Tennis, Rubens and Party Girls

I respect the stillness of tennis. Last week was my first ever match. I had to fight off the urge to cheer after a good hit, and to swear at the 10 refs (really, why so many?!) at a bad call. Knapp beat Li, who played Henin (WTA #1, from Blegium). I thought of Aikens and her ridiculous love of the sport. I wish I would have truly listened to her endless commentary and gained some useful knowledge when we were housemates and she made the 4 of us watch every last match. Oh well, I’m more of a football girl anyway.

On Wednesday I took my first trip to the city and my first real day of exploration. I spent hours walking the streets of Antwerp with no real agenda. A city that acquired its name from the dutch word “hand werpen” meaning “hand thrown”. The legend includes a giant, a brave soldier (Brabo) and a hand being chucked into the river. Antwerp. Gruesome. At the Koninklijk Museum, despite its broken heater and poorly organized exhibits, I fell in love. Peter Paul Rubens. (The Raising and The Desecent).

Sunday called for partying! Woo hoo! – and 8 little girls. Emma turned 5. We celebrated in style. Barbies, face paint, ice cream, cake and kiddie champagne. We sang Happy Birthday in English and then its equivalent in Flemish.

“….In de glo-ri-a, in de glo-ri-a
hiep hiep hiep HOERA”

*more to come on the odd language: flemish and from belgium soon…

inside and out

I have arrived!

California with my sister was short-lived, but sweet. Shannon has a way of making you feel small (she IS 6′1″)and perhaps a bit uncomfortable at first, only because she doesn’t “bs” and desires to get to the heart of the matter asap. For this I admire her so. For the ways she loves those who are closest to her and faithfully does what she is called to do. Through the aches and pains, she follows through and in the process has made me the proudest 5′8″ sis.

Chicago was windy and cold and above all memorable. I am no good at surprises, but even if I had been I don’t think it could have gotten much grander…Wet feet, thawed by warmth from the fire. Birthday breakfast and sharings of recent tales. It was a day of great adventure through the city and through the strings of my heart, reminding me that I truly have missed the closeness of a dear, dear friend. As I boarded the plane I caught last glance of a certain red balloon, a boyish smile and a blessed beautiful soul. I felt a blending of uneasiness and absolute joy in my heart knowing that nothing is for certain, and yet nothing is without purpose.

By DC, I was ready for my final destination and a cozy bed. And well, now I am finally here! For the next two months Belgium will be my home. And it certainly feel so! I have quickly settled in and am getting acquainted with my host family. They have been nothing short of amazing. Taking me on tours, introducing me to new friends, pointing me in the direction of the wheat-free goods and continuously making me laugh.

I am living in the middle of Brussels and Antwerp, in a small village: Ruisbroek. There are old plump men with rosey cheeks and wee little terriers. There are grandmothers with wrinkles and worn skin, in far greater shape than I will ever hope to be. There are ducks and chicken and children that fill the streets. Chocolate truffles, chocolate bread, chocolate cereal and the list goes on. Duvel, Stella, Hoegaarden and that list too continues…It feels not too far from what I have known nor what I expected to see. The people are people, and the earth is still round.

To Travels and Trunks

Well, it all comes down to this… I am boarding a plane in just a few short hours. Destination: LAX. So-Cal for a few nights, layovers in Chi-town and DC, Brussels by Thursday. I am ready. I have packed up my life in Seattle, said most of my farewells and found rest in the passing season. I have delighted in grand goodbye parties, nights on the town and feasts galore. Thank you to all who have kicked it with me in the last weeks. You have given me great joy! I shall miss you much.

schnopps!