Je Suis Le Morse

And so we discover my secret love of procrastination....

I'm trying to introduce hugging into everyday Belgian life. My first hug was given out to an unsuspecting Belgian boy who had just given me Across the Universe. I was later told that I give good "cuddles." Not exactly what I was going for, but I suppose that works. Regardless, he told me he now wants to give more "cuddles." My plan to convert their European ways is working already.

I had two memorable "proud moments" today. These are the times when I think to myself, "Dear God, I'm awesome." The first one occurred in French class when I recognized one of Salvador Dali's paintings based on the technique used. I'm probably the only one who considers this to be a noteworthy moment, but it made me giddy inside.
The second occurred after accidentally teaching a native Belgian a new French word. Perhaps this isn't too surprising, considering the things that come out of my mouth are usually rather weird phrases that nobody understands. Even so, I figured Belgians would understand, "Je suis le morse/I am the walrus." Walrus must not be a commonly used word. One point for Cayenne, please.

During our lunch break today, while a few friends and I were charging down the street to get durums, a middle-aged man stopped us, pulled his pants down just low enough to reveal a diaper, and stuck a pacifier in his mouth. What an interesting man.

There's a boy who sings to me every time he sees me. On occasion, he'll modify the lyrics just enough so that they include my name. For instance, a single line of "Hello" will be modified in order to say, "And I want to tell you so much, Cayenne, I love you." He's a fabulous boy. I'm considering adopting him as my life's soundtrack.

1+1= Jesus Fish

I've come to discover that I have a slight comprehension problem. The problem first made itself clear when I completely understood the teacher's lecture about how petroleum is insoluble in water, yet I didn't understand her when she welcomed me to Belgium.

The comprehension problem continued in physics. The teacher wrote a long string of illegible notes on the board that I attempted to copy down.

What I copied into my notebook:

"Vector ate dinner in a sewer because he wasn't invited to a lounge by Dr. Apple."

What was meant to be copied down (English translation):

"The VECTEUR representation: direction, sense, intensity, and application point."

Math isn't really any better. Although it's supposedly the universal language, it doesn't seem very universal when this is what I think the equation is:

umy(90º+Jesus fish)=umyJesusfish

When the teacher wrote some kind of helpful information on the board, this is what I read:

"The complementary colors of a Jesus fish and 'go' equal a negative Jesus fish."

In other news, I completely wiped out while going down a staircase in the school today. It happened while following a few friends to an unknown classroom. You have to understand that there are stairs everywhere in the school. It's like Hogwarts, only less magical. As we were walking down what was probably our fifth staircase, I totally missed a step and went flailing down. Now, I slip and stumble nearly every time I go up (or down) a staircase, but this was the first time I'd really made a fool of myself. Unfortunately, I expect many more of these incidents to occur.

It's Not Polite to Stare, Cayenne

My first almost actual day of school was today. Three days in, and I'm more lost than ever. 

Everyone in my grade gathered into a room to listen for the construction of our schedules. I wrote random classes down, but I honestly don't know what classes I'm actually in. I spent most of the day just following people around.

I went to Religion and math before eating lunch. During those two classes, I just sat and stared at the teachers as they lectured. They'd ask me a question every now and then, and I wouldn't notice, so I'd just continue to stare at them without answering. It's looking as though I won't be getting A's this year. As of right now, I'm not even sure if I'll be able to avoid turning in blank tests/homework. 

A group of friends and I went out for sandwiches and pasta for lunch. As we ate, they would point to everything in sight and say what it was in French. I'm pretty sure they taught me around 70 words just during our lunch break. 

After eating, I followed one of the girls to Spanish class. I was so excited to go to Spanish, because I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd hear a phrase in Spanish and understand what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn't hear a single Spanish word. 

I was told that I had ecology after Spanish class, so I went wandering around for the classroom. I couldn't find it, so I asked a nice man to help me. After about 10 minutes of searching, he couldn't find it either, so he told me to go home. 

