Sunny Snapshots from Pula, Croatia!

Mardi, le 26 juin.

When people find out that I work in Brussels, their first follow-up questions are almost always about travel. "You live in Europe? You must travel all the time!" But as I've explained before on this blog, living and working abroad is just that -- living and working, abroad. I know that I'm very lucky to have the opportunity to live and work in a foreign country, but 90% of the time my life no more resembles a backpacking trip across Europe than yours. I can count on one hand the number of times that I've left Belgium for reasons other than work since starting my job nearly a year ago -- and that includes three trips back to the United States for holidays and my sister's graduation.

After nearly a full year in Belgium, I have made it a personal goal to travel more in the coming twelve months and to finally visit some of the not-so-Francophone-friendly countries on my travel bucket list.

I just got back from the first of these adventures -- a weekend in Pula! -- and can't wait to share some reflections from my weekend in sunny Croatia.

If you've never heard of Pula, you're not alone. I had never heard of the city before booking this trip and had not intended to start off this year of adventurous travel with a trip to northern Croatia. But I had been trying for months to meet up with a friend from high school who is spending the year in a master's program in Dublin ... and when she proposed meeting up in Croatia, I couldn't say no!

Friday from the Francophone Files | 26 May

Vendredi, 26 mai

Back in Brussels from a crazy week in Luxembourg (more on that below) -- just in time for a second installment of Friday from the Francophone Files!

UN

Listening to ... Brussels Jazz Weekend

Whether it's running on a treadmill versus running through a park or sitting in a dark theater versus going to an outdoor film festival, I'm a firm believer that everything is better outside. While my level of appreciation for jazz leaves something to be desired (insert joke about La La Land here), I'm pretty sure that an outdoor music festival in the city center of Brussels will be right up my alley. Read more and plan your weekend on the Brussels Jazz Weekend website.

DEUX

Eating ... Avocado Nests

One of my goals for 2017 was to be more aware of the things I was putting into my body, and to make a renewed effort to eat healthy -- but that's easier said than done in a country whose most famous foods are fries, waffles, beer, and chocolate! In an attempt to kick off my day the healthy way, I decided to give a new breakfast recipe a try last weekend. The recipe for avocado nests seemed simple enough: cut an avocado in half, pour an egg into the hollowed-out middle, season with salt and pepper, and bake.

Needless to say, it didn't quite work out that way. (It turns out that unripened avocados will not magically turn from rocks to deliciously ripe fruits in the oven, so DO NOT EVEN TRY.) Better luck next week.

 

TROIS
Talking about ... Gauthier Destenay

Amidst all the media coverage of the president's first trip abroad, one story stuck out to me. When the wives of NATO leaders gathered for a day of tours and museum visits in Brussels. they were joined by Gauthier Destenay, the husband of Luxembourgish Prime Minister Xavier Bettel, the only openly gay head of government in the world. This isn't Destenay's first time on the world stage: the couple, who have been together for nearly a decade, recently made waves when they visited the Vatican together earlier this spring. But reporters went crazy with stories about the "First Gentleman" amidst the First Ladies of NATO ... and since it is always nice to have your favorite grand duchy go viral for something positive (looking at you, #LuxLeaks), I am all about it!

QUATRE
Reading ... Walkable City

Walkable City: How Downtown Can Save America, One Step at a Time was published in 2012, but since I often joke that Brussels lags about five years behind the United States in terms of trends, you could argue that my recent discovery is actually right on time. Written by architect and city planner Jeff Speck, Walkable City provides fascinating look at role of walkability in the revitalization of Americans cities. Over a couple hundred pages and dozens of compelling case studies, Speck argues that walkable cities are better cities, and lays out the steps necessary to make that happen. It's informative, accessible, and so interesting that you won't be able to stop yourself from spewing fun facts about walkability to everyone you know. Just ask anyone I've talked to in the past month!

CINQ
Thinking about ... Luxembourg!

I spent the past couple of days in Luxembourg representing the Fulbright Commission at the fourth annual Transatlantic Dialogue: Creating Human Bonds through Cultural Diplomacy. The conference brought together higher education professionals and artists from the United States, Luxembourg, and neighboring European countries to discuss questions related to education, art, diversity, and more.

Of course, the best part of the conference was getting to spend time in my favorite little country.

Friday from the Francophone Files | 19 May

Vendredi, 19 mai.

TGIF, or as we say here, Dieu merci, c'est vendredi! I've just finished my first week back in the office after a two week holiday in the States and I don't think that I've ever been so relieved to make it to a weekend.

