Try to Top This One!

Everybody, everywhere has his own story of the coldest winter, the hottest chili, and the worst traffic jam. Everybody swears their story is the best and the most extreme. Lucie is more than willing to take you on, as far as worst traffic jam, thanks to a dusting of snow here on Tuesday.
Robb needed to take the train to Brussels to attend a concert, so Lucie left our house around 4:45 PM to drive the 3 miles to the Waterloo station. By this time about 4 inches of snow was on the ground, but it was nearly done. To say that she was headed out on the Voyage of Doom is to understate the situation.
Just how bad was the traffic? Her total elapsed driving time, covering all of those 6 miles to and from the station, was just under 6 (that's right - 6) hours! It was a horrific combination of: too many fools without a clue how to drive in even the best of conditions, but don't put even try to put them to the test in precipitation; the ridiculous right-of-way rules, where any and EVERY car coming out of any and EVERY street on the right has right-of-way over EVERY other car on the larger, main road; the complete lack of road courtesy seen all too often here; and, finally, I guess every person in the country happening to want to pass through Waterloo that evening.
The headline in the Brussels paper screamed, "3 Flakes of Snow; 510 Kilometers of Traffic Jam!" The first half might be a bit of a joke, but the second part is absolutely accurate, and that equates to over 300 miles of back-up! In a country the size of Maryland. You do the math.
Anyone care to try to top Lucie's "the worst traffic I ever saw" story? I didn't think so...

Paying the Price For a Remarkable Summer

And boy, are we paying that price! We had about 7 months of fantastic weather, from spring right through summer. How great was it? I got a tan lying in our back yard. And this is Belgium! You might recall the post from late June about how long the days were and how great the weather was.
Now, fast forward 6 months and taste reality. I believe it has rained in one form or another for about the past 15 or 20 days. We see the sun for all of a few minutes each day and, even if the skies were somehow to magically clear up (dare to dream), check out the winter sunrise and sunset times: sunrise: 8:35AM ; sunset: 4:35PM. And we've still got 2 weeks to go before reaching the shortest day of the year.
Considering I leave for work at 6:30 every morning and don't return to my car before about 4:15 every afternoon, I really am beginning to feel like a mole...or mushroom. I guess it's the price we have to pay in December for our June the summer before.

Saying Goodbye to a Member of the Family

This week we had to say goodbye to Abby, our beloved family cat of 17 years. We got her and her sister when they were crazy kittens, back in October 1992. Though we often groused about her all-too-frequent inability to keep most food down, constant begging at the dinner table each evening, and howling for no good reason (she was deaf for the final 4 or 5 years of her life), she was nonetheless a real member of the family, one whom we are all missing very much right now. Her elderly sister probably hasn't even noticed the absence, and the two younger cats are probably thinking, "Good riddance; more food and space on the blankets for us now," but those are the minority view. The humans, at least, are so sad that you're gone, Abby. We hope you are loving your new home in the Land of Catnip and Toy Mice.

My Latest Foreign Language: English!

It all started so innocently: about 2 months ago I began volunteering at St. John's International School, a private U.S.-style school here in Waterloo. The middle school was putting on The Canterbury Tales (about which I knew absolutely nothing) and I agreed to help out with accents, learning lines, and acting skills. The juvenile version of this rather racy (not to mention religiously prejudicial) set of stories included 6 separate tales, as well as an introduction and closing by the off-stage voice of author Geoffrey Chaucer.
The director got the brilliant idea about a month ago to have yours truly read these lines...in their original Middle English. I assumed this would be similar to Shakespearean English, which was on the scene about 200 years after Chaucer. Wrong! Middle English sounds like some gibberish garble of English, Dutch, and German, with a few other weird sounds thrown in just for fun. Thanks to the internet, I found a couple of readings which I learned to mimic perfectly.
Then, just 2 weeks ago, the director got another brainstorm: why not have Chaucer on stage and in full 14th century costume, delivering the opening and closing lines of the play? One day I'm a drama coach; the next, an actor on stage. The only actor on stage, I should add, older than 13.
Did I like it? No; I loved it! Every minute of working with these 35 marvelous kids was great. I'm not sure who got more out of the deal. Now I find I have nothing to do with my afternoons and weekends. Maybe I should learn from the director what play he plans on staging next year, so I can start learning my lines - maybe next time they will be in Farsi, or Japanese, or Swahili...

The Hairiest Town in Bavaria!

Here's something you definitely won't see at home: a decree from your town's mayor, ordering all participants in an upcoming cultural event to begin now, months before that event, to let your hair and beards start growing. No more shaving... or you're out of the show! Teutonic tyranny? Nope, just Oberammergau getting ready for next year's Passion Play.
This cute little southern Bavarian village has been staging the show about the final days of Christ for well over 350 years now. But only during one summer, once every 10 years. They take this community theater very, very seriously, to put it mildly. They make use of 1,100 amateur actors, drawn exclusively from town folk. Considering how small the village is, that has to amount to probably every third or fourth adult. And boy do they have rules! The most important is that only residents of O'gau for at least 20 years are allowed to take part - no exceptions. I met a guy who was born and raised in a tiny place only 4 km from O'gau and who had been in the town itself for the past 16 years. But he was politely told, "No way; we'll see you in 2020." The man playing Jesus in 2010 has been "promoted"; in 2000 he was just a disciple. The obvious question: where does he go from here? I guess you could say he has peaked!
Walk into any restaurant and look around; it's easy to tell the local males from the tourists: they're the ones who look like Grizzly Adams. They don't care; it's all for a higher purpose. Amen.

Tree Mystery Solved!

No more calls - we have a winner. Lucie asked a Belgian colleague about our mystery tree of doom (see the October 4th post) and learned that this tree, originally from Chile, is known as the Monkey or Monkey Puzzle Tree! The Latin name is Araucaria araucana, if you want to learn more on Wikiepedia. Evidently the name comes from a quote that "it would puzzle a monkey to climb that." Not only that; it would *hurt* a monkey, or any other living thing!

Shame on Us

I watched British TV last Sunday with great interest, as they celebrated Remembrance Day. It's always held with great pageantry on the Sunday closest to November 11th. The queen was there, along with all the ranking members of government, dozens of old war vets, bands, and, oh yes, thousands of ordinary citizens. At exactly 11 AM, as bells sounded across the entire nation, all activity ceased for a minute of silence, in honor of war dead. The tradition started after WW I, of course, but has carried on to this day almost unchanged. In Britain, as in Canada, there is an ongoing respect, admiration, and appreciation of those who have served and died. It's what these fallen soldiers most certainly deserve. I've been proud to wear a red poppy on my lapel for the past two weeks - more on the poppy in a later post.
How does America celebrate Veterans Day? For most, it's a great opportunity to hit the mall, take in a movie, or begin getting out the Christmas decorations. I'd bet that if you asked 100 Americans why this holiday is on November 11th, maybe 5 would know the correct answer. Sure, the President will lay down a wreath at Arlington and there might be a couple of hundred people there, probably more for the opportunity to see the President than honor the dead. Maybe it's because we have fought so many wars and have lost so many people. Maybe we're just jaded to it all. We build fancy memorials; other nations pay fitting tribute and truly remember and honor the sacrifice, once a year, on a very special day, and in a very special way.
I'm afraid we're far too busy for all of that. Shame on us.