Brussels for Beginners: A Parent's Survival Guide for Moving

All I wished to know as a new parent moving to Belgium

A nightmarish AI rendition of happy families in Brussels

So you've moved to Belgium with your Dear Little One, or whatever we're calling them these days. Congratulations are in order! Have a beer! You've come to a very confusing place, but on the plus side, it's also an incredibly great country to have a kid in, because they've really thought out the amenities here. From free childcare to lots of great playgrounds and parks, Belgium is, in general, a great place to raise a kid. There's a reason for those high taxes, after all.

When I first moved to Brussels, it was overwhelming. Not least because we were two full-time working parents. Then on top of that, the commune insisted on you doing a whole bunch of other stuff to "make your time in Brussels easier". Which is Brusselaar for "make it more complicated". But with this handy guide, hopefully you can ease in better than I did.

Which Brussels school system to choose?

This is only the beginning of the confusion that is the Belgian school system, as both Flanders and Wallonia have their own, non-integrated systems, and Brussels is just a mismatched free-for-all.

We chose the French system, so I can only provide personal advice based on our experience with that system.

Whichever school system you choose is up to you. From what I understand, the French schools are more focused on out-dated educational systems and also have a lot more diversity since immigrants to Belgium are usually from French-speaking areas of the world, while the Flemish ones have more modern styles and theories in place, and since nobody speaks Dutch outside of people in Belgium, the Netherlands, and South Afrikaa, it's pretty white.

That said, with the French ones, they speak French, and the Flemish ones, your kids will grow up speaking Dutch. Whichever is better is up to you. If your career goals involve staying in Belgium, moving to Holland, or you want your kid to grow up and work in import/export, or related fields, then choosing the NL system would be beneficial. If maybe you think a French future in finance or manufacturing is for them, then maybe French. If your plan isn't to stick around Benelux or even this part of Europe, then probably French is more international.

That all is to say, there are pros and cons to each… We chose French because we're not going to be sticking around, so we want our kid to have the more international language. But I personally have nothing against Dutch other than it sounds like how Willy Wonka oompa loompas might speak if they were real, or perhaps like a drunk German trying to speak English with a Scottish accent.

I kid, I love Dutch.

But in all seriousness, this is a question that you'll have to answer at the very beginning of your childcare journey and your kid's education, since it literally impacts them for the rest of their years in Belgium.

Beginning with the crèche

The beginning of your little one's journey begins at a "creche", or nursery. They are all over the place. The state run creches are free for Belgian citizens for babies from 6-months of age, and I think there is a nominal fee for non-citizens. We chose a private crèche ourselves because reasons.

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How to find a crèche? We used Google maps and typed it in. Then dove into all the reviews. When we found one nearby with better reviews, we brought our little bossman there. He wreaked havoc, hating every minute. At 2, he was completely not prepared to be abandoned by mom and dad, especially after all the pampering during covidtimes he got.

The creche's policy was to have the parent there for an hour in the morning for a week, and then wean the kid off. First just staying for an hour and taking the kid home, transitioning to staying for an hour and leaving the kid, and then gradually building up to leaving the kid for longer periods of time. But since he was screeching every time I left, and they'd call me an hour later telling me to pick him up, that wasn't working. It got so bad that he'd just start shrieking when we got there. So obviously we had to change the place.

I found another crèche, Nos Bulbes, whose head madame, Grace, is absolutely brilliant with kids. Which is good because she has several of her own. But our guy immediately fit in with almost no trouble at all. Completely night and day. And she can handle a bit of crying, not resorting to calling the parents immediately. So, if you need a crèche in Etterbeek, there you go.

The crèche systems are pretty much year-round, with limited breaks. So you don't need to worry about figuring out what to do with your kids.

The Belgian school calendar

If you're an American coming to Belgium, be prepared for a world of confusion. But at least if you're a working parent, it isn't so bad.

There are two systems of schools in Belgium, one in Wallonia and one in Flanders. And in Brussels, the city gets both, depending on which system the school is in (the Dutch, often labeled "NL" or the French system). Just to be annoying, there was no attempt to line up the vacation days between the systems.

I've had a family where they have one set of kids going to a French school, and their cousins going to a Dutch school, and they never got to vacation together. But whatever, not like the kids could talk to each other.

