Life: Idiotropic

But what was I harvesting? Trunks and pumpkins!

Yep, on Sunday morning, I got up before Mr. Sun and left before any sign of movement in my home. The kids slept. Kirk slept. The cat slept. It was amazingly quiet.

There was no need for a mug of coffee and a wagon since I knew I couldn't stay long, but I was on my way back to Tongeren to pick up my trunk. What was an easy hour there turned into a not-so-easy two hours as I hit a blocked road on the way there, tried to listen to Stella who took me to dead-end after dead-end, then found my own way back to a beginning point and got around the closed road my own way. Then I got to Tongeren, couldn't go down the street where the shop was, and was forced from one narrow one-way street to another making the same dismal loop over and over again until I was almost in tears. What was supposed to be an exillarating trip to pick up my treasure turned into a frustrating escapade with no one there to help me. One nice man helped me get to the market, but the roads that I needed to use were blocked, so I kept getting back to the same church on the hill, then down the wrong way on a one-way street until a man came up facing me in his car and wouldn't move until I turned around. Eventually, I told Stella to take me home. She got me to a point where I could find my way back to the shop and I just went down that "do not enter" street anyway so that I could get my 200 year old Austrian trunk and get out of there. The positive is that I saw a lot more of Tongeren that I've ever seen before and there are some beautiful churches and statues there. It would be a nice city to walk through, but driving there is crazy.

When I got home it was still morning and the kids were eating their breakfast. The weather was beautiful, so later that afternoon Kirk took Luci to GK for their father/daughter date. They went biking and ran into GK's big Octoberfest celebration downtown. He said it was really nice with a lot of food, rides, and games for the kids. While they were gone, I took the rest of the clan to the Kurbis stand in Stahe just down the road from us and let them pick out some small pumpkins. We'll get our big ones later when it's closer to carving time.


I've seen more variety of squash here than every before which is funny to me since the Germans don't eat as many of them as we do. They eat spaghetti squash and butternut and not much else. Pumpkins are only for Halloween that is beginning to catch on both here and in the Netherlands. She had pumpkins in tan, orange, white, and green... long skinny orange tubes, crook-necks, butternuts, small green and varigated squashes, a big green one in the shape of a U, and these alien squash in the shape of flying saucers with little knobs all over them like warts gone mad. Along the back of her room she had a string of lights with carved pumpkins hanging from them... they'd been carved, their bottoms cut off, then dried, and they looked really neat. I think we'll get some crook-necks next time and try to dry those.

I remember when I was about five, my best friend moved away. His name was Jason and he had a really cool house and a dog and a sit-and-spin. He was the first person I ever cried over. And I absolutely bawled.

So it hurts me now to see my little girl going through those same pains with a little boy that she loves. Nevan is her best friend and his last day of school is tomorrow. She's cried over him three nights now. Tonight she made a card for him. She wrote inside, "I really miss you. I love you" and she drew a picture of the two of them together.

Saturday was his birthday party and a time for all his friends to say good-byes. They had it at the bowling ally on base, so when they weren't bowling, they played on the big climbing structure inside. Nevan had a race track cake with cars on it and made the funniest face when he accidentally chomped down on a certs mint that his mom had used in decorating it. He's a great kid. I think I'll even miss him. He's one of those great personalities that just brightens up a room and makes everyone laugh.

He's moving to Oklahoma though... we might see him again. That's what I'm telling Arianna. She can write to him and send cards and email. And, in a few years, she just might see him again. We hope so.

Luci tried bowling that day and surprised me by how she took to it. Now she wants to bowl every week. Arianna can only handle bowling about 4 frames, so she started, got tired, and then Luci finished. I think Luci enjoys it more. Poor Arianna tried to throw the ball. It went part way down, then slowed down, came to a brief stop, then started rolling back towards her. Bowling is just not her thing.

At the end of a long day I always take a few minutes to look out the window. Each sunset here is beautiful and we enjoy the patterns the clouds make. One day this week we saw some wonderful shapes. Tiara and I immediately saw the same dolphin and then a bird, so I snapped this photo. By the time I'd taken another, the dolphin was gone and had morphed completely. Some day I'll have Kirk take a photo of his 5 girls staring at clouds from the playroom window. It would be a typical shot. One can never be to old to gaze at the shapes in the clouds.

