[ By Jeroen Janssen in Doel, Belgium ] The nineteenth century convent has burned last
week, at night. The security services of the port of Antwerp have seen five Dutchmen running
away. But they could no identify anyone, neither note down a number
plate.
Not one inhabitant of Doel who
believes! How to get away unseen from this village with only one and a a
half, narrowed, entrance?
Iron barriers and a plastic police tape
close the entire Hooghuisstraat. I do not go behind. They told the barriers are placed for loose
asbestos particles would stick to one's shoes and clothing. A couple of disaster
tourists who have been breathing on my neck too long while I am
sketching, are going for a walk behind the fence. Just good for them, let them
starve to pleural cancer within twenty years.My mind says that whoever remains on
this side of the barricade, has an equal chance of dying from
asbestosis within ten years, as those who clamber over the the fence.
Still, I do not go over the red line.Sabine thinks the roof of the monastery
is not made of asbestos, but of shale. I think she's
right. So, why the firefighters wore protective clothing?
Probably more asbestos is scattered by
the youngsters who smash to pieces walls and roofs of empty houses.
Without insulating clothing.
