Part IV: whenst things get VERY interesting

Brussels:
We arrived in Brussels Midi around 10:30 pm.  We went downstairs to get to the underground where we would catch a metro to the neighborhood of the family we were to stay with.  Well, we found the metros, but there was nary a map in sight telling us of the whereabouts of our destination.  We spent an hour scanning the station.  Finally we found someone who could kind of speak English, but he had NO idea where the station was that we needed to get to.  He also informed us that the station was going to close in an hour.  This heightened our sense of panic, along with our knowledge that Brussels really is not a safe, friendly city.  We finally decided that it may be worth it at this point to splurge on a taxi.  Back upstairs we went, dragging all our luggage behind us.  Before we got very far, 3 sketch looking men stopped us and asked if we needed at taxi.  We said yes and they got ready to take us out to their taxis.  But we weren't too sure about this whole thing yet.  B asked if they knew where the address was, and they said, "Oh yes!"  She asked if they were sure they really knew where it was, and they said, "We have GPS."  We huddled in for a whispered group conference about whether we should trust them or not, but the "taxi drivers" quickly cemented our decision.  "Don't worry!" one called to us, "We are official taxi!"  Yeah right...  We turned away, and right at that moment, 2 uniformed police men walked by.  We ran pell-mell after them to ask if they knew how to get to our destination.  Well, we found best friends in those Brussels policemen.  Not only did they give us their metro map, they also escorted us downstairs, helped us buy our tickets, and lifted our suitcases through the barriers onto the platform for us.  We were also reassured that we would make it there before the metros shut down for the night.

Well, our adventure did not end there as one might hope.  We got to the correct tube station, and did indeed find the correct exit, but COULD NOT find the street!  The house was only supposed to be a 5 minute walk from the metro, but we spent 20 min walking back and forth along the darkened streets of Brussels.  We put our heads together and figured on paying another visit to our friends the Brussels policemen.  We went to the police station just down the street, 4 young American adults crowding into the tiny reception room, with enough luggage to last a semester.  The policemen, again, improved relations between the U.S. and Belgium (even if only between me and my friends) and pointed us in the correct direction.

So now we were at least on the right street!  But the house number was no where to be found.  We paced up and down the street, until I looked up at a window and saw someone staring at us eerily from behind a curtain.  To make it creepier, he quickly slipped away when he noticed me looking at him.  Duly alarmed, I alerted my companions and we hastened to the brightly lit street corner to come up with our Plan D. 

J and I decided to sit on the curb and watch the bags while S and B went back to the police station to try to figure out where the heck this house was.  We sat, and sat, and sat... Finally after about 40 minutes, S and B come frolicking back up the hill towards us.  With a little help from Facebook, they were able to contact a guy back on our college campus and he gave us the CORRECT address.

Finally, 2 and a half hours after our ETA, we arrived tired, hungry and relieved on the doorstep of the K's house.  Mrs. K was so gracious and had waited up for us, keeping a pot of stew warm on the stove for the hungry travelers.  Bellies warm and full, we curled into bed, thankful it wasn't a park bench.

The next day we went to the Grand Place and bought Belgian waffles, chocolate, and visited the peeing kid statue.

The Grand Place: (the date in the corner is off...)

 More Grand Place:

 The disappointingly small peeing kid statue:

 Ordering waffles!:

 S and B and their waffle:

 Get in mah bellay!!!:

 Best Most interesting for last:

Part III- a long time later...

Since so much has happened since my last post, I will have to just give a brief recap of everything.

London:
The third day, J and I had agreed to meet my uncle near Big Ben for lunch.  My uncle had given us a cell phone to use to call him when we were ready, but not only did it have a passcode I couldn't figure, but also I happened to forget to pick it up off the table to bring it with me...

