Bossin' on my C scales

It's been awhile since I've posted, so I figured I'd write some stuff. After all, there's been more and more practical tasks surfacing: banks, insurance, orientation, blah bur blah bur blah. But aside from that garbage, there's time for the reading: Atop my priorities are Critique of Pure Reason, Phenomenology of Spirit, A Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology, and Being in Time

Things are surprisingly similar to the way it was three months ago, back in Pennsylvania. On the one hand, there is something missing right now, sure, in that my people are not here with me.  But yet, the feeling is still in tact, when I sink into my reading chair, fresh tea in hand: there's a certain feeling of comfort, fortune, and gratitude, right as I kick my feet up, like "aaahhh now we're cookin'" It's bizarre how similar Belgium is to the U.S.; I was so concerned about finding the foods I like/ need but it's all here, if you look hard enough. I mostly cook no more than five different dishes, but they all take the cake and are never the same via differences in available ingredients and method. (Because I do not measure, I just know, intuit, maybe) 

 Beyond the idyllic walks through the town center everyday, there are differences here that bring remarkable simplicity unfamiliar to life back home. The most drastic, maybe obvious instance is the fact that I have yet to and may not for the next year or two, driven or ridden in any car. It's been an obvious routine for so long: when you go anywhere, you hop in the car and drive there. But now, with such a small, bike-friendly city, paired with a remarkable bus and train system, depending on my destination, I either hop on my bike or just walk. Maybe grab a bus if necessary. Another surprise was a thing called ice bags: instead of ice trays, these ice bags are common here; you just fill this bag with with water and it then freezes into maybe 15 or 20 compartments which produces ice cubes.

I also have to comment on the hand blender. I mean, maybe this isn't so much a particularly European thing, but I mean I got this uncomplicated machine this for 5 Euros, and just like that, my smoothie game is right back on track.

Anyway, there's certainly no shortage of welcoming activities and events lately. At an international student dinner, I was dumbfounded to be sitting at a table of philosophy and theology scholars in a dining hall filled with hundreds of students from all over the world, maybe 10-20 from the U.S. (I've met three)  I'm particularly impressed with the student associations particular to each faculty. As a proud new member of NFK (the philosophy student association), I look forward to the activities in the upcoming week designed to help the scholars get to know each other as we head into this academic year including a friendship speed-date at the Fakbar (faculty-specific student-run bar). 

I'm getting quite comfortable here and have positive feelings about the days ahead.

Lakes, Forests, and Books

Two things I have been really itching to find and explore were
a. the Institute of Philosophy

and
b. my nature fix
The latter came in the form of Provinciedomein Kessel-Lo, a gigantic park with a large lake and smaller bodies nearby.  There is room for days to ride my bike around and find a secluded spot to read, and I did just that on a chilled sunny day until finding my way to a spot next to a pond where I plopped down under a tree with my new friend Edmund.   This tri was useful because I learned that the farmer's market is set-up in Kessel-Lo on Thursdays, in addition to the downtown setup on Fridays.


Botanical Gardens (reminded me of Greek tragedy)

 



The philosophy set-up is its own little Neverland, somewhat hidden (it was from me anyway, until now) from the rest of town, and it has it's own library: Four cozy floors of philosophy books; someone could stumble into this place and end up stuck for quite some time. There was the only English version of a very cool book (which I've been wanting to read) stealthily hidden behind two of Hegel's other works which happened to be both enormous and old (the actual copy, anyway).

Eating, Drinking, and Looking at Horses

Art comprised of rose pedals.

On Monday, September 7th, I was a bit confused to walk outside my apartment before 10 am to see people drinking beer in the street, then to turn left and see a horse.  Apparently that day was a festival in town called "Jaarmarkt", a business-based ordeal.  A main attraction in a huge parking lot around the corner from my place called Sint-Jacobsplein where tons of people gathered to slug Stella, eat burgers, and look at horses being examined for a grade for future auctioning, a physical check-up, if you will. 

Of course I had to explore what was going on throughout the rest of town, to find vendors and swarms of people just about everywhere. I was able to piece together a decent snack from free samples.






