Old, New, Borrowed, Blue

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."

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.

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:

Something old: a garnet brooch from Lauri's mom
Something new: uhhh...my dress
Something borrowed: i hope to borrow earrings to match my brooch and ring
Something blue: maybe light blue flats, otherwise can my blue eyes count for this?

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 turn the spotlight on myself, 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!

Engaged

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.

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?

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!

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.

Apparently I'm a "reliable guardian."

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:

ISTJ - Introversion (clear), Sensing (moderate), Thinking (moderate), Judging (moderate)
StrengthsFinder Signature Themes (in ranking order): Intellection, Connectedness, Analytical, Input, Harmony
Leadership Style: Missional - meaning I lead best when I am doing work and organizing things
Character Trait: Courage - with the caution of falling into a sense of pride (thinking too lowly or highly of myself)

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.

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? :-)

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.

I support Stop the Traffik

In their efforts to prevent the sale of people, prosecute the traffickers, and protect the victims. People shouldn't be bought and sold.

Freedom Day

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.

For the past month or so I have been planning our church's program as part of international "Freedom Day" events with Stop the Traffik. 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!!)

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.

Tapas, Mojitos, and Jesus Paradise

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.

Sunday warmth and stillness

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Karnaval in Bergen Op Zoom

I think I know now where Terry Gilliam gets his ideas. When we stepped into the world of carnival in the small town of Bergen op Zoom 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 weren't 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.


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.

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.

Communion liturgy - 18.02.07

Child: Why do we give thanks and praise to God?
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.
All: Father, for your love, we praise you.

Child: Why do we remember Jesus?
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.
All: Father, for your Son, we praise you.

Child: Why is this bread important?
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.
All: Jesus, you are the living bread.

Child: Why is this wine important?
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.
All: Jesus, you are the true vine.

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.

A Woman in Full

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.

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.'"

Despite being away from most of my family and friends, I did receive a few gifts from my best friend here.


Also, some special drinks.
And some delicious ribs.











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. They sang lots of songs 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?

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.

A Night in the Parliament, A Day at the Marionette Theater

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 "Mongolia Night." 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."

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.

what i did yesterday afternoon

I danced crazily with two small children to Mozart's "Le Petite Musique de Nuit" from one of the pages in their LeapPad.

Doubt I'll have that experience anywhere else.

Leon Spilliaert

Went to an exhibition of early 20th century Belgian artist Leon Spilliaert at the Musees royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique 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.

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 melange 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.

Unfortunately, I can't seem to find 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":


And here is one of his quirky self-portraits:

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.

Woohoo, I'm posting this before Laura!

"What is that keeps you going, Jesus Christ or Pat Robertson's protein shakes?"

So lovely to have visitors

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.

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.

Back from Christmas break

Kind of a boring post, but I just wanted to recap my Christmas. During my time in the states, I:

• went caroling the night I flew into Boston
• 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
• 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)
• saw Dave perform in a Christmas Eve service and briefly re-united with my faculty adviser at said service
• sang "While Shepherds Watched" to the tune of "How Sweet and Awesome" - it works, try it!
• woke up first on Christmas morning due to different body clock
• upon receiving a pilates DVD as a present, did pilates three times in the past week
• met up with friends Todd, Cole, Ana Maria, Tacy, Elizabeth, Heidi, Caitlin & family
  
• went with the family to see "The Good Shepherd"
• had a huge Chinese dinner, courtesy of Joe, with the Drexlers, Schimpfs, and Gienapps
• played pool with sisters, Jon, MC, and Nate
• 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
• spent more time with my parents than I have in a long while, and admired my mother for her brave recovery from knee surgery
  
• 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

But perhaps the greatest thing that happened to me was the discovery of the Colbert Report. 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.

Christmas choir

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:

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.

At the beginning of the service our tiny choir processed in, a capella, 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.

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:

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. 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.

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.

Antwerpen

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?

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.


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:


If only I could take it home with me.

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.

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.

Kerstmarkt/Marche de Noel and St. Nicholas

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 (escargots, champignons, and good old potatoes), 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.

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:

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.

Speaking of Santa, the Belgians accuse Coca-Cola of "inventing Santa Claus." I don't know how to confirm that claim. Does anyone else?

Mongolia night

Did you know that 2006 marks the 800th year of the existence of the Mongolian state? Yes, they've been around a good long while. I attended an event last night that was meant to celebrate Mongolian culture and recognize this milestone in its history. Unfortunately, I didn't end up learning much about Mongolia because there were far too many people there (free food and drink was advertised) and I got caught up in a couple of conversations with some fellows from New Zealand who work on human rights. One of them really liked to talk about himself.


"I'm really blessed to be working there. I don't own anything in the world. I'm not married and I have no home to go back to. I'm not a scholar. These academics and politicians, they just talk. I actually do things, get things done. I've helped so many people. This is reality. I've been to Mongolia thirty times. 99% of these people have never been there, they don't know what it's like. I was just in Ulaan Baatar, in fact. By the way, here's my card, and you should come to Macau and I'll show you around."


And on and on. But I do admire his zeal and his commitment to his work. He's been there 20 years, never went to college, and learned Mandarin "on the streets."

There was some traditional music played and traditional food served. At one point the servers brought out dumplings and placed them in our hands. They were so hot that I could barely hold them. I would have laughed out loud were it not for the scalding I was undergoing at the moment. Later they brought out Mongolian beef and noodles and the measley four trays they had were empty within five minutes. Apparently there was some cashmere being sold but I guess I never made it to that corner of the room. It was so warm in there that I was sweating, and when I walked outside at the end of the evening into the late November air, I took off my sweater and welcomed the cold.