Paris, Day 3/3: La Grande Finale

Eight AM wake up calls are no more pleasant in French than they are in English. Regardless, after a quick shower ans some complimentary bird food, we ventured forth, back into the city.

Our first stop was Sacre Coeur, a large basilica situated on the outskirts of Paris atop some rolling hills. I don't actually know much about it, nor have many pictures of the interior because they were holding mass and being from the south and raised Catholic; I know better than to interrupt a service. I did stick my head in the lobby just to catch a glimpse of what all there was to see. I could smell the burning incenses and hear murmuring of the Apostle's Creed (French murmuring). It took me back for an instant to my days at St. Peter's Catholic School...I respectfully genuflected my way back out into the dismal Parisian weather and regrouped with my wolf-pack (I used to consider myself a one man wolf-pack).

Despite our failed attempt to tour the catacombs on the previous day, we returned once more and were able to descend into the City of Lights' renowned crypts.

Spooky. That is the only word fit to describe the mass Parisian grave. The winding labyrinth of decaying human remains creeps its way 20 meters beneath the cobblestone boulevards for a total of 2km. The stale air and distant sound of dripping water (no matter how cliche) combine effectively to send shivers down your spine before even completing the 183 step descension into the tomb. The doorway of the tomb sends a warning to all those of this world: Arrete, c'est ici L'empire de la mort (Halt, this is the realm of death). The catacombs, originally underground mine shafts for limestone production were converted to use as a crypt in 1786 when Paris cemeteries literally reached an overflowing point. Over the next 80 years 6-7 million Parisian remains were placed in their tomb beneath the grand streets of Paris. The tombs stay at a comfortable 14 degrees Celsius but the lingering presence of death and utter silence makes you shiver regardless. The endless walls of human remains is simply put, overwhelming. The entire time spent beneath the city is somewhere in the neighborhood of 45 min-an hour.

We left the catacombs and wandered around the city for the next two hours just killing time until we our loaded up onto our bus. Paris ended up being everything I'd thought it would be: Grand Monuments, beautiful artwork an scenery, rich rfood, and unimaginably inhospitable people. I would recommend to anyone, that given the opportunity, they should travel to majestic city; just expect a less than royal welcome from the locals.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Paris, Day 2/3: Close but no Cigar

The crew slept in a bit this morning since everyone was so tired from yesterday. We set out to find breakfast and pretty quickly came to the realization that some French bistros charge you some 15-25% more for food if you are American or speak English (maybe they forgot, but there's a little thing called D-day...one serving of 'freedom fries' please).

After some food from a local bakery; we made our way to Notre Dame. Built in 1163 A.D. from limestone of the Paris quarries (which would later be converted into the catacombs) in accordance with the Gothic architecture of the time period. To describe the grandeur of this building in words is beyond my literary abilities. The choir was practicing in union with the 1,800 pipe organ....the acoustics were surreal. During WWII, all of the individual stained glass pieces were removed from their settings for fear the Germans' air raids would blow out the windows, or worse, destroy the building itself (fortunately none of this happened).

Rain started falling while we were inside the church, but we humped it to the Pantheon of Paris which was roughly a mile and a half away. The entry fee here was 5.50Euro with a student discount. In 1744, King Louis XV recovered from a serious illness and attributed it to prayers made to Saint Genevieve and pledged to dedicate a prestigious church to her name. The building was completed in 1797 and turned into a national Pantheon some years later. The huge edifice was home to Christian worship until finally being converted over for secular use in 1885 as a temple to house the remains of the nation's great leaders.

Following the Pantheon we headed across the city to the Catacombes of Paris. Unfortunately we got there 15 minutes after they closed.

As disappointing as this was, we decided we were rested enough to attempt the climb to the top of the Eiffel tower -- however, as luck would have it, the 3rd platform of the tower is only open durring the tourist months (which apparently doesn't open until late February). Long story short, we opted to save 8Euro and climb it when we come back in later months.

The evening ended with us grabbing some cheap food and returning to the hostel for some much needed rest (the sheer amount of walking we endured was a feat in itself).

Back at the hostel the group parted ways; Charlie and I made our war down to the lounge and met a group of Australians traveling abroad for the month of January. They were seated in a large roundabout booth with two Canadians we had met the previous night (Connor & Jeff). The conversation wandered for half an hour or so until we were joined by a male Russian named John who was also traveling abroad for the month of January. He soon enlightened us that he was an international politics major which of course sparked a thousand questions I wanted him to answer. A few drinks later and we were in a pretty fierce (but friendly) debate over world politics. An hour or so went by, and we ultimately decided to call it a night but not before I'd gotten a pretty in depth view on how Russians view Americans their international position.

