...The End

Well, it seems that it's been a long, long time since I last posted here. As with so many things in life my regular blog posting well, wasn't. That's okay, though. I think I've shared a good deal on here of my trip and life in Belgium and now that I'm back in the U.S. I can share the stories with my friends and family face-to-face and I have to say, being able to see and be with my friends in family is wonderful.

My remaining time in Belgium was fine, but by late March and then April I was ready to come back home. The trip was a success: I did get a good deal of research done for my dissertation, was able to narrow my topic and focus what I wanted to write about, and I got to experience living overseas for an extended period of time. Of course, I wish somethings went differently, but that's the past and now it's time to look forward and take the experiences -- good and bad, but mostly good -- that I had an put them to work for me in my professional and personal life.

Being away made me realize just how much I need my friends and family. It's lonely being away, especially when the work you do is a lonely task like research. Now that I'm back the challenge is to find the proper work/life balance. I hope that by being in Brooklyn I can more easily do that. I'll be able to see Carly each day and have day-to-day routine with her. As my friends have spread out around the country and as I am now a friend who's left the nest of CT I hope to focus my work energy better so I can then take trips to see friends in CT, PA, VA, and elsewhere. I'm also going to get to reconnect with some college friends who are here in New York. And, of course, my family on LI, NJ, and PA are now closer. I also hope to catch up with family from FL and CA -- if we can coordinate our schedules!

Now that I'm back and have had some time to settle in, I do miss my Belgian life and think I now appreciate it even more. I miss the pace of life. Even though I was in a big city, things moved a bit slower. Not so, here in Brooklyn. The food, of course, was always awesome and I had my little routine. Of course, now I get to set a new one and, I hope, incorporate aspects of what I did overseas into what I do here -- taking Sundays as a day of real rest, for instance.

Once I got back I was thrown into wonderful celebrations: a childhood friend got married on LI, a good friend from grad school got married in NOLA, and a good friend from college got married in TN. After exploring Europe, I got to come home and explore the South for a bit with Carly and friends in NOLA, Carly's family and some friends in ATL on a stop over, and then in TN. It was tiring, but fun to see part of my own country I don't see much right after being away. I'm simply used to the NYC area and I love it, but being in Europe and then hanging in the South made me realize for the first time that I really don't need to live in New York or even the north east. A different setting and pace of life is something that I'd be happy to try out now as I move forward with my career and with my relationship with Carly and our friends and family.

I'd like to think my trip helped me grow a lot or, at least, a bit. I could have worked harder over there, I could have "let things from back home go" more, I could have, I could have, I could have....but I can't dwell on those things. From where I sit in my new home in Brooklyn, surrounded by my books and papers, old and new knic-knacks, and new goals set in my mind, life is good and I know now more than before that life is hard work, but that there are a lot of moments and experiences in it that make the work worth it. If nothing else, I gained perspective on a lot of things from the fact that I love research, but I love teaching and working with students more because I missed it so much; that I like my time alone and to myself, but I'm a social creature who enjoys the company of others; that if your kind and patient, others will be kind and patient with you even if you're an outsider, an "other."

I lived my life in the Low Countries and I survived and made a home for myself there and now it's time to do the same here. If one thing is for sure, I can do whatever I set out to do and I have wonderful friends and family who can and do support me.

So, I'll end this emotive post and blog with a thank you to all who have read it and who listened to my ups and downs. I'm back home now and ready to live my life to the fullest. I'll miss the beer, the fries, the waffles, and the stoemp, the people I met there -- thanks SC and EC and JK among others -- but now it's time to take what I've learned about the past and about myself and work hard to move forward with my life here. Times are good and I'll back to Belgium, I'm sure.

43 days...

AHHHH. So, I have 43 days left on this trip and I'm in freakout mode. It's the good kind. The kind that forces you to work. I'll admit I was very leisurely with my research since I had so much time, but now I know I don't have much left so it's time to really, really focus and with things sorted out for my teaching and living situation for next year, a better sense of what the focus and structure -- Chapter wise -- of my dissertation is I can really put my efforts back into my work.

