Then we had lunch. At Quick. The European equivalent of McDonalds. Of course I got several comments on how I’d enjoy this “American” meal. No, Americans are not all fast food junkies. No, every American is not obese and unhealthy. No, every hamburger is not fast food. And yes, I hate a whole late healthier with what I was fed at home than I am here. So please, stop insulting my culture!
After that it was back in the car for another hour car ride to Germany! I didn’t catch when we crossed the border, only when all the street signs looked like “adfadskfjdskl” to me. Coming to Belgium, I had some French and had an idea what things were saying, what people were talking about. Since then, I’ve only been to England and France. I’ve never studied a Germanic language, so it was a bit fun to listen to.
We went to this tiny long town wedged between two mountains (hills). It was all decorated like Christmas. Lots of food booths, hand made German Christmas decorations, lights. It looked like something you’d see in a Christmas movie, or a fake little touristy town based off of Europe Except, this was the real deal. The original. We stopped to buy apple fritters, which, by the way, were fantastic and ALMOST beat the Belgian waffle. Almost, not quite. Maybe I’m just prejudice. God knows how we managed to order what we wanted. When else will I get the chance to use my second language to talk to a salesman in their second language? Dinner was interesting. We had the typical German meal, A plate of soggy cabbage and mustard with ham. YUCK. For once, I wasn’t the only one who found the meal repulsive.
(Germany)
After returning to the Hotel, I hit the sacks for a real nights sleep. We stayed just over the border in the German part of Belgium, which is only 5% of the country. Thankfully we were there with a baby or else it we probably wouldn’t have been in until two. I’m not kidding either, after rotary dinners I get home at one. My birthday dinner ended at three AM. I was falling asleep and my future 8 year old host sisters were awake as ever. Dinner parties can end anywhere between 12:30 and morning, depending on the size and amount of alcohol involved. They are pretty much all alcoholics, by American standards. Anyways, we woke up at nine and went down for out continental breakfast. American hotels should really learn from this, we had a huge buffet full of five kinds of homemade bread, croissants, everything. And it was all baked that morning. All this for our two families and an older couple that were staying there. I had my first good scrambled eggs since I’ve been here. The host knew that we were a party of French speakers, but I don’t think he knew that Kaitlyn and I weren’t because he kept speaking to us in French (everyone here learns Dutch, French, and English, which is the most important for them). I think he thought we were talking slower to make sure he understood, really that’s just how we speak French. It was fun. Again, I got to use my second language to communicate with someone in their second language.
Then we headed off for what they told us would be a “walk.” First we stopped at the highest point in Belgium. Its actually 695 meters, but there was a 5 meter set of stairs to make it seven hundred. As Louie said, only Belgium would do something as pointless as that. Well, Sunday we didn’t have the pleasure of sun. In fact, we had the worst weather there has been all winter. The wind was strong enough to push me over and it was pouring. I was not dressed for this weather. We took a 45 minute walk on a boardwalk over the marshes. I thought the wind was going to push me off. The rain was blowing straight into my face and I thought my bones were going to freeze into ice. Afterwards we went and ate and my feet were soaked, and the rain had somehow gotten through my two jackets and 3 shirts and sweater and scarf. It was miserable. We all had soup. Mushroom soup. The only kind of soup that I despise. Oh, and it was quality soup, as in there were huge mushrooms floating around in it. I thought I was going to be sick. Well, we finally took off and I spent the 3 hour car ride squished in the middle of Kaitlyn reading, and Louie’s sick wife who groaned the whole way home. Oh, it was marvelous.
(Highest Point in Belgium)
1 comment:
The greatest desire of a cultural anthropologist is to meld into another culture so that he or she might truly see through the eyes of a member of that culture. In doing so, understand how and why the values and beliefs have evolved in the unique combination. Unfortunately this is not possible because the observer brings his or her own cultural standards that can never be completely escaped.
If the observer is open to new ideas, he or she will find a wonderful kaleidoscope of cultural differences which, in the beginning, are fresh and perhaps even a welcome change from the norm. However, in time, the novelty wears thin. Even Dorothy, after running away from Kansas, living her adventure in the ‘merry ol’ land of Oz, exclaimed “There’s no place like home”. In the end, this may be the most important reason to travel. That we might return home with a greater appreciation for that which we too often take for granted.
I feel the most profound effect from immersion in a foreign culture is the subtle change that the observer goes through. Often it is as simple as the adoption or rejection of cultural traditions which he or she is exposed to, or possibly the reinforcement or rejection of previously held beliefs. This evolution can happen so subtly that the observer doesn’t recognize it and yet the change can be profound. Once the observer returns to his or her home cultural environment it become evident that the world is viewed from a different perspective.
An Odor to Remember
The sense of smell is the first sense to biologically develop. The hippocampus is located in the lower brain cavity and is responsible for processing memories and emotions. The close arrangement of the olfactory organs and the hippocampus is the reason odors, sometimes mistaken as tastes, produce strong memory recall. In order for a memory to be transferred into long-term memory storage, it must be associated with strong emotion. So what does all this mean? It means that throughout your life, whenever you smell a waffle, the memories of this year in Belgium will return to you. When you smell mushroom soup you may well recall how the hot soup warmed that feeling of being cold to the bone. When you taste an apple fritter you will quite likely think of Christmas in Germany.
In the words of Rosalind Russell; “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death”. You are fortunate to be sitting at a wonderful banquet table, eat well and enjoy.
Jeff
PS – In reference to your German street signs. On a German cruise ship, a friend and I went into the parlor to pass some time playing a board game. We selected Scrabble. Needless to say I have never seen so many consonants and so few vowels. We had to give up playing because we could not make any words.
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