Short Story – Meakusma and the Town Criers

I’m in Brussels, sitting by the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula, where the bells ring out in symmetrical agony. I hear the news that the town criers of Eupen, who have locked themselves in churches, chapels, cathedrals, and an abandoned plaza across the town for a decade, will be reopening for one-off occasions in conjunction with the gathering called Meakusma. Known for eccentric sounds, patterns, and performances, the contrast between the two events is something to be witnessed, explored, and attempted to be understood.

The questions people have been asking about Meakusma are: Why are the town criers opening their churches and chapels after years of closing them off to the public? And where has the sound of the bells gone?

Day 1

The town, with its cobbled pavements, leads us to a field and a revitalized slaughterhouse, with the blood scrubbed off and tainted meat tossed out to decay. The town has a magical but eerie feel to it. Our initial interactions with the place are watched from the church spires that gleam through the trees, hills, and homes.

As I make my way into the town, the church bells have fallen silent, taken away and replaced through other means. Their first message is for us to discover and understand how to return them so that we can all live in harmony. As a new energy begins to sweep through the aged buildings and landscape, we are taken to the first proceedings amidst the silence and ancient patterns.

With the church bells silenced, their sounds begin to appear through other means throughout Meakusma. Chiming in and around the slaughterhouse, their sounds are clearly distorted and take on a new life outside the churches and chapels.

A found crochet instruction.
A lost voice in a room.
A dead beat later revived through a collision.
A sound indescribable.
A mess.

Do you see the patterns or just witness them?

Day 2

Following the stillness of dreams, silence settles in as we sit together listening—unraveling moments lost and people found. From afar, they observe our pattern of celebration.

The church bells shift their sound, signaling the start of a new adventure. Inviting us into their liminal spaces, sound emerges from everything.

Up the escalator.
Down the pipes.
Among the daydreamers.
God will tell us apart.

As the dust settles, we are reminded of their influence, with organs romantically screaming.
But what are they saying?

Are they questioning our solitude?
Our mortality?
Transcending cultures?
The influence of time and space?
The pattern of our dreams?

I am left wondering—what is it that the town criers are opposing? Why have they shut themselves off from these abstractions? Or are we the abstractions entering the quiet, “normal” town?

A small room becomes
A large space.

Tonight, the town criers invite us into their church, which they have held in protest for a decade. The event is called ‘Liquid and Gas.’ They open their doors for the first time since occupying the church—on the condition that we do not speak about what happens inside.
Don’t confess after confessing.
Don’t let liquid become gas.

We exit the church in serenity, but we keep our mouths shut. One riddle solved, but another question arises.

The bells mark each hour, but now, at odd times, they chime distinctively not from the church spirals—unexpectedly shifting movements and thoughts, sending their sounds through the slaughterhouse and surrounding buildings.
Each room beams with uniqueness—energies pulsating and swirling, gathering momentum that grasps us and suggests new perspectives.

Confined to more liminal spaces, the old bells ring into the brightness, and my dreams creep back. Traditional patterns and sounds return, twisted in dreams, evoking the feeling that the town hides something dark. The lights in my dreams fade into the sunrise—oranges, yellows, reds, and blues.

Day 3

Following the sunrise, we conversed about the world of Meaksuma and how exciting it has been to be welcomed into the churches after they’ve been locked away from the public for such a long time. The backdrop of silenced bells and the flurry of people halted. We took a moment to relish the unknown ahead.

Once a flourishing outlet for consumer fun, the now-abandoned shopping centre was said to be the setting where the town criers celebrated before the town’s odd demise. This brought forth a conjunction of noises, patterns, and emotions hosted in a degrading, dusty, and dark setting. We were taken through an intense procession that explored what becomes of places when they are no longer wanted by the powerful.

Our time in the plaza concluded with the chapel hosting our next experience. The town criers allowed us to discuss this experience—to share more moments in a place strangely locked away from the public, to help unravel the mysteries of the town. With knowledge of celebration in the plaza and the forbidden talk about the church, the chapel held a solemn time to ponder our lives and take our minds through the lush and confronting settings of the cartoonish interior.

Life’s mysteries and Eupen’s unnerving past were coming together in the lush sun-filtered day. Having joined together in the town criers’ places, a story was beginning to filter through Meaksuma, revealing why they have locked themselves away for so long; that the people who run the town have a dark history. We were told to head to the theatre if we wanted to find out more.

