First Letter Home

So here's the first letter I wrote home, it's really long and only recounts the first couple days I think, I'll put some pictures up too.

Yep, it's me, everbody's favourite estranged exchange student, that guy in Belgium, also known as Andrew. So I figured it was about time I wrote all of you an e-mail to let you know what's been happening since I got here, there's been a lot, and in what has seemed like a very short time span.

So I'll get right to it, I arrived on the 20th of August here in Belgium after about 24 hours of travelling, and then after another half an hour of wandering around the Brussels airport after getting my luggage (it got there okay, I was so relieved) I finally found my way through the doors where everyone was waiting for arrivals, my first host mother and brother included. It was overwhelming to say the least, one minute I was casually pulling my things along totally content and then the next I was being asked questions in rapid-fire French and having to think and respond with what little mental alertness I still possessed. It started when my host mother starting yelling my name in the crowd and waving, I didn't recognize her, but luckily she was with my host brother who I did recognize as I had been speaking with him for some time previous to that. Next she came to greet me with a big bisou (the little kiss of the air next to someone's cheek) and naturally being a North American male I recoiled and gave her a strange look, which she found greatly amusing. The three of us then piled my stuff into their little Volks Wagon Golf (nope, no pickups here) and started the one-hour drive from Brussels to Liège, Belgium's third largest city and the place I currently call home.

In the car my host mother offered me iced tea and gum but I didn't really want anything, so she said I could go to sleep to which I, the guy who didn't know when to quit and needed to see everything the first day said, "No no, I'm fine" (in French of course). I got about ten minutes before I was out like a baby in a stroller oblivious to evertything happening around. When I woke up my host mother told me that we were in Liège (I was so disoriented she could have told me we were anywhere and I would have had to take her word for it), and shortly thereafter we pulled up at the house/restaurant of my first host family, the D'Ippolito's.

The first person to greet me at the house was my host father Paolo (the one I said looks like Super Mario), he was wearing (what I have come to know as) his usual striped pants and white chefs tunic, he too greeted me with a big bisou (which I was more prepared for) and a handshake, and a big grin. The thing about Paolo is that he is a big guy, he has a deep voice and a big moustache, he owns and runs his restaurant and he's the president of the Rotary club here, so he came of as a little intimidating at first, but I realized soon after meeting him that he was going to be alright when his first act as my host father was to inviting me in for a beer, in true Belgian fashion. I was only actually at my house the first day for a couple of hours, their daughter Aurelia who is the same age as me was leaving for Chiliwack the next day, so we had arranged ahead of time for me to stay at Marie-O's until tuesday after she had left and the family had time to prepare to recieve me properly. In those two hours though I literally met my entire extended host family, including the parents of my host dad (who are currently in Sicile at their house there where I have been invited to stay for a week in July, I had to include that, it's so amazing), my host dad's brother Serge, Aurelia, their oldest son Samuel and his fiance, and probably some others I don't remember because it was so much.

So after preparing a bag and relaxing with some pizza prepared by my host dad Marie-O arrived with her father Charlie and we left for her house in the south of Belgium, about another hour's drive which I was determined to stay awake for but again only managed to last until we were on the highway. That night we met Marie-O's mother Nadine and her younger sister Clotilde at a café in the little historical town of Bastogne (it was apparent immediately when the vehicle in the parking space next to us was a WWII Sherman tank), I was treated to another beer and a delicious Belgian dish similar to scalloped potatoes with bacon and cheese (similar, except that they put beer on top, who'd have guessed) and afterwards we went to see the American war memorial there which is huge and we were able to go on top where there's telescopes, though they weren't much use to us. Anyways, we went back to Marie-O's house and they set up a bed to me which I was happy for, I slept about 12 hours that night, I would have slept more but we had to get up early the next day to go to Luxembourg city.

