Ghost Town

Tuesday is a national holiday (All Saints Day) here in Belgium. This means that EVERYTHING is closed. Now that would be fine, if EVERYTHING wasn't also closed on Sunday, and then since no one wants to just take Sunday and Tuesday off, most EVERYTHING is also closed on Monday too. To put this in American terms, imagine every Starbucks, Barnes & Noble, Wal-Mart, Kroger, Chick-fil-A, post office and bank being closed. And then imagine it being three days in a row. And then imagine that you don't have any kids, and you don't work, and you don't have a car, so all you are left to do is feel like some 1950s housewife who fills her time planning out meals, knitting, cross-stitching, cleaning, reading and doing laundry. And then you have an idea of why I am a little down today.

These kinds of feelings don't ususally get to me because I stay so busy here. But because of this holiday, the schools have also put their fall break on this week, so most of my friends are out of town with their children. Since all the schools are closed, the American Women's Club is also closed, which is where I usually spend a lot of my time. I have thought about hopping on the train and taking a day trip to somewhere in Belgium, but since it is a national holiday, I think every other small town will be shut down the way Brussels is.

What really got me even more in the dumps today was planning out a nice dinner for Kyle and me. Since I had already cleaned, knitted, made the bed, read, worked on our Christmas card, cross stitched, watched the directors cut of a movie and it was only 1pm, I figured I should think of a few more ways to kill time. So I found a good looking recipe, hauled everything back from the grocery store and attempted to "whip up something special." Kyle got home just as the fish was finishing under the broiler. Even though I wasn't in an exactly chipper mood, I thought dinner would be nice. That is, until I turned my back and Kyle said, "There are flames in the oven!!!" Turns out that my fish had slightly caught on fire. We were able to save the fish, but Kyle then had to scrape the creamed spinach from the pot because in dealing with the fish, I had forgotten about the spinach and it too had burned. So we sat down to dinner of crispy fish and a little less spinach than I had anticipated. Kyle was being a wonderful husband and decided to take a big bite of fish to show how good it was. According to his facial expression, it was good for about two seconds, until he realized that it had bones in it. He then proceeded to spit half of it out in trying to find the bones and not choke on them. Turns out that either the Belgian grocery stores don't label if the fish has bones in it, or I just don't know what it says in French. I guess that means we will have a few more trial and errors until I figure it out!

So Kyle and I finished off a bottle of wine to make the fish go down easier and to prevent me from crying. After dinner we figured out that his US paycheck that gets transfered to Belgium has been put on hold due to the banks being on this public holiday. We have no idea when it might clear. Normally that would be fine because we have a few different accounts with money in them. But in this crazy country, the banks don't seem to understand supply and demand. So if an ATM runs out of money every Tuesday, then they still put the same amount in it the next week, even if it still runs out of money by Tuesday. A very, very frequent occurence here is to see long lines at the ATMs on Friday, because everyone knows that by Saturday or Sunday there will be no money in them. And you are lucky if the ATM is refilled by Tuesday on a normal week, let alone a long weekend. So basically, since the town was almost shut down on Friday (because of strikes) and no one would dare work on Saturday or Sunday and most places are closed on Monday and Tuesday for the holiday, I really have no idea when Kyle and I might be able to withdraw money. And as of right now, we only have 5 euros between the two of us.

So all of this to say--for those of you out there who think that expats lives are heaven on earth, just be warned that they aren't always like that. Yes, I love my life over here and feel incredibly lucky to have this experience. But the thing about being an expat is that just as soon as you feel like you have it all together, BOOM, life hits you and gets you down again. Basically, tomorrow Kyle and I will have only five euros between us and most likely won't get any more cash until at least Thursday. However, that doesn't really matter because nowhere is open. So in essence, tomorrow I will be stuck in the house all day long to widdle my time away with not a penny in my hand. Too bad for Kyle I have a new chicken recipe I am thinking of trying! :)

Tips for a Georgia Girlfriend

I am currently dealing with the repercussions of yet another Georgia loss to Florida. After seven losses in the last nine years, you would think I might be used to it. However, the losses haven't affected me as much as they've affected the boy I was dating at the time. I have only been with Kyle for four of the last seven losses, but before then, I was either dating or had a crush on a boy that was always a big UGA fan. So after suffering through these last seven losses on each weekend in late October, I have a few tips for other Georgia girlfriends on how to handle their significant others after a GA/FL loss.

