Tropical Girl vs The Cold

If I were to list down my stressors among the top notchers would have to be: The Cold.

For a tropical girl, it was already a major stressor for me in our offices and buildings in the Philippines. I really do have a very low tolerance level for the cold. I would set the air-conditioning at 22 or 23 (Celsius), anything lower than that was not only cold, but REALLY COLD for me. Now, in a country with four seasons and global warming wreaking havoc all around, the cold does not get to be funny at all. But in times when you feel that you have hit rock bottom, it can be comforting to know that you can bank on love to keep you warm (haha—cheesy! But true… ;)


A funny anecdote on warmth and cultural differences:

I remember the first time I came to visit BE. It was during the summer and the first thing we did was to leave my things in our hotel in Amsterdam, which was were my plane landed. Amsterdam: where legal weed, space cakes and prostitutes are so commercialized BUT still worth a try--the latter one I wasn’t able to try though. Hehe (just kidding!)

In the hotel lobby, I saw a nice painting mounted on the wall and below it was a wide-white metal object that I had also seen in photos of K’s room prior to my visit. I exclaimed my admiration for the painting and then touched the big metal bars and uttered, “This is nice. It’s like the one you have in your room noh… what is it??”

While trying to keep a straight face, K replied, “It’s a heater.”

For a split second I looked at him and then spat out a laugh which turned out to be a succession of giggles (like I am always prone to doing). It would have been embarrassing for me but really, I cannot imagine a house in my country having a heater (Baguio maybe??)…just like I cannot imagine a house in Belgium having air-conditioning. In the movies they don’t really say: “Oh, what a lovely heater you have.” or “This is our heater. Don’t you think it’s just lovely?” Hence, I never knew what a heater looked like…until that day.

For sure, I will never mistake a heater for anything else ever again and I will always have one funny heater incident tucked under my belt.

--End of Anecdote.


On a serious note, I am faced with the reality that the cold will always be a part of my life from now on. More often than not, it is something the sun cannot even beat into submission. I will have to constantly battle it and struggle with it. They say keep your friends close; your enemies closer.

The cold is my enemy. The cold is my friend.

LEVEL 2: 500 Euros and The Wackos (from the Huis van het Nederlands)

And so I begin with another chapter in the Huis van het Nederlands series.

We started our class last Monday. Immediately, when I entered the room (I was late during the first day, as usual. Haay...some things never change!) a booming voice was reverberating and it was coming from a Mexican looking guy (okay, booming and reverberating might be a bit of an exaggeration…let me just say then that it was quite "AUDIBLE”). I didn’t mind at first and thought, “Well, it’s just Day 1. Some people can just be like that; Don’t Judge, Jacki. First impressions don’t normally last. Things will be okay for your next two months of classes.”

I sat beside A, my Italian classmate from Niveau 1, together with D, the Russian Mafia (just kidding!). Ofcourse, on Day 1 you are supposed to bring money for the book that is to be used for that semester. Being the me that I am, I forgot to bring cash and well…they didn’t accept Mastercard. Hehe So the forgetful ones were given the chance to pay the next day and those that weren’t as forgetful paid for the textbook: 18 euro.

The trainer went around to collect money from the rich and the paupers were left to stare off into space or for those who were interested, indulge in the casual “What is your name?” and “Where are you from?” conversation with their seatmates.

Now for the juicy part:

When our trainer reached the guy who was talking loudly when I came inside the room, he made a big sweeping gesture to take out his wallet from his back pocket and took out the only bill he might have had there…yep! You guessed it right! 500 euros.

500 EUROS?!?!?! WTF? In Belgium, 500 euros can get me and K Ryanair (plane) tickets to almost half of the Schengen countries. 500 euros in the Philippines is worth a 2 week stay in the island of Malapascua WITH MEALS. So, what I’m getting at, is that 500 euros, moreover, a 500 EURO BILL, is a lot of money…and it is also something that is quite rare here and that you don’t get to see much of. And to pay for just an 18 euro book and ask for 478 euros change (whoops! 482 ;P ) is quite silly. The trainer then said that she didn’t have change (ofcourse!) and told the guy, well let’s call him “500 euros”, that he can pay the next day, when he'd have change. The trainer then stepped out to get the books from the secretariat.

