<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172</id><updated>2011-11-01T02:33:40.838+01:00</updated><title type='text'>La vie dans Bruxelles</title><subtitle type='html'>This is the life and times of Anna in Belgium.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-4172395300773068944</id><published>2007-07-06T21:39:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T21:59:30.405+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The end has come</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I lost steam on this blog. I'm not sure that blogging is for me. It's too public. Maybe some day I'll pick it up again. But for now, I am taking a nice long hiatus. It was good, regardless, to have a record of my life and times in Brussels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, the obligatory "miss and not-miss" lists (this is mostly for my memory's sake):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The Well and the Christian community here - it is like nothing I have experienced before, most probably because it is set in such a religiously apathetic part of the world, so that makes you tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The beer, and the affordability of it. I won't know how much I'll miss it till I've left! American and British ales and lagers will never taste the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) The availability of fresh bread, the bubbly water, the waffles, the frites, the pastries, the chocolate, the french and flemish cuisine, our favorite "thai alley," our local German place that fed us lots of wiener schnitzel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Cafes and brasseries: a la Mort Subite, a la Becasse, la Porte Noir, Cook and Book, le Fauborg, O'Reilly's, Kitty O'Sheas, le Falstaff, and so so so many others. I will miss each of you and the good times you gave me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Park Cinquentenaire and Square Ambiorix. Countless fun times in those places: frisbee, playing with kids, picnics, museums, chilling in the evening light. I will miss them sorely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Cheap public transportation. 'Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Won't miss:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The lack of customer service, just about everywhere. The locals are just beginning to realize what an asset this can be to their businesses. But mostly, people just put up with rudeness and get on with their lives. Occasionally, this is charming, but usually it's quite irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) ATMs that don't accept international debit cards. An endless source of frustration for tourists and expats alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Badly organized supermarkets. Delhaize is generally an exception to this, but it is also more expensive. My local GB gave me vertigo because of its gently lilting floors and shelves lined every which direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) The languages - as good as it is for me to get out of my comfort zone, I will be happy to be able to speak English freely again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) People who don't get out of your way when you're exiting the metro train! Why, why, why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Gray walls and dirty streets. Brussels, you can be so much prettier! You've got all that Art Nouveau stuff going on. Why not enhance it? Why are you still building gray buildings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all folks. That's la vie dans Bruxelles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-4172395300773068944?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/4172395300773068944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=4172395300773068944' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4172395300773068944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4172395300773068944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/07/end-has-come.html' title='The end has come'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-1316968373691320891</id><published>2007-05-29T23:17:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T23:28:38.861+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The sisters came</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rlyao3KfX2I/AAAAAAAAAEc/MiA3hm-B6ck/s1600-h/DSCF1030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rlyao3KfX2I/AAAAAAAAAEc/MiA3hm-B6ck/s400/DSCF1030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070097307305729890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Laura and Heidi visited for a three day weekend, and despite fighting colds and battling shifty weather, it was a success. Did the inevitable tour of Brugge on Saturday, and on Saturday night walked around downtown Brussels, following our ears wherever they led us during the annual Brussels Jazz Marathon. Sunday there was a 20k race, so after doing some walking around the Avenue Louise/Parc Royale area, we met some folks from our church near the finish line and greeted runners as they came in. Sunday night Lauri's parents came through, so we went out to eat with them and the girls finally got to try some authentic fruit beer. On Monday we did more walking as nothing was really open (it being a bank holiday here) but we did manage to eat an excellent Thai meal and buy some chocolate for them to take home. The whole weekend was about taking in the sights, tastes, and sounds of Brussels, as well as chatting and chilling. I miss them muchly but will see them when I go to London in July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last round of visitors comes this weekend in the form of my parents. We will, of course, do some sightseeing, but most importantly we are going to talk through some wedding details, and my mom is bringing me a dress that I will most likely end up wearing, provided it looks all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-1316968373691320891?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/1316968373691320891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=1316968373691320891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1316968373691320891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1316968373691320891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/05/sisters-came.html' title='The sisters came'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rlyao3KfX2I/AAAAAAAAAEc/MiA3hm-B6ck/s72-c/DSCF1030.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-3522037810131607401</id><published>2007-05-14T08:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-14T08:39:21.912+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Westvleteren</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We got &lt;a href="http://www.sintsixtus.be/eng/index2.html"&gt;Westvleteren&lt;/a&gt;! Here is the proof:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RkgBimKLvTI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wnyjbMNLS0s/s1600-h/DSCF1024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RkgBimKLvTI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wnyjbMNLS0s/s320/DSCF1024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064299474848562482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Westvleteren beer, considered by BeerAdvocate.com and RateBeer.com to be the most enjoyable beer in the world, is brewed at the Westvleteren Trappist Abbey in Flanders. Technically, you cannot get this beer unless you actually go to the abbey. But as we were leaving the town of Gent last Friday, we saw a sign in front of a small restaurant that advertised the beer, and mercifully they let us take a couple of bottles out. We were giddy all the way home. We bought the 8% and the recently introduced pale ale 6%. We're saving the pale ale for later. Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally different subject, I recently finished the Harry Potter series, and I wanted to post one of my predictions for the last book before it comes out in July. Snape will die to save Harry's life. I am not claiming whether this will be intentional or unintentional, but it will happen. Mark my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-3522037810131607401?