J'adore Bruxelles!

Culmination

2009-01-19T20:57:00.000-08:00

My arms are still riddled with goosebumps as I recover from watching Martin Luther King Jr's speech replayed today. It is a speech that most of us can quote at least portions of, and that we have heard referred to countless times. But tomorrow, for the first time since this man has had a holiday commemorated after him, will feel almost like a culmination. It took over 45 years, but look what has changed. Look what has become. Watching Barack Obama speak in front of the Lincoln Memorial yesterday was almost absurd with symbolism. A black man, on the virge of becoming the first black president, stands on the spot on which one of the most important moments of the Civil Rights Movement took place, in the shadow of the figure who was responsible for freedom to begin to become a possibility for black citizens of our country.

And although I miss Brussels often, being here as an active citizen during this unprecidented event in history, I feel so grateful I have been here while it transpires. For the first time I was able to vote on Election Day (my first vote had been an absentee ballot in college) and cry while watching the world react to the news of Obama's victory and see our country swell with pride again for the first time in a long time and, tomorrow, watch with bated breath while he is sworn in.
Here is the speech for anyone who feels like reviewing it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbUtL_0vAJk

And here is a fun fact: the most memorable part of the speech, during the second half when MLK first refers to his "dream," is completely adlib. He is making it up on the spot.

And, politics aside, I have another exciting update: There are less than 3 months until I visit Brussels this spring! I can already taste the frites...

Some people can say it better

2008-11-20T08:39:00.000-08:00

I love finding quotes, especially when they are able to articulate something better than I can.

“Nothing is more practical than finding God,
that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination will affect everything.
It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings,
what you will do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, who you know,
what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.
Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.”
Pedro Arrupe

Ode to teaching

2008-10-29T11:39:00.000-07:00

It has dawned on me today amidst another day of substitute teaching that I really like teaching. Perhaps this doesn't seem like an entirely mind-blowing revelation, but this realization stood out to me for some reason. I love working with kids again. I guess that makes me pretty lucky to have chosen this for my career. Now if only more teachers were getting sick...

You can take the American out of Belgium...

2008-10-29T11:25:00.000-07:00

Today marks the 4 month anniversary of my return to the US. And as a consequence of now being almost completely reacclimated into the American way of life, there are some days that I forget about Europe, or Belgium, or the fact that I lived there for two years. Other days, I miss it. A lot. I have listed dozens of reasons of why I love Europe, and a dozen more about what I had missed about the States. The fact is, after you have lived in another place for a long period of time, and truly enjoyed your time there, it is hard to feel completely settled anywhere, including your original "home." There is a quote that articulates this idea better than I can:

Where We Are
i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.
there is always the anticipationof the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are.
i have always loved both the freshness of arriving and the relief of leaving.
with two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hotor cold, dry or wet:
i am talking about hope.
-gerald locklin

Belgium isn't home anymore, but at times I do ache to be back. In the meantime, I am truly enjoying the perks of being an Iowan again.

The cause for the delay in this post is because this is also the first post that won't be read by this blog's most avid reader, my mom, Karen Luthringer, who passed away mid-September. I miss her every day, and acknowledge that without her encouragement (and occasional badgering) many of these blogs would have taken a lot longer to write. :)

American back in America...

2008-08-21T15:20:00.000-07:00

A little over a year ago, I was sitting at this exact coffeehouse attempting to tackle this same topic: readjustment to life back in America. The not-so-slight difference being that this adjustment is permanent, rather than a temporary visit. Comparing Iowa to Brussels has become a common occurence, and I constantly find myself irritating my friends with endless phrases that start with "Well, in Brussels..." and "Oh, it's not like that in Europe because..." There are hundreds of differences that I have picked up on since arriving back (tundra-like conditions brought on by air conditioning, the inability to walk to most places, partaking in small talk conversation previously hindered by a language barrier, etc...) but what I think about most often is how what I learned or trained myself to think in Belgium has affected me here. The two biggest lessons I learned thanks to living in Brussels are the following:

1. Not to get worked up over the little things; it will usually work out
2. Take every opportunity to explore; who knows when you'll get this opportunity again

Being a traveler, I had to become accostomed to unexpected delays, encounters, or turns of events. If I had gotten grumpy over every missed bus or every delayed flight, I would have found myself in a state of grumpiness probably 87 percent of the time. I learned that patience and open-mindedness were absolutely ESSENTIAL to surviving my years abroad if I were to try to enjoy myself. How this translates in America is that I learn to check my watch a little less while waiting in line, and smile a little more, even if my vegetables at the restaurant are a little cold. Some things just aren't worth complaining about.

While the first life-altering lesson helps with how to deal with the unexpectedness of life, the second lesson is what helps me enjoy that unexpectedness. I have lived in Des Moines, on and off, for the last 24 years, and it wasn't until I lived abroad that I actually started seeking out new ways to enjoy it. With more freedom to my days, rather than frequent the same cafes and restaurants, I try to utilize every opportunity to try a new place or spend time with new people. And I must say, at times, it's as if I'm living in Des Moines for the first time. While previously, during my high school and early college years, I would complain about the lack of things to do in Des Moines, I know delight myself in driving aimlessly and coming across new coffeshops or parks or hearing about small concerts and obscure events (which is actually how I ended up being able to see my favorite singer Newton Faulkner in a small private concert just a couple weeks ago). My favorite feeling in Europe was that feeling of "how did I end up here again??" a feeling that, with an open mind and lots of free time, I have been able to feel again in Des Moines.

It's certainly a funny transitional period in my life right now without a stable job to bring routine to my day and the failing health of my mother. My limited obligations and practically unlimited freedom have brought an openness to my schedule I am not used to, but I value the opportunities I've been given to spend time with family and fall in love with the city that I had thought I had known so well.

I still hope to add to this blog periodically, thought it will have a different take, probably more reminiscent than retelling. But as long as I can find ways to compare these two fine countries, there will always be more stories to share.

The End of an Era...

2008-06-21T23:08:00.001-07:00

...was the title of my last class newsletter sent last week. Thursday officially marked my last day with my students. I am still struggling to grasp that my first year is actually over, and that I made it. And not only made it, but had the most amazing experience a first year teacher could ever hope for. Maybe it was because it was my first class...maybe it was because I don't have another class to compare them to...but I just adored my class and am going to miss them terribly, each individual personality, each sense of humor.
I have to keep this brief, as I am off to Slovenia in just a few hours, but I wanted to touch base before taking off on my last adventure. I will try to include more photos and details from my last days as a teacher at ISB in my next blog.
I am so excited for Slovenia. From what I hear, it's quite small, quite beautiful, and quite filled with lakes and mountains. All I am hoping to get out of this trip is a serene experience with which to say goodbye to Europe. Should be nice. :)

Change

2008-06-08T13:00:00.001-07:00

Well, here is a new topic for this blog: politics. Even though I've been overseas I have still, at least for the last 7 months, tried as best I can to stay up to date on the upcoming election. At least in my lifetime, never before has it been so crucial that we elect the right president. Living abroad has given me, I suppose, a relatively unique perspective on our government, becoming almost an onlooker surrounded by other onlookers who are just as passionate about this election as many Americans are. I feel like living in Europe has made me realize just how critical other countries are of our government and how important it is that we have their support.

I was elated to find out Barack Obama will be the democratic nominee. The way I heard about it, too, was a bit random. I will occassionally get ready listening to music on the radio in the morning, even though I usually don't know the music nor do I understand the radio DJ's when they speak between songs. I happened to be listening to a Flemish radio station, tuning out, as usual, to what was being said, when all of the sudden Barack Obama's voice came on stating,"I stand before you today to announce my candidacy for the President of the United States of America." I stopped brushing my teeth midbrush, and waited with baited breath for the explanation, only to be followed with the realization that I didn't understand what the radio DJ had to say to follow. It was an occassion I knew would be very momentous, the announcement of the Democratic nominee, and there I was alone in my bathroom, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.

Today I listened to Hilary Clinton's speech to officially resign as a democratic nominee and to also endorse Obama. I actually found myself in tears, listening to the grace and humility of this woman as she expressed her relentless support for the very man she had, until just days ago, been rivaling with. I found her speech enthralling, but what stood out to me most was this quote:

"Every moment wasted looking back keeps us from moving forward."

Couldn't be better stated. These will be a very interesting next couple months.

PS: I don't know if this will work, but here is a link where you may be able to watch the video:
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2008/06/07/us/politics/20080607_CLINTON_GRAPHIC.html#

Unspoken Understandings

2008-06-01T12:39:00.000-07:00

Living in a country in which I barely speak the language has given me a newfound appreciation for one very important thing: understanding someone without having to speak. I have had to rely on a few things in order to either understand someone or be understood this year:
-My survival level of French
-The fact that almost everyone living here speaks English
-My incredible talent in miming and performing distressed sign language

The latter has been what has allowed me to buy tickets, find a pair of scissors, and even comment on the weather. But it is when all it takes is a look to understand a situation that I have come to appreciate most. This has happened several times, but two times that stand out to me now.

The first was when I, completely in character, was running late to an engagement. I was on my usual springing-on-cobblestone-in-heels mode when I turned a corner and ran past another woman who was doing the same thing. We made eye contact for only a few seconds, but both burst into laughter at the absurdity of both our situations. I keep running to and from places in hopes of achieving the same outcome, but normally am just greeted with looks of confusion, pity, or even hostility.

The second and more recent instance of an unspoken understanding was this morning when I was on my way back from church. I was stopped at a cross walk about ready to cross a rather busy road to get to my house. Parked in the street next to me was a car whose front was edged so far into oncoming traffic that a line of cars began to form, forced to wait until their lane was no longer blocked. The owners of the car, a middle-aged couple, scurried about the car, taking things out and putting things in, almost seemingly unaware of the angry honks directed at them from the line of cars that was steadily growing. They eventually got back into the car, drove out, and even gave a little wave of apology to the lead car, whose driver just glowered at them menacingly. I glanced across the street at a couple who, like me, was enjoying the spectacle and made eye contact with the woman sitting at the table. We both smiled at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and gave a "Wow, wasn't that guy an idiot" laugh.

Language has become something so fascinating to me since I've moved here, and the longer I live here and take visits to English speaking countries, the less I take for granted the fact that there are some places I can go and be understand, and in turn, understand those around me. In the meantime, I will accept the fact that I will not understand a lot of what's going around me, but still appreciate those little moments, fleeting at best, when I completely understand what someone around me is thinking, just by meeting each other's gaze.

Field trips and road trips

2008-05-17T15:28:00.000-07:00

When I really stop to think about what I'm doing in my life, I can't help but shake my head and wonder, "How did I get here??" I have visited more countries in the last two months than I did the first seven months I was back in Europe. From March 21st-the present, I have visted the following countries (not including Belgium):

England, Ireland, Scotland, Spain, Italy, Holland, Luxembourg, France, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Germany, and the US. Phew. It's no wonder that my eyes have been doing some drooping the last few days...I am seriously sleep deprived!

One week after returning from our two week spring break in April I was off again, this time with 23 twelve year olds in tow, for the annual sixth grade field trip to Florence to study the Renaissance. I was able to help chaperone last year as well, so, fortunately, I had an idea of what to expect. We did lots of walking through the city, saw more museums than I had ever seen in my lifetime, and ate lots of gelato. No students were lost, though we faced a very close call when catching the train out of Florence. Due to a typo on our ticket (our departure time was stated as 7:44, not it's actual time which was 7:14) we literally found ourselves sprinting with suitcases, waterbottles and phones flying every which way (or at least mine were), clamboring on board with just under a minute to spare. My kids found it highly amusing to see me freak out (GET MOVING! NOW! GO, GO GO!!!) and I think really appreciated the experience of getting to run to catch something. Or at least that's what I told myself.

A week and a half after returning safely from Florence, I was off again, this time on a road trip with my good friend Mel. What started off as a low-key drive through Germany soon escalated into a "Hey, we're not too far from this country, let's visit there!" extravaganza. I was able to play the role of navigator, only getting us seriously lost once (the road signs were inadequately clear!) and loved getting to see parts of Europe that would have been completely inaccessible by train. Running across a covered bridge in Vaduz, Liechtenstein; drinking lake water in the Swiss Alps, eating apple strudel oustide a castle along the Rhine River...all of these things could take place due to our leisurely pace, open minds, and spontaneity. I had a couple of important firsts this trip as well, including (but not limited to) driving on the Audobahn (though we couldn't get the car to go above 145 km/hour) and sleeping in a parked car (two nights in a row!).

By far, my favorite part of the trip was driving along the Rhine on our way through Germany. The river is gorgeous anyway, but it is lined with absolutely exquisite towns, each filled with lots of character and quaint Germanness. The coolest part about them, though, is that most of them also feature a castle. The castles are lined along the river just as often as the towns. In the one hour that we drive along the Rhine, we saw at least 12 castes along the way. The only thing that kept me going instead of insisting on staying there forever was the knowledge that I would be back to visit someday.

So although the number of hours spent sleeping the last two months has plummeted, the hours spent experiencing things beautiful, uniqe and spontaneous outweigh any missing hours catching z's. I justify it this way-

At the end of my life, which would I rather have accumulated: memories or hours of rest? As one of my friends so eloquently puts it: you can sleep when you're dead.

Live Music

2008-04-12T14:20:00.000-07:00

The rest of the English-speaking half of my trip can be summarized by these two words: Live Music. Yes, we took a bus tour across the country of Ireland. Sure, I kissed the Blarney Stone. Absolutely I sampled haggis while I was in Edinburgh. But my absolute favorite experience in both countries was the music. One just wouldn't be able to replicate the genuine couple-of-guys-sitting-at-a-table-with-their-beers-and-instruments feeling that you find in these two countries. Instead of writing about it, I will let you, dear reader (aka Mom), experience the music for yourself.

I know I said Ireland and Edinburgh, but this is actually from Covent Garden in London...also home to some sweet music

The Celt, Dublin...the best place for Irish music

Rock show in Killarney, Ireland...note: they are a rock band but singing a catchy Irish tune

Live music at a pub in Edinburgh, with some commentary to start

Pleasant surprises

2008-04-12T14:18:00.000-07:00

I had been meaning to go back to London for quite some time now since I hadn't been able to yet this year, and with one weekend to fill before my Irish bus adventure began, I decided to fill it with someplace easy and close-ish to my eventual destination. Though I had been mostly looking forward to fulfilling my live musical void by seeing the long-awaited Lion King (which was sold out... I had to settle, instead, for Blood Brothers...not quite as magical I don't think) the highlight of my visit to the city was visiting the British Museum. A venue that hadn't quite made it to the top of my To Do list my previous 4 visits (I know, right?) I had a strong urge to visit it this time with little knowledge of what to expect. I found myself surrounded by astounding ancient artifacts, Egyptian, Roman and Greek, that, to me, seemed like the ultimate culmination of ancient wonders that I have seen in the last year. In one visit I was able to relive seeing the Parthenon and Acropolis in Athens, the Pantheon in Rome, and the pyramids and temples in Egypt.

But the absolute coolest moment was when, randomly stumbling through a doorway on the bottom floor of the museum, my attention was drawn at an artifact towards which a multitude of cameras were aimed. "Is that it?" a woman behind me asked. "I think so. Let's just take a picture of it and then get out of here." replied her companion. Curiosity taking over, I moved amass toward the glass case ahead of me. There before me stood a stone. It took a second for me to realize it, but as soon as it did, the breath was taken out of me. The Rosetta Stone. One of the most important ancient artifacts in existence. In front of me. I felt so foolish that I didn't know it was even in this museum. Kind of like the time I was standing front of a tomb in Sevilla, Spain without realizing who it belonged to until I looked down at my map. Christopher Columbus. Wait, what? Yeah...kind of like that.
The rest of my time in London was filled with yummy food, a depressing musical, tube-riding and English. Lots and lots of English. It was a short and sweet introduction to the beginning of my holiday.

