tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1599646824151793242024-03-12T23:23:34.417-07:00Off on a New Adventure"That best portion of a good man's life are his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love."
William WordsworthGittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-82700326205372421152008-12-23T08:49:00.001-08:002009-01-28T09:21:31.808-08:00Home Sweet Home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdIyDjiyvIBu6rRMlb39mzMkOyHfk1EkaRAMmOyeT4-f9eCk5JiIoZPkaRBFS56PojEfGXp30IiZ_ANuRZESYwlqStylw2NswIl09rbe8Ri7F9lAwakIUeoU9I4eSH4I6QRNwESwnvCcj/s1600-h/CIMG2965.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296395148430378610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdIyDjiyvIBu6rRMlb39mzMkOyHfk1EkaRAMmOyeT4-f9eCk5JiIoZPkaRBFS56PojEfGXp30IiZ_ANuRZESYwlqStylw2NswIl09rbe8Ri7F9lAwakIUeoU9I4eSH4I6QRNwESwnvCcj/s320/CIMG2965.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDT1zRq5MwdIafghgOxxFVq09FodNgpmu_y7R4tfnxl_wsHCXd9QXjAJmAh2yQYuiLvohLMLwhyfvvA_EZ9ZzujiysNnfK4S-zUCqkyePy3wr2PcePw9L1LwGPKzxsc9E_edGGMwrBHhn/s1600-h/DSCF0068.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296393891636449010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDT1zRq5MwdIafghgOxxFVq09FodNgpmu_y7R4tfnxl_wsHCXd9QXjAJmAh2yQYuiLvohLMLwhyfvvA_EZ9ZzujiysNnfK4S-zUCqkyePy3wr2PcePw9L1LwGPKzxsc9E_edGGMwrBHhn/s320/DSCF0068.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrVRxLN-cM4nmW29snRdrbhC5pwSAod-_eqNssEPxAcVr9WMAdzIHuXpn5HJXgOha-RX0TKpeFLjLrAjT3rGIMUNboK7pcVvVEKH1sSwFThpkNUuboZxy736PeTGxMmT7nfvZaZuGoMdI/s1600-h/DSCF0126.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296393190165637490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrVRxLN-cM4nmW29snRdrbhC5pwSAod-_eqNssEPxAcVr9WMAdzIHuXpn5HJXgOha-RX0TKpeFLjLrAjT3rGIMUNboK7pcVvVEKH1sSwFThpkNUuboZxy736PeTGxMmT7nfvZaZuGoMdI/s320/DSCF0126.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_PL1-Wrl9W_99dXYb-zprRsZRloynzXQiRUHEj-crRk0JfHFABoykQcKPse8TYHiHUuSxT5WKLE3YiyEM9E6-5xwyzbYbj-i-7spSkv814nbktU092XTEu5QtEEgYgbycJRW2Ze7s4Mx/s1600-h/DSCF0104.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296391899903169586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_PL1-Wrl9W_99dXYb-zprRsZRloynzXQiRUHEj-crRk0JfHFABoykQcKPse8TYHiHUuSxT5WKLE3YiyEM9E6-5xwyzbYbj-i-7spSkv814nbktU092XTEu5QtEEgYgbycJRW2Ze7s4Mx/s320/DSCF0104.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Wow. I can't believe that I am finally home. This past week has been a blur. On Thursday night I said goodbye to Brussels and headed by train to London with all of my belongings. Suzie and Stephen picked me up and I stayed at their house for the night. The next morning we all had a delicious breakfast together and by the afternoon I was ready to go to Heathrow airport. I took the long tube ride and made it to Heathrow in plenty of time to check my baggage and take a deep breath.<br /><br />I will take a moment here to explain how my anxiety had been growing day by day for the past week. Apparently an enormous snow storm was in full swing at home in Seattle and my worst fear was that my plane wouldn't be able to land due to weather conditions. Even if I could land at Seatac, the likelihood that I might not have anyone to greet me was yet another worry twirling around in my mind. </div><br /><div>With many prayers and incredible timing I successfully landed in Seattle... we were even 20 minutes ahead of schedule! I went through customs in a blur of exhaustion after a 10 hour flight and I searched with anticipation for a familiar face. It was amazing to see my mom scanning the crowds for me and I knew that I could finally relax after a week filled with anxiety and worry. Thankfully, my mom, dad, and I arrived safely at home late Friday night. </div><br /><div>I wasn't at home for long. Saturday afternoon the snow came flying down so I went over to Seattle so that I would not miss the Nutcracker with Hailey, Tatum, Sarah, and Derek. It was amazing to see the girls after being away for so long. We played in the snow, drank hot tea, laughed, and had a wonderful time the entire weekend. It was so much fun to be snowed in for a couple nights with people I love so dearly!</div><br /><div>I came home before Christmas and I cannot even explain how amazing it was to see my family all together after being gone for four months. Christmas day was such a gift. Little Torsten's head of curly hair thickened considerably while his vocabulary had far surpassed what it was when I left in August. Sweet little Aadie is who has really changed! She has grown so big and her face is too precious to even describe. </div><br /><div>Being away made me appreciate what I have even more than before. I am so grateful for the joy, love, and sacrifice that my family and friends bring to me life. What an incredible gift to have people waiting with anticipation for you no matter how far away you are! </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-15193601417021300212008-12-10T04:51:00.000-08:002008-12-23T09:18:29.993-08:00European Parliament<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSPPDo5aeKFKnoZ7YBReKWHJZ0w8qUxb4_uEHW3-JZj5cio7o4xrCZmOmDLPUXc_krLpmIjhzOFx-Ey1ZVZWC6w4fhW5Bx3EfBzPT6kqGBlVyWD8JTCzecxF2m9NBpuqfppY1tYH-Usw1/s1600-h/BRU%2520Brussels%2520European%2520Parliament%2520building%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278147641982841266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSPPDo5aeKFKnoZ7YBReKWHJZ0w8qUxb4_uEHW3-JZj5cio7o4xrCZmOmDLPUXc_krLpmIjhzOFx-Ey1ZVZWC6w4fhW5Bx3EfBzPT6kqGBlVyWD8JTCzecxF2m9NBpuqfppY1tYH-Usw1/s320/BRU%2520Brussels%2520European%2520Parliament%2520building%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfy1w7SP3n27dh_v3nLvpcQQa9nzc_YK4TcrtwJvJe27D4nECfZkYDU6w6MVl7wxfzxGl7XKVEldky290zZ__UxUhc8piPwzYmpcxw9O1ToD3KnCDBpSoilWP_7lcr_ZUVAxXB9U0vDZl/s1600-h/800px-European-parliament-brussels-inside%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278146619562579058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfy1w7SP3n27dh_v3nLvpcQQa9nzc_YK4TcrtwJvJe27D4nECfZkYDU6w6MVl7wxfzxGl7XKVEldky290zZ__UxUhc8piPwzYmpcxw9O1ToD3KnCDBpSoilWP_7lcr_ZUVAxXB9U0vDZl/s320/800px-European-parliament-brussels-inside%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today I was able to tour the European Parliament. A friend of mine works there and offered to give me a tour before I left, so I just couldn't pass the opportunity up! </div><br /><div>My friend met me there and he filled out some paperwork so that I could get into the building. It was quite the process just to get past security. They checked my passport, took a picture of me, and I went through a metal detector. Once inside I was able to see some of the offices and tour around the massive buildings that are all connected and make up the Parliament.</div><br /><div>The coolest part was the huge room where they discuss and pass bills. There are 23 official languages within the parliament. High above all of the seats are little box offices where the translating is done for every language. On the outside the language is written on the window so everyone can see which language is being translated. Languages include Bulgarian, Maltese, German, Swedish, and Romanian. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>a</div><div>The European Parliament has two meeting places: Strasbourg, France and Brussels, Belgium. The complex in Brussels houses committee meetings, political groups, and plenary sessions (conferences where all parties are in attendence). It was incredible to go into such a massive establishment that houses one of the most powerful legislatures in the world . </div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/2e/European-parliament-brussels-inside.JPG"></a></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-53912424733464461942008-12-07T11:28:00.001-08:002008-12-23T09:01:34.620-08:00Gennie's Birthday Party!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KgFxU8Lm-IdHkZrvjNpRPlrpTBP6UNzpRQqRSO39SEtkZpcipiEFddNInjXjaRHgdA9S5Lz5YBGauA8DOvFUGBhGoA7SKqvC2UXgFDcsj4tNT0C4hIEFIxJtsgqPy33wntz5sJ4VcX0n/s1600-h/P1000137%5B1%5D.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283031543884816754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KgFxU8Lm-IdHkZrvjNpRPlrpTBP6UNzpRQqRSO39SEtkZpcipiEFddNInjXjaRHgdA9S5Lz5YBGauA8DOvFUGBhGoA7SKqvC2UXgFDcsj4tNT0C4hIEFIxJtsgqPy33wntz5sJ4VcX0n/s320/P1000137%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRMeLCQGYclCx2xZLnQsVOLYb1Amix441N__sc2dJShjF4rHWB0sT96paPpXjImK9bCl8LztyzpPxXHoMN42VdoL5KgzL_fcvWi8Ofo_PzaCnp7rPhTCKA4vrooFvvv4ZZ157Od8LD0Wd/s1600-h/P1000141%5B1%5D.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283030122469141410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRMeLCQGYclCx2xZLnQsVOLYb1Amix441N__sc2dJShjF4rHWB0sT96paPpXjImK9bCl8LztyzpPxXHoMN42VdoL5KgzL_fcvWi8Ofo_PzaCnp7rPhTCKA4vrooFvvv4ZZ157Od8LD0Wd/s320/P1000141%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>This past weekend we celebrated Gennie's 18th birthday. The party had been in the works for months. So, needless to say, Gennie was ecstatic.</div><br /><div>Suzie, Stephen, Max, and his girlfriend Charlotte all came over for the big birthday bash. All day Saturday we prepared. The most important errand on our agenda was to find costumes. Theme: Cowboys and Indians. After perusing the big Party Store in Brussels for some time, we found the perfect warrior costume for Stephen; big Chief headdress included. We bought a matching and slightly more dainty version of Stephen's outfit for Suzie to wear. Max bought a cowboy hat and gun for his costume and Charlotte was ready to go with her costume from London. I got a cowboy hat to accesorize my cowgirl attire. </div><br /><div>Saturday night we all got ready together. After Stephen, Suzie, Charlotte, and Gennie applied their warrior face paint we were ready to go! Our next move was slightly controversial. We entered a nice Italian restaurant clad in ridiculous costumes (shopping for the perfect outfit does create quite the appetite). We received a plethara of strange glances, several laughs, and one small child looked at us with wide eyes and called out to his mom.