We hadn’t been back to Memphis since August 2009, when we moved to Schaarbeek. So you can imagine we were pretty thrilled when our plane touched down in Memphis on December 15th, after what seemed like an endless flight. Miles got very excited when he saw his nana and GDad at the gate. It was a very warm welcome; it had been since our trip to France since we last saw them. We spent the next couple of days at the house in Collierville, spending quality time and getting over the jet lag. Nana and GDad took us places. We went to the Sunday school Christmas party at Mike and Sherrin’s house, to the awesome Memphis Children’s museum, and to an intimite Bluegrass concert at the church. By the end of the gig the lead singer referred to Wiet as ‘Brother Belgium’, that’s how intimite it got. We went to the Starry Nights event in Shelby Farms – a display of Chrismtas lights throughout the park – and to the Enchanted Forest in the Pink Palace. Maybe the magic was lost on Miles a bit, but we sure enjoyed it.

We visited grandma a couple of times. She looks frail and is not very coherent, but she hasn’t lost her humor. Then Bethany came home from Saint Louis and a day later Amy arrived from Jefferson City. Sissy and Sassy – the dogs – had trouble adapting to a full house again, especially since there was a toddler now chasing them through what was once their undisputed and tranquil realm. On Christmas eve we were invited to Angela’s. Everybody was there: Angela, Mike, Carter, Joyce, Eddie, Houston, Tess, James and Cathy. It was an overwhelmingly warm welcome again. Miles got showered with Thomas the tank engine gifts.

We also got to see our friends again: Wendy and Kern, and Wiet’s colleagues at Hord Architects. We got to meet Bethany’s boyfriend, Trevor. Felt as if we have known him for years. We went back to our old apartment and showed Miles where he was born. A middle aged man came to the door and was kind enough to invite us in. Our old apartment is clearly in good hands.

And then suddenly two weeks had gone by and we had to leave again. Some things have changed. Some for the good, some not. Wendy and Kern have a cheerful baby boy Braxton. Two of Wiet’s colleagues have left Hord Architects. Grandma no longer lives with nana and gdad, but in a nice retirement home. But our friends and family are still there, and are doing well, and that’s the important part. Over two years without visiting Memphis is way too long. We’ll try to keep that from happening again.

I hope 2012 feels to you like waking up

to the smell of coffee

on a sunny morning,

rested,

energised,

a dream still vaguely lingering,

that gives you an idea,

that can’t wait to take form.

Happy New Year.

Since December 6th, after almost two years of bickering, Belgium has a fully operational government again. We now hold the sorry world record for having the longest government formation in history. Iraq held the record with its shaky coalition after 289 days of negotiations, and we “improved” that record to a whopping 541 days.

 The Elections of 2010 for a new federal government came after the last coalition had fallen over a conflict between the Dutch speaking and the French speaking sides. The elections were won by the socialists on the French side and by the nationalists on the Dutch side, the NVA. Belgium holds a fair number of different political parties, but these two are particularly not fond of one another. So the two parties, who had been lambasting each other during their respective campaigns, started negotiations to form a coalition. They focused their attention on constitutional reform first. Since that requires a two thirds majority in Parliament, the negotiations were done between the two winning parties and five more parties. Not surprisingly, it didn’t go well. The king appointed a guy from one side to lead the negotiations, and his proposals were met with a strong ‘never!’ after which the king appointed a guy from the other side whose proposals were equally unwelcome.

This went on for a while until somebody got the idea of adding two more political parties to the negotiations. One of these, the MR, was a coalition of smaller parties among which the FDF, the French nationalists, basically the opposite of the NVA on the language spectrum. No one was surprised to see the little goodwill there was further evaporate, until the NVA finally left the negotiations. Not much longer the FDF left the table, thereby removing both extremes. It was like fresh air to the negotiators: suddenly they closed one deal after another. About time too: the coalition of running affairs had stretched its authority to the limit, the EU demanded a 2012 budget approved by the new Parliament, and the markets were getting twitchy. Trhoughout the process of negotiations, the scenario of a split of the country had surfaced and resurfaced regularly. Finally, on December 6th the new coalition took the oath and was given the confidence by Parliament a couple of days later. The coalition agreement holds fundamental constitutional reforms with more autonomy for the regions, and painful austerity measures. But the work is only starting: now the agreement needs to be translated into laws and acts in Parliament, where it faces opposition by several parties who participated in the talks at some point. If the dissolving coalition and the ensuiing sectarian violence of former record holder Iraq is any reference, we are not out of the woods yet.

