50 Degrees North, 4 Degrees East

Over Too Soon - The Last Tuesday

2008-02-10T21:20:00.000+01:00

The morning dawned early. Erfana dropped me off at the airport around 7:30 am. Many baggage problems later, I paid Lord knows how much more in oversized fees to get my painting checked (which was slightly damaged) and ended up carrying on luggage as well.

Thankfully I had THREE seats in a row to myself during the long flight back to the States. I survived and even got some sleep. I’ve had to give Sudokus a rest after doing so many on that flight.

When I landed in Atlanta and went through customs, etc. there was a young man who had been on my flight and was having difficulty with his baggage or something. I helped him somehow (I don’t even remember how) and we got to chatting. He was headed to Guadalajara, Mexico and also had a long layover.

I found my gate and realized that I didn’t know what to do for the next five hours so I went off in search of the international terminal. Sure enough, I took a chance and found that same guy (whose name I can’t remember). We grabbed some drinks and chatted all about our experiences and cultural differences.

He was headed back to Mexico, where he had lived for a short time, to see his friends again. With him was a photo album of his family, friends, and girlfriend that I got to see. It was the perfect way to spend the afternoon – practicing my Franglais.

After disembarking in Des Moines I walked down the flight of stairs to the waiting area to finally see my family! And … they weren’t there.

So, still depressed, I walked to the baggage claim where I found that my larger piece of luggage had been lost. While I was over at the claims desk my family came in. Kyle proceeded to tease me which he quickly found out was NOT a good thing to do – all things considered (like lack of sleep for 24 hours and not wanting to leave Europe).

On the way back to Ames I regaled my last horrific but hilarious 72 hours and then slept, slept, slept.

The Last Monday

2008-02-10T21:14:00.002+01:00

After having spent the previous night doing one of my absolutely, most hated things - packing to go overseas – I had to say my goodbyes to Nicole and Oceane. What a sad day! That family took me into their home and their lives. They taught me both directly and indirectly but gave me the space and encouragement necessary to branch out. They hold a very special place in my life. I cannot wait until they come to America! (Hint, hint.)

And it got worse.

It was followed by the longest commute Paul and I ever took – 2.5 hours into Brussels. I was supposed to meet a painter at the metro stop near Erfana’s house at a certain time. I had to call to reschedule for later, thinking I would have plenty of time but barely making it.

I lugged my suitcase (and other bags and things because I had way too much stuff) through more public transit and met the painter at the metro stop. Turns out he was on my same train the whole time. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time (as previously planned) to take my stuff to Erfana’s – so I invited Elias (the painter) to come back to her house with me. I really needed him for labor – there was no possible, physical way that I would be able to add a painting to my already full load.

Elias is an incredibly talented young painter. We talked for hours about life, traveling, family, being young, and taking advantage of every opportunity. He was one of those people that came in my life so briefly that it’s hard to believe that he was there. But now, I have his painting (and what would become the bane of my existence) to remind me even as I sit on my bed and look across the room.

I had procrastinated so much the day before I had decided to just go to this great museum in Brussels on Monday instead of Sunday. So I head back into the city to go to the museum but, duh, everything is closed on Mondays. “The Death of Marat” in its non-slide or digital picture state still eludes me.

So I did what any good traveler does – I wandered. But just because it was “one of those days,” of course it was raining. My walk took me past an orangerie that Nicole had told me about in a quaint, small park tucked in the middle of a bustling city.

Then I went and window shopped down the Avenue Louisa. I considered taking advantage of the lack of no open container laws and just hunkering down on a park bench with a bottle of wine but then my mood changed to classy.

After paying for a twenty euro glass of champagne and having a wonderful chat with a Luxembourgish jeweler, I set out for Erfana’s. I was going to hit the grocery store and make dinner that night.

Erfana had given me directions from her house to the grocery store but I was coming from the metro stop. I found the grocery store (and probably went way out of the way), wandered for far too long, bought a honeydew melon instead of a squash, and was laden with bags before heading back to the house – in the dark.

A few wrong turns and a walk under the highway later, I stopped thinking I would see something familiar “just around the next bend” and asked the rare person in this rural neighborhood for the street that Erfana lived on. I had walked so far I was in the next town over.

Back across the highway, up and down some hills (in a skirt and with grocery bags, mind you), I make it back to the grocery store. Erfana gave me new directions and I set out from there. When I ran into another grocery store I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was going the wrong way. Again.

I kept walking until I spotted a car dealership and called Erfana. She said, “Stay where you are. I’ll be right there.” Talk about the longest grocery store run of your life.

Dinner was great, though. I was in the kind of mood that just didn’t care. Because everything had gone wrong, there was nothing else that possibly could go wrong. I stayed up until 4 am finishing the stupid “Sex and the City” seasons.

A running theme throughout my overseas travels is that when it is time to come back, I get really depressed. Last time I spent hours upon hours at the British Museum. Since the museum I wanted to see was closed, I must have settled for a classic American HBO sitcom.

The Last Sunday

2008-02-10T21:14:00.001+01:00

More of trying to convince myself more than Erfana that “Really, sitting and watching TV for hours in my pajamas totally isn’t me.” Finally I got off the couch to get dressed and wander my public transit way back to Braine-le-Chateau.

Because Erfana lives so near the airport, she offered to drop me off on her way to work on Tuesday.

The Last Saturday

2008-02-10T21:13:00.000+01:00

I sat on the couch watching seasons of “Sex and the City” while telling Erfana that this “totally isn’t like me” – sitting around and doing nothing. Somehow I really took to it over the next few days.

Saturday marked a return into the heart of the city I had come to love. I wandered down through the streets of the old part of the city and back to the Grand Place, shopping for SMALL gifts for those on my list. My goals: buy Christmas AND Europe presents all in one shot and make sure they’re small enough to fit in my suitcase.

My best finds:
· A store called “L’instant present” – This man has traveled all over the world taking unbelievable photos. The one I chose for my Pops for Christmas was shot in Utah.
· A silver ring with a round, engraved half-circle raised on the top of it – I walked in this uber-hippie, patcholi and hemp smelling store only to find this ring tucked away in the corner of a jewelry case. Two days later it will be complimented by a man who makes his living as a jewelry designer. That may have been a European pick-up line.
· A necklace from a chain store (I broke my “local” tendencies) that I had been in while visiting Paris five years before – Big, black discs overlap to make a funky gift for my sis.

I returned home to share Erfana’s spicy Kashmiri meatballs with Ryan and Anneke – two people we worked who also worked at the Embassy. Maybe one last weekend in Brussels wouldn't be so bad ...

The Last Thursday

2008-02-10T04:56:00.000+01:00

Erfana and Jacques took me out for lunch on my second to last day at the Embassy. Right by St. Katherine's cathedral. We had raw oysters and mussels that had been caught fresh that day. Then we trekked across the street to get some Kibbeling, which was incredibly good as well. Thanks, you two!

My Last Moments

2008-02-10T04:19:00.000+01:00

The last days and moments in Belgium are somewhat of a blur (particularly because it was months ago - my apologies for the lack of updates). I'll take you day by day because each one of those was "one of those days" - the one that just doesn't seem to go right no matter what you do.

Here goes.

Turning Lemons into Lemonade

2007-11-17T13:40:00.000+01:00

Jannik, Sandra, Erfana, Rob, and me at the Conrad party.
The ice skating rink. Up and to the right was the outdoor patio (for the summer) and the party, which was also in the hotel's restaurant.
Me ice skating at the party. This is the third year they've made this ice skating rink and the last time because the party needs to become the next posh thing.

