And, we're back...

Upon looking back through the last two years(!) of blog posts, I was surprised to see that neither Troy nor I seem to have mentioned the joys of getting our titres de sejour (residency permits). You hadn't noticed this absence? Not surprising. But here the mere mention of the phrase "visit to the commune" is enough to set any non-EU-citizen's eyes rolling and teeth on edge. While no residency-registering-process is great, our commune's is widely-agreed to be the worst in town. Such a subject might seem like an odd choice to mark our re-entry into the blogging world after a few weeks away. However, it is January and that means it is time for our annual state-mandated pilgrimage to the Maison Communale de Bruxelles to complete our paperwork and extend our right to stay. Step 1 in this process was this very morning in fact, and thus the topic is fresh on my mind. Step 1? Oh yes my friends. Don't let this seemingly innocent-sounding task fool you. Going to the commune is like battling through Dante's 9 circles of hell -- miles of lines, grumbling, shoving, ugly words, weeping and gnashing of teeth. Sounds like a story, no?

Our journey begins outside the maison communale (town hall) in the freezing pre-dawn blackness where you jockey for position in your first line of the day: the queue awaiting entry to the building, which officially opens at 7:30 am. Your placement in this first line is critical, so you have to arrive before 7 am or you're toast! This morning we were fortunate enough to be close to the front of the line and able to wait in the foyer, a boon on such a cold morning (-4℃). At 7:30, a security guard descends to let groups of about 10 at a time race up to the Third Floor - the Bureau of Strangers. (Well, ok, I suppose the more accurate translation is 'Bureau of Foreigners', but the French is 'Bureau des Étrangers', so you see where I get my preferred translation). Today, we were in the first group to ascend.

Having learned a trick or two from our previous FIVE visits, we were able to do some clever last second maneuvering coming off the turn out of the elevator, and thus made it to the front of the second line. This is the line in which you wait until 8:10 am, when the "Welcome" windows of the Bureau of Strangers open for the day. Once at the Welcome Window, you explain your reasons for visiting and are given a number, at which point you can relax somewhat. If you're lucky, you might even find a seat and sit down while you wait for the "Business" windows to open. Our guardian angel was in fine form this morning because, though some upstart Eastern European fellows cut in line and dove for Welcome Window #1, we scooted up to WW#2 and for the first time ever scored the coveted numbers 001 and 002!

At about 8:30 am, our numbers appeared on the board and up we went to wait at the window while a poor civil servant (who we have agreed has among the WORST jobs ever) worked on our permits. With each renewal they completely redo everything, including the ID cards and their hideous photographs. Several pages, signatures, and official-stamps later, we completed our business at about 9:15 am.

If you've been keeping track, today's visit took about 2.5 hours, which is a land speed record for our visits to the Maison Communale. But wait, aren't there more steps, you ask? Ah yes. Clever of you to notice. Now we have to await the visit from the police to verify that we still live together (they verify this anew every year) after which they send off an official report to the Commune. Then a few weeks later we get to do a REPEAT of this morning's routine, made only slightly less horrible because we go to the 2nd Floor - Bureau of Locals to pick up our new IDs. All this effort is good for one year...whereupon we do it all again. Ah bureaucracy, or bureaucrazy as I've now termed it. There's a reason why we need all the chocolate and beer...

Winter Wonderland

Here's the scene from our terrace yesterday:



That's right: SNOW! In the nearly two years that we have lived in Belgium, this is the first time that we have seen it snow and accumulate. We've had dustings before, but this is the first snow of substance that we've personally witnessed. It has frosted the city, making it quite lovely, and the lack of street clearance has even caused the maniacal drivers to slow down...somewhat. A few days ago we got a laugh out of the BBC referring to 5 cm as "heavy snow", so you can imagine a few inches is enough to cause quite a stir!

