Wir sind jetzt in Deutschland. We're in Germany now. Unfortunately, Allie is sick with food poisoning (we think). She's been trying to get as much rest as possible in order to feel better. Hopefully everything will be right as rain tomorrow.
Speaking of rain, it's been doing that a lot lately. AND IT SNOWS! It snowed last week in Brussels, a little bit when we were in Paris, and there was a bit on the ground as we traveled through Germany yesterday. (German kezboards switch the y and z)
I won't bother trying to catch up on all that's been going on lately (only to write a whole post about bikes). Let me describe the goings-on in Germany...
Sandra met us at the train station, although I definitely didn't recognize her at first. Her hair is much shorter than mine now (like it was when she lived in Barcelona). Anton and Tobi were waiting for us at the apartment when we arrived here.
Anton ist gross! That means big, not disgusting. At 10 months of age, he crawls around the apartment exploring everything like a little detective. Apparently he prefers females, something undoubtedly learned from his father. Part of his detective work included a thorough search of Allie's chest, which continued even after I assured him there was no milk to be had there. With the support of a chair or table, he can stand on his little feet. Vacuum cleaners fascinate him.
A couple days have past since I started this post. Now I’m on the metro back in Brussels heading back to my apartment. On the tram a few moments ago a little girl was incessantly whining because she couldn’t beat a level of the game "Madagascar" for her Nintendo DS. She and her grandfather were speaking a jumble of English, German, and Russian. At one point she almost started crying, and he asked her how old she was, and did she really want everyone in the tram to think she was a big baby. Then the man took the DS, saying he was going to sell it to this guy (me). I offered twenty euros for it. “No!” she yelled. I left as grandpa was unsuccessfully attempting to beat the level for her.
Anywho back to the Germany things. Unfortunately Allie got food poisoning and was unable to do much beyond lie in bed and eat rice cakes for the duration of our stay. Saturday she was able to accompany me to the market, and Sunday she made it to Sandra and Tobi’s garden for a few hours. It seems like the hardest part of being sick for her was that she could not eat any of the tasty foods Muenster had to offer. (She did get to taste a dessert that we brought back on the train to Brussels, in spite of the fact that she was paranoid it had spoiled along the way and she would get sick again.)
The things that Allie missed out on were pretty fun. DJ Tobi was in the house at fyal (fuck you art lovers, a Muenster café). His set was mostly techno and house, with a little more pop/mainstream towards the end of the night to appease the barman.
Earlier that day there was plenty of work to be done in their garden. Sandra and Tobi rented a van to haul away trash. A couple from baby birthing class came along to help. I was on Anton duty. We had a small barbecue after the various jobs were taken care of.
The garden plots are owned by the city, and rented. Each plot has a tiny house just big enough to store equipment and hold keggers. There's a community of them, these garden plots. Almost a development of gardens. And in any development, you invariably are forced to put up with some interesting neighbors.
The garden nazi. Tobias gave him the moniker, although I suppose Jerry Seinfeld and I should share the credit. The first time I met Tobi last year, Sandra and I had been watching episodes of Seinfeld nonstop. We explained the episode The Soup Nazi to him. He wanted to know what kind of nazi he was. Based on Tobi's contempt for H&M clothing and any music not techno, he became the Music and Fashion Nazi.
In the year since I left, the nazi nomenclature was still in full force. The garden neighbor was upset because the husband friend from baby birthing class moved a bike from the path so that the van could pass. And besides that, when this man wanted to bring a car into the community (for similar reasons) 5 years ago, his request was denied. Garden Nazi yelled all of this while shaking his garden nazi fist in the air. Allie slept in the apartment :(
28 March 2008
21 March 2008
Amsterdam, Part I: Bikes
Well! I certainly have been slacking. I have a lot of work ahead of me to catch you up on places I've visited in the past few weeks: Amsterdam (twice), Luxembourg, The Hague, and Delft. Plus a couple stories from around Brussels during my lovely red-haired counterpart's visit.
To keep things interesting and to help out the visual learners out there, I'll organize my posts around the pictures I have. I accumulated a nice little collection of bicycle pictures while in Amsterdam, so let's start with that.
The Dutch love their bicycles. According to Wikipedia (but without a source cited, so it could be a lie), there are around 700,000 of them in Amsterdam. The city government encourages the bike culture by creating bike paths everywhere and charging high prices for parking cars. There is also a gigantic bike parking garage next to the central train station, so that people can take the train into the city, pick up their wheels, and ride to work.