Spring Break...aka...Easter Holiday

2008-04-12T13:49:00.000-07:00

My British friends laughed at me when I referred to the two weeks before last as "Spring Break," a phrase that, I assume, conjured up images of college-aged coeds "gone wild" in places like Cancun and Tijuana. "So what do you call it, then?" I asked curiously. "Easter holiday," they replied. "And what about the people who don't celebrate Easter over the break?" I inquired. I guess growing up in a society where every label must be inclusive and non-denominational has changed my own terminology. Kind of like how I was a bit surprised at my British teacher friend who had a "Days until Christmas" countdown in her classroom the weeks preceding the "Winter Break."
Anyway...terminology aside, I had a fantastic time on my...ahem...Spring Holiday. Two weeks of exploring cities in and around the UK as well as Spain with close friends will rarely be a letdown. Since each stop on our trip had its own unique culture, offering us a different experience in each place, I will give each "section" of our trip, as it were, its own blog. Hope you enjoy.

On a side note: I am leaving for Florence tomorrow for the second time on the Grade 6 field trip to study the Renaissance, this time as a lead teacher. I'm excited, but just keep praying I don't lose anybody. It will be a week of site seeing, pasta eating, and vespa dodging...oh, plus managing 23 students in a foreign country. Wish me luck!

Student-led Conferences

2008-03-13T03:10:00.000-07:00

Today has been very interesting so far. My fifth of 23 students is in the classroom right now, showing her learning portfolio to her mom. What is my role as teacher, you ask? Basically, I hang out at my desk, writing blogs, checking emails, planning for the weeks to come, facebooking (yes I admit!) until I am signaled over by the student, whereupon they summarize what they have discussed and I tell them how great they are. My role in the whole conference lasts about 10 minutes of the 45 allotted per student.
I wonder if the rest of the day will be this relaxing...

Walking Like an Egyptian

2008-02-29T23:56:00.000-08:00

Before traveling to Egypt two weeks ago, my knowledge of Egyptian people and traditions were, admittedly, rather limited to the images of pharaohs, pyramids, and walking with arms and wrists bent at awkward angles. There is nothing like traveling to the country itself to realize how little you know about it, and in this case, especially its people. I could write about how we saw the Sphinx and pyramids, crawled inside the Great one, saw the mummies of a variety of Egyptian royalty, including King Tut (side note: the reason why King Tut is so famous among other pharaohs, besides his notoriously young age, is because his tomb was the last to be discovered and was the only tomb where the treasures buried inside hadn't been stolen), walked through various ancient temples, sailed on the Nile at sunset, and flew in a hot air balloon across the Valley of the Kings and Nile. And though those experiences were unique and just as grand as you would imagine, instead I would like to focus on the people of Egypt, the people who preserve, make an industry out of, and live amongst these ancient treasures. I found myself in a constant state of intrigue when walking among Egypt's people.

We arrived in Cairo very late Saturday night/Sunday morning. I spent the last 15 minutes of the flight anxiously looking out of the window trying to find the pyramids (which I couldn't) and squealing with delight when we first spotted the Nile. We landed, got a cool traveler's visa stamped in our passports, and went out to meet the driver who would take us to our hotel. Once we got to the taxi, suddenly 3 other men appeared from the sides to offer to put our bags on top of the car. Tired and naive, we willingly handed over our bags to, who we presumed to be, our driver's helpers. It wasn't until I was the last one to get inside the taxi and they held out their hands requesting "baksheesh" for their hard work that we realized that their job was to wait for gullible American tourists such as ourselves to offer this service and request a tip afterwards. And so was our first impression of Egyptians.

Our perception changed greatly after this first encounter. All it took was a night watching Egypt play Cameroon for the Africa National Cup and seeing the whole city erupt when Egypt proved victorious. Never have I seen, nor do I think I will ever see, such a diverse range of fans (young adults, children, women, grandparents) be so passionately cheering for a team...and without a drop of alcohol present (for, you see, I am used to Belgium where most spectators are 20-30 something men chugging beer). As we were told by our Egyptian friend we met when we arrived in Cairo, "Egyptians take any excuse they can to celebrate big." And that they did: honking until 4 am, shooting out flames of fire, climbing on top of and jumping off bus stop shelters BIG. I thought it was awesome.

One of my other personal favorite Egyptian encounters was riding a metro through Cairo. The cars are separated by gender and are very, very crowded. When trying to get on with my friends, I was pushed back and couldn't get on the same car as them. So I waited for the next car and got on by myself. When I stepped onto the car, the fist thing I noticed is that I was the only tourist in the whole car. I was also the only woman without a headscarf. And so, for the first time in my life, I was the lone minority. Every woman in the car watched what I was doing, where I was stepping, what I was carrying. The novelty of my presence wore off after about 2 minutes, only leaving me with a taste of what it was to be singled out by appearance, and left me wondering what it must be like for people who feel that for much longer and more often.

The second city we visited in Egypt was called Luxor, and sat a couple hundred km south of Cairo in what they call Upper Egypt (due to the Nile flowing North). Luxor was a very pleasant change after Cairo. For what Cairo had in crowds and congestion, Luxor made up for in lush greenness off the Nile and relaxation. What we didn't realize about Luxor before we arrived is that tourism is, by far, their greatest source for income. When walking down the streets of Luxor, or at least down the main boardwalk, we wouldn't go more than 5-7 seconds without being hassled by someone offering a taxi ride or a carriage ride or fallucca ride or a ferry ride across the river. And if they weren't offering services, they were instead offering catcalls such as, "Lucky man (to our lone male traveler). How many camels for your wife?" "You look like a tourist, but you walk like an Egyptian." It left us feeling so frustrated that we actually opted to stay in our hotel at times to avoid the line of men waiting to say something to us.

And then, on our very last day in Luxor, my whole perception of people in Luxor changed. One of my friends, Megan, spotted a bakery called No Name Bakery not too far from our hotel. We went inside to be greeted by a young woman named Eman, who was more than eager to treat us to every sample they had of cookies and bread. She spoke little English, and we, even less Arabic, and so our conversation consisted of exchanging smiles and giggles and key phrases in each other's languages. It was the first time I felt like I could speak naturally to someone from Luxor without fear of them requesting a tip afterwards. And as if that encounter wasn't great enough, we moved with full tummies around the corner into a gift shop to buy some last minute souvenirs. We were greeted by another woman who spoke beautiful English and, again, was more than eager to help us. Where in most stores no items have price tags on them and everything bought needs to be haggled, this store offered prices for all items in their store catalog. And not only did we not have to haggle, but this woman willingly took her time to go through almost every story on the papyrus scrolls they were selling and what each symbol or hieroglyphic meant. Meanwhile, a man who also worked in the shop, the most quiet and considerate man I met in Luxor, kept busy serving us free drinks and pointing out gifts he thought we would like. It was the most wholesome afternoon I spent during my week in Egypt, for it finally gave my reassurance that not all salespeople were out to rip us off and not all favors would later require baksheesh. I will always be grateful for those two women to give me such a positive image of Egyptian people to replace the images I had previously harbored.

I still have much to learn about Egypt and Egyptians, but am so grateful to have finally visited a country whose culture is so different from my own. The Egyptian images in my head of pyramids and pharaohs have now been replaced by the faces of Essam and Amar, our friends in Cairo who took us to watch the soccer game and who so selflessly offered help in showing us the city. Of Eman who wanted nothing more than for us to enjoy the baked goods she and her family helped create. The woman and man in the gift shop (I'm kicking myself for not learning their names) who so patiently helped us find the best gifts to purchase. Bruises on the foreheads of men from their five daily prayers...listening to the call to prayer sounding from mosques all throughout the city...women wearing ornate and colorful headscarves, others without an inch of skin showing in their full-bodied, black burkas...rugs stacked in the train station for men to pull out and use during the call to prayer...shameless pride in faith. And all I want to do now is learn more. What a unique mindset travelers face: an insatiable need to see and learn more, for visiting one city causes the desire to see another. For as the saying goes, "The more you learn, the more you realize you don't know."

I know it's been a while...

2008-02-08T16:16:00.001-08:00

...but I have plenty of reasons why.

I have stayed very busy:
-attempting train trips to cities across Germany only to find out that I have left my cash card in Brussels with 40 euros to last the weekend

-grading

-traveling to Binche, Belgium to celebrate Dimanche Gras, the first day of Carnival celebrated by children dressing in costumes and men dressed in themed masquerade, ranging from the chef in Ratatouille to Miss Kitty, and throwing confetti all over, inside, on top of, underneath, everything

-grading

-finding new favorite tea "salons," whereby finding the best Chai tea this side of the Prime Meridian

-grading

-and planning out various trips that include, but are not excluded to, Egypt, Ireland, Scotland, Switzerland, Spain, and Prague

Such is the life of a teacher living in Europe. I am off to Cairo tomorrow with a group of friends. This will be my first outside of Europe traveling stint I will have done since coming to Europe. To be very honest with myself, it still feels quite surreal. Egypt...that's like, far away, isn't it? But I'm going to be there, gazing at pyramids, sailing the Nile, and being exposed to ancient artifacts that have been around for thousands of years. I'm not quite sure what to expect, but have a feeling that my jaw will be dropping more than once this next week. I can't wait.

Quick student story for ya'll before I call it a night:
Last week, one of my students brought in a current event that had to do with flooding in the city of Chicago. The following conversation took place as a result:
"I chose this article because I lived in Wisconsin which is near Chicago."
"When my family and I lived in India we had to leave every monsoon season, otherwise we would be flooded in."
"Yeah, it was the same thing when our family was living in Thailand."
"Like, when I was living in the Philippines, we had lots of rain and it would flood sometimes too."
"That happened to me when I was living in the Solomon Islands as well."
I just wanted to say: Would you listen to yourselves?? You have lived all over the world and that is normal for you! You are SO lucky!
But instead I nodded with interest, gave them a smile, and continued on with the lesson. Knowing one's fortune is a realization, and I, too, find that unless I remind myself of my good fortune, it is very easy to take this sort of life for granted.
It just makes me wonder: how did I get here again?

Bon nuit.

We're not in America anymore...

2008-01-21T08:03:00.000-08:00

I just had to add this quick little observation. An American student of mine celebrated her birthday today and brought in Jello as her birthday treat. Jello...an American dietery staple. The reaction of half of my students when they came in:
"What is this???"
"Is this Jello?"
"Why does it have this kind of texture?"

I gave a short survey and found out that 5 of my students had never eaten it before, and of those 4 of them had never even HEARD of it.
Very different, indeed.

Misery loves company

2007-12-27T15:02:00.000-08:00

For a change, I will start this blog with a riddle:

What do you call 5 angry passengers and 2 hungry/tired toddlers stranded at an airport?
My traveling companions Friday night on my trip home.

To really appreciate the riddle, allow me to explain the circumstances that inspired it. After the countdown of days leading to Friday, I was finally able to fly back home from Brussels to Iowa. To say I was ready to come home would do my anxiousness injustice. After a completely undramatic flight from Brussels to Chicago, I was counting myself fortunate to finally have faced no obstacles on a trip back home (which would be the first time in all of my trips back to the states). Just a few hours after boasting this fact, I was soon faced with another: my flight from Chicago to Des Moines was canceled due to fog. Disappointed but not altogether surprised, I hurriedly made my way to the ticket counter to get the details. "No more flights tonight." "We could put you on standby tomorrow morning but all the flights are full." "There is a big snowstorm expected in Des Moines tomorrow." "We are trying to make this as difficult for you as possible." These are just a few of the reassurances I received from the American Airlines staff at the ticket counter. Standing near me were several other frustrated, but more vocal passengers. "Well what in the hell are we supposed to do?!" demanded one. "I need to be in Des Moines tonight!" lamented another. "Well, you could always rent a car." was their reply. And so, with several nods of agreement, it was decided by myself and the other disgruntled passengers standing near. I trudged through O'Hare with four other adults, and two toddlers towards baggage claim to retrieve our luggage, the one consolation offered to us by the AA staff.

To our dismay, no luggage was to be found at our carousel with the exception of three sad, ownerless bags that rotated depressingly past us with out anyone to claim them. It was then that we saw the sign:
If your flight was canceled and Chicago is not your final destination, your luggage will not be picked up here, but sent to your final destination, because we would rather not search for it and give it to you while you are standing here waiting" or something to that effect.

It was then discovered, after some exploration, that there were no cars left to rent at O'Hare. After further investigation, it was determined that there were no cars left to rent in the whole city of Chicago. And so it was that we found ourselves taking a taxi to St. Charles, an hour away from the airport, to pick up our rental cars. The rest of my evening was spent dozing in and out of sleep, unable to sleep fully for fear that my driver would be doing the same. But after 5 1/2 hours of relatively uneventful fog-filled driving, we finally reached Des Moines by 1 am, 7 hours after our scheduled arrival.

Altogether, this whole adventure was an incredible learning experience for me. Our random little group became so protective of each other, now thrown into a situation that we were desperate to find ourselves out of. We each took on our roles, including babysitter (guess who took that one), taxi researcher, driver, and luggage checker. We became companions, bonded together so closely by this incident, and probably never to see each other again. One of my fellow traveling friends even said in the taxi, "If our flight wasn't canceled, than I never would have met any of you!" It really was quite comforting to at least have, if not our luggage or a flight home, each other.

It's good to be home. I've missed you, Iowa.

Coincidences...

2007-12-07T15:20:00.001-08:00

One more blog for this evening...
I just finished my last report for the night, when what song should be playing but Norah Jones' "The Long Day is Over." I love it when that happens.

Nickel Creek and coco

2007-12-07T14:30:00.000-08:00

I am writing this post with no other intention than to delay writing my report cards for as long as possible. Yes, I have reached another first: The First Report Cards, probably the most dreaded of all the other firsts, as they take the most time to prepare and are the most "permanent."
So to alleviate the complete burden that are report cards, I have cozied up with piles of papers and grading books with my laptop playing the ever-soothing Nickel Creek and cup of steaming hot coco. I figure if I'm going to be doing something this intense, I would want to be doing it in comfort (For the record, I have been at these on and off for six hours now).
With only two weeks until I fly back to the states I am having a hard time focusing on anything other than the excitement of being back at my home again. It's a rather interesting dynamic at school right now when both teachers and students are already getting themselves in gear for a two week break and where school is the last place either wants to be right now. I am surrounded by reminders that Christmas is near. It's in the lights on the streets, the large evergreen tree lit up with lights outside our town hall, in the markets set up all across Europe, and drifting through the speakers of my computer from streaming in a radio station from back home that plays nothing but Christmas music all day long. And all I can think about is being back home for the holidays, for as the song says,"Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays!" Which I think is especially appreciated when coming home after what will be almost 5 months.
Better get back to reports. Stay tuned for my next blog on how to keep 21 pre-pubescent and hormonal children interested in improper fractions the week before winter break.

Almost there...

Where should we go this weekend?

2007-11-23T06:13:00.001-08:00

I don't know. Let's just go to the train station on Saturday and see where the trains are going.

A conversation similar to this one took place in the beginning days of last week when discussing plans for the weekend. Feeling spontaneous, that's exactly what we did. With no reservations, both train or accommodation, we arrived at the train station in the wee hours of Saturday morning with minimal expectations and maximum enthusiasm. Feeling inspired, I wrote the following journal entry on my way to the train station:

I've Got a Ticket to No/Anywhere (The "no" was crossed out)
Not physically (yet!) but in my heart. I am especially excited for this trip because it truly is one of my first traveling "adventures." No known destinations (though we have some in mind), no reservations, no plans. Just us, a train, and a yet to be known city. I have my coffee, ipod, journal, Bill Bryson, and stack of biographies to grade. I can't wait to get started! (with the trip of course, not the grading). Here goes anything!

Upon arriving at the train station, we anxiously glance up at the list of destinations to see which we felt the desire to visit.
Amsterdam? Mmm, another weekend perhaps.
London? Too expensive.
Paris? Ditto.
Cologne? What's in Cologne? I don't know. A cathedral? Well, that sounds nice.
And so Cologne it was. At 40 euros round trip, we knew it was our most financially practial option, and with the next train leaving in 20 minutes, we decided it was probably our best timed option as well.

