|
Easter Break |
Strasbourg |
|
Belgium |
|
Revisit and Rest |
|
Under the Chunnel!!!
|
Strasbourg
It was the Tuesday after the last day of class. Spring or Easter Break had finally started here at Clermont-Ferrand and I had a busy schedule ahead of me. I had taken a couple of days to rest before heading out, but it was the day of my first departure, and that morning I had a train to catch around six o’clock.
Somehow I made it to the station and found a nice place to sit down. I actually like sitting with others, but as I always claim to be shy, I prefer being the first to seat down rather than approaching a total stranger, but maybe that’s just me. I slept a good bit between Clermont and Lyon. Yes, Lyon, the capital of France during the time of the Roman Empire. It was pretty what I saw of it from the train around eight in the morning, but it wasn’t my final destination.
Changing trains, I soon found myself enjoying more wonderful sleep and reading time.
As I started heading north and still somewhat east, the land began to flatted out and started to remind me much more of eastern Oklahoma. Everything also was a lot green. Some hours later I found myself again entering another larger city, one that was French but bares a German name: Strasbourg!
It was at here that I met up with a former Sooner, Florence. (She had studied there for a year at least on an exchange program.) We headed quickly into the country to her small village, which also possesses a German name, but one that is thankfully easy to say in English: Westhouse. Her family lived there. Even though they are in a small village, her parents both have good jobs at a bank. Her uncle though does have a farm on the which her dad milks the cows in the evening-with a machine of course. It was a nice town and did not lack a bit of charm. She also took me to a slightly larger hill from which we could see a lot of the surrounding countryside. Though I could see it from our vantage point, just over one of the distant hills was the Black Forest in which the American forces were hard pressed to counter the Nazi due to its density. (I know this of course from watching the History Channel. Thanks Kerwin!)
That evening there was a special party at Florence and Vincent’s (her brother) former babysitters. Maybe these two words mean something to some of you: tarte flamb?#060;/I>. For those of you who don’t know about them, they are excellent! They are like a pizza but with a cheese sauce for the tomato sauce and with onions and bacon! I had missed bacon a little as it is harder to find in France. While they were at it, they also made some regular pizzas, but I preferred the tartes flambés.
After getting to sleep in the next day, Florence drove me back to Strasbourg, and after a short visit to her apartment, we took a boat tour from which we saw the European Union building. (I don't remember if it was the Parliament or what exactly but it was cool.) Next we climbed the cathèdrale (300+ steps) and we had a great walk-about in the city before stopping to eat some sauerkraut. Next, we rested for a while at Florence's before she took me to see her university, which looked a lot more like an American one than mine at Clermont does, and finally had dinner at a Thai friend's house. All in all it was a really quick trip, but full of fun and adventure.
Belgium
I was on the train again the next morning. Passing by the Grand-Duchy of Luxembourg, I entered the Kingdom of Belgium for the second (see Chapter 4). Belgium is bilingual, and
while the capital, Brussels (or Bruxelles the French spelling), is found on the Flemish side, it too is bilingual. Once there, I took another smaller train to another station just to the south of the linguistic line where I met Pasteur Blair Bonin. I had somewhat met him in Los Angeles during the 2000 WOLRD SALT Conference for Chi Alpha. He and his wife Dina are from Louisiana and serve in French Belgium in a ministry something like Chi Alpha, called Students for Christ (SfC). Would you also believe that they have five kids? Callie, Claire, Evangeline, Christopher, and David. They also have another friend Bonnie who is from Louisiana and who works with them. It was great to get to hang out with everyone, to play tag a little in the back yard, and, always a favorite, to carry the kids around on my shoulders.
Amongst the first things that I did in taking in the Belgium culture was to eat some Belgian fries (a cross between English chips and French fries). I also really enjoyed learning some of the nuances between French-French and Belgian-French, but I don't want to make fun of anyone on my web page.
That first day with Blair and Bonnie, I got to go to the weekly Students for Christ meeting. Even though it was the second week of their Easter Break there was quite a number of them there. I had already met one of them. (Sed, in Los Angeles and several others at a conference of l'Action Evangélique en Universit?#060;/I> [l'AEU, a French version for Chi Alpha]). I was cool and I got to share about the cool things that God was doing in my life, in French of course!
The next day, between playing with the kids, eating Dina's wonderful Cajun cooking, we all went to Brussels to see the Museum of Art and History, and the day after, Bonnie, Sed, and I wonder around the street of Brussels together. Honestly there was a lot to see and that I am not going to try to tell all of it now, but try looking at the pictures to get an idea of the sites I saw.