I wasn't sure how to get home, though, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to explore until I hopefully found a way back to Athus. I walked around for a while, made a few spontaneous turns, and ended up at the train station. Just finding the station gave me a huge feeling of accomplishment. I went in to read the train schedule, and saw that I had an hour to spare, so I walked around town until I found a café. 

The bartender and I conversed while I refreshed myself with a beverage. In the middle of our discussion, I noticed a bird in the corner of the building, moving. I've been so disoriented lately, that seeing a bird in a bar concocted a brew of intense fascination. I continued with my staring. I've gotten quite good at staring at people and things for long periods of time. 

After I finished, I said goodbye to the bartender and headed back down to the train station. I re-read the schedule to make sure I knew which train to get on, and realized my train wasn't supposed to arrive for another hour. I tried calling my host father, but I couldn't get either of his numbers to work. I then decided to call Jarrod, who is an absolutely amazing exchange student from New Zealand who's been in Belgium for sixth months already. I didn't really have a point in calling him, I just feel more comfortable when I ramble about my confusion to other people. 

After the second hour had past, I still couldn't figure out what train I was supposed to get on, so I just walked onto a random one that had just pulled into the station. I asked the conductor if the train was going to Athus, and he said the train to Athus wasn't schedule for another thirty minutes. 

Thirty minutes later, I got onto a train. I wasn't sure if it was the right one, but I'd reached a point of not even caring. I just wanted to go somewhere. As soon as I sat down, a boy stumbled onto the train. I didn't want to assume he was drunk, so I instead thought, "Oh, he must have a terrible sense of balance like I do." I should've just assumed, because as soon as he sat down he started spewing chunks of vomit everywhere. What did I do? I stared. I stared as he threw up, I stared as he passed out into the pool of vomit, and I stared as his friends tried to get him to regain consciousness. 

I eventually realized how disgusting it was to be staring at a pile of barf with an unconscious man in it, so I moved to a different section of the train. It took yet another 30 minutes before the drunk boy was taken out on a stretcher. Another 5 minutes or so later, we were finally moving. 

I figured the first stop was mine, so I got off. After staring around mindlessly, I decided it wasn't my stop and got back on the train. The second stop was the winner. I had found Athus, and it only took me four hours. 

Because I don't want to end this post on the unappealing subject of vomit, here's a piece of a conversation that took place at school when a Belgian tried to speak to me in English:

Belgian Boy: In the States, you can drive, no? Do you have license?

Me: Yes, I do.

Belgian Boy: Ooh! What kind of car do you drive? Like, shapely or empty?

Me: ...I drive a Prius. I'm not sure if it's shapely or empty, though. 

Belgian Boy: A pris! Is your car a virgin?

Je Suis Calée

On Thursday, I ate a sandwich. Not only did I eat the sandwich, but I ate it like a pro Belgian. I don't think I've ever eaten so elegantly in my life. Unfortunately, nobody was around to witness my newfound grace and charm except for the maid, and I don't think she was paying much attention. It was one of those moments that took me back to my childhood-- the days of mastering a flip on the trampoline, yet failing anytime someone was watching.

Friday was the first day of school. It was also my 13th day in Belgium, so it was sort of like Friday the 13th. Isn't that a peachy thought? Anyway, I wore a wet shirt to school. You know how I mentioned my lack of clothes? Yeah, well my host mom washed the shirt that I was planning on wearing, but it wasn't ever dried. I wore it regardless. I suppose it's better than going to school naked, eh?

On my way to school, I started thinking about how I haven't been the least bit nervous at any moment throughout this experience. This made me nervous. Seven seconds into the anxiety, "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" came on the radio, and all was well again.

I got to school, and was introduced to a man. I'm not sure what his name was, but he was a man. A very kind man, I might add. The very kind man led me to a very kind woman who spoke English. She then took me into a room to form a schedule for me. That being said, I have a new schedule. However, I'm unsure as to what my classes are, because my schedule was taken from me. Either that, or I just gave it away to a stranger.

