Getting adjusted to a 7 hour time difference hasn't been too much of an issue. On the other hand, I have been sleeping in last the last couple of days due to the sheer exhaustion of running around constantly from setting up residence in town hall to signing up for school.
And to top that off, my first weekend spent in Belgium had me dancing until 2 in the morning, experiencing my almost first concussion, and getting up close and personal with mother nature.
Since I really can't understand the language just yet, most of the things my host mother tells me unfortunately goes right over my head. So not surprisingly, when I was told that morning we were going camping, my mind instantly reeled at the idea of spending a whole day doing nothing but hiking alone in the woods, getting lost, and dying alone in the Belgian wilderness.
Though as I pack up my backpack and entertain the idea of writing a will, I notice my family is all in dresses and fancy clothes. To my good fortune, my host parents speak a little English they explained to me not only were we camping later, we were first going to attend the wedding of one of my host brother's childhood soccer teammate.
First of all, nobody told me this thing was taking place at a CASTLE!?! I don't care what people say, this was a C-a-s-t-l-e. I was half-expecting the groom to come out in a suit of armor on horseback.
The wedding was a lovely little ceremony that ended with some Champagne and fancy snacks. I was offered a little of the Champagne and thinking I was hot stuff for drinking alcohol and this fancy gathering, after a few sips, I realized I didn't like Champagne all that much.
As my appetite was growing, I was wondering when we were going to sit down to eat to discover the family was now making their way back to the car. Disappointed, I realized now we were going to eat at the campsite even though I didn't remember the family packing any food. That' it. I get it now. I'm dinner. They're gonna eat me. Where going "camping" in the wilderness so I can never find my way out.
Much to my overdramatization, we stopped by a little french fry shop and got some snacks to hold us over. First of all, these next two photos I'm going to show you are either: A). Just a coincidence or B). A parody of what Europeans think are America's eating habits.
This was called a 'Royale' burger. Now when you look it at, it doesn't look that odd. Just a regular old hamburger bun for a regular old hamburger. Mind you, this was a close up shot. I took another photo to show you how it really looks.
BAM! SERIOUSLY! LOOK AT IT COMPARED TO EVERYTHING ELSE!
Honestly, it was ridiculous how huge this thing was and probably assume it has no direct link to America but it still looks like a bad joke.
Anyway, now with a belly full of french fries and regret, I keep telling myself I'll burn it off when we do all of that hiking later but yet again, is surprised when we pull up to not a deserted, wooded clearing but a grand outdoor center bordered by a mountain wall with over 100 people present.
Yet again lost in translation, turns out this was now a giant birthday party for a family member. So knowing we were going to be somewhat closer to human civilization brought me some much needed relief.
That afternoon, we had set up out tent among the dozens of others
populating this hill that breathtakingly looked over this giant valley.
Me. Camping.
They also had a giant inflatable obstacle course for the kids but obviously, you have one of those thing at a party and every teenager turns it into a giant race course. We did several relay races (I even won one!) but only thanks to employing dirty tactics (ex. Knocking then down the slide again). At one point, I was so lost in the fun and being carefree with everyone else, on top of the slide, other kids were jumping off and grabbing onto the arch that would bend to let them off gently. Normally, this would seem crazy but I was so wrapped up in the fun, I just decided to 'YOLO' it and jump.
Problem was, I wasn't even close to the arch and landed square on my back. Mind you, this was still a giant inflatable course (but as a Hypochondriac) I shakily pulled myself together and I immediately diagnosed myself as having a concussion. I ended up walking around the party for a little while in a daze convinced I was going to die and that nobody could help me because they all spoke French as we were in the middle of the wilderness.
Before I began working out a will, we were served dinner which miraculously cured my ailment.
The rest of the evening was spent mingling with family members who were lovely but I could barely understand, eating till my pants popped, and dancing wildly with welcoming strangers into the wee hours of the morning. Dancing was the only time in the past couple of days I felt in my comfort zone. I love dancing, heck, I own over five Richard Simmons 'Sweatin' to the Oldies' VHS back at home. Not only that, but a lot of the music they listen to in Belgium, I discovered, are American hits. So I felt some perverted sense of superiority being the one who understood when most didn't since it's going to be quite the opposite for a while.
The only near disaster I had at the party was when everyone decided to start a game of volleyball, I left my camera on a table to play and forgot to pick it up before we started dancing. Hours later when I went back for it, the air was so damp, the camera was covered in moisture.
I panicked and tired taking more photos, but only got this blurry mess.
So while I tried to got to bed at 2 am, the party still kept going. I was still tired from the plane trip not even three days ago and just wanted to sleep. But no, all I could do was cover my head, wish for my old bed again in the USA while OutKast's "Hey ya!" blasted through the hill sides.
Terror.
I finally arise the next morning the loud proclaiming of my name to finally join the living. With a mouth full of unwashed teeth and barely four hours sleep, I trudge over to the eternally perky family as they munch on buttered breads with various fruits and cheeses.
I help myself to some much needed nutrients but just as I'm about to bite into a roll, everyone in on front of me is giggling. What? Was I committing a cultural faux pas?
My host father then tell me to look to my left because the grandmother wanted to show me something. And thus, I came face to face with one of our guests last night.
Piggy.
I immediately recoil in horror as everyone finds my terror amusing. It's not that I've never since a pig's head before, It's just that I've never had one shoved in my face 15 minutes after waking up.
Goats that were lead down from the mountain.
We
then all finished packing up tents and said our goodbyes, I took a couple more pictures to make sure I won't
soon forget how all in one day I went to a wedding, attempted camping, almost
suffered a concussion, and came face to face with my dinner.
Belgian Flag.
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