</div><br /><div>After dinner we headed over to the large bar that they had rented out for Gennie's party. Gennie and four of her friends decided to throw a big birthday party together to share the costs of an open bar. Before long, a slew of about 150 highschoolers came in ready for the night. </div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-33819494863928858132008-11-29T23:53:00.001-08:002008-12-05T05:00:18.285-08:00Germany<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rEKpB8DPjyhYrYb-Cj8GQ-eILMlZy7zp2C_iYJxnW-VSGJoi8KGdRK0pM48-jUkbDTsZv89UiktECncF1QuNlga63LvtItd61wf24SjGmJdN5_KGqPzaPPo8H10-B6mHVaThdpWtIz4o/s1600-h/CIMG3338.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274496530670673922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rEKpB8DPjyhYrYb-Cj8GQ-eILMlZy7zp2C_iYJxnW-VSGJoi8KGdRK0pM48-jUkbDTsZv89UiktECncF1QuNlga63LvtItd61wf24SjGmJdN5_KGqPzaPPo8H10-B6mHVaThdpWtIz4o/s320/CIMG3338.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KorEHgvROAhpT58gJso-hMiCJL37lekKKY02ABl9BTcs0OnQL0w3Lgtr__3mChjrYS_NkOyyiOF8pskFHUIa4g3eOn-hdk44SiKwihzhhIJ_k0SuT_BwH-HeayMSC8BQFQSpImqPnCgf/s1600-h/CIMG3340.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274496521487941698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9KorEHgvROAhpT58gJso-hMiCJL37lekKKY02ABl9BTcs0OnQL0w3Lgtr__3mChjrYS_NkOyyiOF8pskFHUIa4g3eOn-hdk44SiKwihzhhIJ_k0SuT_BwH-HeayMSC8BQFQSpImqPnCgf/s320/CIMG3340.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Yesterday, my friend Megan and I spent the day in Germany. We left in the morning to go to Aachen, a German town near the border of Belgium. I heard a few weeks ago that Germany is known for their amazing Christmas markets so I knew that this was not something to miss! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiXrpKWdOoyo87V-8Ni-H10BTujEUuErBTLkk3QCte9W1U-j5pZPgwRx5UgbaZEYE7I1jDFGT3C4IQvMnEXsF7X-3ijwXwTMrgwb1xhwZs8sufqH3Jss2SUFYSjpywuKC-WmRs31WuXbN/s1600-h/CIMG3335.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274496519186458210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiXrpKWdOoyo87V-8Ni-H10BTujEUuErBTLkk3QCte9W1U-j5pZPgwRx5UgbaZEYE7I1jDFGT3C4IQvMnEXsF7X-3ijwXwTMrgwb1xhwZs8sufqH3Jss2SUFYSjpywuKC-WmRs31WuXbN/s320/CIMG3335.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The train ride was an hour and a half and when we got to Aachen we were ready to see the infamous market. It wasn't long before we heard music and saw the bustle of people. Literally we turned a corner and the sight was incredible. Lights lined the streets and thousands of people were enjoying the shops and Christmas festivities. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCPYOJdvw7gX1dEH6t5ijE7vmXFYWQZdL6gLvchFKcAmlt02FOTaFcg62X0SMwr_HaZGyVXj5d4Vzfdzj2dGha_iNklTP8OEu_iBcCIOxpv2rk3TbJ6PHbnYouL4sf_kcfAMY_Jjexv9C/s1600-h/CIMG3329.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274496504631111986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCPYOJdvw7gX1dEH6t5ijE7vmXFYWQZdL6gLvchFKcAmlt02FOTaFcg62X0SMwr_HaZGyVXj5d4Vzfdzj2dGha_iNklTP8OEu_iBcCIOxpv2rk3TbJ6PHbnYouL4sf_kcfAMY_Jjexv9C/s320/CIMG3329.JPG" border="0" /></a> It was funny because my stereotype of Germans and their love for beer and bratwurst was pretty accurate! The crowds of people did not deter anyone from holding their gigantic sausage dogs in one hand and a hefty beverage in the other. The smells were spectacular. Crêpes with nutella, fresh gingerbread, and other goodies were being sold by the hundreds. Little stores were filled with fresh chocolates and cookies that were packaged beautifully for the Holidays.<br /><br /><div>The Christmas Spirit in Germany was alive and well and I would highly recommend it! </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-88522288162928580722008-11-23T09:50:00.001-08:002008-12-02T00:20:48.089-08:00Oslo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gWSxASv7NPiX5e610XtIdJqZQbx6uFxUl97pRV4Twtdz4pVj6Fx_5EvmAiSuydMHf70nNZidyB5U5Zv259w6YPq1wYq5WLO0BX6TKYmPq991YnSRujTU-i4LsMS6GleR_kKIyDRYsI28/s1600-h/CIMG3288.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271912941832286626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gWSxASv7NPiX5e610XtIdJqZQbx6uFxUl97pRV4Twtdz4pVj6Fx_5EvmAiSuydMHf70nNZidyB5U5Zv259w6YPq1wYq5WLO0BX6TKYmPq991YnSRujTU-i4LsMS6GleR_kKIyDRYsI28/s320/CIMG3288.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTaNm7sDhVvr85h6XwNxpR4pck64-tOoijP9BBoVOY6E-SlxNBWUHTgSc4uouGrjwGQgMYCTxTR4yUHu7YgetEdsAx0zamHlfcxCIXs4kKwQLsw32Auo_eyLMVAh-D6pAK-uvwuYE7CzbZ/s1600-h/CIMG3295.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271912940606075266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTaNm7sDhVvr85h6XwNxpR4pck64-tOoijP9BBoVOY6E-SlxNBWUHTgSc4uouGrjwGQgMYCTxTR4yUHu7YgetEdsAx0zamHlfcxCIXs4kKwQLsw32Auo_eyLMVAh-D6pAK-uvwuYE7CzbZ/s320/CIMG3295.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRgTQqNPL5F6aDZME7PmYJaPRodr6w_L_Jb1fj4ILLO8ClRFlgWm97WV7jFQHN44YM95CDWJb-lWuffsP2b6DUXcTNgUQb_Up7AW3H9xbTDYDUsWAFPguZhZyQROvOEBDjU9A9MDLA7U3/s1600-h/CIMG3291.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271912935971311378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWRgTQqNPL5F6aDZME7PmYJaPRodr6w_L_Jb1fj4ILLO8ClRFlgWm97WV7jFQHN44YM95CDWJb-lWuffsP2b6DUXcTNgUQb_Up7AW3H9xbTDYDUsWAFPguZhZyQROvOEBDjU9A9MDLA7U3/s320/CIMG3291.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271912925439857442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwezEE3WTTlL_Jan-QflXYj1_bWRqK-5dDiXEE7AOnrcFJzMvhpX4btA2strk72JjKo4r-tIKgKdlixY7RX-HtMhXyPNMRb2EJ2FjTBdgMcGnqywdNkwWpqDluJ_c6oPPjZaOImzc7oC3c/s320/CIMG3286.JPG" border="0" />On Saturday morning Lisa and I were off to Oslo on a train. I figured that when in Norway it is essential to visit the capital city! We had great timing because as soon as we got to Oslo we caught the changing of the guards at the Palace. We walked around the city exploring the shops and watching the people.<br /><br />We got to visit an old fortress overlooking the harbor. The view was beautiful! Lisa climbed up to pose with F.D.R. while I insisted on a picture with a statue named Jorgen (that one's for you Jorgen!). As we walked along the boardwalk we watched a magnificent sunset.<br /><br />Oslo is one of the most beautiful cities that I have visited so far. First of all, the company was great, but I also loved the frigid cold, clean air, and pretty landscape. The cold did get the better of us and we were pretty excited when Lisa's friend Ibbe picked us up and we hung out the rest of the night in a nice warm home.<br /><br />I ended up getting almost no sleep because I was up at 4:15am to catch the train to the airport the next morning. Another fun adventure come to an end!</div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-40610078588661172292008-11-21T09:23:00.000-08:002008-11-24T06:44:24.962-08:00Norway<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiHleHcQ_qDBbwVzCtjNkUyvPslRJrh3x128S3P7b_c1RzTd-o1IC3GD_kyTOgiAyQGp0ms4_Dw5jPtaYgt_pOIsFEhro4y-yAihCYqykX-DCf3gk0PmluqwiHFDQbwF6ZMZpmKsfxBGj/s1600-h/CIMG3277.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271909489458166786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiHleHcQ_qDBbwVzCtjNkUyvPslRJrh3x128S3P7b_c1RzTd-o1IC3GD_kyTOgiAyQGp0ms4_Dw5jPtaYgt_pOIsFEhro4y-yAihCYqykX-DCf3gk0PmluqwiHFDQbwF6ZMZpmKsfxBGj/s320/CIMG3277.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnLMQ9BW9sm5T97um-W96R5tjQVFAypMgCWuRM2LopZoQGPWqWfmzP6BS27J_msyJuCuITxV16rxd0BHC8n_l4q5U_uPaFXOrl5dmcI39S9VWm21uQntL-4bm7KIlnQEQnq0giSIJIXNJ/s1600-h/CIMG3272.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271909486382181522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnLMQ9BW9sm5T97um-W96R5tjQVFAypMgCWuRM2LopZoQGPWqWfmzP6BS27J_msyJuCuITxV16rxd0BHC8n_l4q5U_uPaFXOrl5dmcI39S9VWm21uQntL-4bm7KIlnQEQnq0giSIJIXNJ/s320/CIMG3272.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1I4AL1hu5Vync1maHRVCehybrKJwvSeLwZiAn7d3DxhyitXVAE5VX4UWShwUh7EDqH1ljYAqkoLr4Jma9HUCXd40zKvy_WciA7yEkpR1C5fyilS0SuC5JHhuvyWvm45YzwhnwW-i_RAFq/s1600-h/CIMG3271.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271909474587718050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1I4AL1hu5Vync1maHRVCehybrKJwvSeLwZiAn7d3DxhyitXVAE5VX4UWShwUh7EDqH1ljYAqkoLr4Jma9HUCXd40zKvy_WciA7yEkpR1C5fyilS0SuC5JHhuvyWvm45YzwhnwW-i_RAFq/s320/CIMG3271.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU9Mv_xy3kDYkqS1_aRjda140FJy2EwNcpj8a2zA-x7mBiM_jzEWfmKpxH_YP55OB4hFNGEWMoSoS4QNOmPtb1-7nyVb79dfbJ8RJHe8nUSkDwPGqXnJHT9paJJCFDxNRtqAh1yYX2mbG/s1600-h/CIMG3276.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271909462785909714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyU9Mv_xy3kDYkqS1_aRjda140FJy2EwNcpj8a2zA-x7mBiM_jzEWfmKpxH_YP55OB4hFNGEWMoSoS4QNOmPtb1-7nyVb79dfbJ8RJHe8nUSkDwPGqXnJHT9paJJCFDxNRtqAh1yYX2mbG/s320/CIMG3276.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BplnUOLAQOFDM_UkHRY5-4ZdKKHk3zeJXzThPVIN7ItqcSnAG7KSWX1xeTpK8zp6DtEqCOT6HuIe82XVfKR3IpdEk48xaRZwbsedPyvzSGQ1YhTqitsXZq7wfrcrgpLA3UrwjvcX1oH3/s1600-h/Gitta+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271168456049814834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BplnUOLAQOFDM_UkHRY5-4ZdKKHk3zeJXzThPVIN7ItqcSnAG7KSWX1xeTpK8zp6DtEqCOT6HuIe82XVfKR3IpdEk48xaRZwbsedPyvzSGQ1YhTqitsXZq7wfrcrgpLA3UrwjvcX1oH3/s320/Gitta+006.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLeBkaYgg2axx9quScgPuzCue95hxMggfgp-hPpWLoXHvLBH2YMPsZHE50IANeXUipgkDXD9XMw6buoMInU8_KQKhWXqzhapzv9uGU1OVWkXMdIz4PtNrIMt3ETRcB0fCefi6kxM5tjrK/s1600-h/Gitta+010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271168453576159730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLeBkaYgg2axx9quScgPuzCue95hxMggfgp-hPpWLoXHvLBH2YMPsZHE50IANeXUipgkDXD9XMw6buoMInU8_KQKhWXqzhapzv9uGU1OVWkXMdIz4PtNrIMt3ETRcB0fCefi6kxM5tjrK/s320/Gitta+010.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFl50C9CM1cQaPHo_IlOWxm_ViIrigBhDxrRyShAdlf9NrYN4bTrQ8aIi9uVBJ-GccdsGXUqXjY0qO6dPytZOPn4mAfOLHvuVPPsjhBg9tz73DqEdoi2oIiJbUuYMOS6IO3__uCCX7RaH/s1600-h/Gitta+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271168448964313378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFl50C9CM1cQaPHo_IlOWxm_ViIrigBhDxrRyShAdlf9NrYN4bTrQ8aIi9uVBJ-GccdsGXUqXjY0qO6dPytZOPn4mAfOLHvuVPPsjhBg9tz73DqEdoi2oIiJbUuYMOS6IO3__uCCX7RaH/s320/Gitta+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />On Wednesday afternoon I flew out to visit my cousin, Lisa, who is living in Norway. I landed in Oslo and then took an hour train ride north to a town called Hamar. Lars, Lisa's boyfriend, picked me up at the train station and then we met Lisa at work. When I got off the train I was so surprised because a fresh layer of snow had fallen earlier that day! The air was so cold and fresh there. </div><div><br /> </div><div>It was wonderful to see my cousin and I ended up working with her the whole night at the little cafe in which she works. It wasn't very busy so we just hung out, made some food, chatted, and enjoyed catching up. When we got home at 11:30 Wednesday night we fell into bed exhausted.