I've always been a beach comber. All time stops when I'm at the beach... to the great dismay of my family who are constantly begging me to come back to reality. "Oh... just one more shell. That one over there is so pretty. Oh... I see another one... just another minute. Pleeeeease." This is the time when Tiara acts more like the adult and I am the child who won't listen.

There are no beaches in the vicinity, but the chestnuts are almost as addictive. They really are beautiful. Next year I'll have to come up with some good chestnut recipes and roast them. Mine are all gone now. They don't save well and I wasn't ready to roast them.

These beautiful nuts bring people together here - it's very sweet to see. Along the side of the road driving home the last few days I've seen families out under the chestnut trees hitting the upper limbs with sticks and gathering the nuts below. They are a traditional food here this season and the people seem very happy to be out together in this beautiful weather filling their bags. Under the base trees are families as well with wagons and bags of all sizes gathering nuts for the holidays ahead.

This morning I made cake for my International Women's board meeting. I'm trying to shake up that group a bit. They are all fantastic people, but tend to get a little serious sometimes, so, I'm bringing muffins and cake to all the meetings now. It sweetens them up and I think it will get them interacting a big more... may be. That's the plan anyway. Today I made "Togetherness Cake," a quick and easy, always yummy recipe from my great-aunt Terry.

Yesterday Arianna announced that it was Clown Bear's birthday, so having leftover cake this afternoon was perfect. We lit the big candle since we couldn't find the birthday candles and we all sung. Arianna was very happy and helped Clown Bear scarf down her cake. Clown Bear is 11. Her real birthday is July 14, 2005.

A couple days later all the stuffed animals in the girls' room gathered in a semi-circle around a little chair where Arianna and Clown Bear sat. Arianna called all the family to come in and we all sang again and watched Clown Bear open up her present - a cute little teddy-bear blanket that Arianna had wrapped up.

Now Luci wants to celebrate Tiger's birthday. I think I'd better get these dates on the calendar and start enforcing the 1-birthday a year rule... the girls have figured out that birthdays mean cake and they have a whole lot of animals and dolls that they could celebrate with!

A couple weeks ago, I was talking with Andrea and we realized that we were both "craving" those wonderful Dutch pannekoeken that we'd eated a couple months ago together in Thorn. Since our husbands had last Tuesday off, we decided to take a trip back there together.

Thorn is small and really doesn't change, so there was no need to do the tour. We went directly to the pannekoeken place and headed to the keller (basement) where the play room was. It was dark as any proper keller should be, but off in a side room was a wonderful little climbing play structure for the kids. We were able to enjoy a wonderful meal and the kids ran back and forth grabbing a bite or two of food, then running off to play. It was the most peaceful meal I've had in a long time.

It was also the most expensive pancake meal I've ever had and I've firmly decided that while I love pannekoeken, I will definitely find a good recipe from a Dutch friend and forego eating there again. A pannekoeken for each, dessert pannekoeken, and drinks= $105. Cha-ching. Sorry visitors... you'll just have to have pancakes at my house.

But, if you're willing to be extravagent, you can go to Thorn for just about anything imaginable on a pancake... Mexican pancake, Gyro pancake, strawberries with whipped cream, ham with cheese and leaks, amaretto with fruit, etc... And you won't need to eat for a week. They are filling.

Post meal we stopped at a little antique store we'd been to once before. They have birds - not antique ones, real ones, so the girls were all entertained watching those while we browsed. There was nothing tempting, but I did like the old fashioned doorbell. It was a metal wheel with bells on it. A string ran from an arm on the wheel through the wall. Your visitor would pull the string and the belled wheel would spin sounding the bells. It was orange with rust, but interesting.


Kirk liked the old scythe and the rusty pitchfork. I thought that the antique ice skates would be great in his "man room" someday, but that began quite a long dialogue that ended up continuing at work among his friends. Apparently, ice skates, no matter how old, are not manly, and I, no matter how long we are married, am not allowed to decorate his "man room" at all. Fair enough... less work for me.