1. The said boyfriend/crush should not be held responsible for anything that is said or done within the 24 hours preceeding the game or the 8 hours after the game. They are in a zone similar to the one you are in at the After Thanksgiving Day Sales. Unless it deals with football, nothing is registering in their minds.

2. Don’t even try to talk to them at any time before, during or after the game. Having someone to talk to is what your girlfriends are for.

3. You can ask a question about the game, but only between plays and only if it is a somewhat intelligent question.

4. If you are going to scream out loud with everyone, at least know what you are screaming about.

5. If you are going to the game, then wear comfortable shoes. You are only getting dressed up
to impress the other girls, so no guy wants to hear your whining and moaning about how uncomfortable you are.

6. Don’t ever make a guy leave the game early. If you want to leave, then leave on your own and make a plan to meet back up somewhere. But if you make your guy leave any Georgia game early, then everyone around you will be making fun of you in their minds -- you for being a wimp and him for being, well, a wimp.

7. If the Dawgs lose, then just stay silent. There is nothing you have said or done that made your guy mad, so you might as well not bug him. On the same note, there is nothing you can say or do that will make him happy, so again, you might as well not bug him. All he wants to do is commiserate as to why the Dawgs lost, and how they could have scored that extra point, not gotten that flag, etc.

8. This might be a little too Southern sounding for those women libbers out there, but boys only want to talk to other boys about football. Even if you are Melissa Stark, they are really only listening to you to be polite. So just stay out of their way, and discuss among your own girlfriends why the play-action pass was called one too many times.

Photos from Luxembourg

I have finally gotten together the photos from our trip last weekend to Luxembourg. Hope you enjoy!

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=121a73ha.6ljdeq6q&x=0&y=qgk80q

Pardonnez moi

There are a few problems with living in a country where the citizens do not speak your native tounge:

1--When you are speaking in English, it is usually with someone for whom English is a second language. Therefore, you learn to simplify your word choice to be as clear as possible.

Recently Kyle and I were at dinner and I said, "Look Kyle, that meal comes wrapped in silver paper." to which he replied, "Don't you mean tin foil?" The scary part is that I hadn't even noticed I had said anything weird.

Because I am always trying to do a weird version of sign language if I don't know the French word, I have often caught myself saying, "My name is Wingfield. You know, wing like the bird (and then flapping my arms) and field like the, well, just field (and then I push my hand out like I am signaling the horizon.) Then they look at me like I am a complete moron and say, "Winfield?" And I just say, "Yes, Winfield."

While in Luxembourg with Amy and Nate this past weekend, the waiter at a nice restaurant was telling us the specials in French. When we didn't understand one of the choices, we asked if he spoke Flemish. So then he said the word in Flemish and we still didn't understand. Finally, after all of us trying to do motions and figure out what he was saying, he just said, "Bambi." And then the lightbulb went off for all of us and we said, "Ooohhh, you mean deer or venison!" And so that is what Nate ordered.

2--When you learn French you start to forget some of the English you already know.
The time I really knew the language difference was getting to me though was again in Luxembourg. Amy was leading the way in trying to find a restaurant that had been recommended to us. I wasn't quite sure if Amy had seen the restaurant, or if we were supposed to continue following her a bit further, so I said to Kyle, "We have still more to go now?" He just looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Yes, we need to keep walking."

What's your sign?

So I have decided that if you are a Scorpio, then I will most likely be your friend, if not your best friend. To really help your chance, you should be born between Oct. 26 and Oct. 30. This is because some of the people closest to me all have birthdays between those dates...

Oct. 26--Carla Chrimes Rush(my best friend from high school)
Oct. 27--Kyle (enough said)
Oct. 28--Kelly Willis (my best friend in Brussels)
Oct. 30--Sara Kathryn Skilling Hill (just a good ole' best friend)

I haven't done too much research as to whether Scorpios and Leos make good partners, but it seems to me they do. So Happy Birthday to all my closest friends!!!

The Free Spirits in Tournai, Belgium

 

Are you a Free Spirit?!?!

