If you would have come and visited me here in Brussels there would be one place on our 'must visit' list and that would be Arcadi Cafe without a doubt. This little cafe has become almost my second home as I frequent it at least once, if not two or three times, per week. They serve the best quiche and the best tarte you could ever imagine. Located just within reach of tourist central, this little cafe, with it's bossy (and occasionaly charming) staff, awaits those who will look past it's tight spaces and dusty decorations. Many an afternoon or morning have I whiled away an hour or two with a cup of coffee, a piece of raspberry or rice tart and some good conversation with a friend. I think we always intend to try some place new, our time is slipping away here and we haven't tried that many places, but Arcadi has cast a spell on us and we always return. I have a feeling if I ever return to this city to visit this will be one of the first places that I will have to visit. 
Tarte paradise.....
There is one person in Belgium that I have spent and devoted more of my time with than anyone else. He has caused me to experience a whole range of emotions and has given me memories I will never forget. Like the time I had given him his lunch and stood across from him cleaning up and he whispered across the table, "Jess, me give you a kiss", and then after giving him a kiss, ten minutes later whispering again, "Jess, me give you two kisses." I am so proud of the fact that he tells the maid "thank you for cleaning the room of me!" without being told anymore. It may be that he is only 2 and a half years old, but he has helped me get through long days by giving me a hug or a kiss and making me laugh by insisting to wear his funny sun hat, pink sunglasses or his cat mask to school in the morning. I may try to deny the fact that I will miss him when I go home, but I know that he has touched a place in my heart and I will never be able to forget the year I spent with him here. Because I am ready to continue on with my own life, I don't feel that it will be terribly difficult to say goodbye, but I do know I will miss him when I need a hug or a kiss or that unrestrained, love without question that he gives. I have learned so much from him in this year and I am amazed to see that he has learned things from me too. I have to laugh when he pouts and says, "me sad Jess" because I see in him the same "sad"face I make at him when I am disappointed in something he does (like tear his napkin into tiny pieces and then sprinkle them all over the floor or hit his sisters on the head with a stick). Both of my sisters are pregnant and will be having babies this fall and I am so excited for them because I know how many wonderful moments they will be discovering as they play and teach their children. I never understood children as intimately as I have come to in this past year--before my knowledge of children was limited to the development stages I had learned in different University courses in the past years. It has been a difficult year, and an emotionally and physically demanding job, but I wouldn't trade it for any other year--and I definitely would not trade Clarence for any other 2 year old with which to experience it with. 
Just a fifteen minute walk away from where I reside is Cafe Belga. Many a night have I walked along the cobblestone and dirty sidewalks, past the two beautiful ponds in order to meet a friend or a few for an after work drink or a breakfast coffee and croissant. At night it is usually impossible to find a seat and can be difficult to have a conversation over the music, but that doesn't stop me from going. When the weather is warm it's outside seating is packed with people even sitting on the pavement forming human circles for lack of chairs. I love the hustle and the bustle and the many different characters you can be sure to see gathering. I like that it is not imposing on you, but just invites you to have a drink and enjoy the friends that you came with. Sometimes I complain about the noise and I don't always understand completely what it is that draws sooo many people to it, but overall it has become a staple of my life here in Brussels and I wouldn't have it any other way.
the land where the french fry was birthed...not sure how I would feel if they were called belgian fries instead of french fries. Chances are it would not in any way decrease my love of them. I am so happy when I see the frite man scoop the fries out of the oil only to put them back int
o the oil a minute later. Oh Frit Flagey where I can buy a cone (yes a cone) of fries with ketchup for about 2 euro. My host mom has remarked to me that she believes the frit stand desecrates the beauty of the pond behind it, but I do not feel this way in the least. I love the wafting smell of fries as I walk along the beautiful path. It's dirty trailor with a piece of spray-painted ply wood on the bottom still calls my name. I don't even mind the somewhat rude man that is always there and requires you to speak to him in French. I order with confidence. Mmm....french fries. So wonderful here, but I have to say I am also excited to get home to enjoy some 'artery cloggin fries' from Hemingway's in Pittsburgh.
When my dad came to visit back in April we had a little trouble deciding where to go and what to see. In the end we ended up doing a small tour of Belgium, my favorite part of that tour being our trip to Dinant. Dinant is located in the Ardennes, a part of Belgium that I had not been to before my dad came. I can say that this is one of my favorite landscapes of Belgium. On the train there we passed mountains and valleys that reminded me of home. When we got to Dinant we were worried that we might get a little lost coming out of the train station since I didn't look up any information before leaving, but luckily it was a small enough town that there was no confusion as to where to go and what were the sights. There aren't a lot of 'things' in Dinat, but there is a lot of beauty and such a small town has it's charms and history. One of the things that I insisted my dad and I had to do was to climb up the 408 steps that were over 100 years old, instead of giving in and taking the cable car to the top. Maybe not the best idea for two individuals with slight fears of heights, but still it was adventurous and fun in its own way.
Back a few months (where has time gone?) I went to an event with a few of my friends where they had almost all of the museums around Brussels open with different events at each one. The city does this one night a year to spark people's interest in the museums and to see how many people they can fit into small spaces. My friends and I made peace buttons at one museum and then boarded the 'museum shuttle' which ended up taking us all over the city. We finally ended u
p at an art museum where we saw them taking somewhat strange photos of various people. We found out we were able to participate for free. After standing in a long line and fighting line cutters they finally did our hair, our make-up, and gave us silly dresses to wear. It was like one of those old timey photo places that seem to be on every boardwalk in the States.I have never had so much make up on in my life and my hair was teased higher than it is ever been--fortunately I put on a hat for the picture so you couldn't notice the extreme height of the hair. The outcome was a success though and the picture is one that I am sure I will treasure for years to come.