We arrived in Cologne, Germany with high hopes and hungry tummies. Cologne (or Koln if spelled in German) boasts the largest Gothic structure in the world, a cathedral located literally a stone's throw away from their central station. After doing the obligatory tourist gawking and photo taking, we then steered away from the cathedral in the direction of the nearest pretzel stand (we were in Germany, afterall). With pretzels in tow, we then headed through the commercial downtown in the direction of the Old Town and Rhine River, located perhaps 1-2 miles away from the cathedral. On the way we passed not one, but TWO weddings taking place in the same, we presumed to be, town hall. This experience gave us a glimpse into the German wedding ediquette spectrum. While one wedding party was dressed with upmost poshness and sipping champagne, the one celebrating outside right beside it was accompanied by two men, one playing clarinet and the other playing the saxophone, playing along with a boombox to the tune of Careless Whispers. As if that wasn't interesting enough to watch enough, one of the men left the other to walk around with his hat requesting donations. It was all very...intriguing.

So with that taste of Cologne...um...culture, we wandered the streets of Cologne in search of quaint Germanness, which came somewhat in the form of it's Old (and might I add small) Town. It was altogether pleasant, but by 3:00 we were wondering how else we were going to spend our afternoon. I raised the suggestion of visiting another German city, and due to its proximity and affordability, we soon found ourselves on a train to Dusseldorf, Germany, on yet another unexpected adventure.

We arrived in Dusseldorf without so much as a clue as to what could be found there. Our first impressions were rather grim, as the part of the city directly in front of the train station has that whole high-rise, busy-street sort of feel, not at all like the pleasant image of Germany we all had in mind. Of the four of us, two wanted to head back to Brussels that evening, which gave us an hour to spend in Dusseldorf. We were just starting to get the feeling of "Come on, Germany, you can do better than this", when we stopped a local to ask "If you had an hour to spend in Dusseldorf, how would you spend it?" He directed us to Dusseldorf's version of an Old Town, to which we walked quick in step and low in expectations.

As soon as I saw the cobblestone I knew our feelings toward Dusseldorf would change. As soon as I saw the lines of cafes and restaurants I knew we would end up staying more than an hour. And as soon as we walked around it's quaint shopping, pedestrian streets after checking into a perfectly young traveler-friendly hotel, I knew I was in love. Dusseldorf's Old Town sits just on the Rhine River and is filled to the brim with lovely shops (all decked out for Christmas) and authentically German pubs, cafes, and restaurants. We dined on authentically German cuisine (four varieties of pork, potatoes, and saurkraut) and sampled authentically German night-life (in fact, one of my friends and I learned the dance moves to a very interesting and popular German song about a lasso). We had an AMAZING time and I only regret that we gave ourselves only one night to spend there. I can't wait to return.

I wrote the following journal entry waiting for the train back to Brussels in a sweet cafe right by the train station:

Letting Fate Run its Course
Perfect, perfect, perfect ending to this trip. Thank you, God, once again for putting me in a situation that makes me realize that I am right where I am meant to be. I am ending this trip relaxed, drinking tea, and writing in my journal. How utterly perfect. Though Koln offered nothing extraordinary, Dusseldorf was everything I wanted out of this trip: spontaneous, exciting, and altogether perfectly German. The perfect German hotel led to the perfect German street on which rested the perfectly German restaurant and bars. Hooray for another city I will look back on with sincerest affection.

So who's to say planning ahead is always best?

In honor of the Thanksgiving holidays, I am especially thankful for these opportunities to see the world and make me appreciate what God has created. I would never be able to see this in such a way had I not been given the opportunity to work here. Being in situations such as this make me thankful as well for such wonderful people in my life to enjoy them with, and people, who may not be here physically, but who are certainly here in support and who so graciously listen to my accounts of these events. THANK YOU!

Strolling Through Scandinavia

2007-11-10T05:26:00.000-08:00

There are so many reasons I love teaching at ISB. I love the diversity in culture and nationality. I love the different perspectives and experiences students bring to the classroom. And I love, a little more self-indulgently, the holidays. Though our various weeks and days off throughout the year are compensated at the end of the year when the school isn't dismissed for summer until the end of June, the holidays scattered throughout the year are little gifts straight from heaven to teachers that, upon reflection, I can't imagine ever teaching without.
The first holiday of the year is a week off for our half-term, otherwise known as Fall Break. To see a new part of Europe, and to pay homage to our collegiate roots, a group of friends and I decided to scamper up north to Scandinavia and visit the capital cities of Stockholm, Sweden and Oslo, Norway (the country from which Luther's founders came). Each city seemed vastly different from each other, and each gave my group of friends and I a different taste of Scandinavia.

Stockholm can only be described as a picture-perfect, quaint European paradise. Timeless in its architecture and street design, I found that Stockholm is to Scandinavia what Salzburg is to western Europe: perfection. Its narrow, cobbled, pedestrian roads would wind throughout its old town, leading my friends past various cafes and shops uniquely Scandinavian, seemingly unscathed by American chains or commercialism. Its mostly bleak weather did nothing to break our spirits, but in fact gave us an excuse to by Swedish mittens and stop into more cafes to escape the cold. With an incredible group to travel with, my trip to Stockholm will always remain in my head as one of my favorites I've taken since arriving in Europe.

After visiting Stockholm, we knew that Oslo had a lot to live up to. And boy, did it not. After such a charming city as Stockholm, the big, dirty city feel of Oslo became even more prominent. Its one major street, Karl Johan's Gate, became our only means of finding entertainment. If I were to sum up our trip to Norway with one word, it would be "wandering." Wandering to find things to do, wandering to find the coast to watch the sunset, wandering to find things to do at night. Throughout our trip to Oslo, we found ourselves in a perpetual state of lost. Had it not been for the amazing company I found in my traveling companions, Oslo would have been a complete bust. I am being harsh. There were some enjoyable parts to Oslo as well (and even more so if we had been there in the summer when more things, like ferries to the fjords, had been open) like a really cool sculpture park on the outskirts of the city, or the island of Bygdøy and it's charming tea room, or Grünerløkka, which is considered to be the "Greenwich Village" of Oslo with its square and charming restaurants. But overall, Oslo left a bit do be desired. What our trip did for me, though, was give me more of a reason to go back and visit another Norwegian city, knowing the charm of Decorah, Iowa, which reeks of its Norwegian heritage, must have been inspired by a village somewhere in Norway.
In the meantime, I will always look back on our trip with fond memories. Though the cities themselves had somewhat of an impact on how much we enjoyed the trip, the group with whom I traveled were the major contribution to how much fun I had during the week. I think one way to measure how a trip went is to identify which emotion emerges when reminiscing about that trip. And when I look back on this trip, I will always remember it with a smile. And often with a laugh. :)

PTC

2007-10-18T08:44:00.000-07:00

La la la

I just had my last (of 24) parent teacher conferences of the day with 14 still to look forward to tomorrow. I am still reveling, my head still swarming, my adrenaline still pumping, from what an overall success it was. I get such a looming picture in my head before all of these firsts (day of school, open house) but when finally faced with it it as never as traumatizing or scary in real life as I had imagined. In fact, in my last conference, we spent half the time discussing Harry Potter and which of the series were our favorites and how many minutes we spent crying during the last book and why they are so valuable for children to read.

Any year after this is going to be a rude awakening, I fear. This is just way too fun.

What happens when the sun comes to Brussels

2007-10-16T09:58:00.000-07:00

1. Take a trip to a spa...in Spa

Last weekend, during which I celebrated my 24th (whoa!) birthday, my friends and I found ourselves basking in the sun of the most beautiful weekend we have seen in Brussels since our arrival. For 48 solid hours the sky remained cloudless, the daytime completely filled with sun.

We had the good fortune of timing this glorious weekend with a day trip to the town of Spa, Belgium (the city afer which all other spas got their name) to treat ourselves to complete rest and relaxation. At one point, after our "relaxation massage," one of my friends and I actually found ourselves sunbathing outside on one of the spas decks. In Belgium. In October. This is a rarity to which I cannot give an explanation justice. It was the most glorious way to spend a day in the sun.

2. Birthdays and books

To celebrate my birthday, I continued my restful weekend by spending the afternoon in one of Brussels' many parks with my dear friend Megan, my Ipod, a book, and an ice cream cone (though the ice cream's presence was rather short-lived). Having left all of my school work at school (my birthday gift to myself) I had nothing to think about but what was going to happen to Sal, Peeby, and Sal's sweet grandparents in the book Walk Two Moons (okay, children's literature, but it wasn't entirely for school). My blissful day was made complete with a phone call from my family (see photo) and a delightful dinner back home with my sweet friends.

Overall, I couldn't have imagined a better way to celebrate my birthday in Belgium.

PS:

I am using blog-writing right now as a means to procrastinate writing the parent-teacher conference notes looming over my head that need to be finished before Thursday. But I promised myself I wouldn't devote this entire blog to something school related...for a change.

Open House

2007-09-25T09:28:00.000-07:00

Go figure...a blog about school. Perhaps I should change this blog website to "teacherinbrussels." I am about to embark on another one of my firsts of my career: The First Open House. The parents will be here in 45 minutes, and I will be standing up front, speaking (hopefully) and turning bright red. It will be fantastic. Here goes...

Peace Day 2007

2007-09-21T09:51:00.000-07:00

I think it must have been when five of my students came up to me before class started this morning to give me hugs. Or when I looked out and noticed that two of my students were wearing homemade Peace Day shirts. But at some point this morning, I realized that this was going to be an amazing day. I must have declared, "I wish every day was Peace Day!" at least 6 different times today. The fact that it was sunny outside the ENTIRE day capped off what was, quite certainly, the perfect day. The kids were incredibly well behaved. All of the teachers were in superb moods (perhaps it was because we were fed breakfast in the faculty lounge this morning...my first Belgian bacon since I've arrived!) And the entire spirit of the school was at the highest I've seen since the first day of the school.

To those of you who may not have known, Peace Day was first established by a man named Jeremy Gilleve in 2001 and passed unanimously by the UN as a day of global ceasefire and nonviolence. (To learn more about the day check out its link http://www.peaceoneday.org/)

So with sun, Peace Day Commitments, Peace Day pledges, hugs, hearing the word "peace" said in multiple languages, Cat Stevens (Peace Train) and peace pinwheels, I thought for sure the day could not possibly get any better. That is, until, we had a Peace Day send off with John Lennon's Give Peace a Chance. The kids, singing along with their hands waving in the air and clapping, will forever be imprinted in my mind as the image that will always represent this day for me as a teacher.

Peace out, ya'll.

Photo time

2007-09-18T08:45:00.000-07:00

Well it's about time, you say? Here are some photos to show what my kiddies in my first classroom get to gaze upon every day.

Here you can see our desks and one of our display boards. Our first language arts bulletin board was a creation after reading the book The Three Questions and practicing being philosophers.
I had the students bring in what is called a ME item, something from home that represents them. The items range from trophies to family photos to a pair of shoes made out of fish that come from Iceland ("The used to not have anything else to make them out of!")
Ahhh...my nook. Photos and cards and attempted neatness are what sometimes get me through those rather crazed afternoons when it's rainy and the kids are nutty.

The children had to bring in their Life Timelines to show the major events that have happened in their 11 years of life. My favorite one was my baseball-crazy Japanese student who designed his timeline to be in a baseball diamond (you can kind of see the outline of it...it's the third from the left on the bottom). He also included his family as the "line-up" on his score card. So cool.

More to come (eventually). There is so much going on in class, that I am finding myself just click-click-clicking away!

Welcome to 6LU!

2007-09-06T12:37:00.000-07:00

Today marks the end of Day 7 of 177 of my first year as a teacher. A REAL teacher. Since the day I accepted the position last April my head has been swarming with ideas, questions, and thoughts leading to excitement and anxiety. Will I have a good first day of school? Will my students like me? Will I be prepared? What will teaching be LIKE?
Well...my questions have been answered. And the truth is, I never expected teaching to be like this. Or rather, not for me. And what I mean by that is, all I want to do is be in the classroom. All I want to do is teach. All I want to do is be with my class. I am completely attached to every single student. I am so happy to go in every day to see them. I come in and I can't wait for them to arrive. Every day I can't help but remind myself of how lucky I am. My students are so good that they come in, get their morning message journals, and sit quietly waiting for me to start. It was that way on the very first day of school, and it continues to be that way today. During transition periods when they are coming back from anther class (i. e. music, French/English, etc...) they come in, sit down, and read. Um, excuse me. Isn't it supposed to be harder than this? And this is the part that blows me away the most: when I speak, they are quiet! They don't talk! In my head and in my first day of school nightmares that preceded the first day of school I had always imagined my sixth graders to be like my first graders (squirmy, chatty, distracted) but twice the size. Turns out, they DO mature as they get older. And I know it's still early on and perhaps they may grow out of this amazing behavior. And I know there will be conflicts (they do have hormones, after all), but right now I am just reveling in the excitement and ease that is the beginning of this first year. I am so happy right now. I just have to remember this feeling when things do become more difficult and challenging, which is inevitable (but I won't waste time worrying about that yet).
And for the record, here is another cool thing about my class: my students are from everywhere! The following countries are represented somewhere within my group of 22: France, India, England, Holland, America, Portugal, Israel, Germany, Japan, Sweden, Norway, Venezuela, Turkey, Belgium, Canada, Iceland, and Korea. Only 6 of my students speak English at home. And what I love the absolute most is that I look out and there is a rainbow of skin colors ranging from the whitest of white to tan and brown. That in itself makes me so happy to just look at them. They are beautiful!
So enough gushing. I mustn't forget that unless you are a teacher it is hard to appreciate or listen to teaching stories. But like I said, I am finding it hard to think about anything else! I have had an amazing last couple of weekends that have included the Latino Festival two weeks ago and the Beer Festival last weekend. Both were full of culture and full of excitement...among other indulgences. :)
Photos to come later...
In the meantime, ciao and goodnight!

6 LU

2007-08-28T09:20:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow is the big day. The day that determines if I am truly prepared to teach on my own. Until these last few weeks, I really had no idea what goes into the first first day of school. How am I going to decorate my walls? What will my rules be? What are our class jobs? Where will our portfolios go? HOW WILL I INTRODUCE MYSELF? What will we do right away on the first day? How will the students do make-up work? How strict to I have to be? How often will I integrate technology? How will I assess them in math? Reading? Spelling? Writing? Should I send an introduction letter to the parents? Which students can sit by each other? Which of my students don't speak English? Where will their notebooks go? Should I assign lockers? Where can I find binder dividers? Where do I take my bus line? Do I allow the kids to see the classroom before I get them to bring them up before school? Will they like me??? And these are only a fraction of the questions I have had to ask myself and others in the past 3 weeks. 3 weeks! What have I been doing all of this time that I still don't feel ready for tomorrow?? I am exaggerating. If I left this very minute I am sure I would make it just fine through the day (By the way it is 6:30 pm). But in the life of a teacher there is always something more that could be done.
We had new student orientation today and I got to meet five of the six students that are new to the school. They were all so sweet and open to discussion and they left me on a high the rest of the morning. Yes! This is what I'm here for! I just hope that feeling lingers throughout the week...the term...the year!
Here goes. Wish me luck.

A rainy day in Brussels town

2007-08-14T10:11:00.001-07:00

Ah, it's good to be back! I've now been back in Brussels for 6 days and have managed to move out of my old apartment, move into my new one, do some rearranging in my new classroom, and attend hours of meetings dealing with taxes, lunch cards, and the philosophy of ISB. My To Do list continues to grow, which is expected when moving into an unfurnished apartment, but considering this is the first time I've moved into an apartment with out anything being provided, I find that more and more things I had just always taken advantage of keep jumping on my To Do list as well. Included on my list are setting up a phone line and Internet (I'm using the computer in my old apartment right now since the apartment is still being leased by the school), switching the utilities into my name, and picking up a rug and washing machine that I had purchased last year that I couldn't move without a car. My roommate, Amy, moves in Sunday, and I'm excited to see her again for many reasons, one of which is her car that she will be bringing. It will certainly make moving and shopping for our apartment exponentially easier without having to walk everything everywhere.

