I’ve started to explore the beauties and pitfalls of Molière’s language as well, but in the beginning I had to rely on my Dutch to find my way in the maze of Belgian bureaucracy. I did it with pleasure.

Getting registered in the city council, opening a bank account, get cable/internet installed in your apartment are just a few items on the list of chores a newcomer has to go through.

The Brussels capital region is by law bilingual (French and Dutch), but predominantly French speaking. This bilingual status means that all signs, street names are in two languages and that staff in the public administration, the police and hospitals should be able to communicate in both languages. This is not always the case.

My theory was that if I use Dutch and not English to deal with the authorities, they simply cannot ignore me. They didn’t. But some of them surely broke out in a sweat while they were trying to answer my questions or ask something. A bank clerk once even apologized for his poor Dutch. A French-speaking police officer did the same when he could not draw up a two-line document in Dutch stating that I am a registered resident of the city.

Other authorities took linguistic aspects fully into consideration and worked with military precision. After my first year here I received a hefty envelope from the tax authority with all kinds of forms in it. Everything was in French, by default. I sent them an e-mail in Dutch explaining that this is not going to work. A few days later I received another hefty envelope with the same forms. This time everything was in Dutch.

Stories and anecdotes are galore about Dutch language use and abuse in Brussels including ludicrously translated restaurant menus and the golden rule that if you speak neither Dutch or French, always go for Dutch when you call a customer service line. Chances are higher that you’ll get someone on the other end of the line who speaks English. But then bear the consequences. You will probably get all your correspondence from that company in Dutch in the future.

This can be a cardinal issue. The language of telephone bills has been recently a subject of a parliamentary question in the Belgian chamber of representatives. A member wanted to find out what the approximate percentage of Dutch speaking Belgians in the capital was. He thought that the percentage of phone bills sent out in Dutch would be a good and reliable indicator.

The telecom company concerned sends out 7% of its bills in Dutch in Brussels, answered the minister in charge. But this would then include those who once out of necessity opted for the Dutch menu when they called the customer service line. According to a study published last year, the proportion of Dutch speaking Belgians in the capital is even lower, 5,3% (55 000 people). French speaking Belgians make up 66,5% of the population, the rest is foreigners.

A handful of these foreigners are the Brussels-based correspondents and journalists. They report not only about EU affairs but also keep an eye on what is going on in Belgium. But who are these people and what sources they rely on when they write their stories about Belgium? Katrien Maerivoet, a university student, tried to profile them in her dissertation. She interviewed 20 of the 829 foreign correspondents who were officially based in Brussels in 2009.

Only two out of her interviewees claimed that they spoke Dutch: a journalist from the Netherlands and a Belorussian correspondent living in Flanders. Although we don’t know how the rest of the correspondents would have answered to this question, the proportion is indicative.

Do foreign correspondents then exclusively rely on the francophone Belgian media to follow Belgian current affairs? Many would say yes. This may also explain why Flanders Today, an English weekly (the online version is also available in French) reporting on current Flemish affairs was brought into life a few years ago. Surprisingly though, many correspondents said that they didn’t speak French either as they took it for granted that everyone in Belgium speaks English.

Language use remains a very sensitive and often political issue in several parts of Europe. Brussels and its immediate surroundings (this is another story) is one of these places. But what I’ve always found amusing in Brussels is that whenever I’ve done a Dutch or French course there were surely a few Belgians in my group. Last Monday, one of them said that she signed up for the French course so that she would feel “a bit more Belgian”. It was good to hear her say that.

A look at the centre of the world... © youdontsmellbad on flickr

I have Danish, Bulgarian and Maltese colleagues in the office next to me. An Italian one in front of me. Some German, Spanish, Polish, Slovenian, Finnish colleagues in the same corridor. And they all speak perfect English. What about me? I’m French. And I sometimes feel stupid in that multicultural, multilingual and open-minded environment. Speaking two languages isn’t very spectacular when your colleagues speak as much as 3, 4, 5, even 10 languages!!!

Well, I could’nt say my colleagues don’t pay attention to me, no, that’s the contrary. All of them know about my place of birth, in Brittany. They all were there for some holidays. They all know about the town I’m now living in, in North of France. Most of all speak French fluent, and, and, and… It’s perhaps a victory for the “francophonie”, a victory for all people defending the French language in the world, the people who are fighting for the French “exception culturelle”, for the French tourism and the wonderful French landscapes… But that don’t motivate French people to have a look across borders. The characteristic French people are proud of their country; sometimes, it’s like they’re in the centre of the world.

I’m French. I was born in France, grew up in France. Nothing but usual. Learned then German – what a strange idea… Went then to Germany for the study, two years long. Really unusual in France. Now, when I’m back home, I feel like an alien, speaking fluent another language (will see now how long my German remains better than my English – could probably hold one or two years?), having travelled in several European countries and worked in China once…

But in other countries – tell me if I’m wrong -, that’s usual. I had this feeling in Germany for example. In Brussels, that’s more than usual. Your Lithuanian colleague knows the little town you’re born in but you don’t know the main city of his country (Please don’t say Riga…)? Well, looks like bad. On top of that, French people are apparently famous for being arrogant: so I have to integrate myself while breaking this image. I have to go to the people, I have to communicate in another language… That’s the point: speaking German is good but we work in English in our unit.

So my English is in the centre of two main challenges, a professional one (working with my colleagues, writing good articles, understanding what’s going on) and another one which I’d like to name “socialization” (integrate myself in a team, interact with colleagues, being happy while going to work…). How to reach that? I formally take you as witness of a commitment…

Six months. I give me six months in order to speak enough English for the ordinary activities at the European Parliament. Do you know how long it takes me to write this post? I let you guess… I promise to cut this time by 30 % by September 2009. It’s like the climate change – I have to invest now in order to save energy in the future. It’s the only way to sustainable working in the European Parliament!