My last weekend abroad was supposed to be spent in France ... until the French decided to go on strike.

I spent the day at work, chatting with my officemate, Erfana. I had to run around a get a paper signed to check out so around 3 pm I went up to the IT department and as I'm walking out the elevator I run into someone holding a beer. I was like ... what?? Evidently they start their happy hour a bit early as they were all just sitting around the chips and dip drinking their beers. Only in Europe could Americans do that at work.

Then Erfana and I head down to the first floor (second floor here, people) where they're having a party for two women whose birthdays were that month - Jannik and Sandra. So at 3:30 we have a glass of champagne, eat some nuts, and then I head out for the train station.

Strutting in my heels, suitcase in tow, I get to the train station at the perfect time only to not be able to find my train on the schedule. I CANNOT figure out what platform I'm supposed to be on. I head to the information booth and wait behind this guy who's probably about my age who is showing CLASSIC signs of being in a rush - checking his watch, sighing dramatically, etc. I start a conversation and turns out we're on the same train.

In the end - there were no trains going to Lyon Friday night, Saturday, and probably most of Sunday. Another line was running but it was going to be more expensive, much more difficult, etc.

I finally tracked down a phone area (because I left mine at home, of course) and tried to call Erfana because I was cranky and wanted to do something fun if I was going to stay in Brussels. She didn't answer ... didn't answer. Finally I make plans with Paul to meet him like usual and go home with him.

I take the metro back to the Embassy stop (close to Paul) and decide to just go up to the office and see if Erfana is there - it's about 5:30 by this time. All the lights are off, I have to wait and wait to get the doors unlocked for me, but I finally make it upstairs. No Erfana but her coat, etc. are all there so I called Paul and said - I'm not coming home tonight.

Turns out there were still three people (Jannik, Sandra, and one of my bosses, Rob) down at first floor's happy hour (5 bottles of champagne later). For a HOST of reasons that led to my crabbiness, I went down and joined them for a glass. We chat for awhile and Sandra says that she and Jannik are going to this party at Conrad (a posh hotel that was just bought by Hilton) - would I want to come? YES!

The five of us leave around 7:30 and go to the Conrad. They've turned the inner courtyard into a skating rink. All of the ice skates are brand new, even. There was raclette (which I LOVE) and the BEST waffle I've had thus far during my time here.

Afterwards, Erfana and I went back to her place, talked for awhile, and crashed.

"American" Cuisine

2007-11-14T14:03:00.000+01:00

A DAY OFF. (Veteran's Day)

I thought that maybe I should use this time to go into Brussels and see any last minute treasures I haven't had a chance to experience and then I realized - no thanks. I've been working since before the day I graduated (minus four days with the fam at the lake - and one of those days it rained). All of my weekends and free time while in Brussels have been spent traveling and sight-seeing.

So I slept in until almost nine o'clock (which was a TERRIBLE performance for any 23 year old) and lounged on the couch for an hour flipping between the Italian and French TV stations, with a little BBC news thrown in there.

The day before I had been talking with Nicole about ingredients that I would need for the american cuisine I would be preparing that night. She took me out in the garden and showed me where the carrots, celery, parsley, and thyme could be found. So I picked me some veggies and walked 20 minutes to meet Mamie (Julia - Nicole's mom) for lunch.

We went to the Brasserie du Chateau and were going to "eat light" because I was making dinner so we went with the plate of the day: roti something or other. Turns out it was basically turkey in a bechamel sauce covered in cheese served with salad, croquettes (another fried food) and bread - not to mention the wine and apple tarts. But it was great, of course.

Mamie and I walked to the supermarket to buy some other ingredients. This "tiny" supermarket had one full aisle for wine, another for beer, and another for cheese. It was ridiculous. (And at least half an aisle for chocolate - but that wasn't ridiculous.) Of course by the time we checked out the beautiful day had turned rainy and cold.

Mamie and I went back to her apartment for tea and a chat before I headed back home - once again in the beautiful sunshine.

The meal of chicken pot pie, homemade applesauce, and puppy chow was quite the success, if I do say so myself. They have similar meals (like vol au vent or bouchee a la reine, which we had the next night for dinner). It was interesting to cook without any real grasp of measurement. It was all done by estimation because their system is one of weight, not volume.

In the end, I figure you can cover up any cooking flaw with some sugar, chocolate, and peanut butter. Puppy chow is always a win-win.

In a Nutshell: Last Belgian Weekend

2007-11-14T13:35:00.001+01:00

In a nutshell, here's how I've been passing the last few moments of time in Brussels:

Friday night Paul, Nicole, and I had dinner in Nivelles, a town near Braine-le-Chateau, for their typical food of "tarte a l'djote." Imagine the crust of a quiche with cheese and more cheese inside. The kind I got had one half of cheese and the other half of cheese and vegetables (but mostly cheese). When it arrives, you take a slab of butter and spread it all around while the tarte is still hot. Wash it down with a little Saint-Jacques beer and it's a true Nivellois meal.

Saturday I took the train to Cologne, Germany where I met my friend Eike. Eike studied at Ames High during my last year in high school. We wandered around Cologne, went in the cathedral, did some shopping, and grabbed a bite (or three). Eike had me try "berlinas," which are the german equivalent of a jelly filled donut with sugar on the outside. My train took an hour longer than it was supposed to because of a reroute so the travel time ended up almost doubled by the time I got home.

Sunday Nicole and I picked up Oceane from school (they had a special thing for Armistice Day - November 11) and then went on an unsuccessful hunt for an open grocery store. Afterward we picked up Mamie and went to lunch at a restaurant in the forest. I ate carbonnade - the same meal I had my very first day in Brussels.

Afterward we drove into Brussels to the Koekelberg Basilica (Basilica of the Sacred Heart and the fourth largest in the world)- there was a Leonardo da Vinci exhibit there that looked really interesting. We waited in line for about a half an hour and got to the doorway where we thought we would go in only to find that the line wound around about ten more times. So we left and went to Kasteel van Gassbeek.

It was a beautiful castle with vast grounds - ponds, trails, gardens, etc. On our way back we stopped for crepes and tea (or Kriek beer in Mamie and Nicole's case) before heading back to the house.

That night I tried MORE different kinds of cheese. It just never ends ...

Crunch Time

2007-11-09T08:33:00.001+01:00

I head back to the States one week from Tuesday. It's so hard to believe that time has flown by so quickly.

Yesterday Paul had to work late so I headed over to the Parliament Building for a quick tour. It was BEAUTIFUL. There are busts of former Prime Ministers in all the hallways, Belgian tapestries lining the walls, and salles with real gold decor.

The entrance to the building has one door for the Senate and one door for the House. They have two totally separate staircases and the decor is different for each. (The Senate is red, the House is green.) It was all very neat and I'm glad that I got the inside tour (thanks, Paul!). I got to stand where the Speaker of the House stands, sit in the Prime Minister's chair, and watch the proceedings of the Senate (although that's not usually allowed). Not bad.

Afterwards I wandered down and did a bit of shopping, although stores here close SO early, at a gauffre, and eventually wandered my way back up to the Parliament in order to go home. It was drizzling which turned into rain on the way home and hasn't stopped since. So THIS is the weather they've been talking about.

November, November, the Fifth of November

2007-11-09T08:03:00.000+01:00

i.e. MY BIRTHDAY!!!

Thank you all for the warm wishes and birthday gifts! They helped me celebrate in true Shannon fashion - I just don't stop celebrating.

The day didn't start out the greatest - I was tired from our weekend adventure and it was Monday morning. I put on my thigh highs (and other clothes) and headed off to work. It wasn't long before I realized that they weren't going to stay thigh high for very long.

