Bongos in Bruxelles

Oh, how time flies when you're having fun. Been a while since I updated. The reasons for that being, limited access to the net because of limited funds and because there's a security guard at the wife's school who is an asshole and likes to kick me out after hours so I can't use it so he can watch soccer matches uninterrupted. Belgians.

Unfortunately, the once mighty American dollar does not go far here, and so even after some money sent from relatives in the Fatherland, we remain broke. The type of broke where you involuntarily turn into a vegetarian and become weak and feebleminded like vegetarians do, and the type of poor where the idea of Ramen noodles sounds like a gourmet meal. I'm going to say something here that will probably disgust or anger those who read it but, I miss Ramen noodles and you asshole kids in the states who gripe about it don't know what you're missing. They're like 1 Euro over here. That's about $1.45 a pack in the US. Considering we made a Euro stretch a week that's some high shelf shit right there.

So when it comes to food it has been pretty basic but I shouldn't complain. Belgium seems to have 3 basic stores: Lidl (cheapish) Delhaize (middleish and mysteriously has a Food Lion brand logo) and Carrefour (middle to high). The last two take credit cards - so there's some actual useful information for someone traveling. I usually walk down the road to Lidl and grab some stuff, although if you have any bottles of beer laying around some times you can take them to Delhaize and get some change back. 40 cents will get you far these days, kiddo.

Anyway, to honor my Irish heritage plenty of potatoes are being eaten, to honor my French heritage, plenty of crepes (or pan-crepes as my wife likes to call the ones I make) are consumed and the Soy sauce I can't explain but I will say that it was one of the better food investments I've made in poor times and I believe there should be a bottle in every house or traveler's pack. It managed to make the rice and noodles a little less boring. Minced garlic, fried onions (put ketchup on 'em and pretend they're onion rings without batter, kids! It's log, it's log, it rolls down hills it...)

Living in Brussels isn't so bad other than it being expensive. I mostly stay home and do the Charlie-Work for my wife. (Speaking of, I've been trying to keep up on my Always Sunny In Philadelphia this season. Thank god for the resilient Pirate Bay cause even if I had TV it doesn't air over here.)

To reach our immaculate apartment you must first climb about 100 stairs (moving in sucked) and once you're there you find a nice studio apartment about the size of your parent's two car garage. We also have no door on our bathroom so when we have to shit we close the door to the bedroom. I hear cars honking and sirens blaring constantly from my windows (which are along the slanted ceiling) and at night there's music playing in the streets below. Oh, and there are drug dealers too. I happen to live in the African district of Brussels and let me tell you, those Africans love their marijuana and heroin. Or at least, the white kids that venture into the area to buy the stuff sure love it. The drug dealers seem to prefer new clothes which I must say isn't a bad idea because if I'm going to buy scag I'd much rather buy it from a well dressed man standing outside of Chicken Spot, rather than some jerk in a dark alley that smells like poop. The cops keep a healthy presence in the way that they would on the TV show The Wire, meaning, they ARE present, if not only to meet a quota so the politicians don't piss their pants. I learned this the hard way after getting my camera and some money stolen. I'll leave that story for another day because it involved ample doses of extreme stupidity on my part.

African food is pretty good, though. 5 euros a plate or so, chicken, steak... beans rice, whatever. They have pimento that will light your ass hairs on fire for a week. I believe that's an exact quote from the Michelin Guide...

I hate European milk though. I could write a whole post on that but suffice it to say, it comes in a box and is warm and it doesn't taste like milk should. I know the cost of having fresh milk in a cooler in a shop and having to throw some of the product out is looked at as waste, but France and Belgium: your milk tastes like shit and I hate it.

Instead of washing things down with milk of course I much prefer beer. Brussels is great for beer but I am poor and if there's one way to stop someone such as myself from drinking nightly, as I would, it is to be poor. If you'd prefer to be a Wino, though, Lidl has a nice Cabernet Sauvignon for only 1.68!

I've managed to make the woman happy by drinking less and losing some weight due to the hippy diet, but god damn it am I bored. I hear you say, But Drew, you're abroad! Living the life! My response is: There's a reason money is such a popular thing and it's because without it you can't do anything and that includes even when living in the magical fairyland that is "abroad" or "Europe". Walking around and seeing the sights is great until you see a pub you'd like to visit, or you see a group of giddy Japanese businessmen running around giggling like school girls with waffles and ice cream and frites they've purchased from a nearby goodycart. I hope your fries and waffles were burnt and your ice cream melted, salarymen. I mean, it's fun and all, but just like anywhere it loses it's brilliance when you're not in a great mood and -- probably to many who have been here for years -- when you see it all the time. I haven't grown tired of it, obviously, it's just hard to cherish some times.

