A tragic day for Liege

Just adding this in case any one reads or hears about Liege on the news in NZ and wonders if I am okay. I am. The same cannot be said for 4 others - two of them teenagers who were killed today. I was at home  as I am surplus to requirements at school this week  (the students have exams this week in the morning and everyone goes home afterwards). Granny returned unexpectedly. She had been in the city about to go to her university course (today's was on Gaugin) but was unable to get a bus. Students told her that many of the buses weren't running and that something had happened in the centre of the city.

 Granny managed to get a bus home  about 1.30 and when she told me something had happened, we went on the internet. There was quite a bit of info on the internet including some short video taken on cellphones. Some of the info was contradictory but eventually it transpired that a 32 year old man who was sentenced to nearly 5 years in prison in 2008 had thrown 3  grenades  at a bus shelter where people were waiting for the bus in the middle of the city - Place St Lambert. The man let off a few rounds into the with a kalashnikov (sp?)  and later killed himself. Four people are dead and the latest report put the injured at 75.

 St Lambert is very busy at this time of the year and especially at lunchtime: it is the place of the Christmas market and also has the mall: Galleries St Lambert as well as the Palais de Justice. I often go there myself. In fact it was about the only place Jo got to see of Liege city when she was here.

Guy-Michel was there when the attack happened but thankfully he is alright physically. He called Chantal to come and collect him because his car was stuck in the parking building in St Lambert but when Chantal arrived, there were more shots and they had to take refuge for an hour in a nearby picture theatre until the police said that it was safe to come out. Fanny, their daughter, had been at St Lambert 15 minutes beforehand and was locked in at her college which is near St Lambert. A friend of hers has been injured.

I feel very shocked and I wasn't even there. I've always felt so safe here (although I always have a good hold of my bag). I suppose it is the randomness of the violence which is so scary. A 15 year old, a 17 year old and a 75 year old are already dead and all they were doing was waiting at a bus stop. What a mad world we live in. If you want to read more, here's a link to the Guardian News (Yes I know it's British but it is in English http://www.guardian.co.uk/global/blog/2011/dec/13/belgium-attack-grenades-thrown-at-bus-stop-in-liege-live-updates If you want to read about it in French: http://www.lesoir.be/regions/liege/2011-12-13/liege-deux-adolescents-et-une-femme-tues-l-auteur-de-la-fusillade-s-est-suicide-883451.php

Dining out and eating in

Last night, I dined at Blanca's apartment in Liege. She is from El Salvadore and she had invited me and a couple of other adult students from our French course to dinner. As I was finishing late at school ( I finish at 4:10 on Fridays - but I don't start until 11am), I decided to have a wander around the city centre before going to Blanca's. I was in luck because it turned out that last night was the first night of the Christmas markets. They set up lots of little wooden chalets which sell anything from alcohol to Christmas decorations. Mostly they have something to do with Christmas. It gets dark here about 5.30 now so all the Christmas lights were on and it looked quite stunning in St Lambert. As they say in French, there was 'beaucoup de monde' - lots of people and I felt just a little bit homesick. Luckily about that time, Blanca phoned to say all was ready and did I need any further directions to find her place.

Not long after, I had climbed the seven flights of stairs and was comfortably ensconced on her sofa sipping water (she did offer wine but I thought I'd wait for the others).  I then learnt a little of her life story - she left El Salvadore over 20 years ago and  is married to a Belgian man. She lived in Greece for 5 years but when her husband got cancer, they moved back to Belgium. He is currently back in Greece after having survived cancer. Blanca wants to return to Greece as she enjoyed it there and has a workshop - she is a ceramic artist, but she is currently studying French and Greek and making ceramics while she waits for the Greek economy to improve. (She showed me some jugs, plates and bowls she had made and they were magnificent - sorry no photos as I didn't think to take my camera with me.)

Soon the other guests arrived: Michel, a Belgian neighbour; I think he was retired  - he certainly had travelled a lot; Sashinka: a Bulgarian classmate plus her daughter and boyfriend; and Monique: a Belgian woman who takes Greek classes with Blanca. She told me she was an independent midwife but you had to be very careful of the hours you worked or you would pay a lot of tax. Mostly, we spoke French - we would have been speaking French only but Sashinka's Bulgarian  boyfriend spoke Bulgarian and English - no French. Of course the speaking became freer as the red wine flowed.

Dinner was  international - a Thai dish of poulet au coco, rice, a couscous salad, a Belgian green salad made with chicons (endives) and ratatouille. Delicious! This was followed by Poivres Belle Helene - pears cooked in a syrup which are then covered in chocolate. Yum. Unfortunately, I had to leave at 10pm to catch the bus back to Granny's. It was a really enjoyable night.

There was only one bad moment and that was when I exited Blanca's building and was accosted by a drunk man wanting money. I told him I didn't speak very good French in the hope that he would leave me alone, but he then asked for money in very good English! I have to say that I just strode off very  quickly and didn't look back. I heard him saying something but it was unintelligible - probably luckily!

Today, I slept in as it's Saturday and I had nothing in particular planned except for some domestics. However, I have made some bread. I  made some bread for the first time ever when I left Chantal's. She makes her own bread and it's scrumptious. My first loaves were the shape of rocks and just as solid. I had only had a few days at Granny's and she was being very polite and insisted on eating some of the bread. Well, she very nearly broke her teeth! Fortunately, she had an automatic bread slicer and I found the bread reasonably edible when toasted. I made a second batch (well, I had already bought the flour, the levure and the sesame and sunflower seeds)  a couple of weeks later and  somewhat immodestly, I will tell you that the bread was good. So good that you could actually eat it as bread.

My Belgian rustic loaf - this one was edible!

In the spirit of economising, I've made bread again this week - we'll see if it becomes a habit. 

I go to Brussels – again!

Last week I went to Brussels. No, not primarily for the chocolate or the museums or the mannequin pis, but to vote. Some of my Belgian acquaintances were interested to know that  although we must register, we don’t have to vote in NZ. (It is compulsory to vote in Belgium.) ‘Why would I want to do that if I had a choice not to?’  I expect that they are a little politically fatigued here as they are now over 500 days without a government. (They have agreed on the four regions but the major sticking point is the budget).

Grand Place

 I actually went to Brussels for the first time in the one-week holiday at Toussaint. It’s an hour to an hour and a half from here depending on whether you get the train that stops twice or the one that stops everywhere. I had read up on Brussels on the internet and I also had a copy of Lonely Planet.