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/3522037810131607401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=3522037810131607401' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/3522037810131607401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/3522037810131607401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/05/westvleteren.html' title='Westvleteren'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RkgBimKLvTI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wnyjbMNLS0s/s72-c/DSCF1024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-5304474073817704990</id><published>2007-04-30T12:26:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T12:46:03.024+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Old, New, Borrowed, Blue</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tomorrow is May Day, a holiday here in Belgium. These Belgians sure like their holidays. We've got two more to go in the month of May, one celebrating the ascension of Christ, and one celebrating Pentecost, which just so happens to fall on the U.S. Memorial Day holiday. Most of the western world will be off work that day, it appears. "Except for the Chinese and Indians," one local said, cheekily. "They will work for us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But holidays also mean visitors, and so does spring! Lauri's parents roll into town today and will be here till Thursday. Some interns from the UK on the same programme as Lauri will be coming on Friday and staying till the following Wednesday. My sisters will come over the Pentecost weekend, the last weekend of May, and then the following weekend (the first weekend of June) my folks and the Dodsons will visit as a stop on their European tour. Whew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've set our wedding date as September 22 of this year and it will be in Chattanooga at New City Fellowship. Much has already been accomplished - sites confirmed, dresses chosen, preliminary invitation list drawn up. There's still much to be done, but my mother is gifted at setting priorities, and making sure we follow a timeline of sorts. Let's worry about nailing down a reception site BEFORE I concern myself with, say, how I will include blue in my outfit, referring to the old cliche. Speaking of which, I think I have or will fulfill all of these categories:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something old: a garnet brooch from Lauri's mom&lt;br /&gt;Something new: uhhh...my dress&lt;br /&gt;Something borrowed: i hope to borrow earrings to match my brooch and ring&lt;br /&gt;Something blue: maybe light blue flats, otherwise can my blue eyes count for this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having a fun and rather amusing time planning this wedding, but all in all I am really looking forward to marriage and the humdrum of life to continue. I'm not one to &lt;a href="http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/apparently-im-reliable-guardian.html"&gt;turn the spotlight on myself&lt;/a&gt;, so in all honesty my wedding day could actually be quite difficult. Like my birthday, only a hundred times worse. Still, I look at it as an important milestone and ritual that will create a record to hold us accountable before God and others. I will relish it. It will be a party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-5304474073817704990?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/5304474073817704990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=5304474073817704990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5304474073817704990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5304474073817704990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/04/old-new-borrowed-blue.html' title='Old, New, Borrowed, Blue'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-2533111823495605575</id><published>2007-04-10T08:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T08:45:54.526+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Engaged</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RhswAFatgEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5MUg7TYW_ng/s1600-h/20070408_0826.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RhswAFatgEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5MUg7TYW_ng/s400/20070408_0826.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051684185038487618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lauri rushed us out the door after the Good Friday service, as we were trying to make our dinner reservations. "What time did we reserve for?" I asked. "7:30," he replied. As it wasn't yet 7:00 I thought we were being a bit too hasty, but I said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We strolled through downtown from the church to the restaurant. Lauri quietly spoke of his childhood. He normally speaks nostalgically, so I thought nothing of it. He suddenly plopped us down on a bench in the square. I complained about a pain in my side. Without missing a beat, he asked me three questions: Will you accompany me tomorrow to buy a ring for our engagement? Will you honor me by agreeing to marry me? Will you take this brooch as a token?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had barely responded in the affirmative when an adolescent gypsy boy approached and asked us where a certain street was. Lauri said he didn't know, but the boy persisted, and as he was doing this Lauri felt a tug on his satchel. He turned around and told the boy's friends that there was no money in there. They left as quickly as they came. It all happened rather quickly, and I was thinking, why is this happening now? We just got engaged and someone tried to rob us? The nerve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We quickly recovered and decided we'd better leave the square to avoid any more unwanted encounters. We had a lovely dinner (duck for me, steak for him), complemented with slivovice, Australian shiraz, and hot chocolate with Bailey's. When we returned to Lauri's house we had a bottle of wine with his parents and then capped it off with some Napoleon brandy. We laughed and talked and called our families. It was a jolly evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-2533111823495605575?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/2533111823495605575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=2533111823495605575' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/2533111823495605575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/2533111823495605575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/04/engaged.html' title='Engaged'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RhswAFatgEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/5MUg7TYW_ng/s72-c/20070408_0826.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-7807613591920041058</id><published>2007-03-30T20:06:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T20:25:24.121+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Apparently I'm a "reliable guardian."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm taking off my "activist" hat now and replacing it with my "self-analytical" one. Over the last couple of days the Well team has gone through a gifts assessment using Myers-Briggs, Gallup StrengthsFinder, Leadership Matrix, and Character Matrix. In sum, these were my results:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ISTJ - Introversion (clear), Sensing (moderate), Thinking (moderate), Judging (moderate)&lt;br /&gt;StrengthsFinder Signature Themes (in ranking order): Intellection, Connectedness, Analytical, Input, Harmony&lt;br /&gt;Leadership Style: Missional - meaning I lead best when I am doing work and organizing things&lt;br /&gt;Character Trait: Courage - with the caution of falling into a sense of pride (thinking too lowly or highly of myself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my colleague noticed that my introversion measurement was nearly at the end of the chart (out of 30, I got a 24), her response was, "Ohhh, I'm fascinated by you!" And when someone tried to explain that he thought I might be more of a "passional leader," I explained that my sense of urgency and drive towards my goals often emerge out of a feeling of duty rather than a feeling of compassion, which resonated with other folks in the room who were struggling with placing themselves in a category. In fact, I struggled to avoid "boxing" myself throughout all of the exercises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, this process did solidify and reinforce that I am primarily introverted, introspective, and find hanging out in large groups of people exhausting rather than enlivening. What else is new? :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off Sunday to Slovakia and Hungary for Easter vacation. It's supposed to be lovely and springy next week. As we're flying in and out of Amsterdam, we'll also sneak in a few sights there. I'll post pictures upon my return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-7807613591920041058?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/7807613591920041058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=7807613591920041058' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/7807613591920041058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/7807613591920041058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/apparently-im-reliable-guardian.html' title='Apparently I&apos;m a &quot;reliable guardian.