Belgians reached for candles, chalk and beer for comfort, holding a minute's silence at noon on Wednesday at a makeshift shrine to the victims of Tuesday's Brussels attacks.
After an all-night vigil at the Place de la Bourse, the historic stock market square, Belgium came to a stand still at noon.
Among the crowd was Ballymun native Lisa Gavillet, who arrived in Brussels with her son on Monday.
They contemplated heading home again, but then decided to stay , cancelling a trip to Bruges to “show Irish support” at the Place de la Bourse.
“You can feel the devestation people are feeling, but I am taken aback at their composure, there’s no hysteria,” said Ms Gavillet, who now lives in Kells, Co Meath. “We feel calm because of their dignity, even the police are polite despite the pressure.”
Beneath her feet, the pavemenet was a multicolour patchwork of chalk, with messages of anger and fear competing with professions of love and hope.
This is a multi-cultural city that is licking its wounds, pondering its ethnic divisions in a quiet moment of unity.
One chalked message read: “Together we stand, divided we fall.” Another: “La Vie est Belge.”
For people perched on the old stock market building steps, overlooking the square, anger outweighed fear. There was anger at the attackers, anger at the wider Islamic State terror movement and anger at European authorities unable to unite to share intelligence and thwart such tragedies.
“I am not scared, I am angry but hope governments unite that things get bettter prevent these things in the future,” said Sylvie (23) grasping a stick of chalk. For her, the spontaneous gatering and the messages were a “nice gesture to show it is possible to live together in Brussels”.
On Tuesday evening, European Commission president Jean-Claude Juncker embraced the Belgian prime minsiter Charles Michel in a show of solidarity.
As evening became morning, police maintained a tight presence on the square. Not everyone here shared the mood of sombre calm.
A gang of young people held court at the top of the steps, drinking beer and mocking what one of them called the media “circus” below: what at times looked like a 1:1 ratio between journalists and locals.
Around the corner, as Belgium readied itself for three days of mourning, happy hour continued until late into the night at one of the local gay bars. As customers slipped in, the music streamed out, the motto: "Keeping Playing Cher and Carry On. "
Twelve hours later, as the crowd began to disperse after the minute’s silence, a woman hunkered down on the street wiped back tears as she made a makeshift sign: “We all need peace and love, no hate, please stop.”
