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.

Turkey à la Belge

Being an ex-pat on a holiday isn’t the easiest of things. Being and ex-pat on a holiday that is traditionally “your own” and not celebrated in your host country is, well, a little strange. In the run up to Thanksgiving there were no pictures of turkeys or pilgrims or cornucopias in the windows of shops. No news reports from the AAA advising people to take public transportation instead of driving. And no supermarket promotions: “Buy 100 Euros of groceries and get a free turkey!” In fact, there were no huge displays of turkeys in supermarkets at all. Turkeys don’t arrive in full force until Christmas here.

So, my original intent was to seek out Starbucks at the airport and chow down at McDonald’s to get my required does of American and, indeed, consumerism. Thankfully, my friend SC, who’s spent time in the US, was having a Thanksgiving dinner for some of his family and friends. “An excuse to party,” he said. So, I was able to have a Thanksgiving Day dinner and it was wonderful. Of course, as with any Thanksgiving, a few bumps along the way.

First was, what to eat. Like I said above, turkeys aren’t easy to find. So, it was decided that we’d have a full chicken since a bird was necessary and you can carve a chicken. Then, SC said his sister knew someone at one of the US military bases near Brussels (it’s the headquarters of NATO)….but, as with most things American, all the birds there were literally too big to fit into SC’s oven. So, it was back to chicken. In the end, though, SC was able to get a turkey that would fit from a poultry store earlier in the week. It was a “real” bird that the butcher killed, de-plucked, and dressed for our Thursday feast.

It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without a transportation problem of some sort…since SC and his other guests had to work on Thursday (and, in theory, I should have, too, but I had cornbread to make) Thanksgiving was to begin around 7:00/7:30. Now SC lives south of me, near the university so I had to either take the bus or the tram. I chose the tram because it’s closer to pick up from my apartment and, well, I just like the trams better.

Evidently there was an accident on the other track and this resulted in my tram stopping at the end of Avenue Louise before it makes the turn to head towards where SC lives. No announcement about the problem or what to do. Everyone just got off and dispersed. Now, I knew where I was and I could have walked to SC’s, but it would have been a hike and the weather was being very Belgian – rain, no rain, lots of rain, light rain, no rain, wind. After a helpful call from SC’s brother I made my way to a major intersection – Place Flagey – and got on the bus from there and made it with time to spare before dinner was to begin.

Along with the traditional fixin’s, we had the traditional box o’wine, and SC’s sister and brother even tried to stream some American Football to watch. Evidently a lot of others in Belgium were doing the same, so we could only see one play, but it was enough. (It was the Cowboys and Raiders, so I really didn’t care about the game.)

I did some explaining about what Thanksgiving is. SC, his sister, and brother have spent time in the US, but the others at the table hadn’t. The most fun I had explaining the holiday was actually to my landlords.

Before brining my cornbread contribution to Thanksgiving dinner I made a test batch the weekend before. Now, the recipe makes about 12 muffins, so I decided to share some with my landlords – a nice Dutch-Belgian family. A few days later I ran into them and they said the loved the cornbread, but still didn’t know what Thanksgiving was. I started with the pilgrims and Indians, then with Lincoln and the Civil War, and finally when I said, “well, it’s basically based on a harvest festival” then they got it, said some stuff in Dutch and nodded. So, cultural ideas were exchanged. (They’ve helped share the Saint Nicholas story and the Christmas-time traditions.)

The Christmas season is in full swing here and that will be the focus of my next post….needless to say David Sedaris has prepared me for the tradition here and I’m even playing my part as one of the “Black Petes” by hiding some of the family's gifts ahead of 6 December when gifts are exchanged.