I was ready for sleep at this point, as was Charlie. We still had entire day in Paris before us, no need to be overly tired from the get go.

Author's Note: Keep checking back as I recount my 3 days in Paris.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Epic Fail Award Goes to...

I received my first package today. It was mailed on January the 8th. For those of you not near a Calendar or simply just too lazy to do the math; that's a solid 18 days, gives a whole new meaning to the term snail mail.

On my way home I was waiting for the metro line to come to my station when I noticed two Brits near by conversing. This may seem a bit odd, but when you find random English speaking persons in this country you're almost obligated to go talk to them just because its so rare. As I was talking to them a random guy walked to the same area of the platform and started giving me really weird looks. The two Brits noticed it as well and one of them whispered for me to be careful and that "he doesn't look like he likes you too much there Tom". I ended up picking up my package and heaving it a bit farther down the platform while waiting on the unusually slow train. Finally it arrived and as I was getting on I noticed that he was coming down the platform towards me so I quickly got on the train and strategically set my package in the aisle behind me while I leaned up on a hand rail. Sure enough, seconds later he came lumbering through the door (by this point I was almost certain he was gonna try to pit pocket me) and as the train started to roll, he walked past me and just as I thought, he brushed up against me trying to make it look like it was the train moving causing him to fall. Right as I felt him off balance, I spun sideways and let gravity do the rest. He tripped over the package as my weight moved away from him causing him to fall and hit the ground. He hit his nose on the ground causing it to bleed pretty good. The rest of that section of my car saw what happened and they must have figured out as I had that he was trying to pit pocket me because no one helped him and some of them even started yelling angrily at him in French (no clue what they were saying, but I'm just glad it wasn't directed at me). He got up, moved down the car holding his face and then hobbled off at the next stop. Long story short, the epic fail of the year award goes to that guy....

Many of the students in CUBC have been pick pocketed already and the locals say that its incredibly common. I'm just happy that karma got a hold of one of them.

Other than that, Monday and Tuesday were relatively routine. School work, workout, cook, clean, study. A day in the life of living in Brussels.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Paris, Day 1/3: Tourism Cram Session

The alarms went off at 8:30 so we quickly got dressed and went downstairs to grab some of the advertised 'complimentary breakfast'. Now, generally speaking, I consider complimentary breakfast to be something of nutritional value...not sliced bread, Nutella, and tap water. Back in the states, we call this false advertising, here in France its just business.

After a walk down the canal, we hopped on the metro and got off a couple blocks from L'arc de Triumphe. You've more than likely seen a picture of this Parisian monument although you may not recognize it by its given name. The monument consists of a traffic circle (the largest in the world, so claim the Frenchies) encircling a single arc monument. This historic landmark was commissioned in 1806 by Napoleon Bonaparte in commemoration of his victories in battle (I learned that ego is a reoccurring theme in the French), however as the tides of battle changed, the monument's completion was delayed until 1836. We made it to the arc pretty early in the morning, before the sun was even fully shining. We paid the 5.30 euro and climbed the spiral staircase to the top. The view from atop L'Arc De Triumph is all meanings of the word, breathtaking. Standing there was one of the coolest experiences I've had since arriving in Europe.

I remember studying world monuments and icons back in Shelley's AP European History class just hoping that one day I'd be able to actually go visit them, and here I am. I feel like a lot of tourists (90% of which seem to be of Asian decent, no joke) see the monuments and sights because its on the "Sights to See" list from the visitor center or an add in SkyMall, not because they understand the historic relevance and impact such things had on the culture and history of the country. I think knowing such details gives much more meaning to visiting these places.

After descending the winding staircase of the Arc, we grabbed some lunch off of the Euro menu at McDonald's (Abroad or not, I'm still on a college budget). We strolled down one of the many cobblestone boulevards leading away from the traffic circle. The streets are lined with designer stores stocking everything from Louis Vutton, Armani, Gucci, Rolex, and so on.

Word of Advice: No matter what part of town you're in, Paris is full of gypsies. Its hard to go two blocks without a shawl covered middle eastern woman begging for spare change, claiming the generic misfortune of being displaced with "many hungry babies". If you make the mistake of giving one of them spare change; take a picture, because within seconds twenty others will materialize out of thin air begging the same story. Avoid all of this; just keep on truckin' right past.

