Free Hugs in Brussels!

I've written before about the Free Hugs Movement . This video never fails to move me and tells the story of the Free Hugs Movement better than words alone can.

When I was in Italy last November, I shared the love with the Free Hug folks in Rome while my puzzled family wondered what the heck I was doing hugging strangers. It was singularly satisfying. The participants in Rome gave REAL hugs, not half-hearted when-will-this-be-over stuff.

Well, now I have a chance to hold a sign and dispense hugs in the capital of Europe. On Saturday afternoon at 2 p.m., I'll be joining the Free Hugs Movement at the Place de la Monnaie in Brussels.

Will my sign say Free Hugs or Calin Gratuit? I'm not sure. I may not even be able to communicate with the French-speaking organizers, but I'm proud to say I can hug with the best of them. Come out and share the love, ya'll. Bring a sign if you want to give as well as receive.  These events tend to attract participants much younger and cuter than I am, so don't let me be a Free Hugs wallflower, overlooked in favor of the cute Belgian blondes. Come out and see me. I'll hug ya right!

Under the Belgian Sun

I love walking under the cottonwoods.

August 9, 2007

Desperate circumstances

So you say you don't NEED a cat? I'm here to tell you that even if you don't need one, there's one that needs you.

These cats were rescued by my friends Martina and Sylvie in Brussels. They're vaccinated, they're neutered and spayed, but unless they're adopted soon, their future is uncertain. Please, please, please help. We have been trying to place these cats for months, and there are more cats that need homes. Contact martina.mueller@ec.europa.eu .

Contact martina.mueller@ec.europa.eu to learn how to adopt a cat.

August 23, 2007

Souvenirs of Belgium

Wf asked me what I had purchased as souvenirs of Belgium. I've picked up several art prints like this one,

Belgian tapestry runners from Ghent,

and some things that are not Belgian but that remind me of Belgium,

like this plate we purchased in Delft

and these two framed tiles made by one of the oldest potteries in Holland.

I've purchase more purses, totebags, backpacks, and accessories bearing this Belgian brand than I care to admit:

But in the long run, what will always bring Belgium back to me is this perfume, made in the citadel in Namur. It's a unisex scent, and I wear it every day:

Wf also asked about favorite Belgian foods, but the truth is that I don't have any. I'm not a foodie. The only Belgian custom I imagine I might bring back with me to the U.S. is celebrating St. Nicholas Day on December 6. It's the day Sinterklaas leaves gifts in the children's shoes.

Finally, Wf wanted to know if my Belgian-born husband had reconnected with his heritage. Just by living here, we have. We've also deepened our relationship with his family here and introduced the children to their Belgian cousins. We hope one day to host E's family in the U.S.

August 16, 2007

What would I have done differently?

Last Friday I invited questions from readers, and AP asked what I would do differently regarding my time in Belgium if I had a chance to do it all again.

The answer is: not much. I’ve actually been very happy with the way my life here has unfolded and evolved. My only wish is that I had landed in a French-speaking commune.

I studied French for two years in university, and for six months before we moved to Belgium, I listened to French language tapes every day in the car while I was driving my kids to school. My hope was to refresh my French before arriving in Belgium, advancing it further once I got settled here, and use it as a tool to help me integrate in my new home.

Up until right before I moved, I mistakenly thought all of Belgium was bilingual and that either French or Dutch (Flemish) could be spoken anywhere in the country. I had no idea that each commune had its own official language and that speaking French in Flanders would be a cultural faux pas.

As it turned out, the school my children attend is in a Flemish commune. Initially we lived in an apartment in the center of Brussels and I was able to use my French, but because the children had a one hour bus ride to school and we needed more space for them to play, we moved to a house outside the city and close to their school—in a Flemish speaking commune.

I love our house, my neighborhood, and being only 10 minutes from the kids’ school, but I regret having lost the opportunity to improve my French and use it to gain access to the community.

Most of the Flemish-speaking Belgians in my area speak English and are happy to exercise their language skills with me, but my inability to speak or read my commune’s language meant I couldn’t read the local paper, signs, flyers, or menus, and I couldn’t speak with residents who did not know English.

Yes, I could have made an effort to learn Flemish, but it is not an easy language to learn. I didn’t want to invest all of my free time in mastering a third language that would do me little good in most of Europe and in the U.S. Not being able to work here, regardless of whether I knew Flemish or not, also entered into my decision. I figured by the time I knew enough Flemish to be able to have a conversation, it would be time to move back to America! However, if I knew we would be staying here for longer than three years, I would have either moved to a French-speaking commune or learned Flemish.