<br /><br />Thursday was a busy day. We decided before I got to Norway that it was essential to celebrate Thanksgiving together since we wouldn't be with family this year. We took a little walk around town and went shopping for our feast. It was difficult to find the right ingredients for all of the traditional foods that we are used to, but we did our best with what we found. We mashed potatoes by hand, slaved away making bean casserole, turkey, and my Auntie Jill's infamous fruit salad. We topped it off with a homemade apple pie for dessert. Lisa and I were pretty impressed with ourselves that we pulled off a delicious meal all by ourselves. We are pretty sure that Lars and his friend Martin thoroughly enjoyed the wonderfully authentic Thanksgiving dinner due to their sizable second-helpings and content faces.<br /><br />Friday morning we had a slow start and enjoyed a long walk around Hamar. There's a huge lake near Lisa's apartment and the ice was already starting to build up on the rocks where the water splashed up. We bundled up and I had fun seeing Lisa's town. </div></div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-70434194468284326232008-11-18T00:51:00.000-08:002008-12-05T04:59:57.555-08:00Spain<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9aZd2PzzgYXbpm-BVubsVT11vbvQPXQdj511JUKU38FfswZqtx0aGJzQNgBA_TtagdOnWnhj1uiaRPCfaj1EXeO7HPfMUg7j-fU2KNNrC7aup7DkjynfGhgWDEcvhkvERbxMNG8XcHtL/s1600-h/CIMG3258.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926623417289474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9aZd2PzzgYXbpm-BVubsVT11vbvQPXQdj511JUKU38FfswZqtx0aGJzQNgBA_TtagdOnWnhj1uiaRPCfaj1EXeO7HPfMUg7j-fU2KNNrC7aup7DkjynfGhgWDEcvhkvERbxMNG8XcHtL/s320/CIMG3258.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5Luf63ftpkLk2mLE8liyM5HzAPg4WtDklOV5aoQJDi23-NOU6wniMfuz8a1CzJlrmrv1oh-Ar3kUEN08J7qs4nvapUMd7jXHjqwasfI6HgpUqu9xFWRJ34gIBN402WQxF-TdukRY8fhU/s1600-h/CIMG3220.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926618399758498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5Luf63ftpkLk2mLE8liyM5HzAPg4WtDklOV5aoQJDi23-NOU6wniMfuz8a1CzJlrmrv1oh-Ar3kUEN08J7qs4nvapUMd7jXHjqwasfI6HgpUqu9xFWRJ34gIBN402WQxF-TdukRY8fhU/s320/CIMG3220.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOiFLxlrZ_bL_vwTE4HDF0uoPfvDCkajZEmbOywd82-h7pKrYjDx9OX67XVRKMjb7gmbQE9PKr6NFGZQB2vM_C4N3ouBk2Ukjog0CQcXVnfacwoLkk7NCWDII6IQiiZhPNebpz3fcT9gA/s1600-h/CIMG3256.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926610655522946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOiFLxlrZ_bL_vwTE4HDF0uoPfvDCkajZEmbOywd82-h7pKrYjDx9OX67XVRKMjb7gmbQE9PKr6NFGZQB2vM_C4N3ouBk2Ukjog0CQcXVnfacwoLkk7NCWDII6IQiiZhPNebpz3fcT9gA/s320/CIMG3256.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmPqTeJEWiTPr2msz2AjEVcBzcQ9I5GSyQJNSCk5vJwsfx9lxSHG2T0P-tUBPRcGJ_Sph_ZxC_2cJ0tsw0pkUEg04Gtqb4q1X54hJuThPvpg2yZMmKxNR3HUBENG9D3G22nRyWou3xTZk/s1600-h/CIMG3249.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926603952742930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmPqTeJEWiTPr2msz2AjEVcBzcQ9I5GSyQJNSCk5vJwsfx9lxSHG2T0P-tUBPRcGJ_Sph_ZxC_2cJ0tsw0pkUEg04Gtqb4q1X54hJuThPvpg2yZMmKxNR3HUBENG9D3G22nRyWou3xTZk/s320/CIMG3249.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtJicG-epVcWcYJSVVWhYSarcI3Atm79FGUTKoJihy5x5HuLAneN5hcjCTNVQpBN3hN9AHfxfoHl63Xd4KxRwvBAk7zac-tQ9m5ypB86jC-tHu9-D1HtxKFusO0Yj6PenpWn6t2S5hO18/s1600-h/CIMG3254.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269926602589578978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQtJicG-epVcWcYJSVVWhYSarcI3Atm79FGUTKoJihy5x5HuLAneN5hcjCTNVQpBN3hN9AHfxfoHl63Xd4KxRwvBAk7zac-tQ9m5ypB86jC-tHu9-D1HtxKFusO0Yj6PenpWn6t2S5hO18/s320/CIMG3254.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>This weekend I went to Granada, a town in southern Spain that lies right next to the Sierra Nevada mountains and an hour from the Mediterranean Sea. It was beautiful! I stayed with a friend and her husband in their apartment right in the center of Granada. </div><br /><div>I flew in on Friday afternoon from Brussels and was greeted by my friend at the airport. We dropped my bag off at the apartment and then went out to see the town. The streets and architecture have a completely different feel than other parts of Europe that I have visited. Southern Spain has a lot of Islamic influence so the artwork and colors used for decorations are very unique. The old cathedral in the center of town used to be a mosque that the Muslims built but it was taken by the Spanish and converted into a cathedral.</div><br /><div>On Saturday we visited the Alhambra (it was considered for the list of the Seven Wonders of the World). It was a Muslim palace and fortress that overlooks Granada and was completed in the 14th century. The Islamic architecture is incredibly intricate and I was amazed by the details that went into each room. A beautiful stream runs through the gardens and past the palace and mosque that lie within the fortress walls. There are 13 stone towers that come up from the fortress. The Alhambra has a red glow to it because of the redish colored clay that they used when building it. Alhambra literally means "the red one."</div><br />Saturday evening we went to a flamenco concert. Granada has a large gypsy population and people come from all over the world to study flamenco music, dancing, and gypsy culture. It was really cool to see this unusual dancing that was accompanied by music on the stage.<br /><br /><div>Sunday morning we woke up and went to the main square to have authentic Spanish churros. Everyone goes out on Sunday mornings for churros dipped in chocolate... not the most healthy breakfast but it was definitely something I needed to experience! It was very delicious. We then went to the gypsy flee market and wandered around the shops. After that we went back to the apartment for some tea and fruit which we finished off with a Spanish siesta. </div><br /><div>We went back out again Sunday night to explore the Albaicin district of Granada. It is one of the oldest parts of the city and it is in the Arab district. We took a small bus that winded up the narrow streets to the top of a huge hill. I think that this was one of the most beautiful parts of the city. Each house had a colorful piece of tile mounted on the stone wall that displayed the name of the house. There were hidden courtyards with colorful flowers and fruit trees around every corner. Apparently it is very expensive to live in some parts of the Albaicin. We then went back down to the center of the city and enjoyed tapas at a restaurant. Tapas are unique to Granada and it is when you go out to a restaurant and order a drink that comes with complimentary food. It was a wonderful way to finish off the weekend! </div><br /><div>Monday morning I flew back to Brussels. It felt so good to crawl into my bed and enjoy the comforts of home!</div></div></div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-84206129692093582192008-11-05T07:32:00.000-08:002008-11-23T09:36:30.492-08:00Our Apartment in Tervuren<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xfoIAaw5SQ3T7mLO5Jv-sfXEc1dAB1WFGf8AmtzkQg4jiTpO4lQyo3_i_Z-nlouWZEb1cXc5gbHsaT_zkwNLU0hSJdU34VoO2Zlb2gnbReiJkzTuqburtmo0XzkKxoY3IVqUkSf0Snqg/s1600-h/CIMG3325.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271896413732991666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xfoIAaw5SQ3T7mLO5Jv-sfXEc1dAB1WFGf8AmtzkQg4jiTpO4lQyo3_i_Z-nlouWZEb1cXc5gbHsaT_zkwNLU0hSJdU34VoO2Zlb2gnbReiJkzTuqburtmo0XzkKxoY3IVqUkSf0Snqg/s320/CIMG3325.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfkusLUAxbEy-Fc0-iKu-ki6_l4R3wMtzDOPD2HY_yZ77WDgVgHErhcRTeS2p-p-eo4-5Hbg0WJbZk_EdAGogcDCEuWs-T2ebgIwXl8WmOuEGXLIFLiQB7lbl0eCDxTjqzFHepqPVYOR9/s1600-h/CIMG3311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271896403365356018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNfkusLUAxbEy-Fc0-iKu-ki6_l4R3wMtzDOPD2HY_yZ77WDgVgHErhcRTeS2p-p-eo4-5Hbg0WJbZk_EdAGogcDCEuWs-T2ebgIwXl8WmOuEGXLIFLiQB7lbl0eCDxTjqzFHepqPVYOR9/s320/CIMG3311.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas0vi3yBfaxaGGlDf7uggLIpdu7exmcyYVqg-VbuC8whwvhiBmyUN0mNNwsxVsR_m1osZ76vosvQnFkwuFH02M0eDUja1rTPT8VaLdBBKIYSLI2foRgbLEFSkP4Z6orKhFnpKHt6YsiNZ/s1600-h/CIMG3323.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271896361578772594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas0vi3yBfaxaGGlDf7uggLIpdu7exmcyYVqg-VbuC8whwvhiBmyUN0mNNwsxVsR_m1osZ76vosvQnFkwuFH02M0eDUja1rTPT8VaLdBBKIYSLI2foRgbLEFSkP4Z6orKhFnpKHt6YsiNZ/s320/CIMG3323.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hxm0rnVLPndgCPZAp2ahKUZpUeXBuvMR8VVWNBcjwp14SFQcdoJMsCUL2W2C33gFZIY_7Fg8gKcA6CA8nKDVjQ8jTpBM5z7kc2ZwhP0beQ6SsWj4Y_HX0SWe-TJ5s7goEbDkYjZc3Exs/s1600-h/CIMG3308.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271896358976596706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hxm0rnVLPndgCPZAp2ahKUZpUeXBuvMR8VVWNBcjwp14SFQcdoJMsCUL2W2C33gFZIY_7Fg8gKcA6CA8nKDVjQ8jTpBM5z7kc2ZwhP0beQ6SsWj4Y_HX0SWe-TJ5s7goEbDkYjZc3Exs/s320/CIMG3308.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFggwWSI7aMEhw-_Wpn3zs_MrlTmLiRxF40KcgPyfK2zFUl-3wAusjHevfugbD9ij_FKI1jgdzQgYKHO0JK43TF0hznaEl8IZtlQsmG-wheJtfCWfjbVq1X98iZwvbTu-UXVrfKSQK_17L/s1600-h/CIMG3324.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271896356136109170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFggwWSI7aMEhw-_Wpn3zs_MrlTmLiRxF40KcgPyfK2zFUl-3wAusjHevfugbD9ij_FKI1jgdzQgYKHO0JK43TF0hznaEl8IZtlQsmG-wheJtfCWfjbVq1X98iZwvbTu-UXVrfKSQK_17L/s320/CIMG3324.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Our new aparment is cute and quaint. It is much smaller than our first place, but I absolutely love it! We live on the fourth story of an old house on the main street of Tervuren. Below us there are little clothing stores, toy shops, and bakeries that line the street.<br /></div><br /><div>My room is the little loft that overlooks the living room and Gennie's room is right below mine. At night we lay in our beds and chat away because it sounds like we are in the same room. The small kitchen and bathroom are right off of Gennie's room. The only door in the whole place (other than the front door) is for the bathroom. We have been very creative by strategically placing curtains to maximize privacy. </div><br /><div>It is so cozy and warm at night, especially now that it is snowing!