An Image in Ypres

Our class is studying resistance movements in World War II, so on class trips we experience and cover a heavy subject matter.

In brief: The first class trip we took was to Ypres, Belgium, commonly pronounced Wipers by both the English and by our class. We visited two museum and two cemeteries. As much as I probably should have remembered the details of each museum and cemetery, I don't. My memory of the day is simply one image.

Langemark German Military Cemetery, Belgium.

By the time we arrived, I was tired of walking around museums and tired of looking at gravestones. It was a lot to grasp in one day. The sky was gray and misty, and this graveyard, unlike the previous British cemetery, Tyne Cot, was dark and gloomy. The stones were black, and I'm still picturing them as moldy. There were trees looming over the gravestones, and tourists walking in and out of the rows.

We stood right near the entrance, at the grave called the “Kameraden Grab”, the Comrades Grave. It was a small grave filled with twenty-five thousand, unidentified bodies.

Hitler also stood at the foot of that grave.

Let that one sink in.

What do our lives boil down to? A grave with 24,999 other bodies?

Tyne Cot British War Cemetery

In Memory

Switzerland, According to My Senses

The sights, the smells, the sounds. My senses were captured the moment we sat down on the train, winding us through the Swiss lands.

It was past midnight when we first set foot in Interlaken, Switzerland. The town was silent; the wind whistled past the old buildings. The streets lay cobbled beneath our feet. Our laughter echoed in the streets as we realized where we were and what was looming above our heads. The mountains. They encapsulated us in a valley, a bowl.

I'll skip the details of our night at Balmers. #Balmers, the hostile of mountaineers, cheapskate college kids, and of those who didn't even make it to college. We survived, and actually fairly easily at that.

Interlaken had a mountain in store for us. Harder Kulm, 1322 m up and 1322 m back down.

We hiked while listening to "The Climb" by the one and only, Miley Cyrus. While we hiked and sang, we saw wildflowers dotting the fields with purples of every hue and the blues and the yellows. The rocks jumped out of the ground and gave our feet something to dance around. The tree roots did the same.

We tasted the fruits of the Earth-blackberries. It brought back my memories of my cabin in Ellijay, GA where we would pick blackberries and eat them before they even made it into the pies and cobblers. It brought back memories of Papa's garden, where the blackberries were size XL. I ate the berries while the rest of the crew stared at me, scared of my impending death. I know my fruits, no worries, they were safe to eat. I dodged the ones with ants and mold and ate only those, sweet and fresh.

After resting in the fields on the way up the mountain, we made it. We shouted for joy when we looked out over the ledge. The Earth was below us, and the blue-turquoise waters glistened out in the distance.

So that was that. Hike one: complete- well after we made our descent.

We then took a train to Grindelwald, Switzerland. The town was homey and cute. It was another valley, but this time, the houses were few, and the elevations were even higher. Actually, they were a whole lot higher.

The houses were old, and they each had window boxes filled with brightly colored flowers. The houses were labeled by name, carved into the wood. Our house was 107 years old and looked over the valley and up the mountain. It was quaint, and there was an old German-speaking woman who lived downstairs. We tried to talk, but it was mostly smiles and hand motions, some made up German, and a wave goodbye.

Ok, now here come the hikes of my life. Cable car up, where the views got progressively more incredible. There were cows all over the place. (For Christy Hess we played the "My Cow" game all weekend-I should be winning that game by now, by the way.) Their bells rung out, and they mooed their little (large) hearts out. There was a kind of silence that overcame us, then the bells would chime, and the breeze would cast a cool across us as the sun warmed our backs, our hands, our hearts.

We screamed and leapt around when we got to the top. Hiking around was incredible, each view more and more beautiful with every turn. I ate Swiss chocolate and a crunchy peanut butter sandwich while looking over the mountains. The clouds crept across the mountains as we sat, and the sun peeked in and out.

There was also a marathon going on that day. It was 25 km in Interlaken, then 16 km up THE WHOLE ENTIRE MOUNTAIN. I'm telling you, those people were crazy, but my respect for them is high. Very very high. We watched many people cross the finish line as we hiked. There were marching bands and street vendors and a whole lot of runners. I love that kind of thing, so this was great!

I'm going to now briefly describe the descent back to Grindelwald. Steep. I have new muscles in my shins and glutes now. My favorite part was the stream of water we found though. It was glacier water, and it was clear, absolutely crystal clear. The water was irresistible. We had to dip our feet in. We cleaned our feet and enjoyed the icy cold it provided. 

After resisting gravity on the way down the mountain, we rested when we finally found a pizza place at the bottom of the mountain. It tasted divine. As we sat on the porch balcony of the restaurant, the views were also divine. What a great day. September 13.