Of course, I'm so ready to be back home with friends and family, to spend quality time with Carly -- not just Skype time -- and be able to look at books and records I've collected back in the US.

Now I just have to pin point better what I need to look at in the archive and then zero in on that stuff. It's not hard and now my French is much better so I can get through things a lot easier. I just hope I've "done enough" 'cause I don't know when I'll get back here.

Now I just have to think of this not as the end of an 8 month trip, but a 6 week research trip. That'll focus the mind.

Carnaval in Binche, Belgium

Okay, so sometimes I like to wait a while before I post. Not this time because what I'm going to share here was an adventure and the hassle was worth it for what I saw in Binche, Belgium to celebrate Mardi Gras.

So, since the 14th century, the small Walloon town of Binche has had a unique Carnaval celebration. In 2003 it was named a "Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity" by UNESCO. Not known for much else, Binche does Carnaval right and takes it very seriously. Starting at 4am or so, the Gilles -- about 1,000 or so men and boys -- begin to rouse their fellow Gilles and the town by marching around, banging drums, waving straw, ringing bells, and stomping their wooden shoes. They also start drinking around 6am.

In the morning there is a parade from the train station to the center of town -- the City Hall -- where all the Gilles wear their costume and masks that represent the sameness of everyone before God. (This is in part a religious and harvest celebration.) Once they reach the center of the city they take off their masks and mill around until 3:30pm.

At 3:30pm the parade begins. The Gilles put on these huge ostrich feather plumed hats, carry baskets full of blood oranges, and throw them into -- and at-- the crowd. The older kids, of course, throw them really hard, so many stores and homes put metal grates over their windows to protect the glass. The oranges represent wealth (gold) and are signs of good luck and prosperity for the coming spring. You *never* throw an orange back. The Gilles get testy. (And, they are carrying bundles of straw with which the could, if they wanted to channel "Black Pete" from St. Nicholas' Day, beat a person with.)

The Gilles I talked to (see picture above) told me that he'd been doing this for 40 years. He was going to do it for 10 more years so he could "retire" after 50 years and get the chance to participate as a Gilles in Carnaval with his son and grandson. The tradition is passed down on the male side of families. As for the traditions: they stomp their wooden shoes to "break winter." They wave the straw and ring the bells to tell winter to "go home" and to let the new and warm spring come in. And then the drums began to sound and he was off....

The parade lasts a long while and lots and lots of oranges are thrown and handed out. Belgians come with bags and fill them to the brim! I got a bunch myself, both on the fly and also handed to me. At one point I must have zoned out -- it's all a little overwhelming and the travel to Binche (as I'll explain in a moment) was difficult -- and was just staring at the whole thing when I realized that a young Gilles, maybe 8 or 9, was standing in front of me with an orange, saying take it. After I took it and said "merci" he just smiled and walked off to throw the rest of his oranges. Just really sweet. (Juxtaposed with the obnoxious gentleman to my right who kept yelling at people to move so he could take pictures and gather oranges from any and every Gilles he could nab.)

The festival goes on into the night with fireworks, but I and my Iranian friend (more on that in a second) had to leave around 6pm because of train issues....

So, getting there. Sadly, on Monday, there was a terrible train accident just outside of Brussels that has killed at least 18 and injured around 90 people. Train service has been really messed up all over Belgium and in France, the Netherlands, and even in Germany and England. Brussels is a major transportation hub. So, I knew today would be a little difficult.....

I got to Midi Station and got my ticket. Didn't see the train I needed posted so I asked and was told to take a train headed to the town of Charleroi and change trains in a town called Luttre. Okay, can do.