&quot;'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-9186393673653832925</id><published>2007-03-30T19:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T20:01:24.990+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I support Stop the Traffik</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rg1QPO3EMPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ig-J7U2MKy4/s1600-h/DSCF0892.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rg1QPO3EMPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ig-J7U2MKy4/s400/DSCF0892.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047778979969511666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In their efforts to prevent the sale of people, prosecute the traffickers, and protect the victims. People shouldn't be bought and sold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-9186393673653832925?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/9186393673653832925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=9186393673653832925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/9186393673653832925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/9186393673653832925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-support-stop-traffik.html' title='I support Stop the Traffik'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rg1QPO3EMPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ig-J7U2MKy4/s72-c/DSCF0892.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-6110722886518326131</id><published>2007-03-26T08:23:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T08:49:42.666+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RgdqcNZohVI/AAAAAAAAADw/6Q5kgIGMlBU/s1600-h/DSCF0887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RgdqcNZohVI/AAAAAAAAADw/6Q5kgIGMlBU/s400/DSCF0887.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046118940357985618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;200 years ago yesterday, the transatlantic slave trade was abolished in Britain. William Wilberforce MP, an evangelical, led the charge in parliament. It was a move that had a ripple effect across the world. Naturally, evangelicals have been marking him as a hero in light of the anniversary. But different groups are also using the opportunity to call attention to the modern-day slave trade, more commonly known as human trafficking. Estimates say that 800,000 people, many of them children, are trafficked each year into forced labour, servitude, and prostitution. But the numbers are only a guess. They could be much larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past month or so I have been planning our church's program as part of international "Freedom Day" events with &lt;a href="http://www.stopthetraffik.org/"&gt;Stop the Traffik&lt;/a&gt;. It took place last night and it was long, but each part was valuable. We had two women, who used to be prostitutes but are now Christians being vocationally trained by a pastor in Antwerp, sing for us. We learned more about Wilberforce and the fight to end the slave trade. We watched a clip about a TV personality from Holland who got himself arrested for "knowingly purchasing a product (chocolate) that was made by slaves," which is punishable by Dutch law. We had a word from an MEP's assistant who is working on trafficking legislation in both the European Parliament and back home in Ireland. Lastly, we got folks to fill out response cards for different ways that they can be involved with the campaign. Afterwards we had a meal together and then worshiped as a response to what we had just learned. (We even sang "Thine be the Glory," which I was excited about, since we rarely sing hymns!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my next entry I will post a picture of myself with a "Chaga mask," which is Stop the Traffik's iconic representation of a modern-day child slave. They want folks to take pictures of themselves wearing it and then post the pictures all over flickr, blogs, youtube, etc. The goal is to create a movement that people will begin to recognize and that will change public perception about the issue. Go to the website and download a mask of your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-6110722886518326131?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/6110722886518326131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=6110722886518326131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/6110722886518326131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/6110722886518326131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/freedom-day.html' title='Freedom Day'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RgdqcNZohVI/AAAAAAAAADw/6Q5kgIGMlBU/s72-c/DSCF0887.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-8627512611906834449</id><published>2007-03-17T00:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T00:32:34.209+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tapas, Mojitos, and Jesus Paradise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsokebJZ-I/AAAAAAAAADY/JqDgMYnrxpg/s1600-h/DSCF0857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsokebJZ-I/AAAAAAAAADY/JqDgMYnrxpg/s200/DSCF0857.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042668814878730210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsomubJZ_I/AAAAAAAAADg/wUIckKNdiJA/s1600-h/DSCF0865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsomubJZ_I/AAAAAAAAADg/wUIckKNdiJA/s200/DSCF0865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042668853533435890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsonebJaAI/AAAAAAAAADo/bE0qrj5MIdM/s1600-h/DSCF0867.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsonebJaAI/AAAAAAAAADo/bE0qrj5MIdM/s200/DSCF0867.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5042668866418337794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to a funk-adelic bar tonight called the "Jesus Paradise" for Carlton's birthday party, and let me tell you, it was quite the groovy place. Bright oranges, pinks, and greens made up the color schemes, and the tapas and drinks gave an exotic touch to the atmosphere. A good time was had by all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-8627512611906834449?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/8627512611906834449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=8627512611906834449' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/8627512611906834449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/8627512611906834449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/tapas-mojitos-and-jesus-paradise.html' title='Tapas, Mojitos, and Jesus Paradise'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RfsokebJZ-I/AAAAAAAAADY/JqDgMYnrxpg/s72-c/DSCF0857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-4918294965072175666</id><published>2007-03-11T23:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T23:43:11.852+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday warmth and stillness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today, not a single thing caused stress in my life. Makes for a perfect Sunday, no? It was the first truly warm day of the season. As I waited for the bus I could feel the sweat building underneath my superfluous winter coat. But in March, you can never be too sure, so I left it on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked around the Schuman neighborhood, the sun beating down on our heads (what a glorious thing), there was an uncanny stillness in the air. It was as if the warmth caused people to hush their voices and listen for the wind and rain that we had gotten so used to. But thankfully, they heard nothing and went on with their quiet lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People's demeanors change when the sun is out. They are more relaxed and do not hurry from one place to the next. As we walked we felt no urgency to find a resting place. The whole neighborhood became our house, the rays of sunlight our curtains. After lunch we fell into a deep springtime nap, with nary a sound outside the window other than the occasional moped or group of children playing on the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked again later in the afternoon through the park and past cafes. A sidewalk culture is slowly emerging out of the winter habits of fireplace gathering. The brasseries have put out their outdoor tables and chairs, and old men sit down and read their papers cheek by jowel with chatty, eager youths excited to be socializing outside again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole day I felt listless and carefree. It must have shown. Someone at church told me I looked tired. I told him no, I'm just relaxed. I had taken my burdens from the week and laid them to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-4918294965072175666?