February 25, 2003 : Laramie

The people came in today to check on everything and I first heard them as they were climbing around on the roof. I didn't actually see them, I heard them. First I heard their walking about, and then I saw their shadows. I was expecting working-man types, men with hammer/construction belts and pain on their jeans. But what I saw on the roof was well-dressed men in suits and ties. The typical look of what Americans think of when they think of European businessmen. You know the type, well-dressed, smallish glasses. There's something that sets them apart from your average American businessman. (my opinion)

Regardless, I don't know if it was insurance claim people, construction supervisors, or what. I'm thinking one of the men was the owner of the house next door, and the less-suited man was the boyfriend of our landlady, but there seemed to be two additional well-dressed types, and soon they were knocking on my door, and marveling at how dry it was in our apartment.

"Why there's no leaks here at all. It's perfectly dry in here," one man noted scanning the walls in the 'bedroom/library' and our 'kitchen/dining/livingroom/office.'

"Yes." I said. I suppose I should have told them about the minuscule leak we have around our toilet basin. But it's not that prominent.

I spend the rest of the afternoon, fixing up the Little Green Men Project. It's a long download, but I think then end result was what I was going for, so in that respect, it gets a gold star.

Before I left for school, I had Eva email me a note to give to my teacher, describing my reasons for absences as of late:

Beste leerkracht van Andrea,

Met dit schrijven zou ik U willen vragen Andrea te verontschuldigen voor haar afwizigheid tijdens de drie laatste lessen. De kwestie zit zo.

Vorige week maandag stond Andrea op het punt te vertrekken (zoals gewoonlijk met een erg kleine marge), en kwam plots tot de constatatie dat ze haar sleutel niet meer vond. Ons huis is onververdeeld in verschillende appartementen, en het is de gewoonte de gemeenschappelijke voordeur telkens op slot te doen.
Kortom, maandag zat Andrea gevangen in haar eigen huis.

Dinsdag besloot ze het zekere voor het onzekere te nemen en met haar scooter naar de les te komen in plaats van met de tram. Het obstakel van maandag - de
voordeur- vormde dinsdag geen probleem. Helaas, eenmaal tot bij haar voertuig geraakt merkte Andrea dat ze deze keer de sleutel van het hangslot van de scooter niet vond. Vandaar dat ook ze dinsdag afwezig was.

De reden van Andrea's afwezigheid gisteren is in vergelijking met de andere dagen ietwat voorspelbaarder. Ze voelde zich namelijk niet honderd procent, en dacht met haar hardnekkige hoest en andere verkoudheidssymptomen beter thuis te blijven.

Vandaag luistert ze echter weer wel uw les op en vroeg mij nederig te vragen of er misschien taken zijn die ze hoort in te halen, die zal ik dan samen met haar
maken.

Alvast bedankt.

Eva

PS. Ik laat zo snel mogelijk een extra sleutelbos voor Andrea bijmaken die aan een speciale 'Les Nederlands - haak' zal komen te hangen.

My teacher appreciated the effort, and chuckled over my problems from last week, then we settled in for class. Apparently some numbers had dwindled and a teacher quit, so our class has blossomed to a class of relatively large proportions. (Around 15-20) And, as usual, we all got along really well. I was put with Mouloud (his name wasn't Mohamed after all) and we had a great time working on little in-class projects together. During the 'pauze' he and I talked in Dutch about all sorts of things. He's studying some sort of Comparative Religion course somewhere in town (in English, Dutch and French) and in Morocco, he worked at an architecture firm doing CAD work and drawings. He also wrote articles for a paper there, but the paper turned right-wing-conservative, so they no longer accepted his views or his articles.

The teacher came out and asked him, "why are you studying that?"

And he said, "For myself."

Before she had come out, I told him that I had been looking for some good information about Islam. He was quick to point out that he was not Muslim and I was quick to point out that when I was raised a Christian but I didn't really feel that I was anymore.

Funny how two people who don't really speak the same language can talk about all sorts of things in broken dialog, eh?

I also relayed the story of the missing sleutals...and the teacher helped me find a way to tell Mouloud that he was a 'troublemaker' in class...but the kind who is fun to be around. The teacher agreed.

After class I stayed behind to talk to her about my dream end-of-year-project that deals with integration and my experiences here in Belgium. She loved the idea and told me to write it all out and we could present it to the head of the school.

What's funny is that as I was walking out of school I briefly thought, "it would be nice if Eva met me here some day." I know that sounds ridiculous in respect to the fact that as I left the school, there she was waiting for me. But I had actually though that. Albeit a brief though lodged somewhere behind the fact that I was hungry and the dutch/french word for billfold.

I didn't immediately think anything was wrong. And then she said, "You know...I just want to let you know that I love you."

"What's wrong? What has happened?" I said back. It wasn't that she doesn't say this often already, but it was the way she said it.

She got home, checked the email, and I received an email from the head of the Art Department in Laramie that tells me that "someone else was a better 'fit'."

So wow, I didn't get it. Not exactly bricks falling on my head. But one of those, "Oh my god, I'm a complete failure." sort of realizations. It's not so much that I'm a failure, it's more along the lines that everything seemed so perfect with Eva going to school there. I knew the inexperience would haunt me. But it's so strange. Basically it was a big blow to both of us.

We rode around town on the tram not saying much, and not really looking at each other. Inside my head I was trying to work out what steps we should do now, in light that Eva's applications, to whatever schools I continue to try to apply to, will be grossly late. My heads on fire with guilt and embarrassment and shock, and Eva's doing the best thing possible. Just being there.

So of course I cried when I got home. I decided I was going to tell anyone right off, but that I wanted to work out our next steps/other plans in relation to us know. It's not that I was overly certain, we had just started dreaming about what our life would be like in a one-horse town. How we'd relate to each other in light of the air and space. And I had gone to sleep every night thinking about cool projects for graphic design students.

So, back to the drawing board. Regardless of location, it seems that Eva'll be going to school and I'll be trying to work somewhere whether it be here in Belgium, or at locations dotting the US. The Laramie Project (pun) would have solved all of our answers in one go--I suppose life shouldn't be so easy.

IN THE NEWS:
Bobbie Jo Wehner turned 31 today. And I'm such a shmuck that, even after she told me last night, I still had forgotten by the time I woke up this morning. And then she reminded me again this evening. Oh well. I'll remember next year Bobbie, I promise!