Well, I get to Luttre with a whole bunch of other people bound for Binche, including a very nice Iranian woman who speaks only Farsi and a little bit of English. At Luttre we all depart and wait. Then we're told, to get back on the Charleroi train, but not really told why. Just that we *should.* So I get on the train and happen across this Iranian woman. We'll call her MN who is having a hell of a time asking people what's going on. I manage to explain what the deal is and we end up sitting together and embark on a travel journey to Binche.

Once we get to Charleroi -- an old coal mining and metalworks town that is not on the upswing -- we are told that there are no trains -- none at all -- going to Binche or any town connecting to Binche. We have to take a bus. Fine. So MN and I and people dressed in face paint and balloon animal hats head toward the info booth for buses where they have....one person working. Yes, this is Europe. Yes this is the Latin part of Belgium. In the small info booth we hear English, French, Dutch, Farsi, Italian, Spanish, and many other languages and finally get our tram and bus ticket.

We board Tram 89 and head for the destination Andalouse. MN and I sit down and are facing this nice older couple. Hearing me speak English, the husband starts to give us the skinny on the tram ride. "It's going to take a half hour on the tram. Then we get on the bus. But all of this is worth one hour in Binche." It's obvious he and his wife have done this trip before. Now MN is zoned out, so I keep going with the conversation, especially since the husband was very proud to tell me that he learned his English 60 years ago in Lancashire and Birmingham, England. I decided to not tell him that I'm actually an American. (I'm often mistaken as being from England since I speak English and they associate English with England. I'm also told -- a lot, actually -- that I don't "look American" i.e. I'm not, um, overweight and I don't wear "American-style" clothes. Whatever that means....)

So, we take our 30 minute tram ride through the coal mountains -- literally -- of Charleroi and get off our tram and head for the bus. This ride is the least eventful of the trip and we make it to the outskirts of the center of Binche, are told "last stop" and head out, walking towards the festivity in the center of town.

The trip back was less eventful, since we now knew what we were doing, but still tiring. I was very glad ot have MN to talk to and wander around with. Between the two of us we managed to navigate the insane system the Belgian mass transit system had in this area of the country to get us to our destination.

It was also just interesting to meet someone from Iran. I know a couple of other people from Iran, but to run into someone from there in Belgium!? That's not something I wasn't expecting.

All in all, it was a wonderful experience and one that I'll remember for ever. It was worth the crazy transportation problems. Of course, I wish I could have shared with with friends or family from back home, but they'll just have to deal with a slideshow and me talking "about the time I was in Binche for Carnaval."

Less than three months to go! Argh!

(Top: Reverse of a 1939 Belgian Bank Note that shows a lace maker and the Cloth Hall and Town Hall of the town of Ypres that was destroyed in World War I. An interesting example of historical memory, in this case, dealing with World War I.)

(Middle: Front of a 1939 Belgian Bank Note that shows the profiles of King Albert I and his wife, Queen Elizabeth. Albert was known as the "Soldier King" and Elizabeth as the "Nurse Queen" during the war for their actions on the front lines during the war.)

(Bottom: The view from my seat at Café Maison du Peuple. This is Parvis St. Gilles. The church there was built in the 1860s. The café is in the old "People's House" that held meetings of the Belgian Worker's Party during the 19th and early 20th centuries.)

Well, I've been away from the blog for a bit for two reasons: I got sick and I got my butt in gear with work. First, being sick sucks and anyone who knows me knows I'm not a good patient. I was ill when I left the US and kept it in check while traveling with my friend, Paul. It came back toward the of his stay, though. I took a couple of days to fight it off, but then I made the mistake of getting a quick bite to eat at one of the dozens of Greek places near Grand Place and, well, food poisoning! Needless to say, having the bathroom three flights of stairs away doesn't exactly help matters....so I got caught up on TV shows. Then I got depressed.

Yes depressed because, I was sick and alone. Not fun. Depressed because I wasn't working and *only* had three months left so, of course, the solution is not get back to work, but mope and mope I did until about 1 February when, all of a sudden, I just felt better. Seriously.