The next major monument we came to was the Musee De Louvre. The Louvre was constructed as a fortress by Phillippe - Auguste in the mid 13th century and rebuilt for residency in the mid 16th century. It was transformed into the Musee de Louvre in 1793, the nation's first and foremost museum. The building is divided into four main sections: The Sully, Devon, Richelieu, and the Hall Napoleon. The museum houses an astounding 35,000 exhibits making it nearly impossible to see it all in any time frame under an estimated 9 months (I did not make that up, 9 months). The collection displays a diverse area of emphasis ranging from Islamic artworks to Egyptian Artifacts all the way to a fabulous collection of Greek and Roman antiquities. However, the most attracted collections of de Louvre are without a doubt its' paintings. Such displays feature works from Raphael, Botticelli, Titan, and of course Leonardo da Vinci.

We, like most Louvre visitors entered through the nearly entirely glass pyramid centered in the estate. After descending two stories into the Earth, we stepped foot inside the Grand Hall and lobby of the Louvre. The pyramid (like the rest of Paris) is completely illuminated at night and quite a sight. We were a bit crunched for time (I don't know anyone that has 9 months to spare) so we spent most of our time inside the Egyptian and Roman displays. We eventually made our way to da Vinci's Mona Lisa and I gotta tell you it was cool to actually see it in person; but I was honestly really surprised how small it was. With all the hype it gets, I expected it to be a bit larger than life. Regardless though, it was cool to get to finally see da Vinci's lady.

Walking through the rest of the museum was amazing. Its such a huge building and requires a lot of walking...a LOT of walking. Fellas, I'm going off of experience here, but unless you're the kind of guy that has the honor of going shopping every weekend with his lady and holding her purse while she tries on clothes for you to buy, you are in no way conditioned for this trek. Fortunately for us, the curator of the Louvre must also be male, because there is an abundance of comfortable chairs in nearly every exhibit. The only improvement I would suggest is perhaps recliners on a moving sidewalk, but excuse me, that must be the American in me talking.

After seeing a decent portion of the Louvre, we set off for La Tour de Eiffle. Built for the world fair in 1889 Exposition Universelle (World Fair), many Parisians thought it a blight on the city and dubbed it the "metal asparagus". The tower was nearly town down in 1909 and was only saved because radiotelegraphy scientists realized that its "molecular composition and precise structure" (large, metal antenna) made it ideal for transmitting radio signals. A steep climb at 324m of vertical staircases, we chose to save it for the next day.

We ate dinner at an French bistro and relaxed under the space heaters for a while. I think it would be strange to travel to Mexico and not eat at the very least, a taco (sorry for you Fourth Meal lovers) and the same applies for France. I ended up ordering 25cl of French vino, Bordelino. Warm food and a glass of wine beneath the evening glow of the Eiffel tower helped us to catch our second wind and before long we back out in the city. We navigated our way through Paris' extensive metro system back to the hostel and called it a night on account of everyone being so exhausted.

From our experiences on the first day, I can already tell that Paris is a beautiful city which almost seems like a paradox in my mind. I generally don't like the idea of big cities, but Paris combines history, nature, and architectural beauty to create an awe inspiring city.

Authors Note: Keep checking back as I post my travels through Paris last weekend. Please feel free to comment at the bottom of all the posts. Feedback of all kinds is appreciated.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Paris: The Arrival

My Western Europe Travels book claims that the French people are notorious for being poor drivers and after our bus ride to Paris, I must concur. We arrived at our hostel, Saint Christopher's, around 11:30pm on Thursday evening. This hostel happens to be a branded chain that looks a lot more like a Holiday Inn via appearances, but with rooms broken up into summer camp cabins accommodating up to 8 travelers. Fortunately for us, we traveled with exactly eight people (Myself, Charlie, Nils, Andrew, Brittany, Elena, Erin, Grace). The building was a five story complex complete with bar, dance floor, lounge, billiards room, and an open sauna. We were wide awake when we arrived from traveling to the hostel so after check in I headed down to the lounge to see what all sorts of international wanderers I could meet. Andrew and I ended up hanging out with a group of Brazilians and Argentinians who were traveling after completing their doctorates in various fields of medicine. We swapped travel stories, general interests, views on world happenings, and eventual plans for our trips. This might sound a bit boring, but I love getting opinions from people of other cultures. Its fascinating to see how a person of completely different background views the same sort of situation or event as yourself.