It feels great to be back. There is an amazing group of new hires, including 4 Luther interns (one of whom is my friend Megan who was here last year as a student teacher), who have all done loads together in these first couple weeks. I hosted the first Sunday market chicken dinner on Sunday to celebrate moving into my new apartment and the fact that I now live right behind the market. We've had an equal number of rainy days to sunny days, which is significantly better than last year when it rained for the first 17 days I was here. And tomorrow is a holiday, which means all shops and businesses will be closed (including the school) so I have no choice but to reacquaint myself with the city of Brussels by walking around and drinking coffee in cafes.

Have I mentioned that it's good to be back?

I've missed you, Iowa

2007-08-02T15:23:00.000-07:00

So today marks Day 26 of being back in the states. With only 5 more days remaining of my summer, I am beginning to reflect on the reasons that I have missed/will miss not only Iowa, but different aspects of the states in general. The following are the things I've forgotten I've missed about living in the states:
1. Driving a car-7 months of not driving one is a long time. I couldn't wait to get behind the wheel of my old but reliable Chevy and cruise around Des Moines with my music blaring and windows rolled down.

2. Stores open past 6 or anything open 24 hours-I went to Target at 9 pm just because I could. I ate at Perkins at 2 am. I love that I don't have to do all of my shopping before I eat my dinner.

3. Eavesdropping-I never realized that I would miss it until I realized I couldn't do it living in a country whose language I'm only beginning to understand. There is only so much of a conversation that you you can grasp when you're listening in and only catch "tomorrow," "car" and maybe "it's hot outside."

4. Small talk-Similar to the previous item, I never realized I would miss small talk until I couldn't make it anymore. Though it did make me appreciate it all the more when I could answer someone's question if they asked what time it was or the name of the next bus stop, it was very frustrating to only be able to say things like "I take the chicken" or "I am looking for shirt" or "It's hot outside." When I arrived back to the states a month ago, I found myself answering questions with way more words than I needed to use, and it was all I could do to limit the conversation to the original topic and not talk just for the sake of talking. It just got me so excited to be able to explain things without answers containing only one word.

5. Free refills-Unlimited coffee and free, refillable water are two of the things I will always miss the most when living in Europe.

6. Courtesy-I will miss being ushered ahead at a store or being told "please" and "thank you" so often that it makes me sick. It took moving to Europe to really appreciate how considerate most Americans are (I say most because I am just now being kicked out of a coffee shop 10 minutes before they close).

I'm sure I will think of more reasons after I move back to Brussels, like that whole "You don't know what you've got til it's gone" motto. But until then, I will keep sipping on my refillable coffee, shopping at 10 pm, and talking to everyone I see just because I can.

The Traveling Halts...for Now...

2007-07-11T13:18:00.000-07:00

Today marks Day 5 of 31 days I will in the US before returning to Brussels in August. Paul and I returned back to the US on Saturday with minimal drama on our trip home. Our two week stint in Italy and Spain was filled with an assortment of delicious food, drinks, interesting conversations with fellow backpackers, museums, excursions, trains, walking, sun, the sea, minimal sleep, and one exciting and dramatic turning of events involving a lost backpack (stay tuned to hear the culmination of events in the next post in a story entitled "The Odyssey: A Backpack's Story”). I will do my best to summarize each of the four cities visited using a thinking routine I introduced in my blog at the start of my time in Europe entitled Headlines.

1. Venice-A sequel better than the original
Though my friend and I enjoyed Venice when we visited two years ago, I felt like our trip was too short to really have done the city much justice. In fact, we only spent a day walking around the city trying to squeeze in a couple of museums, a gondola ride, and finding accommodation (the place we had booked was, I do believe, in line to be the setting of a Venetian horror movie).
Everything about our trip to Venice this time was delightful and relaxing. In a city that is carless and tiny, it is hard to feel rushed or stressed about life. We spent much of our time walking around the island, crossing various bridges over various canals, and utilizing an opportunity to watch glass makers on the island of Murano create an authentic Venetian glass creation. We had only a day and a half, but since I had been there before it was easier to navigate and filter out only the places we really wanted to spend time. We managed our time so well that with a few hours to spare in the afternoon we decided to leave our route up to fate and created a navigation game using cards to determine which way we would turn and for how many blocks we would continue on. We found ourselves walking through tiny Venetian neighborhoods and eventually ended up on the opposite side of the island from which we started. We had a blast getting lost and venturing through areas of Venice that we would have never explored had it not been for fate and our deck of cards. We got everything out of Venice that we had expected: sun, relaxation, an adventure, and delicious Italian food.

2. Rome-I'd do as the Romans do if I could find some Romans!
I found Rome the most enjoyable of the four cities that we visited, but, as the title implies, the least amount of locals. Though I loved exploring the sites and walking around the city, I found that my cousin and I were just two Americans in crowds of hundreds more all visiting Rome at the same time. And although usually when I find myself being surrounded by other tourists I enjoy the city less, Rome had so much to offer with its history and architecture that even the masses of tourists we always seemed to be surrounded by still couldn't make it less enjoyable.
During our time in Rome, we managed to have a guided tour of the Vatican (including St. Peter's Basilica and the Sistine Chapel), another tour of the Colosseum and surrounding Roman ruins, and walk through many of Rome's vast piazzas. We happened to time our tour perfectly to see the Vatican, because included in our tour was to be participants in the Papal Audience, where Pope Benny himself greeted us (and hundreds of others) inside St. Peter's. The Sistine Chapel and School of Athens were both too incredible to grasp and the enormity of St. Peter's and the Colosseum were basically unfathomable. I was also pleased to learn this week historians voted the Colosseum to be one of the new Seven Wonders of the World...and we were inside it! Pretty surreal. I would definitely visit Rome again, this time with some sort of recording device to record all of the interesting information told to us by our amazing tour guides and maybe at a time when not every other American visiting Europe are in Rome at the same time.

3. Barcelona-Tainted again by silly Spaniards
As some of you may recall, the last time I visited Barcelona my purse, including my camera, was stolen my last night in the city. And though I left Barcelona this trip with nothing in the hands of a thief, I left this time with my luggage in the hands of an airport's courier staff and in the hands of the most incompetent hostel staff I've ever come across during my time in Europe.
Paul and I had a blast in Barcelona, walking almost everywhere, returning to my favorite sites from last time, and seeing sites that I didn't have a chance to see before. We met some great people at our hostel and spent 4 days exploring the sites and soaking up the sun. However, this time, I spent almost the whole time in one outfit since the rest of my clothes and luggage had been lost at the airport. Yes, I spent the whole time in Barcelona without my bag and, until I gave in and bought one more shirt, in the same clothes. Now, I won't get into the incompetency of the staff in this blog because, frankly, I'm just sick of talking about them, but suffice it to say I had to leave Barcelona to our next destination without my things because of their irresponsibility. Okay. That's it.
What this trip has done for me, actually, is made me more determined to visit Barcelona and have a completely flawless trip, where all of my things stay in my possession from beginning to end. I know you can do it, Barcelona!

4. Sevilla-Sun, Flamenco, and Tapas!
I love Spain for many reasons: the rich culture, the rhythmic music, the proximity to the sea, the sun, the palm trees, but, what makes me crave going back again and again, is the amazing food in the form of tapas, assortments of appetizers ranging from vegetables to seafood to omelettes. Paul and I ate tapas for almost every meal in Spain, Barcelona as well as Sevilla. They are affordable, accessible, and almost always delicious.
I fell in love with the city of Sevilla. My only complaint is that we simply did not have enough time there (only a day and a half because of train scheduling). We had flawless weather, we got to watch a live Flamenco show (Sevilla is where Flamenco began) and we managed to see all of the sites we wanted to in just the short time we were there. My two favorite sites were the Real Alcazar and the Placa de Espana. Real Alcazar is a palace located in the center of Sevilla that is known for its beautiful gardens, though I would consider them jungles due to their enormity and beauty. The Placa de Espana is an enourmous horseshoe shaped building that sits a little out of the center of the city. One of the reasons I loved it is because it was absolutely BEAUTIFUL and almost empty of tourists! There were perhaps ten people there at the most, us included. The absence of hoards of tourists made it seem all the more authentic and enjoyable.
Sevilla was also the city where I was finally reunited with my bag after SIX days thanks to the remarkable and helpful staff at the Triana Backpackers hostel. So thanks to them, and thanks to what we found in the city, Sevilla will also have a special place in my heart (wow, that line is cheesy...but it's so true!)

All in all, Paul and I thoroughly enjoyed our backpacking experience. We were both ready to be back home by the end of our trip (I was especially ready to put on clean clothes) but both agreed that the next time we travel together we would spend a little less money, a little less time stressing about bags, and a little more time embracing the city and the fact that we are, in fact, living the time of our lives.

Backpacking like real backpackers

2007-06-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

Coming to you live, from Venice, Italy. I promised myself that I wouldnt (I cant find the apostrophe on this Italian keyboard) check the internet while I was away, but I wanted to send out a quick update on the happenings of this last month. To sum up, Ive had guests for the last 3 weekends (first my cousin, Corey, coming to visit from Germany, then a couple past interns from ISB, and now my cousin, Paul, visiting from Iowa) and have had a blast having the company. It was great to see Corey again 3 years since we last saw each other, it was refreshing to swap stories with the other interns, and it has been awesome having my cousin visiting my now. Last weekend a group of us visited Amsterdam and had a BLAST walking around and seeing the sites. This time I visited the Van Gogh and Heinekin Museums. I found the Heinekin Museum actually surprisingly wonderful, very interactive and incredibly interesting.
One last update and then Im off to explore: Paul and I will be (as the title implies) backpacking through Italy and Spain for about 2 weeks before we head back to the States. I love Venice even more now than I did the first time. It is far more beautiful and charming than I remember and am excited to just spend our time wondering and exploring. We are staying at a campsite (a first for me) which has surprised me enormously with its appeal and charm. There is a restaurant, bar, supermarket and I am typing this in its Cyberbus, a double decker bus renovated to have computers on the upper deck. We are off to a great start so far, and it is just the beginning! I will send an update when I arrive back in the states. Until then...Ciao!

One more photo, or no?

2007-06-03T10:28:00.000-07:00

There are some things that I've done this year that make me stop and think with amazement,"Wow, did I actually do that?" There are other things I've done this year and look back on with embarrassment and think, "Wow, did I actually do that?" Last night, after months of anxiously waiting, I was able to see Josh Groban in concert right here in Brussels. Josh has been one of my favorite musicians for years, and last night was the second time seeing him in concert. The concert was incredible and at times I couldn't believe that he was in the same room as me, singing these songs I've been listening to for years. After the show, my friend and I went outside to do the obligatory stalking. Unfortunately, half of the audience had the same idea. We some how finagled our way to the front of the gate outside his van and waited for about 45 minutes until he came out. What I love most about Josh, besides his amazing vocal talent, is the fact that he seems to have just an awesome personality, cracking silly jokes during the concert, and then, just as I had imagined it, he was taking the time to come out and sign autographs for the fans who were waiting outside. As he was getting closer and closer to us I couldn't think of anything but "I have to get a photo with him, I have to get a photo with him." When he arrived at our spot, 2 Belgian girls squeezed around us, begging him for a photo. Though his body guard was urging him to move on, he complied to take the photo. After, he moved on to my friend and me, and while he was signing a postcard of mine, all I could muster was "Thanks, Josh." He then asked us where we were from, my friend answered, and he started walking away. Of all the things I could say like "Welcome to Brussels," or "You were fantastic" or "I love your music" or even "Can you stay in Belgium and marry me?" all I could eek out was "One more photo, or no?" He looked at me apologetically and responded "They [his bodyguards] said I can't." And that was it. I have become so obsessed with documenting events with photographs that when it comes time to profess my love (not really) to the musician I most admire, all I can say to him is a weak request for a picture. Well, that was a wake up call. I guess this means I'll just have to see him in concert again. I'm so lucky that I got to meet him at all, but next time I'll try to be a little more conversational.

Tre Belge

2007-06-03T10:22:00.001-07:00

I have been collecting spare change since the beginning of the year in a little mug I keep in my room. I had mostly just 1, 2, 5, and 10 cent pieces, with a few 20 cent pieces thrown in there as well. Since it is nearing the end of the year, I thought it was about time to cash in my change. I stopped by the bank on Thursday with all of my change in a baggie, not having the slightest clue how much money I had altogether. When I gave the man at the bank my baggie, he slipped it into another bag, sealed it up, and then asked me how much I had inside. I said I didn't know. He looked back at the bag, studied it for about 7 seconds, then remarked, "15 euros." And that was that. No weighing, no counting. Just a glance, estimation, and I am now 15 euros richer. Sometimes I find the Belgian indifference so refreshing.

Florentine Frescoes

2007-05-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

One of the benefits to working in international schools, in Europe especially, is the accessibility to other countries and the opportunities for field trips to those other countries. So, during the 6th grade unit on the Renaissance, it is only appropriate to transport 130 sixth grade students and 20 chaperones to the city of Florence, the Renaissance mecca. I was fortunate enough to be one of those chaperones, and had the most amazing time exploring the city and all of its museums and discovering a new appreciation for art I only would have acquired by being with students whose enthusiasm for the art was contagious. I learned so much, and am still not sure how I was lucky enough to go (I was accepted to help chaperone even before I applied for the 6th grade position next year). At almost every museum the classroom teacher I accompanied had the students stop and write down something in their journals, either questions that had to be answered or a sketch or just something memorable they'd like to take note of. At each of these opportunities, I, too, wrote down some thoughts I was having at the time. So here you go, some excerpts of my Florentine thoughts.

Sunday, 20-5-07
I'm in Italy. I am so infatuated with this city, in fact, that I haven't yet thought, "Oh, I was I was here with friends rather than sixth graders." Maybe it's because the teachers and students with whom I am traveling are fantastic. Maybe it's because we're about to eat Free, Delicious Dinner #1. Whatever, the reason, I am so excited for this week. What a great feeling it is when it's just the beginning of something I am so excited for!

Monday, 21-5-07
Sipping Tea in Florence
Here I am at a cafe in Piazza San Marco. It is my morning off and, besides getting a bit turned around at the Duomo, it has been absolutely "perfecto." Walking, shopping, tea, writing...what an ideal way to spend a morning in Florence.

Frescoes in the San Marco
The children have been asked to draw a picture of something that inspires them, much like the frescoes inspired the monks that lived in the cells in which they were painted. What would I draw?

Singing in the Piazza Signori
What a fantastic evening! What started as an opportunity for those in the strings to earn some extra credit turned into a mini-medley of spontaneous tunes, including such songs as I Like to Move it, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, and American Pie. Those who I have pegged as shy even became enthusiastic, either to sing or while their friends were singing. We might do the same thing tomorrow evening, but there is always something more memorable and special about the unplanned.

Tuesday, 22-5-07
An Appreciation for Art
What has been a pleasant surprise for me this trip is my newfound appreciation for art and the story behind the piece.

Donatello's Magdalena
I am actually shaking and jittery after having seen this piece of art, probably especially after hearing the children's reaction to it (one of the girls said that in the sculpture, Mary Magdalene looked like she had a heavy burden and regret...and this was before she even knew the story from the bible). And thank goodness we had the room practically to ourselves for a while! It's crowded now, and it's always more difficult to soak in an experience when you feel rushed to move to let someone else in. I am so grateful to have this experience, especially in the presence of children whose observations and interpretations are always incredible to me. How fortunate I am that I get to use this experience to influence my teaching next year, that I have been able to see this city that reeks of the Renaissance influence and is sprinkled with its remnants.

Wednesday, 23-5-07
Inspiration to Learn
Because of this trip, now, more than ever, do I find myself craving any education material I can get my hands on. I just want to learn! One of the reasons I enjoy this profession is being able to teach children what I know. After this trip I just want to know more! Oh, how I crave the acquisition of knowledge!

Thursday, 24-5-07
Florentine Tea: Take Two
La la la. Here I am back at another cafe. I feel the most European when I'm sipping something outside at a cafe.

Friday, 25-5-07
Ciao to Firenze
I am sitting here in Piazza Signore about to sip on my last Florentine tea. I chose this spot, even though it is overpriced, because from where I am sitting I have the perfect view of the steps on which my favorite part of the trip took place. Minus the swarms of tourists in the square, this is the perfect way to say "ciao" to the city that has caused so much inspiration for me this week. I'll top the week off with a cone of gelato and then be on my way. Ciao Bella!