Walking back to the car we saw the same orange flowers I'd seen the week before in Sittard. They really are beautiful. And, I saw this old door with the 1648 above it. The funny thing is that houses here are absolutely built to last forever. I've seen several new brick homes here with dates above them as well... 2004 on one! But, in 100 years someone will walk by that house and think, "wow, that's an old house!" The last photo is of a window... nothing overly tremendous except that I am always interested in what people have in their windows. Windowsills are wider here and every window usually has some object d' art in it.

Tongeren.

I am sitting here with the smile of a cheshire cat feeling as relaxed and rejuvenated as I would after a day at the spa. I have found my Mecca, at least on Sundays.

One of my friends here was once stationed in England during which time she took a tour bus, through the night, to Tongeren. Now she's thrilled to live just an hour away.

On Sunday I got up while it was still black outside. The coffee was brewing, and my purse and shopping bag were already loaded into our radio flyer wagon that sat by the front door. Kirk's alarm clock was annoyingly set 30 minutes before I needed to get up, so I had extra time to blog and fold laundry.

At 0655 I left, coffee filled travel mug in one hand, and wagon pulled with the other. I ran across the empty street to meet Holly at the other side and we were off. Wide-eyed and excited. No husbands and no kids.

Tongeren is a town in Belgium. The drive is fairly straight and easy in spite of some construcion along one road. I learned that Holly's Dutch "Betty" GPS system is as "reliable" as my "Stella" when trying to navigate around detours. Finally we followed a local and drove in the wrong lane against traffic. Fortunately, for us, there was no other traffic and no police either.

The 20 minute home stretch is lined on both sides with antique shops of all sizes. They were all so enticing. It was like walking past the bakery window on the way to a nice restaurant when you're famished.When we got there, the trucks were still unloading along the old city wall. We parked near the gate and began our day. The market begins there right at the city gate and continues down the road sandwiched between the road on one side and the old city wall up on the grassy hill to the left. Venders park their big vans and trucks on the side of the road, unload their treasures right there on the ground, and sit in their beautiful old chairs ready to sell. Almost nothing is marked with prices, so you have to ask, but most venders speak adequate English.

There is too much to see and immense variety. Chandeliers, stuffed foxes, 17C metal pots, furniture both rustic and ornate, pottery, glass, bronze, leather, teddy bears - little pieces of history. Walking along I made mental notes of things I might want to come back for... an old bench for our entryway, a hall tree, a small chandelier for the girl's room, a leather hat box, a long kitchen worktable...

Things I won't need... a fox butler, a 350 Euro dress form (though it was pretty), a 4' art deco vase that will surely break in the move... Yeah, that was a short list. Tongeren is a decorators dream. The variety from the truly valuable to the simply quirky is astounding, and would be really fun with an unlimited budget, a big house, and a grand imagination. Who knows... in the right home, my foxy friend might be the perfect addition.



The antique market winds around several streets, by countless antique stores which are also open, through a large warehouse full of venders, and into an large square. The warehouse had mostly glass, jewlery, and bronze. I fell in love with a 3' bronze statue of a dancer. It would have been an amazing Christmas gift for Tiara. In time... may be. I've always loved statues, but have never bought one. Walking around the market, there were several that caught my eye and the prices weren't horrible. In fact, none of the prices were horrible. Of course, the truly valuable antiques weren't selling for peanuts, but they were selling for about 1/4 of what I've seen them for in the states.

In one of the first booths I found a beautiful old hall mirror framed with nicely carved mahogany. It tempted me all day. One vender had an entire 8' square table heaped with old wooden shoe forms of all sizes. Another sold old wooden balls.
I found a sleak old "boat" at one booth. It's about 4' long and 1' wide with handles on each end and a large well carved in the middle. It wasn't actually a boat, but that's what Kirk called it when I got mine home. It was once used to gather and then grind up grains. What was special, is that it was carved from one piece of wood - from a large log. There is no glue holding it together - no nails, no screws, no other pieces of wood. Filled with breads and treats on a buffet, with gifts under the Christmas tree, with pots of potted flowers, it will look fantastic. So, I bought it... and then later found one carved from an olive tree that is even more beautiful, so I got that one and my friend bought mine (she'd had her eye on it anyway!). These were fairly early finds in the day, so we pulled them all through the market in my little red wagon complete with the UW bumper sticker on the back. There was no mistaking that we were Americans, but no one seemed to be bothered by the wagon. Instead, we were frequently stopped with questions and comments like, where did you get that, what are you going to do with that, I've been wanting one of those, or wow, that's beautiful. People without English skills would smile, look at our "boats," and gently run their fingers along the edges of them as we pulled the wagon by.