My recent trip back to the States gave me some time to think about my priorities and, in particular, about my plans for this website. I've had this blog for almost four years now and the quality and frequency of my posts has changed a lot during that period. As I figure out where I'll be taking the site in the future, my hip and social media savvy younger sister suggested that a short weekly post series might help to keep me on track. Friday from the Francophone Files will be just that: some of the things I'm reading, watching, listening to, and thinking about as an American gal in Francophone Europe. Let's get started!

UN

Talking about ... POTUS Comes to Brussels

Donald Trump is coming to Brussels and I've got the inside scoop. (Just kidding!) The president will be in Brussels next Wednesday and Thursday for a NATO summit with leaders from the other member countries as well as meetings with EU and Belgian leaders. Given the president's previous criticism of NATO, it will be interesting to see how he fares in the city he described as a "hellhole" -- and to see how the rest of Brussels fares under the increased security of such a high-profile presidential visit.

In case you were wondering, there's no presidential meeting planned for me! I'll actually be out of town for work during the second half of next week, so unless Trump makes an unexpected detour to Luxembourg, I will be missing the entirety of the visit.

DEUX
Listening to ... Pod Save the World

I listen to podcasts all day long, from basically the minute I wake up in the morning until the moment I fall asleep to Meditation Oasis. (Don't knock it till you try it: their 18-minute "Relax into Sleep" pod ends with five minutes of music, which I cannot confirm because I have never NOT fallen asleep before the end.)

One of my favorites is Pod Save the World, hosted by Tommy Vietor of Crooked Media. I've listened to every single episode and have learned things that I did not even know I didn't know about foreign policy, from the history of U.S. relations with China to the secret negotiations that led to the Iran nuclear deal. The podcast most recently featured an interview with Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Jeffrey Gettleman, the author of Love, Africa: A Memoir of Romance, War, and Survival. The episode that I've embedded below, however, is a throwback to April 2017 with an in-depth look at the political situation in France. Even though the election has passed, I highly recommend it for an introduction to the political situation in France and to the challenges facing the newly-elected president!

TROIS

Thinking about ... New Election, Same Old Misogyny 

One of the most interesting side effects of the recent presidential election in France has been the misogynistic and just plain mean commentary surrounding new 'First Lady of France', Brigitte Macron. The wife of Emmanuel Macron has been attracting attention for her style and looks, as well as for her age: Mme Macron is 64, having met her husband -- 24 years her junior -- when he was a student in high school. Their story is romantic, unconventional (at least to us Americans, who prefer our presidential age differences in the opposite direction), and perfect fodder for mean-spirited critics, with inflammatory magazine Charlie Hebdo wading into the fray just this past week. Will Macron's bossy older wife exert too much influence in his presidency? Is marriage to an older woman the way that Macron is covering up for his homosexuality? And how much plastic surgery has she had anyway?

In short ... ugh.

QUATRE 

Talking about ... Belgian Pride

This weekend is Belgian Pride 2017. Now in its 22nd year, the event is a colorful celebration of the LGBT community in Belgium and the European Union. The theme of this year's event is Crossing Borders, with a particular focus on the experiences of LGBT+ refugees, both in their country of origin and at their arrival in Belgium. I'm not sure if I will make it out to this weekend's events, but recommend that you check out the variety of parades and events going on in downtown Brussels on Saturday!

CINQ

Thinking about ... Flowers, Flowers, Flowers!

It's easy to forget how much better flowers can make everything. I picked up these chrysanthemums on a grocery store run and for the price of a coffee, I now have a week's worth of enjoyment from these happy little flowers. Yippee!

And hold up a minute ... do y'all have suggestions for the blog? What aspects of the site do you enjoy? What do you wish you could see more of (or less)? And how do you feel about Friday from the Francophone Files? :)

Flowering Forest of Hallerbos

Samedi, 22 avril

"Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking."

This Miranda Priestley takedown one of the most enduring lines from The Devil Wears Prada, a movie that I have seen so many times I have lost count and that gave me incredibly unrealistic standards for the amount of time and effort that employees are supposed to commit to their jobs. Which, come to think of it, is perhaps why I found myself in Flanders this weekend, having volunteered to lead a group of American Fulbrighters on a seven kilometer walk through Hallerbos.

But when your office looks like this, wouldn't you want to work on weekends too?

Easter at the Laeken Royal Greenhouses

Dimanche, 16 avril

It is Easter Sunday and spring has sprung in Belgium! Or so they tell me. While the weather does not have any apparent plans to get any warmer (my winter coat is still in a depressingly regular rotation), the flowers are blooming, the days are getting longer, and -- as of this weekend -- the Laeken Royal Greenhouses are open.

Located on the estate of the Royal Castle of Laeken, the primary residence of the Belgian royal family, the Royal Greenhouses open to the public for several weeks in April and May as an annual spring treat for locals and tourists, who line up by the hundreds to get a glimpse of the unique flowers and plants in the historic royal collection. And what better way to spend Easter than surrounded by fancy flowers?!