Also at work, keep in mind scheduling: some parents need off some days, others on other days. And when you're working here, employers are even legally required to give a nod to parents first in regards to vacation time. So if your vacation time is holy and you prefer to vacation when it's popular for kids to go (also known in resort parlance as "peak season"), then get a kid. That'll make your life easier, believe me. But if you're single, then enjoy all the huge discounts at vacation resorts across the world and just take your leave off during peak season.

Flemish (NL) system:

Starts on September 1.

1 week off at the end of October/beginning of November

2 weeks off for Christmas/New Year

1 week off for Carnival (usually mid-February)

2 weeks off for Easter (April)

2 months off for Summer

Repeat

French system:

Starts on the last Monday of August

2 weeks holiday at the end of October

2 weeks holiday for Christmas/New Year

2 weeks off for Carnival (end of February)

2 weeks off for Spring (beginning of May)

Almost two months off for Summer

Repeat

And there's a German system on top of that, but you'll likely not live in that area unless you're commuting to work in Germany and want to pay higher taxes for whatever reason.

But do you see how those don't really line up at all?

And, of course, yet again on top of all that, the various international schools maintain their own schedules.

To find the up-to-date schedules, go here.

Beginning "real" school

The "real" school system starts with the maternelle at 3 years old. This is absolutely free for everyone, though if you want your kid to partake in after school activities, it'll cost a nominal fee for snacks.

Our kid loved his maternelle. He made friends, learned to count, and even started to write his name. I loved picking him up and seeing him chat away in French with his friends, despite me knowing very little of the language. Not because I hadn't tried, but because I'm an idiot. And also, that working full-time thing I mentioned.

At this age, your kid isn't yet required to go to school, and if you want to take them on off-season vacations, you're free to do so. But this changes at 3rd Maternelle, as attendance becomes mandatory, and parents need to submit doctor's notes for any absences. After 3rd Maternelle they graduate to "ecole primaire" (which is the American equivalent of elementary school).

Signing them up for maternelle

There are two ways about this. Most maternelles have an open period that typically begins in the February of the year. You can call them directly, or come in and talk to them (assuming your French/Dutch is good enough).

Otherwise, you need to sign up on https://irisbox.irisnet.be/, which is really what you should do first to get your kid into the system. The easiest way to be able to sign into Iris Box is to get an Itsme account, which you can only do if you have a Belgian bank account (which you can only get if you have a job based here (with a few exceptions).

If you don't have a Belgian bank account, there's still a couple of other ways to do it. All those options are through CSAM here. You'll want to create a security code either by email or app, but to do either you'll first need a login which you get at the commune. Write everything down legibly on cards because nobody speaks English there and it will be easy to have little cards to just show them what you want after your initial "Bonjour" and complete language brerakdown a la Brad Pitt in Inglourious Basterds.

Breaks

As I said, as a parent, you don't have to fear breaks. Except for the summer break, that one's a doozy.

For all the other breaks, each neighborhood and town has on offer "stages" and "pleines" (and the Dutch have their equivalent as well), and if your kid is in the system, it's super cheap. Then there are private places sprinkled throughout the quartiers that also offer stages and pleines to the general public, but usually cost between 100 and 200 euro.

Vato climbing at a playground in Brussels

The signups for these are generally one month before the actual break. Your child's school will send home a pamphlet with information about available activities and registration deadlines. If your kid doesn't show up with one, ask the school about it. For those in the city of Brussels proper, you can stay up-to-date here.

Stages

"Stages" are what we would call "camps". They are usually more activity/learning-oriented, and can range from teaching your kid about music, maths, sports, or even going on a ski trip. These may or may not cover all day, so for those with younger kids, that's especially important to keep in mind.

Pleines

"Pleine de jeux" is Belgian French for "playground". So a "pleine" can be understood as "play day". It's more about just keeping the kids active throughout the day. Something akin to an all day long "garderie".

After school care

If your kid is going to maternelle, and you work all day during the week, then likely all you need is to arrange the "garderie" with their school. That is merely a form of unstructured free time for your child to play with other kids while under the supervision of school staff until you can pick them up.

As they get older, especially after 6 years of age, you'll find more and more options opening up (this goes for stages as well as extracurricular activities). But unlike with American schools, where everything happens all at once right at their school, you might have to do some digging throughout your neighborhood or town to find the different activities that might interest your kid. So in some ways, I miss that one-shop-stop for your kids that our US schools are, but on the other hand, there aren't any active shooter drills here in Belgium, and they aren't remotely necessary. So it's like a trade off.