Dying on the way up. Not a bad place to rest

Interlaken- views in the clouds

Right before the shoes came off, and we splashed in the clear glacier waters

Flower Boxes and Concentration: Wood

Swiss Flags

Interning

I wake up and dress myself in the most professional of outfits. I choose the blazer and business slacks and throw on some flats. My hair dries to perfection, and I get ready to leave. My lunchbox is in my hand, and I ensure that my name badge is ready to whip out as I walk in the office.

I begin to leave. But first, I take off the flats and stick on some tennis shoes. I begin to sweat as I leave the apartment, so my hair in a bun is the new look for the office. My blazer comes off, I grab my backpack, adorned with a Nalgene and lots of airport tags, and now I am ready for the trek.

My walk to Parliament each morning is about a 30 minute walk. It isn't too bad now, while the weather is decent and lots and lots of people are walking in to work as well. After my first morning of finding myself on the wrong streets, I haven't had any more problems.

Once I arrive at Parliament, I sit down on a bench outside and try to make myself look professional again-the tennis shoes have to go, and the blazer goes back on. I grab my name tag and walk in the spinny glass doors. I swipe my badge across the scanner, and I'm in. Up the escalator and to the left, down one hallway, and I am the first office on the left. Then, here I sit until I receive an email telling me of meetings to attend. Sometimes I am courageous enough to go knock on the door of my supervisor and offer my assistance- This has never led to any further tasks. Sometimes it is  Strasbourg week, and everyone is out of town.

This is a learning experience full of some crazy busy running around days from meeting to meeting (and other days not so much busy/no busy actually at all). My hand writes as quickly as it can in order for me to remember some of the information. Sometimes they have coffee at meetings. Ooh so exciting! It turns out if you dump enough milk in coffee, it tastes great and keeps you entertained. Also, I get to wear a headset. No, not to make phone calls and to look like a secretary, but rather to have every speaker's words translated just so I can have a clue. The words fly off of committee members' tongues, so I get the brief translated versions of each speech.

Well, the lights have turned off in my office, and there are no protests to watch outside of my window today. I guess it's time to grab those tennis shoes and kick it. I have to head to VeCo, Vesalius College, a prestigious institution for scholars like myself.

Bye Parliament. See you tomorrow. I'll be back with probably the same outfit.


Stay tuned for stories from my weekend in Switzerland. My glutes and shins are still feeling it from my mountainous descents.

Parisian Pics

En Paris.

Weekend Trips to Paris

It's kind of crazy that I can decide I want to go to Paris then just hop on a bus. That's exactly what happened though. Our first trip outside of Belgium was a huge success. "Our" includes Hannah, John, Nathan, and I.

We took a four hour bus ride and appeared in Paris. I have been learning about Paris, about French culture, about France for years. I have watched the movies and seen the pictures. The Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame, Sacre Couer. Well, it's all real.

When we arrived in Paris, it was around 11:00 pm, so we were all a little tired. Some people stood up to get off the bus when all of a sudden they turned back around and sat down. Then, some terrifying police with large guns and a huge dog got on the bus. Nothing like a 'welcome to Paris.' It was a drug dog, and what do ya know, he found some drugs. Not mine. Drug Bust in Paris.

After we were so warmly welcomed to Paris, we quickly realized Paris is nothing like Brussels. It is alive and everything is open well past midnight. People are strolling, doing their thing at every hour.

The next day we did the 'touristy' things. We went to the Notre Dame, where we not only climbed 422 stairs to the top, but we also ate some nutella crepes. The crepes were delicious, and the views from the top of the Notre Dame were incredible. The gargoyles were looking especially excellent that day as well.

We went to the Sacre Couer and the Eiffel Tower. We went to the Lock Bridge and l'Arch de Triumph. It was just really really great. We took rides on the metro and only ended up on the wrong one once, which we were quickly told was just a non-functioning metro. We saw some performers on the metro-they were so incredibly bizarre. I didn't know where to look because there was no way I was paying them to rip off their velcro pants and climb around on the poles and dance with their bus tickets. The only problem was that I could not contain my laughter.

The next day we went to Versailles and saw the beautiful gardens and the palace. The sun was shining, and the grass was so luscious and green that we had to lay down and relax for a long time.

We needed to lay down for a picnic under the Eiffel Tower for 4 incredibly beautiful hours that night as well. There may have been baguettes and cheese and swing dancing involved as well.

We finished our trip with the Louvre and D'Orsay-both of which were incredible. Then we hopped back on our bus and arrived back to the sleeping town of Brussels where people only come in for the work week.

-Au Revoir-

Also, have no fear, there are pictures to come. I just don't believe my Parliamentary Colleagues would want me downloading pictures of Paris on their computers.