 Arriving at the Central Railway Station, I followed the majority of people who were exiting the station. I was tempted to check the Lonely Planet to make sure I knew where I was, but because I had been warned about pickpockets and didn’t want to make myself an obvious target, I didn’t get out the book or the map. That was a shame because after 10 minutes of walking I hadn’t reached the Grand Place. Finally, I asked someone where it was and he pointed me in the opposite direction (I spoke to him in French but he answered me in perfect American accented English!).

When you know what you’re looking for , finding the Grand Place is easy – the town hall which is situated in Grand Place has a grand tower and you can see this tower from most places.Grand Place is surrounded by beautiful buildings – some gilt edged. Apart from the town hall, these buildings are occupied by shops (mostly chocolateries) and cafes and there’s also a museum on one side.  The Mannekin pis is close by and easy to find – you just follow all the other tourists! The statue itself is rather petite but directly opposite there was a larger replica in chocolate. Much as I love chocolate, there are some things I prefer not to eat!

Mannekin pis

Mannekin pis au chocolat

 Following this, I had a quick scout around the older part of the city and browsed the galleries which were full of expensive shops, some cafes and wonderful chocolateries: Galler, Neuhaus, Corne and especially the aptly named ‘Mary’. Naturally, I had to check out the Mary chocolate shop. I must point out that it had the most understated of the shop windows which were brimming with tempting chocolates.  I tried some of their fresh cream chocolates – delicious -  and brought a few home for Granny. The saleswoman told me that the King of Belgium buys his chocolates from Mary’s – obviously he has good taste!

Has to be the best choc shop in Brussels!

After all that chocolate eating, I wandered round a little, up and down Rue des Bouchers looking for Mannekin Pis’s little sister but, failing to find her, I went instead to the Musee des Beaux Arts. I must say I was never a huge fan of the 14-16^th Century Flemish painters but perhaps something of Belgium is rubbing off on me as I saw Brueghel’s  Apocalyptic  and Peasant paintings with fresh eyes. After a couple of hours there, I popped next door to the Margritte Museum for a lesson in surrealism.

Macarons et chocolat at Jean-Philippe Darcis

I tried to return to Brussels the following week but alas, there was a train strike and I was unable to get there. So, last Tuesday I set off to vote. It was a slow start as the first two trains didn’t go (one broke down but I’m not sure what happened to the second one).

 Finally, I arrived in Brussels and exited the train station full of confidence. 25 minutes later, I arrived at Rue Des Nerviens . I entered the building but couldn’t open the next door. It had a sign ‘tirez’ on it which I understood was French for ‘pull’ ( I was reminded for a moment of that Gary Larsen cartoon  card ‘School for the Mentally Gifted’ which shows a person attempting to push a door open with the sign ‘pull’). Thankfully,   a young woman arrived and told me I needed to press the no. 7 button for the NZ Embassy. A voice inquired as to why I was there and after I had replied satisfactorily, the door automatically opened. I would point out that there were no instructions as to pushing this button so I wonder how other people get on who try to visit the NZ Embassy?

The display at Neuhaus for St Nicolas (Dec 6)

 On the 7^th Floor, I was ushered in to a small room with some voting papers and a NZ official arrived to oversee the process. He told me he had been on a couple of immersion courses – six weeks each time but he didn’t often speak French and it was too easy to speak English in Brussels. I have to say that I was a little disappointed with the  reception at the Embassy, I was rather hoping for a cup of tea ( with real milk) and  a biccy – ok so the biccy was a bit optimistic - but no it was all very official and staid! Never mind, I had done my duty and voted!

 Soon I was back in a little street off the Grand Place sampling speculoos at Dandoy’s. ‘The original speculoos maker’. They are a spiced biscuit far superior to the factory-produced ones. As Granny had directed me to this delicious place, I took some speculoos home for her. There was another trip to Mary’s to taste a few more chocolates and then, this time, I found the Mannekin Pis’ sister along with a school group who were also taking lots of pictures.

Jenneke sister of Mannikin!

 I ended my trip with a visit to the Museum of Musical Instruments – really to see the panoramic view of Brussels from the top floor but actually, I found the instruments from all over the world, some more than a thousand years old, very interesting. You can plug in earphones at various points and hear the weird and wonderful instruments being played. Finally, it was time to return to Liege but there will be another trip to Brussels as I want to go to the Atomium  and the Comic Strip Museum.

A view of Brussels from outside the Museum of Musical Instruments

French Lessons

French Lessons continue and we are deep into pronoun territory. It is terribly important to know the correct order of the pronouns in a sentence. Madame D continues to be passionate about the teaching of French grammar and relentless in the correcting of our spoken French. However, we do not get much opportunity to do a lot of speaking as, on average, there are about 34 of us.The three hours usually go reasonably quickly and we do have a 'petite pause' for coffee about half-way.

We tend to sit in the same places now and it is somewhat frowned upon to change! My neighbours are usually Zena from Syria and Jessica from Ecuador. Zena tells me that what we see on tv about Syria is all lies and it is a peaceful country with happy people. She is married to a Syrian guy who is doing his PhD at the University of Liege. Jessica is learning Italian as well as French. She says Italian is easy to learn as her first language is Spanish and it is very similar.

On Wednesdays, Madame D has been playing French songs - we've had two so far - where we listened to the songs and tried to write down the words and then later translated them. It's a welcome change from French grammar exercises. The first song was rather fast  - a chap called Danyel Gerard singing 'D'accord, D'accord'.  I did think I recognised the chipmunks in the background but apparently it was just the backing sound in 1964 when it was first recorded. If you want to check it out you can see a rather cool Danyel avec cigarette singing on this link:http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x6q52n_danyel-gerard-d-accord-d-accord_music . This week we had a much slower song called 'Armstrong' as in Louis by Claude Nougaro. I really enjoyed it. It seemed to be a response to Armstrong's 'What a wonderful world':
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTVCjQ_zlBM&feature=related.