The gang and I had already established that we were going to wake up early and start our sightseeing, so it wasn't too long before I hit the sack.

Author's Note: Keep checking back as I recount my travels through France over the next couple of days!

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Viva La Revolution!

Snooty, sexy, superior, chic, infuriating, arrogant, officious, and inspired in equal measures, the French have long lived according to their own idiosyncratic rules, and if the rest of the world doesn't always see eye to eye with them, well tant pis (too bad) - that's just the price you pay for being a culinary trendsetter, artistic pioneer, and all around cultural icon.

We returned from Paris a mere two hours ago. After shrugging off our coats and packs, its time for some sleep. Keep an eye out the next couple of days as the blogs recount my trip across France.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Paris

Made it to Paris fine. Heading out though. Internet worth more than gold; gotta go.

Heading Out

Hey Everyone,

We're heading out for Paris in a few hours. I just wanted to post a bit to let yall (specifically the NFL Coach a.k.a. Mom for those of you who didn't hang out at CC & Track finish lines) know that I'm not taking my computer so you won't be able to get in touch with me till Sunday or so...but don't worry.

We've already got a place to stay for the nights we're in Paris and we've also got friends from the states that are studying in the city. All in all it should be a lot of fun and I'll be sure to take pictures and notes on everything we do.

Talk to you in a few days!

All good; all the time,

Thomas

College

I remember at my freshman orientation connection class, one of the speakers who was also a student, told the crowd that "a frebreezed shirt is nearly the same thing as a clean shirt". I had always wondered if my life would come to a point where I resorted to febreezing clothes and washing them less often. It has; enough said.

We made plans today to travel to Paris this coming weekend. A charter with Eurotravel is taking us from Brussels' Central Station at 6:35pm to a depot in Paris sometime around 9:35pm. We've got a hostel booked for the three nights we'll be there and then plan on returning Sunday afternoon. All in all none of it was too costly since the round trip cost 38euro and the hostel cost somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 euro for all three nights. The trip should be fun. I know some other American students there that can hopefully help us out and show us the ropes for our time in "The City of Light" (as its commonly translated).

I saw on the weather report on my desktop that Clemson was sunny and had a high today of 67 degrees today. You have no idea how envious we are of this. The weather is completely different on this side of the world. When we arrived, it snowed for days on end (which was honestly pretty cool considering I'd never seen so much of it over an extended period) but now the weather has returned to what the locals are calling "normal" (33 degree rain and drizzle).

I think I've started to blend in a bit more lately. I now know my way around the parts of the city I commute to and from decently enough. It probably helps that I got the metro down pact and no longer look around anxiously and wide eyed as I try to read french. I have even started to pick up bits and pieces of the french language. I may look a bit more like a local than I did when I first arrived, but if anyone has doubts about whether or not I'm foreign to this country, I think all I've gotta do is open my mouth. Apparently a strong southern accent confuses people who aren't familiar with it and I've actually been incorrectly placed from the former soviet block on three separate occasions.

Time to get a bit of sleep though. We've got a full day of classes tomorrow and small amount of accumulated homework.

All good; all the time,

Thomas

Belgian Money Maker

Hopefully some of you have seen Tom Hanks in The Terminal; in case you haven't he plays an international traveler who gets stuck at JFK Airport when his home country, Cracotia, erupts into civil war. The entire movie is based around his survival in the international transit zone of the airport with no job, no living quarters, and no knowledge of the English language. At one point or another he realizes he can earn US currency by returning the luggage carts to the rack counter and receive the one dollar deposit. Call me a monkey, but I've discovered the very same thing here in Brussels. Many of the local markets require that you deposit a single or double euro coin into a meter in order to use a buggy. And, if you just happen to have an extra two or three minutes its actually pretty easy to walk around the block, collect the buggies and take them back, banking roughly a dozen or so euros. Money Maker.

We found a sports bar in the government district of Brussels. It just so happens we got into a verbal disagreement with several gamecock fans who happened to be there and didn't appreciate our cadence counts in efforts to cheer on the Tigers as they took on NC state. Ultimately the Tigers won, the gamecocks were sour sports (what else is new?), and we found a relatively American hangout if we ever need to be surrounded by Natty Light, Pizza, Buffalo Wings, and American sports.