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/4918294965072175666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=4918294965072175666' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4918294965072175666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4918294965072175666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/03/sunday-warmth-and-stillness.html' title='Sunday warmth and stillness'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-5908774053448233769</id><published>2007-02-21T23:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T00:08:03.258+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Karnaval in Bergen Op Zoom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think I know now where &lt;a href="http://imdb.com/name/nm0000416/"&gt;Terry Gilliam&lt;/a&gt; gets his ideas. When we stepped into the world of carnival in the small town of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bergen-Op-Zoom"&gt;Bergen op Zoom&lt;/a&gt; in the Netherlands yesterday, I felt as though I was stepping into one of his films. We were among the ten or so people in the village who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;weren't &lt;/span&gt;costumed in some way, shape or form. The rule: gather all the junk you can find in your house and attach it to your head. Next, wear every cape or flowy cloth you own, some lace, leg warmers, and wooden clogs. And don't forget your mask, even if it makes you look like you just came out of oral surgery. Nothing was left to the imagination. Crabs were the shellfish of choice, and enlarged plastic replicas with human-like faces were hung on every facade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RdzNHaIdxwI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bvf17H5v8pE/s1600-h/DSCF0771.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RdzNHaIdxwI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bvf17H5v8pE/s320/DSCF0771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034124010650978050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was the parade. At the beginning we yawned at the stream of advertisments going by in the form of sponsored trucks and vans tossing out flyers. But it quickly morphed into the float-and-band variety. I cannot even begin to describe what this was like. Goblins, dwarves, witches, princesses, and even Sponge Bob showed up for the party. The bands all played the same song, which I wish I knew the title to, but that will have to remain a mystery. I wish I knew the meaning behind these practices (i.e. which floats were meant to drive away demons). What surprised me the most was that the whole shabang was very much a locally-driven enterprise, and that folks of all ages were involved and actually excited about it. There was no cynicism about rituals that have been tirelessly repeated since the Middle Ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RdzO3KIdxxI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZY-rJ2LdSv8/s1600-h/DSCF0830.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RdzO3KIdxxI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZY-rJ2LdSv8/s320/DSCF0830.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034125930501359378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Next time we do something like this, we will go with a larger group, and we will dress up and not care, because that's the way the locals do it. When it comes to carnival, you're all in. Otherwise, get out of town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-5908774053448233769?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/5908774053448233769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=5908774053448233769' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5908774053448233769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5908774053448233769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/02/karnaval-in-bergen-op-zoom.html' title='Karnaval in Bergen Op Zoom'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RdzNHaIdxwI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Bvf17H5v8pE/s72-c/DSCF0771.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-1204313027223463295</id><published>2007-02-18T13:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T13:27:48.824+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Communion liturgy - 18.02.07</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Child: Why do we give thanks and praise to God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pres: Because he has created everything, and has given us life. He is Lord of all, and yet loves each of us as parents should love their children. Father, for your love, we praise you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All: Father, for your love, we praise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Child: Why do we remember Jesus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Pres: Because he was sent from God and he gave up his life for us on the cross. God raised him from the dead, showing that death is not the end, but the beginning of a new life, the life Jesus showed us how to live. Father, for your Son, we praise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All: Father, for your Son, we praise you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Child: Why is this bread important?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Pres: Because the bread joins us to the life of Jesus. Broken, it is a sign of his suffering for us. It brings us to walk with him along the path to new life. Jesus, you are the living bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;All: Jesus, you are the living bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Child: Why is this wine important?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Pres: Because this wine joins us to the life of Jesus. Poured out, it is a sign of his saving love for us. It brings us to walk with him along the path to new life. Jesus, you are the true vine.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;All: Jesus, you are the true vine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We read this liturgy together in church this morning in the context of a service of baptism. Hence the questions came from a child, and we answered them. It was powerful.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-1204313027223463295?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/1204313027223463295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=1204313027223463295' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1204313027223463295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1204313027223463295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/02/communion-liturgy-180207.html' title='Communion liturgy - 18.02.07'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-5189282883966530005</id><published>2007-02-11T10:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T16:30:58.770+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Woman in Full</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Twenty-five is a nice full number, and it makes me feel like I am truly an adult. Andrea says it's the age in which you really take responsibility for your life. Mom says it's the age when you're supposed to start forgetting how old you are. While thirty is a universally recognized milestone, I think it's high time that twenty-five "got its," or however you say that. This is all to say that I am glad there are still five years until I hit that next milestone, because I have a lot to figure out between now and then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually forget to thank God for another year on my birthday. I do it at New Year's, but I think my birthday is even more significant because God has brought me into another age in my personal history, if you will. Each age feels different from the one before. And while I am still young,  God withholds much of the pain of aging despite what I might do to harm my body (i.e. standing up in my boots for so long that my toes become compressed). That is an amazing truth, if you think about it. I realize this will become less and less the case as time goes on. So I take this to heart: "Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come, and the years approach when you will say, 'I find no pleasure in them.