Let's just say that about every 50 feet someone got a nice shot of my legs as I yanked those puppies up and kept walking. By now Victoria had completely lied to me as to her product - I also had a run. I made it to work, threw the thigh highs in the trash, and gave in to spending 4 euros on a new pair.

Some of my co-workers and I had lunch together to celebrate the b-day (one even got me Tostitos with a hint of lime and salsa - thanks!). That afternoon I worked out a bit and game home to a special meal of smoked salmon from Ireland, foie gras (which I had never had before), and a sugar tart complete with a candle that played "Happy Birthday."

Tuesday I got to celebrate even more as those with Facebook caught up with the time difference.

THANKS AGAIN to all of you who made my birthday so great! We'll celebrate Iowa style once I get back - just because I can. It's my birthday after all.

Belgium in a Day

2007-11-06T10:45:00.000+01:00

James and I went to Waterloo (where Napoleon was finally defeated) on Sunday but were too cheap (as usual) to actually purchase the ticket to climb to the top. (It's something like two hundred steps - we didn't have time for that.) So, we walked around and took lots of pictures before heading back to the Van Ausbrech/Denayer household for lunch.

It was a grand affair with Julia (Nicole's mother), James, and Paul's mom and step-father. We spent a couple of hours at the table and then James and I rushed off to downtown Brussels.

After a huge hassle of dropping off the car and then taking the tram (not the metro) to downtown Brussels, James finally saw the Manneken Pis and the Grand Place (see picture above). Then we grabbed a waffle and some chocolate to eat on our way back to the train station.

We spent at LEAST half an hour searching for the stupid bus that would take James to the airport and finally found it. Then I caught my train, had dinner with the fam, and went to bed after a long weekend ...

Five in the Focus

2007-11-05T10:39:00.000+01:00

Shelly, James, and I went to the market in Heilbronn on Saturday morning. It takes place just in front of the town hall which boasts an astronomical clock by Isaak Habrecht (1580). We bought pastries and wandered around a bit before picking up the boys, piling in the car, and heading out in the direction of the Black Forest (which is in the area of Schwarzwald).

We stopped at TRIBERG, which is known for the largest cuckoo clock and a beautiful waterfall. We walked up to go to the waterfall but would have had to pay to go all the way up so we toured around some cuckoo shops and walked the town a bit. We never saw the largest cuckoo clock either. Triburg was a bit of a bust.

But, we got a recommendation from a guy to go to a nearby town for some true German food and it was actually VERY good. Shelly and Peter got "small" schnitzels (they were fried pieces of pork, in essence, that completely filled their plates) while the rest of us got spatzle - a german pasta.

We went on to COLMAR, France which is on the southern part of the wine route that goes through Alsace-Lorraine. There was a great little market going on with less food stuffs and more clothes and other goods. We all stopped for treats before continuing on our separate shopping ways for about an hour.

The town is very quaint as many of the buildings are painting in bright colors. James bought some "marrons" or chestnuts from a street vendor. They were terrible but for some reason I know that we all had more than one.

When we recongregated at the car, Thomas and Peter proposed that we head back to Brussels so we dropped Shelly off at the train station and headed back north with hip hop, Dane Cook, and Cake filling the car. We stopped at a rest station in Luxembourg so James could say that he'd actually BEEN in Luxembourg.

Most of the rest of the countryside was blurred because: 1) it was dark out, and 2) Peter was driving WELL over any speed limit as he was determined to get us back to Brussels by 10 pm. As we were driving we saw a huge FLASH all of the sudden and realized that a picture had been taken of our car in order for us to get a speeding ticket later. Funny thing is that the same thing happened less than a half an hour later.

Nicole and Paul said that I'll be hunted down even though it's a rental car. Meh, I'll be gone by then.

Thomas tried his hand at throwing fruit at passing signs going over 100 mph. On Thursday Thomas had dared Peter to stick his head out the window if we went 110 mph. I thought that was funny but Thomas wearing a bright neon vest, tangerine in hand, cheeks flapping in the wind was rather entertaining as well. (The "driving uniform" came about because every car in Belgium must have this neon vest in it in case a driver/passenger needs to stand on the side of the road because of an accident, for example.)

We got to Brussels just fine albeit not by 10 pm. James and I stayed at Thomas' house again and played some board games with the Scherbels before heading to bed.

Where are we, anyway?

2007-11-05T10:20:00.000+01:00

Friday morning we hit up Cinnabon and high-tailed it out of town. We stopped in Trier, Germany's oldest town to check out the sights and do some shopping. We saw Porta Nigra and the Cathedral of Trier (Trierer Dom). After wandering around the cloisters and the chapel we left town in the direction of Frankfurt-Hahn Airport.

James was flying in at 6 pm that night. With Peter at the healm we got there ... at 3 pm. So we turned around and went from one little town to the next, not really finding anything of note, until we made our way back to the airport. I will say that Evelyn was the best 12 euros per day that I've ever spent. She treated us right for most of the trip and this was no exception.

The only time we had some troubles was Thursday night when we were at the base and she showed our car as an arrow in an entirely black space. We figured out later that it was less because of Evelyn and more because of the fact that we were in restricted space. Sorry for the taunting language, swearing, and mean jests, Evelyn.

It was great to see James! We hugged for probably five minutes as neither one of us had hugged anyone in a very long time. (I know that might shock some of you who are aware of my anti-touching campaign.) Then we all piled in the car and headed to Heilbronn to stay with Shelly. James gorged himself on hint of lime Tostitos - apparently you can't get American chips in Britain. The benefits of working for the government.

Shelly showed us around Heilbronn a bit and we ate a restaurant where I ordered a completely unknown dish - it was like spaghetti noodles, veggies, and a cream sauce with cheese and sort of egg concoction that was baked. Not bad actually.

We walked back along the river and passed a giant fallen log that's carved in the shape of something it shouldn't look like and went back to Shelly's to crash.

Take a Penny, Leave a Penny

2007-11-05T10:03:00.000+01:00

A little anecdote from lunch a few weeks ago:

Thomas and Peter were tired of the food at the D.G. so we walked down to the Tasty Corner and ordered some paninis. I ordered for Thomas and myself (due to the French skillz). The total came to something and 10 cents. There was a small plate on the counter that had little change in it. Thinking that others adopted the "Take a Penny, Leave a Penny" system, I grabbed 10 centimes and handed it all over to the lady.

She sort of looked at me funny and took my money. After conferring with Thomas and Peter, I realized that I had definitely taken straight from her tips.

It was really awkward because we had paid but were waiting for our paninis (WHY do they have to cook so long?!?). We tried to ameliorate the situation by putting WAY more than 10 cents back on the plate but every time we put more down, the lady wasn't looking. In the end, I would venture to guess that we multiplied her tips by ten.

My suggestions:

1) Get a tip JAR - a customer's hand will get stuck if they try to reach in for 10 cents and therefore there would be no confusion.
2) If you want more tips, get a bigger plate. I don't see how that small thing helps pay the bills.

On the Road

2007-11-05T09:44:00.000+01:00

After a great breakfast of champions at the Scherbel household, Peter, Thomas, and I took off to the Commissary in Chievres. By this time I had no less than 8 kills on my record. (That would be eight times that I killed the car.) We loaded up on groceries for Shelly and food for the trip and took off towards Luxembourg.

The scenery was BEAUTIFUL, especially set to a wonderful soundtrack of hip hop. Our best detour of the entire weekend was when we saw a sign for the Euro Space Center. Let's just say that there was a playground and a GIANT ROCKET. We climbed up, took lots of pictures, and said adieu to Belgium.

