Found this cartoon quite entertaining...and surprisingly true. What do you think? Comment and let me know:)
You would not believe this, but in the past two days, two
people have asked me if I was Spanish… What the heck? Is it my accent when I
speak French? I don’t think so…it’s pretty obviously an American English
accent. Is it the way I look? No again… I mean don’t most Spanish people have
dark hair and tan skin? I just don’t get it…but alright.
Anyway, now onto a totally new topic. On Thursday night, I went to visit my Belgian friend
Dries (the one who I met at a concert when I first arrived in Brussels and he
taught me the Belgian hand signal for a beer at a bar). He lives in the small
town of Mechelen, but has lived in almost every Belgian city possible. The past
6 weeks he spent snowboarding with his friends in Zillertal (yes, where I was! Unfortunately,
we didn’t have time to meet up). One of the great things I find about Europe is
that they really try to help out young people who don’t earn much money to be
able to afford to travel. They have developed couch surfing (you sign up online
and people offer to let you sleep on their couch if you allow the same thing
for them), carpooling to different cities (people post times and routes online
and you sign up to ride in the car with them, and split gas money). There are
cheap hostels galore, in every city, and good discounts for train tickets. I
think the US should definitely take up some of these ideas, because when you’re
young, it’s the best time to travel!
Anyway, whenever Dries and I meet up, we always have the
most interesting conversations. He loves talking about Belgium and how just “messed
up crazy” it is. I arrived at the Mechelen train station (it’s only a 20 min
train ride from Brussels) and we met up and he walked me through the center.
There was a big bar party with a rock band and a bunch of young students
dancing, and then we turned a corner and it was completely empty and silent, but
it was beautiful. There was a canal running along the old Dutch houses, with a
lit boardwalk over the water, going along the side of it, so you could
basically follow the canal while walking over it. He pointed out the Fish
Market, where he said all his friends and him used to hang out when he was
younger. Apparently it’s a great place to drink and party..would have never
guessed.
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| Walking over the canal |
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| The pretty center (with bikes of course! Cars are not even allowed in the center of Mechelen) |
There was a cute bar with all its windows lit up and the light
glittering on the water. People were sitting inside, drinking beer. Dries told
me that this bar has over 1000 beers, and even the most strangest, hardest to
get Belgian beers and that the guy who owns it is super old but knows
everything there is to know about Belgian beer and takes it very seriously. He
wants all of his customers to appreciate the flavor and love that went into the
making of the beer. He takes sometimes a half hour just to bring your beer out.
But you are not supposed to care, you are supposed to just take time and relax.
We walked into another bar that seemed a little bit livelier
and had a younger crowed. We sat down and Dries ordered us the special beer of
Mechelen, called “golden” something or another. Of course, it was a strong one.
I asked Dries if he knew why Belgians made their beers so strong. Immediately
he said, “Well, it is definitely not because we want to get drunk off of it, as
some people falsely assume. If we want to get drunk, we drink lots of normal
beer. Strong beer is supposed to be drunk slowly and enjoyed. You have to savor
the taste and drink it with love, because it was made with love. Lots of care
goes into the making of it, to make sure it has the perfect taste.” Hm, maybe
that is why they call this beer we were drinking “golden”…because it’s like gold
for the Belgians. I laughed and told Dries about how the concept of drinking a
strong drink just for the flavor would never be comprehended by people my age
back in the States. They drink to get drunk, and that’s it. When I told them
about how strong the beer is here, they immediately asked me to bring them back
some bottles because it was “so hard for them to get strong alcohol”. Dries
told me how he learned about the importance of treating Belgian beer with care
and savoring the flavor when he was only 13 years old. He said he would sit at
a bar with his dad, each of them drinking a Duvel (one of Belgium’s strongest
beers..8.5% alcohol).
What I also find quite funny here in Belgium is that some of
the strongest, most sought after beers made here are brewed by monks right
inside their monasteries. They take great pride in their beer, and only make it
in small batches. If you want a pack, you have to order it many months in
advance, and then go to the monastery at a specific time to pick it up. But
apparently, the time, effort and money is worth it, for this “liquid gold.”
For example, the Belgian government had immense amount of
trouble trying to decide where the boundaries of Brussels was and where the signs
would stop having to be both in French and Flemish. I agree, these are
difficult decisions, but come on...in the end, who cares about a few meters different between
where Brussels ends and Wallonia begins? No one in Belgium, I can assure you
that.
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| The period of no government in Belgium is sometimes referred to as "The Revolution of Belgian Fries." Just goes to show you how proud Belgians are of their fries...you'd only hope that they would also have a bit more pride for more important things in their country, like their government. |
Europe doesn’t think of itself as one continent. Dries said
that it is really funny every time I refer to this place as “Europe”. He said
no European ever calls themselves “European” or says “I’m from Europe” simply
because, Europe is not a unified place. Yes, they have the EU of which the
majority of the countries are a part of, and share the same currency, but that
is pretty much all that they have in common. And just 10 years ago, this place
didn’t even have the same currency. Every single country had a completely
different one, and the exchange rate was completely wacko. Dries said he remembers when all the
currencies were different (he was 12 years old when it changed) and that he
actually never left Belgium, just like pretty much every other person never traveled out of their own country back then.
No one thought a need to. They were from their country and the other
ones sharing the continent were not of importance to them.
He also told me this sauna story which I found quite
amusing. He and his friends went to the sauna together in Zillertal. I asked in
surprise, “And you were all naked together??” Dries, “Um yeah…it’s normal.” I
just could not comprehend that. All I could picture was 6 naked guys sitting in
a hot room on a bench together, staring at each other. Maybe it was the little
bit of American prudeness that has influenced me after living there the past
couple of years, but all I could think about was how “gay” my friends back home
would find that. But honestly, that is just silly. And what am I even talking
about, I even did it myself. Jeez, Europe is influencing me even more than I
thought it would…
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