Brussels and Tel Aviv - two different dimensions of time

I have just returned from a five-days visit in Brussels at my father's. Since my family is scattered over several countries in central Europe, we usually gather at one particular point, to save time; it so happened that I hadn't been in Brussels (Bruxelles, in French and in "Wallon", the Belgian French dialect) in almost 10 years. I found the city very much changed; i remembered from my last visit that the center of the city was filled with quite annoying construction sites. now the city has been revamped and looks like a modern metropolis, with a character of its own. My father has been living for the last ten years in the rather central neighborhood of Ixelles (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ixelles), which has a very mixed population of rather low income citizens and immigrants, as well as wealthy bourgeois living in splendid 19th century villas and majestic neoclassical pavilions - no need to mention that Israel has none of these, certainly not in Tel Aviv - although Tel Aviv has beautiful houses and residential areas of its own.

On the last day of my visit, after the big family gathering had come to its end, we had a small and quiet walk through the streets of Ixelles and walked into the "parc de l'abbaye de la Cambre", along some of the numerous Ixelles ponds (in French: "les étangs d'Ixelles": see Abbey of La Cambre).

 

When we reached the actual buildings, all refurbished and surrounded by endless lawns with a perfect green color and looking like a carpet, I was struck by the atmosphere of profound serenity which emanated from this place. The weather was in part the cause of the bucolic image: it was late afternoon, a sunny day, rather warm (23 C Celsius), the so called 'golden hour' when the sun is already a bit low, but still shining and warming. The fresh green lawns were scattered with all kind of people quietly sitting: mothers with their babies or toddlers, groups of young people chatting merrily, here and there a man or a woman sitting alone with a book and all sunken in their readings. We walked for a while through the park until we eventually sat down on the lawn on one of those funny slopes with neatly clipped trees overlooking the building of the former Cistercian convent.

While sitting there, just looking around, I felt captivated by the calmness and by the serenity of all the people around us: several young men and women were gathered a few meters away from us, sitting around a young man playing and endless and rhythmic music on an acoustic guitar - it was a mere pleasure just to be there and listen. next to us sat another young man surround

ed by two young women, while reading. The woman sitting on our side got up and stood up on her hands while making all sorts of  balancing acts and splits with her legs, for about ten minutes, which seemed endless to me. The young man kept reading. After a while he joined her in her exercises, obviously giving her a few technical comments about her acrobatic exercises. And yet it all happened quietly.

The sun was going down - to me, who lives in Israel, it seemed like an endless time, because, while in Europe the sun seems to take several hours to go down, sundown in Israel is a matter of minutes.

It occurred to me that after living more than 30 years in Israel, I had completely forgotten this kind of feeling where everybody seems to have plenty of time: mothers walk leisurely with their babies, young people chat with the same lightness as birds in the park, people take the time to spend an hour or two reading calmly a book.

In Tel Aviv, life is a never ending rush: even in the Hayarkon Park (http://www.tel-aviv-insider.com/park-hayarkon.php) nearby my new neighborhood, most people obviously come there to rush on their bicycle or jog, or exercise or walk their dog - but everyone is only just PASSING by. I never have feeling of having plenty of time, nor do passers-by seem to have plenty of time: they just came back from work and have to do their evening jogging, or walk the dog out; even the old people in wheel chairs who are being pushed by their Thai nurse or caretaker, and the children on their way home from their scouts gathering or music lesson lack this expression of leisure.

Life in Tel Aviv is full of options and places to have a good time - but time is always limited: perhaps because when people finish school, in Israel, they usually must go to the army for 2 or 3 years; then they usually have to earn money for their trip to Asia or South-Africa; then they start studying, usually while also working. Until the age of about 45, men have to do reserve army duty at least 4 weeks a year, whether they are students or working, married or not, with or without children - they may be sent to do rather unpleasant work, be it border guard duty or training in the desert. But this is only one among any other reasons time is going by at a much faster pace in Tel Aviv, like sundown - or so it seems to me, at least.
It was very refreshing to be reminded of this other dimension of time in Brussels.