Wanna guess what happened?
Apparently some of you are experiencing the same problems as I am, we can't comment on anything. But, feel free to send me a line on Facebook or an e-mail if your imagination is flowing. I'll tell you tomorrow what happened :P
torstai 27. lokakuuta 2011
Temporary relief
Greetings from a new home! I'm sitting on my bed, watching out the window to a peaceful street in a nice, very Belgian neighborhood and feeling relaxed. My mum and brother came to visit me last week and we explored a bit of the Dutch countryside, riding roller-coasters and eating cheese. Now, back in Brussels, my folks safely in Finland, I feel it surely is time to rest.
The move-out-move-in went quite well in the end. Now I have a key to my new place and all my things in one place so it's good. In 30 minutes I'm meeting Mhamed again. We haven't had contact since last Thursday when I was kicked out. Then we agreed that I'd call him this weeks Thursday, which I did, and now we're meeting so that he would give me back my money. I have no idea what's going on with him, no doubt it shall be interesting hearing all the stories he has to tell this time.
I'm not really sure what to expect of this encounter. On the phone Mhamed said we should have a cup of coffee - I'm just worried that's because he need to explain how tough his life is and how he still doesn't have the money. Mhamed isn't by the way apparently making an effort anymore with his talking. He has somehow stopped speaking in full sentences and in stead speaks out randomly chosen words and fills out the blanks with gestures. On the phone for natural reasons that doesn't work so I felt quite stupid asking excuse me after everything he said. What a weird guy.
Last week I wrote to the local authority that helps foreigners in Brussels about this issue, mainly considering possible lost of money, identity theft and my name getting mixed up in thing I don't know about. They called me on Tuesday, basically saying that "Bad luck with the money, next time don't pay in advance", "You shouldn't worry about identity theft" and "What possible harm could come of this afterwards?". Gee, thanks.
So, now I'm off to see what more surprises lay ahead. Wish me luck!
The move-out-move-in went quite well in the end. Now I have a key to my new place and all my things in one place so it's good. In 30 minutes I'm meeting Mhamed again. We haven't had contact since last Thursday when I was kicked out. Then we agreed that I'd call him this weeks Thursday, which I did, and now we're meeting so that he would give me back my money. I have no idea what's going on with him, no doubt it shall be interesting hearing all the stories he has to tell this time.
I'm not really sure what to expect of this encounter. On the phone Mhamed said we should have a cup of coffee - I'm just worried that's because he need to explain how tough his life is and how he still doesn't have the money. Mhamed isn't by the way apparently making an effort anymore with his talking. He has somehow stopped speaking in full sentences and in stead speaks out randomly chosen words and fills out the blanks with gestures. On the phone for natural reasons that doesn't work so I felt quite stupid asking excuse me after everything he said. What a weird guy.
Last week I wrote to the local authority that helps foreigners in Brussels about this issue, mainly considering possible lost of money, identity theft and my name getting mixed up in thing I don't know about. They called me on Tuesday, basically saying that "Bad luck with the money, next time don't pay in advance", "You shouldn't worry about identity theft" and "What possible harm could come of this afterwards?". Gee, thanks.
So, now I'm off to see what more surprises lay ahead. Wish me luck!
perjantai 21. lokakuuta 2011
The Move-out
I’ve been laughing a lot these past few days. Not for any other reason than the absurdity of my situation. Dad said that he
has been very pleased that this time I decided to stay in Europe, where
it’s safe and secure. Hah! I’ve travelled and lived in the Americas and
in Asia, but the moment I settle in another European country I face the most threatening situation so far. There you see, you can
live most peacefully in a country with serious insecurity and the
misfortunes can find you anywhere, even when you feel most at ease.
Thursday was supposed to be my move-out day. The plans changed and I asked if I could stay with Mhamed Thursday night as well, and then on Friday morning I’d go. Okay, yes, sure. We had also agreed earlier that because I only lived in the apartment for one month, that he would return me the 320€ I paid extra. Having little confidence in that he actually would return my money, I had seriously a plan of taking his small flat screen TV as a deposit. I know that that would most likely be regarded as theft but what wouldn’t a young woman do if she's short on money and has no guarantee of payment?
I had packed some of my things earlier so that I would take them to the office and avoid carrying a very heavy suitcase. On Thursday morning I was leaving for work with my smaller bag. Mhamed strongly urged me, almost commanded me to take my computer with me. The little I was able to make out of his talk was that somebody was coming to the apartment and that he didn’t want any trouble for me. That’s when I packed everything of the slightest value in my bag and left the apartment, hoping that I would be reunited with the rest of my stuff in the near future.
