Units of Energy, Tanks, Cow Pants, Bruxelles, and Polygamy

 Hi everyone. I'm really excited for this post. The past week has been amazing.

     

The first thing I feel the need to talk about is how nutritional facts are presented over here. It made me so happy to see the labeling showed above on a cheese container. Since seeing it, I have checked other sources, and have found that all nutritional facts in the EU are displayed this way. They have the courtesy to actually say that the units measure the amount of energy in the substance, they aren't lazy with the stupid Cal vs cal, and actually call them kcal, and to top it all off they decide to also show the amount of energy in kJ. Seeing all this information in SI is making me so happy!

  

    Now I fell like I have to include a picture of the tank I saw at a party. It was actually an American tank, because I took it outside of an museum of American military stuff. I thought this town was a strange place to have a museum of American military, but whatever. And for all of you wondering, no, I didn't fall of the tank, but that was because no one would let me climb on it. I probably would have managed to tumble if given the opportunity. 

  

     Now, at that same party is where I came into contact with the mullets and the man with the cow pants. I mean look at that outfit. I am sorry the picture is so blurry, but they would't hold still for me. They were too busy head banging. They were actually the second group to play. They were by far the better of the two. The first group was disappointing me a little to start out with, but after their attempt at Sweet Home Alabama, I was wanting to just leave. But then these guys took the stage and, well honestly, I couldn't care less how good their performance was. I'm glad it turned out well. Their Message in a Bottle was great! With outfits like that, and actually good performers, how can you go wrong?

     After this party, my week was pretty boring until I Thursday. It was then that we got together with all of the Rotary exchange students in Belgium (there are like 200 of us; in my district alone, there are over 80) and had a grand time. We got together and looked at the royal palace, the parliament building, and this big square. It was sweet. 

Random trio playing on the street. Made me happy.

Ceiling of the congress meeting room.

Awesome seal

  

Picture of the square thing. (all the people in blazers with pins are students)

     It was a pretty sweet day, and it got even better because it was when I joined my polygamous colt. Yeah, the Kanzinians are pretty sweet. I don't know home else to describe it.

Idaho, New Mexico, and Washington

 After that Thursday, we met with the Rotary students again, but this time just my district. We had our orientation weekend, and were subjected to a lot of rules and papers and what not. It was a fun time when we were able to talk with the other exchange students, but the rules were so boring. So, to pass the time, we went through the rules and found some of the most ridiculous things written. Here are some examples:

I guess dancing is a place here. I have yet to find it. It is probably pretty dangerous.

Pirates are never to be invited. That is so unfortunate.

While these statements are true, in writing they look ridiculous. 

So I guess any other age isn't a problem.

There was no caption with this picture and throughout the whole presentation they didn't
give any explanation as to why there was a picture of a dead person. We found it very strange.

      Those were the best examples we could find. Awesome right? I feel a little bad making fun of their bad translating, but the feeling goes away every time my attempts at speaking are laughed at. :-/ Ah well.

     Speaking of my speaking being laughed at, in the middle of writing this entry the house phone rang. I went to pick it up because I was alone and it might be my host family calling me. The person on the line launched into a string of really fast French (ok, normal speed French. It is still fast compared to what I can handle.) and in my most polite voice I told this person that I was an exchange student and that I spoke very little French. They said something that sounded like, "It shows," in English, and then hung up. I will say I was a little put off. It was a major factor that lead to me putting these pictures on the. 

     On that same line of thinking, I really want my French to get better. I know it is dumb to be getting so impatient at this point, but I am. I want to speak. I want to understand. I want to communicate. I know, it will come, but I want it now. Not being able to speak, to say something intelligent, is the most frustrating thing. All of this time with the exchange students made me painfully aware how little French I am understanding, and how much I miss talking to people. Ah well. I guess it is part of the process. I just wish it wasn't. 

    Like always, I am missing you all, thinking of you all, and wish you were all here with me. Have a great time starting school/work/whatever else you do when the summer is getting finished. 

           With love,

                  ~Weston Halberstadt

    

Another week

  I know this is coming early, and I know it is short, but that is because I am going to be gone for a Rotary thing this whole weekend and won't have time to write anything new. But I will just give you a little summery of what my week was like, and I will go into more detail on Monday.

     This week I went to a concert where the musicians had mullets and wore athletic cups on the outside of cow pants.
     This week I met another person from the US who lives in my town. We went to go eat friets and in the process were afraid of being mugged or shot.
     This week I discovered my host family had a Wii, but no working batteries for the Wiimotes. (SP, sorry).
     We had a meeting of all of the exchange students in Belgium. There are a lot of us.
     This week I joined a polygamous tribe of exchange students who call themselves the Kanzanianians. (I am the only one from Kansas).
     A fellow exchange student decided that learning names was to hard and that we should all be named    Zombieland style. I am now fondly known as Kansas.