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite being away from most of my family and friends, I did receive a few gifts from my best friend here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7hkBcHHDI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OhoYyZhcdYk/s1600-h/DSCF0729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7hkBcHHDI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OhoYyZhcdYk/s400/DSCF0729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030205842797304882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Also, some special drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7iKhcHHEI/AAAAAAAAACA/LOIzgeLK0Oc/s1600-h/DSCF0734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7iKhcHHEI/AAAAAAAAACA/LOIzgeLK0Oc/s200/DSCF0734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030206504222268482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                         &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And some delicious ribs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7jXBcHHGI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZoZcoOZobPI/s1600-h/DSCF0738.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7jXBcHHGI/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZoZcoOZobPI/s200/DSCF0738.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030207818482261090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We also celebrated by going to see The Decemberists in concert. They are not one of my favorite bands, but they put on a relatively fun show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;They sang lots of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7kKBcHHHI/AAAAAAAAACY/44E310oYZhs/s1600-h/DSCF0755.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7kKBcHHHI/AAAAAAAAACY/44E310oYZhs/s200/DSCF0755.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030208694655589490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;songs &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;about love and murder, it seemed. I hadn't heard much of their music except on Josh Daniels' NPR show and perhaps on someone else's iTunes. I hate to say this, but I am starting to feel that bands are a dime a dozen these days. I long for originality and creativity. Instead, these folks need to make money and thus put on a show they know will please a crowd. I can hardly blame them, but in the long run how will they set themselves apart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a grand birthday. It is the first birthday I've ever spent without at least one family member present, so in that way it was a bit strange. But they were with me in spirit, and I enjoyed getting inundated with e-cards, emails, and facebook greetings, as well as having a chance to call my family which I have not been very good at. I think I'll renew my New Year's resolutions to become my "26th year resolutions," and add "better communication" to the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-5189282883966530005?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/5189282883966530005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=5189282883966530005' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5189282883966530005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5189282883966530005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/02/woman-in-full.html' title='A Woman in Full'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Rc7hkBcHHDI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OhoYyZhcdYk/s72-c/DSCF0729.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-7154732304595911518</id><published>2007-01-31T23:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T23:55:11.712+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Night in the Parliament, A Day at the Marionette Theater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tuesday night I headed back to the Members' Salon for a reception hosted by an MEP for some Christian organizations in town. It was in the same room in which I experienced &lt;a href="http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/mongolia-night.html"&gt;"Mongolia Night."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;They served us a few nibbles but as it was dinnertime it did not sate my appetite. Saw a few Well friends there, such as Miika (the Finnish version of Steve Smallman, complete with rocking klavier skills, dimples, humor, and popularity) and Laura (a true British gal who works for a social services association). We met up with a Slovak friend who was coming out of his office and proceeded to scope out the other receptions going on in the ASP building that night. There was "Stateless Nation," a reception for an exhibit on Palestine. But there was no food, and no drinks left except champagne, water, and OJ. Next we tried to sneak in to the President's reception where there was actual, real FOOD, but we didn't stand a chance of getting in. (This kind of thing only happens in the movies.) Finally we went up elevators, down escalators, and up stairs to get to a little sandwich shop that was closed. Why, oh why, in a place where socialism and equality are so highly valued, could my poor little stomach not find sustenance? As Jerry Seinfeld said, "You see why communism didn't work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon I accompanied two small children and their grandmother to a small Marionette (puppet) theater. Today's show was the life and music of Mozart. It was a bit campy but still a delight to watch. Every time Mozart's carriage would travel from Vienna to Paris or Paris to London, the kids would make clucking noises to signify the motion of the wheels over the rocky roads. It was sort of cute but got old after a while. I was hoping for a Tintin show, but Mozart was an adequate replacement. I did see Tintin puppets in the museum afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-7154732304595911518?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/7154732304595911518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=7154732304595911518' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/7154732304595911518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/7154732304595911518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/night-in-parliament-day-at-marionette.html' title='A Night in the Parliament, A Day at the Marionette Theater'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-8951061858760050429</id><published>2007-01-25T14:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T14:28:18.116+01:00</updated><title type='text'>what i did yesterday afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I danced crazily with two small children to Mozart's "Le Petite Musique de Nuit" from one of the pages in their LeapPad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doubt I'll have that experience anywhere else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-8951061858760050429?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/8951061858760050429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=8951061858760050429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/8951061858760050429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/8951061858760050429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/what-i-did-yesterday-afternoon.html' title='what i did yesterday afternoon'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-6168624336358802421</id><published>2007-01-21T23:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-22T00:30:00.688+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Leon Spilliaert</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Went to an exhibition of early 20th century Belgian artist Leon Spilliaert at the &lt;a href="http://www.fine-arts-museum.be/site/FR/default.asp"&gt;Musees royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique&lt;/a&gt; yesterday. I like his name because it makes me think he was "spilling over with art." Of course, "spill" probably means "to play" in Flemish, in which case you could say he was "playing with art." Either way it tickles me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Influenced intellectually and artistically by the likes of Nietzsche and Picasso, Spilliaert experimented with symbolism, expressionism, surrealism, and even Japanese engravings in his art. Out of that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;melange &lt;/span&gt;of thinking and creating emerged his unique style. He used precise lines to create semi-distorted depictions of people and places. He was born in Oostende on the Belgian coast and thus loved to paint pictures of dikes, beaches, and bathers. In the exhibit there were lots of 'em. But he also whipped out some fascinating paintings of women, different seasons, and even Elijah's chariot and Eve and the serpent. He did a lot of self-portraits that are quite striking, and not always flattering. Needless to say, it is difficult to put this man in an artistic-period-box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I can't seem to find&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;images of a couple of my favorite paintings that I saw at the exhibition anywhere on the internet. Here is one that represents his work well, entitled "Vertigo, Magic Staircase":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RbP15EOjThI/AAAAAAAAABg/Gytw_qxw-04/s1600-h/Leon+Spilliaert+-+Vertigo,+Magic+Staircase.