Tuesday, 29 July 2008

Belgian quiz!

I feel like things are getting a bit blah around here at the moment. Dull, dull dull. So quiz time! But first, some politics. Eh oui.

Ok, right, so you have this little country. It is about the size of Leamington Spa (artistic licence alright? Go with me). Interestingly, about half the inhabitants of Leamington Spa country speak one language, and the other half speak another. About 4 people speak a third language but noone cares about them. The first language people really really hate the second language people. They are angry people! You can kind of sympathise when you hear language one. I mean, if you had to say slaagroom every time you want whipped cream you'd be angry. Historically though, they are angry because second language people used to own all the land and grind dirt in the faces of the babies of the first language people, or something. Whatever.

The second language people feel slightly wounded about all this hatred and want to keep speaking their language when they want and where they want. Even in the bits of Leamington Spa where most first language people live. The first language people do not want this at all. There is fighting! Of a civilised, mainly verbal sort. Leamington Spa is in dire jeopardy! It may cease to exist altogether! Why can't we all just love each other? Hmm, this is beginning to sound like the kind of turgid role-playing games we had to do at Woodcraft Folk.

[As an aside here, I have no idea why I decided to make life so complicated for myself with this 'Leamington Spa' thing. I didn't sleep well, forgive me.]

Guess what people? This is Belgium. And now we are going to have a quiz to help you all work out what kind of Belgian you are!

1. How do you get to work?

a) In my giant SUV, windows down, soft rock pumping, shades on with my blonde mane flying in the breeze.

b) On my vélo, making sure not to forget my helmet and cycle clips and a tasty organic snack in the panier

c) Work? Qu'est-ce que c'est ce "work"?

d) Tin opener, submarine

2. How do you relax?

a) I go to the sauna and then have inventive sex with my muscular husband. Sometimes we smoke a little dope.

b) I tend my allotment and weave hemp bags on my handmade loom. Sometimes we smoke a little dope.

c) I retire to my country estate and shoot things. Sometimes my younger son brings me peculiar herbal substances that he insists are good for relaxation. That is pleasing.

d) Dancing polka with my lobster friends.

3. You're getting ready for a big night out. What do you wear?

a) Something tight, white and blingy. Always some leather. Leather is sooo sexy.

b) My best pair of loon pants with the tie-dye detail. Nice comfy sandals. A colourful turban.

c) Oh, you know, the usual. Ceremonial robes, medals, sash. That kind of thing.

d) Grapefruit. Sweden. Squirrel.

4. What's for dinner?

a) Witloof

b) Chicon

c) Chicon

d) Spade tractor brown clarinet

5. Complete this sentence: "For me Belgium is .....

a) Dead. An irrelevance. We must burn its corpse and dance on the ashes.

b) A nice place to buy organic vegetables and raise a grubby semi-feral family. If only those angry Flems wouldn't keep shouting so much. Keep the noise down guys! I can't hear my nose flute!

c) Mine, all mine.

d) Toothbrush.

How did you do?

Mostly a - You're Flemish! Goodness you look cross. But also rather shiny.

Mostly b) You're walloon! That's French speaking, non-Belgians. Crazy word, crazy people.

Mostly c) You're Albert II, King of Belgium!

Mostly d) You're famous Belgian surrealist Réné Magritte!

Ceci n'est pas un blog.


zoe said...

I found those questions really, really difficult. Let me try again.

Dumdad said...

I'm the King of Belgium, which has come as a bit of a surprise.

Parisgirl said...

Fabulous stuff. I think I might be the King of Belgium too!
I've had a soft spot for Belgium since it gave Johnny Hallyday a big fat "non" to becoming a national after he developed a sudden fondness for the place. (Did someone mention income tax?)

Jaywalker said...

Zoe - any more luck? I see you as a sort of Magritte/Flemish cross. In a complimentary way.

Dumdad - I would expect no less as sole male commenter, and am sure you will look great in that sash. I am sure you and ParisGirl will do a great jobshare on it. Watch out for that Prince Laurent though, he's a chancer.

Felix Atagong said...

Well, if you happen to live in Limburg you'll probably say slaagroom for whipped cream. All the other phlegmatic Flemings say (and write) slagroom and so do the Dutch, with the exception of the Dutch Limburgers of course...

If you will excuse me now for a minute I've got a couple of Walloons to cook for dinner.

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Anonymous said...

Is a lifetime later too long to leave a comment here? Couldn't be helped as this blog post has only surfaced for me today. Back in the olden days (1999), I had the dubious pleasure of living in a Novotel Hotel room in Ghent for 5 very long months, yet the only Flemish word I can remember is slagroom. It was so catchy then and has just stuck around. Alstublieft still lurks, admittedly, but doesn't have the same usefulness in my life today.

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