J and I left bright and early in order to bring our luggage through the tube system of London to St. Pancreas station, where we would be departing for Brussels later that evening.  Thus began our death march through hell.  First of all, in my inexperience, I had neglected to bring a handy-dandy wheely suitcase, instead, my large luggage was one where you (aka your boyfriend) carries manually.  And to make matters worse, this hand luggage weighs the better part of 40 lbs.  So we walk 1.5 miles from my aunt and uncle's house to the train station, dragging over 150 lbs of luggage, up hills, down hills.  We finally arrived at the station, dripping sweat and gingerly flexing sore shoulders.  I think I've mentally blacked out that horrific experience of dragging our suit cases through London's tube stations, but my memory clears after finding a cart at Pancreas to carry our luggage the last 500 yds to the luggage storage place.  We put our gosh-darned cases in their (not quite) eternal resting place and waltzed out, feeling considerably more buoyant without their added weight.

We went to see Big Ben, the London Eye (from afar... I hate heights, so we didn't go on).

Then began our search for my uncle.  He had told us the name of his office building and we thought we could recognize it upon seeing it, but to no avail.  Finally after much angst in a rotten-fish smelling London phone booth, which turned out to not be in service after all, I resolved to ask to borrow some random stranger's phone.  A very very VERY nice lady let us borrow her phone and we were finally able to meet my uncle.  He took us to the Garden Cafe where we had fish and chips and pear cider.

From thence we sauntered to Buckingham palace.  Unfortunately I don't have pictures of that since my camera died pretty much right before we got there.  After viewing the palace from afar (we didn't feel like paying or waiting in line to get in) we walked, and walked, and walked, and walked some more to get to a metro station.  My knees had stiffened up and were too swollen to walk any more for some reason, so I was starting to feel like a 2 yr old in desperate need of a nap.

Fast forward a bit, and we were in the British National library viewing the Magna Carta, the Guttenberg Bible, and various other important documents which shaped history.  From there, we walked to the train station, met up with S and B, the other girls we would be traveling with, and got on our Eurostar train to Brussels.

Part II

Tuesday: On the second day, J and I went to visit the Tower of London and the British Museum.  We started our day with scones, tea, eggs, bacon, Greek yogurt, blueberries, strawberries and bacon.  Soon after, we boarded the Chiltern railway and wound our way through the tube system of London.  We arrived at the Tower, only expecting to stay a maximum of two hrs, but there proved to be so much to see and everything was so fascinating that we ended up staying 4. 

The outer walls of the historic Tower.

The royal ravens

 All the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men...

We had a picnic lunch in the grassy moat area while we watched the raven's hopping about on the lawn.  The ravens are about twice as big as American crows and they are so beautiful.

After that, we went to the museum and looked at Egyptian and Roman artifacts.  We wanted to see the Rosetta stone but everything was about to close, so we didn't get a chance.  

Part I- The Grand Tour

Sunday: 6:35 I took off from Dulles International airport on my overnight flight to London Heathrow!  J and I made our way successfully through security and found our terminal and gate, where we met up with the other girls we are traveling with.  I went to the Starbucks to get a sandwich for dinner before I boarded and when I was coming back I saw a British flight attendant standing there holding my carry-on and talking to J.  I rushed over to find out what was the matter.  Apparently just by walking by she noticed that my bag was indeed an inch too long.  I knew that before I got to the airport, but I was hoping no one would notice.  But at least she checked it for free for me.  That's one thing I've noticed about the Brits, they have SUCH nice attitudes and wonderful customer service.  We boarded the plane and as soon as we took off, J and I immediately tried to go to sleep.  We did pretty well and managed to get about 4 hrs of zzz's.  We were really surprised by everyone's shock at learning that we actually slept on the flight though.

Monday: At 6:40 am we landed in Heathrow and went through Immigration and got our first stamps in our passports.  We had to wait an hr in line for that though, but it was interesting to people watch.  After we picked up our luggage (it took us a while to find it until we realized that the handy-dandy screen on the wall showed us where it was) we found my aunt who lives in London and went back to her house with her where we cleaned up and whisked away to Windsor Castle.

