skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Did you know that 2006 marks the 800th year of the existence of the Mongolian state? Yes, they've been around a good long while. I attended an event last night that was meant to celebrate Mongolian culture and recognize this milestone in its history. Unfortunately, I didn't end up learning much about Mongolia because there were far too many people there (free food and drink was advertised) and I got caught up in a couple of conversations with some fellows from New Zealand who work on human rights. One of them really liked to talk about himself.
"I'm really blessed to be working there. I don't own anything in the world. I'm not married and I have no home to go back to. I'm not a scholar. These academics and politicians, they just talk. I actually do things, get things done. I've helped so many people. This is reality. I've been to Mongolia thirty times. 99% of these people have never been there, they don't know what it's like. I was just in Ulaan Baatar, in fact. By the way, here's my card, and you should come to Macau and I'll show you around."
And on and on. But I do admire his zeal and his commitment to his work. He's been there 20 years, never went to college, and learned Mandarin "on the streets."
There was some traditional music played and traditional food served. At one point the servers brought out dumplings and placed them in our hands. They were so hot that I could barely hold them. I would have laughed out loud were it not for the scalding I was undergoing at the moment. Later they brought out Mongolian beef and noodles and the measley four trays they had were empty within five minutes. Apparently there was some cashmere being sold but I guess I never made it to that corner of the room. It was so warm in there that I was sweating, and when I walked outside at the end of the evening into the late November air, I took off my sweater and welcomed the cold.
Went to see Yo La Tengo last night at the Ancienne Belgique. They're one of my favorite bands. Now when I say "favorite," I don't mean that I actually know their names or own all of their albums. I'm not an aficionado of any band, really. It just means that I own more than one album and have always liked their sound. 
They started off with a bang and during the first half played a couple of songs that I recognized, namely, "Tears are in Your Eyes" and "Autumn Sweater." Somewhere in the middle of the show, they went cray-zay. They began to layer sound upon sound until it became a twenty-minute-long vibrating wave through our bodies. It was too much, really. It was not the soft, cool YLT that I have known in years past. They rounded off the evening with a couple of cute tracks as cool-downs but that was not enough to salvage my ear drums. I was glad I went but I don't think I'll be going to see them again anytime soon.
All day my heart was heavy with missing the wedding of Mary Catherine and Jon and all the surrounding festivities. But I've gotten short updates from the sisters, and L and I sent in a short "video update," so I feel as though I participated a bit.
Thanksgiving is this week, and I'm making sweet potatoes with bacon vinaigrette, green beans with ginger butter, and good ole pumpkin pie. We're meeting up with some Americans here for an evening feast. Won't be like home, but I am still looking forward to it.
It appears that the state of Iowa and the country of Belgium have ties that long precede me. Today at the Museum of the Army and Military History I learned that Iowa's not-so-favorite son Herbert Hoover, long before he was elected U.S. president, headed the Commission for the Relief of Belgium, a relief effort to provide food to the starving citizens of Belgium and Northern France at the beginning of World War I. At the time he was a wealthy, but bored, mining engineer and wanted to perform some kind of service to people that needed it. Apparently he was considered a great humanitarian in Europe: the Finns even added the word hoover to their language, which means "to help." It is said that the effort fed 10 million civilians during the war.
I found this discovery amusing since Hoover has an historical reputation as a laissez-faire president who did nothing to rescue his own country from the depression. In fact, he was probably against too much government intervention in relief efforts, worrying that it would grow too big in the meantime. The CRB was cooperatively funded by voluntary donations and government grants, and he tried the same method in the early stages of the depression, just not nearly as much as his successor Roosevelt.
Another amusing discovery was that the exhibit at the museum was largely funded by the US embassy here in Brussels, and W even sent a letter at its opening in September. My companion labelled this "propaganda" that was clearly an attempt to improve current relations with Europe through highlighting a part of America's past endeavors with Belgium. I just call it "subtle diplomacy."
I was in Austria when U.S. forces invaded Iraq. I was in a study abroad program and one of my classes was entitled "Dialogue of Cultures: Conflict and Peace." About halfway through the semester it descended into a tirade against America's defiance of international law. Perhaps the supposed lack of international dialogue going on around us prevented the professors from fulfilling the purpose of the class: dialogue. But I have never loved my country so much as I did during those few months abroad, even if I wasn't sure about the war.
How could this have happened? Truth be told, I get antsy when foreigners criticize U.S. actions and policy to my face. I probably take too many things personally, and for a while I succeeded in reminding myself that the Austrians and others I met on my travels didn't actually hate me. But only for a while. At one point my sister and I convinced a man that we were Canadian, just so we could avoid the comments that would inevitably accompany his discovery of our American citizenship.
In the past few days I've been a part of a couple of intense political discussions in people's living rooms. One was a general discussion about U.S. foreign policy which touched on Iraq; the other was about how best to address the crisis in North Korea, mainly regarding refugees spilling into China. I could feel the hairs on my skin rise as one woman derided the U.S. push for sanctions and the supposed "politicizing" of the refugee situation by U.S. Congressmen, as if they were not acting from a principled framework. My heart pumped hard and my face turned red. If I had had this same conversation in the states, I most likely would not have felt this sudden anger. In fact, I may have even felt comfortable with some of the criticisms. Now, after a few years of dormancy, the patriot in me has reared its head. But I don't know if it is true patriotism, or if it's just a temporary, reactionary, "as-if-EU-politicans-don't-politicize-Guantanamo" feeling.
So I leave it up to you, blog-reader, to assess for yourself. I certainly don't want to be a blind patriot, or mindlessly brush off the opinions of my European peers. But I want to learn how to lovingly and gently defend my country in a cross-cultural setting, where it is right to do so, as these issues will not soon disappear.
I am re-posting this picture since i find it important. I stayed up from 1-5 AM last Saturday morning to watch the Cardinals claim the World Series championship. What a moment.