I think I'm taking English now. The "very kind woman" told me it may help with my French, since there is a lot of translating in the class. Previously, I had been told that the English class would be super basic and that it was a class for people who have no English knowledge whatsoever. I'm not sure how true this is, because I was shown an example of the class work, and it was some pretty intense literature about politics. "Basic" must mean something different to Belgians, because it sure didn't seem very basic to me.

After getting my schedule semi-worked out, she introduced me to a group of six people. They were all super nice and welcoming. I did a lot of laughing with them, though I'm not sure what I was laughing about....

After spending about 30 minutes with the group I was introduced to, Sander (I ate with his father Friday night, so we kind of knew of each other) had me follow him to another small group of people. As soon as I sat done, I was asked, "Do you have a boyfriend in the States?" When I told them I didn't, they nearly screamed at me, "Are you a lesbian!?" Belgians are great at breaking the ice.

I've noticed that when I tell someone my name, they always say, "Oh! Like the Porsche Cayenne?" Virtually nobody compares my name to the pepper, which is kind of new. And when I tell people what my last name is, they always bring up the motorcycle. In fact, I may have accidentally told a man that my family makes Buell motorcycles.

I've also noticed that when I tell people I'm from Arkansas, they'll start talking about the surrounding states, our capital, the rivers that flow through the state, and historic events that took place there. Belgians impress me.

We were dismissed at about 11:45, and I met up with my second host family sister, Marie. We walked over to a really nice restaurant and waited for her sister and mom. Because none of them speak English very well, it really tested my French. My French is still horrendous, by the way. I'm actually really glad that they only know a limited amount of English, because it keeps me from excessively speaking my native language.

In the midst of eating the delicious food, I noticed a place across the street called "Fish Massage MIKA." It is, indeed, a spa where your feet serve as fish food. I've wanted a fish pedicure ever since I first heard about them, and now I go to school right next to a place where I can get one! As if it needs to be pointed out, I'm kind of super stoked about this.

My current host family and I went to a beautiful restaurant with my second host family for dinner. I was so confused when it was time to order, so I told my host sister to choose something for me.

This is what my dinner consisted of:

Toast and rolls

A giant plate of raw salmon

A side of green beans

A bowl of potatoes

3 lamb thighs

A creme brulèe

4 glasses of wine

Written down, it really doesn't seem like very much. Oh, but it was. And that, my friends, is how I learned the phrase "Je suis calée." A very, very rough translation: I have eaten too much. Je suis calée, indeed. 

Flashback to Compare and Contrast Essays

The Things I Miss from America:

Thrift stores. There are two major reasons as to why I dislike buying new clothes:

      1. I'm super cheap and hate spending money. 

      2. I don't like the unoriginality that usually comes with buying things straight from the stores. For example, if someone bought something from, let's say, Forever 21, it wouldn't be surprising to see someone else wearing the same thing while walking down the street. 

And that is why I love thrift stores-- you get cheap prices and unique items. Another bonus is the hunt. You can't waltz into a secondhand store and find exactly what you're looking for, and I like that.

The rule that pedestrians have the right of way. I'm not sure what the actual law is in Belgium, but it's really starting to look like drivers have the right of way rather than pedestrians. If I don't get used to this soon, I swear I'm going to get hit. 

Hugs. I adore giving kisses here, but I'm really starting to miss the simple little pleasure that comes with hugs. To those of who who are currently in a culture that accepts it, please appreciate the hugs that you receive. 

Things I Realize I've Taken for Granted:

The ability to eavesdrop. Now that everyone around me speaks French, I can't creepily listen in on a conversation. It's not like I go around with the goal of invading people's personal conversations, but now that I am completely incapable of doing so, I desperately want to. 

Grocery Baggers. You know how in America, either the cashier or bag boy/girl with place your products into your bag? That's not how it works here. In most places in Belgium, you have to bag your own items. This isn't necessarily bad or annoying, I've just never really thought about it much before. So, thank you, grocery baggers, for your dedication of a portion of your life to placing our items into bags for us. 