I belong to a great group of women called the Free Spirits. Basically, they are women who are also in the American Women's Club and have lots of free time on their hands. Most of them are older women that have grown children, have been career expats, and have a free enough schedule that they can do things at the drop of a hat. We take day trips around Belgium, go to movies together, and most recently all went to a hair salon and watched a fellow Free Spirit have a complete makeover.

I recently went on a day trip to Tournai, Belgium, with about 20 other Free Spirits. As we all jabbered on in our loud English and then attempted to run across a busy street at once, two images came to mind--if you have seen the movie "Rat Race" when all the Lucile Ball lookalikes go crazy and in the movie "Sister Act" when all the nuns go running across the street in Las Vegas, that is exactly what we looked like.

As I have begun to spend more time with this group (in my mind I call my section Under Forty and Free) the thought has occured to me that more people in the States should do this. I know most women out there work, but there has to be a free day here or there where you could all take a day trip up to Helen, GA, or something. It is just funny to me that even though I was born and raised in Atlanta, there are still lots of things I haven't seen there. Maybe if we all started seeing our cities through a tourist's eyes we would enjoy and appreciate them a little more.

 

We had a great weekend driving through Belgium and Luxembourg with our good friends Amy and Nate Chan. Along the way we stopped in a few small towns and then spent the night in Luxembourg City. Sunday we drove along the Mosel River and enjoyed all of the fall colors. To top off the trip we visited a champagne house, took a tour of the building and finished off with a tasting of the local champagne and wines. 

More photos

Check out my time in Brussels with my sister and Brighton, England with my sister, aunt, and cousin below...

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=121a73ha.2minfo6q&x=0&y=x44xgq

The girls in Brighton...our second cousin Heather (Dad's direct cousin who now lives outside of London), our aunt Missy (who flew over from Atlanta), Emily and Sarah Kathryn (the photographer) had a great time shopping and dining on the coast of Brighton, England these past few days.

Kyle and Sarah Kathryn enjoying some good Belgian frites.

Wife Classes

I know that it has become a trend in many schools to teach an Ethics & Morals Class. This is often taught because the children are never taught these things at home and the burden then falls on the teachers to help create good citizens. I will tell you another thing that I don’t think is always taught at home and needs to be taught in schools—wife classes. The liberal part of me wants to call them Spouse Classes because a man needs to know this stuff just as much as a woman does, but in the situation I am in right now (where 95% of all the women I know stay at home because they are the trailing spouses and aren’t allowed a work visa in Belgium) I think it is more important for the wife to know this stuff.

I have a great mother. I have many fond memories of her teaching me how to bake cookies, make gravy, and create some great food presentations for parties. Heck, she even made me a kiddie size apron when I was a child! And yet, even with all of her great training, I don’t know how to make my own chicken stock, how to juelienne versus dice a tomato, or how to properly defrost a turkey. My point to all of this is that if I had a great mom, who was even a stay at home mom, then how do these now-adults who once had working mothers who just did take-out or frozen dinners every night cope? I don’t know about other schools, but I definitely know Home-Ec classes were not offered at my high school. And to be honest, I don’t know if these classes would have covered everything I need to know.

I think I am also realizing how much I am lacking in the wife department because in Europe they do not have near the amount of ‘ready made’ things that they do in the States. So if I want chicken broth, then I have to learn to make my own spice bouquet and boil the chicken myself. If I want fruit cut up, then I am buying whole apples, oranges, and pineapples and cutting them myself. For these reasons alone, Kyle and I eat a lot of baked chicken and pasta for dinner.

I think my lack of knowledge is also compounded by the fact that I got married and immediately moved away from my family. Traditionally, many people stay close to their families for at least a few years after college or marriage. This softens the blow of just how little the woman knows because if she has a question, she can at least call her mom. Just today, I was in the grocery store and had a question about white wine vinegar. I thought of my mom half a world away (and still asleep because of the six hour time difference) and realized that I was all on my own on this one.