This morning we got up at 9am and went to the equivalent of what would be the barnyard flea market from back home. It was pretty cool, the most surprising thing was the abundance of cheese. Almost every stand sells some form of cheese in a plethora of sizes (they do lack a market for cheddars and edams...disappoint)

We ate lunch at a greek shop that sold something called gyros. It was actually really good. Imagine a pita bread cut in half with a slit filled to the brim w/ steamed cabbage, pulled roast beef, feta cheese, and some greek vinegar sauce. Fantastico!

Going to work out in a bit, and then I'm going to have to take care of some accounting homework.

Until next time,

Thomas

Weekend Rain

We didn't actually do much yesterday on account of the rain that moved in around lunch time. We made a quick dash to the grocery store so we would have enough food too cook dinner but not much else to report about.

Woke up this morning and the rain was still coming down. I had to suck it up for an hour or so in order to get a workout in; we're about to go to a sports bar call Fat Boys that we found via Google in order to watch the Clemson v. NC State basketball game.

We're heading out now. I'll post more later.

Until next time,

Thomas

Cultural Capital of the World

All through high school and college I remember hearing parents and teachers vaguely talk about how Chapin and Clemson were sheltered examples of cultural experiences in the world. Well, now I know they were correct.

At any given time on the metro, you can pretty much bank on being surrounded by a minimum of six to a dozen different nationalities and an equal amount of ethnicities. That fact alone makes this a fitting place for the European Union headquarters, which is located roughly 2 miles from where I live. Sitting on the metro and trying to guess which languages are being spoken around you is a pretty interesting way to pass the time on the daily commute. I live in a French neighborhood, but two blocks away is a primarily Dutch settlement. Beyond there a few blocks you have a neighborhood composed of middle eastern folks and if you keep going you will come to a German block. Back towards our school there seems to be an area of Congolese (King Leopold II of Belgium once claimed the Congo as a colony for his own personal profit). All of these little areas have their own restaurants, their own bakeries, and their own markets. I'm guessing this is similar to how it would feel to live in Disney's EPCOT minus Alladin and the Little Mermaid. Unfortunately though, trying to find a WallStreet Journal in English is nearly as impossible as getting Todd Scott to do anything quicker than a dead sloth (You probably won't pick up on this one unless you go to Clemson).

While I'm on the note of limited availability, I'd like to talk about food for a bit. I don't know if Europeans simply have never heard of Mexico but I'm positive that they've never indulged in Mexican cuisine. Walk into any produce store in Brussels and ask for a Jalapeno and all you'll get is a blank stare (this isn't a language barrier, they simply just do not stock any type of spicy peppers). The same is true for avocados, chili peppers, cumin, tortillas, and cold milk. All the milk and eggs here are kept on shelves next to the cereal...unrefrigerated (my roommate last semester, Kevin, tried this tactic on multiple occasion with our dairy products...which ultimately resulted in sour cream). I don't know what they feed their chickens and livestock to make this possible but whatever they're doing, it seems to work. They DO sell deodorant here, but I don't think its all too popular amongst the locals. Stand close to someone on the metro and you'll quickly come to the same conclusion.

I was doing a plyometrics P90X workout this morning with Charlie and Nils in the living room and it ended up getting pretty warm in the apartment. We cracked the door despite the fact it was snowing heavily so that it could air out a bit during our workout. Within five minutes there was a knock at the door followed by a confused "Bonjour?" (I have no idea if that's how its spelled. I speak English and Redneck, not French). Our landlord had seen the cracked door and the foggy windows from his kitchen and came down to make sure we didn't have the heat cranked up (heating costs in Europe are actually really expensive; ergo we sleep fully clothed). I tried to explain to him that we working out but for some reason his English couldn't comprehend why 3 American guys were doing plyometrics at 9 in the morning with an open door in 20 degree weather and snow. He eventually left contented that we weren't running up his heating bill, but it was humorous none the less. I can only imagine what the sight of us three did for his perception of American youth.

I have essentially become the chef for my apartment. It started out by me just cooking omelets with veggies and cheese in the morning, then advancing up further to spaghetti, burgers, and stir fry. At this point its gotten to where we're sitting around when the question comes up, "Thomas, what are we doing for dinner tonight?" Its okay though, being the chef means you don't have to do the dishes. I'm pretty much the next Emerill.

We had our first "French and Culture" class today. Our teacher is a local Belgian named Jean-Pierre Vandierbuilden who speaks about as much English as I speak French, zero. It was interesting though and once we figured out his system of grunts and pointing, we actually did learn a bit of basic French that will more than likely come in handy during our stay here.

The second of our marketing classes was also today. Not much else to so about that.