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RbP15EOjThI/AAAAAAAAABg/Gytw_qxw-04/s400/Leon+Spilliaert+-+Vertigo,+Magic+Staircase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022628370184359442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And here is one of his quirky self-portraits:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RbP2SkOjTiI/AAAAAAAAABo/et6T1EIWmM4/s1600-h/spilliaert-leon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RbP2SkOjTiI/AAAAAAAAABo/et6T1EIWmM4/s400/spilliaert-leon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022628808271023650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;These are both in black and white, but he did do many color paintings as well, especially later in his career. I really like his style.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-6168624336358802421?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/6168624336358802421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=6168624336358802421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/6168624336358802421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/6168624336358802421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/leon-spilliaert.html' title='Leon Spilliaert'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RbP15EOjThI/AAAAAAAAABg/Gytw_qxw-04/s72-c/Leon+Spilliaert+-+Vertigo,+Magic+Staircase.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-9128969047910455316</id><published>2007-01-20T03:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T03:22:11.782+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Woohoo, I'm posting this before Laura!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/urIQSbn9RqA' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/urIQSbn9RqA'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"What is that keeps you going, Jesus Christ or Pat Robertson's protein shakes?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-9128969047910455316?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/9128969047910455316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=9128969047910455316' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/9128969047910455316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/9128969047910455316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/woohoo-i-posting-this-before-laura.html' title='Woohoo, I&amp;#39;m posting this before Laura!'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-1613876018487231011</id><published>2007-01-14T23:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-14T23:35:34.569+01:00</updated><title type='text'>So lovely to have visitors</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Come visit us in Brussels. Our most recent dinner/hang-out guests were Lydia and John Young, who on their way to Japan are helping out some MTW folks here who need people to watch their kids during the month of January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Raquz0OjTgI/AAAAAAAAABU/i2lXM35Qj7U/s1600-h/DSCF0707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Raquz0OjTgI/AAAAAAAAABU/i2lXM35Qj7U/s320/DSCF0707.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020016939874078210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Among those MTW folks is also one of my good friends from college, Amanda Lewis. It was an unexpected surprise to see her in church last week. Other potential future visitors include cousin Emily Belz who is studying in France, other Covenant students studying in Slovakia or coming here for spring break, my boyfriend's parents, my sisters who will be studying/interning in London in the summer, and my parents who will be in Budapest in May (along with the Dodsons). Really, once you're over the big pond, Brussels is only a hop, skip and a jump away from many places in Europe. So if you find yourself in this neck of the woods, be sure to look us up. We can cook you dinner and take you out to our favorite haunts. Consider this an open invitation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-1613876018487231011?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/1613876018487231011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=1613876018487231011' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1613876018487231011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1613876018487231011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/so-lovely-to-have-visitors.html' title='So lovely to have visitors'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/Raquz0OjTgI/AAAAAAAAABU/i2lXM35Qj7U/s72-c/DSCF0707.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-3640026644071143408</id><published>2007-01-05T21:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T21:30:55.401+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Christmas break</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kind of a boring post, but I just wanted to recap my Christmas.  During my time in the states, I:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;went caroling the night I flew into Boston&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;drove two days in a rented car with all the stuff I left in my sisters' apartment and with a Friday night stopover in DC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;came all the way from overseas only to find myself helping to lead the singing at a church I haven't attended in nearly two years (gotta love Wade Williams' faith in his choir alumni)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;saw Dave perform in a Christmas Eve service and briefly re-united with my faculty adviser at said service&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;sang "While Shepherds Watched" to the tune of "How Sweet and Awesome" - it works, try it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;woke up first on Christmas morning due to different body clock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;upon receiving a pilates DVD as a present, did pilates three times in the past week&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;met up with friends Todd, Cole, Ana Maria, Tacy, Elizabeth, Heidi, Caitlin &amp; family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;went with the family to see "The Good Shepherd"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;had a huge Chinese dinner, courtesy of Joe, with the Drexlers, Schimpfs, and Gienapps&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;played pool with sisters, Jon, MC, and Nate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;went to Asheville for New Year's where we hung out with more relatives, started work on an "everyone can sing" worship song book, went bowling, watched the Simpsons and football, and went hiking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;spent more time with my parents than I have in a long while, and admired my mother for her brave recovery from knee surgery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;talked to my boyfriend every single day at least once, and used Joe's Macbook to do webcam - highly recommended for all separated couples and friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;But perhaps the greatest thing that happened to me was the discovery of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_colbert_report/index.jhtml"&gt;Colbert Report&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;. I'd heard this fellow's name before, but I can't believe I'd never heard more about him or watched his show. I feel a bit behind, but I'm so glad the aquaintance was made. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_colbert_report/index.jhtml"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-3640026644071143408?