Later we stopped in the Mullerthal region of Luxembourg, particularly in the town of Beaufort where there was a beautiful chateau. Of course it cost 2 euros to actually go in it so we didn't. Instead we headed back out of town and up some winding roads where, when I again killed the car and almost got us killed, Thomas took over driving and put the E-Brake to good use.

We backroaded it - Evelyn didn't have any idea where we were - and eventually wound our way to Spangdahlem Air Force Base.

Our "room" was $48 (not Euros, DOLLARS) for the night. It included three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and TVs not to mention everything else that was on the Base: movie rental, Commissary/PX, Burger King, Taco Bell, Cinnabon, bowling alley ... the list goes on. Cha-ching!

We rented and watched Syriana, hit up some pretty good Mexican food in a nearby town, and se couch'ed for the night.

Working hard ... Monday through Wednesday

2007-11-05T09:25:00.000+01:00

Thursday was the first of November, a holiday here in Belgium. So - I took Friday off, like most people did, and spent the first three days of the week working to ensure that my birthday weekend celebration was going to be a BLAST.

It went a little like this:

Monday I worked like usual. It was interspersed with emails, phone calls, IMs, and visits with Thomas and Peter in particular, as well as my friends Shelly (who lives in Germany now), and James (who goes to Cambridge).

Tuesday we realized that we were under the wire to make last minute arrangements for our weekend trip to Germany, Luxembourg, and France. Previously we had tried to get a card (which we found out later is the IACS card) - this card gets you on to any base. Because we're interns, however, we were told we couldn't get the card.

Shelly had put in her order of American food that she wanted me to buy. The usual for expats includes chocolate chips and, for a holiday such as Thanksgiving, all of the makings for pumpkin pie. Thomas said that we should go out to the Commissary at the Military Base in Chievres (just outside of Brussels) in order to get the food because they import it all from the States and charge American prices (plus, it's all in dollars, not euros, which means it's CHEAPER).

Thomas had heard of another intern who had the card you need in order to buy at the Commissary or the PX (the military version of a mini-Wal-Mart) which meant that she also must have had the IACS card to get on the base. Peter, Thomas, and I went back down to Human Resources with this new info. Some time and some luck later, we had the card to buy at the PX and the form to get the IACS card.

One of the women that works in Thomas and Peter's office said that there was this GREAT Air Force Base, Spangdahlem, in Germany, about an hour from Luxembourg. She had stayed there for SUPER cheap and was very impressed with it. So ... Thomas made reservations.

Peter, Thomas, and I also had lunch at Deputy Chief of Mission Wayne Bush's house. DCM Bush is the second-in-command at the Bi-Lateral Embassy (just under the Ambassador) and is a career Foreign Service Officer. He was incredibly generous to donate two hours of his time and his personal chef's services for the three of us. His home actually used to be an Ambassadors' residence so it was beautiful and it was an honor to be able to speak with him about the life of an FSO.

Wednesday rolled around. That morning I had a meeting I had forgotten about and things blew up in the Bi-Lat building. The problem was that we had made appointments out at USAG (US Army Garrison) to get our IACS cards but that required a twenty or thirty minute shuttle ride, etc. I ended up being the only one that could go (although one IACS card gets you plus four people onto a base).

Again, after some finagling, we all finished our work a bit early and headed out to Hertz where we picked up our light blue Ford Focus that would probably hate us after the weekend and our GPS Magellan that I later named Evelyn. The Focus had a scratch and ding in the left front panel so the Hertz woman said she could switch our car. We said NO as we figured it gave us more room to get a bit liberal with our driving.

We went back to the office to pick up Anneke in order to head to the PX. That got a bit detained and by the time we were finally out of the city we just turned around because we were meeting a bunch of other people for dinner on Kabob Row and a movie. We found a parking place relatively close to where we needed to be but the guy behind us had a ticket. So, we did like any other intern would do, we took the ticket off his car, put it on ours, and walked away.

Fries and pitas on Kabob Row, The Kingdom at this amazing movie theater, and back to Thomas' house so we could all hit the road the next morning.

Taming the Lion

2007-11-05T08:42:00.000+01:00

I spent last weekend in Lyon, France. Flew in Friday night and went with Fred, Gilles, Victoire, and Alex to L'EST - a restaurant of one of the Grand Chefs of France: Paul Bocuse. Of course I didn't know how big of a name "Paul Bocuse" is so I just acted like I was uber impressed and later was actually impressed (once I read about him).

It was a typically French meal in that it didn't start until 10 pm and involved all sorts of sauces, wine, and cheese. Thanks, Bocuse.

Saturday I went to a store called "Decathlon" - the French version of Scheels. Later Victoire, Fred, and I went to the market in Craponne, which is probably one of my favorite things to do in Lyon. It's this AWESOME market that has everything from food (lots and lots of vegetables, fruits, bread, meat, cheese, etc.) to clothes and shoes. It goes year round. That, combined with the fact that Fred bought 4 kilos of apples for 5 euros, makes me wish that we had something that was even a token of the same.

We had a big lunch after the market. Fred always cooks up the best meals. Saturday afternoon (after my nap, of course - we'd stayed up late the night before!) the kids, Gille, and I went to Alex's rugby game. They won and he even scored their only touchdown. (Do they even have touchdowns in rugby?)

Saturday night was very ... interesting. Fred and Gilles were going to a friend's place for dinner (like usual - I also love the fact that they do that almost every weekend and stay out until 2 or 3 in the morning. I don't do that and I'm only 23. Lame.) So ... I drove Fred's prized VW Crosspolo. I say prized because she had to wait 5 months for the color she wanted (orange) to become available. Now she prides herself on the fact that almost no one else has a similar car.

Victoire and I were going to Tassin to a movie and were dropping Alex off in the process. Needless to say that evening was the beginning of my difficulties with the clutch (more to come on that later). Victoire and Alex thought they were going to die - I was even unsure there for a moment but all worked out just fine.

We saw "Le Secret," which turned out to be: 1) incredibly sad and depressing, 2) truly a French film with lots of silence, etc., and 3) mostly for older couples. It was a great chance to spend some time with Victoire, however.

Sunday we bummed around all morning before Gilles, Fred, and I went to Beaujolais for Fred's sister's 50th birthday party. Most of Fred's family was there - it was great to meet them and spend the afternoon with them. We had a HUGE catered meal in a beautiful home.

After lunch (at 3 pm), cheese, dessert, and coffee everyone dispersed but then I heard quite a few voices coming from the back of the house. I was almost the only person not in this bedroom but I didn't really want to go back there because I thought it was a bit odd to go into someone else's bedroom.

Finally Gilles comes out and says, "Did you see it?" See what? I walked back there and Fred's sister and brother-in-law were showing off their hot tub. Apparently they're very rare in France because they're so expensive. Just when I think that most people are the same, it's the little things that remind me that I am in a foreign land.

A Pictoral Journey

2007-10-28T00:18:00.001+02:00

Because of the stringent security rules at the Embassy and the fact that I don't have internet at the house in Brussels I haven't had a chance to add photos of my time here. (Start at the bottom and work your way up if you want chronological order.)

Fredérique and Gilles at L'Est - a restaurant in Lyon of Chef Paul Bocuse (more to come later). It has been WONDERFUL to see the Barjhoux family again. Merci bien à Gilles, Fred, Victoire, Alexandre, Maxence, et Stanislas (et, bien sur, Albert et Tiggeroo.)

Peter, myself, and Thomas went to the Coudenberg Museum this week. This is a picture of Peter not being amused at ALL by the fact that it was being taken (or he actually accepted the three fireballs at once dare and his face is forever going to stay in this position) while under the place where the Royal Palace now stands. We are standing on what used to be a cobblestone street.