Solid and consistent internet connection. I know I've mentioned the internet connection in Belgium multiple times, but it's something I seriously took for granted while in America. Unless there was a storm or an obvious problem, I always knew there would be internet connection throughout the entire house. Here, it's like a scavenger hunt for wifi hot spots. You can never count on properly working internet. Dear American Internet Access, I would like to apologize for how ungrateful I used to be. You were wonderful to me, and I never realized it. Please forgive me.

 

Although it may seem like it, I'm not trying to compare and critique the two countries. It's really not like that. My overall sense of awareness has just been increasing substantially since I've arrived, and there has been a spike in my level of appreciation for things I was never properly grateful of before. I do believe that the acknowledgement of these differences is a beneficial step in the process of self-discovery, so I'm trying not to ignore them. 

Culture Shock

Before coming to Belgium, I expected the culture shock to be a very dramatic, abrupt occurrence. It hasn't been like that at all. Instead, it's actually just a gradual development of realization of the differences between America and Belgium.

The main "shocker" relates to food. Belgians eat everything with a knife and fork. This includes hamburgers (which are actually just slabs of beef), chicken legs, and fries. As if this alone weren't enough to create an embarrassing atmosphere, they (my host parents) eat with the fork in their left hand and the knife in their right. I'm right handed, so trying to navigate my left hand to my mouth is quite an unappealing task. They eat very gracefully. As hard as I try, I always fail to imitate the grace. I'm the one who is making all of the clanking noises and spilling food all over the table. Hey, I'm trying.

Speaking of food, my host father made a pizza for lunch. I figured we'd split it and each eat half of the pizza. Nope. He gave me the entire pizza to eat by myself. Now, it may have been slightly smaller than the average American pizza, but it was still large enough to take up my entire plate. I'm used to eating two slices. Not an entire pizza! Then I have to eat ice cream, muffins, and mousse. I say "have to" because it's all so good, that I just can't avoid them. They say exchange students tend to gain weight in their host countries, and I'm beginning to understand why.

Today, I walked by a man who was peeing in the bushes of a public area. I'm not sure how common this is, but nobody seemed to pay any attention to him. To be honest, I did do a double take. Not exactly the nicest sight to look at twice.

In Belgium (and I suspect most of Europe), there is no censorship. I had heard this before, but didn't really think much of it until I heard the uncensored version of "The Fear" by Lily Allen come on the radio. When I hear an English curse word on the radio or television, I silently snicker to myself. I'm immature, I know.

I'm used to laundry being done on a near daily basis. With my current family, they only wash clothes on Saturday. It's now Tuesday, and I don't know where my clothes are. This is bad, because I officially have nothing to wear. I guess I could walk around town in a coat and a pair of socks, but I'm not sure how appropriate that would be....

Ninth Day in this Lovely Country

I've been trying to post on this blog lately, but every time I try, the internet will spaz on me.

Not a single day has gone by without me feeling extreme exhaustion at some point during the day. I've gotten over jet lag, and I've gotten used to the time change, but being an exchange student is draining.

On Thursday, all of the exchange students in Belgium met in Brussels. We spent about an hour or so getting to know each other and whatnot. I saw so many people that I hadn't seen in months, and it felt tremendously amazing. I even saw a few Belgians I had met in January. It feels like such a small world when you see people you know from the States in Belgium.
We spent the day walking around and doing a little sight seeing. We visited the parliament and other various places. Brussels is such a beautiful place.

Some of the awesome American exchange students

I went to the Luxembourg fair on Friday with Aureliè, Jérôme, Florence, Louise, and Georgia. This video pretty much summarizes the greatness of the day:

Saturday and Sunday were spent in Huy with the exchange students in my district. We started the weekend by trading pins and getting to know each other a little better. The majority of the day consisted of lectures and a walk around Huy. At around 8 or 9:00, we had a dance party. A few hours later, fireworks began to go off outside, so we went out to watch them. 

