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April 01, 2003 : an april fool
I certainly qualify. I used to be somewhat graceful, but now I find myself completely lacking. I'm supprised I haven't switched to a complete collection of velcro shoes so I don't trip over my own laces or maybe only tapered pants so my pant-legs don't get caught in my bike chain. Apparently the bio-bag-trash-truck-people decided (yet again) to play an april fool's day joke on us. It doesn't matter where we put it (our bio bag) at least once every six weeks or so it's still there when we get home. Bio bags are bad enough after sitting on our kitchen shelf for a week, so retrieving rotting biodegradable rotting trash from the sidewalk isn't a very welcome event. I know we'll end up bringing it back in, though Eva declared that this time we're just going to "leave it." It's gross either way--besides the fact that it makes me feel that our neighbors are going to think that we put the bag out too late on a Tuesday morning! There were many chances for real april fool's day jokes. I could have told Eva that I had made a scrumptous breakfast and then not have made it...or perhaps set the clocks an hour later so she'd think she was late only to find she had an hour more to rest and eat the scrumptous breakfast I hadn't made. However, I didn't. It was a common early-spring day in belgium complete with scatter showers and chill. As Eva and I have figured that we're growing up, as we now use umbrellas, when I headed to school I grabbed the black umbrella (How we ended up with it, I'm not quite sure. We rarely buy umbrellas unless we have to and we oftentimes lose them somewhere in the process of living.) and headed to Little Debbie who was parked particularly well in a great location. It was my first chance to use the window-wipers, defrost, rear defrost, and rear wipers--and I was so very impressed with the rear-wiper! We may not have a passenger-side rear-view mirror, but we have a rear-windshield wiper! How cool! I even managed to figure out how to use the rear-window-spray. It's not really a spray, more of a ooze or a trickle. It's much like the spilling of windshield-wiper-fluid from a coffeecup I left on top of the car. But still, it's cool. At school I found another suitable parking place and headed into school. I was running a bit late, nothing traumatic, but enough that it was disappointing. When I got to the room, however, only two people were there. The philipino woman and the polish woman. Was THIS an april fool's joke? We mulitplied to an additional Morrocan guy and myself. Finally a teacher from another class came in to let us know that Lut, our teacher, was sick. Was THIS an april fool's joke? Apparently not. The Polish girl left a note on the board that said, "Lut is ziek" and I drew a box of Kleenex. Moulad also arrived and the 5 of us decided to just head back to our respective homes and start the Easter vacation a bit earlier. I also planned with Moulad to meet him on Friday at the library in Antwerp. How I've managed to undepress myself since last fall without leaving the house very often still, well that's still a mystery to me. However meeting with him and our going over our Dutch will be great for my un-depression, social life, and mijn tweede taal. I came home with the best april fool's ever. Not really a foolish thing, but just a surprise. I had the most difficult time parking the car, but finally I was climbing the stairs, unlocking the door and revealing myself to the girl opening the door. Who was, consequently, quite surprised! We settled in for the night with stir-fry and curry sauce made from yesterday's goldmine free leftovers from Leila and Susan. After dinner we got cought up in a documentary on tv about a 15 year old black kid who was completely unfairly charged for killing a woman in an armed robbery attempt. We were so cought up in it and so leary of the outcome (after all, it's a documentary and quite possibly it wouldn't end the way we wanted) that we edged closer in our seats. It ended well, we were quite relieved that justice could somehow prevail, and we headed to bed. IN THE NEWS: ALSO IN THE NEWS:
April 02, 2003 : night with liesbet
Today I met with Steven to talk about my end-of-year-project. It wasn't a stressful meeting, as it was simply us talking over the ideas. We've decided that my journal will be the red-thread that ties it all together, though it will eventually have an additional form as well. When I got home, I checked the mail and had a letter from the city of Antwerp (central bibliotheek) that said (what I could make of it) that they were going to take away my library that I had a 36 Euro fine for 2 cds Eva and I had checked out several months ago and had consequently not listened to. I was a bit stressed anyway about Lisa (Eva's last girlfriend) coming over partly due to the fact that A) I didn't know she had been to our house before B) she's a good cook and I was cooking and C) it was just a bit stressful in general. In Del Haize, buying the stuff to make the great American enchiladas (American being loosely interpreted as the Americas), Eva tells me that my enchiladas are better with store-bought enchilada sauce (which we can't buy here) and actually that Liesbet's Thai is better than mine. (longish story) The first bit was a small blow, as I have made every effort to replace the items from home with items from Belgium. The second, however, was just a stab in general during a very heated discussion about food in general. We had a silent car-ride home and almost canceled, but decided to go through with it because we had A) promised a friend B)didn't want it to completely ruin our evening and C) we had enough food to make twice as many enchiladas as normal. When we get inside, Eva reads the letter from Stad Antwerpen and it really means that if I pay my fine now, I don't have to give up my card. Yay! We go on to pick Lisa up at her new apartment (which is consequently quite close to our house) and bring her back to our place. She brings along two bottles of red wine: Bergerac 2001 (purple label) and it was extremely delicious. I made guacamole while they went to the videotheek to rent a film for the evening--once again my only request is that it not me One Hour Photo. (which thankfully Lisa said that she had seen it and that it was a horrible film) When they come back with Ya Ya Sisterhood, I start making dinner. An hour later, het is gedaan. (it's finished) and we start in on the wine and the eating of the decent enchiladas. We start talking about eating habits and the size of my pants and Liesbet is somewhat shocked when Eva returns from our clothes-pile with a pair of my jeans. Yes, they do seem somewhat large when one compares them to "normal-sized" pants or overlay them on Eva's tiny-waisted ones. Maybe we really will start a diet soon. We settled in to watch the movie and by the time it was finished, I decided that although I was not drunk, I should not be driving Debbie under the current conditions. Eva whined a bit at this (which was a bit surprising as she rarely whines and certainly not when it comes to driving under the influence!) I was glad that Liesbet didn't live so far away, as her last residence was considerably further. She headed home and we headed to bed, another night well spent. (And it's not even the weekend yet! it's a weeknight!) IN THE NEWS: ALSO IN THE NEWS: AND FINALLY:
April 03, 2003 : once again, the bike
Ah freedom without a scooter. It is spelled out in four letters. B-I-K-E. Today it wasn't the warmest of days. In light of yesterday's letter requesting I return the grossly-overdue CDs, I decided to make an afternoon of it (sort of) and return the CDs on bike. I headed to the bank only to find my bottom-dollar a very bottom Euro. So low in fact that I couldn't get any money out and certainly not the 30 some Euro I was supposed to get out. Instead, I figured on salvaging the day with a bike-ride. To be honest, I had misjudged the weather a bit. It wasn't warm or cold and the wind was misleading. Out of the wind, it was fairly warm, with the wind and behind a cloud, it was quite chilly. I had on my more wintry coat and my stocking cap and scarf and a half-hour into the ride I was worried that people would mistake my face of exertion as a face of mild pain and/or trauma. (red-faced!) I loosed my scarf and removed the hat and unbuttoned my jacket a bit. But like I said, it's hard to find a happy medium in a spring day half-warm and half-cold. I went down roads I have traveled time and time again and also snaked down alleys I've never seen before. I noticed places perfect for my end-of-year show and made mental notes of places to show Eva. I've come to the conclusion that inner-city travel is best done on two wheels and if one is on a bike, best done on a non-windy day. The wind is quite a deterrent and when it's sweeping down streets it seems to always be holding you back. One one particular street I passed a little old man walking with a cane carrying his grocery bag in one hand. I did something I try not to do which is the same as not doing something I usually want to do. He was obviously struggling a bit, shuffling one foot at a time, and for a brief moment I said to myself, "you should stop and ask if he needs help." The next flash brought me to the thought, "well this is probably how he walks now, and maybe he's simply excited that he can get out at all, so maybe it's best not to ask him." So I kept riding along. At the end of the street I turned back around and then he was just standing there, as if the moment I had passed, his burden had simply become too great, that his shuffling no longer worked. "Come on Andrea, keep riding, it's ok. If something is wrong someone else will take care of it." And further down the street (a particularly rare, straight street in Antwerp) and still he was standing there frozen with his arms at his side. It wasn't as if he was standing there doing anything in particular. There are some people that can roll a roll-your-own cigarette with one hand and still walk at the same time (I've seen it done.) but he was just standing there. And then the street turned a bit. What lingers about the moment is not that I didn't a guy that perhaps needed help. It wasn't the language barrier that crossed my mind. The whole point is that I just didn't ask. He might have certainly said something I didn't understand, but most people can make out a friendly gesture and smile it off. I should have at least stopped. On the way home I was almost knocked onto the sidewalk by a car, and other than that it was a pretty uneventful (thankfully) ride. I've come up with an idea about recording my bike rides (something I hope to start doing more once the weather turns all-around beautiful) and perhaps if I act on this concept I'll take the interactive step, until then, I'm just going to ride on the bike-the-bike-the-bike. Once again, if you haven't, please download Amy Correia's The Bike. IN THE NEWS: ALSO IN THE NEWS:
April 04, 2003 : library and outfitting brother
IN BRIEF FORM: - The dreaded 30+ Euro fine for the two library cds ended up only being 5 Euro! - We spent 5 hours studying our Dutch and going over our huiswerk for the passvacantie (easter holiday and/or spring-break) - We did really well with our lessons and only ran into 3 or 4 really mind-blowing issues that the two of us couldn't figure out. Hebben of Zijn? At these moments I got up and asked any native speaker that happened to be browsing at books near to our table. The "native speaker" always tended to think it cute that I was asking as well as learning their language. -After studying, I agreed to go to one of his favorite cafes for a beer. We wound up at the Caveau bar (the one I like but Eva hates) for a round of drinks. I thought it was hysterical that he likes this bar as well. Almost everyone we know knows which one we're talking about when we say, "it's huge and really open" and by the "bus stops" and most everyone agrees with Eva about it's bizarre qualities. He and I talked over all sorts of things with only the language we have between us (Dutch) and the occasional transparent word in French to fill in the very finer details. We discussed communism, the chasm between the rich and poor, socialist virtues in Belgium, a bit of capitalism, and the war. He doesn't mind the war so much because it's made people think about other things whereas before people would have been uninterested. Good point and point taken. - The two of us part ways and I get back to the house just in time to have Jasper show up and the two of us ride to Mechelen to pick up Eva. - Jasper was going to a dress-up dinner for his club at university and since Joris took the only suit the two of them have between them to Switzerland, well we had to get a new one. He wanted Eva to go with him because then it would guarantee he was getting something that would look really nice. - We headed to Wijnegem Shopping Center because it's a concentrated shopping center and easily accessible by car. We head in the wrong direction and at a stoplight I roll down my window and simply asked, "Waar is Wijnegem Shopping Center?" To which the lady says something in return and points in the opposite direction. - 20 minutes later we're there and headed directly to H&M where we promptly find the most perfect outfit. And while we're at it I tell Jasper he's getting a new gray shirt as well. And while we're at it, a really nice tie. (the last time we saw him dressed up, he was wearing a tie with a Looney Toons character on it.) The three of us head to the dressing room where he tries on the outfit and the pants are obviously a bit small. However, with the next size of pants, the tie tied (he didn't know how to tie it, and after years of practice when I was younger, am I a lesbian or what? I'm somewhat of a pro) and the buttons in a straight line down to his buckle, well he looked like a new person. (Eva was a bit impressed and sort of gave off the I'm-his-older-sister-vibe that she was pleased with him!) - I tried on a pair of capri linen pants and had they not been capri I would have most certainly bought them. The shortness only added to a squattiness look I'm certainly not going for. - Back in the car and now on toward the part of Antwerp where harbor meets city. His shin-dig was happening on a eating/drinking/festive dock-side boat and en-route, I pulled into a deserted parking lot above the highway and we prepped him. Eva un-snipped his tacked pockets and I tied his tie. Finally he was ready to go and after a bit of searching, a bit of luck, and a bit of jaw-rattling cobblestone, we pulled in next to the Diamond Princess and dropped Jasper off right on time. (in fact a bit early) - As we were pulling away, I must say that the clucky Eva and I (clucky being some new terminology I wasn't previously aware of meaning wanting-to-have-babies) remarked that having a boy might be a fun. Especially if he'd have such fun uncles as Joris, Jasper, and Sebastian would make. And if we had anything to do with it, he'd certainly be well-dressed. :) IN THE NEWS:
April 05, 2003 : bliss in the form of an auto
Bliss shouldn't rely on having a car. Bliss shouldn't rely on having transportation at all. Bliss lies in moments when everything seems to be going well, whether it's temporary or more necessary, but today it took the form of lil' Debbie. Eva and I woke several times this morning, as Eva turned the alarm to snooze for at least an hours worth of consecutive 5-minute intervals. Finally we had both had enough as the repetitive alarms make us both grumpy, and we rose to face a brand new day. First on our list was the Lunch Garden and it's best-deal-for-breakfast breakfast. Apparently it used to be a better deal back when it was in Belgian Francs, and as most things have increased a bit over time and rounded up (to say the least) it's still quite a steal. Eva decided that we should buy some champagne, strawberries and fresh cream and head to Broechem to surprise her mother and toast to having the new car. So after our purchases of the aforementioned products and 99 cent 40 pack of coffee-filters (a minor discussion about which is better, a reusable filter or a biodegradable paper one we can throw into the bio bag, which we chose the latter) we headed in the direction of her mother's place. We consequently woke her (we think) and after touring the place and it's new inhabitants (her mother has sublet part of her house) we've decided that we really should become small-scale farmers ourselves! (If you could only see the color of the earth here! No rocks and brown soil to this particular Missourian looks to be heaven) We even talked about the possibility of refurbing a whole other section of the house and making an apartment for Eva and I if, in fact, I get legal status to live here after October and the two of us want a more sedentary location. Once again, the wind seemed a bit fierce. Out of the wind, the sun was warm and the day beyond pleasant. After our small snack of berries and champagne, Eva and I set to trying out our 7 Euro bike-rack. We know now why it was 7 Euro. It's the same 40 dollar Wal-Mart version I have back in the states for my Metro. It's not that this version was faulty, it's because the directions were as good as rubbish. As I have the same exactly bike-rack with different clips, I knew how it was supposed to fit on the car, but the clips were a definite mystery. The diagram was useless. We could only imagine how many such racks exist in Belgium (since people here don't tend to return products once they've opened them) and then finally we figured it all out and are so impressed with the quality that we wish we had weeks of weekends at our disposal. We grabbed one of the many bikes from Rita's garage, strapped it on, and took a tour around the neighborhood. The farmer that helped us put on the license plate was outside and waved a friendly wave and gave us a thumbs up. We returned to the house, removed the rack, replaced the bike, said our goodbyes, and hit the road. It was only mid-day. Where should we go? We chose Geel. We snaked all over the countryside, we ended up going through any number of cities, Aarschot where we stopped to walk around the city and have coffee, Retie, Herselt, and Mol. Outside of Mol we ended up at Postel, a monastery from the 1600s where they brew their own beer. It's in the middle of nowhere and in the center of a nature reserve all decked out with bike-trails for as far as the eye can see. (oh yes, we'll return! with our tent and bikes!) Just when I've almost decided that Belgian cities are located so close to each other that it's almost hard to tell one from the other, just when I've almost decided that there's not a nice scenic, rustig (rustic and calming) road in the whole of Flanders, we stumble upon our route today. What bliss! Our car still may be radio-less, but Eva and I didn't seem to mind. Nothing could change the fact that we were moving at something just under the speed of light (relative to other vehicles) and tasting a bit of life I was once quite accustomed to and Eva had learned to appreciate in the States, a bit of the world neither of us had seen (new cities for Eva as well, not all of them, but at least Aarschot) and simply a bit of life we certainly had not experienced thus far together in Belgium. In Postel we stopped for a bite to eat. Though our meals were common (spaghetti and lasagna) our time there was quite enjoyable. We ended with a parting coffee with slagroom (whipped cream) and snaked our way back to Antwerp, losing the green highway signs twice, passing dozens of packed frituurs, before ending back on the E34 and it's orange lights having barely burning and just turned on. By the time we got back the orange lights were truly giving light instead of glowing and after circling twice, we parked the car, cleaned out the loose papers we had accumulated in the day, and walked home. I had to pick up my pace a bit due to a bought of minor (I think common-food induced) diarrhea and we settled in for a night of computer and reruns of Ter Zake while we tried on our 1.75 Euro massaging shoe insoles. Yes, I must say it was a day of bliss. And as long as Debbie keeps running, I keep avoiding other traffic and obstacles while driving, and Eva has spare time in her weekends, I think many days of bliss will follow. WHAT HAPPENED IN THE REST OF THE WORLD WHILE WE WERE LIVING IN BLISS: AND:
April 06, 2003 : on a diet, searching for hotdogs
We hadn't planned anything for the day. In an effort to un-stress our lives, we're trying to have more mentally free weekends and less long discussions about the pressures about October. I suppose this wasn't a conscious effort, as it just so happens that the last two weekends have been low-stress and really enjoyable (what weekends are supposed to be) and I suppose it's do in a large part because of the car. I don't want to put to much pressure on Debbie, as the more we blame our good times on the car the more apt it is to remove itself from the picture. I think we learned that with Gretta the scooter. I keep blaming myself for her demise and the fact that I suggested we park it over by the library. The pee wasn't my fault, but I daresay the fact that someone could pee inside her tank down a small alley, well that was my idea. We actually ended up puttering around the house a bit before heading out for a very brief bike-ride to the park by us where the city of Antwerp (neighborhood) was having a party to celebrate the returning of a very old landmark. We had hoped they'd have hotdogs. Its not in my diet actually, but it was Eva's suggestion (the hotdog, not the diet) and so if she wants to give a somewhat dieting girl a chance at a hotdog, well I'll take it. They didn't have hotdogs. They only had De Koninck beer, tables, a folk-music band, and compared to the weather we had a few weeks ago, today might as well have been freezing. We had brought our baseball gloves along as well and decided that it was just too cold to throw the ball around. Besides, it's a small park with quite a few people and throwing a baseball around isn't so common. We decided to bike on a bit and had coffee in a cafe I've been meaning to have coffee in for quite some time. We sat there for 10 minutes before anyone waited on us. Eva was sure they were doing this to us because we're young. I was sure they were doing this because the place was packed (granted, packed with slightly older people) and there was only 1 server and 1 lady behind the bar. We had originally wanted to get drinks and two soups, as most soup prices wouldn't break the bank. But as I have mentioned, this was no ordinary cafe, and the servings were huge along with salad and bread, so we stuck to our coffee and milkshake. Behind Eva there was a group of 3 old ladies. (old because they were typically old, all wearing dress-up skirt and jacket suits, and had the blue-gray-white hair older people in the modern western world all seem have.) I was very intrigued by them and was thankful I wasn't sitting where Eva was sitting because she couldn't see them at all. The were gossiping and huddling close together to talk about the latest news. One lady appeared to be a bit hard of hearing and the table was so far apart she practically laid on the table trying to catch every word. One lady was having a coffee, another a tea, and the last a big beer. I don't know that I've ever seen an older lady in the states drinking a beer. Two were non-smoking and one was smoking a cigarette. (not the one drinking the beer.) It seemed so out-of-the-ordinary to me. It was like the ladies on the bus-route my dad does to pick up ladies for church, only these were just as church-dressed only sitting in a cafe drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. I suppose it was yet another one of my realizations where just like Dorthy, in The Wizard of Oz says, "I'm not in Kansas anymore." Well I'm not in Missouri anymore, that's for sure. And I don't think I'm in San Francisco either. IN THE NEWS:
April 07, 2003 : salad-bars
Since we now have Debbie (the car) it's actually much cheaper for me to go and see Eva for lunch these days. At around 5 Euro or more for every trip to Nekkerspoel and back it's cheaper to go by car. So I did. I was starving by the time I got there, and ready for lunch. Eva promptly came outside and a few minutes later Jenneka came out as well. Every workplace seems to have groups that go out to lunch together. Jenneka and Eva make up one of these groups, and since I occasionally come as well, I suppose I complete their group. The ATM was out, so we headed to Pizza hut for their overpriced personal pan pizza and one trip to the salad bar combo. Eva's not crazy about pizza or cheese, and she actually chose the cheesiest of the options. I chose pepperoni. I can't eat at Pizza Hut anymore without thinking of two things. First and foremost, the Pizza Hut in Marshfield, Missouri and all of the memories it holds for me and the Tastee-Freeze turned Pizza Hut in Buffalo, Missouri and all of the memories it holds. (Namely the latter holds more recent memories and my parent's love for its all-you-can-eat lunch buffet which is literally a steal it's so cheap.) The second thought is of Eva's retelling me a story from Paraguay and how her host family told her they were taking her someplace special that had just opened up. They called it "Pizzah Huh" slurred together in a way that made it unrecognizable as the well-known brand. This makes us both chuckle. I daresay this was my first salad bar purchase that saw me loading up my salad plate with just as much salad as anyone else. It wasn't made up of typically American salad-bar fixings, a lot of potato-salad type dishes as well as a very nice assortment of loose-leaf options as well as olives, eggs, and pickles. No croutons, bacon-bits, or cheese. Regardless, I considered it a wild success. We ate our pizza and as usual, time flew by. I was eager to have a coffee before we parted ways, but they both seemed intent on getting back to work. (It's that Belgian work ethic masked over a bit by simply being prudent.) I came home and continued to work on applicable things just minding my time until Eva was to arrive. I couldn't do much in respect to food preparations or tiny surprises for Eva due to the fact that I am currently dirt-poor. When she finally arrived, we barely had enough time to eat dinner before biking to Het Roze Huis to talk about the current issue and next issue of De Magneet. Sometimes I struggle during these meetings a bit. It's really good for my Dutch, and if I can force myself to concentrate for 2 hours, I can understand most of it and interject occasionally in English. Today I managed to concentrate for about an hour and then my mind started to wonder. I thought about all sorts of things; how to put a stereo into our car, how it had turned so cold outside, how much I like my bicycle, the scooter that is sitting in Eva's mother's garage with brand new tires, freelance projects, using some of the Pink House's space for my end-of-year, and growing old. The later isn't so much growing old as it is birthday I suppose they go and in hand, and though Eva has done every effort to remind me of it's approaching fact, (this Thursday) I can't help but overlook it and count it as yet another day. Or is it? When I think of 27 it sounds so much older than 25, but in respect to 26, well it's not all that bad at all. Any day now I'll get to hear my mother's recitation about the day that I was born and I'm not trying to make light of it at all. It's tradition, and I daresay I'd miss it if she didn't. So this is my birthday week, if I was a kid, I'd definitely be counting down the days. And since I'd like to still be a kid at heart, there are only 3 more. IN THE NEWS:
April 08, 2003 : witnesses and den ijzer
