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Diabolic Digest
Down in the District
Khaled
Diab gives up Brussels for an unusual holiday destination – Washington. He
returns with some capital ideas about what the District is all about.
December 2003
Temporarily exchanging Brussels – the official
capital of Belgium and the unofficial capital of Europe – for Washington – the
official capital of America and the unofficial capital of the ‘free world’, the
first thing I noticed was the shift in scale. Not only did the roads broaden to
accommodate the convoys of SUVs and civilianised Hummers, but the whole city
seemed to be hung on a grander scale. If Brussels is a manifestation of slow
and gradual evolution, Washington is an expression of conscious design – you
could say it was built to rule.
Coming from down-to-earth Brussels, which
identifies itself cockily and self-effacingly with the miniature statue of a pissing
boy, one is struck by the profusion of grand icons in Washington. Long avenues
and boulevards, imposing official buildings, grandiose monuments, symbols of
power and miles of marble dominate the landscape – even street names and signs
are iconic.
Washington has a similar population to
Brussels, but a fondness for big houses and gardens makes the city appear
larger as it sprawls into the distance. However, unlike the popular image of
American cities, the Washington skyline does not reach for the heavens and the
city is surprisingly green – but it is not the Big Apple.
Untold millions around the world feel this
powerhouse’s influence, but Washington has never been on my ‘must see’ list and
it was only the fact that my wife was doing an internship at an NGO based in
the city that drew me there. Despite my curiosity, being an Arab has actually
made me shy away in recent years from wanting to visit anywhere in the country.
This has partly been out of a suspicion of the
length of time it would take to get a visa and the draconian official welcome I
might expect. And, sure enough, I had to wait three weeks in Brussels for a
special security clearance to arrive from Washington and at Dulles
International Airport I was detained in the not-so-VIP lounge for an interview,
and to be photographed and fingerprinted. Despite this unpromising start to my
holiday, I had a fascinating and enjoyable time in Washington.
Monumental moments
For the first couple of days after I’d crossed
the Atlantic, Washington seemed vaguely unreal, simultaneously foreign and
familiar – and the sensation was only partially related to jetlag. Having grown
up with American pop culture, yet never having savoured the real McCoy, it felt
as though I’d walked onto a larger-than-life film set that looked a little
rougher round the edges and shabbier than on the silver screen.
But this ‘behind-the-scenes’ look casts new
light on details that are lost on screen. One such incident was a certain
encounter with a squirrel who interrupted its frenzied search to munch on the
large nut it had uncovered. We exchanged glances in faint bewilderment. My
dismay was not provoked by the sight of the squirrel in itself – the city is
absolutely teeming with them – nor anything particularly unsquirrely about the
tiny creature’s behaviour. It was just that its secret stash of food just
happened to be located on the White House lawn.
Perhaps it was the revelation that the White
House was also just a ‘house’ and not only the nerve centre of the world’s
hyperpower that seemed weird. The sight of this squirrel going about its
business oblivious to the fact that it was trespassing on arguably the world’s
most powerful piece of real estate intrigued me. I was perhaps half expecting –
with the tight security curtain enveloping the White House – that even this
harmless little creature would have to carry a badge with his retinal print on
it.
My wife, who had been in the city for much
longer and whose office is two blocks away from the Bush residence, had seen
the more familiar side of the White House. She’d witnessed Dubya arriving at
the office (home?) in a storm of three choppers and decoy limousines.
A visitor to the city can spend
weeks just taking in the monuments and visiting museums – which are mostly free
and range from the amusing (for a history chauvinist from Egypt like myself)
American History Museum to the sobering Holocaust Museum. The city has an eccentric 19th
Century English scientist named James Smithson’s fortune to thank for many of
its fine museums.
Washington’s grandeur contrasts with low-key
Brussels, which also has some imposing and beautiful architecture but this is
often lost in the hodgepodge randomness of its layout. Its deliberate splendour
bears a passing resemblance to Paris – which is perhaps not surprising since
the city’s master plan was designed by a Frenchman called d’Enfant who died a
pauper due to his obsessive desire to hew the area’s rough wilderness into what
he could regard as a fitting capital for a rising world power.
Rock and film stars are not America’s only
modern idols, its leaders and soldiers are so revered that their ‘glory’ is
expressed in marble and stone edifices and their praises sung in
pseudo-religious terms. The towering Washington Monument, the Capitol, the
titanic Lincoln and Jefferson memorials, as well as the various war memorials:
Vietnam, Korea, WWI etc.