When the trainer came back with the books she distributed it to the people who were not forgetful and sane enough to pay the adequate amount. When 500 euros didn’t get a book he bellowed (and this time I am not exaggerating): “Howboutmybook? Wherzmybook??”. He apparently had a not so coherent French-Algerian accent.

The trainer, a bit appalled by his outburst, tried to calmy say, “You will get your book tomorrow when you pay.”

“ButIhavemoney! Whydon’tyougiveme abook?!”, while saying this 500 euros took out again his…tadah! 500 euros! Waving it in the air like a national flag.

“I don’t have change so I will give you the book tomorrow when you give me a smaller amount.”, the trainer patiently explained.

“ButIhavemoney!”, 500 euros insisted, “Okay, I’llgiveyoumymoney, yougivemethebook, andthenyou givemethechangetomorrow.”

All 10 of us, the students of level 2 with our new mini-United Nations group with a representative each from: Ecuador, Bulgaria, Italy, Russia, two from Iraq, Albania, Thailand, Turkey, and me, the Philippines…all 10 of us began looking at each other and was united by one single thought: “What the hell is wrong with this guy???”.

In the end, the trainer won and he put his 500 euros back in his wallet.

Whew! The days went on and the wacko continued being a wackjob and in some instances, his wacko-ness seemed to contaminate the other people in the group. Unfortunately, the trainer didn't seem to be helping any either. So just today, after one week of agony, D and I asked to be moved to the morning class. Bah, we made up some "valid" excuse. Some people you just couldn’t stand. I think this new one is better (except for the fact that S is there--ajajajajajaja)… I KNOW it's gonna be better. I can just feel it... *wink*

14 degrees and Let the Sun Shine In!

When I was back home K would always tell me that I take our climate for granted too much especially when I complain about the heat. And each time I would tell him that I never take it for granted, I love the heat, it just happened to be too warm and beachless in Manila.

I usually ask people what they prefer, a warm sunny day or an overcast sky that is not so warm. Most would prefer the latter, which I never understood really; I have always preferred the former. Without any doubt, I am a warm-blooded, beach loving, sun-burning tropical girl.

But like what my bestfriend said, she sure hopes she doesn't fall in love with a man from Antarctica because for sure she will follow him there. And that is what has happened to me (though not from Antarctica! Whew! ;). I don't regret it ofcourse, I accept whatever challenges come our way because I am old enough to know that you can't have it all...and that following your heart is NEVER not worth it (cheesy! ;).

There are things in life that don't go the way you had planned it, hence: The future is no longer what it used to be. It's the thought that family and friends are just there, no matter what timezone or distance they may be in ,who make you feel loved and supported that gets you through the tough times in life. For that, I will always be grateful.

Despite all the grayness, today gave me some joy. For the first time I dressed up in a tropical outfit not because I was in denial this time but because it was really warmer today! In class, I had even regretted not having worn a sleeveless shirt because the 3/4 see thru blouse seemed warmer what with the heater on in our room. What amazed me even more was that on the way home I didn't even have to wear my jacket, just a shawl over my neck and my sleeves still rolled up.

What excited me was the sight of people everywhere. It's amazing how a simple increase in temperature can bring the people out of their caves or wherever it is they're from. That sight gave me a momentary bout of happiness: hip-hoppers and rockers skateboarding in the skatepark, weirdos juggling on some side of the grassy park, students clustered and just studying, kiddies playing soccer or throwing disks, another group of what looked like college students playing some hi-tech game of "Siatong", friends bringing cases of beer (Yes, you read it right: CASES) to consume while sitting on the grass, and many more.

I say I am amazed by this because I just got so used to walking in the park alone towards our flat and meeting only one of two joggers or dog-walkers walking along the almost deserted park which is one of the biggest I've seen in Gent.