The need for me to enroll in some wife classes really came to head when I just saw a presentation of ‘Tackling the Grocery Store’ in the Hints for Living in Belgium class I am helping out with. These women were talking about how to mix the European flours to create a flour more similar to the self-rising kind we are used to in the States. They discussed fine grain sugar versus regular granulated sugar and when you want to use each depending on if you are making a bread or a pastry. There is light brown sugar and dark brown sugar, but both are different from the kinds in the States, so you also have to adjust those accordingly.

After my head was swimming just enough to feel like a failure, they went on to talk about the cleaning products in Belgium. I might not have known much about cooking, but I REALLY don’t know much about cleaning. You might find this ironic considering that I have been a maid twice in my life. However, both of those times were for summer jobs, so my focus was more on sun & fun than spic & span.

The women starting talking about floor cleaner and how the parquet cleaner differs from the wood cleaner. There is calcium in the water here in Brussels, so you have to put salt in your dishwasher and soak your faucet head in vinegar to dissolve the calcium. Somehow the septic system within your toilet can even create buildup and then you have to figure out the right thing to flush down your toilet to stop the smell. Because the washing machines are side loading here (rather than top loading in the States) you can not use bleach. For some other reason (that I still haven’t caught on to) you have to wash all your darks together with the ‘dark’ detergent and all the whites together with the detergent for only whites, regardless of the water temperature. I never thought I would be this stressed out as to how to classify khaki and yellow!!! In the States I did everything together on a cold cycle and life was great. After a few pairs of gray underwear here and then turning some of Kyle’s undershirts and socks a very pretty baby blue (that he now refuses to wear) I am starting to take the seriously that you don’t mix colors and that you use the appropriate detergent.

So does anyone know of a good instructor for the Wife Class 101? I'll be the first to sign up!

We made sure to get "backlighting" just for you Dad.

Sarah Kathryn (my sister) arrived yesterday, bringing with her perfect Atlanta weather. We had a great time going to Villers la Ville, which is the remnants of an old abbey. Since Dad wasn't there to be our paparazzi, we took lots of pictures of ourselves in his place.

Maybe I have been away from Atlanta too long

Last night Kyle and I watched National Lampoon's European Vacation. In one scene, Clark (the goofy dad) and his family are checking into a London hotel. Clark pulls out his electronic translator to type in what the manager has mumbled and Rusty (the son) says, "He's speaking English, Dad."

Tonight I felt like what Clark must have felt like. I saw that MTV was showing the making of the singer Ciara's video which was shot in Atlanta. I could barely understand a word of the song, but I wasn't too surprised by that because I don't think rap songs usually make too much sense. However, when Ciara and her director were just chatting with the camera about the making of the video, there were honestly full minutes where I could not understand one word that had been said. Every now and then I would catch an "Atlanta" or "dance" or some word like that, but that was about it. So I guess if and when we move back to Atlanta I might need to take some language lessons there too.

Miscommunication

I just had a perfect example of why I think global business is really challenging. It is also a great example of how it can be really hard to learn all the idioms that come with a language if you just learn it from a textbook and not real life. Today I have been trying to get in touch with someone here in Brussels that does not have a cell phone. Here is how the conversation went with this man's secretary:

Emily: So when Chris calls in to check with you would you mind asking him to call me?
Luca: No.
Emily: Oh, umm, so you can't ask him to call me?
Luca: No.
Emily: Umm, ok, well, should I just give you a message then and you can pass it on to him?
Luca: No.
Emily: Well, what should I do then?
Luca: Give me your cell phone number and I will have him call you.
Emily: But I just thought you said he couldn't call me.
Luca: No, it's not a problem.
Emily: So now it is ok for you to ask him to call me?
Luca: No, it will not be a problem to have him call you.

What I finally realized is that Luca just forgot to add on the "it is not a problem" part to her sentence the first few times. She got the "no" part of how the sentence starts, but forgot the rest. Thank goodness I wasn't working on a multi-million dollar deal!

Wingfields In Brussels UNCENSORED

So there is not actually any uncensored material in this blog, but I am just writing to let you know that if I seem any bit tame or nice to any of you, it is really just because Kyle is a good editor. I have a tendancy to get fired up now and then, and especially if I have had a Belgian beer, then I really want the world to know what I think. However, I always click "Save As Draft" first and have Kyle look over what I have written. This is because I always say exactly what is on my mind, and that is not always the best thing...especially when it is published and out there for the whole world to see.