This was taken in the main square in Anvers/Antwerp last weekend. I'll save you all from the many, many others that were unsuccessful.

The Parc de Bruxelles - just across the street from where I work at the Embassy. This used to be the old hunting grounds of the Duke of Brabant. After the fire ruined the Royal Palace, this parcel of land was turned into a park and the other pieces were parceled off, sold, and developed.

Nocturne Museums

2007-10-26T16:06:00.001+02:00

In case you haven't noticed, I tend to blog multiple entries at once so if you're actually reading these still (THANKS, MOM!) make sure to check out all of what my rambling has to offer.

Last night Peter, Thomas, and I met Paul (host family Paul) at the Coudenberg museum. Nocturne is a rotating schedule of area museums that stay open late on Thursday evenings between October and December and to reduce their prices (ONE EURO if you're less than 25). The Coudenberg is the archeological site of the former Royal Palace of Brussels and is UNDER the new Palace. It was cool to see for ONE EURO.

Then Paul and I ditched Thomas and Peter (or the other way around) and went to the MIM - Musee des Instruments de Musique. It's in this BEAUTIFUL old Art Nouveau building (apparently Brussels has tons of them) that used to be a department store of sorts. It was redone relatively recently and now serves as a museum which houses old instruments. With your ticket you get a headset. As you stand in front of each of the instruments, you hear music that is played with that specific instrument.

We went up to the sixth (which is really the seventh) floor where there is a restaurant for a beautiful view of Brussels at night. (And, taking a hint from my dear friend Alan, you can go up there for free just to see the sites.)

As we went back down two young men stopped us. They were taking a survey about our experience at the museum and with the Nocturne events. We went back upstairs for some free hot chocolate in order to chat with these folks. Paul and I didn't get back to the house until after 9. A little din din of another Belgian meal that's typically served in the summer: bread with their equivalent of cream cheese, little bit of salt and pepper, sliced radishes, and sliced shallot (optional). Mmm mmm. I thought I didn't even like radishes.

One of Those Days

2007-10-26T12:23:00.000+02:00

I am writing this in spite of the fact that the government will probably read every word later. Hang on folks, it's gonna be a long one but it will probably give you a better feel for what I do. Here was my day thus far:

Get up around 5:30/5:45 in order to shower, pack, have breakfast, etc. before leaving the house at 6:50.

Get to work, check email, work on a report, etc.

9:00 am - I am supposed to catch a motorpool vehicle out to the warehouse for a new project I am working on. I head downstairs and ask one of the guards if they know where it is. They said that the unmarked van directly in front of the buildings is the shuttle but the driver went inside another building.

9:10 am - I go to the other building to look for this driver but that guard hasn't seen him. I wait. And wait. Finally the driver comes and says he's going to NATO (which is about 45 minutes away) not the warehouse (which is about 25 - 30 minutes away) but he'll call the dispatcher and see if a motorpool vehicle was supposed to be called.

No luck. The dispatcher doesn't have record of such a request. The driver was very kind but I decided to head back up to my office.

9:15 am - I call Erfana, the woman who sometimes works in my office and with whom I am collaborating on this most recent project. She was supposed to have arranged for the motorpool but accidently forgot. No problem - she'll call me a cab I just have to go down to the first floor to pick up a voucher to give to the driver. Everything should be arranged.

9:32 am - Head downstairs to see Carine who gives me a voucher (even though she was on the phone - it was very kind). I go outside and get in my Mercedes, leather interior cab (this is no Old Capitol Cab, people). The guy even knows my name BUT he asks where I'm going. "The warehouse," I said. After a bit of a discussion I realize that he doesn't know where that is and neither do I.

9:40 am - Get out of the cab and talk to the closest guard. He doesn't know where the warehouse is but directs me to the guard's post in the Ambassador's Residence.

9:43 am - Go to the guard's post. Luckily one of the guards knows exactly which notebook contains the information I need. So he searches. And searches. And searches until he finally finds the address I need. I write it down and head back outside to my cabbie.

9:50 am - We're on the road.

10:10 am - We arrive in the town (it's a bit outside of Brussels) where the warehouse is. After stopping a few times to consult this giant book of maps (WHY they don't have GPS, despite the fact that everyone else has Tom Toms, I don't know) we see the proper street. But it's a one-way and we're going in the wrong direction. Because of the winding roads of Europe we can't just go up a block and come back down the other way. No ... we go up one block, take a left, up another block, take a right, up a few more blocks until everything's backed up due to a semi trying to back up dow this miniscule street. We wait. And wait.

10:18 am - Finally the semi gets situated and all traffic is moving again. So we go down a few more streets and look for Number 13 but to no avail and then we're at the end of the road and can't go back up it because it's a one-way. We drive the loop again. And look at the map again. Finally the driver calls headquarters (because this taxi company has a contract with us and should be used to driving these same routes). The command mentions something about a big, white building (duh - they're all around us) and it being near number 15-19. The driver is like, oh yeah, oh yeah, I know what you're talking about - bye.

10:24 am - We do the loop again and return to the place that the driver thought was correct. No way - I'm looking for a giant warehouse people that's affiliated with the US Government. The place we stopped at was CLEARLY a residence. I don't know if the "house look" of it gave it away or the laundry hanging out on the line but for some reason I just didn't see this as the place that served as storage for over 300 Foreign Service Officers (FSOs).

10:25 am - Where do we go? Back down the same street. By this time the driver is thoroughly annoyed and frustrated. I'm somewhat annoyed but mostly disgusted because he's been sniffling, coughing, and wiping his nose every few seconds each of which are interspersed with either the rolling up or the rolling down of his window. He calls HQ again which totally doesn't help us. After reaching the SAME SPOT on this loop one more time, he pulls out the map and we wait for other cars to go around us. Maybe we should take a LEFT instead of a RIGHT at this intersection.

Brilliant. The numbers start decreasing instead of increasing. I have hope that instead of going to 113 we'll actually find 13. Lo and behold - WE DO! (47.80 euros later) But oh - that's not the end of the story.

10:28 am - I get out of the car, pay the driver and wish him good luck. I was in pretty decent spirits up until this point but then I walk to the "door" of a giant iron fence in front of the building I KNOW is correct. There are two doorbells and a sign that says "Warehouse" with an arrow pointing to the left.

I go to the other entrance to the left, which is one for cars, and ring the bell there. I hear it sound - I know it works. But no one comes, no one answers, and no one hops on a little intercom assuring me of the presence of another human being.

10:31 am - I head back to the other door and push any button I can find, not caring that I'm not here for maintenance. No one answers. I finally let out this giant exasperated sigh of frustration when some wonderful saintly man drives past and asks me if I'm with the Embassy. I say, "Yes" (never before so thankful for my French) and find it rather curious that he doesn't even ask to see my badge. But I don't really care as he's taking his keys out of his ignition so he can push the button to open the entrance for the cars.

I walk in the fenced in area and, big surprise, can't get in the front doors because they're locked. The pathetic look on my face must have said enough because someone was walking by and felt bad enough for me that he stopped and opened the door and even showed me to the correct office.

Once I got there all was fine, incredibly impressive in fact. So much so (and a lot more fun) that I think I'll be doing about half of my work out there. I got a full tour of the facility and had a really great chat with the GSO (General Service Officer) and the FSN (Foreign Service National) or LES (Locally Engaged Staff) who runs the warehouse. (See what I mean about acronyms?)