The Serres Royales de Laeken or Koninklijke Serres van Laken were built by Leopold II, the second King of the Belgians. During his forty-four year reign between 1865 and 1909, Leopold II was known as the "Builder King" due to the number of public buildings he constructed across the country, including the triumphal arch in Brussels' Parc du Cinquantenaire and the Antwerpen-Centraal Railway Station.

The stunning Jardin d'Hiver, or Winter Garden, was the first of several greenhouses to be constructed on the estate. Built between 1874 and 1876, they still contain many of the massive palm trees that were part of Leopold II's collection. And that roof!

 

Built of steel and glass in a style considered quite groundbreaking for its time, the greenhouses were envisioned as a shining city of glass by architect Alphonse Balat. The structures marked a stylistic departure for Balat and an important step toward the Art Nouveau style that would later be developed by, among others, Balat's own apprentice, Victor Horta!

The greenhouses are home to a historic collection of trees and plants, many of which date back to the reign of Leopold II, but gardeners add a particularly colorful touch to the rooms of the Pier Greenhouse for the annual public viewings.

The Year of the Grown Up

Lundi, 2 janvier

Over the course of the past twelve months, I've taken some big steps into the Grown Up World: chief among them, starting my first real job. But there's still a lot to be done when it comes to truly adulting (if using that word is still acceptable?), and it feels like 2017 is the year to do it.

That's right, folks. It's New Year's Resolutions time.

First up? Eat my fruits + veggies and walk my ten thousand steps. One of my resolutions for 2016 was to "take better care of myself" and a year later, I'm honestly not sure whether or not I have met that goal. Why not try again in 2017? This isn't a resolution to start working out three times a week or stop eating sugar (LOL), because I have little doubt that those are the kinds of resolutions that wouldn't last long. Instead, I'm going to try to keep up some of the healthy little habits that make me happy: trying to eat fruits and vegetables with every meal and hitting the 10,000 step mark on my Fitbit at least five days a week.

Find a grown-up place to live. If you are a person who loves me, then I have probably taken advantage of that fact in the past few weeks and peppered you with endless questions about housing that, really, only I can answer. Do I want to live in a studio? I need to have a washing machine, right? DO I REALLY NEED TO BUY A COUCH?! And so on. This panic is due in part to that fact that while I've enjoyed my shared residence, I think that it's time for me to find something of my own. In my current place, with flatmates moving in and out every few months, it is hard to feel like I am not another temporary intern. Having my own place will help me feel more settled and give me a little corner of Brussels to call my own. Unfortunately, having your own place takes work and five consecutive years of living in university dorms did little to teach me about things like paying for utilities, installing curtain rods, and hiring a lift to move furniture in through the living room window of an apartment. (Apparently in cities, this is a thing people do ... what?!) And having your own place in a foreign country means that all the utility-paying, curtain-hanging, and furniture-moving has to happen more or less alone.

Become financially literate. It's a fact that while women put more of their paychecks in savings than men, they ultimately wind up with less money in the bank by the time they retire. Not if my mom has anything to say about it! She has taken to texting me daily investment tips from my grandfather, who knows more about this stuff than the rest of us combined. While I have always been Ebenezer Scrooge pretty good at not spending my money, the next step to successful savings is understanding and making smart choices about how to invest it.

Stay ... literarily ... literate. One of my favorite goals for 2016 was to read more books. There is nothing that I love more than curling up with a good book, but it had become so easy to curl up with a movie on Netflix or a series of 30-second cooking videos on Instagram that I was no longer prioritizing books. With the help of my home library's online catalog (shout out to Fairfax County Public Libraries for being hip with the times), I managed to turn that around. Getting back into my true bookworm state was so refreshing and one of the accomplishments I am the most proud of! Some of the titles that stuck with me from the past year for various reasons were The Nightingale (Kristin Hannah), The Goldfinch (Donna Tartt), and At the Water's Edge (Sara Gruen). My most recent obsession is the Maisie Dobbs series by Jacqueline Winspear, as something about this 20th century lady detective fills the Downton Abbey-shaped void in my heart.

This year, I've gone a step further and created a GoodReads account to help me track my reading! Visit my profile to connect and see what books I'm loving! 

Prioritize quality. This is perhaps the most important resolution on my list. When I say quality, I'm not talking about expensive clothes and nice purses ... well, not entirely. I think that part of becoming a grown-up is figuring out what you consider to be a worthwhile investment -- of your time, money, caloric intake, and so on. For me, prioritizing quality in 2017 means allotting the time and money to cook quality meals (at least on the weekends). Spending less of my screen time scrolling through Snapchat articles on my phone and more time reading real newspapers. Taking a few precious minutes to sit down with breakfast and a cup of coffee in the morning instead of scarfing down crackers on my way to the office. And hey, maybe there might even be a nice purse somewhere down the line.