Mid-afternoon, my doorbell rang just as it usually does when the witnesses come by. One friendly ring followed by another. I was dressed in only boxer shorts and a t-shirt and did what I usually do when my doorbell rings unexpectedly. I just sit there. Once my curiosity gets hold of me I look out the window into the reflection of my front door in the window across the street. It's not the most accurate way to do it, but it's better than leaning my head out the window and risk being spotted. It just so happens that this time around I looked out the window to the reflection of Eva's brothers. They started moving away so I ran to our bay window, opened it, leaned out and yelled at them! "I thought you were the witnesses, Joris and Jasper!" They also had a package for me in their hands, presumably taken out of the letterbox that I immediately knew whom it was from. Kathleen. I quickly added bra and jeans to my outfit/ensemble while they were coming up the stairs. Jasper had come to collect his old outfit from last Friday and Joris came by to print off some things he needed to mail. Are we used and abused? I don't mind and I wouldn't care anyway! Joris and Eva are going to file for their English passports soon and after Jasper went away I thanked Joris for prodding Eva along as well. She looked into getting her English passport last year, and for some reason it seemed a bit difficult. But if both of them do it at the same time, well it shouldn't be that hard with each other rooting the other on. I can't imagine Eva would sit there and let her brother get one before she does! (It's probably me adding that bit of sibling rivalry, after all, he's the one that's going to end up a diplomat and Eva, well we have no idea what she's going to end up being/doing. If the palm-reader was right 2 years ago, she's got a future in sports!) I spent the rest of the afternoon listening to the cds Kathleen had sent to me (Audio High, Hip-Hop Mix Yo, and Andrea's Juicy Mix) not snacking and figuring out a few more things for bracketland greetings. One has to miss friends like Kathleen. I miss her more than I realize and it didn't take long to be reminded just how special she is and how far away she is at the same time. I suppose that's what we get when one takes off for LA to live out her dream and the other headed in the other direction to start on her's. If Kathleen happens to read this, I miss you! Come visit me! As it neared the time that Eva was going to arrive, I readied the house. I'm trying to get better about having the house in a "nice state" when she arrives. I suppose it's taken me 2 years to realize that perhaps that's my half of the bargain. (though I'd rather take the other half any day!) While I was just tidying up the place, Eva calls me to let me know that she's celebrating/mourning the departure of one of her colleagues and they're getting a bit carried away with the pintjes. I told her that it didn't matter, and that I'd be here whenever she decided to come home. 5 beers later and a half-hour train ride...well I started walking and met her half-way. She was goofy tipsy. We got some money out and walked to the fry place. We had at 't Smullerke (just up the street) and it's no wonder that it's supposedly one of the best in Antwerp. We never have fries super-fresh because we always bring them home. Yum! Fritjes...well...come to Belgium and you'll find out what I mean! After our fries we went to Den Ijzer, a cafe next door, and had a couple more beers. Actually, it was my first beers of the day, but Eva's 6th and 7th. If that sounds like a lot, well it's not that many especially if you've got starchy fries in your stomach. Den Ijzer plays the best music and we sat there and visited over our pintjes and sorted out our list of problems/ideas/ourselves. Nothing drastic or anything, just the same ol' things. Suddenly the music changed to war-themed music, complete with Boudewijn de Groot's - Meneer De President and Pearl Jam's rendition of Bob Dylan's Masters of War. We wrote several of the songs down on a coaster that we incidentally left there, but when we got home we managed to write several of them down again. It's great to have such a nice cafe so close. It's the same one we went to with Jennifer, Jasper, Nichole, Eva and myself back when they were here. I suppose it's like the "little Parisian cafe" which has great food and isn't so expensive but somehow we always overlook it. That restaurant, the frituur, and this cafe are on in a row but still we tend to trek a bit further. Here's to remembering next time. Oh, and by the way, only 2 days left until my verjaardag! IN THE NEWS: AND ALSO:
April 09, 2003 : installing a hillbilly engineered stereo
That's especially for my father. He's the king of making something work which might not work otherwise. If you could only see the cab he made for his last tractor which made it warm in the winter and with the doors-off, cool in the summer. He made self-closing gates with pulleys and levers and the famous arm-rest out of wood for my Geo Metro. (by the way, dad, can we have the rights to make a new one for Lil' Debbie? Or maybe I can send you the dimensions and you can make one for us. But it needs to be painted brown instead of the silver/gray interior of the Metro.) Today I woke up a bit late. Not quite as early as what I previously told Eva. (our little secret) In the afternoon, as I was burning daylight, I hopped on my bike, headed to the bank, and then headed into town to MediaMarkt. I had come up with the plan of taking a set of computer speakers and fixing them in our car somehow and running the power out of the cigarette lighter. That way we could plug in any sort of player into the speakers, mp3 player, radio, cd player, mp3-cd player...etc. I actually think it might even take a microphone! (But that's a little ridiculous!) Well at MediaMarkt, I tested and listened. I bargain hunted and shopped around. I was the silly person in front of the speakers comparing one to the other as if they all sound really different. (I wasn't getting out of the 20 Euro range) Finally I chose one and took it along with my cigarette-lighter-power-adapter and paid. I rode home as fast as I could so I could install my hillbilly-engineered stereo system. For right now I've duct-taped the speakers (they are a very flat model, perfect for this use) to the extreme corners of the car dashboard and the wires are hidden behind the plastic undercover of the dash. Everything comes together in a little piece that sits in the ash-tray and the player of choice sits conveniently in the spot where a radio would ordinarily go. It's way cool. And was only 35 Euro complete with installation. :) Eva called to let me know she was at the station but begged for me to let her come home to use the toilet before we headed to get groceries. I told her there was no way I was letting her go to the bathroom before I showed her my surprise. I picked her up and as soon as she sat down she grinned from ear to ear. The sound? Well it's nearly perfect. Now we only want to paint the speakers brown to go with our interior and attach them in a more fashionable manner. Regardless, this less-permanent manner will work for now. Let me assure you that music and cars are not really THAT important, but this opens yet another realm of new roadtripping possibilities. Cool. At Carrefours we had a perfect shopping adventure which included a couple of birthday treats--nacho cheese dip and tiger nuts. We also found out that my adapter that I bought today was cheaper there than MediaMarkt. I wouldn't have thought it possible, as MM has been the absolute cheapest by far in all of our price-comparisons to date. We're half-way convinced we should return it and pocket the 7 Euro difference. (We won't. We're too happy with our current radio set-up with also doubles as a phone-charger and flash-light plugin!) At home Eva began counting down the hours until my birthday. I told her there was still another several hours after it turned the correct time here, but she'd hear nothing of it. I busied myself making dinner (steak and veggie casserole with broccoli and cream sauce) while Eva napped on the couch. It ended up being the best casserole we've had yet. (I don't know whether to believe her in light of last week's Del Haize episode, but she looked convincing when she said "it's delicious!") After dinner I had decaf coffee and she had herbal tea, she took a shower and I did dishes, and then we listened to the news on the BBC radio about how the Coalition troops had basically taken over Baghdad. Looting and such and Iraqis yelling, "Bush! Bush!" in praise. I'm still torn, to be honest. It's one thing to help out a people, but it's another to enter and destroy a country in the cover of saving your own. So as the minutes click down to b-day, historic events have transpired, not only today but in the course of a year. I suppose I'll continue it for another round in the great 27th year. I'm sure it will be a great one. In the words of my dossier for the project of "the 26th year" I have promised myself that this year will be a year of doing, and it has already seen a productive beginning. This project is the umbrella, just as labels, holidays, literature, and facts and figures will worm their way in. I have already experienced loss with the death of my Grandmother, the day and the hour I wrapped up my first entry. Realities such as these are the bits that will spurn artworks themselves…not any desire on my own to learn Flash or to take up pen and brush again So that's what it has proven to be. And now I've done it. There are still holes to fill, but the experience of having very distant people sneek a peak into my life and offer tidbits of their own lives as well as the experience itself of having recorded an entire year of my life down in text form, well it's been wonderful. Though mildly censored at times, subtracting left cigarette packets, fights between my significant other and myself, trials and tribulations with friends, it's basically all there, complete with a war's beginning, and the day of it's being considered a "success". Here's to the 27th year. Jam packed with tragedy and successes. October will roll around eventually, and by then we'll know just what and where we'll be living in the coming year. Summer will roll around and we'll hopefully see parts of Europe I've only dreamed about. Friends will stop by that have been meaning to stop by for some time. And my Dutch? Well I'm planning on its getting better and better. IN THE NEWS:
April 10, 2003 : the birthday.