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/3640026644071143408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=3640026644071143408' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/3640026644071143408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/3640026644071143408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2007/01/back-from-christmas-break.html' title='Back from Christmas break'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-4779358380914117066</id><published>2006-12-17T23:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T23:43:43.405+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas choir</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today our Christmas choir from the Well sang in front of St. Katherine's church at the Christmas market before our evening nativity service that would take place inside. This was the most crowded I had ever scene the market and folks continuously streamed past us, which resulted in us handing out nearly all of our flyers advertising the service. We also got some folks to sing along and clap and take home videos (well, we couldn't really help that). Here we are, very close to freezing but having a grand time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXCkN6fJDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/e-u17mPXXcM/s1600-h/DSCF0607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXCkN6fJDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/e-u17mPXXcM/s400/DSCF0607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009624087985595442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The Well rented out this church (which is Catholic but apparently has a large Russian Orthodox community) for the evening. It is currently exhibiting a collection of Russian icons and paintings. Many people were strolling in to get a look. But our service started at 5:00 and thus we essentially overtook the sanctuary and claimed the space with a giant screen, a keyboard, and some microphones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beginning of the service our tiny choir processed in, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a capella,&lt;/span&gt; to "Joy to the World," having to literally push our way through groups of people to get to the front. Such a strange experience. We sang a couple more carols before the organist accompanied us on "Hark the Herald." For some reason, we were way off rhythm with the organ and muddled our way through the entire hymn. But I think that was the largest organ, in the largest cathedral, that I have ever sung with in a choir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The service itself was quite simple, with the children calmly presenting the nativity scene. In the backdrop there was a montage of photos of the same children acting out the story of Jesus' birth. I thought it was very creative. However, I was disappointed with the music they sang because all along there was an under-track of fake synthesized children singing, emanating from the keyboard. I would have preferred to hear their simple voices reverberating throughout the cavernous stucture. But here they are in all their garb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXE8d6fJEI/AAAAAAAAAA4/pOk7ijxudjE/s1600-h/DSCF0608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXE8d6fJEI/AAAAAAAAAA4/pOk7ijxudjE/s320/DSCF0608.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009626703620678722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We did the usual "Silent Night" in several languages and held our lit candles. Afterwards we turned around and found that some of the volunteers had set up a little cafe with free drinks and desserts. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXGAd6fJFI/AAAAAAAAABA/HDJm8L-lMDA/s1600-h/DSCF0611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXGAd6fJFI/AAAAAAAAABA/HDJm8L-lMDA/s200/DSCF0611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009627871851783250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The chairs that were normally used for contemplating icons or praying to the saints had been placed around small round tables. Needless to say, I had never seen anything like it previously. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I go home in four days! Looking forward to relaxing a bit, seeing the family and friends, and revelling in all my cultural baggage only to have it challenged and re-evaluated when I return. The one thing I fear more than possible weather problems (which are not forecast at the moment, but you never know) is dealing with jet-lag. I could be pretty miserable for a couple of days at least. Oh well, it is worth it to go home and be rejuvenated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-4779358380914117066?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/4779358380914117066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=4779358380914117066' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4779358380914117066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/4779358380914117066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-choir.html' title='Christmas choir'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RYXCkN6fJDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/e-u17mPXXcM/s72-c/DSCF0607.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-1735514279858993517</id><published>2006-12-10T23:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T23:35:37.591+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Antwerpen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXyKUDlbTCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Vf1ks7HPfxs/s1600-h/DSCF0587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 297px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXyKUDlbTCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Vf1ks7HPfxs/s320/DSCF0587.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007028962893450274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Antwerp is only a 45 minute train ride from Brussels, so as yesterday was the grand opening of its Christmas market we decided to take a day trip. We didn't do any of the touristy things since I was there mostly to buy Christmas presents and it turned out that my guidebook didn't even have Antwerp in it, so we'll have to go back sometime and scope out some of the Rubens stuff going on. Andrew, any more ideas of what to do there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antwerp felt essentially like a smaller version of Brussels, except that it's a Flemish-speaking town and its major pedestrian shopping street felt a lot wider and bigger. The Christmas market was also very similar to the one in Brussels. The smell of grease from all the frite and waffle stands is permanently engrained in my olfactory memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was also a strange vibe to the city, although we couldn't put our finger on it. We saw live models in windows, pre-teens with pink hair and tripped-out costumes, golden soldiers/angels/children on top of houses, and even a hand chair akin to the one Buster owns in Arrested Development:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXyHtjlbTBI/AAAAAAAAAAY/fS2PSchbjNY/s1600-h/DSCF0588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXyHtjlbTBI/AAAAAAAAAAY/fS2PSchbjNY/s320/DSCF0588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007026102445231122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;If only I could take it home with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My overall impression of Antwerp was not as good as Brugge (which I blogged about in this blog's previous life), but I think there's more to it than I saw yesterday and I want to go back in the spring perhaps and explore a bit more. We did happen upon a pub which gave us a taste of old Flanders. It was quite cozy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, this week I am singing in a Christmas choir which will perform at an English class's Christmas party, a couple of senior homes, and finally at the Christmas market Sunday evening. 'Twill be quite an experience, no doubt. More on that next weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-1735514279858993517?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/1735514279858993517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=1735514279858993517' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1735514279858993517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/1735514279858993517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/12/antwerpen.html' title='Antwerpen'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXyKUDlbTCI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Vf1ks7HPfxs/s72-c/DSCF0587.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-5668578277117893119</id><published>2006-12-02T22:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T23:24:02.956+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Kerstmarkt/Marche de Noel and St. Nicholas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today I went to my first ever bona fide Christmas market in Europe. I have never managed to be on the continent in December, so I wasted no time in scoping out the territory on this, the second day of December. The market has a cozy atmosphere with plenty of stalls, but I'll have to say that the food and drink is the major draw. Piles of steaming lunchtime fillers (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;escargots, champignons, &lt;/span&gt;and good old potatoes&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;), &lt;/span&gt;waffles, crepes, candy apples, sausages, cheese, and hot wraps were available. Then of course there is all the mulled wine, which I did not try today but plan to try at a later date. Everything smelled delectable. Beyond the stalls there are two carousels, an ice skating rink, and a ferris wheel. (I was a bit startled, as I munched on my white chocolate-covered apple, at how quickly the wheel rotated.) Overall, a fun place, although it lacks the myriads of homemade crafts that I remember seeing in the Prague Easter market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to the Grand' Place to see what Christmas-y type things were going on there, and happened upon Ol' St. Nick and his helper Black Pete:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXH54NIlHkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IeYxqlaGC90/s1600-h/DSCF0541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXH54NIlHkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IeYxqlaGC90/s400/DSCF0541.