Emile-Paul, our tour guide said repeatedly during our tour of Brussels that the Belgians are weird.
Behold, “the third-most-famous statue in the world,” as Emile-Paul put it.
Manneken Pis has been putting the uri(nation) of Belgium on the map since around 1619. That’s a lot of water under the … um … taint.
Manneken Pis (pronounced “Mah-neh-ken Peez”) is ridiculously embedded within the culture of Belgium. I don’t know about you, but when I’m fired up to eat some truffles, I don’t want to trifle with a quintet of Wee Willie Winkies.
Look out, ghost of Jim Croce, I don’t think that’s “time” in them thar bottles.
Manneken mania extends to three of the four basic Belgian food groups (Chocolate, beer, frites and waffles).
Don’t believe me? See how they apply vinegar to yer chips in this town.
Our little wizard changes several times a week. It’s a big deal, with people awaiting his costume changes whilst wolfing down waffles (more on this later). His wardrobe features several hundred outfits, with several being added and subtracted every now and again.
You can visit a museum where they keep his wardrobe.
So why is this little kid memorialized? There are four legends:
- In the 1100s, Duke Godfrey III of Leuven’s troops were in combat against the forces of the lords of Grimbergen. The young Duke was in a basket, hanging from a tree in the battle field, to inspire his soldiers. The boy stood up in his basket and brought forth yellow rain upon the hated foe. His golden shower inspired his men to deliver victory.
- In the 1300s, the city of Brussels was under siege. The forces of good had provided a stout defense, so the enemy placed explosive charges before the walls of the city. Julianske, a little boy, spied on the enemy and urinated on a burning fuse, saving the day.
- The beloved son of a merchant disappeared. Searchers scoured the city’s nooks and crannies until the boy was found, relieving himself in a garden. The merchant then built a statue to commemorate the occasion.
- A mother lost her small son during a shopping trip in the city center. Her cries started a city-wide search that ended when the boy was found going to the bathroom on a street corner.
I guess it’s a good thing we put pants on little kids these days, otherwise there might be several billion statues.
I spied what suspiciously looks like a keg attached to the fountain. Sorry, but this was the best angle I could get (look lower-left).
OK, I lied, here’s a better angle.
Wut?
You can buy hundreds of types of statues. Apparently, it’s pretty cool to get one with pictures of Brussels’ iconic attractions tatted on his 3-year-old naked bod.
Don’t worry, we’ve got weirder. I mean dark.
Belgium is nothing if not a nation of equal-opportunity offenders. I present to you Jeanneke Pis.
I don’t understand what going №1 has to do with cancer research, but I threw a few coins in the designated slot and shuffled off feeling very uncomfortable.
But this is the land of the weird, right? So you can’t go too far without finding more. My lovely bride found this hepcat on the wall of a building a 20-minute walk away. He looks like he has bladder issues, and I believe he’s called “Dammit Cantpis.”
Somebody give the poor guy some Flomax.
I’ll end this missive with more tidings of discomfit and oi!
Blistering barnicles! What has been seen cannot be unseen. To which, I say, “Ten Thousand Thundering Typhoons, you Bashi Bazouks!”