Yay for technology

2007-05-15T13:15:00.000-07:00

I am writing this blog from my bed right now, a first for this blog-writer. The explanation for this progression? All teachers at ISB next year are now equipped with laptops! And not just any laptop. A tablet laptop, the kind with the swivel screen that turns into a notebook. Oh, and it also has wireless Internet, which explains my accessibility from this lying down position I am currently in. And I'm not informing you to boast, but rather as a reality check. I've never owned a laptop before, let alone one I didn't have to pay for.
On a side note, in the elementary school next year every other child will also have a laptop in the classroom. The following year, EVERY child will have his or her own laptop. Outrageous use of funding? Perhaps. I won't think too much about it as of yet, considering the fact that I'm still adjusting to the novelty of being able access Season 3 of Grey's Anatomy from the Internet without having to leave the comfort of my bed.

Family Travels

2007-05-08T12:13:00.000-07:00

Part 2: Top 10 Moments Traveling with my Family
My family was able to meet me here in Europe and together we visited, in addition to Brussels, London, Ireland, and the Alsace region of France. The following are the Top 10 moments that made me stop and think, "Wow. This is sweet."

10. Care rentals. Though it took us an hour and a half to figure out how to turn on our French hybrid, it was so nice just to be in a car again, to navigate and not get lost (with just one wrong turn), and to not have to base part of our day on the timing of public transportation.

9. Madrigal meal. On our first night in Ireland my parents and I were able to visit the Bunratty Castle and proceeded to have one of the finest meals of my life. We were given no silverwear and had to eat everything, including soup, pork ribs, chicken and vegetables, with our hands or "dagger." To top it all off, the food was accompanied by very talented madrigal singers and instruments. It was a fabulous way to be welcomed into Ireland (espcially when addressed as Lords and Ladies).

8. Moher Lodge. One of our B & B's was owned by, who had to be, the sweetest Irish couple, and basically the quintessential Irish B & B. We were greeted immediately upon arrival with tea, slept in a perfectly quaint and cozy room, served the most delicious breakfasts (Irish and otherwise), and treated with the same hospitality that one would find from a long distance relative. In fact, as one photographer said whilst he stayed at the lodge, "I took a picture of a crooked lamp shade here because it was the only imperfection in the entire B & B." Oh...and two of the other guests at the B & B were Luther grads! (We were sure to take a photo to send to the Luther Alumni magazine)

7. Strasbourg tea. I had a few spare minutes to myself after my family and I had split up for a bit to do our separate things, and I utilized them sitting at a cafe near the city's cathedral and sipping on tea. Sometimes a girl's just gotta have tea.

6. Witch's Eye. My aunt and I were able to hike up a hill in Thann, France on which perches the remnants of a castle called the Witch's Eye. I found a way to climb into the center of the eye, we had a fantastic view of the city, and we were even able to just sit and stare out at the city that was the birthplace of my ancestors, having one of those indescribable "How did I end up here?" moments.

5. Colmar. About an hour south of Strasbourg, France lies what has become one of my favorite European cities called Colmar. It has a canal that stretches across the city, and just off of it sits the area known as Little Venice, named, of course, after it's "Venetian" like buildings and canal. The town looks be completely preserved in original 18th century architecture and layout. Half of the city is made up of pedestrian roads and squares filled with fountains and cafes. I may have been able to just spend the entire vacation taking leisurely walks across this timeless, beautiful town.

4. Herbie. On the island of Inis Dirr, one of the Aran Islands off the coast of Ireland, my parents and I were greeted in the middle of our touring of the island by a little mut who adopted us as his guests and promptly began showing us around the island. We named him Herbie, and let him lead the way throughout the little island. He waited for us while we ate ice cream, and even sat with us while we relaxed on the beach. He eventually found a companion of a more similar species and lost interest in us, but for the rest of the trip we found ourselves longing for Herbie's company.

3. Soccer ball retrieval. While sitting at a cafe in Strasbourg that sat next to a canal, my aunt and I soon became completely engaged in the spectacle of watching a handful of adolescents try to retrieve a soccer ball that had been kicked into the canal. They had most of the patrons of the cafe as their audience, and spent at least 45 minutes using different strategies to reach their ball. I refused to leave until I saw the ball safely back with its owners, and happily participated in the applause that followed their successful recovery.

2. Picnic in the park. My parents and I took a day to just relax around Brussels, and spent a large part of the afternoon in one of my favorite city parks. After eating our perfect picnic of a lunch, we were able to lie down on the blanket and be perfectly content doing nothing in the company of the people that mean the most to us.

1. Spending time with my family. I can't begin to describe how comforting it was just to be back with my family, to revert back to old routines, and to get to show them what I am doing with my life. Thank you again for coming. :)

A Belated Spring Break Update

2007-05-08T11:22:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been almost a month since my Spring Break began, but I believe it is better late than never to record an experience. So here it is: My Month Long Spring Break. :)

Part 1: Greek Surprises
Throughout our time spent in Greece, I was faced with different aspects of the country I had not expected. Some bad, mostly good, all something that made me stop and think, "Wow. That surprises me."

Bad- The American tourists. They were everywhere. I have no doubt that I saw more American tourists than Greeks. This was confirmed when we were stuck going up a mountain on the island of Aegina on our moped and the one person that stopped to help us was from California.
-Stray animals. I suppose this could be good or bad. But there were literally cats and dogs everywhere throughout the city of Athens. Though amusing at times, we were left more than once wondering if the animal was just sleeping or, in fact, dead, a ponderance I would rather not have to face on a vactation.
-Scaffolding. It was almost impossible to really imagine the temples as they were thousands of years ago when they were all under construction and surrounded by cranes.
-TPless toilets. Almost all of the toilets, including the ones in our hotels, disallowed the flushing of toilet paper. Yuck.

GOOD! -Proximity. Our hotel was very centrally located, and we were never out of walking distance from many of the major temples, including the Acropolis, and the Plaka Market.
-Athens Easter Gift. All of the temples we visited on Easter weekend were free!
-Scenic routes. Michelle and I were able to walk up to the Acropolis via the most quaint and perfectly Greek neighborhood, proving again that sometimes the best routes are off the beaten path.
-Rita's shop. On our first day in Athens, we came across a hole-in-the-wall of a shop owned by a woman named Rita, who was selling her artwork to eager tourists. We adopted her as our Greek grandma and was grateful for all of her advice on what to see in and near Athens.
-Chance encounters. At the steps leading up to the Parthenon on the Acropolis I ran into one of my students and his family. The timing was cosmic.
-Greek music, Greek dancing. Rita (from above) advised us on a restaurant for Easter dinner, and after getting lost on the way there, we stopped to ask a man for directions. He then informed us of another restaurant that boasted "Greek music Greek dancing" and let us in even without reservations. Though it turned out to be a huge tourist trap (indeed, it was full of American high school students) it was great to be entertained.
-Moped ease. The idea of riding a moped around a Greek island was very appealing to both Michelle and me, though the potential difficulty of renting, and driving, as it turns out, didn't dawn on us until we were attempting the rental. After fabricating a little thing of ever riding a moped before (neither of us hadn't) we eagerly hopped on our moped and, with mild embarassment, puttered ourselves down the street. After a few jolting starts and gradual accelerations, we both grew into the comfort of riding on a moped and enjoyed what turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip.

All in all, I was thrilled to have the chance to visit a such a renowned and historic city, the flawless weather, and being able to visit an island on which it was possible to circumnavigate by moped. I could have done with less tourists, and my only regret was having just 5 days to spend there. However, with regret comes realization, which, for this particular circumstance, means that I may just have to go back. At least next time I will have an honest answer to the question, "So, have you ridden a moped before?"

Belated

2007-05-01T13:15:00.000-07:00

Wow. It has taken way to long to replace my previous disturbing blog with something more uplifting. As of tomorrow, it will have been 1 month since my last blog. Whoa! Suffice it to say that April has been the busiest/most exciting month of my life, due in part to the visits from my dear friends and family, partly due to getting to visit new cities in Greece, Ireland, France, and Germany (which I will describe more in detail in my next blog), and partly because....

I got a job in Brussels for next year!!!!!!!

It's official: I have been hired to teach sixth grade at ISB. It's an interesting feeling, having something constantly weighing on your mind, and then for it to be, in the matter of minutes, completely relieved. I am excited to work with older children, to have my own classroom, and to get to move back to a city that I love. There is going to be a fantastic new-hire staff for next year as well, considering I know 6 other newly hired teachers, I am looking at a new apartment, and I don't have to pay hundreds of euros to ship all of my newly acquired belongings across an ocean. Life is good.

Disturbing

2007-04-02T13:21:00.001-07:00

How Belgian:
I saw a man and his dog peeing on the same tree tonight. Ew.

Bruised but not broken

2007-03-29T12:22:00.000-07:00

Only here, in this international setting, could I ever hope to hear, "Hey, what are you doing this weekend?" "Not much." "Want to go to Switzerland?" After a spontaneous decision, I, along with 6 of my other friends living in Brussels, drove to the town of Interlaken, Switzerland last weekend to have one last winter hoorah before Spring sets in across Europe. After driving through 5 countries for almost 8 hours, we arrived late Friday evening, and spent the rest of the weekend making the most of our very short visit.

Oh, how I wish I had written this post when the memories of this last weekend were still fresh in my mind. Like running around with my tongue sticking out catching as much Swiss snow as I could. Or the feel of the wind in my face causing the tears to roll as I skiied down the Alpine Mountain of Mannlichen. Or the realization halfway down the mountain that I had no idea what I was doing, no control of what I was doing, and not enough layers on to make my multiple falls completely painless. Or, right after waking up in the morning, opening up my hotel curtains with such great flourish to see the Alps as the background to Interlaken, the city I had always pictured in my head when imagining Switzerland. I had my first fondue experience with actual Swiss cheese, skiied down an actual MOUNTAIN (a big deal for me whose only skiiing experience has been down a few puny midwestern hills), and spent the whole day Sunday walking around the town, soaking in the sun and sights of the Alps that surrounded us. One weekend was definitely not long enough to experience a city in Switzerland, but it was just enough to make me want to go back as soon as possible (though maybe after a few more practice runs on those midwestern hills I should be reacquainted with).

For the next 5 weekends I will be in 5 different European countries-Belgium (of course), Greece, Ireland, France, and Germany. Switzerland last weekend makes 6. This, by the way, I have heard referred to as the American way to travel. I don't think that's a compliment.

I have two wonderful friends, Michelle and Lyn, coming to visit me this weekend and the Spring Break holidays coming up the week after, where I will get to travel with my family. As I wrote on my facebook profile, the month of April is sure to be the highlight of the European Extravaganza that is this year!

Lil' update

2007-03-17T02:40:00.000-07:00

So it appears that this blog is starting to become monthly, rather than weekly. :)
After so much excitement over my February break, things have slowed back down to normal. March has been relatively uneventful for me so far. This will hopefully be changing soon as I start to hear back from jobs and finally make some big decisions (or have big decisions be made for me) about next year. Right now I am hoping to stay somewhere in Europe for at least a couple more years, either in Brussels or elsewhere. In the meantime I will be celebrating St. Patrick's Day in the Irish section of Brussels this evening, celebrating the International Festival at the school next weekend, and welcoming my first guests of 2007, Mrs. Michelle Grace Bonifazi and Miss Lyn Curry, the following weekend. This year is moving dangerously fast (as I knew it would) and I will do my best to soak in all that I can before the year's end.
Hopefully I'll have something more exciting to share for next time. :)

Checking off items from my life-long to do list

2007-02-27T10:57:00.000-08:00

I feel when I write blogs after going on holiday, all of the blogs begin with "How will I ever describe this vacation to do it justice?" and end with something like "How will any of my other vacations compare to something this amazing?" And though I genuinely felt that thrilled with my holidays, this last week serves as the most adventurous, most thrill-seeking, most spontaneous week of my life. My body is sore, I feel like I'll never catch up on sleep, and my skin is starting to peel from my sunburns, but I would take those on for the rest of my life if it meant reliving my last week. We arrived in Gran Canaria, one of the Canary Islands, last Sunday. Gran Canaria is off the coast of Northwestern Africa, and small enough that it would probably only take about two hours to circumnavigate (it only took us 45 minutes to drive from the very south of the island where we were staying to the very north to visit the capital, Las Palmas). Though we had discussed some options for excursions before we left for the island, my only expecations of our trip were sun, walking, and free food and drinks (from our all-inclusive package). On our very first day we were given information of other excursions available on the island and I was hit with a very powerful indecisiveness and feeling of being overwhelmed from all of our choices. First of all, Carnival was being celebrated across the island the week we were there (which lasts throughout February and into March...basically like a month-long Mardi Gras to celebrate the end of winter and beginning of spring), so one of the days had to include partaking in the festivities. We were also offered scuba diving, a western-themed night, a bar crawl, paddle boating, jet skiing, sky diving, bull-riding, off-roading in the mountains, dune-climbing and dolphin-watching. All of these were in addition to the obvious beach bumming and promenade walking. How were we ever going to squeeze these all in? Well...somehow...we did. Everything. I can say I've swum with fish 35 feet below sea level for 40 minutes. I can say I've sampled prickly pear in the bottom of one of Gran Canaria's extraordinary ravines. I can say I've celebrated Carnival with parades, baby powder (thrown by those participating in the parade...we were absolutely covered in white), costumes, drag queens, and fabulous music. I can say I've walked through the dunes of Maspolomas. I can say I've ridden a mechanical bull. I can say I've been line-dancing with a bunch of Europeans on a Spanish island (and was the only American participating!) I can say that I've paddle-boated and jet-skiied in the Atlantic Ocean. I can say I've watched a Canarian sunset AND sunrise (pick your jaw back up, friends). And, with the most enthusiasm, I will be able to say I've jumped out of a plane. In the air. Falling for around 30 seconds before parachuting down to safety. But with all of these extraordinary adventures, with all these things I can check off my lifelong to do list, what brought me most joy on my trip was that which is completely ordinary and simple. Walking, listening to my ipod, and stopping at a cafe for a drink, book in hand. I'm not really sure what to make of it. How could something so simple, something I could do anywhere, bring me the most happiness during the sort of trip I could never replicate? I have the phrase "The best things in life are free" going through my head. Perhaps not necessarily free. But perhaps the best things in life are those things that are simple, reliable, attainable, and enjoyable no matter where it is done. Who would have thought that I would have to jump from a plane to figure that out?

Going international

2007-02-09T07:17:00.000-08:00

I have written several posts about the benefits of working in a school that represents a multitude of nationalities. What I may have neglected to describe is how international the city of Brussels itself is. As the center of the European Union and the city in which NATO is located, Brussels, indeed, draws in an international crowd. I was reminded again this week of how that affects my experience of living abroad, and so I give you...
3 More Reasons it's So Cool to Live in an International City:

1. The Gangs of New York Party
-Last weekend my roommates and I were invited to a party held at the Autoworld Museum in Brussels, a party reserved primarily for the Italians and Irish of Brussels to go drink themselves silly together. We managed to finagle our way in using our best Irish accents and had ourselves a great time. It was a fun way to meet people outside our little social circle of interns and fellow teachers and talk about something besides students.

2. Burns' Night
-There is a holiday in Scotland created to honor the Scottish poet Robbie Burns. One of my close colleagues is a Scotsman and invited a few teachers over on Saturday to take part in haggis, oats, and hilarity. Indeed, I had the feast of a lifetime, and was still full two hours after I had finished eating. I was in disbelief, actually, at how much I could managed to squeeze into one stomach. Maybe it stretches extra wide for extra delicious food. The picture (I will try to include later) is of the program my colleague created for the event.

3. Listening to children count to 10 in their native languages
-Okay, so it's going to be another school story again. Today was the 100th day of school (I honestly can't believe it's here already) and during the whole school assembly, the principal asked if there were any volunteers who could stand up and count to ten in their native language. I got to hear the following languages this morning:
-English
-French
-Spanish
-German
-Arabic
-Hebrew
-Polish
-Icelandic
-Portuguese
-Chinese
-Japanese
-Afrikaan
-Maori (Native New Zealand)
-Dutch
-Russian
-Italian
-Danish
-Turkish
-Swedish
-Urdu (a language in Pakistan)

And this was just for grades K-2! How amazing it was! And even more amazing is those aren't all the languages that represent our school. This international business is pretty sweet.

