Taizé

Have you ever spent a week at a monastery in the middle of nowhere living with the Monks, doing absolutely nothing but eat, sleep, and pray?

I  have =]

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First Snow

It sure took its time getting here. It would have been nice to have a White Christmas. Still, better late than never. =]

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Mmmm, Yummy :)

I'm starting to really like the way these Belgians do Holidays. When they take vacation time, there is no messing around. They take that stuff seriously. None of this "three-day-weekend" nonsense, no sir! If they're gonna take a break, they are gonna take the entire week, gosh-dangit! Heck, while they're at it, why not take two? :)

But even better than that is the way they find any excuse to include FOOD as part of the celebration. Just imagine, and entire nation of people who share my love of guzzle and grub! (And I'm talking about GOOD food, so no, the U.S. does not fit into that category.) In fact, these people love food so much, they have dedicated two separate holidays to it. That's right, not one, but TWO holidays.

Lets start with Freaking-Awesome-Food-Related-Holiday-Number-One: La Galette du Roi. Literally translated that becomes "The Kings Cake". So here is the deal: you go out to the bakery and you buy a cake. But be careful! This isn't your average, every day cake! No, this is a very special cake with a very special surprise waiting inside.

The game is simple. Everyone gets a piece of the super special cake. Everyone eats their slice of the very special cake (very slowly and carefully, just in case the special surprise decides to break your tooth or. . I don't know, choke you or whatever.) The person who find the special little surprise in their piece is crowned Le Roi (the King) for the day.  Awesome, right? =] The idea behind the holiday actually celebrates the day when the three Kings found the stable with the newborn baby Jesus waiting inside, but now that most of Europe is non-religious, its pretty much just an excuse to eat cake.

All hail King Alexander and Queen Maman-D!

Now on to awesome-food-related-holiday-number-two: La Chandeleur. Or as I like to call it, "Stuff your face with crêpes day". There really isn't much more of an explanation that I can give. It is simply a super special day where it is socially acceptable to eat ridiculous amounts of crêpes until you are to the point of bursting. (Good news for people like me who would gladly do that anyway ;) 

The trick with this little holiday is about luck. Apparently if you manage to flip the very first crêpe using only your right hand, you will have good luck for the entire year. HOWEVER. . . there is a catch. You must roll up the magical-luck-bringing-crêpe and place it above your refrigerator. Then you leave it there until "La Chandeleur" of the next year. (I don't know if having a rodent problem is their idea of good luck, but it seems to me like that is the only thing that "magical crêpe" is going to bring sitting up there all year. But that's just me.) 

Honestly though, this country is so perfect for me its almost spooky. Or at least, it would be if I wasn't so busy loving every minute of it. I mean, a national holiday dedicated to eating crêpes all day? You may as well just name the Holiday after me. =] 

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Moving Day

Have I ever told you how much I hate goodbyes? There is something so final about them that just absolutely terrifies me. These last few months, I have grown to love Marc and Frederique more than I have ever thought could be possible. They have lead me through the chaos and confusion of my first four months as an exchange student. I will always be grateful to them for taking me into their house and welcoming me into their home.

This experience has been like reading a good book. . . you jump into it with a mixture of nervous excitement, not knowing what grand adventures the pages are going to lead you through. You might be a little timid at first, but word by word, page by page, the book begins to suck you in. You are completely captivated by its story. Then suddenly, before you are ready, you've reached the final chapter. You try to slow down a little, to cling to the last bits of adventure the novel has to offer, but somewhere in the back of your mind you know the end is near. Then it comes, and you are left with an emptiness that can only be filled by the words waiting for you in the sequel. . . And as much as I hate goodbyes, it is time for me to move on to that second book.