Luxembourg city is weird because it's almost like it's too good to be true, it's not like the city where I'm living, there's nothing in disrepair, there's no homeless people, and everyone wears suits and drives Range Rovers (although there was the one universal European fault which is careless owners letting their dogs do their business on the sidewalks and not cleaning it up so that someone inevitably steps in it, seriously, you have to watch your step everywhere you go here). We did a walking tour, there's a beautiful river running through the lower level of the city and all along it perfect gardens maintained by the city, and a bridge dating back several hundreds of years with historical information plaques in every language immaginable decribing the origins of everything around. Later we went into the upper part of the city where we stopped for a beer before heading to the Casemates, a huge sytem of tunnels dug out as a defensive position in a cliff overlooking the lower part of the city where cannons were once placed and a garrison stayed. It was awfully interesting, and to think they did it without any of the modern machines was impressive (though then you just think of Europe's history and you know it was probably done with slaves so it's a bit tainted that way). The whole system goes on for some way and descends downward to another level as you progress further, and it's all underground to it's quite humid and damp and when you combine that with stone steps that are hundreds of years old and an inquisitive exchange student admiring the funny green stuff on the wall you wind up with sore tailbone and a nearly broken wrist. Yes, that was my round-about way of telling you I fell down the stairs and hurt myself, it was to get worse though, as afterwards I found it particulary hard to breath the humid air and wound up blacking out, coming too a few seconds later cold and confused, my mind decided at that point that the best thing for my body to do was to start running to get out of the caves, so that's what I did, with Marie-O and her family chasing me I made my way to the upper level where I could get fresh air, nearly falling twice more in the process, and in places that would have been much more dangerous. After that ordeal and a rest break we got some lunch, oddly enough no beer that time though. We spent a couple more hours walking around after that before deciding to head back to Marie-O's house where we watched Madagascar in French. That night I was happy to relax and have another full night's sleep, as the next day my real exchange commenced as I was officially beginning my stay at chez D'Ippolito.

My house here as I mentioned doubles as a restaurant, well, not like you would think of a restaurant, people don't come for lunch and drinks, they host huge banquets and wedding receptions and such, so anyways in looks from the outside like I look in a mansion, but really it's a nice humble home with the majority of the space being occupied by large dining rooms and two kitchens on two levels. I spent the rest of the month there learning my way around and getting settled, doing stuff with my host parents and host brother, adjusting to the time difference and the new language. Included in that time was an orientation weekend for my district and a trip to Brussels to visit the Royal Palace and the Senate with all the exchange students in Belgium, around 300 I think. There's certainly a lot to be said about those trips too but I'll save those stories for the next time I decide to sit down and write.

For now my life has assumed a nice routine, including school, which is going fine, that is, the kids are all nice and speak to me and I'm having fun in my classes, it's certainly not the same as in Canada though as I'm not really expected to do work at this point and I have no objections to living up to that expectation. I'm so busy as it is, I have no idea how I'm going to pull it off when I can't say I didn't understand anymore (it's actually not always the truth that I didn't understand as it is, in fact my French is coming along nicely, unlike some of the exchange students here who have no desire to learn to speak French but are rather here to drink and party and take advantage of Belgium's proximity to Holland and it's abundant... liberalness), but for now I'm not worrying about it that much because it's the first time in my life I've ever been able to do that. It's kind of funny, I talk about having it easy here for the moment but in actuality I have more hours of class a week than I ever did in Canada, and I have a drastically reduced schedule, the serious students here have around 36 hours of classes a week. In my free time I occasionally get to see Marie-O, she is studying here in the city so every so often we can meet which is nice to see a friend when other times it can be a bit lonely, the weekends especially, but I'm doing a good time staving off boredom in those times by playing soccer and helping my host father in the kitchen (it's okay Moira I'm not actually working, I do simple stuff and I'm not obliged to be there ;-) ).

The coming months are going to hold a lot of adventure, including a trip to Paris at the beginning of November, so I should have more to write home about and I'll also try and do a better job of writing more often and I'll get some pics up on my blog soon I promise. In the meantime if you have any questions for me or want to see pictures or want to try and get in my good books to have some chocolate shipped your way (this stuff is divine, I have to be careful, I'm doing good so far though, no Rotary 30), then by all means write me an e-mail, I'd be happy to write back and it's always nicer when you sign on to msn to see that you have new messages. To Moira I'd be interested to know how Paula from Poland is fairing and also who the exchange student is this year for the morning club, and then I suppose later I should also like to get in contact with next year's outbound.

I think that ought to do it for this time though, I wish I could write about everything but that'd be tough, fortunately though I'm doing a good job of taking lots of pictures so they'll be able to fill in the gaps later. Oh dear look at the time it's nearly 10:30, I'll be going now then, thanks for reading and your replies are always welcome, à bientôt. -Andrew