Word of the week: Planning

2007-01-29T13:17:00.000-08:00

Planning for my next lesson.
Planning for my next job.
Planning for my next trip.

I'm constantly thinking about the future. It's job search season, and I spent all day Saturday researching international teaching jobs online. The rest of my weekend I spent researching traveling to Ireland with my family in April and buying my tickets to GREECE (!!!!!!!!!!) for the week before my parents arrive. I'm excited for all of these things, and even more so now that more and more tickets are being purchased. But I have to constantly remind myself to bring myself back to the present, to think about what I'm doing now, because it's when I'm thinking too much of the future that the present goes by all too quickly, and I am perfectly content making this Belgian experience last as long as possible. I'm comfortable, I'm getting more confident, and all too soon I will be saying "Au revoir" to one of the best experienes of my life. So I'll continue to plan ahead with that next lesson (I'm teaching an English class to English as a second language students every day now), plan the day trips for when I'm in Ireland and Greece, and plan for which country I'll end up living in next. But every once in a while, when I remember, I'll stop, have some coffee and maybe a bite of chocolate, and let myself realize how lucky I am to be where I am right now.

Oh, Des Moines...

2007-01-22T13:20:00.000-08:00

And you're probably thinking, "What? Des Moines? What's that got to do with EUROPE?!" Well, believe it or not, the name "Des Moines" is becoming more and more popular all over this great continent thanks to the author Bill Bryson, writer of travel memoirs and former resident of the great Iowan capital. There have been three different instances since I've been here in which I said where I was from and the European I was speaking to said "Oh, isn't that where Bill Bryson is from?" He's a great writer. And he's an Iowan! It really doesn't get much better. Oh, except he's also lived in Europe and has pretty much led my dream life of traveling around the world and getting to write about it. *Sigh.
Anyway, I just finished reading one of his latest memoirs called The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid which describes his experiences of growing up in Des Moines in the 1950's. It was hilarious, of course, and especially meaningful since I recognized some of the locations he refers to (Ashworth Pool, Grand Avenue, Iowa State Fair, Governor's Mansion, Roosevelt High School). And though most of the book either had me laughing or reminiscing, the end of the book left an enormous ache in my heart. The last chapter listed all of the locations referred to in his book and what has become of them since he left Des Moines. And the overwhelming outcome for almost every single location: renovation. or complete destruction. I was left feeling bitter that I would never be able to see the diners or parks or the theaters or some of the stores in which Bryson spent much of his childhood. He referred to the Younkers located downtown that only just closed the summer of 2005, which I remember happening, but only felt the impact of it just by reading Bryson's account of his time spent there. I know renovation has to happen to public places, but why does that often mean replacing character and originality with dull architecture or corporately owned identical chains? We are comforted by being able to go to another state and know we will find the same restaurants and stores. And I'm not saying that I didn't get excited when I found out that there was a Subway in Brussels, but what I am saying is that we become so reliant on these chains that the locally owned mom-and-pop shop that sold our grandparents candy for a penny a piece will go out of business and slowly all cities start to look identical as far as goods that are offered. And maybe this doesn't bother some people. But I want to be able to go to a city or town and have someone say to me "Oh, for the best apple pie in town you best be going to Mabel's around the corner" or "Need to get rid of those split ends? Lola owns her own beauty parlor and can get rid of those in a jiffy!" Not "Oh, try the Applebee's across the road" or "Yeah, there's a Cost Cutters right next to the Kum and Go." Maybe that's why I'm so taken with Brussels. The whole chain mentality still hasn't caught on yet (or at least to the extent that it has in America). I love that there isn't a Starbuck's here. I love that I could never dream of sampling all of the cafes or restaurants or pubs even just in my commune because there are so many and none of them are the same.
And maybe someday far off in the future once every store and every restaurant and every gas station is owned by Walmart or Donald Trump or some other corporate tycoon, someone will perk up and say, "I wonder what would happen if I opened up my own (fill in the blank)." And it will be a novel idea, that little (fill in the blank) down the street that no one has heard of yet because there isn't another one with the same name. As Bryson describes it:

Imagine those palatial downtown movie theaters with their vast screens and Egyptian decor...Imagine having all of public life - offices, stores, restaurants, entertainments - conveniently clustered in the heart of the city and experiencing fresh air and daylight each time you moved from one to another...Imagine having a city full of things that no other city had. What a wonderful world that would be. What a wonderful world it was [the 1950's]. We won't see its ilke again, I'm afraid.

And I would say, "Oh, but you were wrong, Bill. I knew somebody would catch on."

February won't come soon enough!!!

2007-01-18T10:58:00.000-08:00

So the girls and I just booked our package deal to go to the Canary Islands in February for our midterm break. And here's what I feel like doing:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!
I imagine that I'll be doing that probably every day until we leave. We found an all-inclusive package so that means we've already paid for the flight, 7 nights in a RESORT, and all we can eat food and drinks (soft, hot, and alcoholic as they describe it). We'll be staying near the Maspalamos beach of the Gran Canaria Island (which is off the coast of Africa). I don't actually know a lot about the island yet, but I am thrilled to do some research. I wanted to go somewhere that has a big celebration for Carnival (which coincides with Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday) and my roommate wanted to go somewhere tropical, and this island apparently fulfills both wishes. Hooray!!

It's amazing what a photo can do

2007-01-15T13:49:00.000-08:00

In my last blog about Barcelona, I left out a tiny bit of what happened on my trip. Unfortunately, I had my purse stolen on my last night there, which included, most tragically, my camera. I didn't include that bit in my last blog, as I didn't want my trip to Barcelona to sound tainted. But for those of you who know me well, you know how much I love (to the point of maybe obsession) taking photos. So the loss of my camera was especially devastating. However, by the act of a brilliant tool called Facebook, I was able to see pictures of me in Barcelona, taken by some wonderful people I met at my hostel. One of the guys I met has as his profile picture (on Facebook) a picture of a group of us on our last night. Just seeing that one picture brought almost this wave of relief, like I had proof that I was, in fact, in Barcelona. It was so incredibly heartwarming to be reminded of that trip. One girl was so generous that she sent me a CD of her pictures from the trip that I now get to keep for myself.

If I learned anything from my purse theft (besides to not sit on a bench in Barcelona without my purse not attached to my body) it's that I need to be less dependent on pictures. As one of my hostel friends pointed out, I was there. Let the experience itself sink in, and not be so reliable on the "proof." I will always remember how the sun felt on my face as I layed down in Park de la Ciudadella and how my breath was taken away at the site of the palm tree-lined pathway that led toward the Arc de Triumf and the drop in temperature as I made my way to the top of Mount Tibidabo because of its high elevation and the sound of the Flamenco dancers' shoes on the wooden dance floor. Yes, there are some things that I've lost that I can't replace, but what I have to remember is that those especially fantastic memories can't be taken from me. And those are all I need.

Christmas holiday update

2007-01-07T08:34:00.000-08:00

After a month away from blogging, you can imagine how much catching up I must do! I just got back from my Christmas vacation which was filled with reunions and laughter (from getting to go home for a week), tube-riding and massive crowds (from visiting London for New Year's), and sun, sangria, and tapas (all three of which I had every day during my visit to Barcelona). I will do my best to sum up the adventures from my fabulous winter holiday.

My week at home was spent relaxing with my family, eating lots of yummy holiday feasts, and getting to see many of my wonderful friends who came to visit while I was back in the states. After four months away, I thought for sure I would forget how to go places or drive a car or maybe not recognize my 14 year old cousin who had his braces removed while I was away. But honestly, it was like I hadn't been gone at all. It was quite surreal, actually. It was like I was coming home from college after just a few weeks away. Completely natural and mostly very relaxing. At the end of the week I was excited for my travels to come, but a little disappointed I didn't give myself more time to just be at home. Apparently one week was just not enough!

After giving myself a day to recover in Brussels once I arrived back from the states, I departed for London the following morning without, for maybe the first time ever, any travelling drama. Hooray! I spent my time in London hanging out with a few friends from high school (also visiting London) , seeing some sights I hadn't seen yet, visiting the Tate Modern Art Museum (which was FABULOUS...my favorite display was called Video Quartet. The display was set up with four video screens each playing scenes from movies in which an actor was playing an instrument, like piano, trumpet or percussion, etc...but there were literally hundreds of clips, and each screen was playing different scenes simultaneously. It was so cool!), seeing the musical Avenue Q (which was hilarious), and standing in a mass of thousands of people in Trafalger Square for the New Year's celebration. By far it was my favorite trip to London.

I left London early Wednesday morning and arrived in Barcelona around mid-afternoon. And as I sit here trying to formulate a summary of this trip, I am left stuck, because nothing I could write could do justice to my time spent in Barcelona. Never have I been in a city that left gave so many opportunities of things to experience for so many different types of people. For those who paint or just appreciate painters, one could visit the museums of Salvador Dali or Pablo Picasso. A linguist may come to study Catalan, a language that combines Spanish, Italian, and French and is the official language of Barcelona. An architect may come just to visit many of Antonio Gaudi's unique buildings or the Park Guell which was also designed by him (and one of my favorite spots in Barcelona) or take a walk through Barcelona's narrow, Gothically structured, streets. A dancer could watch a Flamenco dancing show and be blown away by the dancers' passion and the wonderful music that accompanies such music, normally Spanish guitar. Hikers and walkers can enjoy Barcelona's many parks or take a hike up to the top of Mount Tibidabo, the highest point in Barcelona. A beach bum can lay out in the sand and dip their feet in the Mediterranean Sea. A food lover can sample the many different varieties of tapas, normally vegetables or seafood, accompanied by a pitcher of Sangria (chilled red wine with filled with fruit). A shopper can visit upscale stores like Dior or Versace but then cross the street to visit the markets of Las Ramblas. The amazing thing is, I got to do all of those in just the short time I was here. Whether it was the palm trees, the gorgeous weather, the sights, the food, the ease of being able to walk almost everywhere, I'm not sure. But one or all of them made Barcelona my favorite city I've visited since I've arrived in Europe. I can't wait to go back.

Santa Lucia

2006-12-13T01:24:00.000-08:00

I've never felt more lucky to be where I am. Part of working at an international school is celebrating holidays from all over the world. Last week we celebrated Saint Nicolaas which is traditionally a Dutch and Belgian holiday to honor the man after whom the holiday is named. We all got to visit St. Nicolaas himself, sang a French song to him, and ate loads of chocolate, mandarin oranges, and pepernoten, which are kind of like gingerbread balls.

Today we celebrated Santa Lucia, which is normally celebrated in Sweden. We gathered into the lobby to listen to the Swedish children from all grades sing traditional Swedish Christmas music. During their performance, I suddenly got this immense feeling of gratitude. I found myself with a lump in my throat, thinking about how lucky I was to be seeing such a performance, and wondering how on Earth I got here. Some days I struggle to have the energy to work with dozens of 6 year olds, and other days there is no where else I would rather be. Will I ever find this much cultural diversity ever again? I worry about how I will handle going back to the states where schools are becoming homogenized and any celebrations are completely generic, without regard for religion or culture. Instead of worrying about that, I think perhaps it would be best to look around at my Swedish students who are still glowing in their Santa Lucia glory, my Israeli students who are getting excited for Hannukah which starts Friday, finish eating my pepernoten from my Dutch and Belgian students, and not be afraid to wish many of my other students a Merry Christmas (while I am still in a school where we are allowed to give such wishes).

Ein bratwurst, bitte

2006-12-11T14:02:00.000-08:00

Hmmm...I suppose I owe an explanation for my lapse in entry writing (for all 5 of you that read this). And, well, I have none. I constantly have these "ah-ha!" ideas to include in my blog, but when it comes time to type them, I suffer from this incurable disorder called "laziness." There is no known cure and symptoms are especially severe during winter months.

But here we are! It is almost the middle of December, and while my countdown continues of days until I go home (10!) all of the days in between are filling up quite quickly. This last weekend I got to visit two Christmas markets, one in Brussels and another in Aachen, Germany. The German market, as expected, was gloriously cute and bustling and filled with cute stands and bratwursts and a tasty mulled wine they call Glühwein (pronounced gloo-vine). I traveled with a group of about 30 other teachers from ISB and I got to spend the day shopping, smelling delicious German cuisine, and utilizing my German-speaking skills which have been FLOURISHING since my fall break (I can say "danke schön" without hardly any accent now...hooray!). If you want to see more about the festival, check out this informational little tourist website:

http://www.aachen.de/EN/ts/90_festivals_events/90_30/index.html

At school, the next eight school days before break will be spent preparing for student-led conferences, visiting the Grand Place with a group of 80 first grade students for a class field trip, and planning and participating in a first grade wide Christmas party. I was pleasently surprised they celebrate Christmas in such a multi-cultural setting! This celebration is being banned in schools all over the states and most other countries, so I am going to go all out knowing that this will probably be the last time I get to celebrate Christmas with my students!

The choir I am in has two performances this weekend for our Christmas concert, and I can hardly contain myself I am so excited! It certainly won't be Christmas at Luther (what could possibly compare?!) but it will be so great to sing holiday music again! My netball team has also qualified for finals, so I will be bringing out the game face for that on Monday. Oh! And at some point during that time I have to finish my Christmas shopping. These next 10 days are going to fly by!

One more quick update (since I have no idea when I will be inspired to write my next blog). After one week at home, I will be coming back to Europe for my second week of holiday break. I will be spending New Year's in London (WHOA!) with some high school friends, and then heading over for Barcelona for a few days before I return back to Brussels. I am particularly excited about visiting Spain, and have found this ingenious tool called Google Earth which lets me see a satellite image of the city so I can explore the city from a safe distance before I get there. It's quite amazing, really. I've even found my hostel!

Until next time...

Bonsoire, Gut Nacht, Buenas Noches, and Goodnight

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...

2006-11-30T14:40:00.000-08:00

The Christmas lights have been put up around the streets in our town.

We're singing Christmas carols in choir.

And I'm writing this while listening to "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey.

Now I just need some snow and to watch Love Actually, perhaps while drinking hot chocolate and being kept warm by a fire. I wonder if they sell mistletoe in Belgium?

2006-11-30T03:30:00.000-08:00

Walmart's sales have fallen this month for the first time in a decade. Hooray!

(Sorry, Mom)

Familiarity

2006-11-26T13:17:00.000-08:00

I've stumbled across something quite dangerous.

I have found not one, but TWO, English bookstores in downtown Brussels. I've already spent pretty much a paycheck's worth of money at these shops and it's just the first weekend I've been introduced to them. Indeed...any bookstore in which I can find books written in English is quite dangerous. It doesn't help that I have a new favorite author, Bill Bryson, for whom I can seek out specifically when searching for new books.
This weekend, in fact, has been a weekend of language familiarity. Besides the bookshops, I have also attended a church service in English and saw the movie "Babel." It was almost, almost, like I was back in the states. I enjoyed the church service, primarily for my reacquaintance with traditional church music. We sang one of the hymns to the tune of "My God How Wonderful Thou Art," the song with which I auditioned for choir each year at Luther and I was brought back to the music hall at Luther, standing at the piano while Weston Noble accompanied me. I also enjoyed flipping through the music booklet and singing to myself all of the tunes that were at one point so familiar to me. I had forgotten how much I miss hearing those. I really don't attend church services often enough here.
The movie, as far as I could tell, was quite good, though I would have appreciated it more had I understood more of it. You see, the characters in the movie communicated with 5 different languages (English, Arabic, Spanish, Japanese, and sign language) and for each language there were only subtitles in French and Dutch. This left me, an English speaker, pretty lost for about 70 percent of the movie. There were some scenes that were easy to decipher, but it was a bit frustrating when the whole audience would start laughing and my friends and I were left looking at each other helplessly. I would feel a boost of confidence when I could translate some of the words in the subtitle, like "cake" and "the American" but found that my overall comprehension left much to be desired. I suppose I need to start being more careful about which movies I see in a French-speaking city.