Thats right, guys and gals. I have reached a milestone in my exchange experience. I am officially on to host family number two. :]

Moving Day was an absolute DISASTER. So many emotions were going through my head, I thought I might explode. . . And honestly, I'm surprised I didn't. I was stressed for the upcoming exams, sad to be leaving my first host family, excited to meet my second family, terrified that they wouldn't like me, and still so incredibly grateful to even be here at all, all at ONE time. How is that even possible?! I was so busy trying (and failing) to keep my emotions in check, I forgot the most important part of moving out. . . Packing.

I don't know if this was my subconsciences way of rebelling against the move or what, but this is what my room looked like right before I broke down and started packing. . . two hours before it was time to leave. Procrastination at its finest.

And this is after. Do you see what I mean when I say it left me feeling empty?

Fortunately the emptiness only lasted as long as the 20 minute ride fro, Wezembeek-Oppem to Laeken. I was welcomed by my second host family with open arms and warm smiles. I immediately felt like a member of the family. They even left me a cute little welcome-home note :)

This is my new room. Isn't it cute? :) It didn't take me long at all to find my place in this family. I feel perfectly at home.

I am still absolutely terrified by not knowing what stories these pages will bring, but that's half the fun of it. :) I am ready to get started on this sequel.

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You've Got Mail

Nothing brings me the same kind of joy as coming home to find a neat little envelope with my name on it waiting for me there. Email is great and all (and there is NO way I would survive this experience without Skype) but there is something uniquely thrilling about a little old fashioned communication.

ONLY my Daddy would send a Christmas letter with a sketch of a Zombie saying "Have a Merry Christmas, or I'll eat your brains!". I guess its no mystery where I get my dorkiness from, eh?

I got a special kick out of the letters from the Barton girls. My favorite line came from Rachel, "You are beautiful like a rose". Can I get a "awwwww"? =] This is a drawing of me at the Eiffel Tower by Tyler. I seriously have the greatest family.

But the great thing about having an awesome family is that sometimes you get more than a little envelope. . . you get a giant package full of all sorts of goodies. =]

I left the packages to be opened at Christmas, but I couldn't resist the Giant sock. I couldn't help myself, it was practically begging to be opened.

Yes, that is me kissing a box of Nerds. You don't understand, I was excited. =]

Thank you, Mommy and Daddy. I love you.

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St. Nicholas

December has always been one of my favorite months of the year. . . Okay, I realize I say that practically every month, but you have to admit December is pretty awesome. Its a month of giving and a month of recieving. . . but even more than that it is a month of anticipation. I'll be the first to admit, by the time December 25 rolls around I start to get a little impatient.

Well one of the perks of being a temporary inhabitant of Belgium is that I didn't have to wait very long for Jolly Old St. Nicholas to pay his yearly visit.


Thats right, St Nicholas has already come to Brussels, and he left behind a few treasures.

A box FULL of chocolate. I've managed to keep exchange-student-weight-gain to a minimum so far, but I get the feeling that that is about to change. . .

St. Nicholas must really love me. My very own music box playing "La vie en rose"? Perfection.

But wait, it gets better. You see, here in this magical land of Belgium, St. Nick and Santa Clause are two COMPLETELY different people. (For my Belgian buddies reading this, back in the states we kinda fuzed the two together into one Super-Christmas-being.) That means that not only did I get a day of present opening three whole weeks in advance, but I don't have to give up my regularly scheduled Christmas to do so. St. Nicholas may have already come and gone, but Santa is still on his way!

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Catch-up

It seems my posts are becoming fewer and farther between. I don't know why I keep letting myself go for an entire month without a single update, especially when I have in no way run out of things to talk about. I guess I'm just tired (this whole being an exchange student thing is EXHAUSTING), or maybe I have a re-occuring case of writers block. I don't know. I have plenty of excuses, but the bottom line is I need to capture these memories bouncing around inside my skull and transform them into words before I loose them all and spend the rest of my life regretting my silence.

I told myself I would never do this, but since this Blog is as much for memory-keepings sake as it is for keeping you up to date, its time for us to play a little game of catch-me-up.