Sunday came around, and I went with the family to a French-speaking church. I was good of course, and I got to see some of the SfC group again too as some of them go to the same church as the Bonin. It was all together an excellent experience and I hope that I will get to visit again eventually.
Revisit and Rest
Following my stay with the Bonins, I spent a little bit of time doing nothing much at some friends houses. First off, I got to visit Holly’s family again in Den Haag (see Ch. 4). Holly of course was in the US this time, but it was good to get to see everyone a little bit even if they were all pretty busy. (It was almost test time for Victor and Ibukun.)
I went to the Olowus on Monday, and on Thursday, I reentered France and went to Paris to see the Potellerets (see Ch. 1). I had been six month since I had seen them, so I had a lot to tell them about. They even didn’t know that I had gone to Poland. Arnold had grown a good bit but wasn’t speaking yet. He of course was still speaking baby talk, which I found so cool that it sounds the same even when one finds himself half-way around the world.
Under the Chunnel!!!
It was Friday, and I had another early morning train to catch. I caught the RER from Houilles and from there made my way to the Gare du Nord. It was there that I took the Euro Star and headed under the English Channel. (Sometimes they say "taking the chunnel" as you are going under the Channel via a tunnel.) Even though it is a member of the European Union, the U.K. still has more security protecting it borders from immigrants. I had to show my passport to both French and British officers, and as I wasn't ready with a passport out, the French cops laughed at me when I tried to get through with my Oklahoma Driver's License. At any rate, I was soon on a nice train again, sleeping, eating, reading, and praying. The time passed quickly as it usually does for me on voyages, especially when I am able to sleep. The train dove into the earth, only to emerge maybe twenty-one kilometers later in England.
It was pretty cool to finally get to see the homeland of my family name. As some of you know, I, like many Americans, have ancestors from a lot of different countries, but my family name comes from England. (In fact, my distant relatives even know our family's roots back quite a ways. My great uncle Robert, for example, was a buccaneer for the Queen herself and captured gold from the Spanish gallons, but that is another cool story.)
London eventually came into view, and we arrived soon at Waterloo Station. So what was the first thing that I did? I went to see my travel agency. As you know from the last chapter, I had had trouble with the first ticket that I bought to London, as I was sick the week that I should have went, but this was something entirely different. The travel company through which I had purchased my ticket between the US and France had went bankrupt, and I had received an email explaining that I would have to talk to this other company to try to fix things through them. Well, to make a long story incredibly short, my ticket turned out to be good, and my mom had them change it in the US so that I am now returning to the US the 21st of July. Thought that you might want to know that.
After contacting the travel agency, the next thing that I did was that I went to Chelsea! My hometown in Oklahoma is in fact named after Chelsea, London (see My Home Ttown), and so I had to go there and visit. Though I will let the pictures do most of the talking, I will say that I was also able to see the National Military Museum and a Starbucks! (Eight months without a frappichino ended that day!)
That evening, after having walked pass Bucking Ham Palace, I called my friend Paul and took off for his house in Hatfield, located just to the north on London. He is another friend that I had made during the WORLD SALT and after not getting to see him for a year and three months, it was pretty cool to get to see him at the Hatfield train station. Paul was also with him, and to avoid further confusion, I had also met another English man in Los Angles who is also named Paul. They were housemates, and so they both showed my around Hatfield and the surrounding communities. We did a lot of different things like going to the fair, visiting an old, nearby church, and even eating cottage pie. (Note: It is not what we consider a pie in America.) I also had a little trouble trying to translate some of what I was saying to my British friends. Once I accidentally said that I needed to go to the restroom and had to translate it to "toilette" before my friend got to laugh at me too much. Working in the English lab back in Clermont had prepared me for some of the British dialect, but I still could never find the translation for American pudding. In British English nearly every baked good is considered pudding. That Sunday, I went to church with them. I was really good and the pastor didn't even make too much fun of Americans. (He had asked if there were any Americans there, but it just happened that I was able to understand his accent when he said it so he was aware of my presence.) That evening, we also went to a Christian University meeting. The first Students for Christ group had been started there in Hatfield about a year ago, and God was doing some awesome things there and through another Christian group, which had merged with it. It was SO refreshing, and I got to praise Jesus with such wonderful songs in English that I hadn't heard in so long living in France. Monday morning; it was time to go back under the chunnel. As we didn't get around in time, I actually missed my train to London, but with God's Grace I still made it to Waterloo station with ten minutes to spare... As a whole, I can say that that whole trip was wonderful and actually more restful than tiring. It was also very refreshing and a great blessing to me. Thank you Jesus...