I had a great and encouraging e-mail from an old professor friend; a great conversation with a friend from back home about what my project really is "all about;" and, of course, the patient encouragement of my girlfriend. All of that combined with just looking at my project differently meant that I came up with, well, a much stronger and engaging and focused thesis question about humanitarianism using my Belgian relief organization as a "case study." I also was able to lay out my chapters better and all of a sudden, poof! Not as hard, or crazy, or daunting as I thought it was and it was back to the archive, but this time to the library.

Honestly, sometimes the task of looking through unsorted documents in nameless, numbered files is tough. Libraries are a little more organized. So, I decided to go to the archive's library and search through their databases and lo-and-behold I found good stuff. Reports, diaries, old books from the 1910s and 1920s on topics I needed to investigate. I sat and read and took pictures.

I was back on track and still feel great about the project and am putting in full days. I'm even writing a bit now, aside from the usual grant application. It feels good to be back at it. I even changed my commute. Now I walk down a side street, through a park, to the back of the Petite Sablon and by the practice rooms of the Royal Conservatory. In the mornings its usually so quiet and the musicians are coming in. But when I leave for lunch, and return from my daily Skype call with Carly, and then when I go home at the end of the day I can hear the students practicing and it is, well, just wonderful. (It also helps that there is a Waffle Truck posted on this route that I now frequent on my way home.)

I'm also trying to spend less time just sitting at home, in my apartment. I try to get out after work a few times and read or work at Café Maison du Peuple, a short walk from my place. They have good beer, cheap food, wi-fi, and a nice active atmosphere. (See picture above.)

Yes, I still have less than three months, but I feel I can make the most of it work wise and still have some fun. Tonight it's off to an all night animated film festival with a friend. Then, on Tuesday, for Mardi Gras it's of to the town of Binche in Walloonia for what is supposed to be the most traditional and interesting Carnaval in Belgium. I've been warned to watch out for flying oranges.

So, yeah, just feeling better all around and figured I'd share. More on the films and Carnaval later in the week. And I'm also going to try to collection artifacts and such of my trip. I want to be that professor who has those cool old things on the walls of his office and say, "yeah, I got that thing when I was in such and such a place....) (See pictures of Belgian Bank Notes above.)

In Bruges...it's in Belgium (and so am I)

So, I went to Bruges and it is well, as the movie says, a "f-ing fairy tale." Bruges was the center (or a center) of Paul's trip to the Low Countries and he went up there a day before I did so I could get some work in at the archive. Of course, when I went up it rained and rained and rained. But, the town is still beautiful.

We climbed the bell tower that stands in the center of town and had a pretty nice view. Bruges was a cloth town and a very important one at that, so the town is awash in beautiful old guild halls and houses that sit on the canals. There is a certain "fake" quality to the place. Once the residents realized that they were never going to have the same wealth in trade, the decided to preserve the town as much as they could.

Paul and I ventured to the oldest cafe in Bruges. Since 1515 someone has been serving beer at this little bar that is off the beaten track. (Thanks Lonely Planet.) According to local legend, as told by my Lonely Planet, the painter Rubens did a dine and dash out this cafe when he ordered his brew and then painted a coin on the table. There was no trace of the coin.

After our beer and some food we made our way to a replica Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Built in the 15 century by a rich family it is a, well, weird church. In side is this morbid altarpiece that is covered with sculpted skulls, ladders, bones, tools. Just weird. According, again to our guidebooks, the church contains a "replica of Christ's tomb, complete with imitation corpse." Now, I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting what we found.

Paul and I began the "hunt for Jesus." We went up stairs and to the chapel behind the altar, no luck, until I found a little -- like 3 foot high -- opening in the wall and looked in. "Found it!" I reported to Paul and we entered the "replica tomb." Now, I'm not sure, but I don't think Jesus was buried in what looked to me to be a 1970s tiled room that could be found in the gym of my middle school. But, well, that's what this "replica" looked like. The replica body, too, was more or less just "off." We found this all together very funny. Good thing there wasn't anyone else in the church so we left before the lightening came down to strike us dead.