Giving Thanks

2006-11-23T08:09:00.000-08:00

Yep...I think I'm going to be super cheesy and make my Thanksgiving list. I'm just in that sort of mood.
I am thankful for...

-Belgian chocolate
-Orville Redenbacher's Tenderwhite popcorn
-going to a job where I get to laugh and smile every day
-being able to see my family in one month
-an apartment that I know will be warm when I come from the coldness outside
-slippers
-finding a Christmas radio station online (that I started listening to 3 days ago)
-getting an opportunity to travel across Europe
-being introduced to Bill Bryson, who I think will soon become my favorite author
-finding a choir in Brussels (our Christmas concert is in 3 weeks!)
-Caitlin's mom sending her Gray's Anatomy for us all to watch
-sweatpants
-Google, Facebook, MySpace, MyFamily, and any other search engine that makes life easier
-friends who send me things that make me laugh and make me miss them even more
-living in a country that serves great coffee

There's lots more I'm sure. But it's late (we didn't start eating our 22 pound turkey until 11 pm this evening) and my bed (another thing I am thankful for) awaits.

Oh, and I went to Amsterdam last weekend. To sum up: lots of canals, lots of bikes, lots of red, and lots of coffeeshops. Next time I'll go when it's warmer. :)

Bon nuit.

So what exactly...do you do?

2006-11-17T14:37:00.000-08:00

Since I've begun my internship at the International School of Brussels, I have been asked several times what, exactly, I do. Being an "intern" doesn't really lend itself to a self-description sort of job.

So...
Are you a teacher? Well, no.
Are you an assistant? Um, not exactly.
So what exactly...do you do there?

Well, I...
-work with four different first grade teachers
-am first in line if any of those teachers needs a sub
-lead morning meetings
-play guitar
-transport kids around the school/campus
-lead reading groups
-bask in the greatness of my weekly duties (morning and recess)
-resolve conflicts (*see above)
-differentiate between attention seeking/genuine bone breaking injuries (already one broken arm this year)
-manage six year olds who have behavioral disorders and don't speak English
-cut, paste, copy, print...and any other tedious labor with which the teachers need assistance
-organize and create bulletin boards
-take photos
-clean
-lead a book club
-manage the student/class guinea pig interactions
-babysit
-help lead for a sports program that meets once a month
-communicate between parent and teacher/parent and child/child and teacher
-dictate students' writing when they still aren't able to hold a pencil properly
-assist during computer times
-familiarize students with terms and phrases like "community" and "habitat" and "wash your hands after going to the bathroom"

So you can see that it is difficult to pinpoint exactly what I do, or at least enough to give myself a proper title. Teacher/counselor/transporter/laborer/photographer/manager/leader/assistant/communicator estraordinaire has a nice ring to it. TCTLPMLACE for short, of course.

And all of this happens just during the day. Nevermind the netball league I'm playing in, the French classes I'm taking, the two girls that I tutor, the book club I've joined, and the choir rehearsals I attend in the evening. And the weekends? I save those for traveling around the world. Or just Europe. Whichever sounds most appealing to me at the time. I'll be checking out Amsterdam this weekend. I'll fill you in on how adventurous that turns out to be in my next blog.

Until then,
Bonsoir.

Fall Break

2006-11-07T13:57:00.000-08:00

A cafe-hopping, bridge-crossing, castle-searching, mountain-climbing, snow-falling, Mozart-rockin' good time...

For my fall break last week, I was fortunate enough to be able to visit the cities/regions of Salzburg, Bavaria, Prague, Vienna, and Graz. The following are the statistics of my trip:

Days traveled: 10

Countries visited: 3

Cities visited: 5

Items lost, stolen, forgotten, or otherwise left behind: 0!!! (That I know of...)

Trains missed: 2

Cafe stops: 14. Yeah...I know.

Postcards purchased: 27. Eek. Surprised myself with that statistic.

Weinerschintzels eaten: 3

Number of times the purchase of a ticket came down to the last cent: 2 (Once on my bus ride to the airport...a little too close for comfort...and the second time after I had walked (yes walked)up to the fortress in Salzburg to find out they only accepted cash for the entrance fee)

Number of times kicked out of a bar for having a dog: 1

Apple strudels savored: 2

Items purchased to protect self from cold: 3 (2 hats and gloves)

Languages attempted to be spoken: 3 (French, German, Czech)

Number of times followed by a homeless man from Vienna to Salzburg: 1 (which was enough...not quite sure how he managed to do that)

I had an amazing time. I had wonderful company, sampled lots of yummy, traditional cuisine, drank lots of coffee, did lots of walking, and saw some of the most beautiful sights Europe has to offer. I will do my best to summarize each of my destinations in sequential order so that this blog doesn't become too unbearably long.

1. Salzburg: mountains, "narrow crooked little streets in contrast to the great spacious squares", shops, cafes, Sound of Music, Mozart, mint-green river water, the Yoho Hostel, Shamrock Pub, weinerschnitzel, beautiful trails, fall leaves, Mirabell Gardens, young people in their traditional Austrian costume called "tracht", Hohensazburg Fortress, baroque churches, markets, Steigl beer, fountains, and magnificent cathedrals.

2. Bavaria (in Germany...I didn't realize I was going to be in Germany until our bus driver told us that we were entering the country, and that we could hold our passports up to the window as we drove through): Konigssee (King's Lake), apple strudel, hills in the shape of a witch lying down, gorgeous fall leaves and Hitler's headquarters, the Eagle's Nest.

3. Prague: Charles Bridge, fun tour guides/hosts named Jan (pronounced Yawn), walking, Astronomical Clock, art nouveau, buildings from different eras all built around each other, Prague Castle, environmental photo displays, Jewish Quarter, Old Town Bridge Tower, walking, Old Town Square, pig's knuckle, St. Nicholas Cathedral, orange rooftops, dumplings, the Dancing House, crystal, Cathedral of Our Lady before Tyn, cheap beer, cute houses, and more walking.

4. Vienna: cafes, snow/cold cold cold, St. Stephen's Cathedral, old ferris wheels, walking past sites but not into them like the State Opera, City Hall, and various theaters/churches/museums (unless seeking shelter from the cold), cafes, weinerschnitzel, Sky Bar, composers immortalized, The Hofburg, beautiful gardens, The Graben, and more cafes.

5. Graz. Ah, Graz. The following is my journal entry written soon after our visit there:
I will never forget this day. It seems like a dream beginning to fade from memory. It started simple enough with breakfast, missing a train, and eventually catching a train over to Graz (Austria). We fell in love with the city right away with its town square, beautiful architecture, and apple strudel. We were just beginning to feel content when we stumbled upon Schlossbergplatz (a huge hill with a trail you could hike to the top). We excitedly began to climb to the top of this steep, tall hill, taking in the breathtaking view of Graz at sunset for most of the climb. It wasn't until we reached the top that we realized the remains of a castle were located there. Then it began to snow. And it was beautiful. And then we heard a group of people singing "Hallelujah" (Rufus Wainwright). And then we followed the singing to the top of a deep well located near the castle. And then we stood around the well with a group of about 8 twentysomething German-speakers. And then we sang. Or rather they sang and we listened. And then we sang "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas." And then they sang a German canon while we listened. And I had to pinch myself. And then they sang the Dona Nobis Pacem canon. And I could sing with them because I sang it in high school. And it was beautiful. And we were singing into a well and the snow was falling and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever done. And then we walked to a cafe and had a discussion about American politics (go figure) but it was productive and I was sipping espresso and talking politics with a bunch of Europeans in an Austrian bar. And we came outside to find enormous snowflakes falling from the sky. I can't believe how amazing that was and Jen and I are feeling high like we have fallen in love (with Graz) and the memory is already starting to fade. Did it actually happen? Did we miss our train so we could sing and have a political debate with a random group of European actors? It's like I lived my European fantasy and now I can hardly think clearly.

So, it was amazing. I think I'm going to need the next 7 weeks until Christmas break just to recover from this last one.

Once an American...

2006-10-23T13:10:00.000-07:00

Since I've been here, I've found that some of my little mannerisms, sayings, and overall habits have changed. I wear scarves almost every day as an accessory, am an expert on taking public transport, dress up to go anywhere (back at Luther, this time of year was when I would wear a sweatshirt and jeans 5 days of the week), and say things like "I quite like that last bit" or "Hannah, that's brilliant!" or "You've made me quite cross" (the last one least often than the rest). I haven't driven a car, watched TV, been to a movie theater, or eaten a cheeseburger in the last 2 and a half months. I am used to paying between 2-3 euro for a cup of nonrefillable coffee/water/pop, constantly watching where I'm walking for fear of what I might step into (have I mentioned that dog owners don't pick up after their dogs?), and not being able to eavesdrop on conversations or understand what most things are on a menu. And while on some level, I am grateful for all of these things, because they mean I'm in Europe and am starting to feel more like a "European," after this weekend, I realize now more than ever that deep down I will always be an American. One of my friends from back home who is living in the UK right now came to visit, and we found ourselves reminiscing about what we miss about home and some of the first things we would do when we come back. My list of what I miss about the States includes the following:
-Singing in the car
-Knowing exactly where I can go to buy items like a tablecloth, hammer, or camera battery and needing only a 5-10 minute drive to get there
-Cozying up in front of the TV for an episode of one of my favorite shows
-Renting a movie for longer than one night
-Wendy's dollar menu
-Skim milk
-Not feeling guilty for speaking English
-Coffee-to-go
-Service with a smile (it's taken me a while to grasp that the customer is NOT always right in Brussels)
-Common courtesy. The phrase "No, after you" (even in French) will never be heard here.
-Not feeling weary about telling people where I come from (the reactions have not always been positive...a little different from last year)
-Huge, greasy breakfasts

Yet even with all of these, I would never change my mind about my decision to come here. This experience has been one of the greatest things I've ever had, and it's still only the beginning. I love Europe and adopting some European habits, but I will always be an American, and love to be American, even when I do find things with which I don't always agree. It's dependable, and it's my home.

PS: And what I miss the most, by far, is my wonderful family. Thanks for being such avid readers. I love you.

Never knew I could feel like this...

2006-10-16T13:47:00.000-07:00

...about a city.

I don't know why I still find myself surprised that one city can be so amazing. Although it was sad to see Megan off, it was good to just be contained in the city this weekend and relax. The highlight of my weekend was Sunday. We had a beautiful, sunny day and I spent much of it outside, browsing our town's market and walking through my favorite park. I went with another intern, brought a blanket, and just sat down in the grass to soak in the sun and sites. I ended the day by going out to eat with some other Luther alum who work at the school and one of our professors, Jim Langholz, who is visiting Brussels this week. We went to what is, apparently, a famous seafood restaurant where I had my first mussels experience. Results: loved it! Could be because they were smothered in cheese and herbs, but I loved them nonetheless. Now I can officially say I've had "Mussels in Brussels," because if it rhymes than it must be great, right?

Turning 23...London style

2006-10-11T13:06:00.000-07:00

23...it just sounds so much older than 22. The first time I had to actually say my new age was Sunday on the tube in London when we met another American who asked what we had done the night before. I told him I celebrated my birthday. And when he asked how old I turned, I took an extended pause as I had to actually think about my response, "23."

London turned out to be relaxing and beautiful. We spent the day Saturday walking through Portabello Market and along the River Thames and then spent the evening going out to eat, watching the musical Wicked, and going out to a few of London's pubs. The highlight of my entire weekend was the musical performance of Wicked. The musical would have been wonderful on its own, but we were lucky enough to be in the presence of Idina Menzel who played the original "Wicked Witch" when Wicked came to broadway. It is her voice you hear on the soundtrack and her voice which contributed to Wicked's undeniable success. I found myself crying, laughing, putting my hands up to my face, and just altogether in disbelief that I was so fortunate to see her perform.

Sunday was spent doing more walking, watching a 10k race between North and South London in Hyde Park, and shopping near and in Harrod's, the shopping landmark of London (made up of clothing and accessories by the world's most renowned designers). I made one purchase in Harrod's (granted it was lipstick) but felt just a glimpse of glamour walking through the streets carrying my Harrod's bag. Ooh la la!

Altogether another great European getaway. I'm think I'll be taking it easy on the traveling for the next couple weeks, as fall break is just two and a half short weeks away when I will be traveling around Eastern Europe and I will need some down time to be refreshed!

On a less happy note, my dear friend and travel companion, Megan, will be headed back to the States this weekend as it will be the end of her student teaching practicum. I'm going to miss her terribly but am just so glad she got to be here at all.

Until next time...
Cheers.

Top 11 Things to do in Dublin

2006-10-05T14:50:00.000-07:00

Our own version
by: Megan, Chelsea, and Tori

11. Stick to taking on the city by foot (when time and distance allow).

10. Find a reliable tour guide to lead you through Trinity College. Only those who use umbrellas as their leading sticks are acceptable.

9. Choose your favorite Guinness advertisement before taking the tour.

8. Visit the Globetrotters Hostel, if not to stay, then to enjoy their delicious breakfasts.

7. Sample a cafe vienna or mocha at the Joy of Coffee in Temple Bar.

6. Sample the market's fair trade coffee while listening to the guitarist who plays in the alley off of the market center near Temple Bar.

5. Ask a native Dublinite to tell you a joke (only do this if you have at least 30 minutes to listen to it).

4. Keep a log of all of the witty and absurd names of stores, restaurants and pubs. (See: Knobs and Knockers, Hickey's, Hairy Legs, Abrakababra, etc...)

3. Drink a Guinness from the Gravity Bar on the top floor of the factory.

2. Enjoy traditional Irish cuisine at the Quay in Temple Bar.

1. Spend all of your evenings at The Celt, listening to whichever amazing live Irish band happens to be there. Don't forget to practice your Irish jig!

Getting there is supposed to be half the fun...

2006-10-02T14:09:00.000-07:00

Perhaps.
Or just the most stressful.
Probably both.

This weekend Megan and I visited Dublin with another one of our friends who was traveling from Antwerp. In order to get to Dublin, one must take several modes of transportation from Brussels before reaching the final destination. From our house we must first take the tram to the metro stop, take the metro to the train station, take the bus from the train station to the airport, and then fly from the airport to Dublin. Our flight was leaving at 7:20 on Friday evening. I thought if we gave ourselves three hours to get there, we would have plenty of time to arrive before the "strictly 40 minutes" before departure time. I was mistaken.
We left our apartment at 4:40, laughing merrily and agreeing that it was quite good for the two of us to leave within 15 minutes of our anticipated departure time. We arrived at the tram stop five minutes later. While we were waiting at the stop, we ran into two other teachers from ISB, Norah and Niall, who were on their way to the city. And this is where the adventure begins...

Norah: So where are you girls headed?
Tori and Megan: (grinning) Dublin!
Norah: Wow, that's great! So how are you getting there?
Tori: We're taking the metro to Midi (the train station) and then catching the bus there.
Niall: Oh great. So do you know what time your bus leaves from Midi to the airport?
Pause. Megan and Tori glance at each other.
Tori and Megan: No?
Norah: Oh. Well they don't leave too often, you know. Like once every hour?
Tori and Megan: Oh...really?
Niall: But you should be fine. What time does your flight leave?
Megan: 7:20.
Niall: Oh...(steals a quick glance at Norah who is grimacing). Um...yeah...you should be okay.

We arrive at the metro stop at 4:55. Niall and Norah get on the same metro as us and do their best to ease our fears. Norah tells us she thought that the bus left two hours before a flight leaves, which would put the bus departure time at 5:20. Generally, it takes at least 30 minutes to get to Midi from our metro stop. This is when the panic starts to kick in.

Norah: Really, girls. You should be fine. Do you know where to catch the buses at Midi?
Pause. Megan and Tori glance at each other.
Megan and Tori: No...
Norah: Oh. Well, here, let me draw you a map.
Niall: Or better yet, just let us go there with you and show you the way. We're really in no hurry.