Today was an exception. Today was 14 degrees and today I actually SAW a lot of people in our park. The South Park or what they call the "Zuid Park". When I got home I immediately called A, who was in his room, and asked if he wanted to go to the park. It was the first acceptably "warm" day since I got here. I'd like to say he was as excited as I was. We immediately "packed" our stuff: he with his guitar and portable speakers and I with my frisbee disc, laptop (for music since I wasn't able to charge my ipod) and my multi-colored sarong. Yes, we were just going to the park but I was too excited and felt as if we were going to the beach. I was seriously tempted to bring my soccer ball and wear shorts too but thought it was too much ;P All that was lacking was "song hits", but then again, you can't have it all. We did have cans of beer though. What is a great Belgian climate without authentic Belgian beer after all?

Today was a good day. It was most certainly better than yesterday and the days before. The exceptional things a slight change in temperature can do.

To my family and friends, thank you for being there. To the sun, thank you for shining today and for keeping us warm. You might be busy heating up the rest of the world but it is now that I need you the most...and you delivered.

You are undoubtedly a natural high. You make my day...ofcourse, K too. ;P

Dikke knuffel (Big hugs),

Jacki

The Magritte Museum: My 2 cents worth retrospect

Brussels, Belgium
1500 hours
Date: Classified (hehe, I just wrote this for added effect)


Rene Magritte.

For commoners like me, he is known as the person who painted the "Man in the Bowler Hat with a green apple head" in one of ex-James Bond's more popular movies "The Thomas Crown Affair".

Now, to take my common knowledge about this man to a higher level and to bring my ignorance to a lower level, I did a bit of research before visiting the museum, and this is what I found out: René François Ghislain Magritte is a Belgian who had lived 68 "art-full" years in Belgium and in France, visiting the US a couple of times as he had 2 solo exhibitions there during his lifetime. He was the eldest of 3 sons, his father was a tailor, his mom was a milliner (ofcourse, I didn't know what a "milliner" was and I didn't have time to look this up yesterday before we left (*wink*) but now, interestingly, as I looked it up and contrary to my initial silly fantasies that it might have been a typo or that it was the Filipino pronunciation for the word "millionaire", a milliner is a word that originated from Milan, Italy referring to someone who designs, makes, trims, and sells women's hats).

Hmmm...interesting...

The Museum allocated 3 floors purely for the display of his life and works. For a staggering price the equivalent of 1 movie ticket (Belgian not Philippine) you can get a sneak peak into the life and works of one of the most influential painters of all time.

The tour starts on the 3rd floor down to the 1st, where the juicy paintings are. Just like what I read on wikipedia hours before (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rene_Magritte), pretty much everything about his life that is known was there as inscriptions on glass mounted on the walls. Everything that I remember reading was there except for that bit about him having supported himself during the time of the war by reproducing Picasso paintings, among others, and forging bank notes, having an affair with a surrealist model, and his wife also having an affair with another man and at one point filed for divorce. But well, this isn't E! Gossip, this is my retrospect of the Magritte Museum. Ehem...

At the entrance of the 3rd floor a disclaimer was given that out of respect for Magritte, they displayed his works and notes in their original version, French. If you did not understand French then it's your problem (the latter was not part of the disclaimer;). So as part of their respect for Magritte it wasn't really very nice to include something nasty about his past which was highly understandable. If I were Magritte I wouldn't want that either. Other people had bad hair days in the past, or terrible tastes in clothes, or just made bad decisions. He opted forgery to support himself in a time of crisis, when the Germans occupied Belgium during World War II. There is no shame in that, I guess. He just did what he was best at. For the other tidbits, hey...What else is new?

For a couple more Euros, the museum can provide you with a mobile phone looking device that, at the press of a button, can give you more anecdotes apart from what is visibly there, on whatever it is that you may be looking at. The titles of the paintings were in French, Dutch, and English, respectively. But well, if you can very well read and have no desire to join the Magritte Quiz Bee at the end of the tour, then a regular, savory walk through the museum would suffice. You may ofcourse, look for another patron who has one of those mobile phone looking devices and stand really close to him/her so you can also hear the audio free of charge. If it is not in YOUR desired language they might be kind enough to switch it to YOUR preference if you ask extra-nicely...all at your own risk--ofcourse.

