The Grand Canal Party in Roeselare

The Grand Canal beach party in Roeselare, Belgium. Photo credits here. 

Several weekends ago, Chris and I experienced The Grand Canal beach party in our land-locked, Belgian home of Roeselare. It initially sounded suspect, but naturally, the McCoy's are always up for new adventures. Niekie (my first Belgian friend), rallied her posse to come out, enjoy the sand, dance the night away and support a great local DJ who just happened to be her hubby, Tim. It didn't take that much convincing to get Chris and I there. 

On the other side of the tracks, in the tired, industrial area of Roeselare, we walked through an arch built entirely out of wooden pallets and we completely forgot where we were. The set up was brilliant! Belgians are really great at capitalizing on their summers, and The Grand Canal beach party was a perfect example of just that. A wall of several thousand wooden pallets encompassed the make shift beach, restaurant, bar and DJ area. For two months in the summer, parties and events take place here when the weather is favorable. 

I love those moments when you blindly walk into a new place and feel immediately at ease. It didn't hurt that we were enjoying the balmy, Belgian evening with a big group of friends. What a difference a year can make! I remember walking through Roeselare as a complete stranger; watching people greet each other on the street, and stop at sidewalk cafes to kiss each other on the cheek. I wanted so badly to walk past someone familiar, to be recognized, to feel valued, to be known. A year later, I am being greeted everywhere I go, I am being kissed on the cheek and I am no longer a stranger. 

Back at It!

Well, hello there friends and family!

I almost forgot how to post on my own blog! I've been away a little too long! Oops-y-daisy! My mother phoned up the other day and said, "Honey, is everything okay? I have been checking your blog every single morning, and you've been slacking. Are you certain that everything's peachy-keen over there?" 

{Mom's are just the best aren't they?!}

Mom's comment got me thinking - is everything indeed "fine" in our expat-adventure? Contrary to what our mothers may think, we have not been away on an exotic month-long holiday, we're not pulling our hair out because of another sudden move, and fortunately we aren't rotting away in a foreign prison. We're still living in the quaint Belgian city of Roeselare, and we're enjoying the sweet (and slow) transition of winter turning into spring. Life is starting to feel a little more normal these days, and maybe that's partly why I haven't posted a whole lot recently. While there are still a million things to explore in our new world, I have been doing my very best to soak up the moments and enjoy BEING where I am. 

I am also being forced to learn a bit more about patience. Hard, but perhaps necessary, lessons. 

Our First Serbian Visitors!

Marko and Lela on the shopping street in Roeselare, Belgium. 

Remember Marko and Lela from Subotica, Serbia? They were our first friends in Serbia and they sort of adopted us into their big group of friends. Looking back on our year in Serbia, I don't remember feeling seriously homesick (except for when my first little nephew was born), and I know that Marko, Lela, and the community that they invited us into, were the reason we so easily adapted to our first home abroad. Chris and I truly feel that we have a grasp on the history and culture of Serbia because we were treated almost as locals for an entire year. Six months ago, we left Serbia, and through tear-filled goodbyes, Marko and Lela promised that they would come visit once we settled into our new home in Belgium . . . 

Well, they came through on their promise! We had Marko and Lela to ourselves for a whole five days! Chris and I were so excited to simply just be with them again and to share bits and pieces of our new adventure with them. Of course we made them sample all sorts of chocolates, cakes, waffles, frites (fries), and specialty Belgian beers. We took them to our favorite restaurants and cafes in Roeselare, and I will include those pictures in the next blog. 

Me and the Babas.

English = Grandmother or Grandma (or whatever nickname your family uses)

Russian = Bubushka (or "Baba" for short)

Serbian = Baka (or Baba can also be used)

Dutch = Grootmoeder (or "Oma" for short)

Chris and I are three weeks into our Dutch lessons which means that we can now have very elementary conversations.Now we know very important facts about our classmates:

Where are you from?

Where do you live? 

How do you get to this Dutch class? Auto, bus, by foot, by plane?

Are you married? 

Do you drink beer?

Do you have children?

Please repeat the question. . . . 

I am sorry, I don't understand. (Important to know.)

I am sorry, I only speak a little Dutch. 

What language(s) do you speak?