My favorite blog of all time is Dooce, and part of the reason is because she says everything that is on her mind (from constipation to some really foul language). However, this policy of sharing everything also got her fired from her job and got her family really, really mad at her, so I also try to keep that in mind. The deceptive thing about blogging is that you kind of feel like you are just writing a journal to yourself. Since I used to keep my journal in a Word document on the computer (because I am much faster typer than a writer), this is a really deceptive feeling to me. The common idea many bloggers share is that, if you would say it to a person's face, then you can write and publish it, but if you would not want even just one person in the world to know you felt that way, then you should not publish it.

So if you want to know if I have a feistier side, just know that there are many, many unpublished blogs on my computer... :)

WSJ

Pick up a copy of the Wall Street Journal today (Monday) to see Kyle's article that even has his byline!

Mom and Dad are gonna catch you!

Bad news--Kyle might get grounded soon. Last night he lied to his parents and even though they haven't said anything yet, I think they might have caught him.

Kyle realized last night that this Slingbox (where he watches US TV on the computer) might not be as great as he originally thought. Last night he was talking to his parents and said that he needed to hang up with them because he was headed to bed....and then he stayed up for another two hours watching the never ending Braves game on the Slingbox. It wasn't until about 1am our time that he realized that where the Slingbox gets its cable from is in Burt and Sherrie's house. The Slingbox in their house has a light that shows when it is on and we are watching it here in Brussels. So Kyle was caught red handed!

It is kind of creepy to think that technology has gotten so advanced that our parents can still know what we are doing half a world away!

Honesty

Kyle and I have found a new church here in Brussels that we both really like. Last Sunday the sermon was about being honest with God and others and admitting when you need help. After the sermon we broke into small groups and discussed how so often people will not admit that we are all broken and weak and that we all need help. This sermon was part of the reason I wrote my previous blog about Can't Git Right. I have only written one or two blogs about when I have had a bad day here and part of the reason for writing so few (even though I have definitely had my share of bad days) is that when I have a bad day and write about it, people kind of jump all over me about "Why are you depressed? How can you fix it? Oh no, you aren't doing well in Brussels." The truth is that we all have bad days now and again whether in the States or in Brussels, but I have just been crazy enough to share it with people, rather than putting on a fake smile and pretending everything is ok.

All of this brings me to a website I have recently come across. It is called PostSecret. The idea is that people create their own postcards and on the front, they can write their secret and send it to this man, who will then post it on the website. There are definitely some crazy secrets out there, but there are also some really sad ones too. It is amazing to think that so many people are walking around with such painful, deep and dark secrets and yet looking so "normal" to everyone they encounter. How exhausting to have such a secret and yet act as if nothing has happened.

One of my favorite phrases

I have read an article about this before, and I must agree with the author that one of my favorite phrases for another person to tell me is "Sorry, but it has been cancelled." I love hearing this because all of the sudden I have all of this free time that I had not previously anticipated! I was supposed to go to Antwerp from 9-5 today and because of the strike wreaking havoc on the whole city, they had to cancel the trip. When the woman called and said it was cancelled I almost started dancing around I was so happy. You might ask, if I was so happy to not go on the trip, then why didn't I just cancel in the first place? Well, first of all, I hate cancelling on other people (ironic, I know). And even though I had lots of other things to do today, I am trying to enjoy every moment here in Europe, and how often can you just pop up to Antwerp to go antique shopping with your girlfriends? So now, in celebration of having eight unplanned hours, I am going to go snuggle under the warm covers and take a nap!

Pseudo snow day

All Belgian public transportation workers have decided to go on strike this Friday and Monday. Conveniently enough they are not only striking for more money, but are also giving themselves a four day weekend through this strike. Because of the strike, people are starting to act like Southerners do when there is a 2 % chance of snow--they panic and go crazy.

All anyone has talked about for the last two days is this strike. Everyone is saying that the traffic will be horrible and no one will be able to get a taxi. Companies are telling their employees to not come into work, the International School of Brussels has closed for the day, and people are saying that even grocery stores will be closed (due to lack of employees being able to get there)!