My friend found a darling cast iron piggy bank for her daughter. It looks just like Wilbur with a sweet little smile on his face, but he has wings, and is rather indestructible and heavy. She also got some red leather balls that she put in a wooden bowl on a table. They look great!
On one of the side streets, we saw this sweet scene which is very typical of Europe and probably didn't catch the eye of any locals there. Just another day at the market... These shiekly dressed
folks enjoyed a chat and their cappuccinos using this beautiful antique trunk as a table.

When we'd seen the entire market and I'd passed by "my" mirror again, we stopped at a little Italian place for lunch so I could think about my mirror a little more. Lunch was good, but not fantastic. Still, it was fun to eat there. The patio was crowded with each table filled. The awning covered all but the last row of tables by the railing, so when it began to rain, we motioned for our dining neighbors to scoot closer and everyone else did the same. The cozy place got cozier, but everyone was laughing and talking together like it was a big party. Holly and I just smiled and enjoyed our visit since most of the conversations were in Dutch or French, but the atmosphere was still very celebratory, so even though I didn't understand the words, it felt good to be there.

By the time our meal was finished the market was packed up and gone making my mirror decision for me, so I ducked into a small out-of-the-way antique shop around the corner just to get one last anique fix before we headed home. Babs sat at the large desk that overpowered her tiny little shop. She puffed loyaly on her cigarettes with a cloud of smoke swirling rather cartoon-like above her. Holly and I walked in and began to look around. Babs, the friendly proprietor, asked if we were American and said that she could "smell Americans." Surprising that she could smell anything above all that cigarette smoke! But... there in that tiny little room was a big trunk that grabbed me. Really, I'm pretty sure that this trunk actually reached out and tapped me on the leg begging to be looked at. Thinking that an old trunk would be wonderful as a coffee table, I'd been looking at them on and off all day, but this one wasn't made of thick dark wood like the others I'd liked. This one was a lot more rustic and worn. This one was hand painted in greens and reds and had seen some things in its years. Babs said it was from Austria. Her husband had just brought it up the day before (so it wasn't yet steeped in smoke). It was made in the 1820's. Hearing Austria just about sinched it since my grandfather is from there and then she dropped the already low price by 75Euro. That's all I needed. It's now a very happy addition to my home.

Walking back to the car we spotted this brave man wearing tights, so I had to get a photo. He was giving tours of the tower... just one Euro. Another time I'll do that... Tongeren will be a quarterly trip for me... I love it!

It's sad, really, how fast time goes by. Just next to the base is a lovely forest that almost entirely surrounds the base and spreads into nearby villages. It's full of maples and oaks, birches and evergreens, and all sorts of mosses and wildflowers. When I first walked through it I thought that I might go there every week just to take a walk and enjoy the beauty of it. Sadly, after living here almost a year, I've only been there 4 times.

But, on this day, needing to get out and not feeling like a full-day excursion, I took the girls on a nature hunt through the woods. Each was equipped with a bucket or bag with the stipulation that they could only collect what would fit in said bucket or bag. We collected birch bark, pinecones, acorns, leaves, and many flowers and plant leaves to press. The girls saw all sorts of beautiful mushrooms and saw the tunnels that the bugs built inside a decaying log. We talked about birds and dragonflies and spiders. It was wonderful and they got excited looking for natures little treasures.

Arianna picked all those puffy seeded dandelion heads, made her wishes and blew. Luci picked grass and found a very nice stick in the shape of an L. Elise toddled along, happy to be there, but not yet caught up in the spirit of collecting, and Tiara, unenthused at first, ended up having a wonderful time finding pretty little things to get crafty with later.