Incidentally, at my choral group we are learning a much more modern song in French by a Belgian singer STROMAE - it was a big hit in Europe last year 'Alors ...on danse' which may be more your cup of tea - very catchy even if you don't understand all the words! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHoT4N43jK8&ob=av2e

The mood in the class is often lightened  by the presence of one particular student. Marta is large of body and personality. She hails from Angola and tells us she speaks excellent Portuguese. Her spoken French seems reasonable, although, because she speaks often and loudly, Madame D often uses her as an example for correction.  Marta first came to the attention of the class when, on arriving an hour late, she entered the room and found that there were few seats left. Madame D was in the midst of a technical explanation but Marta was intent on sitting down. She found herself a table and chair which she dragged over to one side of the room, making  a racket as she went. She then sat herself down in front of the door. When Madame D pointed out to her that she was sitting in front of the only exit and entry point, Marta then dragged the table across to the other side of the room. Since that occasion, Marta has become attached to the desk (metaphorically speaking)  which is the only one where you can sit by yourself. However, the disadvantage of this desk is that it becomes the serving point for the coffee at 'la petite pause'. Marta is not impressed with the inability of her classmates to pour their coffee and milk directly into their cups. Marta also has a love of her GSM (what they call a cellphone here) although Madame is slowly training her to have her conversations outside the room. Marta is the student who asks the question 5 minutes after Madame D has already answered it! Despite her severity towards Marta at times, I think Madame D has a soft spot for her.  There is something engaging about her. The other day as we left class, I spoke in French to Florence, a woman from Togo. Marta exclaimed in perfect English: 'You're English. Speak English! I love English. I used to be able to speak it when I lived in Angola but I've forgotten how to now."http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHoT4N43jK8&ob=av2e

Moving Homes, Walking, Mushrooms, Quebec Cafe and Pavs revisited

Last week was a really big week as I moved to my new abode. Chantal and G-M had generously welcomed me into their home and shared their lives with me for six weeks and it was time to strike out on my own. To be honest, it did feel a bit weird to be leaving but it turned out, I wasn't going far. Chantal had sent out lots of emails to her friends to see if anyone wanted a boarder or  a flatmate. I was keen to stay in the area as I already knew my way around and would be close to Chantal and her family. I had also decided that although I am happy to live alone in NZ, I didn't want to live by myself in Belgium - not great for my French conversation for one thing. (Below is part of my room at Chantal's. Note the World Map with NZ in the corner!)

The solution was Madame L or Granny as she has asked me to call her. She is the mother-in-law of one of Chantal's friends. Granny is about my dad's age and very sprightly and independent. She speaks a little English but mostly we speak French which is good for me, if not a little frustrating for her at times. Granny has four grown up children about my age, all of whom I have met. Her house is only a 15 minute walk from Chantal's and 8 minutes from the bus stop so that's very handy. Unlike Chantal and G-M, Granny watches French news and TV - they watch the local Belgian news. She really admires the French French culture and their accent - especially the news readers. I am here on a month's trial but so far so good. As they say in French: Elle est tres gentille.

Last Sunday Chantal, Chantal's Mum, G-M, Fanny, Julien, Granny and I returned to Cafe Quebec as   a 'merci' for having had me to stay and also for Granny to get to know my host family. It was rather amusing earlier in the morning when Granny and I stepped out of our rooms to find that we were dressed the same - pink tops and jeans - we are obviously very in tune with each other. By the way, she's the more svelte one of the two in pink in the photo. (Unfortunately Julien has been missed out of the photo.)

While we were at the cafe, I recieved texts telling me that the All Blacks had won the rugby. Very exciting!! Considering how close it was, I doubt if I would have had any fingernails left  if I had been watching it. Much nicer to munch pancakes.

In the afternoon, Granny and I went for a walk in a forest about half a hour's drive away. The forest is owned by her son-in-law's father and is complete with miniature lake, miniature stone bridge and log cabin. It is used by hunters in the hunting season. In the winter, apparently they go skiing there! It was really beautiful but unfortunately when G said we were going for a walk in the forest, I didn't think to take my camera.

I have done a lot of walking recently. On Friday at school we had the 'Marche Parrainee' or sponsored walk. The whole school went on a 15km walk to raise money for sport's equipment. It was a lovely day out in the fresh air.

On Saturday, the apple-collecting group of Chantal's friends and I went mushroom picking. I remember doing this in farm paddocks when I was young. We collected huge mushrooms we called horse mushrooms. They had a really strong taste and were quite meaty in texture. On Saturday, we travelled to a part of the forest in The Ardennes. Unfortunately, we didn't gather a lot of mushrooms. Apparently, September is a better month for them, and it has been too dry this autumn. Still, we did manage to find some Chanterelle mushrooms and a bulbous variety known as' Pieds des moutons' - sheep's feet! Despite the lack of mushrooms, it was an enjoyable afternoon and in the evening we had a wonderful feast with the mushrooms used as a starter on toasted baguette. Delicious!

We had been asked to contribute a dessert so I decided to give the pavlova a second try. This time, I forsook Alison Holst and  instead consulted that other  NZ  icon - the Edmonds' cookbook (thanks Kate).  No longer a novice, I knew the French for the ingredients , so that was one less worry. However, I do think Edmonds should do a little proofreading of their book as the recipe said 'cook at 150' but in the notes at the beginning of the book, it suggested a pavlova should be cooked at a temperature between '110 and 140'! Anyway, to cut a long story short, the pav looked great until I turned the oven off and then it collapsed. As I didn't have much choice, I slathered it in cream and decorated it with kiwifruit and off to the gathering we went.

 As it turned out, it tasted better than it looked and the hostess even asked me for the recipe which I tried to  give her in correct French. I think I may have confused the measurements for the water and the cornflour - we had had a wine or two by then. If anyone has a fail-safe recipe for  a pavlova with a solid crust on the outside and good marshmallow on the inside that they are prepared to share, I'd love it!!

On being Average

I seem to find myself standing around a lot - especially on buses and what I've discovered  is that the Belgians seem to be  a much shorter group of people than New Zealanders. In New Zealand, if I was standing on a bus I would most likely find myself with my head in someone's armpit but here I don't have to crane my neck to talk to anyone. Instead of being short, in Belgium I have become average!

Unfortunately, while I have become taller in Belgium, I have also become wider. Instead of being a size M in a tshirt/top, I am now an L. I refuse to believe that 7 weeks of eating Belgian food and drinking Belgian beer and French wine has caused this - I'm sure they must be operating on a different system!!

My first haircut

Another first. There are so many things that you take for granted  like going to the hairdresser. I thought I had made an appointment for 10 am today (Saturday) at a local hairdresser recommended by Fanny. I arrived on time but could see that there were only two hairdressers – one who did the colouring and shampooing and the other who did the cutting, brushing and blow-waving. There were four people already waiting in line for their turn to be washed and coloured and another person was having their hair cut. It didn’t look good.  I was ushered to a seat and after about 20 minutes given a magazine.

 After about 50 minutes Marie-Ange  ushered me into another chair and we consulted about the colour. I had brought with me the colour intstructions from Rachel, my hairdresser in NZ but Marie-Ange wasn’t too sure about them. However, with the help of a colour chart we managed to come to an agreement on what was to happen. 