Pictures do more than words in many cases, and so I must, at this moment in time, share few words. Eva got up pretty late and sped off to work. Last night at Carrefours, we had purchased many a birthday-festive-food-item one of which was croissants. The plan was for her to get up early and have breakfast with/for me. Well, as usual, she got up fairly late and sped off to work. I wasn't upset, only slightly disappointed. Besides, I was tired and fell back to sleep. About a half hour later a knock on the door startled me out of my sleep and when I answered the door there she was with flowers. She had taken the day off and planned a huge surprise for me all along. I was completely convinced that she had headed to work and there she was out in the falling and melting snow (yes, a bit of snow!) hunting down a bunch of flowers and a special treat of raspberries. Now am I the luckiest or what? She then told me that she had another surprise but that I had to drive us there in the car. We criss-crossed around the southern part of the Netherlands, and arrived at Efteling. It was one of Eva's favorite places to go when she was little and figured today would be a great day to share it with me. It's an amusement park geared toward children but with really scary rides for adults as well. I've always been into the more scary rides before, but as the years go by, well they made me nervous and scared me to death. As the following photo speaks so loudly. So that about says it all. It was a wonderful birthday. I of course neglected to tell you about our missing one turn en route to Efteling and that I left the gas lid on top of the car and as we sped onto the highway it flew off the car roof and I immediately knew what had happened and was severely embarrased. (it's happened twice in my years of driving!) But other than that, it was a great day. Thank you Eva, for making the celebration of my birth x27 a wonderful one. IN THE NEWS:
April 11, 2003 : jessica returns
I was really looking forward to Jessica's returning to Belgium. For some reason doubling up with another non-native gives me some sort of boost in the brain. Jessica is so self-sufficient in general that she's pretty awe-inspiring in hew own right. Talk about getting things done! We have quite a bit to do while she's here, especially planning for the portions that I can add to her wedding preparations. I headed to Schiphol basically the same time Eva left for work. I had hoped to have enough time to stop by Auto 5 and buy a gas-lid, as I think Eva's still not completely over the idea that 'lil Debbie has a pink rag stuffed in the gas compartment. Who knows how long even the rag itself has been associated with the car. It's actually some old corner of a fitted sheet, and now I'll most certainly have to throw it away when I get a gas lid. It's funny because everyone seems to be certain that it's going to be difficult to find a lid. Well speaking from previous lid-losing experiences (which is bad enough as you here your gas lid fly off the roof of your car and hurl itself in oncoming highway traffic) it was fairly easy. I simply went to the next Walmart and bought one...and the auto section of Walmart looks close enough to Auto 5 for me. So today was by big driving-alone day. A first of sorts. Vast expanses of road-work highways and byways stretching out between here and there. Flatness like you wouldn't believe. I ended up being entirely early. I was early on two accounts; one of which happened to be because it took me less time than I had expected, and the other of which was due to the fact that her flight arrival time had been moved back about an hour. I parked and busied myself checking out trinket shops in the airport. I also busied myself at the newsstand and purchased the latest issue of The Economist. I also went into the airport grocery store and bought a kaas souffle (their version of the kaas broodje) and wondered through the isles packed with overpriced American products. I wonder who buys them. Americans on their way home who are dying for Apple Jacks? (they'll be there in a matter of hours where the cereal is half price) or people just arriving? (like they already know what they "can't live without?") I was curious. I suppose it might also be for people like me. Americans picking up Americans who have time to waste and then suddenly realize that they've been secretly dying for a Handi-Snack. *all reference to foods are for example only...I bought nothing and really and quite happy with my Belgian replacement foods. When Jessica finally appeared I had already mourned the fact that if we lived in the Netherlands I could probably get a job at the airport. English and Dutch. My two most speaking-friendly languages with no French requirements to throw me off course. Oh well. We headed out to the car and soon were caught up on each other's lives and so engrossed with the conversation that I didn't notice that my highway was ending and turning into a stoplight. We circled back and I got back on the right road. That's how it is when she's here. The two of us could probably talk about anything under the sun if we had to. By the time we got back to Antwerp I was pretty exhausted from driving. We had hit the Friday-before-easter-weekend-traffic and just as we were driving past Berchem Station Eva called to see if we'd be picking her up. I had to decline, as I'm still not quite used to the fact that one has to put in a clutch so often and such. Automatics are so, well, automatic. Yes standards are fun and give you that "I'm doing something" feeling, but my muscles are still getting used to not only car, but its two-footed/two-armed driving as well. But boy do Eva and I love Debbie. IN THE NEWS:
April 13, 2003 : realizing something obvious.
After staying up most of last night visiting, today we woke up at a fairly decent hour and busied ourselves with the day. Somehow Eva's got it set in her mind that we've got to go to her mother's house nearly every weekend. We always have the most splendid time, it's just that I can't figure out if she's; going to try to make up for all the times she wanted to go but didn't, going because it's an effort to thank her mother for the car, or going because we have a car and why shouldn't we go? I am hoping for the latter. Now regarding cultural differences, as I have mentioned before, people here in Belgium always arrive at a house with something. It's always some token of "thanks for letting me come into your house" or something. I usually say that I prefer the arrive-empty-handed, but currently I'm out on the issue. I would actually prefer that people did both. I certainly don't want people not dropping by because they didn't have a chance to buy a bottle of wine or a cake or some sort of offering. (I hope this makes sense) Anyway, before we left Eva's brothers ended up now going as well including the Spanish friend of Joris. So the 6 of us crammed into the Debbie and headed to Broechem. Consequently, as Eva and her brother's have never really had to pay much attention to directions before (as they are non-drivers and will probably still be non-drivers for awhile) no one really knows how to get to their house outside of the sneaky gas-station drive-through exit which I know for a fact that they cut off access to several months before. (I'm exaggerating a bit about the not-knowing how to get home) This leads us on a wild chase through half of Flanders' down dirt roads and through don't-enter road construction. By the time we get to their house, the car is making all sorts of new noises which alarm Eva and I more than anyone. Of course the more we think about it, the more we realize that if two elderly people had this car, they most likely never had 6 people in it. I mean, what 2 much-older people would cram 3 of their best friends in the back and sit 2 on each other's laps in the front. (it's the shocks. They're noisy now, but simply overworked for the day.) Eva's mother left to find cakes, and we ate ourselves silly on sweets and coffee/tea. Afterwords, Eva, Jessica, Jasper, and I headed to the football field to kick the ball around. 2 hours later Jessica was resting her liquid-legs (her words) and I was playing keeper for Jasper and Eva. Then Eva rested as well (everyone not playing had to chase lost balls) and Joris and Jasper both took their fill of kicking the ball at me. I daresay that tomorrow I'll have a few bruises. But talk about fun! I can somehow see this happening more and more in the future, both more fun and more outdoor activities. Ah Belgium in the summertime! We also re-looked around the house dreaming about what it'd be like to live in the garage and in Eva's old room. We're going to make an office for me in her old room so I have a place to get some stuff done in these last few weeks before I'm out of school. What a brilliant idea. Too bad we got the car only a couple of weeks ago and only thought of the office idea just last week! We came home and all of us rested from our very strenuous workout with the brothers. Jessica and I spent most of our Sunday night preparing for our trip to Berlin on Tuesday. We checked the forecasts and decided that Tuesday was best time to travel. We first landed on gaybed.de but decided that we should do a bit more research. The rooms were cheap and the place looked spotless--everything perfect. We just wanted to see if we could find a better deal. 3 hours later, after Eva had already gone to bed, we were still at it. It wasn't until later that I realized how loud I have been for the past two years clicking away on the computer. Jessica was coughing a bit and I was laying in bed. I suppose a simple IKEA cheapest-cloth curtain can't possibly cut out that much noice...well it doesn't. Now I know. We really do live in one room. And if someone is whispering in the corner of the kitchen, it's the same as whispering into Eva's ear while laying in Bed. If you drop a fork in the living-room it's the same as dropping a fork next to the bookcase. Sorry Eva, for all of those late-night journal entries that I wrote on my very-loud ergonomic keyboard (in comparison to my Macintosh laptop) plucking away making those terrible keyboard noises. I should have recalled several late-night sessions at Southwest Baptist University in Memorial Hall room 324 when Kathleen was writing a last-minute paper. I suppose my one-room wasn't much bigger and my Macintosh Performa 476's keyboard not much different. IN THE NEWS:
April 22, 2003 : surprises in general.