Later the same day I returned home. Mhamed hadn’t answered my text messages (he knows how to read and send messages now), so I was a bit worried if he would be home. He was. When he opened the front door, what I saw was a huge pile of suitcases, a tense Mhamed and my own suitcase by the door. I asked what was going on. Mhamed, in an almost angry way, said that everything’s finished and that I have to go now. As evidence of that he wasn't joking, he pointed at my suitcase and said that he had packed all my things already and that there was nothing in my room anymore. Quite determined I made my way to my room and the kitchen to see if it was true. Yes, all my cupboards and closets were empty and it seemed that everything, even my underwear and my dirty clothes, were in the bags by the front door.
Also Mhamed's room was fairly empty. All the books, the computer, everything except for the furniture was gone or in the suitcases. Mhamed was leaving the apartment as well. It seemed unclear even for him where he would go but next week he would maybe have a chance to stay at the psychiatric department outside Brussels (did I tell you about that he has regular appointments with a psychiatrist?).
In his very confusing and illogical way of speaking he told me that his sister was sitting in jail at the moment for something that had to do with drugs, I think. Apparently it was the police that had come today to the apartment, taking possession of his things for unpaid debts. He would meet the police on Friday again. Mhamed also said that there were drugs in the apartment but it remained unclear if the police had found it. (Here I have to bring forth my suspicion of the “police” actually being some gang, a Moroccan gangster or something of that sort.).
So, there was no TV to claim my own nor time to take one last photo of my dear flatmate. Mhamed was very persistent with me leaving and carried half of my things out on the street. He kept repeating that he’ll never again do this cohabitation because he didn’t want me in trouble for things that he’s doing. This part I actually believed. So, there I stood, 9 o’clock in the evening, with 4 bags, alone and laughing at what just had happened. This was probably the fastest move-out I’d ever had. I didn’t even have to pack myself! Fate had apparently decided that things should go smooth, because a few hours earlier an intern at my workplace had at her own initiative said that I could stay with her for the night if things went bad. Well, they did, so I called my savior and got a taxi to her place. There I got a warm welcome, tea, a bed and a person who listened to my version of the evening’s events.
As I said in the beginning, this has been mainly funny for me. People who have heard about my misfortunes have commented that I seem surprisingly calm and relaxed. It’s actually quite simple to take things lightly when both my body and my possessions remain intact (well, to some extent at least). Mhamed did not want no harm to me nor did I feel at danger at any moment. Now it remains to be seen what the next chapter with Mhamed contains.
Thursday was supposed to be my move-out day. The plans changed and I asked if I could stay with Mhamed Thursday night as well, and then on Friday morning I’d go. Okay, yes, sure. We had also agreed earlier that because I only lived in the apartment for one month, that he would return me the 320€ I paid extra. Having little confidence in that he actually would return my money, I had seriously a plan of taking his small flat screen TV as a deposit. I know that that would most likely be regarded as theft but what wouldn’t a young woman do if she's short on money and has no guarantee of payment?
I had packed some of my things earlier so that I would take them to the office and avoid carrying a very heavy suitcase. On Thursday morning I was leaving for work with my smaller bag. Mhamed strongly urged me, almost commanded me to take my computer with me. The little I was able to make out of his talk was that somebody was coming to the apartment and that he didn’t want any trouble for me. That’s when I packed everything of the slightest value in my bag and left the apartment, hoping that I would be reunited with the rest of my stuff in the near future.
Later the same day I returned home. Mhamed hadn’t answered my text messages (he knows how to read and send messages now), so I was a bit worried if he would be home. He was. When he opened the front door, what I saw was a huge pile of suitcases, a tense Mhamed and my own suitcase by the door. I asked what was going on. Mhamed, in an almost angry way, said that everything’s finished and that I have to go now. As evidence of that he wasn't joking, he pointed at my suitcase and said that he had packed all my things already and that there was nothing in my room anymore. Quite determined I made my way to my room and the kitchen to see if it was true. Yes, all my cupboards and closets were empty and it seemed that everything, even my underwear and my dirty clothes, were in the bags by the front door.
Also Mhamed's room was fairly empty. All the books, the computer, everything except for the furniture was gone or in the suitcases. Mhamed was leaving the apartment as well. It seemed unclear even for him where he would go but next week he would maybe have a chance to stay at the psychiatric department outside Brussels (did I tell you about that he has regular appointments with a psychiatrist?).
