Morning in Molenbeek
A photo essay and reflection
I learned about the Molenbeek neighborhood of Brussels in the aftermath of the recent terrorist attacks in Paris. At least two of the attackers called the neighborhood home and planned the attacks from there.
I read “Molenbeek broke my heart” by photographer and former resident Teun Voeten. Voeten reflects on his time living there and eventually leaving because he “could no longer stand to live in this despondent, destitute, fatalistic neighborhood.”
Having travelled to Brussels for work several times a year for the last couple of years, I had never been to or even heard of Molenbeek. But when I looked up Molenbeek on the map, I realized that it was just minutes from the central Brussels neighborhoods where I usually stay, even if completely off the radar of the typical tourist or business traveller (like myself) dealing with European Union officialdom.
I’m back in Brussels for work this week, not long after the city has re-emerged from lockdown. I wanted to see Molenbeek for myself. I’m not sure what I would see or what I would gain from going, but I wanted to get my own perspective. I wanted to understand.
Walking around Molenbeek on a sunny Monday morning in December, I see hipster and hijabis. I spot a youth hostel across the street from a hamam and a mosque next door to a community arts center. There are a lot of halal butcher shops here, as well as halal pizza and even halal pad thai.
I see signs in the usual bilingual Belgian mix of Dutch and French, as well as Arabic and smatterings of Romanian and Italian. I overhear snippets of conversations in Arabic and Arabic-inflected French: “Oui, bien sûr, (Arabic, Arabic, Arabic) C’est-à-dire (more words in Arabic).”
It doesn’t feel all that different from other Brussels neighborhoods that I have experienced. I see people going about their day, starting their week. I hear children playing in the schoolyard. I see groups of men and groups of women chatting with their neighbors on the street and in a little park where I sit for a few minutes to gather my thoughts in a notebook.
I see a typical Monday morning in a European city. I see diversity. I see humanity. Alienation and failures of integration exist here too, but that is just part of the story.
Spending a few hours in Molenbeek makes me little more than a tourist passing through, but I hope my words and pictures help to offer another perspective on a neighborhood made infamous by terrorists.
