Souvenirs, artefacts or simple objects from Belgian Congo, stashed in trunks and suitcases by my grandparents and my mother on returning from Africa.
Buried under layers of dust, lace and velvet, something glints briefly. A gilded ceramic cup, with Cyrillic script, a double-headed eagle, angular motif, and a tantalising date, 1896. It’s Nicholas the Second’s Coronation Cup. Also called Khodynka Cup of Sorrows. Or the Blood Cup. A memento of a society broken and cast...
Social media does often gives you a sense of inadequacy. Hair falls like this, bodies look like that, the soufflé always rises and stays up. And, of course, when they clear their basement, “they” find the missing Rembrandt hidden in a crate, forgotten for centuries, just waiting to be found....
To my utter surprise, the small piece “What drove pith helmets extinct” has generated quite the reaction. It means that pith helmets are still lurking in our collective mind. To this day, they remain bipolar symbols of adventure/oppression and discovery/exploitation. Let me take you through the 4 examples I own. If you...
Katanga remains a primeval mystery to me. Oh, you can set foot there, travel through it, and yet the depth of its reality never ceases to fascinate me. Tucked in a wallet, neatly folded in equal squares was an intriguing shape, with words and sentences. A good luck charm. A...
For my entire life, until 5 years ago, pith helmets were just colonial helmets to me. At least, until I needed one to round off a fetching steampunk outfit for a Comic-Con. Afterall, a pith helmet remains the purest evocation. Adventure. Exploration. Discovery. Just stick one of them on any...
Did you ever find out that your house was shielded from evil spirits by an ancient spell? I know, right! By now, I should not be surprised anymore by the underlying sub-plot of mystical, spiritualist beliefs I keep stumbling on in photos, texts, mementoes. Like pictures of ancestors where all the eyes...
Whomever has been expat or away from home during the Christmas period, knows that very mixed feeling of longing for home, family and hearth, but also at the same time a bit relieved that you will not have to undergo all of the mandatory year-end socials. Today, planes are full,...
The metal staircase to our oldest basement in the South of France corkscrews down into rubble. The room collapsed at some disputed time for some disputed reason. But before it collapsed, it was the grandfather personal storage for “good wines”. We have some Burgundian ancestry, so it must have been...
Part 2 – The part of me that is Africa I have always lived in Africa. I realise I never truly left it because it is woven in my own narrative since I am born. But it is not a geography. Africa is a founding family myth. To understand how...
August 16, 2024
My Heritage | Travel Trunks and Suitcases
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August 9, 2024
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From Ghent to Likasi, the Heart of Darkness
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November 15, 2024
WWI in Soissons, Henri Penotet and the Big Bomb
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My Heritage | The Story Starts with Africa
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