I will have more stories and more detail on the ones above in a few days. I miss you all and hope everything is great back home in the US of A.

~Weston Halberstadt

Oops...

I realized that I forgot pictures. Here you go:

Hamoir, the city where I am living.

The outside of my house here. 

The street in front of my house (I love the hills).

The river in front of my house.

A random donkey I found on a walk. I couldn't resist taking a picture. 

The house of my host Grandmother

The dog of a friend of my host grandmother. Reminded me of penguin. This puppy was so awesome!

Guess who?

 

And now for something that I wasn't expecting to see in the least bit. 

Isn't that awesome!

After a week

     Hey everyone. So it has officially been a week since I arrived. My French is improving, I am getting along quite will with my host family, and I've not died yet. I thought these were some important status updates and that I should start out with them.

     This last week has been very full of all sorts of stuff. I don't even know what to start with. I guess I will start with my small list of things that I have found to be different here. Throughout the week I wrote down thing that shocked me a bit between here and there. A few you might already be aware of, but I hope you enjoy this list:

• We eat lost of bread! Their bread is great! I really like this change. We have bread for every lunch, and most dinners. If I were a bigger breakfast eater I would probably have bread then also, but I just stick with a bowl of frosted flakes. 
• There are shops for bread everywhere. I love when I am walking around and I walk past one. The smell is wonderful and I am usually glad that I don't carry much money on me, or I would be broke quite quickly.
• The sidewalks are for parking, the roads are for parking, and curbs are generally ignored. It gave me great amusement at the cheese party to watch a car full of what I assumed were drunk Belgians trying to put their car up on the curb. In the next few days, I discovered that that specific practice was not only the product of the intoxicated. The sidewalk and the street generally mesh together into one unit, and because the curbs are so small, or non existent, this task is quite easy. 
• All the cars are stick shift. I don't know why, but I would guess it is because of the increase in gas mileage you get compared to an automatic. 
• Speed limits are generally, ignored. Yes, I consider this a change because it is everyone who ignores these limits. And it isn't just by a few MPH like at home. On a road that it 70 the average is probably 110. Now I know there is a conversion factor, but still that is quite a difference. 
• Everyone drinks at every meal and every get together. I'm talking everyone. My host sister (remember she is 7) just downed a glass of wine before dinner last night. It was a little humerus - and a bit scary.
• There seems to be less police, or less of a visible presence of police. I have seen probably only 2 police cars, and only heard one siren.
• Everything is about one and a half to two times as expensive here as in the states. This is taking into account the conversion factor of Euros to Dollars. It makes me a bit sad.
• They don't believe in tap watter. Everything they drink comes out of some sort of container. It makes me a bit sad every time I finish a bottle of water and they pitch the bottle.
• Pandora doesn't function outside of the United States. I didn't know this, and it made me sad.
• Friets. Love them.
• Metric system. Love it.
• 24 hour clocks. 22:00 instead of 10:00. Love it.
• Chocolate. Love it. 

       So those are just some of the things I have noticed. The changes are not anything I can't handle, so that is good. I would like to take a bit of time now to talk about Tuesday. In my mind, it was the best day I have had here yet. For starters, it was when I finally felt finished with the jet lag. It was also the first time I got to taste Belgium chocolate, and the first time I ate friets.

     But beyond food, Tuesday was great because it gave me confidence in this whole French thing. One of my host brother's friends that I hadn't met yet came over to meet me. We hung out in my room and talked for quite a long while. This was really exciting for me because he knew about 4 words in English, and he was incredibly shy. I had to lead a conversation, in French, with this guy I didn't know at all. I would say it was a success, and it gave me a whole lot of confidence in my French. That isn't to say I was able to successfully translate everything without error. I might have relied on Google translator from time to time, but it still was acknowledgement that I was on the right track and that I was improving. It wasn't the only indication I have had, but it was my first and it felt good.  

     Another thing that made Tuesday great is that I got to meet with the fencing coach. Now, unfortunately he doesn't teach sabre, only epee. But, I guess that is better than only foil. It was really exciting for me. Just walking into the building and hearing the distinct sound of machines going off after touches were scored put a huge smile on my face. I didn't actually get to fence, and don't get to till September, but watching the summer camp he was teaching made me happy. Also I discovered that he trains two of the epee fencer on the Belgian national team, so I am pretty excited. 