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004055404978970178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Actually, there seemed to be many Black Petes, and they were all 20-something white men with their hands and faces painted black. Was Black Pete the devil made St. Nicholas' slave? An African slave that he bought out of bondage? Or just one of his helpers that acquires soot after jumping through chimneys and delivering presents? Who knows. In any case, the Dutch tradition is that St. Nicholas and his helpers arrive in each town and greet the residents and throw candy to the children. This St. Nick was particularly quiet, and, in keeping with his character, purposely sought out small children to give sweets to. I rather liked his reserved, stately demeanor. I've seen a lot of obnoxious Santas in my lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Santa, the Belgians accuse Coca-Cola of "inventing Santa Claus." I don't know how to confirm that claim. Does anyone else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-5668578277117893119?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/5668578277117893119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=5668578277117893119' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5668578277117893119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/5668578277117893119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/12/kerstmarktmarche-de-noel-and-st.html' title='Kerstmarkt/Marche de Noel and St. Nicholas'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_1I_F_lcchKs/RXH54NIlHkI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IeYxqlaGC90/s72-c/DSCF0541.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-116470663541689923</id><published>2006-11-28T10:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T22:44:04.600+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mongolia night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="http://theseoultimes.com/ST/db2/images/782-20040723144558.jpg" src="http://theseoultimes.com/ST/db2/images/782-20040723144558.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do &lt;/span&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-116470663541689923?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/116470663541689923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=116470663541689923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116470663541689923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116470663541689923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/mongolia-night.html' title='Mongolia night'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-116396045136434038</id><published>2006-11-19T18:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T19:20:51.420+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo La Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/1600/DSCF0514.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/200/DSCF0514.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Went to see &lt;a href="http://www.yolatengo.com/"&gt;Yo La Tengo&lt;/a&gt; last night at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ancienne Belgique.&lt;/span&gt; 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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/1600/DSCF0519.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/200/DSCF0519.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/1600/DSCF0519.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-116396045136434038?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/116396045136434038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=116396045136434038' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116396045136434038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116396045136434038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/yo-la-crazy.html' title='Yo La Crazy'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-116328429166077955</id><published>2006-11-11T23:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T07:55:30.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoover and Belgium: cleaning up history</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It appears that the state of Iowa and the country of Belgium have ties that long precede me. &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today at the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.trabel.com/brussel/brussels-museums-army.htm"&gt;Museum of the Army and Military History &lt;/a&gt;I learned that Iowa's not-so-favorite son Herbert Hoover, long before he was elected U.S. president, headed the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Commission for the Relief of Belgium&lt;/span&gt;, 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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hoover &lt;/span&gt;to their language, which means "to help." It is said that the effort fed 10 million civilians during the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this discovery amusing since Hoover has an historical reputation as a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;laissez-faire &lt;/span&gt;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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;much &lt;/span&gt;as his successor Roosevelt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-116328429166077955?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/116328429166077955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=116328429166077955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116328429166077955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116328429166077955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/hoover-and-belgium-cleaning-up-history.html' title='Hoover and Belgium: cleaning up history'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-116293809826847385</id><published>2006-11-07T22:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T23:35:16.370+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cross-cultural political discourse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;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: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dialogue&lt;/span&gt;. 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me. &lt;/span&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I leave it up to you, blog-reader, to assess for yourself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-116293809826847385?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/116293809826847385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=116293809826847385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116293809826847385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116293809826847385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/cross-cultural-political-discourse.html' title='Cross-cultural political discourse'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37094172.post-116259322702707149</id><published>2006-11-03T23:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T23:33:47.026+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Baseball v. Sleep: Baseball wins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/1600/DSCF0383.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7253/3868/320/DSCF0383.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;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. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/37094172-116259322702707149?l=annainbrussels.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/feeds/116259322702707149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=37094172&amp;postID=116259322702707149' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116259322702707149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/37094172/posts/default/116259322702707149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://annainbrussels.blogspot.com/2006/11/baseball-v-sleep-baseball-wins.html' title='Baseball v. Sleep: Baseball wins'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16050002018870870294</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