<br /></div><div> </div></div></div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-91416297247201541132008-10-24T01:32:00.001-07:002008-11-13T09:11:44.603-08:00Mad Poker SkillsLast night I worked at an espresso bar in Brussels called akaZOE. I have been volunteering there every week because it is run by YWAM, a local non-profit Christian organization. I have fun making a variety of coffee drinks, milkshakes, and other tasty beverages while different musicians and bands play live music on stage.<br /><br />Yesterday we were pretty busy at one point. It is always fun to work when it is chaotic and there is a lot to do. I was working with a girl from Belgium named Helena and some of her friends came for the evening to hang out and play poker. I'm not being modest when I say that I am horrible at poker... but nevertheless I gave it my best effort. I wish that I could say I made my family and friends proud with my impressive poker skills, but sadly that is not one of my gifts.<br /><br />I will say though that it is quite difficult to learn a card game in French and, on top of that, to attempt and play it with skill. I can't even begin to explain how many times I had no idea what was being said, while simultaneously nodding and smiling like I was following the conversation entirely. At this point, I can say with confidence that I have mastered the art of pretending that I know what's going on.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-15127993305210083132008-10-21T09:46:00.001-07:002008-11-13T09:09:43.805-08:00The Fair is in Town!<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqB0dxA-PLhvemV5kxXHziov3NXQqXHUhj2kN2PXRGixkPwoV16X3SlTJ6RR5n2fryLTeOQD_nP6n62UKpT1rnCiv4wAmJ7RUBqUEgXWBtXo3a4VirgRyKV8i3ppCD-Xt2yZVjT_2rocB/s1600-h/CIMG3191.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266711217623640786" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqB0dxA-PLhvemV5kxXHziov3NXQqXHUhj2kN2PXRGixkPwoV16X3SlTJ6RR5n2fryLTeOQD_nP6n62UKpT1rnCiv4wAmJ7RUBqUEgXWBtXo3a4VirgRyKV8i3ppCD-Xt2yZVjT_2rocB/s320/CIMG3191.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>The weather is getting colder here and everyone is bundling up in scarves, coats, and gloves in hopes of staying warm.<br /><br /></div><div>Right now Tervuren is having their twice-yearly fair in the square. A little carnival is set up for a week so that all of the children can enjoy pony rides, cotton candy, sparkling lights, and all of the other delights that a fair offers. Music from the carnival fills the streets.<br /></div><br /><div>I love how all of the children flock to such an event. Joy is not only universal but it is contagious. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-50393646514463418172008-10-20T09:50:00.000-07:002008-11-08T01:02:29.217-08:00A Funny StoryI am at a little espresso bar one night and I get to talking to this 20 year old Canadian guy who has been traveling around the world for about a year now. He is telling me all about his adventures to Australia, New Zealand, Asia, and throughout Europe.<br /><br />We have been talking for a good 20 to 25 minutes and he asks me some questions about what I am doing in Brussels. His next phrase was the kicker. With a tilted head of encouragment he proceeded to tell me that I was doing a great job speaking English to him and that I sounded really natural.<br /><br />I paused. This isn't a rare situation for me to encounter. His automatic assumption upon introduction was that someone with the name Brigitta cannot possibly be a native speaker of English. With names like Jorgen, Peder, Torsten, and Einer in the family it is a fairly typical response that I think we have gotten used to. However, this was the first time that someone still thought that English wasn't my native tongue even after chatting away for 20 minutes.<br /><br />My reply was a simple "thank you. It <em>is</em> my native language so I hope that I speak it well." It gave Gennie and me some significant laughs later that evening when I told her the whole story.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-52833097809235466772008-10-16T08:14:00.000-07:002008-10-29T00:59:11.023-07:00Tervuren<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDploEeHfugzfZZw0JwaGYYchuoHhsl07OKt8cD8S9CO3Mt8nGtdhesSMcwT-cCXwaEb2oOGbFtv-6plIxIEi11kPlqirsJtRagp03QwNYOqi6GnqCqeq099JaCAC24Z1mlUe9HsJKyj-/s1600-h/CIMG3189.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjDploEeHfugzfZZw0JwaGYYchuoHhsl07OKt8cD8S9CO3Mt8nGtdhesSMcwT-cCXwaEb2oOGbFtv-6plIxIEi11kPlqirsJtRagp03QwNYOqi6GnqCqeq099JaCAC24Z1mlUe9HsJKyj-/s320/CIMG3189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262480029144658274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0TIioD-YsuNrFsCibzU9g5WMEpbYmky00PuXl0dxN622HHLCuvWlEi3W8pCb5PA_L_Pu-n-9oUdphH1dfxRZ0Oyeue7ywcpfdOzgHjMKYPXebeTe6fikEBchCgvYQN1LVNVTyO6SRzwB/s1600-h/CIMG3190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0TIioD-YsuNrFsCibzU9g5WMEpbYmky00PuXl0dxN622HHLCuvWlEi3W8pCb5PA_L_Pu-n-9oUdphH1dfxRZ0Oyeue7ywcpfdOzgHjMKYPXebeTe6fikEBchCgvYQN1LVNVTyO6SRzwB/s320/CIMG3190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262480025932944738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCD8qvHQi0lxbBY_F3riN9y_SWOVBrZryaXLaeh9QvgI8MLSVyncenwjO1MOr5N3GZw1-zbsKq7cVdcxASZnYI3Qkutufxn5dDPUJVidB6Nq2epN929e_kR4zaKohaErP76cqEkXEkZw3N/s1600-h/CIMG3188.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCD8qvHQi0lxbBY_F3riN9y_SWOVBrZryaXLaeh9QvgI8MLSVyncenwjO1MOr5N3GZw1-zbsKq7cVdcxASZnYI3Qkutufxn5dDPUJVidB6Nq2epN929e_kR4zaKohaErP76cqEkXEkZw3N/s320/CIMG3188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262480024720946354" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Tervuren is a beautiful little town in the Flemish countryside. Gennie and I moved here at the beginning of October because it is a lot closer to her school. Every Friday morning there is a market in the square and the town is filled with the noise and hubbub of people doing their weekly shopping. Almost everything is closed on Sundays and Mondays.<br /><br />Probably my favorite part of Tervuren is the park. It truly feels like I'm walking in a different time. there is a long line of lakes surrounded by forest. Each morning I try and take Percy for a walk or run around the lakes. Rain or shine there is a group of devoted old men from the village sitting together with fishing poles in hand. Of all the times I have gone past them only once have I seen someone actually catch anything. It ended up being a five minute fiasco of slowly and gently pulling the fish out of the water and finally capturing it into the net. The man looked at his friends for congratulations and proceeded to throw the large fish back into the water. Maybe this particular fish wasn't good for eating, or maybe catch and release fishing is his tactic. Either way, I liked that he threw the fish back in.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-31387410516915981152008-10-15T02:52:00.001-07:002008-10-28T15:24:44.151-07:00London!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeo2kVRceBO0tTD6PAhkEm1PxBOqOu_M38aazTat5W1jc3gmvv23euuRR3wRqSbjKyWc4_oGs46Qfp3B1q_0kj2d0m4pWcslDAh_eBlVdQCOLhi4BUfdXtMJsWu-fCXRfQ_5IXft69JiE/s1600-h/CIMG3182.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeo2kVRceBO0tTD6PAhkEm1PxBOqOu_M38aazTat5W1jc3gmvv23euuRR3wRqSbjKyWc4_oGs46Qfp3B1q_0kj2d0m4pWcslDAh_eBlVdQCOLhi4BUfdXtMJsWu-fCXRfQ_5IXft69JiE/s320/CIMG3182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262334242088201058" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9j-iys2ygVQexFF10dr79madYqAb8zSaGVPsa0EwlOjZa-pkpjjPJ15C-YTAOZJivgsTA2uuDqwnZDsGH3bAeq64B64YJxavUuKfTzLBiY9xHgHZvU5enk2XP38ovCSNcHQIA49Xm3t0u/s1600-h/CIMG3175.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259954303219437714" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9j-iys2ygVQexFF10dr79madYqAb8zSaGVPsa0EwlOjZa-pkpjjPJ15C-YTAOZJivgsTA2uuDqwnZDsGH3bAeq64B64YJxavUuKfTzLBiY9xHgHZvU5enk2XP38ovCSNcHQIA49Xm3t0u/s320/CIMG3175.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcSTsiabJxWA1BWjCBUlsNJsHrBaLU7zZtkUkil887UqU8k7I5nkbZFcw6umzO5xhCF9AARqdmvzO8xhDUD-8QylluYjXPUGaSZcyH3zdZUdLGRlXF7lvFVgIRUAMd4m4vqdwmSLczGRlp/s1600-h/CIMG3173.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259954310074805602" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcSTsiabJxWA1BWjCBUlsNJsHrBaLU7zZtkUkil887UqU8k7I5nkbZFcw6umzO5xhCF9AARqdmvzO8xhDUD-8QylluYjXPUGaSZcyH3zdZUdLGRlXF7lvFVgIRUAMd4m4vqdwmSLczGRlp/s320/CIMG3173.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQlc8I3idTrLvKUK3dQtlM2oRKkv-duXQHc3nfUEpgKV_JZ9h8j1iGTWdwQkXU_MBf5WIYPgs6VF1fOPL7tFtsTydDjrJm-ssYoJV3Q81LlhgzpbjKbcgAXlNE674t-s_I13zynVQ5Xp1/s1600-h/CIMG3174.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259954314627485698" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiQlc8I3idTrLvKUK3dQtlM2oRKkv-duXQHc3nfUEpgKV_JZ9h8j1iGTWdwQkXU_MBf5WIYPgs6VF1fOPL7tFtsTydDjrJm-ssYoJV3Q81LlhgzpbjKbcgAXlNE674t-s_I13zynVQ5Xp1/s320/CIMG3174.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIpjD1dfKlxokktzjvzf1QPHhIDAGBGJBAypSUgTNLl5ry4gil-JviL4mA7yA8iFeDVRfF73oGVxrMSvWRyDizCqQuipXdPzN-nBtnTJvSCHIuZQ0bJSDUz-tZ7oeBCpAUdEhoFCiS6CO/s1600-h/CIMG3183.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259954324577610818" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIpjD1dfKlxokktzjvzf1QPHhIDAGBGJBAypSUgTNLl5ry4gil-JviL4mA7yA8iFeDVRfF73oGVxrMSvWRyDizCqQuipXdPzN-nBtnTJvSCHIuZQ0bJSDUz-tZ7oeBCpAUdEhoFCiS6CO/s320/CIMG3183.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>I </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>London was a perfect break from Belgium. Not only did I get to spend time with a friend from home, but I spent time with Gennie's family, and got to freely speak English! What more can you ask for?<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>I traveled to London on Friday night and had a delicious salmon dinner awaiting me. Gennie spent the weekend visiting her dad in France so Friday night Suzie, Stephen, Max, and I crammed onto the couch in their home in Islington and watched an authentic British late night show (something like the equivalent of Jay Leno).