Nevertheless: most everybody is happy about the end of the political instability. The new prime minister has added a lot of first’s to his title: the first French speaking PM in a while, the first openly gay politician on this level and the first prime minister with foreign roots – he comes from a poor Italian family. Taking 541 days to form a coalition might be something not to be proud of, but history is packed with examples where negotiators left the table only to pick up arms. In Belgium people just celebrated the new record with a bag of fries…

On December 13th, Kirsten defended her phd at the KUL University in Leuven. The title of her phd is “Revisiting Dynamics and Values of Open Space, the case of Flanders” and introduces a new appeciation of open space in spatial planning. So Kirsten’s family, Jasper’s family and her friends and colleagues came to the auditorium in Heverlee for mental support. After she presented the main results of her research she then got grilled by a jury of experts, including Wiet’s boss. Spatial planning in Flanders, it’s a small world indeed.

Kirsten gave an overview of an impressive body of research she has accumulated over the past couple of years. She was able to respond to most of the hard questions of the experts, and received a lot of praise from them. Then came the laudatio, a speech by her promotor. He surprised her with a lengthy, in-depth and personal appreciation, not only of her work but also of her person. He ended by referring to the designs Kirsten made for T-shirt prints, stating that she left an imprint on many people around her. He then advised her to look around her, and at that time we – the audience – all took off our coats and sweaters. We were all wearing the zebra T-shirt she designed. Hope she got a little kick out of it.

Congratulations, dr. Kirsten!

One night late November I went to see the movie Tintin. Still chuckling about one of the many jokes, I came out of the movie theatre to find an empty spot where I had left my bike. I walked up and down the street but that was obviously a waste of time. The next day I went to the police but that seemed a waste of time just as much. I got a document with a brief description of my bike, a  Specialized Sequoia, stating that it was stolen. Any attempts at adding information was said to be irrelevant, and all of my questions were answered with: “I don’t know, Sir.” Getting it engraved had been on my to do list for a while; I can kick myself for not getting around to it. Now I keep my eyes peeled for it in the streets. I went to the second hand bike market at Brussels South station, and I checked ebay, kapaza etc. to see if someone is trying to sell my bike. But no success. Anybody who has information about it is welcome to leave a comment…

I loved that bike. I bought it in Memphis in 2008 and shipped it to Belgium. Aluminum frame, carbon fork, integrated gears, ergonometric frame, it had it all. It was my companion on the streets of Memphis and Brussels, my partner in crime. The two of us together against all the cars. Both Memphis and Brussels have a reputation for being bike-unfriendly cities, and in such a situation you depend on your bike. In any maneuver, you calculate the risk and assume your foot won’t slide off the pedal or something. My sequoia never let me down. He was there for me where the rubber meets the road. Goodbye, faithful bike.

But the worsgt of it is that from now on I will always associate Tintin with stolen bikes…

Today (November 7th) was Miles’s first official day at school. He is attending the Holy Family School in his neighbourhood. It’s a small Catholic school that offers day care, pre-school and elementary school. Miles was originally assigned to a different school, but recently his parents were informed there was a spot vacant at the Holy Family school which they liked better so they immediately got him registered.

This morning the three of them went to school. It They entered the playground and the director welcomed Wiet and Heather with a cup of coffee and a brochure while Miles got a cookie. Miles went to his class with his fellow students. It was almost impossible to get a good picture of Miles amidst all that activity.  There were 13 kids present and three teachers plus lots of parents. Miles is in  a “starters” class for all kids who are at least 2 and a half, so the number of kids will increase throughout the year as more kids reach that minimum age. Today, because it was the first day for several new classmates, all the parents of the new kids were allowed to stay for the first half hour. When Heather and Wiet eventually left the classroom Miles didn’t mind – the “tryout days” of two weeks ago clearly helped. It seemed as if saying goodbye was harder on his parents than on Miles.