Once I got back to the JAS (Joint Administrative Services) building, I got a bit more work done before heading over to the D.G. (Daily Grind - our little cafeteria) to pick up some food before a Brown Bag Lunch with the rest of the interns (even those coming from all the way over at NATO, which is about a 45 minute commute) and Ambassador Gray. Unfortunately, we learn after the first hour that at about the time the Ambassador is supposed to show up he won't be able to.

So, Thomas proposes that we head back over to the D.G. because it's a Pumpkin Carving Contest AND pumpkin muffins and cider were on sale. After a run-off vote, Thomas' Witches Brew beats out all others (including Punnekin Pis - in reference to the Mannekin Pis. Whatever - it's funny if you live here.) It actually ended up being a great thing that the Ambassador couldn't make it (no offense, Ambassador Gray - looking forward to it some day) because:

Earlier I had had to give Koen (the guy who runs the D.G.) an explanation (and I threw in a little a wink just to be on the safe side) in order to get him to save me a muffin if they were going to run out seeing as how I was going to be late.
We got to hang out with the other interns a bit longer.
Thomas, Peter, and I sat until 3:15 just chatting and because we stayed so long, we got even MORE muffins - free this time.

Now I'm back in the office to get a few more things done before I leave here in order to go to Lyon, FRANCE this weekend! Thanks for tuning in.

The Rest of Belgium

2007-10-22T10:42:00.000+02:00

The Belgians keep talking about this rainy, gray weather, but so far I have yet to experience much of it. This weekend, albeit chilly, was BEAUTIFUL as I saw much of what the area has to offer.

Saturday included Antwerp.
Sunday included (practically) everything else.

Nicole and I went to a Protestant Church in the morning. I was completely struck by the sincerity of those there and their welcoming presence. Having always gone to a large church, I can see why those that are a bit smaller can be appealing. It was nice to meet Jim and Millie, missionaries who are here that met my parents while they were all in France earlier this fall.

Afterward met Oceane, Paul, and Julia (the grandmother a.k.a. Mami) in the city and headed to Brugge/Bruges. What a BEAUTIFUL CITY. It is very walkable and has canals and little shops all over the place. Horse drawn carriages continuously move throughout the city. There's one part near an abbey (although I'm told it's not an abbey because it's not a religious endeavor) where the canal opens up into the Lac d'Amour (Love Lake) because it's surrounded by swans.

We stopped at a restaurant one the side of the square with a heated patio for moules et frites - mussels and french fries - and took in the surroundings. After walking all over the city we hopped in the car and headed a ways down the road to the sea. Although there are all sorts of cities to visit, we stopped in Le Coq/De Haan (all cities have two names - the Dutch and the French).

I am told that Le Coq is one of the prettiest cities because the houses were built in the 20s and 30s. As we drove toward the coast there were tons of sand dunes. We parked and walked along a boardwalk that was (of course) brick. It reminded me of Coney Island in New Jersey but less dilapidated. We ate waffles (once again, of course) and had tea in a covered porch away from the wind and meandered back to the car.

From there we took a long way back to Brussels via Knokke - a very rich, sporty coastal town. On the way we passed by Zeebrugge (New Bruges), a port which has now passed Antwerp in size. The freightliners and stockyards were ENORMOUS.

I feel really fortunate to be able to have experiences that most tourists probably don't get. Although I had read about Antwerp and Bruges, I certainly didn't know the ins and outs of the cities or that Le Coq was the best coastal town to visit. It all just enforces my strong sentiments towards anything local.

My Good Walking Heels

2007-10-22T09:55:00.000+02:00

It was a long, busy weekend - LOTS to do, especially because most of my weekends will be spent away from Brussels.

Friday night Oceane, Nicole, Paul, and I went to La Ferme Rose - a pink (literally) farm that also has a great little restaurant. It's a good thing I hadn't eaten much that day as the meal was ridiculous. Nuts/trail mix (it's typically brought out at the beginning of meals here), an aperitif maison (a house concoction that I can't remember), bread with butter made there on the farm, faison a la brabaconne (which I found out later was pheasant) with apples, cranberries, mashed potatoes, endives, and stoempf - mashed potatoes with carrots and onions, wine, and ice cream that tasted like graham crackers. It beats Whitey's hands down. Then I rolled myself to bed.

The next morning Nicole had bought some donut-like things filled with cream and topped with powdered sugar. Dear Lord - I'm so pumped full of food I can hardly move. She drove me to the train station where I went into the city to meet Thomas. We walked to the apartment of Mary - the niece of a woman that works at the University of Iowa.

Mary was kind enough to tote us along on her trip to Antwerp. Thomas and I walked all over the city, shopped, took TONS of glorious pics, and ate (weird). We had dried fruit from a stand in one of the squares and then went for straight-up Italian cuisine because it was what we could understand. (I don't know the word for "rabbit" in Dutch in order to NOT eat it.) The city is really beautiful - right on the river. It has great architecture and shops and squares around every corner. Anvers/Antwerp is a younger, hipper city that is more into fashion, etc. Very cool. The afternoon ended with AMAZING waffles.

That evening Oceane transformed into a sorcerer/magician - minus "une baguette" (a wand). We met up with what must have been half the town (the other half doesn't have small children) in the city square of Braine-le-Chateau. The kids are all dressed up for Halloween (as are some of the parents) and everyone is bundled up for a walk that is initially escorted by a police car. We slowly wound our way through the city and up hills as the children periodically bombarded houses that were handing out candy.

It was about an hour of walking on ridiculous, European terrain (it's a love-hate type of relationship with cobblestone surfaces). There were all sorts of "spectacles" for the crowd - a "Cirque du Soleil" type acrobat in a tree, hot chocolate, an artist, people who danced around with fire sticks - and a haunted walk complete with ghosts, Scream masks, people who jumped out of the forest, and torches to light the way.

The walk lead back into the city center where there was a tent for drinks (I had a "packet de fruit de la passion" - a gin/passion fruit sort of drink.) There were also stands selling crepes, waffles (of course I had another one , duh), hamburgers, and hot dogs. A band played while we waited for the witch burn - they put a stick figured dressed as a witch on a pile of wood and light it on fire. Everyone hangs out and has a good time while standing around the fire to stay warm.

Between the time in Antwerp, the Halloween walk, and the walking that I do at the compound and to and from work every day, it's a good thing I brought my good walking heels.

Intern: A Unifying Word

2007-10-19T09:11:00.000+02:00

Around lunchtime on Monday Peter and Thomas stopped by (wouldn't Pops be proud I'm practically hanging out with the disciples?). We ended up having a kickin' time with a few others: Chris, Zia, and Anneke. All of the interns have had some great experiences traveling and learning other languages.

Most of us work in different sections but we really bonded that first day - particularly because it seems as though only the interns laugh. I have vowed to never become one of those people who no longer laughs (when does that happen, by the way?) OR, if I do, I'm going to become completely angry, bitter, and resentful. None of this halfway crap.

Thomas, Peter, and I have especially formed what I think one could call a connection. They took me under their wing and give me pity invitations to meetings and interviews considering I don't have many myself (although my boss is due back today!). We're already planning a trip for a long weekend, complete with a rental car. (We might even upgrade to the Ford Focus rather than the cheaper Tin Can. I know - high rollers.)

We also spent quite a bit of our time this week just checking out different aspects of the compound that we've heard about via our underground sources (i.e. overhearing others' conversations, reading the gov't's website out of boredom) and making fun of one another, particularly Peter.

Peter has suffered from what I like to call "The-Interns-Are-Our-Last-Priority Wait Period" (TIAOLPWP - because the government thrives on acronyms and abbreviations). Having previously worked for the State Department, Peter was a step ahead of me in that he already had his badge and he had a computer log-in. Great! you say? Not so much.