Today I had an appointment with the headmaster at the British school to see if there were any options available for me at the school next year. As the school is relatively close by, I gave myself just enough time to make it there and be "right on time." As it usually goes, I waited until the last possible moment to leave. My last-possible moments were spent gathering together my Dutch homework which I planned on taking to the library after my meeting. I ran out our door and headed downstairs only to do what I've been expecting to do since the day we moved in here. I fell down the stairs. It's practically a spiral staircase, only it's not. Apparently my heel was on the smaller side of the step and I wasn't balanced due to speed, load, and lack of grace. I fell basically all the way to the next landing and was surprised not to find myself with any broken bones. (like a broken finger) I stood there in shock and pain for a minute or two more stunned than anything. I knew I had an imprint of the stair in my behind, as it was definitely tender there. I hobbled downstairs to the bike and road on to the school not wanting misfortune to make me late. I pulled in across from the school (in the church where we last saw K's Choice) and hurriedly readied my bike lock only to realize I didn't have the keys FOR the bike lock. One can't leave a bike unattended, so I took a scrap piece of duct-tape (it's proving to come in rather handy, isn't it?) from off of my bike (there are pieces to hold the back mudflap on) and made it to where it appeared that my bike was, indeed, locked, and headed inside. Nothing much to mention there except for the fact that I'm supposed to call him back again in June to see if anything has opened up. My duct-tape concept worked during my short visit with the headmaster, but I decided not to press my luck by taking the key-less-lock to the central library. Instead I came home, promptly did the remaining portions of my Dutch homework, and applied to at least half a dozen jobs. That's what I do in my spare time, I apply to jobs here in Belgium. Everything from help-desk in English, English tech-support for programs, design positions, internships in user-interface, contract-work web design...you name it. Out of the nearly 50 or more I've emailed out, only 2 have replied with positive comments. (actually, more have replied with positive comments all of which were, "really like you work, it's one of the better ones that we've seen. We're sorry, you're overqualified or the position has been filled." Damn. I headed to Dutch class tonight and settled in with one of the altijd-arabish (always arabic) speaking girls. Lut, our teacher, is making a whole-hearted attempt to separate the two of them. Not to be evil (as it first seemed to the two of them) but to be helpful. She actually asked the girl at the end of the class if it had been good for her to work with me, as at the beginning of class she was sort of pissed about it. "Ja, het was goed voor mijn nederlands." She said, and besides, we had actually had a great time. I was starving by the time I got home and begged Eva for a quick-food-fix. Fritjes. Sure enough the same sounded good to her as well, so we headed up the street and returned without assortment. Eva actually opted to get a new item, some sort of fish-on-a-stick, and now it seems maybe she'll want to get fries a little more often now that she's found a new like at the frituur. We actually also saved a bit of money there by not getting our mayonnaise and instead using some out of the new bottle we have back home. I suppose we picked this up from Jessica while she was here, though we still haven't mastered the trade of saving our sugar cubes or napkins. (well we do save the napkins from Quick. Now that we've got a car, a car isn't complete if you don't save the napkins in the glove compartment?!) IN THE NEWS: ALSO IN THE NEWS:
April 23, 2003 : masking purchases
It was a classic case of masking purchases. I had run out of tampons and headed to Driekoningstraat to buy some at Kruidvat. I can remember being in line at a supermarket in Mountain View, California once and watching an Indian couple buy 2 packs of condoms and then added some candy bars at the last minute because they were embarrassed. (quite funny) And today, though it appeared to be the same, I had only one thing to purchase. "Monthly picnic" supplies. I actually needed pads, pantyliners, super and regular tampons. But I couldn't bear to buy only period supplies. Instead I bought the tampons and 2 Mars bars. If I had been the checkout girl I wouldn't have been able to help but say, "Ah, periods and chocolate cravings." And I had prepared myself for just the reply in Dutch, but to the checkout girl I might have well been buying a bottle of shampoo and vitamins. No comment at all. We simply exchanged money. On the way home, as I neared our street coming down Helenlei (I don't know if that's spelled correctly) I saw a man walking his dog approaching. The confident me with my purchases (I had also stopped to buy some pork and strawberries at Peter's Grovers) facing the man walking his dog. As he got a few steps closer, he sorted grunted at me, in the most disturbing way. Sort of like in a perverted cave-man mating call. To which I passed and rolled my eyes. Not 10 steps further a second man did the eye equivalent of the eyebrow raise and tongue clicking. There are just some days being a lesbian is so fulfilling, though no boy I would have ever dated would ever have stooped to such levels. (at least I hope I'm right!) I went to Mechelen to eat lunch with Eva. As the day was splendid (I was even wearing sandals) I couldn't help but see she was depressed about having to stay indoors project managing English translations and data-sheet layouts instead of running around Belgium. She took me to some of her secret places in Mechelen. As she has worked there for almost two years now, her hour lunches have provided her with enough radius to find all sorts of treasure-spots in Mechelen. We walked our way to a park, had our broodjes, and meandered back through town--arriving on the street where we began, her secret lunch-spot not as far-removed as I had thought. She's sneeky like that. We parted ways at Lu's Paragraph, and then I came home and set to work. As I had seen first-hand how Eva's working makes her somewhat restless on beautiful Spring days, I decided to make Thai and have it all ready for a picnic in the park--picking her up in the car on her way home. I bottled up the sauce, mixed the veggies with the rice, and packed a water-bottle, plates, and chopsticks in my backpack--with only a few minutes to spare. Funny that I should prelude this story by mentioning bastard men. I cannot say a blanket statement of "all men are bastards" as I know better, but come on men, a large percentage of your kind are, as the park we headed to is the same park where Eva and her childhood girlfriends had a run-in with a man hanging out in the park just waiting to show his private parts to little girls. Thankfully, or surprisingly enough, Eva has no hard feelings against this particular park as it's gorgeous, especially this time of year. We took our roll-up grass mat and headed to a section of grass we that was sure to have sunshine until we were ready to leave, and there in the evening sun, in a park bursting with the such green Eva acts like she's never seen before, we settled in to our Thai. Over and over again I swear things to myself, to do a few things more often. Sometimes it's as simple as going to the library, and other times its buying flowers or cleaning up our wee little apartment. Today I vowed to surprise Eva more often with dinner in parks and surprise sunset outings over which she has no say. We returned home well-rested and well-fed. We tidied up the place and settled in for a Spring evening, most of which had me reworking my dossier for my end-of-year exhibition--shortening my verbose 12 pager to just a few pages of sweet and concise explanations. Had she not been so helpful, it's true that it might not have gotten finished. She kept reminding me that English is not everyone's native language, and that short and sweet (less-wordy) is the way to go. Thankfully I had already thanked her by having the meal packed in Little Debbie a few hours earlier, so she didn't mind having to remind me of length-issues over and over again. IN THE NEWS:
April 24, 2003 : something like a sunset
I went to Brussels today to talk about my end of year show. To be honest, I was quite nervous, though I feel that I'm "on the right track." I have a lot on my plate right now, much of which seems to be idling sort of and some of which I'm trying to work through till completion on a daily basis. I was nervous because the project seems so exciting at times and then a split-second later it seems rather plain and normal. I suppose my project as a whole is art, but to me it is so much more than dossier writing and plan making that I'm just wanting to get it over with! I suppose if I ever wanted to "make art" in my 27 years of life, this is the art that I have wanted to make. The concepts seem so sort of obvious to me that I am excited to share them. Whatever, 3 months from now it'll all be over and I'll revisit the concept of "art" for myself and move on. At Brussels I talked with Steven, Herman, and Boris and they too seemed just as excited. Apparently I'll get to have part of my show at Argos in Brussels, and I'm liking the fact that I'm such a plain Midwestern American girl that I know the project will get made and exist that I'm not so worried about it anymore. It's not going to be high tech, if anything it will be more hillbilly engineered than anything. :) But that's what's so cool about it. It's making "art" out of very normal things! The train-ride home was far from uneventful, as I managed to hop a very speedy train headed to Amsterdam, and after most of the standing-room compartment cleared, I was able to snag the pull-down seat and sit there listening to Belgian radio watching all of the people working in their by-the-train-tracks gardens. I can only hope that Rita's bio-boys and their pyramid-garden efforts produce something, as I suspected they were a little late in their efforts. Most of the plot-gardens at least were showing signs of garden as sprouts of green were popping up in rows. At the station I decided on taking a different route and headed down Driekonignstraat past closing shops and the last few people wondering around. The ending-day was very still and it seemed as if rain would pour down at any given moment. I suppose it was humidity in conjunction with the stillness that made it like a sunset. It was obviously a day coming to an end, but more than that. People were sitting on