At 4 pm Wiet rushed out of his office to go pick up Miles. School is finished at 3:15 pm but many kids including Miles stay in the after school day care.  Wiet was afraid to find his child in tears, totally exhausted, but when he entered the gym where all the kids were playing Miles was not in any hurry to leave.  It was slightly disappointing for Wiet to realize he was not as indispensable as he thought… But maybe that’s a good thing.

Four years ago we got married. Ever since then our lives seem to be in perpetual motion: jobs changed, continents changed, number of dependents changed, etc. So much change in such a short time span cannot but come with the necessary challenges. Nevertheless, we agree: getting married was a good idea. No regrets, on the contrary.
To celebrate this we went for dinner in the Atomium. The Atomium is to Belgians what the Eiffel Tower is to the French: a national icon devoted to progress. This building was originally designed as a temporary pavillon for the 1958 World Exhibition in Brussels. It’s an enlarged copy of an iron molecule, supposed to herald the nuclear age. The atomium was not demolished together with the rest of the exhibition and, together with the enthusiasm for the nuclear age, the glamour of the building dwindled in the decades that followed. But a couple of years ago the building got a facelift and reopened just in time for the 50th anniversary of the World Exhibition in 2008. Even though the blinking lights give it a slightly kwirky image, the reopening of the building attracted record numbers of visitors and even a modest surge in national pride – something the Belgians have been lacking in the past couple of years. A restaurant opened in the top ball – excuse me: top atom – and we had a succulent dinner there with a magnificent view over the city lights.
During dinner we thought of something we forgot to mention during our wedding speech four years ago. Looking at Miles we are sometimes overwhelmed by the thought that we must set a good example for him. We can see all around us that it’s not easy.  So many couples struggle to stay together – many get divorced. We realized that we are exceptionally lucky to both have parents that have provided such good examples of good relationships.  Both Wiet’s as well as Heather’s parents are still together and are examples of a love very much alive. Our fourth wedding anniversary reminded us how privileged we are. Moms, Dads, thanks for the best wedding gifts of all: your own strong marriages.

The immediate reason for our trip to Lebanon was to go to the wedding of our friends Lyne and Ismae’l, Miles’s godfather. Because of a misunderstanding we arrived later than anticipated.  Ismae’l came to pick us up at 2 am in the morning on the day of his wedding and drove us to his parents’ house in Saida. In the morning the men – Ismae’l, his father, his brothers and his friends – went to the hamam for a ceremonial scrubdown. Unfortunately Wiet was still asleep at that time.

The actual wedding ceremonyhad already taken place with family and a few friends the day before. The party would be held in the garden of Ismae’l's parents house. So we joined many of the other guests who were staying at the house in getting everything ready in the garden.

In the evening Heather left with a small group for Beirut to fetch the bride. As soon as they arrived at Lyne’s parents apartment, a traditional band started drumming up a vibe. The door opened and out came Lyne in her wedding gown, dancing. She danced her way into the street, and everybody drove back to Saida.

Meanwhile guests were arriving in Saida. After the darkness had set in, you could hear the drums in the street. The guests lined up at the gate and the drums grew louder. In came Ismae’l and Lyne, dancing their way into they garden while hundreds of wedding guests cheered them on. As they danced they were joined by friends and family: now his brother would dance with them, then her father would, etc. The whole group danced its way along the garden path to the terrace/dancefloor, and stayed there. The crowd raised the couple on a chair into the air. The high-energy entrance really kickstarted the party, and all of that without a drop of alcohol.

After a while people got hungry enough to leave the dancefloor and move to the buffet. The food was amazing: lots of different things we had never seen before but all of it was delicious. On a lesser note, at the end of the evening Miles had trouble going to bed and this caused Wiet to miss the dessert. (It will remain unforgiven.)  We sat down with other guests from Belgium, Jordan, etc. Ismae’l and Lyne were so busy trying to talk to and/or dance with all of the 350 guests that they forgot to eat themselves. How they kept from collapsing is a mystery. We gave them a sculptural poppy for in their garden as a wedding gift.

