Germany, This Is Not

Everyone says that Belgium has three distinct personalities. There is the bureaucratic driven Brussels, the sophisticated, Flemish speaking Flanders, then the French speaking Wallonia. I live in Wallonia which is the poorest of the three regions. By all accounts life in this part of Belgium is slower and much more rural than the northern part of the country. The area is filled with historic hamlets and even the cities are small but most standards. Here you are more apt to encounter tractors than you are cars on some roads and I swear that cows outnumber people. French is the language of the region and it is quite possible to spend an entire day without meeting anyone who speaks English. It is also the poorest part of the country and this is evident when you drive on many of the roads. (Of course we spent close to three years living in Albania so it really is all relative). But do you know what? I really like it here.

For us, one of the best parts about being stationed in Europe is our ability to travel. When we lived in Albania we left the country whenever we could. There, travel outside of Albania's borders was a life line. It kept us sane, reminded us about everything Europe had to offer and provided a much needed respite from the day to day hassles. Since we've been in Belgium we've still been on the go but our travels are more apt to be inside of the country rather than out. We've been exploring every nook and cranny of our new home and loving it. But sometimes, it is still good to get farther away.

We spent last week in Germany which is so close, yet in many respects so far, from our home in Belgium. As we drove across the country to Berlin and back again I took in their perfectly paved Autobahn (or the portions that were less than perfect but actively being surfaced). Belgian roads are good in some parts of the country (Flanders) and a slow work in progress in others (Wallonia). Everything seemed so neat and orderly in the cities themselves and there was clearly a buzz that you just can't find in my little corner of the world. There was an efficiency about everything; streets and attractions were labeled, while not overly warm customer service was efficient instead of the typical pursing of the lips and "raspberrying" which is common in Belgium. And when we stood on a U-Bahn platform contemplating which direction we needed to go we were approached asking if we needed assistance. And most of all, everyone we met spoke English (not that this is an important criteria for us but it certainly does make things easier). Menus, signage and conversations were all bi-lingual (if not more). It was all really nice.

And now we are back in Belgium. Things are different here and I'm noticing it more than ever before. When fellow military members find out they are being stationed in Belgium they assume they are prepared because "they were in Germany before". This really isn't the case. It is hard to quantify the differences but things are slower, less organized and simply different here. Everything takes twice as long as it should. But the best advice I was given, and what I tell people who ask, is to accept it for what it is and enjoy it. I know we are. We really do like it here; if fact we just might love it. But then again it is all relative and we are just so glad that we aren't in Albania any more.

A Lady In Waiting

Lady in Waiting: A generic term for the female personal assistant for a queen, princess or other high ranking noblewoman. According to Wikipedia, a lady in waiting is often a noblewoman herself from a highly respected family who serves as a companion as well as a personal assistant to her mistress. References to ladies in waiting span countries around the globe and date from ancient to modern times.  Depending upon location duties may range from fanning one's mistress to keep her cool or bringing her food and drink to handing correspondence or simply providing companionship. She may work her way up in the ranks from maid to companion or might both help her mistress prepare for an event before attending it herself. Regardless of the situation, these women are essentially waiting, and perhaps anticipating, where or how their services will be required next. They are, waiting.........

I've been thinking about the term "lady in waiting" in more modern terms and how it applies to my own life. While I am neither of a royal background nor high ranking by any means I feel as though "lady in waiting" would be an apt title for my current position. After all, I feel as though many of my days are spent sitting around waiting to fulfill the needs of others. As a one car family my daily schedule revolves around morning and afternoon drop offs and pick ups from both school and work (whose times, of course, do not always coincide). Most days the times between drop off and pick up are filled with completely household chores or running errands during limited business hours that seem to be the norm for Belgian businesses. (Late openings, extended lunch hours, and early evening closings with businesses being completely shuttered on the weekends). Other days it simply doesn't make sense to go home between pick ups so I've taken to carrying a book in the car so I have something to pass the time as I bide my time before playing chauffeur again. Or, as I sit waiting.

But the longer we are in Belgium the more I realize that playing the waiting game is what seems to be expected for at least one adult member of the household (which in a military community tends to be women). Short notice requests from Sidney's Belgian school are the norm. A Tuesday notification for baked goods on Thursday or a Wednesday afternoon request (with a Thursday holiday thrown in) to bring in a special costume on Friday morning. If I wasn't sitting around "waiting" to be needed when on earth would I have time to fulfill these requests? Certainly not during the evening or on weekends!

But this waiting game extends into other aspects of our Belgian lives. As part of being officially registered in our Commune, we are to expect a visit from a local police officer who will verify that we do indeed live in our house. We've been in our house since February, have completed all of our required paperwork, but have yet to receive the promised visit (which is necessary before I can apply for a Belgian driver's license but that is a story for another day). According to the Federal police officer I spoke with, I am apparently expected to just wait for them to arrive at my door. It could happen at any time. But I've been expecting this visit for three months now without their making an appearance. But then again, I haven't been just sitting at home anticipating their arrival.

