After I arrived in Antwerp, located in the Flemish (or Belgian Dutch-speaking) region of Belgium known as Flanders, and moved into our new apartment, I was told via the immigrant grapevine to go to
Atlas.
What is Atlas?
Atlas is the local government-affiliated, government-subsidized
assimilation integration office.
The right-wing government of Antwerp is not necessarily anti-immigration, but it is decidedly pro-integration. Any non-European moving into the area for any reason must first take a minimum of Dutch classes and then sit through a six-week integration course, offered in any one of four to five languages, to learn how to live like a local in Antwerp. If you are European, you aren't required to do this, but it is strongly recommended.
Better yet, it is government-subsidized, so why not?
Yes, that's correct. Right-wing in Antwerp means
the government helps you integrate, providing you with affordable local language courses and support in understanding where to go for what in Antwerp. (This also, by the way, provides local Antwerpians - Antwerpois? - jobs.) Take note, USA, this saves everyone a lot of frustration and misunderstanding (and, you know, creates real jobs.)
The Atlas website
The Atlas website, where my journey began, is in six languages: the official Belgian languages of French and Dutch (also called "Nederlands" and locally called "Flemish"), English, Spanish, Polish and Arabic. I assume this reflects the local source of immigrants and migrants for Antwerp.
Notably, the site skips German, the third official language of Belgium, but that's pretty normal. The German-speaking Belgians make do with English (Belgium's
unofficial lingua franca), Dutch, or French, all of which they usually speak given few other linguistic groups bother to learn German.
The
Atlas site is very clean and focused on answering immediate questions that a newcomer might have. Questions like, how do I integrate? Where do I find Dutch classes? Where can I find services for my children?
The goal of the Atlas site is to set you up with an in-person appointment at the Atlas offices in central Antwerp. All inquiries and emails get a response within three days in the language in which they submitted the question.
All responses aim to set up a live meeting between the newcomer and his or her case worker within three to four weeks. (Yes, I have my own case worker!)
I submitted two questions via the Atlas contact form: one, where to enroll children in school, and two, where to find Dutch classes.
The very next day an Atlas case worker responded to me concerning my child, offering to help me find a spot in a local school by the following Monday. Antwerp realizes that if the city successfully integrates the child, the parents must follow.
For my inquiry about learning Dutch, I got an email response two days later that proposed a specific meeting time and included directions via
Google Maps to the Atlas office. The email asked me to email or phone immediately if I needed to reschedule.
My in-person visit to Atlas
Floor to ceiling windows front the Atlas building in central Antwerp. Inside, the space hosts a split-level open-office floor plan that is cheerful and busy with the air of a well-funded start-up. The artwork on the walls and scattered around on shelves and desks as well as the Atlas employees themselves are the most culturally-sensitive advertisement for diversity that I have ever experienced.
To be honest, this didn't surprise me. Antwerp and its citizens celebrate the city's heterogenous population in all of the city's posters, private advertisements and public events. I get it, Antwerp, it takes a rainbow.
A greeter grinned and said hello to me in several languages and I picked the one I liked best (English).
He then directed me in English to the receptionist desk where I gave my name and used my phone to show her the email scheduling my appointment. The receptionist phoned the person I was to meet, and I went up the stairs to a large waiting room, complete with a small play area for children.
After barely two minutes - I didn't finish the first page of my novel - my initial case worker called out my name from the doorway at the back of the room. She led me to the next room full of small, inter-connected desks with low walls between them to allow for one-to-one conversation between you and your case-worker. Conversation hummed all around and there was a whir of printers and copiers as documents were printed, replicated, and exchanged.
My case worker had a ready smile and a small, slightly messy desk. She spoke five languages and her English was perfect. She walked me through the process detailed in the earlier email: I needed to sign up for Dutch lessons and then go through a six-week integration course. She would help me with both. Now.
She pulled up all available Dutch classes on her computer and, after asking my preferences (how many classes a week could I do? Morning or afternoon? Did I have a fixed work schedule? What vacations did I plan to take in the near future? Where did I live? There were a number of options for language courses within walking distance - did I have a preferred language school?), she signed me up for the next available slot that worked for me. She made a few phone calls while typing up my information, fluidly switching from English to Dutch to French, and chatting a bit in Arabic, then Spanish with another worker behind her at one point.
I paid my subsidized course fee (60 euros for three months of Dutch, 12 hours of class a week. That is about 41 cents per hour of Dutch class.) My case worker explained that if I missed too many classes, I'd be required to take the courses again.
My case worker also took down my professional and educational background to help place me in an integration class and set up a portfolio for a job-search or, she noted, an application for Belgian citizenship down the line. Her questions were varied: what degrees did I have from where? Did I have documentation of these degrees? What languages did I speak well, reasonably well, and poorly? What were my past occupations and what jobs, if any, were I considering in Belgium? Where had I lived and worked in the past? Was there anything else that I thought might be useful to include?
To help understand how I thought (remember, Antwerp has accepted and continues to accept a lot of refugees who may or may not recognize the Roman alphabet or the Western way of thinking), she gave me a wordless logic test.
I'll now mention my case worker, fluent in five languages and obviously university-educated and well-travelled, wore a full, black hijab revealing only her face. She and I chatted amicably about our past travels while we waited for some documents to print, and she said that she liked working at Atlas because her personal style choices were not a problem. "I was born and raised here," she explained, "but people sometimes still compliment me on my Flemish. I know they mean well, but here, no one questions my nationality. We are all from Belgium, and most of us are from Antwerp. It's understood."
I collected my brochures on education in Antwerp, translated into English, and my certificate reserving my spot in Dutch class and left. The whole visit took about 25 minutes.