Megan and I gladly accept their offer. We have to make one transfer on the metro onto the metro that would take us to the train station. We jump off the first metro, and the four of us sprint to where we would be transferring, only to find that about 100 other people are waiting for the same metro. The metro pulls up shortly after we arrive. We do our best to beat the herd of people, and I think for a minute we had made it when Megan starts stepping into the metro, until the doors start shutting on her. Norah leaps forward and wraps her arms around Megan's waist to pull her back out of the metro. Once Megan's body is out of the doorway, the metro doors shut all the way, but latch on to Megan's flip flop, pulling it off her foot, and leaving it sticking out of the door. With the reflexes only a kindergarden teacher could possess, Norah leaps forward again to pull the flip flop out of the door before the metro takes off with it in its doors. She pulls it out, falls on the ground, and holds up the flip flop in victory. We only have a brief moment to celebrate, as the next metro arrives a short three minutes later.
We take the second metro with little commotion to Midi, arriving at exactly 5:30. The four of us push our way out of the metro, and proceed to sprint through the entirety of Midi towards the bus, the only mode of transportation left between us and our airplane. We arrive at the bus stop at 5:40 and ask the nearest man to us when the next bus was arriving. "6:00," he replies. We breath a sigh of relief. If the bus only took 45 minutes to get to the airport, that would leave us with 35 minutes before our plane departed. The man to whom we spoke assures us that he arrived at this airport with 15 minutes before his departure and they still let him on. Megan and I, still trying to catch our breath, smile at each other, relieved by our first "break." Norah and Niall leave us at this point, wishing us well as we tried to find the words to thank them for literally saving our trip.
Sure enough, the bus to the airport arrives within minutes, and we board almost immediately. I look at my watch. It's 5:47. "Wow," I say to Megan. "Maybe we'll even get to leave early!" The following is a time-tracked excerpt of my thoughts while sitting on the bus:
6:00-Still parked. Okay, time to leave!
6:01-Still parked. Maybe there are still some people waiting outside.
6:02-Still parked. Maybe my clock is fast.
6:03-Still parked. Why is the driver getting out of the bus?
6:03:30-Still parked. Why is the driver getting into his car?
6:05- Still parked. Okay, the bus driver is getting back in.
6:05:30-Still parked. The driver reaches down...(to put the bus in gear???)...and lifts up...is that...the cash box? Why is he counting the money now?!
6:06: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
6:07: Megan and I begin to pray.
6:08. I lose the ability to think.
6:09: We're off!

We arrive at the airport at 6:54, 26 minutes before our flight was due to take off. We sprint through the airport, Megan almost knocks over a child, and arrive at the check-in counter praying that the woman behind the counter had been waiting all day to fulfill her good deed of the day. Still gasping for breath, I ask the woman behind the counter, "Can we still go to Dublin??" The woman replies with an emotionless "Yeah."
She fiddles around on the computer.

Megan and I are holding our breath...

"Your flight is two hours delayed. You are both very lucky."

It took a few seconds for it to sink in. You mean I almost had a self-induced panic attack for nothing? I guess more than anything, I was just relieved we hadn't spent the 100 euro it would have cost to take a taxi.

Lesson learned: Memorize all tram/metro/train/bus schedules before thinking you know how long it will take to get somewhere.

Dublin was amazing. Not exactly what I had been picturing, and it rained nonstop, and our hostel smelled like rotten body odered clothes, but with a few glasses of Guinness, live Irish music, authentic Irish food, delicious coffee and great company, I realized all the "stress" felt before was completely worth it.

I will post pictures in my next blog.
Cheers.

Things that make you go awww

2006-09-28T15:28:00.000-07:00

1. The Little Old Woman and Her Not So Little Dog
I see a woman every morning on my route to school walking her dog. What makes this particular woman stand out from the other tens of thousands of dog owners in Brussels is that she is no more than four feet tall and owns a rottweiler that probably weighs more than she does. I'm intrigued by her height, intrigued by the disporportion of her to her dog, but mostly just happy that they have each other to keep each other company. I look forward to her wave and "Bonjour" every morning and maybe someday, when I've perfected my French (any day now), I will finally be filled in on the story of this seemingly unusual pair.

2. Fat Cat
There is a beauty salon on the route between my apartment and downtown Boitsfort (the commune in which I live). Just on the other side of the front window of the salon is a stool that has stood vacant since my arrival in August, that is until last week when I saw its occupant: a beige, cushion-sized cat. Honestly, if I were to meet it, I wouldn't know whether to pet it or to lay my head on it and use it for a pillow. I get excited walking past the salon now and peeking inside the window to glance at this animal wonder.

More to come later

Why walking is better

2006-09-26T13:35:00.000-07:00

In my first email, I gave a list of things I had missed about living in Brussels. One of the items on the list was finding that I could walk most places. On Sunday, after spending the afternoon downtown (we took advantage of Megan's last Sunday here to do the touristy hop-on, hop-off bus tour of Brussels) I decided I wanted to try walking home from downtown (it's about 5-6 miles away). I probably walked four of the miles, taking the bus during a stretch in the middle, and found that I could experience some aspects of Brussels only by walking through it. Like the smells from the restaurants and patisseries (bakeries). Only if I was walking past them could I smell the delicious aroma settling near the Thai restaurant on the route or the fresh bread baking a few blocks down. Or the sound of the music playing from the houses or apartment buildings and reaching my ears down below. Or the nice grocer who greeted me as I walked past. Or the sweet old man standing on his porch who returned my wave with a broad smile. *Sigh. My feet may have been a little sore when I returned home, but I had never felt more refreshed.

Me, Brussels, and a cup of coffee (or six)

2006-09-17T14:34:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here struggling to sum up the highlights of this weekend in a way to do it justice. I had the most amazing weekend in Europe (including my time here last year) just by having a get-to-know you weekend with the city of Brussels. As cliche as it sounds, I almost had a mantra going through my head of "There is nowhere else I would rather be." Like when I was walking through downtown Brussels yesterday with another intern (Lauren) and stumbled upon some sort of heritage parade with fabulous costumes and music. Or at either of the cafe stops I had yesterday in the city. Or finding a group of breakdancers near the Grand Plaz. Or walking around the city today on the city streets in celebration of No Car Day. Or listening to live music while drinking coffee while basking in the sun. Or seeing hundreds of children outside playing or riding their bikes instead of being inside watching TV. Or reading leaning up against a tree located in a park across from the Belgian palace. I've never been more in love with a city, and I find myself just hoping that this blissfulness never wears off. How am I ever going to be able to live anywhere else?

Are you a swatter or a dancer?

2006-09-17T14:18:00.000-07:00

Upon recalling the events from this weekend, I have decided to take on a new philosophy of life. Today at the market, there was a gypsy band playing fabulous music near the cafe at which I was drinking coffee. During their performance, a woman from the crowd moved closer to the band to start dancing to the music. She wasn't a part of the group, just a spectator moved by what she heard. She happened to be right in front of a bed of flowers being sold for the market and when she danced she would accidentally bump up against the flowers. Before long, an elderly woman (presumably the grower/seller of the flowers) started swatting her with one of the flags from the flower bed so she would stop dancing near her flowers. It was then I decided that in life, I could either be a swatter or a dancer. I could live life taking great care into what I was producing, focusing on the future (the future sale, the outcome of the situation) and probably get what I expected out of life, or I could be moved by what I felt, planned or unplanned, and occasionally bump up against some flowers.
Okay, so it's kind of a stretch. But I'm asking you to ask yourself: Today, am I going to swat? Or today, am I going to dance?

A slide show pour vous!

2006-09-14T14:49:00.000-07:00

Perusing in Paris

2006-09-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

Mmmm...

That's what I'll think when I think back to my weekend in Paris. It was blissful. The weather was beautiful. And I finally felt like a part of Paris instead of just a tourist.

We (Megan and I) arrived in Paris around 9 pm on Friday. We were greeted by a friend from home named Nico, who is actually from Paris, taken to the apartment in which we were going to be staying (just 3 blocks away from the Arc de Triomphe and Champs-Elysees), and escorted to a quaint bistro for a Parisian-Italian dinner.

After dinner, Megan wasn't feeling well so she went home to sleep. Nico and I decided to attend a going away party for one of his friends, with the promise that we were just going to drop by so he could say goodbye. Three hours later, we were walking back to where we were staying...

I was so grateful for the experience of a Parisian party. Everyone I met was so fantastic and so excited to practice their English (far superior to my French). One of my favorite parts of the night was meeting people with kisses on the cheek. One of the guys I met said "You can practice your French kissing" and then restated "I mean our French kissing, not your French kissing." We had some good laughs, drank some cheap wine, danced to French music, and then left after repeating the whole "French" french kissing system again to say goodbye. I had a great time.

Sunday after returning from Marseille, Megan, Nico and I spent the whole day just walking around Paris, soaking in the sun, seeing (but not waiting in line for) some sights, drinking coffee at French cafes, and eating delicious French food. We got to take a boat tour down the Seine, explored the Latin Quarter and its many cute shops and cafes, and ended our evening near the Sacre Coeur, my favorite spot from Paris last year. All in all...the perfect visit. No lines, just Paris.

Finagling in France

2006-09-11T11:28:00.000-07:00

This last weekend I was able to visit two cities in France, Paris and Marseille. Both were completely distinct, and both felt like two different trips, so I feel it necessary to write two different blogs to detail my journey. Since my trip to Marseille was shorter, I will start with that.
I've been told that one shouldn't judge a city based on just spending several hours there, and I tried not to during my time in Marseille, but I can say with much confidence that I will probably not be making any more trips there in the near future. I left for Marseille from Paris on Saturday morning with a friend from back home visiting France for the weekend and his friend. We walked out of the train station directly into the slums of Marseille, where even my two male companions were scared to be out walking. Once we got into the city, it got nicer (the weather was incredible, about 80 degrees and nothing but sun sun sun). The pride of the city is its Old Port, located right on the Mediterranean Sea(into which I got to dip my feet!). I can pretty much sum up the rest of my day-long trip with the following bullet points:
-My lunch was a 7 euro salad served to me in a plastic container with plastic silverwear
-The purpose of traveling to Marseille was to see a Pearl Jam concert at le Dome, which took us two hours walking to find (in flip flops and a skirt...agh...)
-The concert was the CRAZIEST thing I've ever seen. I guess I was expecting it to be wild, but this was ridiculous. I found myself in the middle of a mosh pit about 30 feet from the band, since the group I went with were die-hard fans. I ended up barely escaping and spending most of the concert watching from behind the pit of moshing.
-It took us an hour and a half to find our hotel after the concert, which we found out was booked once we got there (not by us, mind you). We called several others, and they were all either booked or out of our price range. We ended up staying up all night, driving, searching, and homeless.
-I saw my first prostitutes. Most were women; two were transvestites.
-I ate my dinner at 3 am.
-We caught the 6:30 am train back to Brussels.

There were parts of Marseille that I loved. How some of the buildings were built right into the hills. How I could smell the sea as soon as I stepped off the train. How there were friteries open at 3 am. But I think it is just one of those places I will be content with only visiting once. :)

First graders say the darndest things

2006-09-03T11:35:00.000-07:00

Of all the things going on this week, the most exciting part for me was finally getting to meet the first graders with whom I will be working this year. I am fortunate enough to get to work with four different classes, which means I'll get to observe four different teaching styles and be the only member of the first grade team who knows the names of all 80 first graders (I think I'm already 3/4 of the way there!) I've gotten to sit in on three classrooms so far, and can't wait until I've met all of the students.
Working with such a young age group has many benefits: their enthusiasm for learning, their love of their teachers, their impressionability. My favorite part about working with such age groups is listening to what they have to say, whether to me, another adult, or other children. Here are some of the things they've said so far:
-"Teaching the teacher...that's quite silly!"-When told that she would get to teach the teacher about hamsters
-"I take voice lessons too! Do you sing the song 'Do re mi fa so la ti do?'"
-"Can you imagine if the sky was purple?"
-"Who's the boss? You or Miss Byrne?" -asked to me by a student in Miss B.'s class

It's only been three days. I adore the first grade team (we had a group hug on Friday!). I keep hearing that this class is especially exceptional in behavior and academics. Is this too good to be true? All I know is, I'm going to enjoy it while I can. I can't wait to hear more first grader ideas and observations!

Adventures in Antwerp

2006-08-27T13:23:00.000-07:00

I attended a workshop this week that introduced us to a teaching strategy called "Headlines" which teaches students how to summarize or capture the essence of a period of time or anything else worth summarizing. If I were to write a Headline for this weekend, it would be:

Too much, too little, or too inappropriate to capture on one camera

There were so many times this weekend I spent in Antwerp, which is another city in Belgium (known for its diamonds and shopping), where I wanted to take a picture, but I knew it wouldn't do justice to what I saw in its context. Perhaps by giving some examples in which this took place, I can somehow "capture the essence" that was this weekend.
Too Much:
Antwerp is a beautiful city, and one that I only got a glimpse of last year when I visited the zoo there with my students. One thing my camera could not do justice capturing was the enormity of the main cathedral (the tallest in Belgium), named Our Lady, which can be seen in almost every part of the city. I love the subtlety of the architecture in Europe, how it seems to just blend in with the rest of the city and its more modern additions. That is, of course, until you're standing right in front of it and it's all you can look at. Much like how in Paris I would find my bearings by locating the Eiffel Tower, so I would in Antwerp by locating the cathedral.
Other images I could see but couldn't capture with my camera because of it's enormity were the Schelde River on the edge of the city, and the crowds and crowds of people attending the Cultural Festival that happened to be taking place today. I couldn't help but wonder what brought everyone else to Antwerp that particular day: were they from Antwerp? did they come just for the festival? why Antwerp and why this weekend? We had an especially good time people watching during the concerts and cafe breaks throughout the day.

Too Little:
Today also happened to be No Car Day in downtown Antwerp, so walking into the city was a particular treat when we could just walk right down the street without having to check for cars (the bikes, however, were particularly frightening at times, coming within inches of making little bike tire marks across our backs!). It was the most peculiar but amazing feeling, like we were somehow apart from modernity. This was, unfortunately, a bit difficult to somehow capture, as it is hard to take a picture of something that isn't there.

Too Inappropriate:
This consists of mostly of people I saw walking through the city, strolling through the market, etc, I felt would be offended/creeped out had I asked them to pose for me. I tried to keep track throughout the day, though, to just somehow remember the image.
1. The two old ladies with purple hair
2. A group of drag queens
3. Three women I saw out last night, I believed to have been a grandmother, her daughter, and her grandaughter, all out together. (I should preface this story by explaining that we found a townie bar near where we were staying that had a dance floor for the patrons to utilize whilst two men entertained the rest of the bar with some karaoke hits) During one of the songs, the middle-aged woman brought who I presumed to be her mother out and danced with her on the dance floor. Later, the grandaughter would join in. I was so impressed with how each woman seemed to care so deeply for the other. No cattiness, just joyful dancing and laughter and love.
4. Another example of a sweet family was one I saw today at the festival today. The son, who was probably 16, was walking next to his mom and put his arm around her, which she reciprocated. They then started doing a little dance while walking and were joined by the father who was on the other side of the boy. The boy clearly wasn't embarrassed to be seen walking around with his parents, and his parents clearly weren't embarrassed to be acting silly in public with their son. It was so refreshing.

So when pictures can't quite capture what I want them to, remembering what I felt when I saw a particular image will hopefully do it justice. I have seen so many beautiful things, and it's only been 11 days.

The apartment by the pond

2006-08-21T12:45:00.000-07:00

My apartment is great for many reasons: it's five minutes away from the school in which I work, it has an elevator which opens right up into the produce section of the grocery store on the bottom level, and it has a wide open living room, furnished with comfy furniture I look forward to relaxing in every day.
What I love most, however, is coming home and being able to look out the windows from my living room and see the gorgeous pond surrounded by forest just across the street from my apartment building. There dwells an assortment of birds, including ducks, geese, and one swan, which is down from two from last year. It breaks my heart to see the one swan by itself now. Perhaps its companion swan is still on holiday, visiting someplace fabulous like Malta or the Canary Islands and escaping from the rain that has managed to visit Brussels every day since I've arrived. I also look forward to the nights in October when the sun begins to set right over the forest line just beyond the pond. It's beautiful.
What I also love about being here is everytime I'm faced with an obstacle or inconvenience, all I have to say is "Oh well, I'm in Europe" and then go home and look at my pond. I think it's going to be a fabulous year.