Jogging the streets in Brussels 20k

A lot of Brusselaar are absolutely mad about jogging.

I live across from the Cinquantenaire. I see joggers out in every weather: snowing, hot, raining, and so on. Well, mostly when it’s raining, because Brussels. And I imagine, if you’re going to take up a hobby like jogging in Brussels, you pretty much have to commit doing it even in the rain.

But the most absurd thing I’ve seen is how they’ll jog even through veritable war zones. During the covid protests, as I mentioned before, while the police were hosing down molotov-cocktail-wielding protestors, and a general melee was on-going, led by racing police on horseback wielding-batons, through a general haze of tear gas... there were still people jogging. You’ve got to be pretty effing determined to keep up the habit through that.

I imagine once we’re a nuclear wasteland after World War III, people will still be out jogging, wearing their cell phones on their arms with special Geiger counter apps reading the radiation, with stronger vibrations as it begins to detect increasingly fatal levels.

Saturday morning blues

Anyways, what brings up this rant?

I woke up with a slight hanger, which is of course, fairly typical on a Saturday morning. Especially one where the night before I was enjoying a free jazz festival in the old town (Europe’s largest free one). Maybe another blurb on that later. I’m quite used to rising early—not because I prefer it, but because my four-year-old likes to stick his head in my face and whisper, “Can I watch tv? I won’t watch it too loud.” To which I mutter, “Yeah, okay” and attempt to continue sleeping, even though in Brussels during summer 7:00 is already sun’s up. I just wish he didn’t feel the need to ask and just do it, so that I might actually be able to sleep a bit more…

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But anyway, there were a bunch of bullhorns, loud music, and all that (not) jazz. I stepped out on my balcony armed with my coffee and looked out. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of joggers. And apparently no clear way to exit our apartment.

Well, whatever, good on them for keeping up that healthy lifestyle. And for many, I guess hitting the yearly 20K is quite an accomplishment. So well done joggers, congrats.

The Brussels 20K

I imagine as a jogger—and if I didn’t live across from the Cinquantenaire—the Brussels 20K would be a pretty iconic race. Imagine heading out of the park, winding through the densely lined streets of the city, and ending on an approach with the Triumphal Arches marking the end. I guess you’d feel pretty triumphant, especially if that were your first 20K run (or walk, if you prefer).

Runners waiting to begin

And if you’re interested in the run, then sign up for the next year one here.

The route is pretty epic. It starts at the Cinq, goes into Sablon, one of the oldest bougie neighborhoods of the city, doing Avenue Louise which is one of three avenues described as “Brussels Champs Elysee”, known for its high-end shopping and hookers, in Bois de la Cambre (here and the Cinq are arguably the two favorite places for joggers), the freshest air park of the city, over along a forested boulevard that’s a bit out of town, through Parc Woluwe, past the most beautiful un-lived in house in the city (Stoclet Palace), and on towards the Triumphal Arches. And if you manage to finish all that, you get a free banana at the end!

The race started in 1980 and has been going every year since, except for the dark covid year of 2020. Last year, over 40,000 people took part, including The Queen of Belgium and a Prince.  

The finishing festival

Ending the jogging festival area

This year, there were 48,723 joggers who arrived at the Cinquantenaire to a bundle of festivities. There’s the banana, for one. And then a few rows of tents with hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, and a folk band from Indonesia. So that’s cool.

The art of le pee in Belgium

The American bathroom situation is a joke to much of the world.

I went down to a local in Ixelles the other night, an alternative-style place called L’Athnee, which has an interior that looks like it was a barely rehabilitated squat (not squat beer prices though!). The place was unsurprisingly packed, given it was Saturday night and next to a fairly popular nightlife area.

When I went down to the toilet downstairs—because toilets here are always on the other floor—and I immediately remembered the trans toilet debate. As I remember every time I head off to the splash studio.

Brussels has a very weird situation about bathrooms in that they’re very much an afterthought. They’re usually clean and hygienic, don’t get me wrong, but they’re often with very odd setups that would never fly in the US. Mainly it seems the theme is, “We’re all adults here, just piss.” Whereas in the US, people would absolutely freak.

For example…

• One urinal wasn’t even in the café… or the bathroom. It was in a hall under the stairs, and offices or residences are upstairs. So you stand there to pee, look to the left and watch the people come in and go up the stairs. 

