Where did we leave off? Ah yes, at the Alma. Alas today was a lot of blah blah that I had already read off the intraweb, so we'll just confine our talk to the events of yesterday since I am pretty poopin' tired and I need to take a nap before "internationally partying" again tonight. Le sigh, life is so hard.

So after lunch I met a whole whack of new people, including a few from the States, but generally I reach critical mass around seven or eight, so when Kristjana and Antonella went off to hang in the park with some of their buds, I hung back and found a quiet spot to finish my excellent book (No God But God, an excellent history and interpretation of Islam by the religious scholar Reza Aslan, I know a lot of you have heard me talking about it, featured on the Daily Show yada yada, but it's a great book, I highly recommend it). Eventually we headed out for our guided tour, on which I took a bunch of pictures some of which I don't have explanations for because the tour guide spoke quietly and was generally inexperienced, so I didn't get a lot of what he said. Some are just neat architectural things I liked, especially old and new juxtapositions that have always fascinated me.

Yet, I do remember the top two. The very top is the clock and bell guy from St. Peter's cathedral in the Grote Markt, of which there are other pics from other days. The second down is a part of the old city wall (circa 13th century!!) that is currently being restored. The second to last is the economics faculty building, which I took for my Dad because I think it's a pretty sweet modern building (correct my genre, Dadiji).

The tour ended abruptly a block from my house, so I went home tired and uncomfortable. It's freezing in the mornings here, but by afternoon it's easily mid-eighties, so when I go out in a sweater I'm usually pissed off by the end of the day. I decided to finally do laundry and headed down to the laundromat. After putting in my wash I slipped into this little sandwich shop across the street and had a really nice conversation with the owner, who was very curious about the American domestic situation. True to my persistently bleeding heart, I almost started crying talking about health insurance, university tuition and Louisiana, not to mention the military spending/escapades and the very generous gentleman bought me my first coffee, which was really nice.

Overall, with very few exceptions, the citizens of Leuven are really wonderful. Almost everyone speaks English, which makes me feel very spoiled, and almost everyone has the patience to help me when I need it. Today I went to a sandwich shop and told the woman behind the counter that I had never ordered a sandwich before and she took ten minutes explaining the process and translating the Flemish for me. I have heard some stories about anti-student sentiment and acts of racism and discrimination, but so far I have not experienced any of that. I think people who don't speak English are far worse off, so again, I am very spoiled here.

After my truly lovely coffee break (during which a student came into the shop, overheard us talking and turns out he's a first year in philosophy as well, his name was Peter, I have to try to remember) I went back to the laundromat and tried to dry my clothes. The stupid dryer was broken. Even though it was turning it wasn't heating up, so I was just throwing money into it without realizing. Stupid laundry, all told, cost me 8.10 euros and almost three hours. I was so pissed off by the end that I just wanted to come home and bury my head somewhere.

Alas, no such luck. I had to eat, so I fixed myself some pasta, and by the time I was done with that Elena was knocking on my door, ready to go to the faculty bar hop. I hastily dressed and headed out with her and Ksenia to Pangaea, which is sort of like the central student union for all of K.U.Leuven. I met Kristjana there, as well as Riszard and Julia, and they separated us out by faculty and off we went. It turned out not to be a bar hop, so we ended up at a really expensive bar on the Ladeuzeplein that was very chic and fancy, with english quotes all over the walls (e.g. "I'm not young enough to think I know everything." -Oscar Wilde)

The night progressed very nicely. I started with a Guinness and then had a Wild Turkey and soda, which the bartender didn't understand at first but was particularly wonderful with the bubbly mineral water they have here. I had another beer after that and that was it, yet I was both drunk last night (stopping at the nachtwinkel for a microwave lasagna on the way home) and hungover this morning, which I attribute to the extra strongness of the beer and my lack of adequate hydration. I'm trying to fix the latter, as I found out today that the tap water in Leuven is especially nice. Oh Leuven, let me count the ways...

Our philosophical drinking crew was also thrown in with the theology and applied ethics people, since we are all so diminutive in numbers, so I got to know a couple of theology students too. Among them Jerome, a pastor from Nigeria and Benjamin, a theology graduate student from Switzerland. It was really very nice, and many lovely conversations were had. I always end up talking about American politics in the end though, because everyone is so curious and surprised to find that I am not a happy American. I let it slip that I am looking for a nice Belgian boy to fall in love with, and everyone thought that was good idea. We'll see how that goes. The orientation people told us today that the vast majority of Belgian students are not even back yet, so I suppose the streets will be even more teeming when they get here. I believe it, if only because there are still only around 5 of us in a house with 15 rooms, and we are all international (did I fail to mention my Bulgarian housemate, Rozhen? He lives on the floor below me).

Phew, so today I got my bank card for the KBC, and it has a little sweet chip in it (like my old UofT card) for Proton transactions (it makes me laugh that one of my friend's names is emblazoned all over Belgium as a sign of financial convenience). It's a neat thing with the small change stuff you have to do, (soda machines, lighters, one beer) you just put it in the little machines they have at all the stores and vending machines and press "yes" and whatever it is comes off a designated section of your bank account that you can refill at ATMs. It's nice, I love the money systems here. Everything is signed for even though it is electronic, and to make large payments (rent, tuition, utility bills) all you have to do is a bank transfer, which can be set up as "permanent instruction" at any interval you want. It's pretty F-ing sweet. I wish all my money systems were so thoughtfully engineered, although I do love my PNC and my little Tompkins Trust account (who incidentally are sending me 50 free checks all the way to Belgium at no charge).

Okay, well now I'm just rambling because I'm exhausted. Enjoy the pictures and know that I miss you.

Love,

Cakesta

P.S. I know I write a lot in this blog, but let's just curb the incredulousness okay? It's the same kind of annoying as saying I think too much (even if I do, let me land on my face when it's in the cards, no?). I assure you I enjoy it and I spend plenty of time outside (hence pictures?!). Besides, I'm pretty sure these entries will dwindle once the grind gets going and the newness dulls.