WE SAW THE SUN TODAY! IT WAS A MOMENTOUS OCCASION. We woke up this morning and it was drizzling (rain) and a good portion of the snow melted during the night. We grabbed lunch this afternoon in between classes and when we came back out of the subway to go to Marketing the sun was out. It actually makes the city look completely different. Our school is right off of Montgomery Circle and all of the buildings around are older but still very grand and important as they are rented out by many large businesses. Almost all of the snow has melted at this point and you can actually see grass and evergreen needles.

We're not quite sure what we're doing this weekend, but I could get used to Thursday being the new Fridays.

Until next time,

Thomas

Where the sun don't shine, and the grass don't grow...

If you walk through the tourist district of Brussels you can more than likely count three or four tanning beds within the first six blocks, no matter which direction you're coming from. Going to a tanning bed in Brussels would seem a bit pointless in my own opinion, not because there is a plentiful amount of natural sunlight (I have yet to see the sun since my arrival), but because the necessity of wearing four or five layers of clothes just to take the bite off the winter wind, hardly makes a thorough tan a worthwhile endeavor. Based on what I've gathered from talking to locals, the weather here is generally something best described as "dismal" between the months of October and May encompassing very little sun, a small accumulation of snow here and there, and nearly continuous rainfall. The past five days of snow breaks all previous snowfall records as far back as 30 years. I asked our landlady if we could borrow her snow shovel to move the mounds of snow that have holed up in front of our apartment to which she replied, "What snow shovel?"

With the weather being as unaccommodating as it is, my roommates and I quickly realized that cold induced laziness was a serious possibility. When we arrived in Brussels we thought it was strange that everyone conducted their lives so routinely; now we know why. Although we've just completed our first week abroad, we already gotten our lives into a bit of a routine to combat the urge to stay in bed and out of the sub freezing temperatures. As far as our class days go, the alarm starts ringing 8:30am (which translates to us getting up at 9am). After the first cup of Belgian coffee we hit the deck with a P90X workout. Most of the workouts are a little over an hour plus a 15 minute cool down; all this really helps to get you going in the morning. A breakfast composed of eggs, toast, milk/oj, and sauteed veggies follows until its ultimately time to venture out into the cold for class. The honest average commute to class is somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 minutes, all depending on the crowd and time of day. The duration of all classes at CUBBC are 3 hours and 15 minutes. By the time you commute back to the apartment its generally already dark (the sun sets well before 5 o'clock here). Sometimes Nils and I end up going for a jog but if not, dinner is cooked and then a bit of free time. The cold, damp, dark environment really seems to make the time here go buy so much quicker than at home! Its just strange with only a few hours of dim light.

Unfortunately we had a full day of classes today and we now have homework for Accounting and Marketing. Time for me to take advantage of the darkness and get some work done.

Until next time,

Thomas

Das Boot!

I don't know how much you actually know about Belgians, but they are beer lovers. Belgium boasts over 200 registered differently distinctive breweries within its 11,000 square miles. Beer is rich within much of European tradition as within Belgium's own. The tour that we went on today with the CUBBC group offered us the chance to go through one of the breweries and it explained the cultural background and importance that beer has had in European/Belgian history. There is a bar in the tourist district called Delerium that claims to keep over 2080 beer on supply at all times. I've begun to notice that its not uncommon to see a family out to eat and everyone, even the younger teenagers order a beer. Their intentions are not to become inebriated, simply to enjoy a favorite brew. I knew this was so in many foreign countries prior to traveling, but it still surprises you a bit when you see it first hand. My roommates and I purchased a "mixmatch" box that allows you to pick up 6 different beers and purchase them for one flat rate. Of the 6 Belgian beers we purchased Duvel (the beer that a local told me to order on my first night in the country) is still my favorite. One of my roommates, Charlie, agrees that it is superior to anything else we have sampled thus far.

I've had a few boys from back home ask me if there is in fact a mug dubbed Das Boot (German). Well, it just so happens the fabled mug is in fact a reality. This party mug containing two liters is a bit much for even the heartiest of Belgian drinkers. The mug came into existence during WWII, when German soldiers would pass around das boot prior to battle to bring good luck to themselves and their comrades. The idea was passed onto American soldiers stationed in German following the war and many brought their boots back to the states. Its popularity eventually diminished in America until the 2006 release of the movie BeerFest re popularized the hefty mug. If you go to a bar in Brussels, its not uncomon to see a group of people sharing das boot. But beware, bars charge a large deposit on the expensive mug; you break it, you buy it!

