry until morning, so that we could wear them again the next day.
THE NEXT DAY
On Friday I woke up feeling the worst. With greasy hair I had only one thing on my mind. I was ready to go to the hairstylist just to wash my hair. In the end I did not go to the hairstylist and we survived most of the time sleeping and resting from the previous day and trying to get some energy for the upcoming day – the Saturday, the day when the furniture and the rest was scheduled to arrive.
THE SATURDAY
Imagine beautiful Marolles in its perfect state. Sun shining, old furniture and antiques shops open, streets full of curious people looking for something strange to make their lives and flats colourful for a moment or for lifetime, children playing in the streets, “gifted” musicians playing on the streets, people in their “best” suits walking down the streets not knowing that they are lost in this part of the city that does not really care if you are a beggar or a rich man, funky young people ignoring the system, drinking coffee, looking at the chaos around them and thinking about the f**king beautiful life. And then the truck came. THE truck from the moving company.
Of course the reserved parking place was occupied by ignorant and easy-going people. The neighbour next door from the fruit market immediately removed his colourful hippy van, the rich man was nagging due to the fact that he had to move his ugly, according to him his pussy-magnet car to another parking place. All that rest was Renault Modus. As his owner did not show up, the moving company called the police. Police came and asked for the papers based on which they made the report and called the towing service to remove the car that blocked the parking place. I showed them the paper and without even having a good look at the paper they immediately said that it was not the right one. I just smiled, wishing I was dreaming and I could wake up from this nightmare. The guy from the moving company intervened and the policewoman made the report and called the towing service. The other policeman or policewoman (I could not identify the gender of the other one) stayed in the police van. The owners of the antique shops nearby came out and started looking what was happening, children playing joined them and admired the police, people passing by started asking what was going on. Everything looked very suspicious and incredible. The truck that was blocking the street, the “special” lift that had to go around the neighbourhood several times waiting for the Renault Modus to be removed. The people in the cars waiting started getting nervous, they used their horns, the buses could not pass by. Chaos, total chaos. And then the towing service showed up just in the moment when the owner of the car dropped by. She apologised and said the car was not hers, but from her daughter. She tried to turn the engine of the car on, but it did not work. Dag and me strated laughing as we did not believe our eyes. It felt like in a movie. The whole movie that started on Thursday unfolded before our eyes and as we did not have energy for anything else, we started laughing. Even we did not believe our own eyes. I had to promise Dag that I would document this happening and share it with the rest of the world. He promised he will be my witness that I tell the truth and only truth, because if he would not have seen all this with his own eyes, he would not have believed it, he said. I promised. We continued looking at the chaos on the street. The driver of the towing service, the policewoman and the guy from the moving company looked at the engine of this car, blocking the parking place, trying to find the solution so that the engine of the car would start working. Each one of them tried to turn on the engine, but it did not work. The woman repeated for the hundredth time that the car was not hers, but from her daughter. As if though the police would not make her pay the fine. Finally, the men agreed to temporarily push the car to the side. The woman got into the car and the men tried to push the car. But she forgot to release the hand brake. They reminded her to release it. Then she put her foot on the brake instead of on the clutch. At that moment we finally understood why men think women cannot drive. Finally, the car was moved to the side and the truck could park. The towing service drove around the neighbourhood again and returned in less than 10 minutes to pick up the car that did not work. The police left and everything seemed calm, ready to move the things finally. The moving company set up the special lift and the moving begun.
The neighbours leaned onto their windows, people passing by curiously looked, finally everybody was satisfied when first boxes reached fourth floor. I opened immediately the first box to check if my laptop was still in one of them. I found it and all my worries seemed tiny when I found out that I have at least two nice neighbours having open wireless internet line. The moving continued, the furniture and all other things reached its final destination. I tried not to involve and made myself some tea. After some three hours everything except the bookshelves chest was moved. For the latter, the moving company said it was too big to bring it through the window and we will have to bring it to the fourth floor ourselves. I could not believe my ears and told them that I have paid them and agreed with them that they will dismantle and put together everything. They denied this of course and told me that I should discuss this with the person I reached this agreement in the first place. But the problem was that the person in charge was somewhere on the other side of the world at that time, enjoying new year’s holidays, and we were stuck in this beautiful Brussels moving things. I told them straight away that I understood that I was a foreigner in this country and that my French was far from perfect, but that I was not stupid and that I would not play their game. Finally they put the bookshelves chest in the hall of the building and asked me to pay for their service. I told them that we would first dismantle the chest and take everything upstairs and then I would return to discuss with them about the price. I told them as well that I did not approve of them charging me extra for the special lift, because they did not do their homework. They also tried to charge me extra money for the boxes, although the price has been agreed. I told them straight that I would not pay more than we agreed, although in the end I also paid for the lift. I let them know that I had to pay twice for the reservation of the parking place, although I did not have to, but I wanted them to know that my business with them was not finished yet when they left. They even complained that they never dismantle furniture and that they did this voluntarily and not by agreement and that they hate Ikea furniture. That was also how they acted towards it.
When I returned to the apartment, I was happy to see things around, I counted the boxes, all were there. I checked if the wardrobe and the bed have been put together correctly and I found out that they were of course put together wrong. Fortunately our first aid tools were there and we started dismantling both and putting them together in the right way. We continued with cleaning, vacuuming and after a while we left everything. Fed up with everything, we finally changed our clothes and went out for dinner.
In the following days, surprises awaited. I found out that my money box in a shape of pink Barbapapa full of Euro coins was missing. I searched whole apartment, but I could not find it. The fact that it was full of coins was not so important, I wanted my pink Barbapapa back. These bastards took something I liked very much. Then I noticed that a small pocket torch was missing as well. I remembered I packed them together.
After New Year I called the person in charge. I explained him the situation and he promised to call me back. He called me back the next day promising that he will find a solution. He asked me to call him back next day. I called him back the next day. He did not answer. He called me back the following day. I did not hear the ringing. I called him back. He did not answer. I called the following day. He did not answer.
The story has not finished yet.
_____________________________
Well in the meanwhile the story finished. I got some money back, but I also discovered that at least one more thing is missing:) But, life goes on.
