Waiting for the bus this morning, I turned on my iPod and mentally prepared myself for the day (determined that this time, I would actually notice the bus coming and flag it down before it pulled away as happened on Wednesday morning). The first song that came up was the title track from Needtobreathe's new album "The Outsiders." I smiled to myself as I listened to the lyrics, realizing that some of the concepts were actually quite appropriate for my current situation over here in Brussels:
"On the outside,
You’re free to roam
On the outside
We found it home
On the outside
There’s more to see"
I am, without a doubt, an outsider over here. No matter how I try to fit in, I still stand out. But, as I approach the three week mark of my stay in Brussels, I realize that it's okay. That's not to say that I will not try to adapt to my surroundings and respect this astounding and different culture, but I will be proud of who I am and where I come from. I may come from the outside, but I will explore and learn about and observe this new place. Not only am I learning more about the culture over here, but I am also delving deeper into the values of my American culture as the glaring differences rise to the surface. While my culture is different and doesn't quite fit into the puzzle of life over here, I won't be ashamed of it. When I first arrived, I was embarrassed that little behaviors like smiling at strangers and not knowing how to open the bus door left the natives scowling at my stupid "American" behavior. But now, I just laugh it off and know that I'm learning. I don't know that this is the specific message that Needtobreathe was going for, but I took pieces of it and made it my own.
Beyond this minor revelation, I had an interesting transit to work. Upon hopping on the tram and traveling just one stop in the direction toward work, the driver announced something in French. Then, all of the passengers began to get off the train. I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on, so, like a little lost lamb, I followed the herd of people to a nearby tram. The only problem was, I did not want to board a tram and end up in the middle of a corn field or Lord knows where. And then it began to rain. It was actually more comical than anything. I considered phoning my Furman professor for advice, but I decided to give into adventure and wing it. I approached the traffic director gentleman and inquired, "Parlez vous anglais?" Much to my relief, he replied, "Yes, I do." He then told me that I had to take the tram that everyone herded to for two stops, and then pick up the tram that would take me to work. Thank goodness. I did as he said and made it to the proper stop where I stood in a huge pack of Europeans in the chilly rain for a few moments before my saving grace of a tram finally arrived. I then resumed my "chill state" and settled into a tram swet where I soon noticed some of my IDF comrades were on the very same tram, and we struck up polite conversation about the craziness of the situation. Sweet victory. So the moral of this little tale is this: public transportation is a crazy beast. You never know where you might end up (besides in the lap of the smelly man beside you as the bus/tram/metro comes to a screeching halt without warning). Just go with it.
Today at work, I am compiling information for the meeting at Parliament on Monday. It has been a very informative week here so far, and I am excited to delve into these exciting projects. I am also looking forward to regrouping this weekend and curling up with my newly fixed Macbook.
On a side note, I got electrocuted yesterday when trying to plug in my Macbook to the adapter that was already in the outlet. Not a good decision, I concluded as the heat of the shock burned through my fingertips. You live and you learn.
"On the outside,
You’re free to roam
On the outside
We found it home
On the outside
There’s more to see"
I am, without a doubt, an outsider over here. No matter how I try to fit in, I still stand out. But, as I approach the three week mark of my stay in Brussels, I realize that it's okay. That's not to say that I will not try to adapt to my surroundings and respect this astounding and different culture, but I will be proud of who I am and where I come from. I may come from the outside, but I will explore and learn about and observe this new place. Not only am I learning more about the culture over here, but I am also delving deeper into the values of my American culture as the glaring differences rise to the surface. While my culture is different and doesn't quite fit into the puzzle of life over here, I won't be ashamed of it. When I first arrived, I was embarrassed that little behaviors like smiling at strangers and not knowing how to open the bus door left the natives scowling at my stupid "American" behavior. But now, I just laugh it off and know that I'm learning. I don't know that this is the specific message that Needtobreathe was going for, but I took pieces of it and made it my own.
Beyond this minor revelation, I had an interesting transit to work. Upon hopping on the tram and traveling just one stop in the direction toward work, the driver announced something in French. Then, all of the passengers began to get off the train. I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on, so, like a little lost lamb, I followed the herd of people to a nearby tram. The only problem was, I did not want to board a tram and end up in the middle of a corn field or Lord knows where. And then it began to rain. It was actually more comical than anything. I considered phoning my Furman professor for advice, but I decided to give into adventure and wing it. I approached the traffic director gentleman and inquired, "Parlez vous anglais?" Much to my relief, he replied, "Yes, I do." He then told me that I had to take the tram that everyone herded to for two stops, and then pick up the tram that would take me to work. Thank goodness. I did as he said and made it to the proper stop where I stood in a huge pack of Europeans in the chilly rain for a few moments before my saving grace of a tram finally arrived. I then resumed my "chill state" and settled into a tram swet where I soon noticed some of my IDF comrades were on the very same tram, and we struck up polite conversation about the craziness of the situation. Sweet victory. So the moral of this little tale is this: public transportation is a crazy beast. You never know where you might end up (besides in the lap of the smelly man beside you as the bus/tram/metro comes to a screeching halt without warning). Just go with it.
Today at work, I am compiling information for the meeting at Parliament on Monday. It has been a very informative week here so far, and I am excited to delve into these exciting projects. I am also looking forward to regrouping this weekend and curling up with my newly fixed Macbook.
On a side note, I got electrocuted yesterday when trying to plug in my Macbook to the adapter that was already in the outlet. Not a good decision, I concluded as the heat of the shock burned through my fingertips. You live and you learn.
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