Something else that I have observed while wandering around is that everyone is significantly smaller than persons from back home. Granted, I am taller than most people, but to actually see someone here who is taller than myself is quite rare. On top of that, facial hair is non existent. Its safe to say that my 6ft + build, scraggly beard, wrangler jeans, and rocky boots stand out a bit in this significantly different culture.

We stopped and had lunch while on our tour today at a street called Kabob street. Those of you back home would understand this word as "shishkabob" or something similarly spelled. For all yall not from below south of the Mason Dixon line, allow me to explain. Basically a shishkabob is a wooden stick with a variety of grilled meats and veggies (some of the ones here have fruits, but I wasn't too big on grilled apple and what not).This street is essentially 200 yards of vedors that offer nothing but mini shishkabob stands all for a reasonable price (comparatively to other food items here). They offer everything from strictly red meat, to vegan, to veggie, to a smorgasbord of everything. And believe me, every bit of it was delicious. Oh, and if you happened to get thirsty while indulging on a amazing Belgian kabob, lucky enough for you, all the stands also offer a variety of famous Belgian beers (and bottled water for "American children" as one vendor jokingly told a group member).

As far as getting around goes, well I grew up in Columbia/Chapin, South Carolina. There are no subways or metro rails in SC. The entire setup of the metro system, combined with the bilingual signs (neither of which are English), all makes up for a sensory overload and me quite utterly confused and lost. No matter how many times I think I understand where I'm trying to go and which train I need to find...it never quite pans out like I intended. The only saving grace is that I am not the only one having this issue. Apparently all my roommates and classmates are having similar difficulties understanding the comings and goings of the underground subway. The teachers and advisers tell us it just takes practice; what in life doesn't?

First Day of Classes

Woke up this morning around 8:30 am. Nils and I continued our P90X workout and then ate the last of our eggs. We stopped and got a Belgium waffle in the metro and it was absolutely the best waffle that anyone in the group has ever had, hands down.

Classes started today and we got to the school a bit before hand. Class time on Mondays is from 1:30 to 3:30. Accounting is the only class that I have on Mondays and Wednesdays. Sounds like its going to be a formidable amount of work to stay on top of it.

Still snowing today although it did get above freezing yesterday afternoon which allowed a bit of the buildup to melt down some. Temperature is back at 29 degrees with a pretty good amount of wind. Another winter Belgium day.

I uploaded a few more pictures today under the Brussels tab from just around my apartment. The internet over here is a lot slower and they charge your per mb of usage so I have to upload pictures one by one when I'm at school so that I don't run up too much of a bill back at the apartment.

Took another trip to the grocery but starting to get into the routine of day to day activities. Nothing overly special. We've got a tour of Brussels tomorrow with the University. I've seen a lot but still looking forward to see more.

Until next time.

Thomas

An Introduction to Belgium Life (Re-Post)

Classes start tomorrow. That should be interesting.

We spent the last two days wandering around the city, trying to get our bearings on everything, and getting into a routine. Supermarkets really don't exist here in Brussels; you have smaller shops and stores that will have a very limited selection of general goods. We realized that people generally go to the store everday or every other day and just get what they need for the next days meals. We made two trips yesterday to get supplies and cooked spaghetti with caesar salads and actual french bread from the local bakery. Tonight I cooked everyone burritos (you have no idea how hard it is to find Mexican food supplies. Jalapenos are non existent). Just to hit on how much Belgians like french fries, there is an entire aisle in most marts dedicated to a selection of French fries.

I had a pretty long conversation with our landlord Gert (pronounced Hert). He was very curious about who I was and where I came from. He obviously followed American politics as he was well versed in almost every major current political agenda of Obama and his administration. He got so excited about hearing my own personal opinions of world views. He is an artist and a professor at a local college.

Belgium is currently undergoing record breaking winter conditions. It has continually snowed on and off since I landed and snow banks have begun to pile up all over the city. Generally Belgium gets no more than an inch a week but some places have gotten over a foot in 3 days and the average lows are breaking history recorded lows. I love running in the snow. Nils (one of my roommates) and I started the string of our P90X workout today and running in the cold is a great way to cool down afterwards. There is a basilica probably 200 yards away from our apartment that has somewhere around a twenty acre park in front of it. The park will probably serve as my running course for most of the time I'm here. I did venture out into the city earlier today on a run and its very easy to get turned around still if you're by yourself.