In his very confusing and illogical way of speaking he told me that his sister was sitting in jail at the moment for something that had to do with drugs, I think. Apparently it was the police that had come today to the apartment, taking possession of his things for unpaid debts. He would meet the police on Friday again. Mhamed also said that there were drugs in the apartment but it remained unclear if the police had found it. (Here I have to bring forth my suspicion of the “police” actually being some gang, a Moroccan gangster or something of that sort.).
So, there was no TV to claim my own nor time to take one last photo of my dear flatmate. Mhamed was very persistent with me leaving and carried half of my things out on the street. He kept repeating that he’ll never again do this cohabitation because he didn’t want me in trouble for things that he’s doing. This part I actually believed. So, there I stood, 9 o’clock in the evening, with 4 bags, alone and laughing at what just had happened. This was probably the fastest move-out I’d ever had. I didn’t even have to pack myself! Fate had apparently decided that things should go smooth, because a few hours earlier an intern at my workplace had at her own initiative said that I could stay with her for the night if things went bad. Well, they did, so I called my savior and got a taxi to her place. There I got a warm welcome, tea, a bed and a person who listened to my version of the evening’s events.
As I said in the beginning, this has been mainly funny for me. People who have heard about my misfortunes have commented that I seem surprisingly calm and relaxed. It’s actually quite simple to take things lightly when both my body and my possessions remain intact (well, to some extent at least). Mhamed did not want no harm to me nor did I feel at danger at any moment. Now it remains to be seen what the next chapter with Mhamed contains.
keskiviikko 19. lokakuuta 2011
Murphy's law à la Mhamed
I'm sure most of us know a person who has constant bad luck. Whatever could go wrong, goes even worse. Murphy's law doubled. Mhamed is one of those people. The amount of drama in his life is incredible - also litterally incredible to some extent. "Normal" people have their problems, this week they're sick, next week they have a fight, after two months they have a deadline they cannot meet.. Well, with Mhamed this goes on a daily basis. It has become almost frightening returning home every day, waiting to hear what misfortune has touched Mhamed this time.
Most often Murphy doesn't have anything to do with our misfortunes, it's just our own behavior that leads to a destructive conclusion or it is our own perception of the reality that is off. Here are some examples. Bad luck: Mhamed most likely has bronchitis. Reality: He sits and sleeps in front of an open window but doesn't wear socks, shoes and a warm blouse. Bad luck: Mhamed has walked too much and has sore feet. Reality: He doesn't wear socks in his shoes. He justifies the whining and the complaints by showing his dirty feet, that are dirty only because he walks bare feeted at home. Bad luck: Mhamed has serious problems with his stomach and liver. Reality: He drinks at least a bottle of wine or vodka every evening. The deep fried food doesn't help either. Bad luck: Mhamed's clients don't always pay him. Reality: He works illegally as a translator etc so there are no contracts signed or taxes paid. He has the most dubious clients that don't have any money themselves either. If someone decides not to pay, there's not much to be done.
These are everyday issues here at the apartment. The most interesting misfortune of the week was a specific event. Twice we've had a Polish cleaning lady named Maria at our house (she's not cleaning my room or the bathroom, that's for sure,plus I've never seen her, so I actually don't know if she's an imaginary friend). Anyhow, on Friday she came again. When I returned home, Mhamed was waiting for me, sobbing and drying tears from his eyes. Maria's father had died accidentally in Poland. She had been crying here and Mhamed, being [quote] a humanitarian, felt utterly bad for her. He was panting, crying, making weird noises and kept on saying how Maria needed him and how he needed to go to the funeral in Poland. Me reacting to everything Mhamed says nowdays in disbelief (seriously, how could this too have happened?), closed my door and ignored him the rest of the evening.
On Saturday I was going to catch a flight to Montpellier (return ticket 92e, gotta love Ryanair..), so I had planned to leave home at 7.30. At 6.05 by bedroom door flies open and in comes Mhamed, notably uneasy and a bit out of this world. He opens all doors, turns on all lights, prepares a bath for himself and throws some of the content of his warderobe on the floor. I, half sleeping, inquire what the hell is going on. "Maria needs me!", "I have to go and help Maria!", "I need to go to Poland!". Right.
I pointed out that A) this was not his problem, B) he did not have the money to go to Poland and C) he owed me my one months rent. His response was an illogical story of how he's a humanitarian, how he is like Mother Teresa (he's done that comparison a couple of times already) and how people are more important than money. Then he made several phone calls, also to Maria. Those calls ended quite quick so I'm not all too convinced that Maria was even aware of "how much she needed him". Poor woman, I thought, having her father die and then, on top of everything, having a disturbed person calling at 6 am.