AP and Peter both asked if I planned to continue blogging once I return to the U.S. The answer is YES! I will have less time once I return to work, but I don’t plan on giving it up. The subject matter will shift and I may not be able to post as often as I do now, but I’m confident I’ll continue writing.

Prior to starting this blog, I had been keeping a journal for 33 years. Being a writer isn’t a hobby for me; it’s who I am.

August 12, 2007

Question and answer time

Teebs at Soul Gardening posed some questions in the comments box earlier this week: How does Belgium feel to me now that I have an exit plan? What will I miss most? And what am I most looking forward to about life in the States?

From the beginning, we’ve known our time in Belgium would be limited. My husband signed a three-year employment contract with an option to extend to five years. Staying beyond that point would have required re-negotiating terms with his employer and the Belgian government regarding our status. While we considered staying for five years, neither of us seriously considered staying in Belgium indefinitely.

Knowing that our time was limited, we’ve tried to maximize the experience here, treasure it, soak up the details; that’s been the good part. The bad part is that because I’m only here temporarily, I’ve put down shallow roots. I never made the effort to learn to speak Dutch or to get involved in the community. I’m not a tourist, but I’m not a citizen here either, so leaving here will be easier than leaving the U.S. was.

That said, I know I’ll miss Belgium, and I know I’ll come back to visit to see my Belgian friends and relatives. What will I miss most about living here? The architecture—the way the towns and cities look with all of the old brick buildings, red tile roofs, small shops, cobblestones, and brick sidewalks. I’ll miss the stone walls and beautiful gardens, all the window boxes on people’s houses, and the sheer charm of the communities. American towns, even the quaint ones, pale in comparison.

On a related note, I’ll miss the gardens, hedges, flowers, and parks—the way Belgians invest far more in their landscaping than Americans do. I love the way Belgium is green all year round, even in the dead of winter, and I love the cool summers.

The house we live in here has casement windows and we have windows open year round, except in the very coldest weather. I love having fresh air constantly moving through the house, the scent of the rain in my bedroom, the rustling sound of the white birch trees moving in the breeze outside my window. Air conditioning is a necessary evil in Virginia, but while I enjoy the cool air, I hate the way having the house all buttoned up insulates me from the world.

What am I most looking forward to about moving back to the U.S.? Probably assuming my “place” in the world. I’ve felt like a guest in Belgium, and like any good guest, I’ve accommodated my host and tried not to be an imposition on anyone. I’m looking forward to asserting myself again and not being concerned about whether my actions are culturally acceptable. I can’t wait to resume working professionally and driving wherever I want to go, being part of a larger community again, feeling confident about my role.

I’m also greatly looking forward to electing a new president—AHEM—and doing what I can as a citizen to get America back on track. And of course, I can’t wait to host friends from Belgium at our home in Virginia. As we say in the South: “Y’all come!”

August 8, 2007

Whacked out

Traveling from Brussels to Washington, D.C., never seems to be a big deal. A day or two in our new location, and we're right as rain, easily learning to function on a clock that's set six hours earlier than in Belgium.

The return trip is quite another story. We fly out in the late afternoon, spend about 8 hours on the plane, and arrive at about 7:30 in the morning in Belgium. There's something so disorienting about seeing the sun set on the plane and then seeing it rise again just a few hours later. It seems that dinner is served, you blink, and then the flight attendants come by with breakfast.  Stepping out into bright sunshine in Brussels in what is the thick of the night in Virginia puts my head in a fog and leaves me feeling hungover.

All of us at Chez V are struggling with major jet lag.  I slept until 10 a.m. yesterday and I had to wake my son up at noon. Last night I didn't take my shower until after midnight, and E-Grrrl stopped in to see me when she realized I was up because she was awake too. I didn't crawl into bed until 1 a.m., and then I couldn't sleep.  I laid there until 2:30 a.m., occasionally chatting with E because he couldn't sleep either.

Finally I slipped downstairs to do some reading, and soon I was joined by the rest of the family. Yes, at 3:30 a.m., we were all sitting around eating snacks, chatting, and looking at photos. At one point I looked at E and said, "Omigosh, you have to get up and go to work in three hours."

Yikes.

