Part I. International City!
We took a tour of the European Parliament building. It was incredibly exciting to actually be in that building. I also felt like I could enjoy it to the fullest because none of my tax dollars were used to build it! It was also great, because the audio tour we took employed the use of about 5 different versions of “Ode to Joy”, the official song of the European Union, including a rap version.
Later, we went out for Lori’s 21st birthday. It was a total blast! We met people from all over the world, and we managed to find enough diverse people that throughout the night, Lori was sang to in 8 different languages. It was so awesome! It was also funny that people know enough about US law that they understand why such a birthday is a landmark for an American. A group of Irish Men wished her a happy birthday, but joked that they had been the bars since they were 14, and that there livers were screwed. It was a great night.
Part II. And you thought the USA was bureaucratic
While it is not my intention to use this blog as a space to gripe, I cannot accurately document my experience here without discussing all of the red tape one must get through to live here in Belgium. After spending significant valuable time and money on a visa, we have yet another hurdle to cross.
The Belgian government requires all aliens to register at the city hall within eight days of their arrival in Belgium (to be fair, citizens are also required to jump through similar hoops, and register at city hall anytime they move). Thursday, we set out to register for this. We hopped on the metro and took that a few stops, then we had to come above ground and figure out the tram system, a new thing for us.
The Tram ride was gorgeous. It was so fun to see a new area of Brussels, and tram is a great way to travel to see the sights above ground. We got off at the right stop, and walked around looking for the city hall. Eventually we found city hall, and went inside. We waited in line, only to discover that the man at the front did not speak English; due to the information we had received about this process, this came at quite a surprise.
Eventually, we used hand gestures to figure out that we could not register without an appointment. We also were told, that no one at city hall spoke English, and would we need to bring a translator to our appointment.
Apparently, approximately 18 days after we give them out address and information at our appointment, a police officer will visit our house to verify that we live there. After the officer visits, we can go back to city hall and finish the process. It approximately takes until about April for us to be processed and get our ID cards. We leave in May; figure that one out.
Part III. “BIG TAXI.” “Ah, tack-see. Oui, Oui, it is fine”
I have discovered the drawback of going to a place were almost everyone knows some English, is that people often think that they understand you when they don’t. Today we experience such drama with out hotel desk clerk. This drama can be best told in timeline form.
11:00 AM: The clerk dismisses me this morning when I ask him to order us a cab for later. He says that someone from out group has already ordered a cab. I explain to him that we needed a different cab, because we were going to different places. He claims to understand, and begins answering phones and ignoring me. I reluctantly leave to go register for classes.
12:00 PM: We finish registering for classes, and sit down to eat lunch before we activate our computer accounts.
1:10 PM: An angry waitress chases us out of the restaurant yelling in French. We use our pathetic French to try and figure out what is going on. A professor from VeCo comes to translate, and explains that the waitress does not think we paid. We tell her we paid. She leaves us alone.
1:45 PM: We return to the hotel to check and make sure our cab was ordered. We tell the clerk that him we need a big taxi to fit all of our luggage. This man, who we later nicknamed “the hobbit” because…well, he looked like a hobbit, acts like this is news to him. We tell him “ BIG TAXI, at 3:30, 15:30.” He nods and picks up the phone.
1:50 PM With some time to kill, we wander down the street to the arch, which is really a glorious structure. It is so beautiful, and we really enjoy looking at it, reading the inscriptions, and snapping pictures of the intricate carving.
2:45 PM: We return to the hotel to find an irate hobbit and a furious cab driver with a long greasy ponytail. The hobbit wondered why we came back at 2:45 when we ordered a cab for 2:30. The cab driver, who had been waiting for 15 minutes, demanded that we pay him for the time he was waiting. After a confusing argument with both, in broken English we pay the cab driver so he doesn’t call the police. He doesn’t give us change, and walks off with a .50 Euro tip for doing nothing. Jerk. The hobbit calls us another cab, this time for 3:30.
3:00 PM We go next door to a café and curse the hobbit. We mourn the unnecessary loss of our precious 14 Euros.
3:25 PM: Refusing to spend another second in the hobbit’s hotel, we roll our luggage out, and prepare for the cab to come.
3:35 PM: The cab comes. It is tiny. The cab driver takes one look at our luggage and says “you need a bigger taxi!” and drives away
3:36 PM: Judith announces that she is going inside to yell at the hobbit (for failing to call a large cab), even though he can’t understand her.
3:37 PM: Judith yells at the hobbit. We all feel a bit better. The hobbit calls us two taxis to accommodate our luggage.
3:38 PM: It starts to rain. We continue stand outside the hotel with all of our bags.
3:50 PM: The first cab comes. We load in luggage and Lori and Judith go ahead, while Celeste and I wait for the next cab.
3:51 PM: The next cab comes. Out steps the angry cab driver with the greasy ponytail. I begin to feel a bit like I am in a movie or an episode of Seinfeld.
3:59 PM: We arrive at our new house. I calm down, and reason that is was not the cab driver’s fault that the hobbit ordered him early. Despite the sour mood I am in, I tip him anyway.
4:02 PM: The other girls tell me how much their cab ride cost. The man with the greasy ponytail overcharged us. I curse myself for tipping that fiend.
4:03 PM: We enter our beautiful house and meet our wonderful landlord!
I will have to wait until another time to tell you about our wonderful house! It is late, and I need to be up early for a historic tour of Brussels.
Never Trust a Hobbit!
-Em
Knowing the other language definitely helps- but having someone who is brave enough to go and "have a talk" regardless of the language barrier is even greater! Hope you are all settled in well and stuff :]
ReplyDeleteToo bad you didn't have Samewise Gamgee running your hotel...
ReplyDeleteI must say, although that sounded horrible, it was really funny to read, haha.
ReplyDeleteHope your french is improving! My Italian is horrrrrrrible, but the more Italian I hear, the more I remember my French... which is useless... go figure.