<br /></div><br /><div>The weather was sunny and clear on Saturday morning and the four of us went for a nice run at the local park. We enjoyed a lazy morning together before Suzie dropped me off for a visit with Megan, a childhood friend studying in London. The two of us had a fun day walking around Hyde Park, exploring the city, and attempting to buy day-of tickets to Les Misérables (unfortunately without success). Everyone was out in the beautiful sunny weather and we became mesmerized by a group of roller skaters who were dancing to music. We then met Megan's friend from Ireland and we had a delicious meal at a local Indian restaurant. </div><br /><div>I should probably note here that throughout Saturday I gradually lost my voice... entirely. I initially blamed it on London's horrific pollution, but then a sore throat hit Monday night dismissing that theory. Needless to say, Sunday morning I woke up with my communication severely compromised. Normally, the inability to speak may have been a slight challenge- but not altogether debilitating. However, on this particular Sunday I had plans of participating in my first English brunch with Gennie's family. Gennie's immediate family would have been one thing, but the entire clan of five cousins and an aunt and uncle were included. Fortunately, the family was gracious and we did the best we could to communicate with my awkward hand gestures and unpleasant whispers.<br /><br /></div><div>Monday morning out of pure necessity I took a jaunt to the local pharmacy. After attempting to ask for cough drops the lady behind the counter said with wide eyes, "oh no, you need this."She held up a small red box with the word VOCALZONE written in bold white letters. Whatever this disgusting little throat lozenger was, it worked. It dissolved in the back of my throat for a good 20 minutes as I followed the directions to inhale deeply throughout the process. Thankfully, I had a hoarse voice by the end of the therapy, and I was ready to jump on the tube and spend one more day with Megan exploring London.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div> </div><div>We had a great time wandering throughout the British Museum. We saw the Rosetta Stone and other famous sculptures and pieces of artwork. We then went to the British Library where we saw an incredible exhibit that included the Magna Carta, some of Shakespeare's and Jane Austin's original writings, the piece of paper that the lyrics to <em>Yesterday</em> was scribbled on by Paul McCartney himself, and many other presevered documents for the public to admire. By then it was time for me to say goodbye to London and hop on the 2 hour train to go back to Belgium. It was a wonderful weekend!<br /></div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-14240548718993408772008-10-09T01:30:00.000-07:002008-10-22T05:24:49.727-07:00Crazy Moving Weekend!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjY2QGDddoLeewjwnBzjepJMeil-Cx11jHpel7UEYyBI6Cuq49G4pna_X4ic6fQZ1QukcogIy6gsJSDtIWMOVucwu6ZrgYwHZ9g4lwd2SByd4kVBw_262UBdGnurD0hW8qxrA6cYIsvAF/s1600-h/CIMG3169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259953147583838898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjY2QGDddoLeewjwnBzjepJMeil-Cx11jHpel7UEYyBI6Cuq49G4pna_X4ic6fQZ1QukcogIy6gsJSDtIWMOVucwu6ZrgYwHZ9g4lwd2SByd4kVBw_262UBdGnurD0hW8qxrA6cYIsvAF/s320/CIMG3169.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The calm before the storm.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Thursday Night</em>:</div><br /><div>Stephen, Suzie, and Max have just gotten in on the evening train from London and we all sit down for a nice relaxing sphagetti dinner. Wonderful food, good conversation, and discussion about moving logistics. Plans of how the five of us are going to accomplish moving everything from the large apartment in Brussels to our new little apartment in Tervuren (25 minutes outside the city). It sounded simple enough.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Friday</em>:</div><br /><div>Early start as we organize years of possessions into four piles: </div><br /><div>1) Garbage</div><br /><div>2) Charity</div><br /><div>3) New apartment</div><br /><div>4) Going back to London</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We have an enourmous rented truck for hauling. Sheer chaos ensues as we confront tendencies of reminiscing, hoarding, and fatigue. We push on into the afternoon and Stephen and Max take the first gigantic load of clothes, furniture, and books to Le Petit Rien- literal translation = The Little Nothing (the local second-hand store). It is now late afternoon and we take a much-needed lunch break at the little pasta restaurant downstairs. We then begin filling the truck for the second time full of items going to the new apartment that Gennie and I are moving into. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Our new place is cute, charming, and just the perfect size for the two of us... but the steep, narrow, stereotypical European staircase up to the fourth floor is not the ideal setting for making dozens of trips with heavy furniture up and down on moving day.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Before long we are all sweating as we squeeze by one another in the miniscule stairwell. Hours later the five of us sit, exhausted at the local Italian restaurant in Tervuren. We are already preparing for the chaos that is awaiting us on Saturday morning.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Saturday</em>:</div><br /><div>A bit of a slower start, but before long we are cleaning the attic in the old apartment in Brussels that is crammed full with years of odds and ends. Long story short- and extremely physically-demanding experience. Lunch. Tea with landlords (a delightful couple who live below us and run their Osteopathic Practice on the bottom floor). We finish the day with organizing and unpacking the new apartment before we grab dinner and fall into bed.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>Sunday</em>:</div><br /><div>Stephen, Suzie, and Max go back to London and moving weekend has officially come to an end. All in all our time was filled with laughter, sweat, several breakdowns, and many unforgettably memorable stories. </div>Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-9110103699779930192008-09-28T05:25:00.001-07:002008-09-28T07:06:29.219-07:00Amsterdam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJM0fyITydzB6Y_OalAbRFhDwil7Fvubg7_H7Fzq7o-FE1FzrlrT6JL7ke5UH3_bNNJs120xnNSYVDvBvjnFrzj7Q7zH_Cu_4tF70ez21R22Qyq_RUQ2fwoDyRXAaG_W2X0muOUWWnG2ki/s1600-h/CIMG3147.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJM0fyITydzB6Y_OalAbRFhDwil7Fvubg7_H7Fzq7o-FE1FzrlrT6JL7ke5UH3_bNNJs120xnNSYVDvBvjnFrzj7Q7zH_Cu_4tF70ez21R22Qyq_RUQ2fwoDyRXAaG_W2X0muOUWWnG2ki/s320/CIMG3147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251071830000921570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGxxWxCod0TuW0Rq3UBhrhcqHTEF-0K_4y1lgNC4bWuwrItVOopAluMu7IVjazqFV5kFTjMvKNlcJiGzT7fmflQ8ehWrTDqq45FSzMHbYEEQsggb3QBwefWgcTAQjc8X58WYBhV07ZUux/s1600-h/CIMG3150.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGxxWxCod0TuW0Rq3UBhrhcqHTEF-0K_4y1lgNC4bWuwrItVOopAluMu7IVjazqFV5kFTjMvKNlcJiGzT7fmflQ8ehWrTDqq45FSzMHbYEEQsggb3QBwefWgcTAQjc8X58WYBhV07ZUux/s320/CIMG3150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251071841660036130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnF016dh-YyBU61scRykJm8uXvNVBCVS4aJkNQHi2yQY8-4c5VwNZlCIM7x39J13QwrhXiINk2mDHFpDs59L6U1PIvQb-f2EEFeQ7QZVhezfr5sb84Qzg21nXzFTGWuORaR6QnuLUZaPMc/s1600-h/CIMG3158.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnF016dh-YyBU61scRykJm8uXvNVBCVS4aJkNQHi2yQY8-4c5VwNZlCIM7x39J13QwrhXiINk2mDHFpDs59L6U1PIvQb-f2EEFeQ7QZVhezfr5sb84Qzg21nXzFTGWuORaR6QnuLUZaPMc/s320/CIMG3158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251071840551919362" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhYjPaS-QKo427sPZxPuT-OH6aafv5G2gxVopdh1tPe7bxYZ89SVGF9oGQZWlSeNVwIybud_VQwC1qBmlRR8hw9jKGIb8nAnZ_YWaKmTzQw65fxum17mkJCYcR8nbt5pDxzwi-Z8qsiPr/s1600-h/CIMG3157.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhYjPaS-QKo427sPZxPuT-OH6aafv5G2gxVopdh1tPe7bxYZ89SVGF9oGQZWlSeNVwIybud_VQwC1qBmlRR8hw9jKGIb8nAnZ_YWaKmTzQw65fxum17mkJCYcR8nbt5pDxzwi-Z8qsiPr/s320/CIMG3157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251071845300107618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ8JCBNwVHJJcYqP4iPbGZuGCWsmVrX30htUnI8_TNyeso31EVVqfTisnQX2m6LbKTVag47hMBMuy50djprE0i9X2_3eIVL45OieWaiLC82pdy6fEeMGqN2oRb-oEk_nUszko-T-RQlOVJ/s1600-h/CIMG3163.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ8JCBNwVHJJcYqP4iPbGZuGCWsmVrX30htUnI8_TNyeso31EVVqfTisnQX2m6LbKTVag47hMBMuy50djprE0i9X2_3eIVL45OieWaiLC82pdy6fEeMGqN2oRb-oEk_nUszko-T-RQlOVJ/s320/CIMG3163.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251071851053207602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Yesterday, Gennie and I planned a day trip to Amsterdam. We left at 5:30 in the morning and took a three hour train ride up to Amsterdam so we could spend the entire day enjoying the city. As soon as we arrived we went to the tourist information center and purchased a map that took us on a four hour, self-guided walking tour of Amsterdam- explanations of everything we were seeing included! Because of the sunny weather, it was the perfect way to see this city for someone on a budget.<br /><br />I guess I didn't have many expectations for the Netherlands before going and so was completely taken off guard by its beauty. The train ride through the countryside was lovely as the sun rose over the foggy fields. Once there, hundreds of bikes lined every canal. Small children, still to young to walk, were strapped to the front and backs of bikes as parents flew in and around traffic on the cobblestone streets, ringing their bells to make their presence known. At one point when Gennie and I were looking around, obviously lost, a woman stopped her bike and asked us if she could help us find where we wanted to go. Later, like conspicuous tourists, we held our map up as we searched for a particular street name. We were quickly approached by a nice man who directed us to the right place. Pictures do not do this city justice!<br /><br />We bought lunch at a little shop tucked away on a street and ate our warm mozzarella, tomato, pesto, and onion grilled paninis with our feet dangling off an idyllic canal. We passed through the main square, saw a big memorial statue of the famous Dutch artist Rembrandt, got to see the Homosexual Memorial, and saw countless churches and sculptures that give Amsterdam its character.