There will shortly come a time when I no longer have the time to do these entries daily, so let's take advantage of my short-lived freedom, shall we?

Sundays in Leuven are sleepy, sleepy days. Everyone stays in their houses or about their private business (church? sleeping one off? waiting for everyone else?) for the large part of the morning and the early afternoon. Tiensestraat (my straat) is ordinarily very busy from very early in the morning, but I slept undisturbed until 10. My coffee joint was closed until well after 2 (pictured below in all its charm) so I was roughing it with some tea I found in the cupboards upstairs. I walked around, took some pictures, one of which was the rather gloomy picture to the right of the cathedral that sits directly across the Grote Markt from the Stadhuis. Apparently Saint Peter's Church in its current 15th century Gothic incarnation was initiated by the architect Sulpicius Van Vorst (I think that'll be the name of my first born child) and it took 72 years to complete, so there were other architects with names that were not quite as cool: Jan Keldermans II and Mathieu de Layens (no offense Jan or Mathieu, if you're reading this).

The afternoon passed uneventfully, and I went back to Erasmus to start reading Repetition, which I should have read a long time ago. It's good to be reading a work of Kierkegaard's that's new to me, even though I haven't been long from him. Quite a few beautiful thoughts to be repeated, but here's the description that I was still thinking about as I sat down to write this:

"A certain toss of his head and flippant air convinced me that he had a deeper and more complex nature, while a certain hesitation in inflection suggested that he was at the captivating age in which spiritual maturity, just like physical maturity at a far earlier age, announces itself by a frequent breaking of the voice." [133]

While the recognition of this "frequent breaking of the voice" struck me beautifully, I would disagree with Constantius insofar as he believes such a rare and important vulnerability comes at a certain age. I believe I have met many people who disdain the very idea of spiritual maturity, though perhaps I am wrong in believing that therefore they have never experienced the inescapable insecurity of living at the mercy of the unknown. I know quite certainly that I can never count on such transitions culminating in a higher awareness or being or spirituality, but I think (at least at this point) that anyone who experiences that helplessness in its full shaking of their convictions never really emerges out the other side. Maybe that's where the disdain that seems so common to me comes from, but who knows... just elaborations on a theme. I hope no one expected me to exclude my philosophical ruminations from this record, however half-ass. I will of course do no such thing.

Anyhoo, when I got back to the huis my housemates Elena and Ksenia (two exchange students studying law from London--though originally from Russia) were bored to tears by the sleepy Belgian Sunday and so suggested that we all go out for dinner. I had resolved not to take any more money out of the ATM since I have a bunch of American cash clearing tomorrow, but when you're alone and the wind blows other people in your direction, I've learned you just put up your sails and stow the punctilios. We wandered around a bit, but most of the restaurant-restaurants are pretty expensive, so I suggested this awesome Indian take out place that I had discovered last night called Taj Mahal. I had been confirmed in my choice by meeting the one and only student from the department that I have met as of yet, Margherita and her partner who told me it was one of the best Indian places in Leuven.

It bears mentioning at this point how super small Leuven is. I met a couple on the bus to IKEA yesterday and I have now seen them three times on the street. There's another somewhat surly gentleman that I "met" while waiting in the International Student Housing office, where he thought that in my confused state of near-dead exhaustion I was trying to cut the line and barked something like: "You know all these people have been waiting longer than you!". We pass each other routinely and frankly, if he continues to snear at me, one of these days I will have crusty British face for dinner, and I'll boil it for the sake of cultural pluralism.

Taj Mahal, despite the fact that it is primarily a take-out place and sits lonely on the end of a row of very large and expensive touristy restaurants, still has a few tables outside. So we sat outside and had a lovely and very large dinner for 10 euros each. Pictured to the right, sated and smiling, Ksenia is next to me and Elena farthest to the right. They are my floormates and I think we will have quite a quiet floor once our studies get started. From what they say and certainly what I've heard, studying law is no joke and I'm sure European law is no exception.

Okay, that's pretty much my Sunday, and now it's time to log onto Myspace for my daily three hours (I miss you all so much!) before reading some more and going to bed, so I will break this post off rather abruptly by saying simply:

Lates!