18/08/2009
I wake up at 5 in the morning. One of my roommates is dragging the other into the room. I offer to help. When it is refused I go back to sleep. I wake up again after my alarm goes off. I look at my roommate. He is covered in blood. We meet early for a bus tour of the city, and have to wake him up. Noise doesn’t work, nor does shaking him. I finally get him up on my shoulder and he jolts awake. “You can sleep on the bus” my other roommate reassures him. We get there right on time; several people have obviously been there for a long while. We get on the bus and juice boxes are quickly distributed. The Dutch word for apple juice turns out to be “Appelsaap.” Everyone has a good laugh about this and then we silently enjoy them. My roommate we had trouble waking as it turns out was in a fight, and has lost several teeth. He has started noticeably forcing his mouth shut when he smiles.
A British man guides the tour. We see some statues, and drive by the Atomium, a replica of an Iron molecule for the world’s fair. We get out, snap some pictures, eat some fries and then trudge back onto the bus. The rest of the tour consists of going to the UN. We are told the official meeting center is in Strasbourg, and so one country volunteers to sit out each meeting. The French refuse to move the EU to Brussels. We see a part of the Berlin wall, and the building where dentistry was given to children against their will not a stone’s throw away.
Then there is a long series of more information given to us on campus, accompanied by more of the neon green chicken sandwiches I’ve come to be so fond of. We are given our housing assignments. I am to live with a woman on the end of the 5 metro line. This is quite far from the edge of the city, but pretty close to the campus, so it is nice.
We leave campus and go to La Mirabelle for diner. We walk out back into a fantastic garden that is set up in the middle of the predominantly grey city. There is even a chicken walking around. We eat and drink and I am seated next to a native so we can speak in French. It is a little awkward at first and it makes me think of my various conversation partners. I feel bad for them. Eventually though we move past this with some help from my knowledge of soccer. As it turns out, the Belgians hate the French. As far as I can see, every nationality in Europe hates someone different. After dinner we take some busses back. I almost fall off when the doors are closing, but manage to grab one of the rails on the door, preventing them from closing. We have a quick aperitif and go back to the hostel.
19/08/2009
The morning is full of registering at school. Our campus involves a renovated barn. The novelty is the best part about it. It is hot, the speeches are long, and if the chairs weren’t so damn uncomfortable I would have gladly slept it all away. It is basically a huge waste of time.
It ends eventually though and we decide that we need a drink. It is roughly 1:30. We hear about a good café to go to, and search for it for a long time. Finally we ask a young girl at a grocery store and she directs us. It is across the street, it just has a huge terrace. Everyone orders, I use the term for vodka I was taught in class. They look at me as if I asked them to order a kidney from a hospital. I get up and go to the bar. The shifts are changing so it takes awhile to get my order in. I come out several minutes later with a gin and tonic and a double of vodka. They feel bad for me though and only charge me 5 euro. I get back and everyone else is finishing their drinks, so I drink mine faster than I might have. Everyone else goes to buy clothes except for one other guy and I. The school is putting on a barbecue. We decide that there will be free food and that therefore, will make it worth going.
When we get there I met the guy who I will be living with. He asks my friend who is wearing a Twins shirt if he is from Minnesota. All I know about my roommate is that he’s Minnesotan. Low and behold. However, we don’t hit it off very well. Instead the people I wind up talking to are two girls who ask me if I like metal. I ask if they mean steel or Slayer. They seem excited about the slayer reference. As it turns out they are twins who are writing a fantasy book about WWII. They will be published in December. They are super excited about everything. Their mom calls and they ask me to walk with them to where she is picking them up. We talk some more, and they are picked up. As they leave I get the kiss on the cheek from each of them. They leave and I am smugly smiling. I feel like I have integrated into the culture, even if it is just a trifling bit.