Cheers to a great new year!

An Afternoon Tour of Amsterdam

Vendredi, 9 décembre

Several months ago, I took an impromptu trip to the Netherlands with my friends. We wound up skipping over the big cities and instead spent our time petting wild horses in Nijmegen and sitting on the (very cold) beach in Domburg. It was a blast, and I detailed all of it a blog post appropriately titled "There's More to the Netherlands than Amsterdam." At the time, I wrote about how I'd never much been interested in Amsterdam: from the Red Light district to the seedy coffee shops, there just was not much about the Dutch city that I had ever found appealing.

Fast forward to December, when I got the opportunity to travel up to Utrecht and Amsterdam for a work event with the Dutch Fulbright Commission. After a morning of meetings, I decided to spend the afternoon on a free city walking tour. I think I may owe Amsterdam an apology...

What the Presidential Election means to this American Abroad

Dimanche, 13 novembre.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Wednesday was supposed to be a good day. I was supposed to wake up bright and early to celebrate with Americans abroad as the seemingly inevitable results trickled in. I was supposed to spend the day at an outreach event, speaking to Luxembourgish students about study opportunities in the United States. I would have sneaked glances at my phone, pausing to retweet quotes from Clinton's seemingly inevitable victory speech, to like images whose captions boasted of the work of Nasty Women, and to dash off quick texts to friends abroad with a series of patriotic emojis. It would have been a long day, but it was supposed to have been a great one.

But that didn't happen. Like many Americans abroad, I  slept fitfully on Election Night -- dozing off for 45 minutes before waking up to look at the news and check in with family. I panicked briefly when I woke up to find that my home state of Virginia was proving closer than anticipated and fell back asleep once certain that it had, in fact, stayed blue. When I finally got out of bed at 4:00 a.m., it was with a growing sense of dread that I refreshed Twitter and watched the results come in. An hour later, what I had envisioned as a triumphant celebration felt uncomfortably like a vigil. I sucked down coffee and made small talk, laughing too loudly at feeble jokes while keeping one eye on the CNN screen. Too close to call. Too close to call. Until suddenly, it wasn't.

As an American who has been living outside of the U.S. since the early chapters of this crazy story, I now feel more out of touch with my country than I ever thought possible. When a reporter asked if I had lost friends during the election, I admitted that I couldn't think of a single close friend who had expressed support for Trump. I have since identified a few likely suspects on my Facebook news feed, but the overwhelming majority of the people in my life were, albeit perhaps reluctantly, with her. I doubt that I am alone in this. Whether intentionally or subconsciously, we surround ourselves with those who share our interests, personal beliefs, and political convictions. (Don't believe me? Check out this study from PRRI, which found that white Americans' self-reported social networks are 91% white.) For most Americans, this bubble is briefly punctured -- by yard signs, television commercials, and bumper stickers that force us to acknowledge the exclusivity of our normal interactions. In my case, however, this bubble has only been strengthened by my geographic separation from the States. As an American abroad, the only social contact I have with Americans is my (often virtual) interaction with a select group of friends and family. Even now, I remain baffled by Trump's popularity, as I can find little to no evidence of it in my own social network.

With an indefinite job contract and no immediate plans to leave Belgium, I have received a lot of messages and comments within the past few days from friends, family members, and coworkers about my future. "So I guess this means you'll be Belgium for the next four years, huh?" "Please look for a bigger apartment so I can come live with you." I get it. Trust me, I get it. I have never felt more tempted to raise a particular finger, shout a particular word, and peace out of my country until the next general election. But leaving is not how you affect change, just as quitting is not how you win. In the words of Slate's Will Oremus, "Don't move to Canada ... move to a swing state." Moreover, what these friends may not realize is that while renewing their passports and hopping on a plane may seem like the easiest way to avoid negative consequences of the next four years, being an American abroad under a Donald Trump presidency is going to be hard.

As the token American in many conversations, I am often called upon to defend such trivial things as my country's affinity for fast food, our monolingual culture, and our insistence on mixing peanut butter and jelly at the lunch table. Even when the topic of conversation remains lighthearted, this task is not always fun: one of the darkest days of my year in Luxembourg was the afternoon I spent trying and failing to explain s'mores to my disgusted European housemates.

