Scenes from Brussels

Just some pictures I like from my stay:

Ceiling of a shopping promenade.


The peeing boy.

A little graffiti next to a statue.


Awesome art nouveau architecture: Musical Instrument Museum

I love the Danish.

The Atomium.

I have become such a lazy traveler.

Being with Gerda and family, all I want to do it stay in their pretty home and spend hours talking at the table and enjoying homecooked meals and munching on chocolate which is kind of what I am doing. I have realized that "home" has now become a destination for me. It doesn't feel commonplace anymore and so I am lapping it up like a dog drinking water.

I almost did not want to do anything yesterday--which is silly since I am in Brussels--but Gerda suggested that we go to the Atomium, which is a sight that would be new for both the family and me. The Atomium, which is a huge structure in the shape of the iron molecule, was built during the World Fair in 1958, and is Belgium's version of the Eiffel Tower. People go visit it to check out the views from the top.

Katrine, who had heard about it at school, was so excited that she skipped and jumped and ran around in circles as we walked towards it. However, the excitment waned quickly as the inside was nowhere as cool as the outside. For 9 euros each, we paid to wait in line to go to the top, which was a cramped, hot and smelly room, only to wait in line to go back down. For some reason, they did not let anyone use the stairs and so we spent the whole time waiting for the elevator. It would have made all the difference.

Gerda and Morten, being the gracious hosts, paid for everything, even buying me and Katrine and Anna Belgian waffles just so I can taste them. Gerdan and Morten are not that much older than me, but suddenly I felt like I could be one of their daughters.

"If my family dies and I am all alone, will you take me in?" I asked Gerda.

She said sure. I really meant it. I love these people.

First there is Katrine, the youngest. I cannot understand a word she says, but her facial expressions are filled with love, hate, rage, and silliness and she is fun to watch. Even though it is probably annoying for her parents, it is hilarious seeing her get mad over the littlest thing and yell things like "you don't understand me!" and stomp around, only to be in a perfectly normal disposition two minutes later. We finally bonded playing pirate swordfights and punching games. She then showed me her toys and the metal she won, and even said Good night to me in English. (It took her five minutes of standing there, and when she finally said the words, she scampered up the stairs in embarassment).

Anna is your typical teenager--it appears they are the same whether you are in the States or Europe. She takes hours getting ready and changes her outfit a few times a day. She thinks Americans are cool: She went to a Rhianna concert, watches One Tree Hill, speaks English well. Watching her reminds you all over what being a teenager was like.

And then there is Gerda and Morten. I really liked Gerda when I met her in Poland. She was so friendly and could get on with everyone, whether they were a flamboyant gay Spanish man or a Polish-American girl from New York City. But here, watching her in her real life, I am so impressed by her and the life she has created for herself.

She and Morten really work together as a team to manage their household. He cooks, she cooks. He cleans, she cleans. He takes care of the kids, she takes care of the kids. They have a warm, cozy home. Their kids are well-behaved and fun to be around. They have good jobs. They have a big car (that all their Euro friends turn up their noses at since it is not good for the environment) and yet they ride their bikes to work everyday (while their Euro friends drive). They take their kids to restaurants, they enjoy good food and good wine, they collect art and antiques, they vacation (looks like a trip to New York City is in the works). And while I know their lives are not perfect, it dawned on me that my last post was a bit naive. I wrote that I wanted to be a traveler and have the home and family, but I wasn't sure if I could have it all. But here, right in front of me, are Gerda and Morten, living both of my dreams at the same time and making it work. It finally clicked: It is not an either or situation. I can live the life the way I want.

When I have told people that I was visiting Brussels, I have gotten the following reactions:

"Don't go!"

"Brussels is my least favorite place in Europe!"

"It is dirty and dangerous there!"

"Belgium is like a third world country."

I did not have high expectations. I have checked out the city sights, and while it is not my favorite city, it is not so bad as what people say. However, what has made it phenomenal and has made it one of the highlights of my trip, is spending time and literally being inspired by these wonderful people.

Gerda, Morten, Anna and Katrine: Mange tak! You guys are the best!

Everyone looking miserable at the Atomium. From left to right, Katrine, Anna, Gerda and Morten.

Anna with a Belgian waffle.


Katrine, the pirate.

The girl who eats everything.

Empty mussel shells, at dinner.

Ask me where I see myself in ten years, and I can give you two answers with absolute certainty, depending on the day.

I will be a traveler, visiting places all over the globe, immersing myself in different cultures, meeting interesting people and writing all about it.

Or, I will be married with kids in a nice home with a big kitchen to bake and a outdoor patio and garden to entertain.

My goal is to somehow do both, but they seem to be complete opposites. It is my common quandry: I want to have it all.

For now I am living the traveler's route, and I have stumbled onto my second dream, right here in Brussels, Belgium. I am staying with Gerda, the Danish woman I met in Polish classes, who works in Brussels as a translator for the European Union. She lives with her husband Morten and daughters Anna, 15, and Katrine, 7, in a four-story home with a garden in the back. This family is my fantasy in real life.

Take this Sunday morning. Gerda made some fresh bread. Morten went out to get some danishes (which I learned are not really Danish). We ate breakfast in our pajamas and told funny stories until Anna and Katrine got into a dramatic argument about a toy which reminded me of the days when my own sister used to make me cry on a daily basis. And now as I write this post, I am listening to the girls practice piano: First Katrine who stumbles along the song she needs to practice this week, and then Anna who fills the entire home with her graceful and beautiful song. If this is not the perfect vision of home, I am unsure what is.

Gerda and Morten have been incredible hosts. They took me to a Danish Christmas fair, laughing that it is not very typical "Belgian." However, I wanted to see how they live and it was fun to see this hokey fair selling traditional food and decorations, kids running around with face paint, all to benefit the church. We got some Danish licorice, which I had to spit out, it was so horrible. (This a typical reaction of the non-Danish). They had purchased some tickets for the lottery, and Katrine was very upset when we did not win the toy she wanted, huffing and puffing with a sour face, walking ahead and kicking her feet in the mud. How unfair life can be for a 7-year-old!

The family is multi-lingual, languages changing like the breeze. Katrine speaks only Danish and French, so she looked at me suspiciously for the most of the day. I started taking some pictures of her and her toys and then did she start smiling at me. Her favorite thing to do is eat, and when her parents said we were going to a restaurant, she squealed with joy.

We went out for Belgium's specialty: mussels and fries (apparently, the french fry was actually invented here). And nothing shocked me more than seeing this 7-year-old pry ugly, slimy fish out of shells and eating them with delight. She even requested the adult portion instead of the kids portion, but her parents said no. My own mussels were pretty tasty and I even dipped my french fries in mayonaise--this the choice condiment around here. It was not as bad as expected though I wouldn't make a habit of eating fat dipped in fat.

And what would Belgium be without chocolate! Gerda showed me her favorite chocolate shop, which had samples for the taking. I had about three pieces in three minutes. As we walked through the city, there was one shop after the other, offering delicious delights but we were so full that it wasn't worth the indulgence. Instead we opted for hot chocolate, which wasn't the "good stuff," I was told, but made my stomach feel nice and warm. At the table was a stack of coasters. On the back of one was written something like "Do you want to fuck?"

Katrine, who couldn't read it, layed out all the coasters on the table and we all played a memory game, searching for the one with the obscenity.

"I don't know why we bother getting her real toys," Gerda laughed. We played a few times until Katrine cheated (acting like she didn't, of course!). And with a full belly, a pleasant buzz with the company, we went home and I slept like a baby.

Katrine, the eater.

Mmmm...chocolate. That's Gerda buying some.


French fries and mayo.