Until next time,

Thomas

The Arrival

After a series of flight delays, lost baggage, and screaming infants we managed to set down in Brussels around 2:30pm local time with steady snow flurries and temperatures around 22 degrees Fahrenheit. Our concierge, Andre, (who spoke French, only French) got us loaded into a van and took us straight to the CUBC center. After a brief orientation in which we were given metro passes and EU cell phones, we had an hour break and set out to find my apartment.

Two of my three roommates arrived a day ahead of myself so it was much easier to locate my new residence with their help. Once you leave CUBC you hop on the metro at the end of the block, take it through 4 stops and then jump ship, climb two flights of stairs and jump on another rail line that takes you a solid 8 stops before letting you off at the end of the line. Once out of the metro, my apartment is a short 5 minute walk through a snow covered park and down a side alley. All in all it takes roughly 30-35 minutes, depending on the train schedule, to get from my side of town to the next.

I live in a very quaint, modestly furnished 2 story, stand alone apartment. The entire building is antique hardwood flooring with matching rustic wooden furniture. My shared bedroom in on the ground floor adjacent to the kitchen/dining room that you see pictured here. The upstairs houses the bathroom, a small living area, and the second shared bedroom.

Our landlady Barbara seems very nice but I have yet to meet her husband. They live in a larger 3 story apartment in the building in front of us. Her husband is some type of artist and works from home in his basement studio.

We met up again with the rest of the Clemson group three blocks away from the CUBC center at the Montgomery hotel around 6:30pm. Once it hits 5:00pm the sun has pretty much set and you can feel the temperature drop if you stand outside for a few minutes. We all ate together at a restaurant called Primus which is in the heart of downtown Brussels and only a block away from the magnificent Grand Palace (more on that later).

I sat at the table for roughly 5 minutes staring at a menu written in a language that was unknown to me, before I turned around and asked a group of French couples behind me what a newcomer to Belgium should eat and drink in a Belgian restaurant. A hardy fellow with a pony tail, beard, and a bald spot that put Phil Reath to shame, told me to order a Belgium specialty dish called Moules et frites. He then followed up by telling me to try a Belgium beer called Duvel (devil). His endorsement of the beer was that, "It will turn American boys into Belgium men" ending with a round of laughter from himself and his comrades. The Moules et frites is essentially a huge boiling pot of white vine, paprika, chopped vegetables, and about 50 Belgian mussels. It is served with a vat of crisp french fries smothered in mayonnaise, ketchup, and paprika (I later learned that french fries with mayo is the number one eaten snack by Belgians). The mussels were quite good and french fries could have taught McDonald's a thing or two.

Dinner in Belgium is a social experience. Americans have a tendency to want to be seated, wait roughly 3-5 minutes, order their food, and expect it to be served roughly 10-15 minutes later. As explained in our intro to Belgium Orientation packet, Belgians like to "eat, drink, and socialize". Dinner took roughly an hour and a half to two hours once we paid and got our 32 person group out of the restaurant.

After dinner the group broke up, 9 of us set out to explore the city nightlife. My own past experiences with being in a city after nightfall is nothing outside of being in downtown Columbia, however this was much different. The city seems to come alive at night. Although the stores and shops close down around 6:00pm; the bars, taverns, pubs, theaters, clubs, and cafes stay open nearly 24 hours a day. The freezing temperatures and biting wind do little to keep the locals from wandering downtown after hours. Depending on what you're looking for, you can find a hangout that suits your needs (Oddly enough though, Belgians seem to have an crazy preoccupation with Taylor Swift as much as Americans do. Its is overplayed just as frequently here as it is in a Crawford Falls party). We meandered from hangout to hangout just trying to get a bearing for what all was out there.

We ended up heading in a bit earlier than we expected since pretty much everyone in our group suffered from jet lag and had received very little sleep the two days prior. All in all I am incredibly excited about being here. Its 7:30am in the morning as I finish up this post (attributed to the extreme time change) and I can just see the first light starting to appear outside. I'm about to lace up and jog through the city to see what all else I can find.

Until next time,

Thomas

Predeparture

Nearly finished packing at this point. It pretty much hit me today that I will be leaving the country for the next 4 1/2 months. After going to Clemson for a year and a half its hard to imagine what a huge shift this will be, especially since I like Clemson so much.

Living in a country that speaks two languages (neither of which are your own), away from all that is familiar and normal about your life...its a strange feeling.

I'm looking forward to it though. I can't wait. If everything I've heard is true, then this experience will truly be one of a lifetime.

Until next time,

-Thomas