Americans abroad now face the daunting task of explaining much more than strange food pairings. When asked about the election over the course of the past year, I have done my best to defend my country, promising everyone that the hateful rhetoric spewed by campaign supporters, surrogates, and not infrequently by Trump himself is not representative of the American people. Now, I am faced with irrefutable evidence that it is. This realization feels like a betrayal, and an embarrassing one at that -- like a beleaguered wife realizing the spouse she has publicly defended for years has been keeping people locked up in their basement the whole time. ("Oops! Guess I didn't know him as well as I thought.") And it has already begun. On the morning of the election, one of this year's English Teaching Assistants asked, in tears: "What am I supposed to say to the Syrian refugees in my class?" Another friend texted from France, where she is teaching in a secondary school, to ask how she was supposed to discuss election results with her students when she could hardly process them herself. The following day, when I met a hijab-wearing girl in my hotel in Luxembourg City, I hesitated when telling her where I was from. Would she ask me about the election? About the anti-Muslim policies proposed by the now president-elect? And if she did, what would I say?

And this brings me to what I feel like I need to get off my chest.

One of the most devastating parts of this loss for me was the fact that instead of electing its first female president, our country seems poised to take a giant step backward with regards to gender equality. I do not look forward to the consequences of this election when it comes to reproductive rights, maternity leave, and equal pay and treatment for women. However as a white, heterosexual, Christian, I am aware that I belong to a privileged demographic that is likely to suffer the least over the next several weeks, months, and years. While I feel confused and betrayed by this week's results, I truly cannot begin to imagine the levels of hurt, frustration, and fear being felt by those of a different color, religion, or sexuality.

Over the past few days, I have seen a handful of messages -- even in my little bubble! -- encouraging Democrats to begin the process of healing by remaining respectful of and tolerant toward the opposing side. One viral image touted the "beautiful, inspirational people" who supported candidates on both sides and ended by arguing: "Don't think less of people because some of their beliefs don't align with yours, and don't lose quality people in your life because you chose hate over love." And I'd just like to say ... hold up. I agree that we should respect one another, despite our differences, and I am sure that some otherwise pleasant people cast their votes for Donald Trump on Tuesday. For many of these voters, including those who saw the Republican nominee as the solution to a changing economy that has left their communities behind, I am willing to believe that Trump's inflammatory comments about Mexicans and Muslims were the last thing on their mind as they cast their ballots. But impact is more important than intent. In choosing to support a man whose political campaign was based on messages of hate and intolerance, voters implicitly endorsed his agenda and sent a message to the populations he has marginalized: "I do not care enough about you to vote against a man who has demeaned your humanity and threatened your existence." If that's not choosing hate over love, I don't know what is.

So what am I going to do? For the time being, I'm going to stay in Belgium. (And once I get a bigger apartment, you're welcome to come visit.) I'm going to spend the day in my pajamas and I'm probably going to watch Kate McKinnon on SNL and cry a couple more times. But then I am going to do my best to foster positive change in my country by donating my time and money to organizations that will continue to fight for the rights of women and minorities, no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. (Want suggestions? This article from Jezebel has a few.) I'm going to let my congressional representatives know how I feel when it comes time for them to vote for or against upcoming legislation. (Want to get in touch? This interview with former staffer Emily Ellsworth explains how to effectively make your feelings known.)

And when it comes time to do this whole Election Day all over again, I'm going to work as hard as I can to ensure that it turns out the way it is supposed to.

Autumn Colors in Parc de Woluwe

Mercredi, 2 novembre.

Hello from Brussels, where I'm in the midst of a mid-week weekend, as the Royal Library of Belgium has been closed in honor of All Saints' Day and All Souls Day. (But tell me more about how it's the Americans who don't have a separation of church and state, okay Europe?) Though I'm a little skeptical about the secular origins of these vacation days, I've been taking advantage of my first time off to catch up on things like fresh air and sunshine and I have to say ... I. Am. Loving. It.

Located in the suburb of Woluwe-Saint-Pierre, the Parc de Woluwe is one of the city's largest parks, filled with over 180 species of trees -- the vast majority of which have burst into color over the past couple of weeks. So what better place to spend a November morning off?

 

... Three Months Later

Lundi, 11 octobre.

I moved to Belgium three months ago.

And, for all intents and purposes, promptly forgot about this blog. (Whoops!)

In my defense, it has been a busy three months. In the last ninety days, I started a new job, moved into a new house, spent a week visiting family in the U.S., went on my first business trip, organized my first major work event, and bought two new pairs of sneakers. (Shout out to Nike, official sponsor of my descent into European-ness.) The whole thing has been a whirlwind of faces and names and forms and numbers and in a way, it's surprising that a whole year hasn't passed by without me knowing it.

But if I'm being honest, the real reason behind my radio silence hasn't been the number of things going on in my life, but rather the lack thereof. While the past three months have in many ways been a wonderful tornado of change and professional development, they've also been, well, pretty uneventful. Since moving to Brussels, I've spent most of my time working and going about the unglamorous business of daily life. And while I've developed a pretty efficient grocery shopping schedule, that doesn't exactly make for a riveting blog post. Of course, I am beginning to make friends (and plans that don't revolve around groceries), but it's slow going.