Two hours later my colour was done! The best part was the washing of the hair. The chair I was in was a massage one – what a wonderful idea – not something I was used to in NZ. Just as well though as the washing of the hair took about half an hour! I had about 5 or 6 different preparations put on – some of which needed time to work.

 Next it was into the cutting and styling chair.

 You want your hair cut? Carmelo said to me in French.

 Yes, I said. Just a little.

 No, he said, you want a change – something with more style!

 Ok, I said.

It was interesting to watch him work as he lifted several strands of hair and nonchalantly cut away. There was something artist-like in the way he worked. He even thought to ask if I would like a cup of coffee or tea. I had, as he pointed out, been there a long time. Yes, a cup of tea. Soon he was back with hot water and a selection of herbal teas for me to choose (I’ve given up on normal tea here as they only use UHT milk which tastes revolting). This revived my spirits somewhat. Then it was back to the cutting. Suddenly he stopped cutting and started drying my hair with an enormous round brush and a hair dryer. This took quite some time but then it was stop drying and start cutting again. Finally, he was finished. I have to admit it did look a lot better (less wild and frizzy).

Then came the moment of truth: time to pay. I zipped out my Belgian eftpos card but alas, they only took cash. Fortunately I had taken out some cash the day before from my NZ account to deposit into my Belgian account but the bank machine wasn,t working.  I left the hairdressers with a much lighter head and wallet.

Further Mmms – Chez le medecin et les medicaments

I hadn’t been feeling great for most of the past week and when Monday came I couldn’t face getting up and going to school. Some suggestions had been made about my mystery illness- some thought it was homesickness, others too much Peket, still others not enough!  Chantal kindly made an appointment with her doctor for me and off we trotted in the afternoon. Actually, I don’t mean that literally as I was feeling so miserable I could hardly put one hoof after the other so she took me in the car.

In Belgium, one goes to the doctor’s house it seems, or to the doctor’s basement anyway. We rang the doorbell; the door opened automatically and we walked into a small white waiting room. The doctor’s credentials were hung on the wall – he specialised in sports medicine – not a great lot of use to me I thought. After a few minutes, the doctor arrived and ushered me into another room. He said he didn’t speak much English and he was right. I said I was pretty sure I had the flu ( in French) and he seemed to understand my accent. He gave me a good going over and then pronounced or I think he did that I had sinusitis, laryngitis and bronchitis. I was quite impressed with this list. I asked him if I should go to school the next day, but no, he was giving me the week off as I would need 6 days to recover! I was a mite surprised as I hadn’t realised that I was that sick. He gave me medical certificate for school – you need one here for anything more than a day off sick.

 Later, Chantal asked me if I could go out or if I had to stay at home. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about but she pointed to a place on the form where it says ‘Sortie’ and it’s either autorisee or interdit. Mine was autorisee which means I could still go out and about on my sick days. Apparently people sometimes come to check if you are really sick and if you have ‘sortie interdit’ and you’re not at home when the checkers come – watch out! We collected a whole lot of medicine on the way home ($60 dollars worth –more expensive than the actual doctor’s visit as no subsidies applied to me!)

It’s now Thursday and I’ve been taking my drugs and I’m feeling a lot better. I had a cellphone call from Daniel at school and the 4^th grade class had been asking how I was and they yelled out ‘hello’ into the phone which was nice. I’ve learnt a lot about the dos and don’t of illness. Daniel says hot milk, honey and rum 4x a day. Chantal says Thyme herbal tea with thyme honey and absolutely no cold drinks or ice cream. I disappointed her by having several ice creams – they were so soothing on my throat. I was supposed to ask the doctor whether I should eat ice cream or not, but I forgot. Was thinking I might go back to school tomorrow but its cold and raining at the moment so if it continues it wouldn’t be such a great idea.

La Fete des Coteaux

Saturday was the ‘Fete des Coteaux’. Actually, I wasn’t feeling 100 per cent but I didn’t want to miss out on an evening that had been described as ‘magical’ and ‘not to be missed.’ Chantal, GM and I drove to town and then took a bus to the Coteaux area as parking was going to be a problem. The Coteaux area of Liege is a hillside interlaced with steep narrow cobbled streets and double-storied brick and stone houses. Some have small gardens. For others, the main access is by climbing up or down hundreds of steep stone steps.  Coteaux for those of you who don’t speak French means Knives and I assume it relates to the fact that there are a lot of zig zags and knife bends in the streets but maybe there is a more violent meaning? Will have to check that out.

 On the night of the Fete des Coteaux, volunteers line these streets and steps with thousands of candles which are lit at dusk. The gardens are open at night and people can wander  around – it’s very beautiful although not all the residents are happy about it. Chantal, GM and I wandered around some of these places in the daylight. By the time night arrived we were making our way down a steep trail lit by candles – it would have been magic had it not been for the seeming 1000s who were trying to make their way up the narrow trail.

Down in the town, there was plenty of entertainment including a group who played oil drums surprisingly well ( I have noticed that the Belgians are really into their drums). However, I was a little concerned as to the well- being of their eardrums – the rhythm was great but the sound really did hurt your ears. Feeling a bit peckish by this stage, we indulged at one of the myriad of street stalls – a sausage in a bread roll (their sausages are so much more tasty and spicy) and a compulsory peket – a local brew of gin. I had an apple and cinnamon flavoured  one which I managed to polish off quite easily. The night rolled on but by this stage, the streets were really thronging – in fact it was a wee bit scary as we were trying to go against the tide. Eventually we went down some side streets and after a final beer (another raspberry beer for me) we caught the bus back to the car and drove home.

Mons and Monkeys

The night before I went to Mons, Francoise – a friend of Marie’s- rang me and asked me if I’d like to meet her there. Naturally, I said ‘oui’ straightaway. Tuesday was a day off for schools and some businesses as it was ‘French Community’ Day i.e. the Flemish speaking part of Belgium was still working. I took a bus to the train station: Liege-Guillemins. It’s a striking building designed by a Spanish architect and only recently opened (September 2009). It cost a lot of money and, having seen the bleakness of Seraing, I thought that there was probably a lot they could have done there with the money. However, after actually having been in the building, I had to change my mind. It is absolutely beautiful – a work of art. Photos cannot do it justice. It is designed to look like a wave, or to me, a wing and it gives such a sense of freedom. If I lived in the polluted depths of Seraing, I would make a trip to Guillemins as often as possible to look at the sky and to feel liberated. Just my opinion, of course. You can find out more about Guillemins here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Li%C3%A8ge-Guillemins_railway_station

Francoise had advised me to buy a 10 ride ticket which takes you anywhere in Belgium for 73 euros. A veritable bargain as this works out at 14,60 euros for the return as opposed to 36.20 euros without the discount. So I was all set for my first train trip in Belgium. The nice lady at the info desk at Guillemins had kindly told me that Mons was the 6^th stop so what could go wrong. Unfortunately, I lost count of the stops and very nearly got off at the one before. Luckily, I used my head for once and mustered up some French to ask if this stop was Mons. No, it was the next one, so I carried on and arrived about two hours after having left Liege.