Perhaps to make picking their own bikes out of a crowd a little easier, people do a lot of customizing. Sometimes it's practical: big wooden wagons attached to the front or back for hauling around groceries, dogs, and miscellany; up to three child seats for picking up the kiddies from Sue's house; little baskets for transporting tulips; and of course a bell or horn for frightening the tourists. Other times, though, it's just pretty: artificial flowers woven through the frame, hand-painted designs or just a good coat of spray paint, and streamers, beads, or other girly embellishments.
Amsterdam has more than 1200 bridges over its oodles of little and big canals, and they are prime bike-parking spots. I'm not sure I can think of anything more charming than this.
As if they weren't already environmentally friendly enough, people in Amsterdam also find uses for dilapidated old bikes past their cycling life. Often times they hold signs for little boutiques, markets, and galleries.
My favorite reincarnated bike, though, was a planter outside someone's house. Note the litterbox full of daffodils: the "Kitty WC."
All of this leads quite nicely into my next post, which I'll try to write from Paris tomorrow: Amsterdam, Part II: Flowers, Art, and Other Pretty Things.
(For more bike pictures, check out my album.)
To keep things interesting and to help out the visual learners out there, I'll organize my posts around the pictures I have. I accumulated a nice little collection of bicycle pictures while in Amsterdam, so let's start with that.
The Dutch love their bicycles. According to Wikipedia (but without a source cited, so it could be a lie), there are around 700,000 of them in Amsterdam. The city government encourages the bike culture by creating bike paths everywhere and charging high prices for parking cars. There is also a gigantic bike parking garage next to the central train station, so that people can take the train into the city, pick up their wheels, and ride to work.
Perhaps to make picking their own bikes out of a crowd a little easier, people do a lot of customizing. Sometimes it's practical: big wooden wagons attached to the front or back for hauling around groceries, dogs, and miscellany; up to three child seats for picking up the kiddies from Sue's house; little baskets for transporting tulips; and of course a bell or horn for frightening the tourists. Other times, though, it's just pretty: artificial flowers woven through the frame, hand-painted designs or just a good coat of spray paint, and streamers, beads, or other girly embellishments.
Amsterdam has more than 1200 bridges over its oodles of little and big canals, and they are prime bike-parking spots. I'm not sure I can think of anything more charming than this.
As if they weren't already environmentally friendly enough, people in Amsterdam also find uses for dilapidated old bikes past their cycling life. Often times they hold signs for little boutiques, markets, and galleries.
My favorite reincarnated bike, though, was a planter outside someone's house. Note the litterbox full of daffodils: the "Kitty WC."
All of this leads quite nicely into my next post, which I'll try to write from Paris tomorrow: Amsterdam, Part II: Flowers, Art, and Other Pretty Things.
(For more bike pictures, check out my album.)
16 March 2008
15 March 2008
How to Patronize the Arts
I know, I know. It's been a while. But we've been busy. Amsterdam, midterms, Lucy, Luxembourg...
Next week is sure to be eventful as well. On Tuesday we'll be at the theater for a production of Robespierre, a play that Allie's French class read. Wednesday I'm going to a football match between Anderlecht and Beker-Coupe and Thursday we're going to The Hague, Netherlands with our program.
The title of this post refers to all the artisticness surrounding the Amsterdam trip and my day trip to Antwerp with Gino. Soon I'll write about that, but first let me try to make up for the recent lack of posts by taking you on a little photo tour of my area.
Gino with one of his first "sons" and the son's family.
Sitting room at Christmas (just before I arrived).
The famous dining room table where we eat every night. Decorated in this picture during Christmas.
This is my metro stop. They just filled the fountainage with water. It makes me happy because it is pretty and also because that means it should be warming up a bit.
Spitting animals. This is also the church famous because there is a designated place to pee on the side of it, which is really convenient for all the drunks and bar hoppers. One place that you don't have to pay ,30 euro cents to pee. No picture of that for obvious reasons.
View of St. Catherine and fountainage right when you exit the metro.
Saint Catherine is dirty.
Here's where we can stop on the walk home if you'd like to join me for champagne and caviar at Mer du Nord's outdoor bar.
My street boasts many restaurants that make me wish the dollar didn't drastically dwindle dinner druthers. The orange sign stage right is for the Thai resto where Allie and I ate during our first visit to the area.
Here is the view you would see if you ate sting ray with Gino and me one night. FLU POWER FLU is a work of modern art commisioned by the beurs theater. The piece was the subject of a 15 minute Gino rant on how history repeats itself, etc. As you might expect, the sign is always lit. Translation: FLOW POWER FLOW.
This one needs some explanation. This view is funnier at night when both places are more busy. On the right, you'll see people slurping up and wolfing down McDonald's (aka Macdo). To the left, the business crowd lounges in the Marriott hotel, sipping cocktails and congratulating themselves on how wonderful they are. (See me in the window?)