The highlight came at the very end when Tiara let out a scream worthy of even the scariest horror film and ran 6 feet from where she's been walking before. She pointed to the place where that terrifying beast sat lurking, and there, peacefully sunning himself on the path, was the sweetest honey-colored baby salamander that I've ever seen. The little girls were quiet and still, mesmorized by the little guy. I picked him up and let him walk around on my hand before letting him go.

When we got home the girls got shoeboxes and sorted their treasures between woody things and the fresh things. All the fresh flowers and leaves were pressed in my old medical dictionary and all the pinecones and other woody things were put in their boxes for a craft day to come. Then we went outside and collected some leaves from our yard to do rubbings. I put my little nature collection into a nice old flowerpot that I wasn't using and it looks very nice.

Sometimes the simple things are best.

... because I'm never in it.

I knew as the kids grew that I would get progressively busier. I knew that this year with Arianna in school would be a little more chaotic. But, I also thought that having two kids in school full days and only one at home with me in the morning each day, that may be I would have a little more time. No. May be I'm overcompensating by filling my time. May be I've volunteered just a little. But, somehow, the days are absolutely filling up to the point where weeks like this I am literally never home. Sometimes I'll run home for 30 minutes to grab something and run out again, but most mornings now I have something going on while Luci is in school. And 4/5 afternoons we have dance after school. That one day I try to keep free, but that will end when we start swimming. Weeks like this make me long for winter when it's too cold outside to go anywhere - those nice cozy days of hot tea and cocoa when I'm forced to stay inside and work on my own projects.

The good thing is that all the activity is good, healthy, and productive with no major quirks.

Yearbook is going great. For may be forever, there has been one person doing the yearbook, cut and pasted, by herself. This year myself and two friends have found an online program where EVERYTHING can be done digitally (quicker and with less mess), AND we've decided to have a staff of students to do it, meaning a learning opportunity for them and less work for us. The yearbook with be better than ever because it will be created by students for students and will reflect their personalities a lot more. No clipart allowed. Only student submissions of art and prose will enter the book. I'm so excited to be a part of this. It will be wonderful and my own sweet Tiara will be on the staff. She's thrilled!

Kirk was gone this week in Denmark where he got a nasty cold. In spite of that he got some flying in which is always good and he fell in love with Denmark. It was quite unexpected, but now he's excited to plan a trip up there for all of us. He said it is an absolutely beautiful country. He also fell in love with saunas since that is how he got over his cold so quickly. He had a sauna in his hotel room. They are standard there and apparently are great for just about everything that ales you and can help you lose weight as well, so that is now on his wish list and he's desperately trying to figure out just how to get a Canadian sauna over to Germany.

Denmark doesn't use the Euro. They have beautiful Danish Kroners with fleur de lis and hearts on them. Many coins have holes in the centers like old Chinese money. He brought some back. I think I'll try to make a bracelet from them. They really are beautiful.

Kirk said that he knows now why we have to separate our trash here with such care. Denmark buys German trash. Odd, I know, but it's true. Denmark has power plants that use various "trash items" to burn for fuel and they are the sole buyer for Germany's trash. I guess that's better than burying it!










The chestnuts are literally raining off the trees here. On and around Tiara's school are several HUGE chestnut trees that apparently have really tasty nuts. The Spanish and Italian ladies pick them up to cook with them. The burrs are croquet ball sized and covered in amazingly sharp spines that hurt tremendously if you even slightly tough it. Inside each burr are three beautiful chestnuts. The color is so perfect. I would love to bottle it somehow. It is the perfect color for wood... that deep reddish brown. As they ripen they fall, sometimes with the burr and sometimes on their own as the burrs open on the tree. Standing under the tree is dangerous. More than once I've been pelted by falling nuts. If the faintest of winds happens by, you're done for. Those chestnuts can hurt, especially within the spiny burrs. I collected roughly 200 of them one afternoon while the kids played at the playground. It was amazing. A friend collected some for herself at the same time. We'd clear out an area and then minutes later there would be more covering the ground. They are beautiful and I'd hoped to preserve them. Unfortunately, I've found that they are a nut that you can't preserve. The shell is thin and a bit leathery covering the meat inside like a glove. If left, even well aired, they mold with the moisture from the meat. So, mine will be a temporary decoration. Already they're too old to roast, so I'll get some nice photos and that will be that. May be I'll cook some up next year.