On a more somber and serious note, we did get to see the precious blood that is housed in the Basilica of the Holy Blood in Bruges. Brought back from the Holy Land during the Crusades, the blood is in a vial that is in a clear glass canister and, from time to time, put on display. It is housed in a double naved church. The lower nave is a bare Romanesque church with little decoration. The uppernave is more more impressive and gilt. Now, all relics are to be taken with a grain of salt since it's hard to test their validity, but the beauty in which it is displayed and kept and venerated is hard to dispute and, the Catholic I am, I followed the crowed and touched the canister that it is kept in, monitored by a stern looking nun dressed in a resplendent robe.

Walked around some more, took in the museum, and had a few drinks and some food. The walk back to the train station was in the rain, but we did manage to see the town after dark and it is a beautiful "night town." The buildings are light up well and the canals are so still that the reflections -- even in the rain -- are amazing. It's a place to go back and explore more on a better day.

Return to the Blog

Well, now that the holidays are over I can update the blog a bit more. (Yeah, I know, you were all so worried!) I don’t know if anyone is still reading this, but I’ll try to keep these updates short, so scroll down to see the older posts (trip home, Christmas).

Travels with Paul (Amsterdam and Utrecht)

Well, my friend Paul is visiting from the US so we’ve been doing some travel. Here is what we’ve done so far and some comments:

Amsterdam (Saturday/Sunday 9/10 January)

It wasn’t what I expected it to be. I thought it would be a larger and grander, but it wasn’t. The Dam – their central square – is actually pretty small and unimpressive. That said, seeing Anne Frank’s House, wandering the lovely canals, visiting the Royal Museum, and taking the Heineken Brewery Tour made the trip very worthwhile.

Paul, a master European traveler, found a great hostel with a great location and after a little mishap meeting up (Amsterdam doesn’t have arrival information at the train station) we set out to explore the city.

It was snowing and, from what we could tell, it always snows in Amsterdam. Despite the cold we made our way through the city and took a canal tour – very romantic. It took about an hour and we saw the narrowest house in Amsterdam – not much wider than the door itself – and the furniture hooks on the gables of the houses – narrow stairs preclude taking sofas and the like inside when moving, so they use hooks to bring things through the windows – and houseboats that people live on year-round. A good choice to see a lot of the city and do some icebreaking in our little canal boat.

We visited Ann Frank’s House, which was very powerful and moving. The secret annex – where she and her family lived during WWII before they were “discovered” – is devoid of furniture and it’s a little haunting. There are quotes by Frank, from her diary, all over the house and pictures of how the rooms had looked. Just thinking about being cramped in these small rooms with others and not being able to go outside, being quiet every day, was very affecting.

(There is no good transition from Ann Frank's House to anything else...so forgive the abrupt shift.)

After taking that tour and in need of some time to decompress we stopped for some food and a drink before wandering some more and, yes, we eventually visited the Red Light District. It is a disconcerting place, but Paul and I did not play “how much for that hooker in the window.” Nor did we stop at any coffee shops for some pot or hash. Just not our style.

The next day we visited the Royal Museum and saw some amazing Rembrandts and Vermeer. They had another exhibit that depicted the power and glory of the Dutch in the 15^th and 16^th centuries. I always forget how powerful the Dutch were at that time and it was interesting to see it all laid out before me.

Utrecht

Our time in Amsterdam was up and we moved on toward Brussels and stopped in a town called Utrecht. It used to be a seat of Catholic power, but after the Reformation the cathedral was ransacked. The faces of statues of saints are clearly smashed off and the niches where others are supposed to be are empty. Most interesting is that the church now only consists of the choir (where the altar is) and the transepts. The long nave that connected it with its beautiful gothic bell tower collapsed in a storm in the mid-1600s and was never rebuilt.