The stock exchange (Bourse). Gino works at a building in this square.
Different view of Bourse.
Splurge on the room and skimp on the board.
I'd take you this direction if you wanted to see a movie. Can you make out the Coca Cola sign in the middle of the picture? It's pretty big in person.
Fritland is a cure-all for drunchies and munchies. They have frites and (if you're more hungy) sandwiches with frites piled on top. Mmmm.
Yes, please.
I was stupidly heteronormative and didn't even realize this is a gay bar.
That Homo sapien invaded my picture, seemingly to complete the evolution of man.
Here's the big thing set up in the Grand Place where Gino's royal society will put on costumes to pretend they are their ancestors. It is going to be on TV. Hopefully someone YouTubes it and I'll postya the link.
Royal people in the Grand Place
I caught them waving flags around, but not in costume.
Next week is sure to be eventful as well. On Tuesday we'll be at the theater for a production of Robespierre, a play that Allie's French class read. Wednesday I'm going to a football match between Anderlecht and Beker-Coupe and Thursday we're going to The Hague, Netherlands with our program.
The title of this post refers to all the artisticness surrounding the Amsterdam trip and my day trip to Antwerp with Gino. Soon I'll write about that, but first let me try to make up for the recent lack of posts by taking you on a little photo tour of my area.
Gino with one of his first "sons" and the son's family.
Sitting room at Christmas (just before I arrived).
The famous dining room table where we eat every night. Decorated in this picture during Christmas.
This is my metro stop. They just filled the fountainage with water. It makes me happy because it is pretty and also because that means it should be warming up a bit.
Spitting animals. This is also the church famous because there is a designated place to pee on the side of it, which is really convenient for all the drunks and bar hoppers. One place that you don't have to pay ,30 euro cents to pee. No picture of that for obvious reasons.
View of St. Catherine and fountainage right when you exit the metro.
Saint Catherine is dirty.
Here's where we can stop on the walk home if you'd like to join me for champagne and caviar at Mer du Nord's outdoor bar.
My street boasts many restaurants that make me wish the dollar didn't drastically dwindle dinner druthers. The orange sign stage right is for the Thai resto where Allie and I ate during our first visit to the area.
Here is the view you would see if you ate sting ray with Gino and me one night. FLU POWER FLU is a work of modern art commisioned by the beurs theater. The piece was the subject of a 15 minute Gino rant on how history repeats itself, etc. As you might expect, the sign is always lit. Translation: FLOW POWER FLOW.
This one needs some explanation. This view is funnier at night when both places are more busy. On the right, you'll see people slurping up and wolfing down McDonald's (aka Macdo). To the left, the business crowd lounges in the Marriott hotel, sipping cocktails and congratulating themselves on how wonderful they are. (See me in the window?)
The stock exchange (Bourse). Gino works at a building in this square.
Different view of Bourse.
Splurge on the room and skimp on the board.
I'd take you this direction if you wanted to see a movie. Can you make out the Coca Cola sign in the middle of the picture? It's pretty big in person.
Fritland is a cure-all for drunchies and munchies. They have frites and (if you're more hungy) sandwiches with frites piled on top. Mmmm.
Yes, please.
I was stupidly heteronormative and didn't even realize this is a gay bar.
That Homo sapien invaded my picture, seemingly to complete the evolution of man.
Here's the big thing set up in the Grand Place where Gino's royal society will put on costumes to pretend they are their ancestors. It is going to be on TV. Hopefully someone YouTubes it and I'll postya the link.
Royal people in the Grand Place
I caught them waving flags around, but not in costume.
10 March 2008
How to Free Tibet
RIP Calle.
Know how I mentioned kicking a soccer ball into the Chinese Embassy's garden? Well I am at work and there is a big Free Tibet protest in front of our building. From the kitchen, I could hear shouting coming from somewhere. Everyone tried to convince me I was hearing things, but it turned out to be lots of angry protesters.
Sorry for the slowdown in posts. Any percieved correlation between going to Amsterdam and less posting should be discounted. I'll write somefin soon...
Know how I mentioned kicking a soccer ball into the Chinese Embassy's garden? Well I am at work and there is a big Free Tibet protest in front of our building. From the kitchen, I could hear shouting coming from somewhere. Everyone tried to convince me I was hearing things, but it turned out to be lots of angry protesters.
Sorry for the slowdown in posts. Any percieved correlation between going to Amsterdam and less posting should be discounted. I'll write somefin soon...
09 March 2008
Goodbye, pretty girl.
Don't you hear it? she asked & I shook my head no & then she started to dance & suddenly there was music everywhere & it went on for a very long time & when I finally found words all I could say was thank you. [Brian Andreas]
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