On Wednesday I spent my morning in Tiara's class grading notebooks, filing, and binding books the kids wrote. It was interesting to see the vast differences in the kids styles as far as neatness and organization were concerned. The kids had earned a party and left to go play capture the flag, so when I was done with my work I went out to get some pictures for the yearbook. When I got there Tiara was sitting on the picnic table with her leg up and a tiny wet folded paper towel on her shin. She was sitting stoically telling the teacher she was fine. She'd been running and tripped, then fell and hit her shin on the bench. Mrs. Vasko-Kingma wanted to know if she should call for a car or not, so I helped Tiara up to see if she could walk with help. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears and she bit her lip to stop from crying.

So, the car came with the school nurse who told us to go to the emergency room downtown. Since the U.S. clinic was 2 minutes away, we went there instead, saw the doctor, got an x-ray, and found out that she was fine. By that time the swelling that had put pressure on her tendon and hadn't allowed her foot to move much had gone down and she was a little better. The crutches the doctor had given her helped though. By the evening, Tiara was back to normal except for the large green goose-egg on her right shin.

The photo on the left is of Tiara and her friend, Aislann. Aislann fell the week before in kickball and broke her wrist. Another boy fell that same week and broke his leg. I don't think the teacher can take anymore. She was really worried about Tiara.

My most favorite part of the morning is when I get to creep into the girl's room, open up their curtains, and slowly cuddle them awake. They are so sweet when they sleep. It almost makes up for all the noise they make when they're awake. Both Arianna and Luci moan, pull their blankets up over themselves and roll over when it's time to get up. Elise, most days, wakes up with a smile on her face and immediately launches into a game of peek-a-boo with her blanket. This is Luci with her "funny blanket" trying to ignore the morning's light.

Octoberfest pretty much insinuates that it might take place in October, and I think in "real Germany" that it does. Munich is supposed to be where the biggest parties are.
Here the NATO base, probably trying not to interfere with people's potential travel plans to attend the real Octoberfest parties, schedules theirs for September. It was two days long. The crazy "drink until you drop and dance to German folk music until the sun rises the next morning" day was Saturday, but we already had plans to attend the Flamenco party and I really preferred that type of outing anyway, so we didn't go then. Sunday was family day which is a little more my speed, so we went to that in the afternoon after a slow relaxing morning at home.
It was held in a hanger by the flightline. Although a certain amount of atmosphere is lost when an event is held in an ugly army green hanger, I've grown accustomed to events like this. In the center was a small dance floor and a stage. The perifery was lined with all the activities and inbetween were row after row of picnic tables.

We bought tokens since the venders did not take real money. The kids immediately found their corner where they played most of the time. There was an inflatable jumping thing, face painting, lots of little games, and a large area with very interesting moving "toys." Some were like scooters or low-ride bicycles, but most were the pedals without the rest of the contraption. Just pedals like on a piano mounted on large wheels. You stand on them and work your feet back and forth and it pushes along. Tiara got pretty good at it by the end, but it was harder than it looked taking quite a bit of strength and a lot of balance.

While the kids played, Kirk and I walked around. There were two big beer/beverage tents - the busiest areas of the place - one carnival style game giving away traditionally tacky oversized stuffed critters of all kinds, a wonderful candy booth selling hot candy roasted nuts. We bought a baggy of almonds, but they were consumed so quickly we had to go buy some more. The candy booths are at all German events I've been to so far and there will be several at all the Christmas markets. They always have the hot candied nuts and all things gummy, licorice, chocolates, and the large frosted lebkuchen hearts that hang from above. The food was traditional... bratwurst in brotchen, hex (a large chunk of pork on a bone), a half roasted chicken, etc. They also had big radishes that people were eating raw like an apple. Towards the end of our time when the booths begun to pack up, we got some food to go.