The wintry white landscape has added that missing piece to make it really feel like Christmas here. The city has strung up beautiful twinkly lights all over town, Christmas songs are our constant background music chez nous these days, and we have a large, beautiful Rose de Noël (poinsettia) gracing the coffee table. I have also been trying my hand at baking some old favorites that somehow have escaped my repertoire up 'til now. My first ever banana bread turned out delectably:



With the season comes the inevitable mad crush of activities, and in recent weeks our social calendar has been atwirl with festivities. There have been neighborhood coffees, trips to the Neuhaus chocolate outlet, and lunches with the girls. Our lovely Norwegian neighbor Trude hosted a fun gathering where we got to try such traditional Scandinavian favorites as Gløgg (mulled wine served with almonds and raisins), köttbullar (meatballs), and pepparkakor (ginger cookies). We spent the next evening at the home of my Czech friend and fellow-chorister Marta, who brought out her uncle's fiery schnapps-esque homemade hooch to cap off the evening's fun. To all this add a series of feverish rehearsals for my choir's upcoming performance of Bach's Mass in B Minor to the mix and you've got the makings for a frenetic few weeks indeed.

Even so, beyond all this merrymaking, we've still found time to do one of our other favorite winter activities: we've been eating our way through various Christmas markets, here in Brussels and further afield. Two weeks ago, we grabbed our friends Maisie and Josh and their little guy Isaac and all bundled into the car to visit one of the most famous Christmas Markets in Europe: Köln (Cologne), Germany and it's seven Weihnachtsmärkts!



This was before the cold spell set in, so the weather was warm enough for the water in the sky to stay in its liquid form and not turn to snow. I must say that there is something odd about a Christmas Market in the rain, but we didn't let it dampen our spirits.



Köln is about a 2 hour drive from Brussels. Isaac was a little bundle of cuteness and very well behaved on his first roadtrip to another country.



And the eating commences. First course: latkes (potato pancakes) with applesauce. Hot fried deliciousness!



After a second course of brätwurst with mustard, we moved from the food market into one of the markets that featured crafts and gifts.



All that shopping and walking made us hungry (wink wink), so we moved onto our third plates: potato dumplings and smoked sausage with sauerkraut, sour cream, and herbs. Heavenly. For people who knew me growing up, they might be surprised to see me singing the praises of these particular foods. I have discovered that it's the American interpretations of all these Old World specialties (along with "Swiss cheese" and beer to name a couple more) that are singularly unappetizing to me. But tasting these foods freshly prepared in their original setting is a different experience altogether.



Some people find the idea of warm wine or beer to be odd, but Troy and I are very fond of these wintry drinks. (See "Gløgg" above). Another once-a-year-favorite is Glühwein (mulled wine), popular both in Germany and in Belgium. Here's Troy enjoying his second cup in a festive keepsake mug.



Night falls quite early this days (around 4:30 pm), but the crowd just kept growing.





The sight of the Kölner Dom (Cologne Cathedral) as backdrop to this giant Christmas tree was spectacular.



The cathedral is a UNESCO World Heritage site and seems to be in the early stages of restoration and cleaning. Already dramatic, it will be absolutely stunning when clean. Hopefully we can return one day to see it, and hopefully that visit will be as much fun as this one was.



'Tis the Season...for baking and shopping, for parties and friends, for snow and hot festive drinks, for God and family and reflection. We wish you a very Merry Christmas and a happy holiday season wherever you are in the world.

September Flashback: Blythe in Belgique (Plus a Spontaneous Visit from Todd)!

Here we are in the second week of December. After a fairly mild fall, winter has now descended upon us here in Brussels. Today we had a Colorado-esque day—the sun was shining and the air was dry, but it was only 1˚ C (~34˚ F), with a cold wind blowing. Troy and I had a full, fun afternoon, our first stop being my French teacher's vernissage (art exhibition), followed by a repeat visit to the Brussels Christmas Market. Ostensibly, we wanted to go back through the market to make a more thorough tour of the little "shops", but the real attraction was the chance to scarf down a steaming bowl of tartiflette and a boudin géant. We love Christmas markets, and I hope to do a real "Christmas" post later this week, before we jet off to Colorado for a couple of weeks. But, in the meantime, I've had a post cooking on the back burner for weeks, so let's have a flashback shall we?