It doesn't help matters that, as an employee of the Fulbright Commission, I'm constantly reminded of exactly what I was up to a year ago. I can't deny that those adventures -- a house full of friendly housemates, weekends spent hiking and exploring castle ruins -- felt distinctly more exciting, interesting, and blogworthy. In comparison, my life in Brussels is like 70% work, 30% Netflix ... and who wants to read about that?

Nostalgia, personified.

As things begin to feel a little less strange and I begin to feel a little more Belgian, I promise that this blog will become more of a priority again. Stay tuned for posts about moving to Brussels. my day trips to Flanders and Wallonia, and -- everyone's favorite topic -- the experience of an American abroad during the 2016 presidential election. (Just kidding.)

A Magical Afternoon at the Harry Potter Exhibition

Dimanche, 31 juillet.

As July comes to a close, I'm celebrating my first three weeks working in Belgium and -- as of yesterday -- being fully moved in to my new home away from home! Two of my friends drove up from Luxembourg yesterday to bring the last of my belongings and to visit for the day.

Lucie and Dikra have both been to Brussels a couple of times, so instead of hitting up the usual tourist spots, we decided to check out something a little bit different...

 

That's right, folks. Harry Potter: The Exhibition.

Never heard of it? This travelling exhibit features props, costumes, and set pieces from the Harry Potter film series -- sort of like a moving version of the Warner Brothers Studio Tour. Since 2009, it has been to over a dozen cities, including Chicago, New York, Tokyo, Paris, and now Brussels. Guests to the exhibition walk through reconstructed sets and rooms featuring everything from moving portraits to screaming mandrakes. And uh, yeah. It. Is. Awesome.

We got tired and decided to grab a seat in Hagrid's hut!

It's Not Goodbye. It's ... Äddi!

Samschdeg, 23 Juli.

Today is my last full day in Luxembourg. Tomorrow, I'll get on the train to Brussels. And then -- poof -- I won't be a temporary Luxembourger anymore. No more teaching English to trilingual sixteen-year-olds. No more hopping on Bus 4 to Belval and hoping that the driver remembers that they added a stop at Cité des Sciences. No more picnicking on abandoned castles in tiny villages on sunny afternoons. No more walking to the animal park after Sunday morning brunches to check on the raccoons.

Leaving Luxembourg two weeks ago was not easy -- not least of all because a délai indéfini between Esch and Luxembourg City threatened to make me miss my train to Brussels -- and I know that tomorrow, my final departure will be even tougher. It is hard to explain why. It was difficult to say goodbye to my students, to the teachers who have supported and mentored me all year, and to the housemates who made my year truly amazing. And yet, in the perpetually-connected 21st century world in which we live, I know that no "goodbye" is permanent. This will not be the last time that I hang out with my friends, or meander down the Chemin de la Corniche, or eat an ice cream cone in Place d'Armes. (Which is, side note, the best place to eat an ice cream cone.) And yet, something feels particularly finite about my impending departure. Whether or not this is the last time I see my friends, and whether or not it is my last time in Luxembourg, it is clear that this chapter of my life is coming to a close. This setting, these characters may return in later stages, but the story will never be quite the same again.

I visited Luxembourg's Museum of Modern Art a couple of weeks ago and saw Fiona Tan's "Island." The installation, which was first created in 2008, features a fifteen-minute black-and-white video with voiceover narration. I was watching, more than a little skeptical (... modern art, ya know?), when the narrator said something that stuck with me.

"When she leaves, she will fold up this place and put it in her pocket for safe-keeping."

And that's exactly what I am going to do.

Lest you feel the need to reach for a tissue, let me assure you that -- of course -- it's not all sad. In fact, it is mostly happy! I am absolutely thrilled about moving to Brussels and love life in the city so far (even if there are a couple hundred thousand more people than I've become used to). And after a week and a half at my new job, I am so happy with my decision and feel genuinely excited to go to work every morning.

And so, despite the fact that I am 99.9% sure I will cry on the train tomorrow, it feels more like a time for celebration than sadness. I'm spending this last weekend in the Grand Duchy packing, relaxing, and doing some of the most wonderfully Luxembourgish things I can think of. Sunbathing at the Remerschen Lake -- because after ten months, it's finally warm enough to think about swimming. Baking cakes and marathoning "One Tree Hill" with my housemates. Watching movies at the Open Air Cinema. And, of course, taking the brand-new Pfaffenthal Elevator. (Seriously, this sucker has been under construction for six years and it finally opens on my last day in Luxembourg? It's fate, I tell you.)