The German band were dressed for the party. Most wore lederhosen. Some wore wigs and aprons. They all looked very silly, but were having a great time. They played around the picnic tables standing on them with their instruments and interacting with the crowd. It was fun to watch the people all enjoying themselves and having a genuinely good time.
The rest of the time was spent socializing. There weren't a lot of Americans there, but almost all of the Spanish attended, so I talked to my friends there. There's a little girl in Arianna's class at school that is an American, but she doesn't speak any English yet, but Arianna really likes her and wanted to talk to her. She asked me how to say a few phrases and then she practiced them, and in Spanish, went to ask Katerina if she's dance with her. It was very sweet. Katerina had a big smile on her face and the two girls danced together for a while. Kirk danced with Luci and Elise for a while too.

This last week at Tiara's ballet school was International Dance Week where all regular classes were cancelled and for only 14Euros per class, the kids had the opportunity to take ballet, jazz, tap, and flamenco with world class dancers. Tiara took three 90 minute classes with Stephanie Saland. It was an amazing opportunity for her. I had expected the dancers to be, well, a bit artsy and aloof. Instead, they were all very warm and fun to talk to. I think they were surprised to fly to The Netherlands to teach at a Dutch dance school for a week and run into an American. Stephanie was particularly animated talking about Seattle where she lives now and I once lived in college. She is beautiful and holds herself with quiet elegance. Tiara was a little uneasy at first with a teacher that "touches more," but quickly got used to that and learned a lot with Stephanie. By Friday Tiara had relaxed significantly and was smiling in class. At the end of the week she told me that she just really enjoyed being taught in English again. While Tiara danced with Stephanie, I talked with Kay Anderson, the modern Fred Astaire, and an absolutely amazing tap dancer who lives in Utah now, and Ricardo Cossio, a jazz dancer from Mexico City who only speaks Spanish. Both were very friendly. All the dancers want to come back next year and I really do hope that Zaira does the International week again. Next year I might even take a class.

To cap off a great week and celebrate Zaira's 5th year of her new school, Zaira had a big party at Tapas in Sittard where Lolo Raul (a Latino Dutch flamenco dancer living in Germany) performed some beautiful flamenco dances for everybody.

Tapas is a great Spanish Tapas (little appetizers) restaurant in the markt in Sittard. The night was perfect. The weather was not cold nor warm, but that perfect summer night with just enough breeze to keep the air alive. It was almost dark at 8 when we arrived, but the market was full of people sitting at the tables that spilled out from the restaurants all along the edge. The church tower was illuminated from below with lights and the moon shone behind it. Tapas was the busiest restaurant there and it wasn't just our party. We were given tokens for drinks there to use throughout the night and the waitresses came through all evening carrying trays of chicken skewars, bruschetta, olives, and other Spanish tidbits. It was all delicious. Lolo danced first, then throughout the night other flamenco dancers took the floor in groups to perform. There was not a sleepy person there. The colors, music, and dancing were all invigorating and so full of life, it was impossible to think about how late it was.

We ended up meeting a very nice couple that night. The wife is Dutch, but her husband is Canadian. They met over the internet. He misses Cheerios, so I have his email, so I can get a box to him. They don't sell Cheerios in the Netherlands. It's the little things that we all miss.

30 Aug 06 -- The last of the wheat has been harvested with only a few small patches of miscolored wheat remaining. Last week I drove to Schinnen as the final bales were loaded up and carried off. Now I see the potato harvesters sitting in the middle of muddy fields with kids sorting through them as they come up the conveyer belt and spill into the big bin. And the corn should be next. I'm waiting to see it in the market. I've heard that corn is only grown for the livestock here which would be sad. There are fields of it everywhere. Makes me want to grill.
Fields where wheat once grew are now growing something green. It's amazing how quickly the ground can turn up something new. I guess I shoudn't be amazed. The weeds in my garden once had a contest to see which could reach the top of the fence the fastest and it ended in an all-around tie. In my limited agricultural experience, weeds have been the only thing to grow quickly and reliably, but here, it seems these farmer folks know a thing or two and literally overnight it seems a plot of earth will go from a rich chocolatey brown to an almost chartreuse green.