And then there is our house. When those oh too frequent maintenance problems arise, the expectation by both our property manager and the repairmen in question is that I am just sitting around waiting for them to arrive. If you gave me a window during which you would show up, I would be here. If you respond to our phone call and say you will be there on Monday I will be there all day on Monday if need be. But simply showing up unannounced doesn't work for me. Neither does calling when you are in front of the house or just a couple of minutes away. Without heat the last thing I want to be doing is hanging out in a cold house on the off chance the repairman will show up. But apparently I am supposed to be sitting at home waiting. And these expectations make me wonder how single people or dual income households manage when there isn't the luxury of having someone just waiting.

Again, as I type this I am once again sitting and waiting.......maybe this time the repairman and the police will arrive at the same time!

A License To Drive

Can you identify all of these
road signs?

As part of settling into Belgium we are required to apply for a Belgian drivers license. Prior to arriving here, we had been warned that not only were the Belgian roads horrible but their drivers were even worse. I guess it is all relative since coming from Albania I immediately found the roads to be very good and the drivers to be quite civilized. Even the big tractors driving down the highways seemed to be following the rules of the road. I did notice that there were a lot of signs along the roadsides--most of which I recognized but a few that I didn't. But, acclimating to a new country, I wasn't sure whether there were truly a lot more road signs than in other countries or just a lot more than in Albania. It turns out it was a little bit of both.

While nothing is as easy here as it should be the process was more cumbersome than difficult. First, we had to schedule an appointment to take the class where we would learn everything we needed to know cruise the Belgian roads. When filling out my application I was asked if I had European driving experience. This question caused me to pause because, well I do, but I don't. Or do I? When I explained that I had been driving in Albania for over two years (yes, Albania is a part of Europe), he looked at me in a horrified way and hissed that Albanian driving did not count as the requisite experience. (I later learned that if you had true European driving experience, you would only have to take the class and not the test in order to receive your Belgian license). It looked like I would be taking both all at the early hour of eight in the morning. I was then handed a thick driving manual and a handout with pictures of a hundred plus roadsigns. I was told to only skim the book but to memorize the signs because knowing all of the signs would be very important.

Bright and early on my appointed day I sat in a cold classroom with a handful of other recent arrivals listening. The instructor immediately launched into a Power Point presentation covering you guessed it, the road signs. (Actually, he prefaced his entire lecture with the warning that we must follow the rules of the road and not drive like Belgians.  Maybe Belgium is more like Albania than I want to admit?). For over two hours we went around the class identifying road signs and what we were to do when we encountered them. What I heard was essentially common sense but it made me realize just how rusty my western driving skills have gotten over the past couple of years. Repeatedly I found myself nodding in agreement with the instructor yet realizing that such rules just wouldn't work in Albania. Police in the road? In Belgium you stop your vehicle and obey their instructions. In Albania? You go blazing by them not making eye contact. Stopping for red lights, not turning left from the right lane, or stopping for an approaching train rather than trying to outrun it. These rules are common sense here but not where I am most recently coming from.

There are two Belgian (or actually European) rules that have been taking me the longest to grow accustomed to. First, there is the sign with a little red rimmed white triangle with an "x" in the middle. When we see these signs, whether we are on a main road or a country lane, we need to yield to the right, meaning that whatever traffic is approaching from the right actually has the right of way. Sometimes this makes sense but as I have already encountered during my drives through the area, yielding to the right is counter intuitive. However, we were sternly warned that if we get hit broadside by a car that we were supposed to yield for, we are without a doubt at fault. Secondly, on many sections of secondary roads, the traffic alternates on the more narrow sections with cars yielding to oncoming traffic. This alternating of lanes seems to be a built in speed control mechanism. Signs with red and black arrows indicate who has the priority and as I quickly learned, drivers-Belgians and foreigners alike- take this rule seriously. All drivers seem to be exceptionally civilized about obeying who has the right of way; disregarding the signs could result in a nasty head on collision.

Three hours later I took my 100 question exam where we were allowed to miss a total of ten questions. Half of the test was multiple choice questions and the other half was identifying those pesky road signs. We had to know the difference between a wild animal crossing sign and one for farm animals; the specific rules and lane restrictions for bicycles, motorcycles, and mopeds; when we can park totally on the verge, partially on the verge, and only on the street. The list of signs just goes on. And low and behold, this girl who spent the past two and a half years driving in Albania where anything and everything goes, aced the test. Yes I did. So I am now licensed to drive in Belgium with my SHAPE license. However, I must wait until the arrival of my Belgian protocol card (in six, seven, eight weeks maybe) before I can go to the Commune of Mons and apply for my Belgian drivers license. It sounds easy enough but I now know better than that.