So Luxembourg, it has come time for us to part. But remember -- it's not "Goodbye." It's "Äddi!" ;)

Musée Méindeg: Roman Villa Echternach

Méindeg, 4 Juli.

One of the first places I visited after arriving in Luxembourg was the historic town of Echternach. Since then, I've returned almost a dozen times: hiking, travelling with friends, or even visiting the town's medieval Christmas market. If you've visited me, chances are we went to Echternach. (If you've visited me and we didn't go to Echternach ... awkwaaaard.) Anyhow, despite all of these visits, there is one major Echternach highlight that I'd never managed to see. Until last week, that is!

Today's Musée Méindeg post is taking you to the Roman Villa Echternach! The remains of this third-century Roman villa were discovered in 1975, during excavations for an artificial lake. It has since been named one of the most important Gallo-Roman sites north of the Alps!
 

The sizable villa was located in a suburb, so to speak, of the massive Roman settlement in modern-day Trier. Today, it's hard to imagine the network of residential villas and military fortifications that once covered this region! Still, the excavated and semi-reconstructed site goes a long way to helping you imagine what life might have been like for these ancient Luxembourgers. Given the climate (with temperatures just *slightly* cooler than in Italy), I was particularly amazed at the number of outdoor courtyards and open-air colonnades.

Hello Châteaux: Picnicking at Bourglinster Castle

Mëttwoch, 29 Juni.

With just under two weeks left in Luxembourg, I have been frantically trying to cross as many things off my bucket list as possible. Today, that meant paying a visit to one of Luxembourg's many castles: the adorable Château de Bourglinster.

Bourglinster Castle is, to put it simply, old. In the thirteenth century, the castle was the property of the noble family of Linster. (Get it? Bourglinster ... Bourg Linster?) It passed from family to family over the next eight hundred years, gradually being transformed from fortified fortress to Renaissance castle. Click here to learn more via Visit Luxembourg.

Despite its advanced age, Bourglinster looks pretty great! The castle has been fully restored and boasts a fresh coat of (baby pink?) paint on its tiny towers. As you might remember from my visit to the Musée de Maquettes des Châteaux et Châteaux Forts du Luxembourg, the majority of Luxembourg's châteaux forts are no longer in great condition. Those that are not in ruins tend to be privately-owned or have been restored for some specific purpose. Bourglinster Castle is no exception: today, it is home to multiple restaurants. (Click here to check out their website.) You can even book the castle for your wedding!

 

Although the castle itself is not open to visitors except for previously-arranged private tour, the castle grounds -- including the ruins of some of the oldest parts of the property -- are free to be explored. We found a particularly sunny spot and plopped down for a picnic.

Sorry Europe -- You're Not Getting Rid of Me Yet!

Samschdeg, 2 Juli.

I first arrived in Luxembourg a whopping 295 days ago-- bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to jump into nine months of adventures in the Grand Duchy. As the year went on and the prospect of leaving my new international life became all too real, I hemmed and hawed about finding a way to stay in Europe. ("Just find a job here!" my housemates counseled me, blissfully unaware of the challenges that face a non-EU citizen trying to enter the European workforce. Hello, work visa!) However, the plan -- as evidenced by the round-trip KLM tickets I purchased back in August 2015 -- was always to return to the United States and to the Washington, D.C., area after finishing my grant in July.

But you know what they say about plans. Namely, they change.

And so, instead of returning to the United States in July, I will be moving to Brussels (!) to begin a full-time job (!!) as the new Fulbright Program Manager and EducationUSA Adviser with the Fulbright Commission (!!!).

I'm not exaggerating when I say that this has been my dream job since day one. While I am sure that this new experience will come with its own unique set of challenges (not least of which being the continued absence of Target and authentic Mexican food in my life), I could not be more excited. I cannot express how lucky I feel for the opportunity to continue my involvement with Fulbright, to learn more about the field of global education, and to live in a city as beautiful and dynamic as Brussels.

I will be starting work in just under two weeks, which means that I'll be leaving Luxembourg ten months -- to the day! -- after I arrived, way back in September. Although I won't be moving very far away, I know that it will be difficult to say goodbye to this wonderful little country and to the people who have made the past ten months so wonderful. Instead of dwelling too much on our upcoming departure, my friends and I have decided to make the most of our last couple of weeks in Luxembourg by doing all of the things we've intended to do, but somehow never got around to. Stay tuned for nine days of indulgent bucket list fulfillment -- and, more than likely, a handful of weepy blog posts! ;)

What Brexit Means to an American Abroad

When I went to sleep last night, it looked like it was all going to be okay. The earliest reports indicated a narrow margin of victory for Remain, buoyed by a dramatic pro-Remain response in Gibralter. Even Nigel Farage, the bombastic face of the Leave movement, had come close to delivering a concession. When I woke up this morning, the world had changed.