\

 

As it were, in preparing this square used for horse examinations a couple days earlier, the police towed my bike away. After I spent the day tracking it down as well as a new lock (they cut my old one), I went on an adventure to find this lookout point:

Maintenance

The trip back to Belgium was a minor disaster. A logistic mistake on my part due to lack of attention to detail (go figure) resulted in about a 100 euro hit to the budget, as I stranded myself in a German town called Bremin, with the only option available being to buy a train ticket to Antwerp, forfeiting the dirt-cheap bus tickets I bought for my way back. Anyway, I made my way back, and upon arrival at the Antwerp train station,

rather than head directly to Bruges as planned, I called my landlord to check in on the status of the move-in date. He informed me that I could move in at the present if I so chose, but there was a catch: I had to make it by 4 pm.

Considering the condition of my bank account as well as myself, I decided to end my trip a couple days early and "get it together" in Leuven; a risk because: the next train to Leuven left at 2:46, so with the trip duration being one hour, it would be a real test of my athleticism to make it from the train station to Ivo's place by 4. If I missed him, I'd have to pay for a hostel anyhow, just not in Bruge which would've been wasteful in my opinion.  Making it would require sprinting. With a suitcase. Through the town center. Like a moron. Amidst this struggle: I kept telling myself : "thirty to fifty euros saved, plus the comfort of your own space, you got this." Upon arrival, the vision of Ivo making a step into his wife's van to leave before seeing me still lingers; I made it by the skin of my teeth, totally exhausted, drenched, drenched, and likely quite smelly. I quickly dropped my things inside and hustled to the famers market to cop some much needed fresh produce before they closed. After getting some good deals on grapes, walnuts, almond flour, dried apricots, and broccoli; I made my back to my old stomping ground at the hostel and slipped behind the crowd of incoming visitors in line to check in, without the receptionist noticing (maybe) en route to the kitchen in order to recover my couscous and pasta. It made me smile to see them both still there, probably untouched, before I slipped out the back door. I'm a smooth criminal. As I returned to my apartment, I was REALLY hungry, but realized I had no pans to cook the stir fry I had in mind (as well as sheets and blanket for the mattress) so I decided to return to the vicinity of the hostel to use the wi-fi connection I had saved on my phone in order to email John, a post-doc theology student from Pittsburgh, to see if he could hook me up with some gear. Luckily, he got right back to me to tell me he could help, but he needed to leave in 30 minutes. So I scooted my desperate ass on over there and 41 minutes & 30 euros later I was walking back across town with as much as I could carry of the "bare essentials" stuffed into a garbage bag.  The next couple days consisted of head-stirring-sorting-out of certain pragmatic issues such as apartment internet connection, , town registration, insurance, bike parking, banking, storage-rental-closure, etc.

Copenhagen

 

 

I had high expectations preceding my visit to Copenhagen, and I was not let down one bit.  The surprise began when the bus drove into some peculiar storage garage, and soon I realized it was the huge ferry which transported the vehicles across the strip of ocean separating Germany and Copenhagen. The approach of the Danish shore brought a sense of delight that only grew the more I discovered of the fabled city.

 

One thing that caught my attention immediately after my arrival was the intimate connection with storywriter Hans Christian Anderson (with a main street named after him along with a prominent statue), engaging several mental forms from a strange night this past July.

                                                   Mermaid Statue

H.C. Anderson is more or less the "Danish Walt Disney" and the Tivoli Park situated just across from H.C. Anderson Blvd. and his statue gazing toward the park supposedly inspired Disney world.



 

Just as Amsterdam spoke to me with messages of resolution, Copenhagen seemed to impart one of positivity and acceptance, as if to be saying, "You should say 'yes' a little more."

 

 

I was sure to make the trek to the famous Christiana commune. In this village dubbed "free town," best known for its "pusherstreet" where weed and hash is semi-openly sold. In Christiana, the commune is self-governed and somehow manages to keep the police out. Freetown is heavily visited by tourists who are welcome as long as they follow the four posted rules:
1. No cameras.
2. No running
3. Have fun
4. Be happy

For obvious reasons, I have no pictures from my adventure through Christiana, but my general review is that as can be accepted, it's not well kept, although I can appreciate the level of freedom, creativity and general happiness permeating throughout the village. Supposedly, there used to be many issues with crime and gags, but the village has been gradually becoming much more peaceful.  The pictured gate reading "You are now entering Christiana" reads, on the other side, "You are now entering the EU." This got a rise out of me.


I was pleasantly surprised to discover my bus was actually leaving a solid nine hours later than I had thought, affording me unexpected time to rent a bike with my German roommates and visit the famous mermaid statue(allusion to the Anderson story) as well as the botanical gardens.