My aunt didn't go in with us since she has seen Windsor so many times so we agreed to meet her in a little shop across the street.  When we got over there, she had apparently decided that I needed this beautiful black cashmere sweater, so she bought me one.  It was a nice surprise.  After that, we drove about an hr to Blenheim castle, birthplace and home of Winston Churchill.  While we were there, the sun peaked through the British clouds and everything was just awash in golden light.

And then, after Blenheim, my aunt took us to a charming little restaurant called Puddingface where we had traditional English potpies and my first drink that I was actually able to buy myself, some delicious hard cider on tap.

Yeah... please excuse me. ^^  I wasn't quite socially acceptable after an exhausting day and an overnight flight.
Stay tuned for Part II!
Cheers!

Meek and Humble of Heart

My priest introduced me to the Litany of Humility last Sunday in a homily.  I am just awestruck how one prayer can be so beautiful and painful at the same time.  About one line in, you start feeling distinctly uncomfortable.  Three lines in, and you are now certainly squirming in your chair.  But despite the definite lack of comfort, it really is an enlightening and of course, humbling prayer.  Humility is the basis of all the other virtues.  Once we achieve true humility, all the other virtues will follow.

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, Jesus.

From the desire of being loved...
From the desire of being extolled ...
From the desire of being honored ...
From the desire of being praised ...
From the desire of being preferred to others...
From the desire of being consulted ...
From the desire of being approved ...
From the fear of being humiliated ...
From the fear of being despised...
From the fear of suffering rebukes ...
From the fear of being calumniated ...
From the fear of being forgotten ...
From the fear of being ridiculed ...
From the fear of being wronged ...
From the fear of being suspected ...

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I ...
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease ...
That others may be chosen and I set aside ...
That others may be praised and I unnoticed ...
That others may be preferred to me in everything...
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should…

My Carriage Awaits...

Hello there lovelies.  Sorry for the long silence.  In less than a week, I will be flying across the Atlantic, on a journey through a magical land, embarking on a semester abroad.  But don't worry, I am planning on posting pics and snippets of my life in the land of castles.  In the mean time, you have got to listen to this.  It is... breathtaking.

My Summer With the Felons

Pretty much everyone at the place I work has a felon or two tucked under her belt.  To these girls, I am the epitome of "good girl."  I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't do drugs, and my boyfriend has never been to jail.  But, despite our polar differences, we have all become close and formed friendships across the social lines. 

Even though these women have been labeled by the elite of society as hardened criminals, I have a lot to learn from them.  Tough as nails, they perpetually fight against the odds.  Life has dealt her cards, and they put on their poker faces and play the hand they got.

I've realized how unusually blessed I am.  I was raised in a happy, loving, intact family.  I've been gifted a chance at a superb education.  All my basic needs and more are provided for me.  But it isn't always the case.  P dropped out of highschool her junior year because she was bored in the public school system.  J was kicked out of her house by her dad when she was 16.  A spent her teenage years feeding her drug addiction. 

However, despite their rough lives and the sentences each of them received from a judge, each of them is full of inspiration and hope which I can only hope to achieve.  J wants to join the peace corps after she serves her time on house arrest.  She dreams of going to Africa and opening free clinics for those in even more unfortunate circumstances than her.  A is buoyantly joyful because for the first time in years, she is addiction free and enjoying life as she ought.  She is so proud that she has been clean for 11 months.  Now, instead of getting high, stoned, and whatnot, she enjoys going on hikes with her boyfriend and going to museums, believe it or not.  P has overcome her alcoholism for the sake of her unborn baby; the baby her mom urged her to abort.  She is now 3 months pregnant and enthusiastically picking out names.  

Becoming so close to these women has really taught me that despite their rough edges, they still have hopes and dreams, they are still searching to love and be loved, and they will always stand up for those close to them, just like me.  I've learned to look beyond the social strata this summer, my summer with the felons.