 In Mons, I was met by Francoise and a couple of her AFS students. She has two of them staying with her at the moment.  The AFS girls took off on their own and Francoise and I proceeded to walk around and get to know each other a bit better. Mons is a picturesque university town which is famous for ,among other things, it’s gold and black belfry or beffroi which oversees the town.

We headed off to the tourist office where Francoise collected up just about every pamphlet that was going for me – she didn’t want me to miss a thing. One of the pamphlets told about the Doudou festival  which is held in June and includes a dragon fight and some apparently rather raucous celebrations so maybe I’ll be able to squeeze in a visit before I leave Belgium.

After the Tourism Office, I was introduced to the Monkey – rather a small chap sitting outside the town hall. Apparently it is good luck to pat his head so, wanting to get my full measure, I did so. Afterwards, Francoise and I wandered around the cobblestoned streets looking at the buildings (some from the Middle Ages) and meandering through the many pretty neighbourhood gardens.  At one point, Francoise suddenly accosted a teenage boy tapping at his chest – both he and I were a bit taken aback, but it turned out that he was wearing a Canterbury NZ sweat shirt and had recently visited NZ and Francoise was so excited for me!

Eventually, we found our way to a café for lunch. Francoise had a local delicacy – a cold dish of eel in a white sauce while I played it safe (or so I thought) with steak and frites. I soon learned that ‘a point’ or medium means it is ready to walk off the plate – a little too bloody for my taste but the frites were particularly good. The Belgians tell me the secret is to cook the chips twice ( and use Belgian potatoes of course). We washed down the meal with a goblet of beer – now that was good!

 It was while I was sitting at lunch (called ‘diner’ in Belgium: dinner is called ‘souper’) glancing at the tourist pamphlets that I realised my mistake with the Monkey. Your wishes only come true if you pat his head with your left hand. I had used my right. Obviously, I needed to rectify the situation and Francoise very patiently accompanied me back to the monkey so that I could regain my good luck.

Francoise is a lovely person, with six grown up children, who just seems to love people. She is an interesting person herself (she had lots of tips for me on life in Belgium) and is  interested in life elsewhere which is probably why she hosts so many AFS students. I am very lucky to have made the connection. Thanks, Marie. I hope to return to  Mons again before I leave.

Another First: My French Course Begins

At last I have started a French course.  The classes are for three hours each time on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. On Wednesday there is no afternoon school but I miss the afternoon classes at Lucie Dejardin on Mondays. It’s another two-bus affair but thankfully not a lot of people seem to use the buses at lunchtime and Chantal and Guy-Michel had shown me where to go on Sunday.

I had time for a little lunch on Rue St Gilles – un petit sandwich (about half the size of the sandwich we get at school) a coffee, and I treated myself to a macaron – strawberry flavoured – yum! My first cafe dejeuner in Belgium.

Afterwards, I caught a second bus up the winding cobblestoned streets to annexe Waroux where the course is being held. As I was early, I introduced myself (in French of course!) to the others who were waiting and had a bit of a chat or as much as I could manage.

 Eventually the Prof,  Madame Demaret, arrived and we had to introduce ourselves and say why we were there. Madame corrected our French as we went around the class. She then wrote the list of countries on the board. There were 36 students in the room from 26 different countries. They included China, Japan, Togo, Mongolia, Italy, Russia, Morroco and Peru. It was like the United Nations.  Most of the students are women and married to Belgian men. They probably range in age from twenties to sixties and most have been here for several years. I think mostly they can speak okay but they need to practise their writing.

 Afterwards, we had a grammar and vocab test. While I know I didn’t score 100%, I think I did reasonably well. It wasn’t very hard but we shall see on Wednesday! Interestingly, I had befriended a woman from Togo, Florence, who had reasonably good spoken French ( i.e. better than mine) but she kept asking me for the answers during the written test and I had to tell her I couldn’t give them to her as it was a test. She kept asking though and trying to sneak a peek until Madame gave her a stern look.

 We finished early – at 4 o’clock -  as it was our first day and Madame wanted to mark our tests. I chatted to Lily  from China at the bus stop. She is here because she wants to do business in Belgium. She came here a year ago and this year has brought her 15 year old daughter over to learn French too.

I’m looking forward to the next class and finding out more about our united nations class ( and learning more French of course!).

The Ardennes, Pavlova, Police, Apples, Raclette and the Quebec Café

The above sums up the past week for me in Belgium. Now for a little more info. Last Sunday, we (Guy-Michel, Chantal, their friends Claire- who could be mistaken for Chantal’s sister – and her partner Dominique and I) drove about 30 minutes into the Ardennes to go for a walk and pick blackberries. The walk was a very pleasant 9kms on country lanes and muddy tracks over undulating  lush green hills. We were never far from a cow, a house or another walker. Unfortunately the search for blackberries was unsuccessful but we had a wonderful dinner and evening back at Chez Chantal et GM.

The following Friday night, Claire and Dominique returned for pizza and pavlova. No, I did not stupidly volunteer to make pavlova – we all know my abilities as  a cook. However, GM who is basically a gourmet chef had suggested he make pizza (with a  crispy base made from scratch) and Claire who is obviously somewhat fond of alliteration suggested I make the pavlova.  As I found out, making a pavlova is a mission in a foreign country! First, the ingredients had different names. Yes, an oeuf is an oeuf is an ouef but how about farine de mais, sucre de semoule (I had quite a conversation with the supermarket ladies about them)  and vinaigre du vin blanc . I didn’t manage to find any vanilla essence – we had extrait de just about everything except it. In the end, I bought something that came in a bottle but turned out to be granular – those little bits scraped from the vanilla pod  I think. My other difficulty was the cream. I definitely didn’t want any of that UHT stuff (horrendous when you are used to  the real thing – changes the taste completely!) Unfortunately, I hadn’t bought my recipe with me, so I went surfing on the internet and used one of Alison Holst’s.  You can’t believe how stressed I was thinking that the reputation of that Kiwi icon, the pavlova, was resting on my shoulders! Suffice to say it wasn’t the best pavlova in the world – the outside was not as hard and crunchy as it should have been and it had collapsed somewhat by the time we ate it – smothered in real cream (courtesy of Claire), kiwifruit and strawberries. Everyone was very kind about it and even had a second helping because they felt so sorry for me! Never mind, it was washed down with plenty of wine, coffee and tisane.