their doorsteps and tending flower-boxes out their windows. It was warmer than one would guess, as the hooded sweatshirt I was wearing was proving to be more warmth than I had needed. It was just me and my old tape-player radio tuning more to Flemish voices than music--as it's suddenly become apparent to me that I understand more Dutch than I realize. At home, I too opened up the windows and let the non-windy-air enter our house through the front windows and leave through the back. When Eva came home I was talking with Bobbie about her trip to Belgium. She seems pretty worried about the 11 hour flight to Paris and her hour-flight to Amsterdam (more the first than the latter) I had forgotten that she was ever nervous about flying, and then I recalled our first flight together to New York, and how at every bump in the sky her hands gripped the arm rests. I'm excited about her coming here. She's been meaning to come to here for quite some time, as I had prodded her into getting her passport several years ago, back when it seemed I was on a track to coming to Europe every 3 or 4 months--little did I know that Eva would end up coming to the states after the second leg of my every-3 or 4-months trip-to-Europe outing. I'm simply excited to have her around, to show her my daily Belgian routine and to let her sneak a peak into the not-so-foreign-foreign country of Belgium. It's highly underestimated, and I love showing people Antwerp, as each and every time I take people around it reminds me just how special it is. I forget that I'm living sort of a novel life and that I have a somewhat exotic girlfriend. It's good to be reminded. Eva and I ordered Chinese food from China Meal, the cheapest-deal-in-Belgium, only we didn't order the Family Pack as we've decided it's a better deal if we pay the same price and get more specialized meals that we eat most of and don't waste. We also rented a DVD to watch while we were eating. We chose Bend It Like Beckham, and though the acting wasn't the best, the movie was genuinely entertaining. Who wouldn't love a movie with a lot of humorous gay undertones and a lot of hilarious Indian-culture tidbits. As Eva's been complaining that our bedtime of 1 in the morning is entirely too late, we headed to bed a little before midnight and listened to the BBC world service on our crank radio. We listened until it started repeating the news we had already heard, and having become up-to-speed on all of the worlds events, we turned to our most comfortable lumpy mattress sleeping positions, back to back, (oh what a mattress would do!) and went to sleep. IN THE NEWS:
April 25, 2003 : on the street in english
Before heading to Mechelen to pick up Eva, I heard some English floating through the window from down on the street. Not native English, but English as the common language. A Russian/Polish woman (accent/look of somewhere over there) was saying that she did hit him, but that she couldn't see him, and that he hadn't been going very fast, but that she was very sorry. The man she was talking to was Turkish/Moroccan (accent/look of somewhere down there) and he was saying that she hit him, that she couldn't see him, and that it was true that he hadn't been going very fast, but that he too was sorry that she had hit him. They were both relaying the story to a smartly-dressed Belgian guy (accent/look of somewhere here) and to be honest, I couldn't figure out the relationship of any of the three to the other. No one was very angry, though the girl was definitely animated. This went on for at least a half-hour, and though as a curious bystander I wanted to know what was going on, I had to head to Mechelen to pick up Eva. Traffic in Mechelen was horrific. No wonder public transport sometimes works really well. I daresay I'd hope to never become a 2 car, 2 person household here and vow to use the train when the train is the best choice. I don't mind, of course, that there was traffic, as I consider myself quite calm in dense traffic. I tuned my duct-taped speaker/stereo set to anything Flemish speaking, and set to practicing my Dutch. I still can't believe how much I understand. I can, by no means, speak back, but at least I understand that there are words coming out of the speakers and that half of those words have some sort of meaning to me. Cool. I picked her up and we calculated how much time we had to get from there to Carrefours and Aldi before heading to Het Roze Huis for my meeting with Tom (a different Tom) about working in Cafe Den Draak. (an effort to rocket my Dutch to the next level and get me out of the house.) We didn't have much time, but as I avoided the Ring around Antwerp at all cost, we were not hindered by harbor trucks, people returning home at rush hour, or weekend-vacationers trying to head to the Netherlands. At Carrefour Eva did something she's been planning on doing for quite some time. She saw her Friday-night-headache approaching coupled with her lack of shopping enjoyment hand in hand with my taking too much time to look at yogurt potjes and tried to fend it off. I did something I always try to do in this sort of situation, as I saw it most when I was attempting to try on sunglasses and gain her approval for just one pair. I just dropped it and tried to finish our shopping as quickly as possible. Together, we managed for her to get over it completely (only officially did it subside in Aldi) and the two of us managed to have a wonderful shopping adventure. :) En route to the cafe after a stop at Aldi, we stuffed ourselves full of snack items as we were both starving. I chose strawberries and Tiger Nuts and Eva chose strawberries, the Belgian version of marshmallows, and a granola-ish bar. At the cafe, Eva sat down to read De Standaard, and I headed upstairs to talk to Tom. One hour later I returned with papers to fill out and we headed home to officially start our weekend. We decided it was again a movie night and settled in with Bourne Identity (a movie to watch!) and a fake-chicken stir-fry. IN THE NEWS:
April 26, 2003 : trips to brussels and in brussels
It's good when we have to do something "early" on Saturday mornings. Today we had to meet with Joris to get their application started for their British passports. We picked up Joris and headed to the Lunch Garden for their steal-of-a-breakfast before heading to get their passport photos taken. While they busied themselves with papers, I went to kick-some-tires in Carrefours. (yes, I was just there yesterday!) I knew there wasn't anything I wanted to look at in particular, so I spent more time looking over the flowers. I love it when there are flowers for a Euro. Not just flowers, but the potted version. There seemed to be scads of 1 and 2 Euro flowers and as I had only a couple of Euros in my pocket, and as Eva and I are doing fairly well with keeping our current plants alive, well I figured I'd buy her some flowers. Both are a sort of Mum (more difficult to keep alive and healthy than ivy and cacti!) with one being a dark reddish brown and the other being a greenish-yellow/orange. Both for only 2 Euro. One has to love that. After an afternoon cat-nap, we headed into Brussels. Our first stop was supposed to be the house of the people with Eva's stereo. After keeping it in their closet for 6 months, we're finally getting it back and will be happy to have Eva's treasure from her confirmation at 12 into the Catholic church. (At least she got something out of it!) We were also headed to Brussels to stop by an event co-sponsored by the Transmedia program and put together by the first-year Transmedia students. We headed into Brussels on the highway of death (A12) and everything was going fine up until we started following the sign for "centrum". At one point it veers off to the right and then a minute later the sign points straight on. I chose the latter one in which I should have chose the first one and though we weren't lost, we were no longer on our mapquest street-by-street itinerary. In an effort to correct this, I maneuvered back to the correct street and by this time Eva had given up all hope of getting there and all hope of knowing were we were. This ended in a phone call from the radio people (Pieter) and his saying that he'd simply throw it in the truck and bring it to the exhibition because they were going there anyway. Then Eva and I had to sit along the street and cool off a bit. Where had we gone wrong? Why was it ok for Jess and I to be lost in Germany and for Eva and I to have a crisis because we're sort-of-lost in Brussels? We decided that we'd do better next time, and in an effort to make her laugh I mentioned that we'd maybe have to have MapQuest send us to a random address and for the next couple of Saturdays we'd simply have to perfect/work-on our map/direction/driving cooperation skills. :) Of course I also didn't have the address to the actual place where the exhibition was taking place. We parked our car in an area we were familiar with and headed into the very familiar cafe and had a coffee to settle down. We were pretty settled by this point, and consequently starving, and then Eva started looking as if the world has suddenly dawned on her. We talked about being 27 and how next year it was going to be 28 and then after that 29 and soon we'd be 35 without jobs, with no place to call home, with a baby on the way and not enough money to buy a washing-machine. Is it society that tells us that we're supposed to be settled in the next 12 months and starting "life" or is it ourselves somehow telling us to quick mucking around. I tried to assure her that these past two years were not "mucking around" for me and that they are a necessary part of my educational career and that the next year would have to be the same sort of thing for both of us. We can still not be on the "normal path" and still be heading in a good direction, right? She wanted to get a round of beers and talk over it further, but as our night was approaching more nightly, we had to get to the exhibition, meet the radio people, make the exchange, chat a bit with fellow transmedians, and then head to Eva's ex-coworkers party in Heist-op-de-Berg. Ok, so we were totally lost at this point too. I thought I knew where it was from the Bours square, but I didn't. I had forgotten that the one time I had gone to the place (the second day of Transmedia back in 2001) that we had actually walked quite a distance to get to it. I only knew that the street name started with K in Dutch and C in French. Ha, ha, ha! After walking around for another hour, we made it there and did our talking and drinking (for me it was simply one beer and a grapefruit juice) before heading back to our car, returning to the place, getting the radio, and heading out of Brussels. En route out of Brussels, we wound