I'm not British. I'm not even European. But the announcement that the United Kingdom is leaving the European Union has huge implications for me.

When I first arrived in Luxembourg in September, it seemed like everyone -- my housemates, my students, my lycée coworkers -- found nothing funnier than asking their new token American about the upcoming presidential election. "So," they would whisper conspiratorially, "how do you feel about Donald Trump?" I would roll my eyes and play along: "Great. Love him. I'm so glad that's what you associate me with." Sometimes, the conversation would turn to politics, with me attempting to explain the concept of primaries and caucuses (or, 'why my country's election is dominating your country's news 13 months before it happens'). Sometimes, we'd discuss our fears about the sobering rise of xenophobia and far-right parties in our respective countries. But most often, we'd move on. Because, you know, it wasn't actually going to happen.

Over the past ten months, things have changed. Within the Republican Party, seventeen candidates has turned to one and politicians who once scoffed at Trump's candidacy are now making their own reluctant endorsements. Meanwhile, the friends who teased me about Donald Trump have now watched and responded in shock as far-right movements gained traction in their own countries. The Luxembourgish coworkers who once began conversations by asking "So ... what about Trump?" have fallen silent on the issue. (Are they worried that I'll burst into tears if forced to confront my country's failings?) And my response has changed. I no longer laugh off references to the November 2016 election and to the increasingly contentious, nationalistic, and xenophobic rhetoric that accompanies it. Because it's not funny anymore.

When I first heard of it, Brexit seemed like nothing more than a fringe movement -- a crazy idea with a crazy name, brought forth by the radical right and destined to attract little attention before failing. Much like the concept of Donald Trump as the presidential nominee of a major political party, it seemed truly inconceivable. I shrugged it off. Even as it became clear that a Brexit was a legitimate political concern, I didn't let myself worry. Given those who opposed it in the UK and abroad -- President Obama! J.K. Rowling! John Oliver! -- it seemed evident to me that cooler heads would prevail, that the obvious merits of Britain's EU membership would outweigh the criticisms, that the UK would ultimately decide to stay. In discussions with students and housemates, where it became an increasingly popular topic of conversation, Brexit was almost a joke. Because, you know, they weren't actually going to do it.

But they did. This morning, it has become all too painfully obvious that Brexit is not and, in fact, never has been a joke. The result of the referendum -- 17,410,742 to 16,141,241 -- was read aloud on the BBC. The value of the pound plummeted overnight, dropping to the lowest rate in over three decades. David Cameron announced his resignation, perhaps inevitable under the circumstances, as Prime Minister. Political groups in Scotland and Northern Ireland, where citizens voted overwhelmingly to Remain, have called for new independence referendums. The implications, for citizens of both the United Kingdom and the European Union, are numerous and I have no doubt that the next days and weeks will bring a number of major changes to the political and economic landscape.

In the meantime, however, I want to make things about me.

Of course this referendum has implications for Americans abroad (including those planning more-affordable-than-ever trips to London). But we should all be paying attention. Because Brexit is about so much more than membership in the European Union. At its core, Brexit is proof that cooler heads do not always prevail. It is proof that fear is a powerful motivator and nationalism, a powerful manipulator. It is proof that an idea that seems radical, crazy, and downright impossible can, under the right conditions, become reality. And it's definitely not funny.

Musée Méindeg: Bastogne War Museum

Méindeg, 20 Juni.

Today's Musée Méindeg takes us outside of the Grand Duchy to the Bastogne War Museum. Located just across the Luxembourg-Belgium border, the museum is within easy driving distance of Luxembourg and makes for a popular day trip destination.

History buffs will surely recognize Bastogne for the strategic role it played in the 1944 Battle of the Bulge, an event that was immortalized in the 2001 miniseries Band of Brothers. (Haven't heard of it? Ask your dad.)

Just a few months after being liberated by Allied Forces, the town of Bastogne became the site of the one of the most dramatic events of World War II, when it was attacked by the Germans in December 1944 as part of Hitler's last-ditch attempt to recapture Antwerp and change the tide of the war. The siege lasted for a week, during which time the town -- and the small number of American soldiers defending it -- suffered many casualties. At one point during the Battle of Bastogne, German troops at succeeded in fully encircling the town and even gave the Americans the opportunity to surrender ... an offer to which General McAuliffe famously responded: "Nuts!" Ultimately, Patton's Third Army came to the relief of the exhausted forces: within a few weeks, the battle was won and the town of Bastogne re-liberated. Given the historical importance of the Battle of the Bulge, it's no wonder that Bastogne continues to be defined by its role in World War II.