• Another bar, men have to walk through the women’s toilet to get to the men’s.

• In a sushi restaurant, there’s a urinal right next to the shared sink. Like splashing distance next to it.

• Many places just use the same room, the same toilets. And people are expected to, again, be effing adults.

• There’s one outdoor urinal—or what they call for unknown reasons a “uritrottoir”—in the center that looks like a mailbox. And the side walls aren’t even high enough to block the view of your postage. At least, I hope that was a urinal, because if not…
  

• Most parks have a lot of areas with really thick undergrowth and lots of trees. Those are public toilets.

• And on top of all that nonsense, a lot of places will charge you for the toilet. Like, I understand a public toilet charging, because it’s basically a business. But a club charging for the toilet seems counterproductive. I left one club. Why would I drink there? I’d just drink less because I wouldn’t want to have to skip to the loo.

• Or worse, the cinema was charging for the bathroom the first time I went (they seem to have dropped that bladder criminality).

• Festival urinoirs. The “urinoir” is a somewhat concealed, prepared place to pee. They are usually at wherever there’s a long line of portapotties. By providing urinoirs, they free up the portapotties to the ladies who might need them. I actually love these things, because there’s something weirdly liberating about peeing out the open and having it be perfectly acceptable. These are different than “pissoirs” because pissoirs are permanent installations. And yes, these are actual French words.

• No public toilet? Pull out a euro and offer one to the nearest bar. They'll most likely let you head up/down the stairs. This is a general rule throughout Europe.

• McD's of course is a public pisserie just as it is in the US. But unlike in the US, the majority of the pissing is in the toilets and they charge.
  

BELGIUM AND PEE

Belgium has a strange relationship with pee. There is of course, the fact that the national hero is a pissing baby, and the overabundance of pissing statues, which includes said baby, a little squatting girl, and a dog.

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I've also got pictures there, so even if you're not in Brussels...

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Public peeing is pretty common, because of the pure lack of toilets in most public areas. It’s not France or the Netherlands, where France has FREE clean toilets in every park on nearly every corner, all of them with chemical showers to keep them clean, and the Netherlands has futuristic toilets that rise from the ground at the push of a button – if only they detected when you needed to pee (though to be fair, the Netherlands was forced to deal with this issue because of what the Dutch call, “wild peeing”, that is, drunk guys peeing into the canal and then falling in and drowning, which remarkably has a higher death rate than murders).

In Belgium, the capital of Europe, not so much. But that’s why businesses in Brussels have gotten together and formed a coalition of public toilets in Brussels. Many cafes and bars don’t mind it when you rush in in need of a pee. Maybe because their toilet is in the hallway anyway.

There’s a map here if you need it. And they identify themselves with the handy sticker next to what forms of payment they may or may not take.

Pee for free at this sign

THE AMERICAN ISSUE

For my non-American friends, there has been a neverending and incoherent debate about transgenders using the restroom and why apparently it should be everyone's business on which restroom they choose, because pedophiles are active in public restrooms and public toilets are also a place for children. The debate got so bad that people were even volunteering to "check" if a person was transgender or not. Yeah, I find a guy wanting to check for transgenders a bit more disturbing (and more likely to be a pedo), than a transgender. They even keep trying to pass laws on it.

And as much as the common conservative says, “I don’t care what your preference is, just keep it out of my face”—many transgenders are wanting to do just that. They want to use the toilet where they’re most comfortable. And when they do that, you most likely wouldn’t even know that, unless you’re sticking their preference into your face.

But it's election time, so we've got to make every g-damned thing a political issue. Which includes others' private affairs that I could care less about.

Just be adults, Americans. Use the toilet. Wash your hands. Get the fuck out. It’s not a hangout. The only people who should be standing around in the toilet are Instagram influencers. You don’t have to monitor pissers’ orientation. It’s ain’t your business, don’t make it your business.

And why are you so sure that a transgender is remotely interested in your fat little whiny Switch-bot pre-teen anyway? Trans doesn’t mean pedophile.

Nobody in Europe, at least as far as I know, is worried about pedophiles lurking in the public toilet, because pedophiles usually don’t strike in there. They’re more often striking at homes, churches, and other places where you’re supposed to be able to trust people. But anyway, if someone is lurking in the public toilet, does it matter if they’re trans? Just ban pedos from public toilets.