Shhhhhh, don’t say a word. Be quiet. We will come after you if you speak. This place is not what you think it is. Do you want to live in purgatory?
A threat?
The mayor and his party aligned show us the darker side of the town, the insect-eating insects that buzz about. Their deathly shadows grow older and older, showing us what we may become if word breaks out that they hold the town hostage. That we are not as welcome as we feel.

This is partly why the town criers hold themselves in the churches, chapels, and abandoned plazas, keeping themselves away from the decaying souls that roam the cobbled streets, blurring into roads leading through the greenery. They welcomed us here to share what they live with and how the town criers, by holding important places of the town, are fighting the powers that influence Eupen.

Down the alley with the popes,
The distorted and evil join.
Hidden amongst the dreamers,
God plays a part.

Day 4

Our reflections are tainted by our seriousness when we are reminded through talent and human interactions that we can be the ones to both prevent and create progress. En masse for Sunday mass in one of the smaller churches held by the town criers, we uncovered that humans are clumsy and that music can be humorous. The town criers now laugh-crying, guiding us to reflect on our chin-stroking, back-patting, and peddling interactions that initially hindered our ability to create progress for everyone. We saw how we are all connected to this town, how the darkness among it reflects the darkness in the world, and how the bells still chime even though they have been taken away.

When the last church closed its doors and our reflection shifted between humour and seriousness, our time at Meaksuma collectively made sense. Each of us at different stages of our lives, the town criers helped us reflect on the wider construct of their town and the elements affecting them and us. Amidst our enjoyment of eccentric sounds, patterns, and performances, we played a role in the town in various perceived manners. The veil of understanding shifted towards celebration as the gathering of Meaksuma began its final stage.

The celebrations were hard to end. News arrived that the bells would return in the morning, shared by the town criers who had stopped playing them to engage in understanding why they locked themselves away in the churches, chapels, and abandoned plazas. With anxiety that our celebrations might cause more conflict, some of us gathered in our last moments in the field before the sun rose and the bells chimed at 6 am.

As the church bells returned to the town’s churches, a feeling of connectedness rushed through. We were welcomed in the town by most, and as the town criers closed their doors, the insects returned with aging souls. We were reminded that our worlds are interlinked and that we must work together to ensure no one is swallowed by purgatory. Meaksuma must exist for all.

Across the field,
Follow your heart.
Live with the dreamers.
God plays no part.

Highlights

Meakusma is a special festival that offers something for every attendee. From soothing ambient, challenging and humorous performances, euphoric, heavy and indulgent IDM, techno and electro, industrial soundscapes, traditionally influenced music, to energetic jazz and makeshift sounds—the list goes on. With such a breadth of choice, each attendee will have a unique experience to cherish. Here are five performances that I particularly enjoyed.

Inês Malheiro
On Friday afternoon, with a grey sky clearing that was further brightened by Ines’ mesmerising voice, lush sounds, and unique performance brought a refreshing start to the weekend. As more people arrived at the festival, the room upstairs—surrounded by windows offering a 360-degree view—filled with silence as everyone sat or gathered attentively, captivated by her presence.

Carrier (Live) + Upsammy
It’s rare to experience an evening of world-class IDM, electro, and leftfield techno in a large space with high-quality sound and mesmerizing visuals. Upsammy and Carrier Live complemented each other perfectly, drawing me—and everyone else—into a three-hour session that felt immersive and unforgettable.

Melos Kapla
Hands in The Dark curated a transformative experience on Friday night, bringing together Melos Kapla who transported the church into another realm. Melos Kapla, a four-piece ensemble composed of Marta Salogni (tape machines), David Morris (electric guitar), Jem Doulton (percussion/marimba/vibraphone), and Agathe Max (violin), meticulously crafted their sounds, blending harmoniously. As people lined the pews and the church floor, they were serenaded by the performance, showcasing the festival’s brilliant use of unconventional spaces—churches, chapels, abandoned plazas, and other venues across Eupen.

Sans Âge
Using PVC pipes, air mattress blowers, percussive pieces, and violin, the duo enthralled the growing gathering in the plaza on the afternoon. Circled around the duo, they intensely showed that music can be made from anything with class, detail and enthusiasm.

Myriam Van Imschoot & Hyoid present Newpolyphonics
A performance that continues to haunt, mesmerise, and astound. Myriam Van Imschoot, joined by 16 local participants, used only the sounds produced by the human body—from subtle shushing created by pierced teeth and hands waving over mouths, to continuous buzzing imitating insects. Myriam’s classically trained vocals intertwined with these elements, embodying themes of tragedy, absurdity, mortality, agony, and the afterlife—all conveyed without a single spoken word. For those who witnessed it, the memory lingers.