Some people smoke, some drink coffee. For me it is all about the Coca Cola (I find it curious we call it Coke when it isen't even in the title). I can't seem to get enough. Bad day? Bad mood? I probably haven't drank my coke that day. How does this relate to Belgium? Not only do I prefer the Belgian recipe of Coke to that of the US's, but I like that when you go out to a restaurant they serve it in these nice little bottles--quite green if you will. Which brings me on another subject of why Belgium is cool...they at least make some attempt at being green. Recycling is cool here.
Oh coke, you liquid sugar caressing my tongue, rotting my teeth and going straight to my hips. For you I see past the negative aspects of your being and indulge in your goodness.
about Belgium. I have 35 days left until I leave Belgium for the rest of my European adventure and because of that I have decided to write about 35 different things I like about Belgium. I might also write about things that I don't enjoy as well depending on how the mood takes me. I will attempt to write everyday, but I know this is not possible. Some days I might cover two or so to catch myself up. Today I will write about this picture:
Brussels is a random city. You never know how your plans for the day will be interjected with surprises such as a band of older gentlemen playing cover songs on their small guitars and/or inflatable toys large enough for multiple children. I like that several times I have been riding on the bus or going for a walk only to find some kind of random festival going on. Trying to figure out exactly what the festival is for is not always easy to do. It seems that sometimes they exist just to exist and to provide diversions from the monotonous mess that a city can sometimes become. Plus the owners of large inflatable toys and the older gentlemen with small guitars have to make a living somehow somehow...
Ugh, what a day so far. Since the parents are away, Clarence is a disaster. I went to school to pick him up and he was standing in a pee puddle--they had not been watching him and he must have had to go to the toilet and no one was around. How annoying! Luckily he has another change of clothes at school so we put those on along with his pee soggy shoes and began the walk home. I decided to cut through the park since it is a beautiful day and he loves to run...so off he went and within a minute had fallen face first on the ground and started screaming his guts out. I picked him up and he had badly skinned his knee--blood oozing everywhere. Had to then carry him home with pee soggy shoes and a bloody knee--both substances probably ending up on me. Of course it is hot and he is heavy and it was horrible. Lunch continued to be a disaster as he pouted about me not feeding him. I was only to happy to put him in bed for his nap so I could have some much needed alone time. After reading a story and going to lay him in bed he started to cry again about his recent boo-boo. I explained to him that after some sleep he would be all better...he said that sleep wouldn't make him feel better, Pin-Pin would make him feel better (Pin-Pin is his stuffed rabbit). I told him that was true, and if he was lucky Pin-Pin would sing a song in his ear to help him fall asleep. He got a very sad look on his face and said very quietly and matter of factly, 'but jess, Pin-Pin has no mouth'. We almost cried together out of sympathy for Pin-Pin's lack of a mouth. I of course pretended to stich on a mouth for Pin-Pin and Clarence looked and said, 'yuck! ugly mouth for Pin-Pin'. Oh well!
I survived the morning though and to make myself feel better I went all out and made myself chimicungas for lunch...fried and everything. Mexican food always seems to improve my mood.
These are the normal, everyday things that I deal with here. Usually it is not very exciting.
It is interesting to me the people we meet that we will never see again. They have managed to contribute to our lives regardless and often I really wish they could be a more important part of my life then what they had been. That is life though and especially life when you are traveling and continually changing your routine. I will probably never again sit on the edge of the sandbox with the mom from Russia and the grandmother from Italy. I won't have random French boys as camping neighbors and fire starter assistants. And the thing is there is a good chance I won't remember these people in a few years. They will be cast out of my memory even though they played a small part in my life--providing advice, a listening ear, a smile and encouragement, or simply a fire pit. We can't do justice to everyone who has played a part in our life and we will never know the parts that we played in other's lives. Geez.....life.
It is funny to me that my last blog was about going to Amsterdam and this blog will be yet again about another trip to Amsterdam. Clearly I have not written in awhile and/or done anything that is exciting enough to be written about. Between that trip and this trip there has been an endless cycle of routine and weather changes. Honestly though, this is not the truth. In this time my dad has visited from the States and we had a wonderful time exploring Belgium together and seeing some wonderful things I had not yet seen since being here. It was so nice to see family from home and remember what I am missing back there. Also, Clarence has started school which means I have a few hours in the morning free to myself. Not many mind you, but it is nice not having to amuse him for a few hours which always would leave me hopelessly exhausted by lunchtime. Now I am able to face the evening with a renewed energy and the girls now see me as a much kinder, more playful human being, since I am not forced to prop myself up on over sized plastic toys just to make it through the evening awake.
But back to Amsterdam. This past weekend myself and five other girls (two Australians, two Americans, and two Scandinavians) packed up some tents, some sleeping bags, and a ton of warm clothing and made our way to a small camp ground located right on the edge of Amsterdam. We fought for tent space and struggled to put the tent up, but in the end we toasted our success with cheap wine in plastic tea cups and sausages we grilled on the neighbors' little charcoal grill. Even though some of us worried and had nightmares of ducks stealing our food, we managed to survive the freezing cold night in our many colorful layers huddling together for body warmth. The next day we boarded overcrowded buses in order to 'tiptoe through the tulips' of Holland. And the tulips were amazing. Every shape and every color made it's appearance.