At times, we wondered if they didn't accidentally (or intentionally) switch the titles of the pieces to make the visitors even more confused or wonder some more. But among the things that I like about Magritte, I appreciate the fact that he "said" this:

"My painting is visible images which conceal nothing; they evoke mystery and, indeed, when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable." --René Magritte (Yes, not really grammatically correct but that's okay)

In my stroll, the paintings evoked different feelings. Some made me say "huh?" or "eww!", some made me giggle or just stare, the last few creations especially made me marvel at his journey through painting and at the outcome of his endeavors. Truly, he had mastered the art and had improved on it quite noticeably, at the latter part of his career.

Despite all those feelings though, I did not once feel stupid. With some painters, you just know that there is an even deeper meaning to their work and you just look at it and wrack your brains just trying to figure out whatever underlying meaning there might be coz you want to seem smart but in the end, feel stupid if you don't get it. With Magritte, it was different. You didn't have to get anything. Just look at it and appreciate it because you dare not interpret it coz he himself indirectly said that you'll be stupid if you do.

But some of his mysteries I might have understood through my mini-research: His mother, who was a milliner, died when he was still young. She was suicidal and eventually succeeded at killing herself through drowning. They say that he was there when she was found on the river...that's why he chose to be a surrealist, coz he knows that she's dead and would just like to think at times that she was still there somehow and that is depicted in his paintings. They say that that's why some of his subjects are veiled in white sheets or that he paints this or he paints that.

Maybe that's why he paints bowler hats.

On another note, I read that contrary to popular belief, it was the bowler hat and not the cowboy hat that was the most popular hat in the American West. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bowler_hat)

Going back, it is not uncommon knowledge that it is our past that makes us who we are. And what we do defines us. Sometimes mysteries cannot just be left as it is..because people have a natural curiosity that needs to be fuelled with answers. With answers come appreciation or a sense of peace or fulfillment. Whatever tickles one's fancy.

Bottomline, Magritte is right: Things are not always what they seem...

Siberia (from the "Huis van het Nederlands" series)

After two weeks of Dutch school (10 more to go) I find myself drowning in Dutch. I am still stuck reading (out loud): De Walvis and De Piraat; and so far, cannot pride myself just yet as I can only grasp a handful of words like: Walvis-Whale, Piraat-Pirate, Zeepaardjes-Seahorse, Dolfijnen-Dolfin, een-one, er leefde eens-there once lived...

In my quest to learn Dutch I really wonder when I can incorporate these words in normal conversation: "So, you really have nice dolfijnens here in Belgium." "Oh! Look at that Piraat!" "What a cute zeepaardjes!"

Hmmm...I wonder when...but still, I will continue reading (with conviction): De Walvis en De Piraat (and no, this book is not a pop-up).

Another thing that made me say that I am drowning in Dutch is an incident that happened just this morning.

At the climbing/bouldering gym, I was reading a tarpaulin logo (reading signs out loud is something I try to form a habit of to practice pronunciation) AVVENTURA: Your Favourite Ski and Outdoor Shop. As I was mentally reading it, I was pronouncing "favourite" as "fah-voh-rit", which is the Dutch pronunciation. Immediately, I thought (and was quite confused): Is there a "Your" word in Dutch (and I could feel my head "The Matrix"-cally scanning my database for the Dutch possessive pronouns that we've learnt in class. It was only a couple of seconds later that I realized that the ad wasn't really in Dutch. It was in English. I can only blame the 9am Belgian indoor climate. After that, I drank my coffee.

We had our first major exam last Thursday. Upon getting our results on Friday I was so disappointed with myself. One mistake!?! I felt really frustrated. So far, I haven't heard of anybody who perfected the exam coz I was 30 minutes late for class (some things never change) and I didn't really have it in me to ask...but one mistake?? I felt that I was not only a student in the class but I represented my country as well in that now 15 person class. I am the only Filipina and the best I could do was a 19 over 20? My best friend was the Valedictorian and the best I could come up with was a 19 over 20?? What impression would the other nations have about me and my fellowmen???

Hahaha...even that new girl, L, from Siberia (who is now in the carpool with me and Mr. And Mrs. Count Dracula) got a 13! IF I had interpreted her language correctly. And she doesn't even speak English! Only Russian and German.