our way to a section of the city where I knew how to get out. It's true that one sign pointed us in the other direction, but I knew that the motorway/ring existed just over the canal and down the street past the church, palace, atomium, Chinese gardens, and around a roundabout. To be fair, I took Eva's option...the sign. If you've ever played a Nintendo or Sega racing game, you're familiar with the tunneled city scenes, well that's what we got ourselves into. We wound up and down through the heart of Brussels, under embassies and major streets before landing ourselves exactly where we had started off to begin with. The sign we had been following had flaked out somewhere along the way and to this we laughed whole-heartedly. Signage in Belgium sucks. We went the other route, which consequently had us following the canal for several kilometers of cobblestone in which Eva was sure her turntable would not survive. Once on the ring, we decided to follow the E19 to Antwerp/Mechelen in route to Heist-Op-De-Berg. Once again, we see a sign that points to Mechelen besides the sign that points to the E19. Once we take the exit we realize it's actually to Machelen instead of Mechelen...and to this we laugh even harder. What a mistake due to only one letter! Finally we're on the motorway and following signs to the city we're headed toward. It's already 1 something in the morning, and instead of being on a well-lit regional highway, we're hurling ourselves on very bumpy roads trying to find our way. Sometimes we had signs, and sometimes we didn't. We get to a small little town with an open frituur and Eva went in to inquire and buy me a viandel and the frituur-man tells her we're on the right track. We finally made it to Wendy's party which has died down significantly. In fact, only a handful remained of which one member was Jenneke. We hang out for a couple of hours until it's 3:30 in the morning and the three of us decide to head home. Jenneke says that she'll follow us to Antwerp and when we go outside we realize she's driving a beast of an Audi. While backing out of Wendy's driveway, Jenneke takes out a plastic trash bin and reduces it to trash and mashed barrel. (quite funny) One of her front headlights is out, and the combination of the steady-but-slower Micra driven by myself and directioned by Eva followed by the massive Audi driven by a petite Jenneke, well it was quite the sight. We headed to Lier, as that was the only point of reference we recognized and where we knew we'd be close to a motorway. In Lier we stumble upon a car hurling at us without headlights that does a U-turn, runs a red-light, passes us, and then runs another. I tell Eva to man her cellphone, and we get out of Lier as quickly as possible. Finally, this is the most hilarious part of the story. Outside of Lier we see a sign that points to Antwerp and another sign that points to the motorway. Which do we chose? Eva goes for the motorway. She's Belgian, she's lived here most of her life. Besides, since we're so close to Antwerp, it's Eva's home-region, where we are never more than a 30 minute drive to her house. We head to the motorway. 20 minutes later, after a call from Jenneke in the car behind us asking us if we "know where we're going" and after realizing that we should have headed in the direction of Antwerp sign instead of the motorway, we pass a sign headed in the direction of Eva's hometown. We laugh again. We laughed so hard that it became more and more funny the more we thought about it. Finally, there was the motorway, with the direction of Antwerp and the amount of kilometers to Antwerp the same that was given when we were in Lier. Eva calls Jenneka to tell her to turn on her headlights because her lamp is out, assures here that she's recognize where she is soon enough, and shortly thereafter we part ways--lil' Debbie taking us home and Jenneke and her beast-of-an-Audi taking her home as well. In the words of a disco hit, "oh what a night." IN THE NEWS:
April 27, 2003 : accidents and phonecalls
We woke up fairy early today considering that we were out until 4ish in the morning. Basically we got up at noon and headed to Brussels (again) to go to a special Flanders day to get information for Eva on how to be a teacher this fall. (see, it's finally dawning on her that she should look into a rewarding career in education!) ;) Funny as it seems, I've vowed not to take a train when a future location is situated directly next to a station. Well our destination was right next to the North Station in Brussels, but still we headed in the car in the event that if we had more time we could go somewhere else. It also gave us the opportunity to retrace our mess-up from yesterday which did, in fact, reveal that the signs for "centrum" are quite misleading. We passed onlookers at the palace and wound our way to our destination where both Eva and I got loads of information about teaching in Belgium. I also happened to snag a coffee cup and saucer with the flemish lion on them. It was blatant stealing, as my mother would say, but I thought it too cool to overlook. I'm probably wanted now for stealing Flemish property, my prized new possession. Sorry Flemish people everywhere, one has to have a keepsake such as this (Eva called it cafeteria ceramics) and it would only be complete if I had a Walloon rooster. On the out of Brussels, I spotted a perfect new bedside table which would be perfect for the stereo of which we currently have nowhere else to put. I circled back around, snagged through a couple of side-streets, and the two of us got out to inspect it. Sure thing. It's perfect. Thank goodness we drove. :) The next bit of the story of our day is more disturbing. At what I would consider a notorious cluster-fuck intersection (forgive my use of profanity) I was waiting for our light to turn green when I looked over and in a blink of an eye I saw both what was going to happen as well as it happening. I sas a boy get hit by a car. Accidents in general are not something to take in or process, they oftentimes happen so quickly that they are over and done before one can manage otherwise. I saw the boy with his soccer-ball and the black car moving along, as his light was currently green. And I saw the boy hit, thrown onto the hood, and bounce off the front and land in front of the now stopped car. I am supposing the man in the car had already begun to break, as he would have certainly run over the boy if he hadn't. Thank god, as I would be even more traumatized. I told Eva, "oh my god, that car just hit a kid, that car just hit a kid..." and pointed her in the direction of where it had just happened. The man got out and the boy got up. We were too far away to see if everything was alright, but I took a left turn so we could go by the action and just to relieve my feeling that a boy had just been killed. I had seen him get up, but he was obviously in shock and pain, as he quickly was down again. I can't imagine the feeling of the man driving the car, the 7 or 8 year old boy himself, or his friends who were waiting on the other side of the street. Had he gone after the ball and just not looked back to the right after he had retrieved it? Had he seen his friends and bolted across the street? When we passed he was sitting on the curb, with blood on his striped shirt, that is most of what we could see, but as we sat their at the stoplight, my questioning why it was taking so long for an ambulance to get there, I saw his hand move--somehow reassuring me that he was ok. I was pretty sick the rest of the drive home. Just like after one hits an animal, hears the bump under the tire, my knees were weak. After we got home, Eva fell asleep on the couch and I fixed a dinner of hamburgers. When she got up, she was feeling pretty sick and it lasted for the rest of the night. She was complaining that she sort of hurt all over, and we can only hope it is our lumpy mattress. If only we knew if we'd be here or there in the fall--we'd settle this mattress thing once and for all. If only people could burn things in their front yard in Belgium, as we would most certainly burn the mattress in Eva's mother's back garden once we buy a new one. It's only fitting. Yesterday I had called my parents in one of those random instances where one says, "I'm going to call so and so." I had to leave message, as they had already left for the day--such early risers, as it was only 8:30 in the morning there. They called me tonight, just to visit. My father having had a dream last night and he woke up missing me a bit. As hard as it is to know that they are missing me, I can't seem to rid myself of the feeling that Belgium is partly the place to be as well as there. Of course when we visit Eva's mother I think how wonderful it would be to do the same with my parents--and then I realize that both will never be as easy as I would like it to be. My mother asked me when I was coming home and why don't I just come home after school is over, look for jobs there, and stay if I found one. Just when I think that they understand Eva's importance, that she is now the new part of family that children get when they leave their parents, become adults, and set off on their own...well it's like they don't understand. At least Eva's mother understands that it's a tragedy if I have to live in the states and be apart from Eva. Sometimes I think my parents still think it would be just a minor setback. That somehow my relationship to Eva is simply accelerated friendship. Well it's not. She's my opposite, my missing piece, my compliment, my challenger, my friend, my other half--in other words, she's wonderful. And then my father says that in his dream I was a bit thinner with longer hair, "the old Andrea." Of which, the more I think about it, the more I realize that he's dreaming of me when I was 17, living at home, going to high school, and basically a different person. Sure it's a younger image of myself, only not so. I am certain will never return to that person. Weight? Sure, I'll gain and lose some. Hair? Sure, I'll cut it and grow it out on and off again for the rest of my life. But me? Life is something that we do with one step forward, and though we can retrace occasionally and reflect, it's not something we ever really return to. To be honest, it makes me sad. Not the life part, as that's just what happens. It just seems like an endless cycle of not being the person they'd like me to be. Do I really want to be in the position as Eva and I talked about yesterday? How we're looking down the road and can't see what's next? And because it's so hazy and out of our hands we can't really prepare or plan or even map out? No, it's not what we want, but it's what we get and thankfully we have each other to visit with along the way. IN THE NEWS: |