The Lincoln Memorial is referred to as a
‘temple’ and Arlington Cemetery – where most of the country’s soldiers and some
public icons, such as JFK, are buried – is described as ‘hallowed land’. The
giant star-spangled banners hanging in stations, shopping malls and on official
buildings sometimes evoked chilling associations. Long sceptical of authority,
I found Washington’s conscious grandeur and shows of loud patriotism got a bit
taxing, and its glorifying of battle was a little hard to stomach for someone
who’d walked in various anti-war demonstrations.
Nevertheless, there is a narrative and symbolism
designed to appeal to the spirit and heart that is often absent from the
uninspiring and distant image of the EU. Brussels may have the eye-catching
European Parliament building, but how many Europeans would recognise it in a
photo? EU institutions often come off looking more like an exercise in
pragmatism and grey bureaucracy than an expression of high ideals. Perhaps it
wouldn’t hurt for Europe to become just a tad more symbolic and a tad less
intellectual.
Beauty and the beast
In addition to the splendour of its public
buildings, Washington has retained a good part of its striking natural beauty.
A stroll through the leafy suburbs in autumn – with the spectacular bursts of
colours raining down from the trees – is romantic and a feast for the eyes. Its
gardens, such as Dumbarton Oaks (where the UN was created), often mix modern
history with scenic beauty.
Nearby Georgetown – one of the oldest
settlements in the area – is quaint, particularly by American standards. It is
a popular spot for wealthy artists, writers and senators to live and hang out.
But there is another, grimmer face
to Washington which has rendered large sections of the city offbounds to its
more fearful and prosperous citizens for fear of getting caught in the
crossfire of gang shootings. Baghdad may be dangerous, but one in every hundred
or so of Washington’s black residents is likely to be shot sometime in their
life. Washington has several times the murder rate of New York and this
statistic resonates in the enormous security consciousness that pervades the
city. But this fear borders on the irrational and makes the city appear almost
strictly segregated. Although we got some friendly smiles and acknowledgements
while strolling through the black neighbourhoods, we were often the only white
and brown faces around.
Walking through some of the poorer – although
not the poorest – neighbourhoods in the south-east during the day, brought home
just how stark the divisions in wealth are. The white marble is replaced by a
notable increase in churches and liquor stores, and some building that wouldn’t
look out of place in a Third World slum. Poverty can be found everywhere, but
when it is so visible in the capital of the world’s richest country it feels
more shocking.
State-run schools – with their high fences,
security doors and signs marking out drug/gun free zones – look more like
prisons that educational institutions and some campaigners are now calling for
children to be taken under armed guard to school. However, stats need to be
taken in context. Even with its high murder rate, the chances of getting gunned
down are remote. Besides, gun crime will not be solved with more guns!
Grazing ground
Dupont Circle and the area around U Street
(where Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald once played) are also popular
destinations for restaurants and bars. People are friendly and will engage you
in casual banter wherever you go. Although one does come across the odd street
jazz band jamming in a square, or a hand flutist taking requests and pointing
you to his website, Washington is not really a ‘happening place’.
Chain restaurants, such as the Cheese Cake
Factory, and chain cafes, such as Starbuck’s, dominate the grazing scene.
Although they offer good, wholesome fare (and lots of it), it is a bit of a
production line affair. Unlike the restaurant scene in Brussels, which is a bit
like the UN of food, getting unusual fare in Washington can only be done at the
upper-end of the market. However, the city does have excellent Mexican and
Ethiopian restaurants.
Brussels-style café culture is hard to find in
Washington, which seems to prefer to consume its beverages on the move. It is
extremely difficult to find a place to sit down for a coffee where you will be
served in china cups rather than plastic ones. And, although service is very
friendly, bartenders tend to expect you to consume one beer after another in
rapid succession – heightened efficiency means better tips.
Getting about can be difficult if you don’t
have a car as the distances between places of interest can be quite significant
and the public transport network is not so extensive. Going out in Washington
is also considerably more expensive than Brussels, even with the favourable
Euro rate.
Although most people visiting Washington tend
to be connected to a job, it might be worth dropping in at least once in a
lifetime to get a behind-the-scenes view of the Hollywood of politics with its
good, bad and ugly.
The text, and not the photos, of this article first
appeared on Expatica on 12 December
2003. Photos are the copyright of Khaled Diab and Katleen Maes.
ã2004 K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website
is the copyright of Khaled Diab.