Miles was perfectly content playing with the gravel on the garden paths. Unfortunately he insisted on playing exactly in the spot where the waiters had to pass with trays full of drinks. But lots of people were charmed by him and kept him busy playing. When they started to shoot off fireworks he got scared so we tried to put him to sleep. But he was not used to the place, and the music from the dancefloor was very loud. So we got him out of bed and we danced with him in his pyjamas.  Eventually we got Miles to go to sleep and Heather and Wiet danced the night away.

After their wedding Lyne and Ismae’l spent a couple of days with us in Tyre, and then went on their honeymoon to Egypt. Godspeed, Lyne and Ismae’l! May your garden blossom.

Not your average holiday destination, indeed. And that’s a pity, because Lebanon is a truly beatiful country with very hospitable people. This tiny country is so packed with must see sites that even after 10 days of crisscrossing its territory we still have plenty of things we missed.

The landscapes as well as the people are very diverse. You can ski in the Mount Lebanon range in the morning and lie on the Mediterranean beach in the afternoon. Lebanon has as many as 18 official denominations, and the constitution guarantees power sharing between Christians and Muslims.

Those 18 denominations don’t always agree, however, and the fact that Lebanon shares a border with Israel doesn’t help. The signs of a recent past drenched in war are still painfully clear. The army checkpoints are everywhere, some of them lined with heavy artillery. In the south we saw a lot of UNIFIL blue helmets. Downtown Beirut has largely been rebuilt and looks even glitzy. But in the back alleys you still find the facades peppered with bullet holes. In the south and in the Bekaa valley the Hezbollah propaganda is everywhere. The Mleeta Resistance Tourist Landmark is particularly telling: it’s a surreal jihadist Disneyland.

The people of Lebanon have a long history of war that continues today. In Tyre we stayed at the Lighthouse Hotel, and we met the lighthouse keeper. This weathered old man told us a story about a Lybian arms shipment arriving in the Tyre port. When we asked him during which war this happened, he scratched his head and muttered: “I can’t remember. They all run together…”

This history of war seems to give the Lebanese a strange, double nature. On the one hand they are very energetic, remarkably resilient, and they love life. On the other hand they seem to think that every day might be their last one, and they act accordingly. The Lebanese spent a lot of time and money on looking good, they love their bling bling, and they smoke like chimneys. They love to party; almost every night we were there we saw fireworks.  In general, anything that entails a long term commitment seems to be off the agenda.

Meanwhile the power is cut three times a day. Garbage and rubble are left on the side of the road, on the beaches and in the rivers. Some stretches of beach that seem relatively free of trash are made up of many colored stones which upon closer inspection are in fact little pieces of glass, brick and tile.  The pieces of rubble are still a bit rough but your feet don’t get cut because they have been there long enough that the waves have rounded off most sharp edges.  For the country to blossom again it needs peace – and many more waves.

About a year ago we set out for what was supposed to be a small renovation project. We wanted to refurbish the ground floor: take out the false ceiling, bring the hardwood floors to the surface again, and take down that awful wall paper. We planned it all out: we would need two weeks, and it would cost us 189 euros. How wrong can you be…

One year and 4000 euros later, we look back and wonder what went wrong. After we got started, we realised we’d better go ahead and have the electricity redone while we were at it. But we realised we could do some of the work on the electricity ourselves, but not all of it. So we called an electrician. But you can’t ask an electrictian to come out for just two rooms, so we decided to have the ground floor and the basement redone. It escalated further from there.

I’ll save you the details, but it was an ordeal. We had to strip our house to the bare essentials before we could start the actual refurbishing and see some results. We lived in one room for a while. We spent night after night, weekend after weekend working, until we dreaded going home.

But eventually, with a lot of help from friends and family, we finished it. Of course it is not completely finished (will it ever be?) but at the beginning of May we applied the last layer of varnish on the floor, and called it a day. We have our house back. Miles can run around again, and we can invest our time in something else than this project again.

Our thanks goes out to Luk, Magda, Sara, Jasper, Kirsten, Hannes and Katrien, Thomas, Joke, Wim, Ben and Julie, Koen, Bert, Tom, Katrien and everybody who helped out. We couldn’t have done it without you…