We finished up the lectures on Sunday, and I got to meet my third host family. They seem really awesome, so I'm looking forward to seeing them more. 

Huy

This is a very non-descript post, but it's hard for me to blog about multiple days. There is so much to say about each day, and it's impossible to write everything. I'm trying my best, but it really is difficult to blog regularly. On the bright side, I'll have plenty of unheard of stories to tell when I get back :)

Eat Beef, Not Chicken?

My entire yesterday was dedicated to Louise. I pretty much just played with her all day. We'd be running around doing something, when she would say, "Viens!" I'd obey her command and follow her upstairs. It seems as though we would end our journey in the bathroom each time. The third time we were in the bathroom, I was sitting on the floor and waved my hand in front of my face due to the lovely stench she was making. She noticed my motion and exclaimed, "Il ne faire pas à l'odeur comme les fleurs!/ It doesn't smell like flowers!" She then told me to look in the toilet. The toilet water here is a deep, deep blue, so I didn't think there'd be much to see. I was wrong. There was plenty to see. Ah, children.

She's a cute little devil.

Today, my host parents and I went to visit with the directors at my school. I was just started to feel as though I was picking up on the language (if even just a little), but that feeling is long gone. We talked with one of the directors for about thirty minutes or so, and I don't recall understanding a single word he spoke. It would've been nice to know what he was saying when he held a knife up....
He used a little English with me when he asked me important questions, though. I really hate that people feel the need to speak English with me. It makes me feel like a hassle. I just want to converse in their native tongue.
Anyway, he said to me, "We won't give you an English course, because you already speak it." I told him that I would like an English course because it's necessary for me to take one this year in order to graduate at my American school on time, but I didn't need one if it would be to difficult to fit into my schedule. I was aware of the possibility of having to retake my senior year before coming, but I'd like to do anything I can to prevent that. To this, he said, "Ah. You need English to graduate? We'll give you Spanish! You speak Spanish, yes?" And so, it seems as though I'll be taking Spanish again. He said it's basic Spanish, so I'm hoping I'll do relatively well since I've already taken Spanish 1 and 2.

My Schedule: 

A. Formation commune

     Religion                          2

     Français                          4

     Géographie                     2

     Education physique        2

B. Formation obligatoire en langue moderne

     Langue moderne I : allemand ou anglais ou néerl           4

C. Formation optionnelle obligatoire

     Mathématique                         4

     ou Mathématique                    6

     ou Matématique + ACPES     6+2

     Sciences 3 (1h bio - 1h chimi - 1h phys)           3

     ou Sciences 6 (2h bio - 2h chimie - 2h phys)     6

     ou Sciences appliquées                                     10

     Historie                                   2

     ou Histoire                              4

D. Formation optionnelle

     Langue II (allemand - néerlandais ou anglais)    4

     Latin ou Sciences Eco ou Langue III Espagnol  8

E. Activités au choix

     Complément en physique (avec Sc6)      1

     Complément en français                          2

Pour les élèves en immersion néerlandais ou allemand

     Géographie    2

     Histoire          2

If I'm looking at this correctly, it means I'll be taking religion, French, geography, physical education, math, biology, chemistry, physics, ecology, and Spanish.
I'm kind of confused about the chemistry and physics, though. I thought he told me that it would be way too hard for me, since I don't understand French and the terms will be different. Je ne sais pas.

After visiting the school, we went to a camera store. I was kind of confused as to what was going on. A man pointed to a stool, told me to sit, and then started taking my picture. I'm a sweaty mess in the photos, because I wore a sweater today. It's way too hot to wear a sweater, but I didn't really bring many options. The pictures were apparently for my train pass which my parents bought for me today. I'm pretty excited about that.

We then went out to eat. My host mother was explaining to me what everything on the menu was. I ended up getting carpaccio de boeuf avec frites et jus de pêche. Not even four months ago, I was a vegetarian. Now, I'm eating raw beef. I've never even really liked beef, but this was super tasty.