<br /><br />The finale to our day was the Anne Frank Museum. We toured her house and saw where she and seven others hid from the Nazis in World War II. It was incredibly humbling to be able to walk where people lived their lives in hiding for almost two years in constant fear of of what the Nazis would do to them. Anne wrote in her diary that sometimes they would peak outside their window and see the Germans loading up Jews while they sat silently for hours in their concealed and crowded haven.<br /><br />This girl, in the midst of intense hatred and oppression, had the compassion to write "I keep my ideals, because in spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart."<br /><br />This experience was challenging, yet an uplifting way to end a spectacular day.<br /><br />Exhausted, Gennie and I boarded our train home. We snacked on fruit and smoothies as we rested our sore feet... laughing and remembering our delightfully unforgettable day. We arrived back in Brussels around midnight and crawled into our inviting beds as quickly as possible.<br /><br />What a blessing to have a place to come home to!Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-8145978760559297182008-09-24T07:44:00.000-07:002008-09-28T12:39:49.283-07:00The Market<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50hJox8-oWJsT7GbycoXzcFoBvn-LZhkgTykUuxL516bniqjdAHexXMbT-f1JiM1GRamZLtGbO_rJWZS18ShfLbkEpKH7NzAh6A8JJD9kbDKcyj8Y3nAiJ-5Q9l0JuIIEjI-Z5jnSTIDT/s1600-h/CIMG3142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50hJox8-oWJsT7GbycoXzcFoBvn-LZhkgTykUuxL516bniqjdAHexXMbT-f1JiM1GRamZLtGbO_rJWZS18ShfLbkEpKH7NzAh6A8JJD9kbDKcyj8Y3nAiJ-5Q9l0JuIIEjI-Z5jnSTIDT/s320/CIMG3142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251151691075845058" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghlpFLwydAsh9mH4iILmYdlaOP54HZTJ3-rr9Zxb5qkR4tivN1I0JWukW_MeMwwP8h2lP80XO1k_oPhNHmyT0Wk_URxJ7ByuJtbZPoZKnn7u9x56wLYTK6t27qIRKwjya4wJZ5NPsjDMg6/s1600-h/CIMG3141.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghlpFLwydAsh9mH4iILmYdlaOP54HZTJ3-rr9Zxb5qkR4tivN1I0JWukW_MeMwwP8h2lP80XO1k_oPhNHmyT0Wk_URxJ7ByuJtbZPoZKnn7u9x56wLYTK6t27qIRKwjya4wJZ5NPsjDMg6/s320/CIMG3141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251151697942483906" border="0" /></a><br />I awkwardly attempt to calculate what 2.50 euro/kg means as I frantically pull out my middle school math skills. Somehow, my shopping experiences are extremely humbling adventures as I realize that I have to relearn everything I know to coexist with the locals.<br /><br />Each Wednesday afternoon a vibrant market is held in the Chatelaine Square, right off of Avenue Louise in Brussels. Vendors set out luscious produce and delicacies that they have been preparing for the past week.<br /><br />Despite it being a health inspector's nightmare, this market is one of the most authentic experiences in the city. Little old men gather as they do their weekly shopping to buy their favorite cuts of meat from the butcher while their wives pick out fresh fruits and vegetables. Mothers and children make their rounds, picking out special treats and gorgeous breads from the bakeries.<br /><br />Even though the unspoken rules and expectations that exist in other cultures can be overwhelming at times, it is quite refreshing to witness the lovely display of community and camaraderie... not to mention, how the exquisite arrangements of oranges, reds, greens, and yellows brighten the day.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-32682333465848773162008-09-21T23:44:00.001-07:002008-09-28T11:43:17.027-07:00Carless Sunday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruZ6nw-QVeq9cB5Dksi1MUSNiMCspOvavlOWwWtZ0AwF0-SzBu1tiA5iyR4dFcY4puQO4lbU7X1A-ghM3dRt-IV_ocz15h8iqehcDuU-aLWMPqulPpX3aaj01JlO_OYemu3zXRTyeJoA7/s1600-h/P9270018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgruZ6nw-QVeq9cB5Dksi1MUSNiMCspOvavlOWwWtZ0AwF0-SzBu1tiA5iyR4dFcY4puQO4lbU7X1A-ghM3dRt-IV_ocz15h8iqehcDuU-aLWMPqulPpX3aaj01JlO_OYemu3zXRTyeJoA7/s320/P9270018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251144578491522498" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday was Carless Sunday in Brussels. I began hearing announcements about this special day about two weeks ago and it immediately piqued my interest. If this meant what it sounded like, I wanted to know how a big city was going to pull this off.<br /><br />Carless Sunday is exactly what it sounds like. Several times a year Belgium issues out a decree saying that a particular day is to remain carless. Everyone is required to use public transport, walk, or bike wherever they want or need to go.<br /><br />With the exception of police, emergency vehicles, and a few taxis, it seemed that everyone cooperated in this day to reduce fuel consumption and reflect on a world with fewer cars. Bikers by the dozens flooded the streets. Free public transportation was available to all. It was like a miniature utopia. For one day the streets were dramatically more peaceful and inviting to the pedestrian... not to mention much safer.<br /><br />The typical European driver is in a league of his own. Cars the size of small sofas recklessly weave in and out of alleys, entirely unaware of the innocent bystanders. Ironically, it is extremely difficult to get a driver's license in Belgium. It costs thousands of euros to even get into classes, insurance is ridiculously expensive, and it is a requirement to be over 18 years old to get a license. Buying a vehicle is the cheapest part of the whole process.<br /><br />Although, maybe these ridiculous expenses are an incredibly round-about way to go back to why I began writing this blog entry in the first place. The stringent process of attaining a driver's license may be to reduce the amount of cars on the road.<br /><br />I don't know... just a theory!Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-47133763914655215032008-09-19T08:10:00.001-07:002008-09-21T23:43:58.264-07:00Political ClimateAfter living in Belgium for almost 3 weeks now, I have a little better understanding of Belgian Politics. The country is bordered by the Netherlands, Germany, Luxembourg, and France. Brussels, the capital of Belgium, houses the head of the European Commission as well as NATO headquarters and is also considered to be "the capital of Europe."<br /><br />Because of Belgium's central location, it has a variety of cultures that have influenced its identity over the past centuries.<br /><br />Recently, Belgium has experienced upheaval and some significant drama among the different ethnic regions. The northern part of Belgium is a Dutch-speaking region called Flanders. To the south lies Wallonia where everyone speaks French and finally in the eastern part of Belgium is a very small area where German is the predominant language.<br /><br />Belgium got its Germanic influences when in AD 300 Attila the Hun invaded Germany, forcing some Germanic tribes into the eastern-most part of Belgium. Belgium was then invaded by Germans a century later giving current day Belgium its Germanic roots. In the late 18th century Napolean's army took control of Belgium, but after Napolean's final defeat at Waterloo, Belgium came under Dutch rule. Finally, in 1831 the Belgian people gained their independence from the Netherlands and established a constitutional monarchy.<br /><br />I had no idea before I got here how divided this small country was. Gennie warned me from the beginning that whenever I go outside of Brussels into the Dutch speaking areas it is like a slap in the face to speak French. Instead, I was given the advice to speak in English.<br /><br />Unfortunately, this rivalry does not merely affect what language a foreigner should use during an occasional outing. Instead, Belgium's entire political system has been afflicted by the long-felt tension amongst the different regions that make up the country.<br /><br />In a nutshell: Dutch speakers vs. French speakers.<br /><br />Currently, King Albert II is head of state. Yves Leterme is the Prime Minister, however, there have been huge disagreements between the French and Dutch speakers about who gets more autonomy and power. This feud has led to a lack of leadership, no Prime Minister, and ultimately the collapse of the government for over nine months before Yves Leterme was sworn into office. These disagreements have caused utter chaos in Belgian politics and still continue to threaten the security of their government.<br /><br />Gennie, laughing as she explained the current state of affairs in Belgium's political realm, said "England would undoubtedly freak out if there were no Prime Minister. The British people literally would not know what to do. Belgians just don't care. They were absolutely content without any structure."Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-9895147209566477242008-09-15T04:18:00.000-07:002008-09-16T02:26:36.019-07:00Why not Mix Sightseeing with Business?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKc42WUrB8tB_4-VZifprgMusQlEKv04pDaoY96v-tRS_fk6FVi6qW6OMFYukDaS2__kjNMBYnEPLEzL7fKT2T466961U9XvbEKWgPajb2hFedjQgBG9ZieSHODqWHSVgt2ah8pOkofwEk/s1600-h/CIMG3119.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKc42WUrB8tB_4-VZifprgMusQlEKv04pDaoY96v-tRS_fk6FVi6qW6OMFYukDaS2__kjNMBYnEPLEzL7fKT2T466961U9XvbEKWgPajb2hFedjQgBG9ZieSHODqWHSVgt2ah8pOkofwEk/s320/CIMG3119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246227045450481346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKwWt-IAJerigr6nVi7vsU5ku2z-FLcYPyowxZoibMvpZiaYCriq19MdxL9ueZle4wnCe5H73s5xcpGoz3lVAbr2OEeYyOTuaSgfyPh775osAX5zh-OZxPYVarEITeO13Ei4Uzao_g-VO/s1600-h/CIMG3123.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKwWt-IAJerigr6nVi7vsU5ku2z-FLcYPyowxZoibMvpZiaYCriq19MdxL9ueZle4wnCe5H73s5xcpGoz3lVAbr2OEeYyOTuaSgfyPh775osAX5zh-OZxPYVarEITeO13Ei4Uzao_g-VO/s320/CIMG3123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246227048964097458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkXmofej8oJfXs6C5puO28tgA-yQhY2IJp42PCOP8xDQOe4CyXhV5b92nE5gXlVMEvLayVEQiI2U9H66go2w94gJ2GfJAPGU1Cn0buAEiMJFRSlYlclEIbv45uVA-_EZPPnY5j6jYs8oF/s1600-h/CIMG3125.