Give me an "A"

Saturday was a beautiful day spent in Antwerp—except for the fact that it was rainy and I was ill prepared for the cold.

We started the day in the red light district. We met with Patsy Sorenson, the founder of Payoke, Belgian NGO that provides assistance to victims of trafficking of human beings. Sorenson is an amazing woman. But more on that later.

After Payoke we had an audience with the mayor of Antwerp in the most beautiful city hall I’ve ever seen.

It definitely beats the hell out of Toronto’s or Ottawa’s. There were beautifully ornate woodwork ceilings and walls with wooden banisters, low hanging chandeliers, marble floors and gorgeous artwork on the walls.

Every room was more beautiful than the next. The chapel had five murals depicting marriage ceremonies throughout history: the druids, the Romans, Middle ages, medieval times and Renaissance. I took the time to get hitched myself

(Note to my family: Don’t worry, the groom is gay).

Walking through the building, my little historian’s heart fluttered in my chest.

Step outside city hall and it’s a huge square (Belgians seem to enjoy squares as there’s one in Brussels as well). On the left is a church, in front of you is a fountain that has no obvious drainage system. From one of the balconies you can see the spires of a church in the distance.

Walking around these buildings and squares, it’s a bit disheartening to think of the stone and concrete and glass that await me in Canada. Who would want to go back to modern architecture when you can live, eat and walk on your own history? North American buildings seem so boring and bland, almost cold in comparison. I do appreciate them in some ways (for example, like this (link the new ROM)). But I wonder if Europeans understand how lucky they are. They have something that North Americans never will: easy access to their own history.

More than shelter, architecture provides a collective sense of history, a communal memory. Germans can take pride knowing their style of lodging is different than the stucco of Mediterranean homes.

From my travels (both now and when I was younger visiting Portugal), I’ve been amazed at the daily reminders of history in various European cities: cobble stoned streets, coat of arms etched into buildings, gothic cathedrals on every corner. I wonder if Europeans are amazed by them as I am. What do citizens of Antwerp think when they go to City Hall? Are they as amazed as I am? Somehow, I doubt it. With buildings like most things, if you grow up with something, you take it for granted. Maybe it’s because I’m a history student, or because I’m from Canada—a infant nation compared to the old stewards in Europe—but I hope they appreciate it.