It was early September and the day for which I had been anxiously waiting had finally arrived: my sister was flying in from Denver to spend a week with us! A week is not much time to give someone the full Belgian treatment, but we were determined to do our best.



Blythe's flight arrived in the morning and by the afternoon we were tasting our first beers at the annual Brussels Weekend de la Biere. This was the first of MANY beers consumed during B's visit.



We met some very nice people at the fest, and we were all waiting to see if Blythe's Kwak would make it's eponymous sound. (Perhaps it did, but the boisterous crowd prevented us from making it out.)



After beer, we headed over to Place Jourdan and the venerable Maison Antoine for an authentic, if not exactly healthy, dinner of frites.



No visit to Belgium would be complete without chocolate, and so we decided that Blythe, being an artist herself, must see the chic-est, most sculptural and luxe chocolatier in town—Pierre Marcolini.



The Wednesday market at the nearby Place Châtelain is a fav and the scene did not disappoint.



Wanting to give my sister a fuller picture of our little adopted country, we set off for sites further afield. One day we visited Antwerp and it's amazing Central Station.



Another day we did a mini-road trip through the Ardennes and eventually up to Leuven before returning to Brussels. One of our stops was to La Roche-en-Ardenne and a rainy trek through its ruined medieval fortress in search of its ghost!



The day of Blythe's and my visit to Brugge dawned warm and sunny, with a beautiful blue sky. Perfect conditions for great views from the belfry.





At the end of B's visit, our little group expanded to four as Troy's brother Todd passed through town en route to Hong Kong on business.



We had fun hanging out with our sibs, showing off our neighborhood, eating The Waffle, and gorging ourselves on a Belgian standard: moules-frites (mussels and fries).





The time passed much too quickly, but we had such a good time!!! We can't wait for them to come back!

Photo Album of Blythe's Visit - Click Here

No Cars in Brux!

One day every year Brussels supports a car-free day. Private vehicles are banned for the day, but trams, buses, bicycles, rollerblades and . . . . horses are allowed.

I was relieved to have a day of respite from Bruxellois drivers. Unfortunately, the Bruxellois have the same laissez-faire attitude toward cleaning up after their horses as they have toward cleaning up after their dogs.

Gelukkige Verjaarsdag

One of the cool things about living in Brussels is the extremely interesting and multi-national social circle in which we find ourselves. Case in point, our good friends Cornelle and Serge— Cornelle hails from South Africa, while Serge is a native of the Netherlands. They threw a dinner party recently for Cornelle's birthday, and we were lucky enough to be on the invite list, along with two of their other friends—Cecille (French) and Stine (Belgian). In addition to enjoying the company of this intelligent and witty group, I found it fascinating that three of the partygoers spoke language-variants rooted in the same tongue -- Afrikaans, Flemish, and Dutch. The title of this post is actually in Afrikaans, and means 'Happy Birthday'. Though I am usually able to pronounce things (owing to the singer's ear I presume), I must admit that Dutch frequently confounds me.



Here we are enjoying nibbles and some nice bubbly in C&S's pretty living room. (I'm sitting on the birthday girl's left.) Despite meeting the other two for the first time that evening, the conversation flowed easily, following interesting tracks and resulting in a lot of laughter. (You'll notice that we're laughing in nearly every photo!)



This is one of several toasts over the course of the evening. Us girls hung out in the dining room while the menfolk cooked up a gourmet feast in the adjacent kitchen. Troy makes a pretty decent sous-chef when he sets his mind to it.



Our adventure for the evening came when Troy picked up my heretofore beautiful cake, neglecting to think about the effect of metal-cake-pan-on-glass-cake-stand...and proceeded to launch it halfway across the kitchen. By some miracle of quick reflexes and a bit of gymnastics he was able to save both the cake and the stand! All that butter helped the cake retain its form remarkably well despite everything. Only a slight countertop-edge-shaped divot and a broken side. No matter, it tasted divine. Everyone was practically purring.



Here's a nice shot of Serge and Troy in their kitchen domain, offering up their glasses to a successful evening. My, but don't they look pleased with themselves.

We had a wonderful evening, and wish everyone many happy returns.