The Language Belongs to the Ground — Epoche A2
Last month I crossed Belgium on a slow train, Antwerp to Liège, and the loudspeaker taught me more than the window. It began on the departure board in Antwerp. My city was not on it. The board said "Luik" — the Dutch name for Liège. In Flanders the railway speaks Dutch and writes Dutch, and nothing else. I made a list during the ride: Antwerp to Mechelen: "Volgende halte…" — Dutch only, on the platforms and from the conductor. Brussels: suddenly two names on every sign, Brussel-Noord and Bruxelles-Nord, and every announcement twice. Leuven, east of Brussels: Dutch again, alone. Then, somewhere in the fields, an invisible line. No river, no fence, no sign — but from the next station the loudspeaker spoke French, only French, and the Dutch was gone for the rest of the day. A student beside me explained the rule while the fields ran past. In Belgium the language belongs to the ground, not to the passenger: Dutch in Flanders, French in Wallonia, both in Brussels. The border between them is drawn by law, and public services change language exactly there. At Liège I looked up my train home. The board did not say Antwerpen; it said "Anvers". Same city, other ground. On the way back, all the stations returned wearing their other names.