As Paul and I wandered around the church a man approached us and in German and English said if we had any questions we should ask him. “No,” we said,” just looking” as we made our way toward the altar area. “Oh, if you want to go up and look around the altar you can.” Now, Paul and I are Catholic and in Catholic churches you don’t do that, so we were a little taken aback. “Oh,” we said. “We didn’t know you could do that. We’re Catholic.” The kindly older man grew a little sterner and said “Well, we’re Protestant here so you can go behind the altar.” We did and checked out the tomb of a famous resident.

After lunch we climbed the 465 steps of the bell tower. For some reason when I travel with Paul I climb a lot of stairs. The view from the top was very pretty, though the snow and fog prevented a clear view over the Dutch countryside. Since there were only four of us on the tour, we got to see where the bells (the carillon) are housed the ropes that are used to make them ring on special occasions. (No, we couldn’t ring them, but Paul did play a nice little tune (When the Saints go Marching In) on a toy carillon in the tower’s museum.

After climbing down we got on the train and headed to Brussels….I gave Paul the usual tour and this weekend we’re of to Bruges and Tournai. More to come!

Christmas in the USA

It was nice to be back in the US for the holidays. I really do love living here, I like the culture and am enjoying my work, but I miss my friends, family, and girlfriend a great deal. The 18 days I spent back home went fast, in part because I was traveling so much while in the US. A few days in NY and then NJ for Christmas with Carly, my uncle, brother, and cousins. Then down to Atlanta for Christmas with Carly’s family. We had a great time and it was nice to see the sun! (It was cold there, but at least the sun was out for more than an hour or two.)

Now Belgium has fantastic cuisine, but it was great to have US food again: pizza, a deli breakfast sandwich and, down in Atlanta, Chic-fil-A.

The trip back to NYC on New Year’s Eve, however, was a bit of a hassle. Our flight was cancelled, but Carly is a master traveler and got us on a flight that got us into Newark not too later than we were supposed to be…but we still cancelled on our NYE plans: I got sick. Of course I did! So, if Mark and/or Erin are reading this: again so sorry for missing!

All in all it was a nice trip back, but a whirlwind. I got to see a lot of family and friends, but not nearly everyone so, if you’re reading this and I didn’t touch base with you when I was back. Sorry!

American Airlines Sucks, but my fellow travelers were really nice

So, I flew back to the US on 21 December and wasn’t expecting a big deal. But it was. See, England and Belgium have been having a lot of weather and snow. The weekend before I left for the US Brussels got a few inches of snow. I was happily sitting in my usual morning café and watched a number of cars just slide down the road. It seems that the Belgian drivers don’t really get what to do when it snows, even though it snows a bit each year. You just kinda push through, but don’t shovel or plow. (Not that they really can. It’s hard to plow or shovel cobblestones.) Makes for wet and cold feet, but the beer helps.

Anyway, I got to the airport about 2.5 hours early and, since I wasn’t checking a bag, was just going to use the kiosk, get my boarding pass, and chill with my book. No dice. So, I went to the counter to check in. Again, nope…back of the line…of about 900 people. See flights were cancelled left and right AND the Eurostar (the high-speed train) to London was shut down because of weather. And, of course, I was flying to the US so we all had to go through like 50 layers of security.

Now to vent I call my poor girlfriend – it’s like 5am or something in the US when I do this – for no other reason to vent. And I just wait, but thankfully I met two really nice travelers: Damian (a Belgian) and Amy (a Brit). We’re all three on the same flight to London (Damian is on it to go to Boston where he’s studying and Amy is on it to go home, she was stranded because of the Eurostar problem).

We had a lovely time chatting about the insanity of travel, our thoughts on our own countries, on each others’, Christmas traditions in each country, and the like. It was just a pleasant time. Thankfully our flight was delayed to let all the passangers get through security and passport control, then we waited an hour at the gate to get a new flight plan and then got in the air.