In order to change the computer options and other technical things I prefer not to spend time thinking about, Peter had to wait the token TIAOLPWP - 24 to 48 hours. (I myself also experienced this in waiting for my IM Communicator to work - how else am I supposed to efficiently communicate with the other interns in other buildings?) This meant he couldn't log on, get internet access - NOTHING. Most of ANYONE'S work is computer-driven. Fortunately, the TIAOLPWP has passed and Peter is back at it with his nose to the grindstone. (But now he's too afraid to contact them again in order to get his IM working - the beast of "TIAOLP.")

UPDATE: I forgot to add earlier that Peter suffered from another problem. Unlike in my section, Peter and Thomas both get cell phones from the government as part of their internships. Unfortunately, the TIAOLPWP for the cell for Peter (but not for Thomas who was here earlier) is one week. And, I'm pleased to announce that Peter's IM is working now. We have all taken FULL advantage of the concept of chat rooms, however Peter has since left the fold to pursue "work."

Today we're having a Brown Bag Lunch for all of the interns. Even one from NATO (which is probably 45 minutes away) is coming in. Should be a grand time. Or at least semi-not-so-bad.

UPDATE: There were four of us - Peter and Thomas (who so graciously postponed their shopping trip to join us), Anneke (another rockin' Midwesterner who, ironically, actually is from a farm and pursuing the field of agricultural economics), and me.

SIDE STORY you may or may not find funny:
(I'm still judging whether or not this one is a "you had to have been there" moment.)
We were visiting the library for the first time the other day. It was quiet in the little room, just Peter, Thomas, and me. One of the ladies that works there came in and was puttering around as well. I made a comment to Thomas, "Gol, I just love non-fiction. I'm such a non-fiction whore." To which he replied, "You don't like to fantasize?" Completely inappropriate but what made it SO funny was that the unknown lady was right there. It was everything I could do not to bust out into giant guffaws - seriously OUT LOUD laughter.

Foodie by Nature

2007-10-19T08:44:00.000+02:00

Last night was the first night that I "slept like a dormouse" as they say in French. AND, I'm finally warm (only two layers today)! It's a turning point I tell you.

Although there's not too much I can share about what I do here or the way things run, there are some facets that are REALLY interesting. It's like a little piece of America here - goods are imported from the States and are available to the employees (Skippy, Oreos, etc.), there's a library of English books and an American Post Office at the compound (postcards coming), a DVD rental system (Hitch, Bourne Identity, etc.), and a small cafeteria/restaurant affectionately referred to as the D.G. (Daily Grind). Yesterday I blew about $10 on some SWEET fajitas down there. (They also ALWAYS have family-size bottles of Heinz Ketchup.) No offense to my man Koen that works down there but he's got nothing on Chipotle. But, it was a nice temporary return to Tex Mex bliss.

I'm trying (and not trying) all sorts of new things. The other day we (the family and I) had a very typical everyday meal - sausages and what is sort of the equivalent of bloodwurst. I learned my lesson from my time in France that I don't want to try a "boudin" again. The phrase at restaurants is "entre le ciel et le terre" (between the sky and the ground) because you put a lighter colored sausage on once side of the plate, a "boudin" on the other, and then potatoes and applesauce in the middle.

Last night we had a pretty typical meal of bread, cheese, and ham/pate. The family I live with thought it was pretty funny one day that I was eating a type of pate - "americain" - because I was, in effect, eating myself. It wasn't bad but I just wasn't very comfortable with the fact that I didn't know what I was eating ... an unidentified pate is practically the same as (if not worse than) the mystery meat in elementary school.

There was another unidentified pate last night of "lievres." They explained it as being close to a rabbit, which we found out was hare meat. It looked like it had - well, I won't even tell you what it looked like. Let's just suffice it to say that this girl, one who SWALLOWED A WORM, didn't try the pate de lievres. The family thought it amusing that Americans don't eat rabbit. All I could think of was little Pepper (our old lop-eared thumper) looking back at me with his protruding bottom teeth and cancer-cut hole in the side of his face. How can you eat something as cute as that?

A few days ago we also went to the same fritterie that I went to when I was here four and a half years ago. Still as good as ever although I do NOT miss fried and processed foods (luckily I didn't make the same mistake by mentioning this and risking the same unfortunate preservatif/condom mix-up of 2005). At the fritterie you wait in line (because it's packed) and pass by a cooler of meat. You pick what you want and request it cooked the way you want (we went for these giant sausages, cut, and deep fat fried). They also have INCREDIBLE french fries and you can pick any number of sauces - we had bechamel (which isn't exactly what you're thinking), americain, and a few others. They love their mayonnaise here.

I've had no waffles, one square of chocolate, and two beers while here. A pathetic showing for the foodie that I am.

Everything is a Process

2007-10-18T09:36:00.001+02:00

I started at the Embassy on Monday morning. Unfortunately, Nicole and I had to leave the house at 6:50 AM. Raise your hand if you regularly see that time of day (much less know that it exists). No hands? That's what I thought.

Paul always gets up in time to get breakfast out (bread, cheese, jelly, nutella, fruit, yogurt, etc.) and have my milk hot and waiting for my hot chocolate. I am CONSTANTLY COLD here - down to the bone. Today I have on three layers and am still not warm. (Yesterday the cold might have been due to the fact that I opened my window for some fresh air but couldn't get it closed again. Thomas, another intern, thought that I was just dumb until he came to my office after lunch and pushed and pushed and pushed until I found the lever to close it. Keeping pumping some iron, Thomas.)

In the mornings I do this back and forth thing while getting ready. I'll work up the courage to get out from under my nice, warm covers and get partially ready and then come running back to bed to warm up. It's a cycle that ends with my hot chocolate (I'm probably drinking straight cream because the concept of skim milk here is not even on the radar). Then Nicole and I get in the (relatively) cold car for a 10 minute drive to Halle where we wait (in the cold) to catch the train.

Ten minutes or so later we're in Brussels. Monday morning I walked across the Parc de Bruxelles up one more street and tried to get onto the American compound. Both ends of the street in front of the Embassy are blocked by large vans, a patrol station for guards, and a barbed wire fence. I showed them my passport and asked for the JAS (Joint Administrative Services) building. I was transferred from guard to guard until the fourth guard told me to go back to the first post.

At the first post they said there was no record of me in the system and they had to call a woman in HR in order for her to escort me around. Needless to say, the rest of the day was spent in a bureaucratic abyss and learning more acronyms than there are people in the world. Both the Director and Deputy Director are gone this week so another man was very kind and helpful in my orientation, however he is in the middle of moving his entire floor of offices this week and, as such, is very busy.

There's really not much more I can say about my job. What is worth mentioning I can't write about so I guess you'll forever have to live in curiosity. I'm becoming more and more acclimated both at the compound and in the city. Only one day of typical Belgian weather (rainy, gray) so far - today looks promising but it's apparently only going to get colder ... oo la la.

15 Hours

2007-10-16T15:25:00.001+02:00

15 Hours was the amount of sleep I got on Saturday night. I had these grand intentions of running a 5K in Brussels but it's a bit of a jaunt for me to get into the city so I decided to just sleep in instead. And WOW - I don't think I've ever slept that much at one time.

Sunday we had another great lunch - pork, pomme de terre gratin (au gratin potatoes but ten thousand times better), etc. and dessert of Pain a la Grecque - a typical Belgian sweet bread type of treat. That afternoon we went with Nicole's mom (who lives in Braine-le-Chateau, the little village nearby) on a walk through the forest and surrounding area. It's really very beautiful - everyone was out with their dogs, kids, horses, etc.