So, there is no trace of the bright yellow flowers that grew here in May nor of the wheat that seemed to be everywhere. The corn is even disappearing now, to my dismay, without even the slightest trace except may be a few more fattened pigs somewhere around here. We were surrounded everywhere we drove by fields upon fields of bright beautiful corn. Now, one by one, the corn is disappearing leaving only stubby 2" stalks behind. Big trucks haul off the remains, completely chopped up into bits, stalks, leaves, corn, and all, to be fed to the livestock around here. There is no corn in the market or the grocery stores. Germans don't eat corn. They think it's bizaare that we do. Corn is pig food.

International Women dinners have started up again. The first night was hosted by Germany and the Netherlands. It started out fairly mellow - no crazy costumes, no noisy music - just a simple night. Lori Bozzi set up her treasures from all over Italy and India - beautiful jewlery, shoes, and purses. The turn-out was fantastic - way more than was expected that first night. I was especially proud that I was able to encourage the Spanish to mix a bit more. They ended up sitting right in the middle of the American crowd and we had a very nice French woman sitting with us also. She explained to me, ironically enough, how to make really good french fries, though they are a Belgian specialty.
For dinner, they served currywurst and pommes frites. While that meal is typical for carnival and street fairs, it is truly German fast food, so I was a little disappointed. They are capable of so much more, but, we they only have a certain amount of money to spend on food and they have to rely on the abilities of the Frisbee Club cooks, so, may it was for the best. It's hard to ruin currywurst. For dessert they served an apple kuchen from Germany and a rice cake from The Netherlands. Both were good, but I won't go begging for the recipes.
The real "joy" of the night came between dinner and dessert when they played "games." I was a participant in a traditional German wedding game (so I was told - though I can't imagine a bride putting herself through this). I went to the front of the room and sat down at a table there. The ladies put a poncho of sorts over me with holes on the sides and holes at the bottom. The poncho was "embellished" with a rather large stuffed brasierre up top and a little black lace thong towards the bottom. That, is where my hands went, through the holes on the bottom and into my shoes on the table so that I looked like a very tiny person in that chair. My Italian friend stood behind me stooped down so that noone could see her and she became my arms feeding me pickles and green olives, then really nasty vanilla pudding, then a very large chocolate covered marshmellow. That was a particular joy. The sweet old German lady beside me kept instructing, "a little on the nose, a little on the nose." So, I got marshmellow smeared over half my face. Then came the teeth brushing and the grand finale, dark burgundy lipstick. Ah... I was a beauty. Then the tables were turned and I was next to be her arms and hear the instructions, "a little on the nose, oh, yes, that looks good."

I went and sat at the German table afterwards because one of them had taken pictures and I wanted to see just how horrific I looked. She thought I looked cute. Not. I casually commented, "...and people think that German's don't have a sense of humor..." Looks of shock came from my friends there. Germans? No sense of humor? They were honestly surprised that they would have such a stoic reputation. Though, from experience now, it is unfounded. Germans have quirky humor, but it is definitely there. I think they just know how to work hard when it's time and play hard later.
The photos are all of bellydancing. The first two of the Germans and the last two of the Turks. After the game a troupe of German dancers came out all with brass canes and traditional belly dancing costume. After several tries the music cued to the correct place and the dancing began. I sat with the Dutch who helped out with the night asking if belly dancing had anything to do with German or Dutch culture. The looks on their faces said it all. No. The Germans were in charge of entertainment and my Dutch friends were just as puzzled as I was.

Last year the Germans put on a very nice Carnival party, but when it was time for entertainment we got a Whoopi Goldburg "Sister Act" skit and some dancing with cowboys and Indians. This year they entertained us with belly dancing.

Though there are no rules on what a country must do, the countries generally put on their night with food and entertainment that reflects/teaches something about their culture. Though there is a German culture here that is special and unique, that is not something that is displayed. It seems that they are trying to be as international as possible and I believe that has a lot to do with the past 60 years history. The country has not healed yet and nationalism is kept very quiet so that it isn't mistaken for something else.