     Now I have one more thing I want to talk about. I just discovered the other night that I have a crazy host grandmother. It made me laugh when my host family called her crazy in front of here. I guess she accepts it. This lady was very amusing. First of all, she tried to make me have to waddle out of her house (we ate there last night). For lunch she made me eat twice as much as I normally would have, and then served me two crepes for dessert. Then for a snack at about 15:00 I got  ice cream and frozen strawberries. Then for dinner we had a bar-b-q and I got stuffed again. Oh my mouth was so happy, but my stomach was a little upset. She is obsessed with English and had a little phrase that she loved very much. "It's all right momma!" could always be heard ringing around her house. It was very amusing. She was loud, playful, and just plain adorable. I don't know how to describe it specifically, but all of you with crazy grandmother know what I am talking about. (Mugget and Grandma Dixie, if you are reading this you don't fall under the category of "crazy"...  well not completely. :-P ).

     Well, I could write more, but I am getting hungry and I feel I should interact and hear some French before my brain forgets all that I have learned. I hope everything is going well back in the good ol' US of A. I do miss you all.

with love,

~Weston Halberstadt

     

I promised more.

     So, I shall add more. Hi everyone. I really don't know what to talk about. I had more that I wanted to talk about yesterday, but today was twice as exciting, and I have much I want to cover about today. So I guess I will just talk about what comes into my mind first and stop after a few events.

     Ok, so the first observation i want to share is driving over here. I will tell you, Europeans, or at least all the ones I have met and seen, are crazy drivers. I kid you not, the first time I drove with my host mother, the first image that popped into my head was from 101 dalmatians, at the part where Cruella Da'Ville is drivind around in her car chasing the dogs. Her hair is whipped behind her and her eyes are crazy. My host mother is no where that mean, but her driving had a bit of a crazy lady feel. It made me laugh so much. But later in the day when I drove with an 18 year old friend of my host brother's, I was shown the real craziness. It wasn't that much worse, but flying down this one lane road in the middle of pastures while it is raining and the windshield is all fogged up is something that surprised me a bit.

     Speaking of crazy, that is how I think all of my host brothers friends are. Today, after they went go-carting, myself watched and tried to memorize names, we went to the Quick, Belgian fast food. It was pretty good, I will say. Then after eating, one of the group with a little better English said to me, "Watch what not to do." As he is saying this, one of his friends is stripping in the parking-lot outside the Quick. When he is significantly clad in only his boxers, he and another guy with a camera run across the road to the median. He danced around a little bit, but then stood right next to the road, waving he hands and directing the cars to drive right next to him. It was at this time that I observed the large puddle in-front of the place where he had strategically placed himself. A few of the cars obliged him with a good soaking. It was very funny. Made me laugh a lot.

     Something that is really different here, that I like a lot is beez (sorry, spelling). When greeting, instead of a wave, or a high five, or a hug if you are really close, everyone gets a little kiss on the cheek. Now, I guess it isn't on the cheek, but you make a kissing noise in the other persons ear while touching cheeks. I like it because it seems very personal, and yet it is something everyone does when they meet. Guys, girls, everyone. I will say that guys whom don't know each other very well are more hesitant, but I have gotten them from a few of the guys in the group I have been hanging out with most. It is something that I like and am considering keeping up when I return ;-)

     Something a little sadder that I want to end on is based on that last statement. I feel it is a bit sad that two days into the trip I am thinking about the end, and though these thoughts don't come often, they do occur every once in a while. I will say it is worse after I write to someone at home or blog or... So I think that I am going to hold off blogging to just once every week. It is temping to blog every day before bed, but last night after shutting off the computer I have this overwhelming fear. It wasn't home-sickness I don't think. No, it was just an overwhelming fear of failure mixed with, "What the hell are you doing here Weston!" thoughts. I was afraid I wouldn't learn the language mainly, and that every day would be as much of a struggle as the first. Today was better, and that is good, but I think switching to English for an extended period of time made this fear very true and cutting. And then after that feeling washed over, my mind wondered to people that I would talk the over with, and then the homesickness hit a bit. Not as bad as the fear, and something I could manage, but it still was there. So I will try to go the week without much contact back home, and then next weekend I'll go over all the stuff that happened this week. And talking with Andria it seemed like this trend reversed as the trip went on. That blogging became difficult and hard to do. So I propose that this becomes a long term trend. I'll write every week, and ya'll keep me true to this. Ok? If I post before then, I expect angry emails. If I am late, I expect angry texts.

     Thank you all for caring enough to read this. It makes me feel loved to see the number of followers growing each day.  Not that I don't feel loved. It is just proof that the feeling is not misplaced. I hope you all are having fun in KC, and I do miss you all. So until next week, I love you all and I wish you all the best.