Since I spoke to you last, I have had about a kajillion adventures. (And yes, kajillion is a word. Trust me.) Every day has something new and exciting to offer, which makes choosing stories to tell you practically impossible. . . but the one experience I just haven't been able to get out of my mind is the night I saw Anna Vinnitkaya in concert. (Apparently she is a really famous pianist, but I had never heard of her before that night. Then again, I'm not exactly up to date on who is who in the world of classical music. . .)

It was my very first full fledged classical concert. Before that night, the closest thing I had ever seen to a classical concert was the San Juan High Band, which isn't exactly what you would call professional. Not that you guys in the Band aren't great and all, but this was the REAL DEAL. I had to wear a fancy dress and everything.

I have to admit, when Marc and Mamma-D told me they had reserved a place for me at this shin-dig, I wasn't exactly thrilled. I mean, I love music as much as the next person, but this just did not sound appealing. By the end of the night, however, I had a complete change of heart. This is going to sound silly (and you are allowed to laugh), but the sounds spilling from that stage made me feel like Cinderella at the Prince's Ball. All I wanted to do was find the nearest guy who could pass for Prince Charming and dance with him until the clock stroke 12'. I was so in love with the music she played, I went looking for her after the concert and had her sign my ticket. =]

The next week, Marc told me he bought tickets to another event. This time it was a Modern Dance performance. Now I had heard a thing or two about Modern Dancing before, and none of it was very positive. . . But the Vinnitkaya concert had been so insanely incredible that I decided to trust Marc and just go for it.

Turns out that was a BAD decision. The "performance" started at 7:00, and after waiting for about an hour and a half for the thing to start, I realized that the people limping around the stage and yelling random jibberish were the "dancers" and the awkward jerking spasms they were making with thier limbs was the "dance".  . . .

I couldn't make myself take any pictures. It was too appaling. Ugh, I don't even wanna talk about it. Lets move on before my gag reflex kicks in.



As completely horrific as that weekend was, the next one made up for with its insane beautey. I spent all day Friday and part of the day Saturday hiking through the woods of Luxembourg. (Which, by the way, is a itsy bitsy little country in between Belgium and Germany. That means my total of foreign-countries-visited is now at the magical number of three.)

When I say hiking, I really mean walking. I suppose when you are from Utah, and you just so happen to be the Grandchild of Winston Hurst, you have a very specific image in mind of what a "hike" is. Although the scenery was beaufiful and the distance covered fairly substantial, that little excersion simply did not earn the title of "hike". It was still nice to get away fromt the city life for a while and breathe a little fresh air again.

It only got better from there. The next weekend was my favorite day of the entire year. It's the day when I get to stuff my face with all kinds of delicious foods, and nobody else cares because they are all doing it too. I'm talking, of course, about THANKSGIVING!!!

Now, I know what you are thinking. . . Its something along the lines of

"Wait a minute, Thanksgiving is an American holiday. Isn't she in Belgium?"

 The answer, my friends, is yes. Thanksgiving IS an American holiday, and I AM in Belgium living with a Belgian culturaled family. . . But Turkey Day is just such a happy day, I couldn't help myself. I cheated. I got together with my American pals and had myself a Thanksgiving Dinner.

 I regret nothing.

See that girl next to me with the beautiful smile? Her name is Brooklynn Rasmussen. She is one of my favorite people in the entire universe. She is pretty much amazing. End of story. (Oh, and the girl behind the camera is pretty awesome too. You can't see her, but she is Beautiful. Her name is Alexa)  =]

And of course it wouldn't be the Holidays without a little display of clumbsyness on my part. Apparently plastic forks cannot handle very large amounts of force at one time. . . I learned that the hard way. And somehow fork-snapping-in-two equals stuffing-all-over-lap. Don't ask me how, but its true.

And so . . . yeah. That is pretty much my November in a nut-shell. A very small nutshell crammed full of all kinds of happiness, but a nutshell none the less. =]

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