Carpaccio de boeuf 

After eating, we went to the mall to buy a cell phone. It's not the most hi-tech device, but it calls, messages, and takes pictures. I really don't need anything else in a phone. Especially if I'll only be using it for around 10-11 months. Plus, we should take into account how many times I'll drop it. If you know me, you know I'm constantly dropping electronics. It must be the energy they emit.... 

La Belgique Est Très Belle

Today makes my third day in Belgium. It’s been so hard to blog, journal, and immerse myself. By the time I actually have time to blog, I’m so exhausted that I can’t think of doing anything but sleeping.

As soon as I walked out of the airport in Luxembourg, I was overcome by this feeling of belonging. It feels as though I’m truly supposed to be here. This country doesn’t even really feel foreign. It's like I’ve lived here for years already. The only thing that reminds me that I haven’t actually been here for very long is, of course, the fact that I can’t speak/understand French. 

Because my French skills are so poor, my family will speak to me in French, then translate it to English. I’m looking forward to the day when there is absolutely no need for this. However, I have seemed to have already forgotten a little bit of English and developed a spontaneous, light accent. Perhaps there will come a time when I know neither French nor English. 

The house is very nice. It’s three stories (plus a basement), but only two of the floors are actually used on a daily basis. My room is upstairs. Dans ma chambre, il y a une douche. In my room, there is a shower. Yes, yes, I have my very own shower in my very own room. I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone in the States who shares this feature, but I find it quite convenient.

My family is wonderful. Louise, my older sister’s three year old daughter, is seriously the most precious little girl. She’s a terrible French teacher, though. When I point to something and ask her, “C’est quoi?” She responds with either, “C’est poopoo” or “C’est peepee.” I’m not sure why, but I just don’t believe her when she says either of the two phrases....

Because my Arkansan mother was wondering, my very first meal was spaghetti. I didn’t eat dinner on Saturday, because I was too tired. That being said, I like to count Sunday as my true first day here. In that case, this is what I had for breakfast, lunch, dinner, etc.:

Breakfast: Pastries that had been stuffed with chocolate, rolls of bread, nutella, butter peanut butter, rose jam (I knew there was a reason it smelled like expensive perfume...), cheese, meat, coffee, milk, and mixtures for the milk.

Lunch: A chicken (the chickens here are very small, so we each had our own chicken), green peas, and fried potatoes. It was delicious.

Snack (I believe Aurélie called it "Dimanche." That makes sense, considering it was Sunday yesterday): Four different types of tartes-- plum, pomme, sucre, and one other one that I can’t remember the name of, Belgian chocolate, Belgian cookies, and cuberdons.

Dinner: A simple, yet wonderful quiche.

It truly amuses me that I’ve known nearly every song that I’ve heard on the radio. Maybe it’s because they listen to a lot of English music like I do. I enjoy their radio music much more than I enjoy American radio music. I'm crossing my fingers and holding my toes that I will one day hear Laura Marling singing through the speakers. Just a little something that would make me quite giddy inside.

Last night, I dreamt in French. It was the most bizarre experience, because I woke up due to fatigue and exhaustion. I was so brain dead because of the dream that I couldn’t go back to sleep. T’was interesting, I’d say.

This post is kind of all over the place. So much has happened over the past couple of days. If I typed it all, we would encounter two major problems:

1. It would take me hours, causing me to detach myself from this new culture much longer than I would like for it to. 
2. Nobody wants to read one of my blog entries that is so long.
   
   Perhaps when I get into the groove of things, updating will become much easier.
   

Taste the Rainbow

As many of you know, three is my favorite number. There's no logic behind the happiness it provides me with, but I won't argue with easily achieved bliss. Crayons act in a similar way.  For that very reason, slowly cutting off the tip of this crayon was, quite possibly, one of the most difficult things I've ever done in the world of art. 

Music: Truck by The Octopus Project