ING: Incompetent Banking in Belgium

There is a strong consensus among people from other countries who live in Belgium that much of its administration is unnecessarily onerous. In northern Europe, places like Germany, Holland and Scandinavia have many rules and regulations, but apply them quite smoothly and efficiently.

Southern Europe tends to be looser and less well organized. Both public and private institutions in Belgium seem to combine northern rigidity with southern disorganization.

To open a bank account, one is supposed to have a fixed Belgian address. Of course, to get such an address, one needs a Euro-denominated bank account to put down a deposit to rent or buy housing.

The big banks like Dexia and ING will circumvent this “Catch 22” by initially opening an account based on a foreign address and then updating to a Belgian address later. (They will still not provide a no-fee online account without a Belgian address.)

ING actually advertises itself as the bank of choice for expatriates. It offers a fairly complete package for a flat 30 Euros per year and claims to provide English-language service.

For me, the decisive factor was that ING is my employer’s bank, so I would get paid faster. Rather than having to change a bunch of Canadian dollars into Euros, I was able to immediately use my first Euro salary deposit to rent my apartment. But ING, and from what I hear other banks in Belgium, have several odd defects.

1.) Restricted Temporary Cards

When I opened my ING account, I got a temporary bank card and a brochure about how my bank card would function throughout the Euro-zone. I then went to Amsterdam only to discover that my temporary card did not work. Fortunately, I had just enough cash to get through the weekend.

Two Years of Pool Renovations?

I sent the following letter to the mayor of my commune:

March 31, 2011

Jean Demannez
Bourgmestre
Commune de Saint-Josse-ten-Noode

Dear Bourgmestre Demannez,

I write regarding the excessively long closure of the Piscine Saint-François.

An important consideration in my decision to reside in Saint-Josse was proximity to a swimming pool. Before signing my lease, I phoned the commune office and was told that the Piscine Saint-François would reopen at the beginning of 2011.

The Piscine Saint-François website now indicates “Reouverture Fin Mars 2011.” But when I phoned the commune office today, I was informed that it will not reopen until September 2011.

Since the pool was closed throughout 2010, it will have been closed for twenty consecutive months before reopening. I have difficulty imagining what renovations or tests could take that long.

To go swimming, I must now walk half an hour north to the Neptunium in Schaerbeek or take the metro south to the Bains du Centre. Both pools charge higher admission fees because I reside outside of their communes.

Why are Saint-Josse residents being deprived of this public service for nearly two years?

Yours truly,

Erin Weir

Europe’s Lingua Franca: English

In attending several conferences organized by European Union institutions, I have been surprised by the extent to which official communication occurs in English. A back-of-envelope history follows.

After World War II, there was little prospect of German being the European language. The Romance languages got off to a strong start with France, Belgium and Italy as founding members of the European Economic Community. Spain and Portugal provided some reinforcement in 1986.

English got in the game in 1973, with Britain and Ireland joining the Community. The Nordics have been another pro-English force, with Denmark also joining in 1973, followed by Sweden and Finland in 1995.

But what really put English over the top was the European Union’s enlargement since 2004 to include Eastern Europe, which is overwhelmingly more interested in learning English than French. And founding members like Germany and the Netherlands are presumably happy enough to watch the tide turn in favour of another Germanic language.

The upshot is that a guy from Saskatchewan can get off a plane and start engaging European political institutions with greater ease than the vast majority of European citizens. Of course, it also helps to speak French, which is still a secondary language at European Union events.

Beer at the Grocery Store

For fear of this blog being re-titled “Swimming with Weir,” which does not rhyme, I am posting about beer. I went to the supermarket today and, among other groceries, picked up some individual beer bottles to try out different types.

Stella Artois is a good example because it is widely available in other countries. A Stella cost me all of 0.4 Euros (about 56 Canadian cents). I also had to pay a bottle deposit of 0.1 Euros, but as with all Belgian merchandise, the sales tax was included in the sticker price.

Cheap Suburban Swimming

The Flemish university pool has worked out well for weekday evenings. But since it closes on weekends, I set out today to procure the bathing cap needed to swim in Francophone pools.

I took the subway almost to end of the line to Decathlon, a French sporting-goods store. Sure enough, it was selling fairly comfortable bathing caps for 3 Euros, one-third the price charged by L’Espadon pool.

I then went swimming at CERIA, a vocational college near Decathlon. The admission fee was only 2 Euros, versus the 3+ Euros at other public pools. Whereas L’Espadon and the Flemish pool have both been busy, I had a whole lane to myself at CERIA.

After swimming, I had a pizza at a restaurant near CERIA. I find that ordering one of the options with more toppings leads to something as substantial as North American pizza with the arguably better quality of European pizza. (For western Canadian readers, it is still not as substantial as Vern’s Pizza.)

When the waiter found out that I am Canadian, he mentioned that a Canadian is on “Secret Story” (France’s answer to “Big Brother”) but that her French is pretty strange. I explained that her French sounds strange (to European ears) because she is from Quebec. My French is strange for entirely different reasons.

Swimming with the Flemish

This evening, I checked out the Flemish university pool. As promised, there was no funny dress code and I was allowed to wear my trunks. I am also pleased to report that, like every other pool in the world that does not mandate bathing caps, this one has not turned into a giant hairball.

I have no strong feelings about Flemish secession from Belgium. But I could get behind a campaign for equal public funding of Flemish and Francophone pools in Brussels.

Strange Belgian Swimwear

I went to a public pool this afternoon and was quickly reprimanded for wearing swimming trunks. Apparently, the francophone pools require speedos.

I found this rule especially bizarre given that the lifeguard uniform consists of a T-shirt and shorts. When I pointed out that the lifeguard who got on my case for wearing shorts was himself wearing shorts, he assured me that he would remove them and wear only his speedo if he needed to go in the water.

The stated rationale was that trunks are unhygienic because people might not clean them properly before entering the pool. The lifeguards seemed unconvinced when I suggested that people might also fail to clean their speedos.

The only saving grace was that the swimming pool sold permissible swimsuits for a price that was not totally unreasonable. But as soon as I returned in my new “swimming briefs,” a second lifeguard informed me that I had to wear a bathing cap.

I tore a strip off him about why the first lifeguard had not mentioned this equally eccentric requirement. The first lifeguard then came by and lent me a bathing cap.

Anyway, it turns out that this webpage is spot on. Anything goes at the Flemish-run pool at Vrije Universiteit Brussel.

However, the first francophone lifeguard regaled me with stories about how the Flemish pool is full of hair due to the absence of bathing caps. In any case, it is closed on weekends.

Strange dress requirements aside, the francophone pool was a very nice facility and I had a great swim. I was also pleased that my French was good enough to deliver some compelling criticism and mockery of the dress requirements but get back on friendly terms with the lifeguards after doing so.