The rest of the trip was fine-ish and I was just happy to get home and see Carly and not lug around a suitcase.

Winter Wonders

Waiting for archival materials is part of the job. You rush to get through folders and boxes, only to wait while new folders and boxes are retrieved from the depths of the archive. So, it’s a good opportunity – when you don’t want to work – to write up other things. With no internet in the archive, here’s my post on the coming of Christmas in Brussels.

Back home it seems that all at once, the Christmas season is in full bloom. You wake up one day and, BAM, stores, malls, streets, everything is decked out for Christmas. Here, the season unfolds slowly, though we’re now in full swing, especially because St. Nicholas Day is this Sunday.

If you haven’t read or listened to David Sedaris’ “Six to Eight Black Men” about the Christmas tradition in the Netherlands, it’s worth a listen for two reasons: First, it’s funny as hell and, second, it’s the celebration that is most common in Belgium. I’ll be brief. St. Nicholas, the former bishop of Turkey, lives in Spain during the off season with his helpers, Zwart Piet (Black Pete). Around the middle of November, St. Nicholas takes a boat from Spain to the port cities of the low countries, docks, gets on his white horse, and tours the country, getting the scoop on the good boys and girls in the country.

The children put out their shoes and, in the mornings, usually find a small sweet. On the night of 5 December Saint Nicholas and Black Pete (former slaves, chimney sweeps, friends, who really knows at this point) visit each house and leave gifts for the Children by their shoes.

Christmas day itself is not a gift giving holiday (though with commercialization and the primacy of American Christmas themed Coke bottles in stores, many are giving gifts on Christmas day) but one for visiting family. In the Francophone part of the country, Christmas Eve is the big holiday. (The above story about Saint Nicholas is a Dutch tradition, but also the most popular tradition in Belgium. This place is so culturally complicated, it’s pretty amazing.)

Anyway, that’s the tradition, but lets talk about the atmosphere. Grand Place, in the center of Brussels, becomes a mix of the old and the new. A tree it set up with blue and white lights (that seems to be the color scheme for tree lights). A crèche is also put up on Grand Place. (It was also called “the hut for the baby Jesus” by a woman I overheard while having a drink one evening.) The City Hall – a beautiful gothic building – is decked out in lights, but not our traditional Christmas lights, but in a display that flashes, and strobes, and the like, all timed to music piped in to the courtyard. Electrobel (the Belgian electric company) sponsers this display and it’s pretty cool, though I don’t know why the music has to be techno-versions and DJ mixes of Christmas music….

The old guild halls and, now, café’s on Grand Place are in the spirit, too.

Beyond Grand Place, as you make you way to the Bourse (the stock exchange) and Saint Catherine you come across a big Christmas market with about 240 or 250 stalls selling goods from around Belgium and the world. There’s food and hot wine and cider. About 2.5 million people come to visit the Christmas Market and, evidently, lots of Brits are drawn to it.

Each year, the Market has a featured “guest” and this year it is Mongolia. There is a small section with maybe a dozen “yurts” selling Mogolian goods and foods. I think I’ll stay away from the fermented horse milk, but that’s just me…..

Beyond that is the bulk of the Market, complete with an ice rink and a huge ferris wheel.

When I was out on opening night, there was also an outdoor studio broadcasting “LIVE.” I was pelted with fake snow (soap bubbles) as the hosts wandered from place to place in the outdoor studio talking with various people. (I assume they were venders who got a prime spot on the TV show.) Pretty cool, I’d have to say.

Closer to where I live, the Sablon is decked out with lights and the shops – always cute and classic – look better than ever.

It’s fun to think that I’ll have two Christmases. One here in Europe and then I’ll be back in time to enjoy Christmas in the States….It really is a wonderful time of year.

As for pictures, once I have a reliable internet connection, I'll post some...until then, words will have to do.