Work-wise, I'm trying to get some customers for conversational American English classes but that ain't panning out so great yet. I did get one guy who was interested. we planned to meet on a Wednesday night but we got lost and couldn't find each other in the downpour of rain that was unleashed upon us. We tried to meet up at Hector Chicken, some fast food chicken place, but it didn't work out and so we said we'd try again another day. He apologized and sounded a little sad, like he had desperately wanted to find out what Quentin Tarantino movies were really about, but lost the chance. All he was left to do was stand and ponder the wonders of the world, soaking wet, in front of Hector Chicken. I left sadder though, because while explaining American pop culture references to a curious Flemish man sounded fun and all, I really wanted to get paid. Bring home the bacon as it were, to the woman. Alas the only bacon I could bring home was myself and I cannot be eaten. YET...

Until next time, Bonjour.

American Alien In Paris

Got asked to do a few things (cleaning, etc) since I had asked for instructions to help earlier, so I ended up staying here a bit longer. I was also asked to go on an archeological thing with Marine's father, so I happily agreed. Meanwhile, they've got two kids visiting... 10 year old girl and a little boy who is 5. They're quiet and polite.

The boy's never met anyone other than French people before. I assume this because after he heard me talking he asked why I didn't speak French and if I were an alien. As in, an ET alien. That was funny and cute, but I wish he'd stop staring at me suspiciously at the dinner table. Ain't no alien gonna travel a million light years to hang out and eat crêpes!

Although he's right in every other sense, I am from another world and have no idea what the hell is going on.

Still searching for a state of grace...

Spent most of the day doing just this



Smoking and sitting on the bed staring at a church. Listening to Street Dogs.

Feeling like you've over stayed your welcome isn't a good feeling, although it is becoming a more common and common experience for me. Guess that shows what point in life I've come to. It's hard explaining to the wife why I haven't yet found a place to volunteer at for sure, because nothing sounds good. Which isn't the point, it isn't supposed to be good, I guess, just work and a roof over your head. But how do you spend 100 Euros to fly to Ireland if you don't have it and how do you work in southern france when you have a hard time with the language? Either way, I try and not let any discouragement show. Gotta be the strong one.

It helps nothing to admit you've made a mistake either, although I'm not sure what the right course of action ever would have been. I'm not saying I'm giving up or that my plans are going to fail, it's just not easy and you can't admit that to someone who is already worrying themselves to death over other things. Gotta stay positive and "in the present" as a friend told me. Maybe I'll find something tonight. I hope so, because it's Friday and I planned on leaving this weekend. C'est la vie.

Here, have a Street Dogs song:

Power Converters and Electric Wizardy

I was kinda worried about finding a decent and inexpensive power converter once I got over here, cause I brought my Eee PC and wanted to be able to stay in touch with people. So I went to this big supermarket they have over here called Carrefour, which is kind of like a Wal-Mart... except it has two floors, it's in a shopping mall, and some sections are pretty gigantic, especially the grocery area. Why we Americans don't have more of that going on, I don't know, cause we're supposed to be the consumer whores. Anyway, you can buy anything you want, really. A baguette or four, some pâté, two bottles of Johnnie Walker Red, some lubricant, a Twilight dvd, whatever, just have a blast.




I, however, went there for a power converter and after standing around for 15 minutes waiting for a service rep to become available (one of the small annoyances about living over here after being in America), we finally got directions to a power adapter that didn't cost 60 god damn Euros. In fact it was like 8 Euros and it was universal. I hadn't seen those before so I was amazed. European jacks to American, vice versa, and everything else. It's like the swiss army knife of power adapters and if you're traveling anywhere I recommend you get one. Saves you from having to buy a new adapter for each country. Also don't fry your shit - my laptop was apparently made to withstand the conversion of power, I don't know if everything else can.

Onward

So today I've done a whole lot of nothing; past few days I've been helping out with whatever needed to be done. I glued some broken furniture back together with some Sader glue (whatever the hell that stuff is, it's powerful). Climb ladders, put in light bulbs, whatever.

Other than that, I should be looking for a place to go on Help Exchange, but I've been postponing it because I haven't felt like I'm ready to go volunteer and work my ass off. For anybody who doesn't know, it's just an organization that helps you find room and board, in exchange you work for a set amount of hours - whatever it is the host requests. Some have photos of their land and detailed info on what their project is; renovating an old building in Ireland to create a coffee shop, renovating a giant French château, cleaning up pig shit. The world is yours! Of course the options aren't always great and it requires money to travel to the places, some which are pretty rural, even if you're already on the continent. There are some sweet deals though, like helping maintain a hostel in exchange for some $ once the backpacking season starts up. Or getting 50 euro a week for groceries.. still haven't figured that one out.

I've found a few places I'd like to go but it would mean taking a plane or a long train and both are expensive right now for some reason. I might be leaving this weekend 'cause I feel I've overstayed my my welcome, helping or not. So that's a short amount of time to pick a location, contact them and wait for a response. Here's hoping I manage it.

"But wherever I have gone, I was sure to find myself there"

Obvious to all, obvious to me, but I will reiterate:

You are who you are wherever you are.

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