In class we have mastered the art of sign language and pictionary since most speak only a handful of English. I speak only a handful of Spanish, one Italian word, 7 French words, and no Russian--only the accent. They say that music is the universal language but please, let us not go there.

So I didn't initally know where L was from. I only know she is the only person in class who doesn't understand English AT ALL. So I asked her in Dutch, which has now become our "common" language, what her country was. Actually, if we had more time, we could devise a way of understanding each other with the use of Dutch numerics (een, twee, drie, vier...) as our lessons become more and more complicated and learning the language completely at the end of the "semester" has become bleaker and bleaker...

But still...I should not lose hope.

Anyway, I found out that L comes from Siberia. I was shocked! I asked her what the temperature was in Siberia. She didn't know how to say it so she wrote it on paper: -50 (celsius).

Huwaaaat???? Do I thank my lucky stars now that my near death experience here was a measly -5 degrees with wind?? For a moment there I became ashamed of myself. I always find it amusing how when I tell people that in my country 22 degrees is already cold they become quite shocked. Ha! It becomes their turn to be amazed.

I told her that it's common in the movies that Siberia is depicted as a place being really cold. Ofcourse, I told her that in the simplest English I could come up with. But I don't even know why I'm bothering as she doesn't understand it at all. She understands me more with my eyes and hand gestures. If I spoke in Visayan I bet she couldn't tell the difference. Hmmm...come to think of it, maybe I should try it. hehe *wink*

And well, I found out that they still go to school in Siberia and it's rare that classes get suspended in the 1 meter of snow. Go figure how they used to go to school in her time. But in the summer they are blessed with temperatures that go to a whopping 2 degrees! Woopie.

I should stop whining and look forward to spring.

Jacki woont nog maar 9 dagen in Belgie (from the "Huis van het Nederlands series")

Today was another interesting day at school.

The title means: Jacki has only been in Belgium for 9 days...or something like that.

Our trainer, for some reason, doesn't call on me often. Now, she calls on May a lot (the Thai girl), the Italian girl, the Americans ofcourse (I even think she has a thing for this other American guy--not the one that looks like Jack Black (refer to previous blog) and three new delegates of our United Nations group: a girl from Nicaragua and a couple from (wait lemme look at my notes first)--Chechenia. I honestly don't know where that country is (I do know Czech Republic and Russia and Croatia) and I think that's the country that CNN used to report about all the time with oorlog (war) and bombings. I think they pronounced it as "Shesh-nee-yah" in CNN but that guy pronounced it differently for sure. I'll google that later. Ofcourse, I didn't want to offend them by asking where their country was. hehe

Anyways, so here was our trainer chatting away in gibberish again when after a couple of questions and answers from my classmates, our trainer asked me the same question:

"Jacki, hoe lang woon jiy in Belgie?"

Literally translated as: How long live you in Belgium?

(and this is the punchline) I answered in the perfect Belgian accent: Ik woon 9 dagen in Belgie.

Kaching! Kaching! Kaching! Points for Jacki *dance around in circles*

Our trainer was shocked and ofcourse I couldn't understand her dutch afterwards but I did get the "Prima!" (Perfect) and "Heel goed!" (Very good) and a your Dutch is already very "mooi" (Beautiful) even if I'm "woont nog maar 9 dagen in Belgie".

Ehem. Enough said. What she didn't know is that I've been trying to learn it for months now through pimsleur and ofcourse, K: my personal trainer. hehe Shhh!

The Spanish girl was still lost but it's quite funny how when we were at the "Are you married? divorced? single?" part they had a hard time explaining to her what "getrouwd" (married) meant and she suddenly said: "Kasal?". I instantly had an impulse to say, "Mao!" or "Tsakto na!". hehehe I didn't know "kasal" was Spanish. The things you learn...

Last funny part: "Woon je samen? Ja, met mijn vriendin / vriend."

Translation: Are you living with someone? Yes, with my friend.

Our trainer was explaining the difference between vriendin and vriend. Apparently she wasn't quite clear about her explanation because she said that both are used for friends or partners but nothing specific for boyfriend or girlfriend (based on our understanding of her dutch).