On Saturday morning, there was a knock at the door – it was the Police. No, I hadn’t done anything criminal. He was there to check that I really did reside at the address that I had given when I applied for my carte d’identite. He asked if I spoke French and when I replied ‘not much’ he spoke with GM and Chantal. I may have misunderstood what he said but  I’m pretty sure he said something like there were too many foreigners in Belgium and they were taking the jobs of the real Belgian people. After he left, they told me that he was very stupid and refused to tell me what he had said!

Saturday afternoon was my second encounter with the gathering of apples in Belgium. This time, however, we didn’t actually pick them.  GM, Chantal and I drove about 40 minutes west of Liege to Jean-Michel and Colette’s  house. About five minutes down the road from their house was a paddock with 4 huge apple trees or ‘pommiers’ as they are known in French. There were about 14 of us. Some climbed the trees or used a long stick with a prong to shake the branches while the rest of us held up large tarpaulins in order to catch the falling apples. The call ‘Attention – a la tete’ was often heard as the apples fell quickly and heavily like little green cannonballs. We gathered up the apples and put them in containers. They were to be taken away to a farm to be made into apple juice. The supply of apples was bountiful so we didn’t even finish the last tree. About 300 kilo I think it was.

We trotted back to JM and Colette’s place for apero (pre-dinner drinks and eats) and then a magnificent meal. Everyone had brought something to share and JM, heated up the raclette cooker – an oblong shaped piece of metal that was heated and then half of a huge round of cheese was put under it. When the cheese was bubbling and browning slightly, the cheese was skimmed off the top and put onto a plate with boiled potatoes and salad. Delicious! Yes, I did go back for seconds! Naturally there were also yummy desserts and copious wine and a highly alcoholic drop of something local to finish off. It was a fun night – I spoke lots of French, my tongue no doubt somewhat loosened by the quantity of alcohol and we arrived home in the early hours of the morning.

Sunday dawned and it was off to the Quebec Café in Liege for brunch. GM, Chantal, Julien, Fanny and I went there to celebrate Julien’s success in his first year exams. It is so popular that you need to book in advance. The café was decorated in all things Quebecois – hockey sticks and snow shoes and posters and decorations from Quebec. Wonderful – and the pancakes were scrumptious too! I did try to shout the family but they said I could pay next time. It’ll be a definite return date! 

The first week already!!

I can hardly believe that I've been here a week already. The time has flown. During the week,  as I described in my last entry, I started school in Ougree (still don't know how to do the french accents on the laptop, alt and numbers doesn't work!) at Lucie Dejardin. Pierre who is the husband of a friend of GM and Chantal sometimes takes me to school as it is only about 20 minutes in car but 2 buses and at least a hour in the bus. I have been catching the two buses back home. This was an experience in itself - knowing where to get off to change buses when you haven't been there before can prove interesting. The first bus is from Embourg to Liege and the second Liege to Ougree via Seraing. Embourg and Seraing are polar opposites. Embourg is leafy and green with lots of large houses while Seraing is rather like Coronation Street only greyer, with lots of rubbish and more depressing. It was the site of a huge steelworks but there is plenty of unemployment there now.

As for the school itself, I am settling in okay. This week I was in Daniel's classes which were interesting. Next week, I am going to look at some other classes as I think it's useful to see a variety of styles and methods. Daniel seems very keen on rugby and we have been checking the scores in class! In one class, the students' homework was to write down 10 questions for me and the next period was spent with them asking and me answering their questions.

Lunch at school is amazing. I ordered sight unseen a 'sandwich' and I got a shock when I saw what it was. The sandwich was a 50 cm baguette filled with ham, cheese and lettuce. It came with a drink, a salad and soup. This was all for the princely sum of 3 euros - about $5.50 - amazing. The sad thing was I couldn't even eat half of it - it was enormous. Luckily, a colleague was able to polish it off for me!

On Friday morning, Daniel had no classes and wasn't at school so I decided  to go into Liege. I had a bit of a walk around and went to FNAC a really good bookshop - they even have a few books in English. Also bought an umbrella at C&A which I promptly went on to leave somewhere - I'm hoping it is at school.

I caught the bus to school but sadly I was unable to get through the gates at first as they were all locked. It was during the first lunch period. Most of the teachers have a swipe card  so they can drive through. There was a gate with an intercom but nobody answered when I pushed the button. The student entrance was also locked. Finally I asked a boy who was waiting on the street. It turned out he attended the school and had a key so he let me in. Not sure how I would have got in otherwise. Maybe texted one of the teachers?

After school on Friday, Chantal took me to Rue Jonfosse to sign up for some French classes. I start on the 19th and am really looking forward to making (hopefully) quicker progress.

Yesterday(Saturday) was really hot again - about 29 degrees. Guy-Michel and I went apple picking at an organic orchard. The funny thing is that here I am from NZ where there are heaps of apples to pick but I had to come to Belgium to do it! There were quite a few other people there too. It was hot work but easy enough and one could always eat an apple if you felt hungry or thirsty. The orchard was near Brussels but in the Flemish speaking part. We picked about 60kilo of eating apples which wasn't bad for an hour or so's work. When we got back to Embourg, there was no-one else home so we had a beer - I tried a raspberry one - yum! It's probably too sweet for most males though. I had quite a good talk to Guy Michel in French. It is so much easier one on one. I am finding that I am remembering more words and learning some new ones. I am understanding more of what people are saying although if there is a group of people talking I still find that they talk too fast for me to understand everything they say. I think the Belgian French accent is quite different from the French French accent.

Last night Pierre and Carine came for a barbecue. We had a proper charcoal barbecue with sausages and meat and this was accompanied by des haricots verts and des pommes de terre. There was also plenty of red wine!!!! It is amazing how this loosens the tongue. P and C came for dinner last week. It was Carine who suggested that Chantal host me so I am very grateful. P and C are good friends of a former LIAwardee  (Guy) and in January are going to  live in Wellington for a year.

First Day at School

Actually, my first day at Athenee Royal Lucie Dejardin (sorry, I don't know how to do the accents on my laptop yet) was yesterday but there were no students there.  The buildings are reasonably modern and made of concrete blocks. There are over 500 students at the school.

The main teacher that I will be working with is called Daniel. He is very enthusiastic about teaching and his students, and I liked him straightaway. He has been teaching for many years, although in a former life he was a politician! He teaches academic and business English to senior students. He himself speaks excellent English. I was in two of his classes today.

