My political diary 2024-03-08

March 08

I am writing on my way to the Brussels rally for women's rights. It's Friday. Some minutes ago I saw the message that the venue in Antwerp and the catering for next week Saturday are finally confirmed. This time I will not have to organise coffee and coffee machines, since all is included in the the service package. I wonder what the program of the GA will look like to make it interesting for the public and - more important - for the press.

Last night, I joined the Volt support squad during a debate about European politics in Kortrijk. Sophie was part of the panel. However, the moderator seemed unsure where to position Volt. Eventually, Volt was placed in the far-right corner on the podium, contrary to the left-to-right sorting of all other parties. It irks me that people tend to associate Sophie and her political background with Volt being a left-liberal party. In reality, the Volt members who contributed to crafting our program define it as a party positioned in the centre.

The whole week was very busy.

On Sunday, Richard and I had a small photo shoot in Leuven. Note for next time: Talk about your dress code upfront to the shooting! Richard's light blue-orange chequered shirt and my purple clothing did not match. We bravely smiled for the camera, posed with statues, and dressed up a naked Europa in Volt gear.

When I viewed the pictures on the computer, I realized that in some of them, a door handle was growing out of my head. In others, I noticed that the chewed-up dog bones, which my Dachshund joyfully placed in my lap earlier, had left milky white slobber stains on both thighs of my black jeans, and that I had once again managed to dribble toothpaste onto my burgundy pullover. Thank goodness for Photoshop nowadays.

In the afternoon, I wanted to contemplate my speech for March 14th when we received an emergency call that a friend had buried his car up to the mud layer in a Belgian field, and our collective man- and woman power, along with all the horsepower of our Punto, was needed for the rescue. When we returned home a few hours later, I didn't have the energy to write or update my diary. I was simply drained.

On Monday evening, Damian Boeselager gave a lecture at Bozar, in Brussels. I must admit, I skipped it. I still didn’t meet our Volt co-founder & MEP in person even if he might have been around on the GA in Paris.

On Tuesday we had a fundamental debate because Volt BE needs to decide whether, besides the option of collecting citizens signatures, we should also activate Plan B and ask incumbent parliamentarians for their support. (To be on the safe site and to prevent unpleasant surprises with the online system of the government collecting the signatures of our supporters.) We only need two for the Belgian parliaments and five each for the European Parliament. While some of us see this very pragmatically, others are afraid that it would politically obligate us or cast us in an undesirable light. Ultimately, we agreed that guidelines should be available next Monday on how we can/should contact the political colleagues in the parament. It seems that in some other candidate teams, things got pretty heated over this issue.

On Wednesday, the Leuven team distributed additional flyers in the city centre. I coordinated with Richard regarding the upcoming stages of the campaign for the regional election and conducted a handover before he departed for a week-long vacation. Additionally, I squeezed in time to get photos taken for my new Belgian identity card. Requesting my ID on Friday, I was faced with the choice between images where I resembled a bulldog (the photos which were taken in October for my residence permit identity card) and ones where I appeared as a bizarre blend of Derrick and Winston Churchill.

10th of March

As I type this, I'm realizing that the weekend is almost over. Yesterday afternoon, I spent time distributing flyers to shoppers in Leuven. However, afterward, I hobbled home due to a knee injury I sustained a few weeks ago while attempting to participate in sports again. I had ignored this circumstance before attending the Women’s March in Brussels on Friday. We walked from Brussels Central Station to the Palace of Justice and back again. The amount of people was impressive.

To unwind on Sunday (if you could call it that), I tackled garden cleaning post-winter. I also made a lengthy list of items that need replacing, such as the plank on our small wooden terrace, which succumbed to my weight, hungry bacteria, and humidity. Additionally, I sorted through the contents of our 'lonely socks box,' attempting to match nearly fitting pairs. I suppose another weekend wouldn't go amiss right about now.