So I uttered: So, vriendin can be used by gays?

And our trainer was a bit shocked and said: Nee, niet gays...just friends. hahaha

I just found that funny.

On my way home (I was actually dreading the 30min walk home in the rain. I try to stay away from buses for the meantime considering my traumatic, near death experience (haha exag!) last week), I passed by Nadia, the Russian hot mama, who was smoking on the sidewalk. We got into a short conversation (she had a very interesting Russian accent) and she told me that I could come along with her "zeenz her huzzbund eez peeking her op" and anyway zey alzoh leev at zee ozzer zide of our sztreet (that is not a foreign language but just my interpretation of what she sounded like). I was delighted by the invitation. :)

When her husband arrived we got into the car and it was like a cross between Mr. and Mrs. Richie Rich (Part 1) and Count Dracula. She and her husband, who is Belgian, call each other "My Dear" and she looked a little like Mrs. Rich what with her blond hair, make up, and white coat. They both looked so sweet together and spoke with the Count Dracula accent.

I think the next couple of weeks will be quite interesting.

No headaches today and no class tomorrow. Here in Belgium there are no classes on Wednesday. Woopie!

Huis van het Nederlands / The House of Dutch: My First Day of "School"

My turn to be a trainee instead of a trainer.

Yesterday was my first day of Dutch school. I was planning on bringing my laptop but I wanted to see first how the "environment" was. I didn't want to seem too geeky or intimidating. hehehe so I just brought with me a pad...and my barbie doll pencilcase (don't ask).

Well, there were 12 of us in the class. Some coming from Turkey, Russia, Italy, USA, Tunisia, Thailand, France, Peru, and ofcourse, one delegate from the Philippines. It was quite interesting actually...just like a mini United Nations thing. Next thing you know we'll be discussing world cultures and stuff like that. ;P

Maybe once a trainer always a trainer. The moment the introductions started I wrote down my co-trainees' names and where they were from. haha I noted that our trainer didn't do that so during the course of the class, she had to ask for our names over and over again and only called on those whose names she remembered. Apparently, with a bit of bitterness, she found it hard to remember my name and my Thai seatmate's name: May. Duh? :)

At the end of the 3 hour session I had a nasty headache. I dunno if it was because our trainer spoke in Dutch all the time and gave me the impression that she did not really have a very good command of the English language, coz seriously, she would just speak in Dutch ALL THE TIME. Yeah, she would translate a word or two in English every 30mins or so but jeez! You should have seen the look on our faces. My Thai seatmate on the left was like: "Wha doo wee doo agehn? Wha dus dah mean? I dow undahstan..." and my French seatmate to my right just had a blank look on her face and just spoke French most of the time coz even English she wasn't very good at. I would ask her every now and then if she was okay and she just had this pained look on her well made face. But I think I pity the Spanish girl the most coz all she kept saying was: Nee comprende. I agree, it was very difficult to internalize things if all you focus on are her actions and try to make sense of the words through her gestures.

But then again, that is still Day 1. Maybe I'm just used to Pimsleur (www.pimsleur.com) that translates everything in English and explains a bit about Dutch grammar rules. And repetition is very essential.

Oh, I forgot to mention the fact that the 3 Americans, well one in particular who resembled Jack Black a lot, were just so annoying. Maybe it's because my competitive mode button was turned on. He just kept on participating and pronouncing words incorrectly like English for example. In Dutch English is "Engels" pronounced "Eh-nguls" but they just kept on pronouncing it as "Eng-gulls". Well, the Tagalog might pronounce it as "Eng-gel" or Visayans as "Eng-gol" haha but that's another story. ;P

The trainer was not also very particular with pronunciation. Tsk tsk tsk. Even after mispronouncing English she would still say "Prima!" which means "Perfect". :)

But then again, I should always think that it was still Day 1. They say that in learning a language, "immersion" is the key. So I will stop writing now (more like whining actually) and start with home study so I get a heads up...just don't tell them that. *wink*

P.S. I was the only one in class wearing 3 layers of clothing. So embarassing. ;P