~Weston Halberstadt

First Impressions

Well, I have finally arrived in Belgium! It is exciting. XD So there is a lot to tell, but i have only gotten 7 or so hours of sleep in the past two and a half days, so i am going to just tell about one experience that made me laugh, and will get into more detail later.

Tonight, we went to a cheese party, but we arrived after all the cheese was gone. We were, however, there in time for the alcohol. Also, we were there in time to meet up with my host brother's friends. Now, my host brother is doing a Rotary Exchange in Phoenix, so he wasn't there, but they were all apparently waiting with anticipation to meet me. They had already had a few drinks by the time we had arrived, and that trend didn't stop. I knew drinking was big here, but it still sort of shocked me a bit. I didn't really believe the stories I had heard about Rotary kids returning from Belgium alcoholics until this time. I even managed to get beer spilled on me. One of the girls, in an attempt to get me to chug the hard orange juice in front of me, decided to get her arms involved. Swish went her arm and kersplunk went her beer, right in my lap. It made me laugh.

I found out a bit later that they didn't know i knew the orange juice had alcohol in it. This made me laugh even more. They offered me a beer, and knowing that I wouldn't be able to finish it because I've not exactly acquired the taste for it, i politely refused. Then one of the girls went off and returned with a glass of orange juice. "Por toi" she said. I took it and tasted it and immediately tasted the alcohol. But it wasn't bad and I was with my host family, so it was legal for me to drink it, by Rotary and Belgium law, so I took it and sipped at it. A bit later, after the beer was spilled on me, the girl who offered the drink leaned over and informed me, rather surreptitiously, that the OJ had alcohol in it. I don't know how to describe it, but the way she said it i could tell she thought i didn't know. It might seem like a bit of a deceitful thing to do, but i found it amusing. I don't know. Maybe i should be offended, but i'm not. Well, i will have more stories for you later, but now it is time for a few pics, then sleepy time.

A few bad pictures of my house (it is small, but I love it!):

Add caption

My host sister (she is adorable):

A random, really fat dog found at the cheese party: 

And me, just leaving the party: 

Sorry about the poor quality of the pictures. I'll try to do better next time.

I miss you all and hope you are all having a great time.

~Weston Halberstadt

Sadness

I reach the sadder days of all my life.
I leave my friends, some have been known for years.
Pain stabs me through. I feel the ice hot knife.
And yet through pain, I can not shed my tears.

And every day I make some final time
to say what needs be said. But I won't say.
My heart accepts not. My brain must remind
that time's short. Parts of me think I'm to stay.

It's easy to believe this falsehood's true,
far easier than saying my good-byes.
Illusions will hurt more after I've flew.
Strong, sad hugs keep far the bitter-sweet lies.

Each loss hits shattering, painfully hard.
Of my soul you have each taken a shard.

~Weston Halberstadt

Departure

I got my itinerary from BokoffKapplan today. I leave in 5 days, 22 hrs. and 39 min.

My Host Family

     Well, if this blog is going to be about my time in Belgium, we can't have the only post be about a trip I took in the United States. So I am going to take this time to tell you about the little I know about my first host family.

     This is a picture of my host family, and some other people I don't know. My host mother pointed out a few of the people in the picture, but not everyone who's face appears is accounted for. Starting from the right, the bald man in the withe shirt is going to be my first host father, Eric. To his right, our left, is someone that is a mystery person. The further to his right, our left is my host mother, the shorter woman with the blond hair. The little girl with blond curls in front of her is going to be my 7 year old host sister. Those were all the people mentioned, though I think the guy with long brown hair in the middle is my host mother's son. I refrain from saying host brother because he has already left and is now in Phoenix. I don't quite understand why he is there. I am unsure if he is on an exchange himself, or there for another reason. I just know he exists and that I will probably never meet him. 

     So besides what they look like, I do know a little bit about my parents. My host mother owns a children's store. It sells clothes for small children, strollers, stuff of that nature. I am unsure what my host father does, but he works in the same building as my host mother, but not in the same store - i think. I do know he is a football coach (European, not American, though he does look the type). 

     It might seem like there is a lot of uncertainty about this information, and that is because I don't speak very good French. My host mother (the one I've been communicating with mainly) speaks a little English, but thinks I should start working on my French right away. So a lot of my information is lost through the filter of translation, which makes me a bit sad.

      That is all I really know. I guess I can add that my host mother says I will be able to fence while I am there. I don't know what weapon, and I don't know what level, but I will be able to fence. That makes me happy. 

     The time for me to leave is getting close, and though I don't even have my visa yet, I am feeling the approaching emptiness that will be felt when I no longer living here, seeing you all every day. I am getting increasingly excited, but at the same time increasingly apprehensive. You all make it hard to leave. 

~Weston Halberstadt