By 4 a.m. we were all back in our beds. Hard to say who was sleeping. I got up at 9 a.m. and have been cleaning, doing laundry, and sorting through stuff in the basement so we can get a head start on downsizing.

Tonight I'm hoping the only creature that will be stirring after midnight is Petey the Black Cat.

August 6, 2007

Back to reality in Belgium

The flight back was long and uncomfortable. After driving more than 3,200 miles in the U.S., more time strapped into a small seat with no legroom was hard to stand. Leaving Virginia, we were parked on the tarmac in the blazing sun for ONE HOUR before we actually got to take off. During the flight, the plane was inexplicably warm and the cabin stuffy, and while I've never been claustrophobic, I was beginning to understand why someone might become desperate for space and fresh air.

Belgium greeted us with pristine skies and perfect weather, and I smiled at the aerial view of red brick buildings and red tile roofs as the plane descended. Petey the Cat was nonchalant about our return, acting like a typical adolescent male. After spending five weeks in tight quarters, we're all happy to have space to spread out in and mentally we can finally relax.

For the last year, we've wrestled with so many major decisions regarding our future. It's a relief to finally be able to plan and visualize our life after we leave Belgium. I've returned home with a sense of purpose and a long "to do" list to tackle to prepare for the school year, our move, our new home, and my career.

For so long, my life has been in a bit of a holding pattern, and that hasn't been an altogether bad thing. Now, however, I'm eager and ready to move forward and make some changes and see what's NEXT.

August 5, 2007

Such a flirt!

Di Mackey,  a member of the Antwerp paparazzi, trailed V-Grrrl at Middelheim Museum and caught her shamelessly flirting with a naked man. Y'all can provide captions in the comments section.

June 26, 2007

Weekend in Antwerp

I spent the weekend in Antwerp at Chez Di and Gert, also known as Kiwi Villa. E-Grrrl and I arrived on an early train from Brussels, and we traveled into the heart of the city with Di and Little Miss Two, her granddaughter, for the "foreigners' market," so-called because of all the international vendors.

Di bought spring onions, fresh mushrooms, ripe tomatoes, crusty bread and a hunk of brie while I purchased strawberries and a giant bouquet of sunflowers. After lunch at her apartment, we headed back into the city for a theater program being given by the integration office. Di has worked for the office for quite some time now, photographing immigrants and their businesses, capturing a bit of what makes Antwerp's culture so diverse and colorful.

I had the pleasure of meeting Peter at the theater. He caught me in the act of pinning Di's business cards onto a display of her photographs in the lobby. (Shy Di is a humble New Zealander and relies on her brash American PR consultant to publicize her fledgling business and promote her talent.)

After meeting Peter for the first time, Di and I are convinced he made a deal with the Devil long ago or drank from some secret fountain of youth. My first impression was that he was at least ten years younger than me, when in fact, he's just a bit older. Sigh. Those Belgians men age well. : D

It's not fair. I could be BITTER about it, but Peter was so friendly and amusing, I won't hold his youthful appearance against him. During what was a rather dull program for those of us who don't speak a word of Dutch, Peter, a native of Antwerp, occasionally translated, laughed at my jokes, and assured me that even if I understood every word spoken, I'd still be bored by the city officials being interviewed on stage.  (Not that he has strong opinions about local politics or anything.  ; D)

I'm hoping that even though he had to endure not just one but TWO free hugs from this silly American Grrrl, he'll still be willing to get together again some time.

We got caught in a torrential downpour on the way back to Di's apartment where she fixed a stunning dinner of Persian chicken. When she said it was a "special occasion" meal, E-Grrrl and I high-fived each other since clearly we rated as "special occasion" people and we did indeed feel special. Thanks Di. 

Being a sophisticated woman of the world, I used my extensive knowledge of wine to purchase the perfect bottle of red for Di. Yes, after standing in front of a display for quite some time, I bought the bottle with the most attractive and intriguing label. This proved to be an effective tactic, as the wine was soft and smooth and better than good. California wine did me proud here in Europe.

We stayed up late because we were too tired to go to bed, and then on Sunday afternoon wandered through the sculpture park in Antwerp. I was stalked by some camera-crazed woman who acted like a papparazzi and caught photos of me in various compromising positions. I'm sure the photos will NEVER appear on this blog. Well at least not this minute. I have to give y'all something to look forward to later this week.

June 24, 2007