Foreign Experiences

Things have been pretty busy this past week, so I haven't had time to post as much as I would like. I'm trying to get all of this down so I don't forget anything.  I have a bit of time now, so I might have to do a few posts. :)


First, my day off.
My day off was right after Kayla's, so I went into it pretty exhausted. I got to sleep into 10:00, which was glorious. (Let me just say, I don't think I have ever appreciated sleep as much as I do right now.) I took my sweet time getting ready, partly just enjoying the time to do so and partly out of nervousness from the prospects of wandering around by myself. I ate a late lunch and tried to find somewhere in particular to go, but then decided I was stalling and decided to just walk out the door.


Once out of the house I let out a sigh, telling myself that it was not going to be as bad as I thought and telling myself, "Hey! You are in freaking Belgium, even if you don't see anything too exciting, it will still be in BELGIUM. So, just march young lady!" And I did march. For almost four hours and almost six miles.

I ended up walking around almost the entire village. Ooops. 

It wasn't as much fun as it would have been with someone else (ex. my sister), but it was great to get some exercise and see more of the area. I feel a little crazy though, when I am out and about by myself. I mutter to myself a lot when I don't have someone to talk to and feel super conspicuous. I think even more so here, because I don't speak the language. The longest phrase I have learned thus far is "Je suis désolé. Je ne parle pas français." Which means "I'm sorry, I don't speak French." (I just had to google how to spell it, by the way.) Even simpler things, like Merci, and Bonjour, just polite little phrases like that are not sticking well, because when I am in a situation to say them I think of the Spanish words first. And I hardly know any Spanish. Ridiculousness. Stupide américain! (or estúpido americano...) 

Anyhoo, I walked in one direction, knowing generally which direction I was going, but then ended up at a traffic circle with so many choices of where to go, I just decided go to the Genval Cimetière because there was a sign for it and between the word and the tiny symbol by it, I knew what it meant. (And that has great value these days. Knowing the meaning of words, that is.)

So you are about to be assaulted with pictures of a Belgian Cemetery, because really, if you end up in a Cemetery in a foreign country, you might as well document the experience, right? 

I suppose it was quite different than any cemetery I have ever seen before, so that's something...

Next, I went round the cemetery and found a lovely wall, so naturally I took a rest in the shade and snapped a few pictures of myself leaning wistfully against said wall, as people are usually inclined to do.

  After those melancholy and stationary photos, of course I needed a happy walking picture, so here it is:

Happy AND walking. What a combination. 

 Even Belgium has dumpy looking places.

 The rare, hot sunshine.

 Entrance to the cemetery. I had to double back to go towards home again. 

 A lovely home that I liked on my walk.

I walked down a random dirt path and found this lovely field (below). 

Not sure where I am at this point

 After I came out from this dirt road, I knew generally where I was and it was quite far from where I had started. I saw a grocery store, so I went in to look around and get something to eat as I was quite hungry by that point. It was probably the low point of my expedition. I walked around the whole time feeling like someone was going to find out that I was not a native and scorn me or something, and I hadn't done anything super stupid yet, so I was just waiting for that moment to happen.


When I gathered all my goodies and plucked up the courage to get in line I felt increasingly conspicuous as I heard all the French around me. I put my basket in the wrong place and a man said something to me and placed it in the right spot, in a stack of baskets right in front of my feet. I had picked the wrong grocery bag and the lady at the register tried to explain this to me. I don't know why I don't immediately say that I can't speak French instead of standing there looking dumb and trying to figure out what people are saying, as if it will magically start translating in my brain. I finally got it and loudly exclaimed, "oh, OH!" like the loud American that I am. After realizing how loud and dumb I just sounded, my flustered factor greatly increased and as soon I was done with my transaction, after saying my "merci's" of course, I booked it out of the closest door. As it happens, they were the wrong doors, which I figured out as soon as I stepped down the odd step and swung the door back behind me, all while moving out as quick as I could, so I didn't notice until several long strides away that it was not and automatic door, it did not shut all the way, and it was most likely the door they open for loading and unloading. When I was about a third of the parking lot away, someone shouted out something in French and closed the door emphatically. Oh, dear. I suppose it could have been worse.


I kept walking and found the little path that my sister and I had discovered on our first walk out, so I sat down to enjoy my awkwardly bought spoils. I got a baguette and some lunch meat for a good snack and some Belgian Wafels for a treat.

 Wafels. Yum.

Walking past the Schweppes factory 

Wondering if I'll ever make it home

Thankful for a familiar sight!

Relaxing by the Lac 

The best chocolate I've ever had in my life. 

This is the house next door. It is vacant and falling apart. I have wanted to brake in and look through the house and feel like Nancy Drew every time I see it. 

So, that was my day. Despite all the mishaps I really did enjoy it. Especially since we ended the evening with Downton Abbey!!!!