I am leaving for a day trip up to Antwerp for antiques on Friday morning and already about half the people in the group have dropped out because they are worried about traffic. I think I will most likely end up having to walk for 45 minutes to get to the meeting point because I am pretty sure I have no chance of getting a cab. Sure hope those tram drivers are enjoying their holiday while the entire rest of the city is suffering.

TMI -- Too Much Information!!!

I have a mantra here in Brussels that you can’t have friends unless you like kids. I say this because for the last ten months, about 99.9% of the women I have met and become friends with have children. This is wonderful for them and it is great for me—I get to be the sweet friend who plays with the kids when they are cute, but then when the three year old child needs to go poop behind a bush because there are no public restrooms here, I don’t have to wipe their butt and pick up their poop in a plastic bag as if they were a dog. (By the way, that is a true experience.)

But I have begun to realize that I need to have more friendships with people who do NOT have children. Originally Kyle and I had planned on having kids around 29 or30. After having this many friends with this many kids, the ideal age for children is becoming 30++. In the last ten months, I have learned WAY too much about child rearing, and more importantly, child birth. As of last year, I did not know what an episiotomy was (if you don’t know what it is—trust me, stay that way!). I also didn’t know about how your child’s first bowel movement is like tar or how after birth all of your insides are screwed up for days or how long the epidural needle that they stick into your back is. (I know many, many more horrible facts about the birthing process, but I don't want to scar others the way I have been scarred.) After going to about a bazillion coffees with mothers, I now know all of these things. And as if I don’t have enough issues with the birthing process, three friends were recently discussing how they have each POOPED ON THE TOILET WHILE BREASTFEEDING!!!!! That thought alone set me back five years for the thought of kids. Now I am really having trouble walking down the street and seeing a woman with a child and not thinking, "Have you had all this happen to you also? And yet you look so normal!"

Last night I was playing bunco with a bunch of women that all have kids. I was telling them why I am not ready to have children and one said, “Honey, don’t worry about the time you are in labor, worry about the next 18 years!!!” Great, as if I don’t have enough issues already!!!

Can't Git Right

There was a boy in the AGR (Agricultural Fraternity) at UGA whose nickname was Can't Git Right. I have no clue why he was named that, and in fact, I don't think I even know who the guy was, but I always rembember his nickname because there are just certain days that I too, Can't Git Right. Today is one of those days.

On paper I have had a wonderful day, however I just can't get in a good mood. I am not in a bad mood, but I sure am not happy either. In fact, there have been moments today that I just want to cry for no reason. I think something that makes my blah mood even worse is my Catholic guilt saying, "Emily, you have so much to be thankful for, you have no reason to be a bad mood." This guilt especially hits me over here because I just see so many people that are in such horrible situations. I'll share a story about a much worse off situation tomorrow when I have time.

As I was just on the internet, I came across this blog called Three Beautiful Things. This woman writes down three things that make her happy each day. So even though I am in a blah mood, I realize that I have tons to be thankful for. So here are my three beautiful things for today...

1. Getting to sleep in until 9:00 and then hit snooze for 30 minutes so I woke up slowly. It was cold outside and I got to snuggle under the heavy covers.

2. Having coffee with my British friend Emily. It is wonderful to have a friend who had and entirely different upbringing, but we still have so much in common.

3. Getting a lot of packages stuffed, sealed, stamped and finally put in the mail. This project had been hanging over my head for a long, long time. Trust me, trying to go to the Belgian post office is something you avoid at all costs, but I finally triumphed!!!

THe Party Pictures

To see pictures from Emily Lodge's 30th party click here:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=121a73ha.6oma2sn6&x=0&y=-b363yu

TH

We are getting ready to go to our friend Emily Lodge's 30th birthday party tonight. It is a costume party (called a Fancy Dress party in Britain). The idea is to dress up like something starting with the letters TH (since she is turning THirty). Kyle is going as a thesaurus with the only entry in his book being OLD and all of the synonyms for old. Emily is a great sport and I am sure she will get a laugh out of it, however we are pretty sure that we will be the only guests UNDER thirty and so we will probably offend every other party guest over thirty. What a way to make friends!

I am going at the Thames River. I am dressed in all brown with trash taped all over me. Hopefully the Brits will not get too offened over that one either!