Farm Fresh

When we first moved here, we found the milk on the shelf and didn't like how that tasted, so we refrained from trying the eggs that were also on the shelf--there are none in the refrigerated section. It turns out that their eggs are very fresh here...and really good. This dozen just wanted to remind us of its source.

No More Camping

The other day, my friend, Kat, and I were talking on Skype, and she mentioned that she had plans to go camping, which she hadn't done since, like, 2005. I told her that I hadn't been camping since that year...or maybe even before that. It has been so long.

But, today, it occurred to me that I have kind of felt like I have been camping since we moved to Belgium. I'm not talking about the middle-of-the-woods type of camping, where you fetch your wood and pray that no wild animals will attack you or steal your food while you're sleeping. I'm talking about the camping that I have always done. It may have been in a camper or, at the least, a tent, and it most assuredly involved, at the minimum, a Port-a-potty. This kind of camping brought with it fridges...or, at least, fully stocked coolers. And...it was fun, because I was on vacation.

But, I'm not on vacation right now. I'm living here. And I don't want to feel like I'm on vacation while I live in my house. Today, after waking up from my very own bed...after sleeping on a PILLOW....and not a "fake" pillow made out of a towel.... Today, after walking downstairs only to find my furniture....and not the rental IKEA furniture.... Today, after eating from my own plates....and not thinking that I needed to take extra care of them, because they belong to someone else, I realized that I have not been at home up until this point. I was "camping." This was just a campsite that I was using. But, now, I see all of my things here. They were in the U.S., and now they're here. Since they are here, I can be more at ease. Now this can become my "home."

That's Belgium

We aren't quite yet to the point where we can say, "Yep, that's Belgium", or "That's the Belgian way", or as our Ex-Pat friend, Tina, would say, "That's how they roll in Belgium!" without getting a little annoyed. It's very difficult to move from a country where almost everything is instantaneous to a country where many major things have been taking us about three tries to complete. Let's tally up the scorecard, shall we?

1. Phone company: 4 appointments
2. Air container: 1 appointment
3. Package delivery: 3 failed attempts (1 package lost...still not recovered)
4. Rental furniture: 1 appointment
5. Belgian ID cards: 3 trips
6. Belgian driver's licenses: 3 trips
7. My car: Will be 4 trips for me, 3 for Brian
8. Sea container: 1 appointment
9. T.V./DVD player: So far, 2 trips (will probably be 2 more, at least)

And, by the way, our ID cards and licenses, don't really deserve those terms. They are really just some flimsy cardstock that take up a lot of space in our wallets and will be rendered useless if they get wet (which is likely since it rains here so often). It really is quite funny. I don't think the citizens are given these little "beasts", but we are because they are "temporary" cards and we are temporary residents.

Just so you know, I make an oath right now to never complain about U.S. DMV's ever again! The workers and the wait may be a little unsavory at times, but at least you get a durable card and you actually get the thing (usually) without needing to come back another time.

Possessions (7/25/08)

(Note: This blog was written when I didn't have a computer or internet access, but I wanted to share it anyway)

We got one of the packages we sent to ourselves before we left the U.S. today. The delivery guy was supposed to bring both parcels, but only brought one.

We get our air shipment on Tuesday--well, we're supposed to receive it then. Of course, anything could cause a delay.

The point of this is not to complain about not having our things. It has actually been a little "freeing" in some ways to not have all of our things. As Brad Pitt's character in Fight Club says, "The things you own, end up owning you."

Also, there is a rather high incidence of petty theft of personal property here. So, I'm not exactly looking forward to the fear that comes along with the idea of someone breaking into our house to steal something. I can imagine the anxiety that would linger from an experience like that--feeling as though your safe haven has been violated.

Anyhow, it's been good to be reminded that the things we own are merely things and not our lives. They do not define who we are. They can be used as tools for enjoyment or convenience...and in some cases, survival. But they don't make us who we are. We are the same people, vacuum or not...T.V. or not...internet access or not... I prefer life with these conveniences...but just for now, at least, I can see more clearly that they often clutter up my life. I would like to remember what a blessing they can be in my life...but also recall that they are not the end-all, be-all to existence in a modern world.

Culture Shock

A lot of things take double the time to complete here--when compared to the U.S.

When you're accustomed to your surroundings, you don't haved to think as much about the order of things.

Here, you wonder if there's some small, cultural difference that will put a glitch in your best-laid plans. Here, you have to think ahead about the questions they might ask in French...and what to do if they don't know any English.

But, as I have become more used to living here, I also see that there are a lot more similarities than anything else.