This was the first full day for most students and it was interesting to see how he set up his classes. Unlike most of the other classrooms, he has decorated his walls with maps and posters. The other classrooms have bare grey concrete block walls. Daniel uses an interactive whiteboard (there are only a few in the school) and showed the students in his business English class the All Blacks doing the haka after introducing me. I hope they don't think I will be so fierce!!

 In the academic class, they were revising some question structures, so I suggested that they ask me some questions. The first question was 'Where were you when they had the earthquake in Christchurch?' Very impressive, eh? It turned out this boy is actually repeating the course even though he passed it last year because you must pass all of the classes to go to the next year. He is very capable but is not catered for in all of his classes, so he becomes bored and doesn't do anything.

By the way, the second question was 'How old are you?' As good luck would have it, the bell rang at this exact moment so I have left them in suspense until tomorrow!

Yesterday, I was introduced to most of the staff and they were very welcoming. I had lunch in the school canteen: le boulet et des frites -a meatball with gravy and apple sauce  and chips.  Apparently it is a traditional Liegeois dish. It was delicious. (Better watch out that I don't turn into a little meatball!) I also had salad and fruit and water. I could also have had soup. The teachers and students can get a hot meal or a sandwich every day except Wednesday because on Wednesday afternoon there is no school!

This brings me to the teaching load. The school day is from 8.15 - 4.10. Teachers teach 18-22 50 minute periods and when they are not teaching, they can be at home. Some days they might start in the afternoon or teach only in the morning. There is no duty slot and they do not have to take any extra- curricular activities. Food for thought indeed.

Some initial notes and impressions

I am just about to begin my fourth day here so I thought I'd jot down some first impressions and experiences. I am feeling quite exhausted - probably due to the long flight here, the heat (28 degrees is quite a contrast to 13 in Dunedin - not that I'm complaining) and trying to think and speak and listen to French all day. I am trying not to let the tiredness hold me back.

My host family are lovely:  very kind, patient and generous. They certainly do their best to make me feel that I belong. Chantal speaks excellent English: she studied it at university and has taught it in the Cameroon as well as spending time in English speaking countries. I think that she said she was an au pair in Scotland. Fanny, her daughter, went to England last year for 10 months as an au pair. She knew no English before she went but is very good now. She is an inspiration for me. At least I know some words and phrases. Of course, I am trying to speak as much French as I can but it is comforting for me to know that they can translate if necessary. Like Chantal, Guy-Michel makes me feel part of the family and is very patient. I have not seen much of their son, Julien but he also nice.

  They live in a very pretty area where the houses are detached and almost all have gardens and there are lots of trees.(This is unusual as most houses in the city appear to be  semi-detached. Most people, I think, live in apartments). It is probably like the Maori Hill of Liege. Guy-Michel and Chantal are very interested in the environment and fair trade. Chantal buys organic produce where possible. She says this is not typical of Belgian people.

Food - this probably warrants an entry all of its own but here are a few notes, For breakfast, we eat homemade bread and a variety of homemade jams. There is also apple and pear syrup which tastes more savoury than sweet and looks rather like molasses.  Chantal and Guy-Michel have coffee at breakfast but I have an infusion (herbal tea). I haven't found any normal tea yet. The coffee does taste great (made in a machine - magimix- the machine brand not the coffee). However, they don't use fresh milk; it's UHT so I don't think that I would like a cup of normal tea with milk anyway! Chantal also makes yoghurt in an elctronic yoghurt maker. It's delicious.

Lunch is usually bread, wonderful cheeses and some sort of sausage (more like salami than what we would think of as a sausage). This might be accompanied by tomatoes or some salad. Chantal says this is atypical of Belgians - most would have a cooked lunch. The lunch is finished off with a coffee and some delicious chocolate - I am currently eating my way through a lot of individually wrapped 'Galler' brand chocolates. Each one is filled with a different flavour - yum!

Dinner - called souper in Belgian French - I will leave this until another time. It's worthy of its own entry!

Je suis arrivee!

Je suis arrivee en Belgique! It was a long journey to say the least. I still can’t believe what little room one has on an airplane – even with my short legs! However, Lufthansa showed up Air NZ by bringing out the hot towels – lovely! It was a trip of contrasts: hours of sitting followed by kms of walking through the terminals to get to the next departure gate.

I had to go through customs and immigration checks at both HK and Frankfurt. I set off the beeper at Frankfurt and had to go through the humiliation of an overzealous German Security woman giving me a pat down. This included me having to take off my shoes which were searched separately while she patted my socked feet!!!! Really!!!! After 35 hours or so of travel by that stage, I was not amused.

It was a different story in Brussels. After the problems with my visa, the customs and immigration were closed and I was ushered through without even showing a passport.

Chantal et Guy-Michel were waiting for me with a huge sign with my name on it but I would have recognised them from their photos. No sign of AFS who I believed would also be meeting me.  They are really lovely and Chantal speaks excellent English which is a bonus.

We chatted on the hour's drive back to Liege - me in my broken French. I was surprised at how empty the motorway was but I suppose it was quite late at night - 11.30 or so. Chantal and Guy Michel's house is charming  and they are warm and welcoming.  I am really lucky.

After a tour of the house and a final chat, I was off to bed for some much needed sleep.

Hello from Hong Kong

Ni hao - not great French I know but when in Rome (or in this case HK) do as the locals do, so somebody said.

 The flight here was an experience. I'm sure the space in cattle class has got smaller since I last travelled long haul (about 21 years ago!). And what happened to the lovely jasmine hot towels they used to hand out at the beginning and end of  the journey? I also remember the welcome packs with socks and an eye mask. I'm sure this was standard in economy even on budget airlines. Anyway, I was grateful of the business class pack Anne gave me.

The flight itself was fairly uneventful - I watched a couple of episodes of Miranda and then did a little reading and a little snoozing. About 11 1/4 hrs in total. Another 11-12 hours to Frankfurt coming up.

Very hot in the air terminal in HK. Looks very grey outside - probably smog I think! Am here for a few hours so making use of the free wifi - much more generous than AKL where it's user pays.

Well, before I keep rambling on - it's the lack of sleep - I'll finish this. Next time, I should be coming to you from Belgium.

Au revoir mes amis et ma famille

Finally, the day of departure was here. It took me most of the morning to pack and  apart from a slight drama attaching the small day pack to the main pack, all went smoothly.

 I  had weighed my bag on the bathroom scales and then when I found it was underweight added a few more things. I think Dad was concerned  that we weren't going to make it to the  airport I was so nonchalant about it all, but we did with time to spare.

And how much did the big bag weigh? 20.8 kg! Ye of little faith.