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkXmofej8oJfXs6C5puO28tgA-yQhY2IJp42PCOP8xDQOe4CyXhV5b92nE5gXlVMEvLayVEQiI2U9H66go2w94gJ2GfJAPGU1Cn0buAEiMJFRSlYlclEIbv45uVA-_EZPPnY5j6jYs8oF/s320/CIMG3125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246227053969153010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9G0Zo5Cb_cgjPg6euWUJh23d5CS8lhFYoJJGfEh43Ux3i5QMormJZjlKiSdPySDfRBclMS74sK5XphuWZjphA7DQ_ta_PSCcBrBF043xmZlzZWIt7NWMSG3_K7UmexYDtAl6qHr1xwCV7/s1600-h/CIMG3128.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9G0Zo5Cb_cgjPg6euWUJh23d5CS8lhFYoJJGfEh43Ux3i5QMormJZjlKiSdPySDfRBclMS74sK5XphuWZjphA7DQ_ta_PSCcBrBF043xmZlzZWIt7NWMSG3_K7UmexYDtAl6qHr1xwCV7/s320/CIMG3128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246227058065652258" border="0" /></a><br />I woke up this morning with one goal - to get a visa. It seems simple, however, the rules, regulations, and loopholes that a government can create are altogether overwhelming.<br /><br />There is something called the Schengen agreement. This set of laws was created as a way to control borders throughout Europe. Almost all European countries participate in the Schengen agreement; the United Kingdom, Ireland, and Switzerland are just several countries among the handful that do not.<br /><br />As a citizen of the United States, I can travel throughout the Schengen countries without a visa for up to 90 days within a sixth month period. After my 90 days have passed, I am illegal in most of Europe. Clearly, this morning's endeavor was of great importance.<br /><br />My first stop was the Belgian embassy: Rue de la Loi 61-63. How hard could it be? After I got off of the metro I looked at the long road that was clearly marked Rue de la Loi. This was a good sign. My next hurdle was finding building 61-63. You would think that an address would be in chronological order down the street. After asking two people where I might find this address, without success, I finally asked a businessman if he might possibly know what direction I should go. This delightful man took me under his wing and brought me to an official looking building with flags and banners hanging everywhere. He told me he was from Greece and that it was essential to visit his country while in Europe. Unfortunately, when he found out that I was in search of visa information he apologetically told me that this in fact was not the right building and that I must walk to the end of Rue de la Loi to where another Belgian government building was located. We said our goodbyes and off we went in our different directions.<br /><br />I quickly located the correct building. After talking to a nice Belgian woman, she scribbled some street names and numbers on a small piece of paper and said that I must go to this address to inquire about visas.<br /><br />Two metro stops later I found myself at Gare Central. I went up to the information desk and asked in French where I might find this address. In a slur of French the old man behind the counter explained my next set of instructions. All I caught was "Bus 71, two stops and there it will be."<br /><br />Okay. By now I am feeling like I am on a wild goose chase. I have been searching for the Belgian consulate for 2 hours now. If I hadn't been reinforced with kindness throughout my journey I may have given up long ago. On I persevered.<br /><br />At this point I think, I might as well enjoy the scenery on this self-guided tour of Brussels. So I jumped on Bus 71 and in two stops I found myself staring at the Royal Family's Palace. This is a picturesque detour. I decide to walk around the Royal Gardens and enjoy the beauty of the day. Then a serendipitous sign catches my eye. Brussels Information Center. This is like music to my ears. Thankfully, a nice girl pulls out a map and highlights the exact route I am to take. Within several minutes I am on the right street. I walk faster with anticipation.<br /><br />I then go into a big building, Belgian flags flying proudly in the cool breeze. Two women direct me to a telephone and I chat to someone about my hopes of getting a visa.<br /><br />After a long morning of searching throughout the streets of Belgium to inquire about a visa, my hopes are shattered as I am told that there is absolutely no way to get a visa unless I am in my home country. I have to apply in the United States and if I am lucky, there may be a small chance that I can get a visa to stay longer than the alloted 90 days.<br /><br />While out and about in Brussels I managed to take several pictures. They are in order of my adventure, beginning with the back of the palace, a sculpture in the Palace gardens, the front of the palace, and finally the Belgain Consulate.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-5659272119238155102008-09-13T00:51:00.000-07:002008-09-28T12:41:19.198-07:00GeneralizationsIt is human nature to categorize, generalize, and put others and themselves into groups. I think that this is one of the greatest downfalls of human nature, yet we are all guilty of it. History has shown that horrific things can happen when we take a group of people and say "you're different."<br /><br />One German girl told me last night, "America. I grew up loving America. But for the last eight years or so, not so much." Blunt and a bit hurtful, but I understand where she is coming from. She had nothing against me, but 'America' in general was what she didn't like. She was also the one who said that she "didn't like the English, even if they have good accents. They aren't very nice and have bad food." So I guess you can't take everything someone says to heart.<br /><br />A Danish girl I met was shocked when she asked if I had studied any other languages besides English and I told her that I have studied French and Spanish. She said that she was under the impression that Americans never studied any other language because they thought that English was good enough.<br /><br />On the other hand, my impression of many Europeans that I have met is that they drink and smoke... a lot. Then I remind myself that you can't generalize a whole country, let alone an entire continent. Isn't that what I would want others to remember when they find out that I am an American?<br /><br />The last thing that I would ever want to do is knowingly group an entire people into one category. For the past two weeks I have been asked "are American high schools like American Pie or High School Musical (because clearly they are one or the other)?" or "are all American girls cheerleaders?" It is so funny what kinds of assumptions we make based off of media and a single encounter. It's like asking someone from England, "do all British people drink tea?"<br /><br />What I have decided is that a Saudi Arabian, Belgian, South African, Korean, American, and Englishman can all sit down together and share in the delight of a good cup of tea. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what nation a person comes from because each person is unique despite what worldly label, attribute, or identity we may give them.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-29324041456789501312008-09-12T09:51:00.000-07:002008-09-13T09:28:39.981-07:00Obama or McCain?Before I left, I was talking with my sister-in-law, Cori, and we were wondering if many Europeans were closely following the upcoming elections. Within the first day I flew into London the answer to our question was quite apparent.<br /><br />People-watching is my forte. Wherever I go boredom never entices me, as I am usually enjoying the oddities, behaviors, and differences in those around me. I try to make this a subtle endeavor because it is a rare person who accepts staring with open arms.<br /><br />As I rode down the tube in London after I landed in Heathrow, I did my usual glance around to see if there was anything particularly amusing to witness. Surprisingly, the thing that stood out the most was the handful of people reading articles about the political happenings of the U.S. This immediately intrigued me. First of all, I needed to report back to Cori. Secondly, how important are the elections to the rest of the world?<br /><br />After being here for two weeks, I have begun to realize the extent to which people are interested in American politics. Not only are Obama and McCain on almost every newspaper, but I can't even begin to tell you how many people have asked me "Obama or McCain?"<br /><br />When I was meeting several of Gennie's school friends for the first time, the Obama or McCain question was one of the first things that I was asked. Another friend quickly hit the curious asker and with a proper British accent told her that in America "it was quite rude to ask such a personal question."<br /><br />Regardless of anyone's feelings on the November elections, I am very surprised on how adamantly everyone who has spoken to me about American politics feels about the candidates. Without a doubt, Obama is the fan favorite.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-64811605207863514782008-09-08T00:01:00.001-07:002008-09-09T00:41:23.005-07:00L'Abbey de la Cambre<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPpD44x1aIuMRcaG4Zaz7KGaZyBro216ERdG1qxiteiZd6iPjBcrv6iNx7xAp9fUplfeTT6motTeG6FZwQKC4tIqe6LgENHJRcnFp0BG1rjP-nJ7k4HjATcGizj7HPfe-782sRIcA7QK2/s1600-h/CIMG3100.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPpD44x1aIuMRcaG4Zaz7KGaZyBro216ERdG1qxiteiZd6iPjBcrv6iNx7xAp9fUplfeTT6motTeG6FZwQKC4tIqe6LgENHJRcnFp0BG1rjP-nJ7k4HjATcGizj7HPfe-782sRIcA7QK2/s320/CIMG3100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243922078792590562" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBa4ZyZacFW2vSXjeneN07I72D0gfDQ36DUBA9x_F0sIJR12iI8CTCA3vmbnfM3lYI4AfKt7bk7aOWIgDi56UtJ88dzwGyEXoFB5dADKkb30g3SOhOqv4B6-et71ZZyo4Uxk33SzqOlGb/s1600-h/CIMG3106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBa4ZyZacFW2vSXjeneN07I72D0gfDQ36DUBA9x_F0sIJR12iI8CTCA3vmbnfM3lYI4AfKt7bk7aOWIgDi56UtJ88dzwGyEXoFB5dADKkb30g3SOhOqv4B6-et71ZZyo4Uxk33SzqOlGb/s320/CIMG3106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243922080977609666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwwPHGcAdFXLWRMvXs7y2yKx_GcNqlwm8oZMW0kk9_2F5oRkjhN1FoR4DbMoZTuanMzPu_E0k9nhVprXzxcfeVu4lFXmQUb0knrbeUNB67Pfu1N-XkWzLXYAsdjBedmcK4tAZ875ieKea/s1600-h/CIMG3107.