It's a simple life but every time I look around I realize more and more that this is a place I love. How can I not when we have evening tea (made with mint leaves from the garden) on the back patio on a beautiful day?

Two Days, Too Many Facts

2007-10-16T14:49:00.000+02:00

What I love about Belgium is that when I went through Customs, the man just looked at my passport, looked at me, and stamped away.

I met Paul, Nicole, and Oceane (10 years old) Denayer when they picked me up from the airport. (Paul & Nicole met my Aunt and Uncle when they lived in Belgium for six months about 5 years ago. The Denayers kindly offered to let me stay with them when they heard about my situation.) They live "at the edge of the forest" outside of a suburb south west of Brussels.

The drive from the airport was completely picturesque. We're talking rolling hills, autumn colors, falling leaves, roaming animals, and beautiful countryside. I have two rooms and a bathroom on the second floor of the Denayer's house, which is great. It has also been very sunny - great

Nicole made Carbonade Flammande for lunch on Saturday - a type of stew made with Belgian beer (that you then drink with the meal). I must say, for all of you who were encouraging me to try it, this doubter actually does appreciate Belgian beer (raspberry and cherry down - only 298 more flavors to try).

An afternoon trip to the city included:

The Embassy and Parliament buildings
Parc de Bruxelles (which is a large park one block from my building)
The Grand Place and surrounding areas (including Mannekin Pis)
Place de la Monnaie - a shopping district sort of area
Hotel de Ville
The Atomium (although by this time I was napping in the back seat of the car and just barely managed to open my eyes to see it)

We went back to the house for dinner (cheese and bread) and that was Day 1.

The Benefits of Traveling Alone

2007-10-16T14:34:00.000+02:00

My flight from Des Moines to Atlanta breezed by with no problems. In the Atlanta airport I was waiting in line to be seated at a restaurant. There were quite a few people there - all who had made the journey from the back of the line to the hostess' station stating their names and the fact that they were eating alone.

There was a guy next to me who appeared about the same age. We sort of made awkward eye contact - you know, the kind when you do the half-smile and maybe the nod. He said, "How's it going?" Oh, "Not bad, you?" Etc. In short, Davis was a great dinner companion, current student, fellow traveler, and all-around good guy.

The benefits of traveling alone? If I really must list them here goes:

You make friends. Naturally loners are attracted to other loners which result in - you got it - friendships. Or, if nothing else, free dinners (thanks, Davis!) and camaraderie.
You can walk at your own pace. Me? I'm a fast walker. I prefer it - like it even. No holding me back.
There's no necessity for an assessment of differences in priorities - i.e. You don't always have to ask the other person about what they feel like eating or which seat they want or how they're going to dress and then go through the process of neither one wanting to really offend the other or be very honest or make a decision.
You can have an empty seat next to you so when you travel on an eight hour flight, stretch out all you want AND hog the pillows and blankets.

Preparation

2007-10-16T14:24:00.001+02:00

In short, here's what went down during my week of "preparation" as I like to call it (the countdown to my departure).

Tried to see as many people as possible - had, of course, the token session of remembrance with the Double Tripod on the steps of the Old Cap, which unfortunately turned into ...
My cell phone was dropped in some melted ice cream, which resulted in its failure to charge.
I survived my last day in Iowa City sans cell. If anyone knows me, however, they also know that I go through periods of HATING my cell phone and the fact that anyone can get ahold of me at any time. This happened precisely during one of those times so no harm done.

Wednesday, October 10 was my last day at UIAA. Afterwards I drove straight to the Dog Station in Ames to have a truly American Super Dog.

Thursday was busy with errands, losing my purse, finding my purse, shopping, finishing up last-minute details, and packing.

Friday I got up at 5, finished packing (and purging everything that put my bags over weight), and left for the airport with Pops.

Desperate Times call for Desperate Measures

2007-09-10T02:28:00.001+02:00

The last two weeks have been marked by: 1) spontaneity and 2) upheaval.

SPON-TA-NE-I-TY [spon-tuh-ney-i-tee]: the state, quality, or fact of being spontaneous.

My roommate, Shelly, and I were over at our neighbor, Kwesi's, apartment. Kwesi and I had been talking about going fishing so he had some worms in his fridge. He thought it would be funny to wiggle it in my face and then offer $100 to eat a worm. Maybe Kwesi forgot how much money $100 is to a girl who was preparing to live abroad for 10 weeks without an income. 3 seconds and one giant Gatorade later that worm was gone and this girl was RICH!
On a Friday evening around 6 pm my friend Luke (who now lives and works in Louisville, KY) and I were talking and noting how boring our weekends were going to be. Luke said he had a bunch of frequent flyer miles from work. In 12 hours I boarded a plane bound for Louisville. 72 hours later we had: run a 5K in downtown Louisville, gone to the driving range, spent one HECKUVA good time at the Kentucky State Fair, ate all the local favorites including Derby Pie, visited the Louisville Slugger Museum, and spent time on Bardstown Road.
One year in the making, August 28 marked the day I fulfilled another one of the goals on my lifetime list (things I want to accomplish before I die). I cut my hair in order to donate it to Beautiful Lengths. 9 inches later, I had a new 'do worthy of a career-bound girl.
My friend Andy and I took trip to Chi-Town to see the White Sox/Red Sox game. This unplanned jaunt took us to the South Side of Chicago, where we enjoyed great weather, a great game, and, the best of all, great hot dogs.

UP-HEAV-AL [uhp-hee-vuhl]: strong or violent change or disturbance, as in a society

I was offered a job as the Assistant Director of Programs at the University of Iowa Alumni Association. YES, I'M STILL GOING TO BELGIUM. I start tomorrow and work through October 10. I'll leave October 12, work for 5 weeks, see my French family, and come back November 21 in order to go back to work at AA.

All of these changes mean:

My medical insurance expired today (although I'm in the midst of working on that).
I have yet to change my flights (although I've tried three times).
I moved into a different apartment for anywhere from three days to two or three weeks (although I have no bed).
There are more details to think about than is even physically possible (although they're coming together).
I finished my tenure at United Way of Johnson County (although that was planned).

Yes, I am:

Excited about the opportunity.
Thrilled that I have the best of both worlds.
Glad I'm not quite leaving as I wouldn't be ready to go in five days.
A bit surprised that I am still going to be in Iowa City but I love the town and appreciate the fact that I'll be near my family.

Facts of the Day

2007-08-05T19:16:00.000+02:00

Most of us know that Belgium is known for its extraordinary chocolate and beer and that everyone should have mussels in Brussels, but did you know that Belgium was the scene of Napoleon's final defeat (at Waterloo)? Or that brussel sprouts have been grown in the Brussels area for over 400 years (although they are not all currently grown there)? Here are a few fun facts to impress your friends:

Brussels is known as the Capitol of Europe because it where the headquarters of both the European Union and NATO are located.
Ironically, some of the over 400 kinds of beer made in Belgium are produced by Trappist monks.
Belgium's most successful exports include sugar beets, tobacco, beef, and Jean-Claude Van Damme.
A recent UN poll voted Belgium the fifth best country to live on in the entire planet.
As only one of three countries classified by the European Community as a "manure surplus" region, Belgium produces more than its land can absorb.
Henry Morton Stanley was commissioned by King Leopold II to obtain what became known as the Congo Free State (eventually Democratic Republic of Congo).
In one year, Belgium will produce 172,000 tons of chocolate.

Facts courtesy of: www.worldinfozone.com and www.news.bbc.co.uk