 My good luck continued when I cashed in a lotto ticket and won $22. Thanks to some clever marketing by Paperplus I spent the money on two dvds (one on NZ and one on Dunedin/Otago).

Eventually, it was time to go and I said my fond farewells to Dad, Kate, Em and Grace who accompanied me to the airport.  In Auckland, Margaret and her daughter Rebekah popped out to while away an hour or two and add some humour to the evening.

Thanks to all for their texts, phone calls and farewell dinners and coffees. I will miss you all - once it really sinks in that this is not just for a couple of weeks.

 Au revoir mes amis. I look forward to seeing you in 2012.

It was the night before...

Well, the past week has sped by and it's the night before - no, not Christmas - but even more exciting - the day of departure for Belgium. Unbelievably, I still haven't packed properly. I did make a start yesterday but then realised how little was going to fit in the bag and decided it was too soon to be depressed.

I avoided packing this evening by going to my 9 year old niece's choral festival - much more enjoyable.  The festival began with a beautiful rendition of 'God Defend NZ' and it did occur to me that I wouldn't be hearing much of that for the next year.

The performances included a Tongan stick dance, a Samoan song,  and a multi-lingual song called 'Aotearoa'. The Beach Boys, Justin Bieber and the NZ group Avalanche City were also included for good measure. The singers themselves were a veritable United Nations.

The festival reminded me that despite the negative statistics which are promoted by the media, NZ's a great little country and I'll miss it.

Fortunately ... Unfortunately...

Fortunately, I now have a visa. Yay! Yay! Yay! My passport should arrive back in BB with the seal of approval tomorrow.

Unfortunately, I must now wait for another week to leave.

Fortunately, I was able to fill in time  usefully today  by helping out at a local secondary school.

Unfortunately, I must now try to squeeze as much as possible into my 20 kilo allowance.

Fortunately, friends have pointed out that there are shops in Belgium.

The journey interrupted

Still no news on the visa front. I really did think I would hear something positive today. What to do?

Things to do whilst awaiting a visa:

• walk around Broad Bay listening to bellbirds and tuis twittering, enjoying the sunshine, the beautiful view, and the peace and quiet whilst reminiscing what an idyllic place this was to grow up.
• check emails for news of visa
• do some French revision on aboutfrench.com
• eat leftover banana bon voyage cake- delicious thanks Pete!
• do the ODT cryptic crossword - still 4 words to solve
• check emails
• repack some boxes of stuff stored at Dad's 
• check emails

My Belgian Family

I have been emailing my Belgian Homestay Family since Wednesday. Chantal and Guy-Michel are only a little older than me and have three children in their twenties - two of whom are still at home.

They have homestayed students and teachers before and know the right things to do to make you feel welcome. They have emailed photos of themselves and their home and have told me something of their lives and interests. Like me, they enjoy reading, movies and walking. They also go cycling.

Liège is close to the Ardennes and Chantal has assured me that we will go walking there. I had best do some exercise while waiting for my visa!!

Movie-wise, Chantal and Guy-Michel have seen 'Bienvenue chez les Chtis' and 'Rien à déclarer' and preferred the former. Moi aussi, although both were amusing. Thank goodness for the subtitles though. I think I could understand about 15% of the French without them. Hopefully, this percentage will increase greatly after a year in Belgium.

Bonjour from...Broad Bay!

What a week it's been! A regular rollercoaster. I finished school on Friday 12 August thinking that I would be in Belgium the following week. True, I didn't have my passport or visa, but I had airline tickets and faith.

On Friday afternoon in response to my emails, I heard from Sharon at Orbit that they were expecting my visa to come through on Monday and it would then be Fed Ex (whatever that means) to Wellington and then couriered up to me in Auckland on the Wednesday ready for the flight to Brussels on the Thursday.

 I zipped around doing last minute things in the weekend and farewelling friends. There was a family farewell planned for the Sunday but those plans went awry due to the 50 year snowfall! The last minute trip to the dentist also had to be abandonned. (Hope that I don't have cause to regret that - all that chocolate etc). The airport was closed in Dunedin and this was indeed a sign of things to come.

 Monday came and went - no visa! I realised that this meant I wouldn't be leaving Dunedin on Wednesday. On the positive side, I had an email from Françoise, a Belgian friend Marie had made while on her LIA. She sounded warm and friendly so that lifted my spirits.

On Tuesday, came the official news that I was in limbo until my visa came through and nobody knew when that would be. After an initial "My goodness me - c'est incroyable!", I resolved to 'go with flow' as I didn't have many other options. Wednesday brought no news about the visa but excellent news about a homestay family. (As part of the LIA, I am supposed to be homestayed  for the first 4-6 weeks.) I have been emailing Chantal and her family ever since.

So now it's Sunday 22 August and here I am chez papa in Broad Bay. I have been inundated with emails and texts from friends and relations wanting to know if I've heard anything. Honestly, I have an idea of what it must be like to be pregnant and overdue, with everyone wanting to know if you've had the baby yet. ( I do appreciate your concern though :))

I will certainly be texting and emailing thick and fast when the visa comes through.

The country and now... the city!

 After quite a few months of wondering where in Belgium I would be based and quite a few discussions with previous LIAwardees (Thanks Marie, Guy, Louise and  Suzanne) about their experiences, I believe that I have struck the jackpot with Liège.

I learnt just a few weeks ago that I would be at Athénée Royal Lucie Dejardin in Ougrèe on the outskirts of the City of Liège. Once again, I was onto Google to see what I could find out. In a nutshell, it is a co-ed lower socio-economic state school of approximately 500 students.

Guy was based at this school when he was on his LIA 2009/10 and was very enthusiastic about the experience.

One of the links for the school sent me to youtube where a couple of teenage girls had a lot to say in French - most of which I was unable to understand. I obviously needed subtitles!

Facts about Belgium

• Capital: Brussels
• Area: 32,547 sq km (not very big. If my maths is correct, it would fit into NZ about 5 times)
• Population: 10.8 million (approximately) Brussels has the largest population: just under 2 million
• Language: French (40%) , Dutch (60%)  and German (1%)  are all spoken 
• Government:  Parliamentary democracy with constitutional monarchy
• Unit of Currency: Euro

The journey begins...

Actually the journey really began about a year ago when I won an Language Immersion  Award to go to a French speaking country for a year. That was pretty exciting. Towards the end of 2010, I learnt that the French-speaking country was Belgium so I immediately went googling to see what I could find out, apart from that it was famous for the necessities for life i.e. chocolate, waffles, frites and beer ( not so keen on the latter but who knows what a year will do!).