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwwPHGcAdFXLWRMvXs7y2yKx_GcNqlwm8oZMW0kk9_2F5oRkjhN1FoR4DbMoZTuanMzPu_E0k9nhVprXzxcfeVu4lFXmQUb0knrbeUNB67Pfu1N-XkWzLXYAsdjBedmcK4tAZ875ieKea/s320/CIMG3107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243922082921063570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JantY94CzjcR4n-syolloMAL-cvddscxPYyrv6WQU2cwg1WO3YAzRBPuj31KBIwRynlcMrKMq3q2DyFpVDnISRRWgDaAl2T-mlCAmmlOQpz-gGLDhE5IXsWv4Fx8mVhxb2yfz2K-HQUY/s1600-h/CIMG3098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JantY94CzjcR4n-syolloMAL-cvddscxPYyrv6WQU2cwg1WO3YAzRBPuj31KBIwRynlcMrKMq3q2DyFpVDnISRRWgDaAl2T-mlCAmmlOQpz-gGLDhE5IXsWv4Fx8mVhxb2yfz2K-HQUY/s320/CIMG3098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243922087861455378" border="0" /></a><br />As I mentioned before, there is a stunning Abbey directly across the street from our apartment. It is beautifully situated in the middle of the city as a little oasis amongst all of the cars, people, and noise. Church bells ring upon the hour as people go about their day-to-day activities. The Abbey was originally built in the 13th century as a Cistercian sanctuary where Catholic monks lived. It was later rebuilt in the 18th century after many of the buildings were destroyed by various wars. The Abbey is now a visual arts college.<br /><br />Another wonderful aspect of living in Ixelles (the district in which my apartment lies) is the Belgian version of Greenlake that sits down the street from me. There are two lakes right next to the Abbey that are surrounded by a small dirt path for those who want to take a leisurely stroll with their dog or even a quick run when they are feeling particularly motivated. Trees line the water and men and women sprawl out on the green grass that surrounds the lakes.<br /><br />Yesterday, with Percy in one hand and my book in the other, I set out to do some reading on the grass next to the Abbey. For the past several days the weather has been magnificent and I have enjoyed the sun streaming into my window, waking me in the most radiant and ideal way.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-85258043696273107452008-09-04T00:56:00.000-07:002008-09-07T13:55:35.905-07:00The Beauty of Living in Another Country<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBVAUqMYDQcOgthiGhVOzDARgP51leCe7bgrznHSr0JdGyr-cw0B291Uzf4HEUUkszrLTQccGeQ6Zqxja_o2uVYgt0zQD0LqEW84LF2oZ5y7qoBYGwd9OJp5uBD3lLnXxzgEFOM9kGEhz/s1600-h/CIMG3075.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBVAUqMYDQcOgthiGhVOzDARgP51leCe7bgrznHSr0JdGyr-cw0B291Uzf4HEUUkszrLTQccGeQ6Zqxja_o2uVYgt0zQD0LqEW84LF2oZ5y7qoBYGwd9OJp5uBD3lLnXxzgEFOM9kGEhz/s320/CIMG3075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243385927227176610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXhPWqcvVVgAXoGPki1mFAC_hMFMuL-aqca64xDtKkTfRHGLi-C-YSlOoooWj0zynv0FzY9bpWfkz0x4VfzSNbn5HpoYB8bwhYqUj9weuolmjtmWB43ym0iiwXUbO9lK-bcTHlBlsOBYf/s1600-h/IMG_1950.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXhPWqcvVVgAXoGPki1mFAC_hMFMuL-aqca64xDtKkTfRHGLi-C-YSlOoooWj0zynv0FzY9bpWfkz0x4VfzSNbn5HpoYB8bwhYqUj9weuolmjtmWB43ym0iiwXUbO9lK-bcTHlBlsOBYf/s320/IMG_1950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243385932096911010" border="0" /></a><br />For some reason, the shower in our apartment has not been working very well. Instead of taking a leisurely hot shower to wake me up in the morning I have had to suffer through the painful experience of frigid water hitting my entire body. Not one ounce of remotely warm water has come out of this shower head, despite the fact that we get hot water in every other faucet in the apartment.<br /><br />Needless to say, it was essential for us to call a repair man. Gennie began school yesterday, so unfortunately she was not going to be here during the time the repair man would make his visit. When we made the appointment on the phone, the company assured us that they would send someone who was fluent in English (because I would be the only one here).<br /><br />It didn't take long after the repair man buzzed to get into the apartment that I realized he didn't speak a lick of English. Perfect. So began the fiasco of fixing our shower. As he came into the door he rattled off a long sentence in French. My initial reaction was shear panic. However, I knew that now was not a time to be meek. I pulled out all of the high school French that I remembered. Surprisingly, we communicated the entire time in French and thankfully we were quite successful.<br /><br />Now, not only do we have a wonderful hot shower awaiting us in the morning, but my confidence in French has been bolstered.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-61011255588421909772008-09-03T00:04:00.000-07:002008-09-09T13:17:17.792-07:00C'est la vie!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRkC6bkhcb-wQj4FpZcg0GCJJvu4HDyul58jhCxXuoBAwt-lA1ddPBZkIhzqhQmH_gCNGeAuZ9f9Mq-PFxoeTiQ91vvXNRQiUsrxAelJuSdUtw2yYGo9ZlO0q-32U8CC40WGoAFEG_zBc/s1600-h/CIMG3095.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRkC6bkhcb-wQj4FpZcg0GCJJvu4HDyul58jhCxXuoBAwt-lA1ddPBZkIhzqhQmH_gCNGeAuZ9f9Mq-PFxoeTiQ91vvXNRQiUsrxAelJuSdUtw2yYGo9ZlO0q-32U8CC40WGoAFEG_zBc/s320/CIMG3095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243924865038237202" border="0" /></a><br />These past several days have flown by!<br /><br />On Monday and Tuesday Gennie and I ran all over town to get our apartment ready for the new school year that is quickly approaching. Brussels is decadently mapped out with superior public transport... the envy of every environmentally-friendly American. Buses, underground metros, and trams cover the city so that every nook and cranny can be explored by travelers and citizens alike. Gennie, a native of Brussels for years, promises me that within days I will be fluent in this seemingly overwhelming system of transportation.<br /><br />Last night Gennie spent over an hour mapping out every bus number, underground, and tram that I may need during my time in Brussels (color coded stickers and artistic drawings included). My dreams of not taking anymore tests after finishing my nursing boards quickly faded as I realized that at any time Gennie will be quizzing me on what tram number I need to get home from le Grand Place or Artsloi!<br /><br />On Monday, in the midst of buying new school clothes, tram passes, and phone cards, we found the time to stop at a cafe for a delicious Belgian lunch. Small, rod iron tables and chairs line almost every cobblestone abbey so that a short, mid-day lunch break can be taken by the deserving customer. Whether with friends or completely solo, people here find the time in the middle of the day to stop whatever they are doing and sit to enjoy a glass of wine and sandwich before finishing their day of work. Gennie and I enjoyed delicious mushroom, cheese, and tomato paninis as we watched the waves of people shopping and strolling about le Rue Neuve.<br /><br />At home, people are astounded when I enlighten them that I grew up in a house built in 1917. Old buildings are hard to come by, preserved and even turned into museums in some cases. I am surprised by the nonchalant attitudes with which many people here pass by an exceptional piece of history that must have a fascinating story behind it.Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159964682415179324.post-41051480994267765542008-08-31T02:58:00.000-07:002008-08-31T07:27:07.447-07:00Here at Last<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq62U_W71kqwsQG0Eg9A0g61oZPTwDn-EjsRu3YlB-F5Eai5DzpAxPw8Bw5E6JoM7g9bEsb1a55awH_5T2Wl-1QxI_vjRNizc5ayfAY5GRp7lTQJlEXVKZLN1p_bR8gIk0pmT1ZQQEvPQ/s1600-h/CIMG3087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq62U_W71kqwsQG0Eg9A0g61oZPTwDn-EjsRu3YlB-F5Eai5DzpAxPw8Bw5E6JoM7g9bEsb1a55awH_5T2Wl-1QxI_vjRNizc5ayfAY5GRp7lTQJlEXVKZLN1p_bR8gIk0pmT1ZQQEvPQ/s320/CIMG3087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240687977986768930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5daZq1PR85vTB8vl25nll9Dv2LamPHj0Qj89AgIbYGH4pcGhrrEg_mdSRZGHyyJb1aIOZqWwxJZOV1_5rFdWQ6hOIHt1JXX0QmBM-a-DYsMsfA5BATiOYhgzvo4eOSrIkRND-k4k1db8/s1600-h/CIMG3064.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5daZq1PR85vTB8vl25nll9Dv2LamPHj0Qj89AgIbYGH4pcGhrrEg_mdSRZGHyyJb1aIOZqWwxJZOV1_5rFdWQ6hOIHt1JXX0QmBM-a-DYsMsfA5BATiOYhgzvo4eOSrIkRND-k4k1db8/s320/CIMG3064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240687987773613490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_BEYMvqaKT_w-miEgeXEbrIVajJkL-EMTzNXIsv_DFZXQP-mEe7XA4-8_Frh5QBbFkWWV30rY5aQvNDNTYNqEyASJGuy_yoOncfBRizKtG3PTUKHwR9YzfBf6Ir5J5AkPNv_Lxnoe8XI/s1600-h/CIMG3083.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_BEYMvqaKT_w-miEgeXEbrIVajJkL-EMTzNXIsv_DFZXQP-mEe7XA4-8_Frh5QBbFkWWV30rY5aQvNDNTYNqEyASJGuy_yoOncfBRizKtG3PTUKHwR9YzfBf6Ir5J5AkPNv_Lxnoe8XI/s320/CIMG3083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240687992745613794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I can't believe that I am here at last! I took a long flight from Seattle to London and was picked up by Suzie. It felt incredible to be welcomed warmly with a hug and immediately feel at home due to the offer of a Starbucks coffee. The two of us then took the tube to the northern London town of Islington where the family lives. The charming streets wind around and are lined with houses that have been there for centuries.<br /><br />I then met Gennie; an energetic, funny, and absolutely lovely 17 year old who I will be living with for the next 6 months. After a good meal at a little Italian restaurant down the street I finally got some much needed sleep.<br /><br />The next morning Suzie, Gennie, and I went out to a little cafe for fresh croissants and juice as we went over all of the details for our time in Brussels. Then Gennie and I were off to Brussels by train! The little that I have seen of this beautiful city has already exceeded my expectations. Our apartment is picturesque. My lovely room has a three pane window that opens to a stunning view that overlooks the city. We live just across from a luscious green park with an old Abbey on the grounds. The cobblestone streets give Brussels a feeling of richness and history that is comforting.<br /><br />Percy, Gennie's puppy, is actually quite endearing (I can't believe that I am saying this). She snuggles up into my lap whenever she has a chance and follows us wherever we go in the apartment. All the shops are closed each Sunday and Gennie was shocked when I told her that most stores are open on Sundays in the States.<br /><br />I think that these next months are going to be full of new experiences and I cannot wait for it all to begin!Gittahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11947858398330961413noreply@blogger.com2