Then Mhamed walked around, talked to himself, made some very weird noises while bathing that resembled those of a horse, made a circus out of choosing clothes and talked to me, perfectly unaware of my attempts to have a few more minutes of rest. Why bother. The entire situation was mainly funny in all its incredibility, so I was somewhat amused, at least until Mhamed couldn't find his socks and decided to look for them in my drawer. That's it, enough. So we got him clothed and ready. By the time I was leaving to the airport, he wanted to lend 20e. When I refused and reminded him about his debt to me, he made it very clear in a non-verbal way that I was no humanitarian.
I was somewhat worried if I could return to my Brussels home on Tuesday evening. Fortunately, Mhamed was home, gloomy. He said he had just returned an hour earlier from Prague (?!?!) where the funeral was held. I have some serious doubts about that he went anywhere in the first place but why he would tell that, I don't know. As I told you earlier, there isn't too much logick about him so this just adds up to the reasons why I'm out of here! I'll be moving on Thursday, again. Mhamed mentioned that briefly just a moment ago, saying that this [quote] beautiful dream will come to an end. At that point I had a hard time keeping my act together. It's been a dream alright!
I do feel a bit bad about telling so negative things about Mhamed. After all, despite all his flaws he stll is a person that wants no harm to me. But, people have been worried about me so it is better that I tell how things lie in stead of keeping people guessing. Also, the situation in all its absurdity is something that only very few come across with, so hopefully this will serve as a Lessons Learned for some.
Take care of yourselves - so will I.
Most often Murphy doesn't have anything to do with our misfortunes, it's just our own behavior that leads to a destructive conclusion or it is our own perception of the reality that is off. Here are some examples. Bad luck: Mhamed most likely has bronchitis. Reality: He sits and sleeps in front of an open window but doesn't wear socks, shoes and a warm blouse. Bad luck: Mhamed has walked too much and has sore feet. Reality: He doesn't wear socks in his shoes. He justifies the whining and the complaints by showing his dirty feet, that are dirty only because he walks bare feeted at home. Bad luck: Mhamed has serious problems with his stomach and liver. Reality: He drinks at least a bottle of wine or vodka every evening. The deep fried food doesn't help either. Bad luck: Mhamed's clients don't always pay him. Reality: He works illegally as a translator etc so there are no contracts signed or taxes paid. He has the most dubious clients that don't have any money themselves either. If someone decides not to pay, there's not much to be done.
These are everyday issues here at the apartment. The most interesting misfortune of the week was a specific event. Twice we've had a Polish cleaning lady named Maria at our house (she's not cleaning my room or the bathroom, that's for sure,plus I've never seen her, so I actually don't know if she's an imaginary friend). Anyhow, on Friday she came again. When I returned home, Mhamed was waiting for me, sobbing and drying tears from his eyes. Maria's father had died accidentally in Poland. She had been crying here and Mhamed, being [quote] a humanitarian, felt utterly bad for her. He was panting, crying, making weird noises and kept on saying how Maria needed him and how he needed to go to the funeral in Poland. Me reacting to everything Mhamed says nowdays in disbelief (seriously, how could this too have happened?), closed my door and ignored him the rest of the evening.
On Saturday I was going to catch a flight to Montpellier (return ticket 92e, gotta love Ryanair..), so I had planned to leave home at 7.30. At 6.05 by bedroom door flies open and in comes Mhamed, notably uneasy and a bit out of this world. He opens all doors, turns on all lights, prepares a bath for himself and throws some of the content of his warderobe on the floor. I, half sleeping, inquire what the hell is going on. "Maria needs me!", "I have to go and help Maria!", "I need to go to Poland!". Right.
I pointed out that A) this was not his problem, B) he did not have the money to go to Poland and C) he owed me my one months rent. His response was an illogical story of how he's a humanitarian, how he is like Mother Teresa (he's done that comparison a couple of times already) and how people are more important than money. Then he made several phone calls, also to Maria. Those calls ended quite quick so I'm not all too convinced that Maria was even aware of "how much she needed him". Poor woman, I thought, having her father die and then, on top of everything, having a disturbed person calling at 6 am.
Then Mhamed walked around, talked to himself, made some very weird noises while bathing that resembled those of a horse, made a circus out of choosing clothes and talked to me, perfectly unaware of my attempts to have a few more minutes of rest. Why bother. The entire situation was mainly funny in all its incredibility, so I was somewhat amused, at least until Mhamed couldn't find his socks and decided to look for them in my drawer. That's it, enough. So we got him clothed and ready. By the time I was leaving to the airport, he wanted to lend 20e. When I refused and reminded him about his debt to me, he made it very clear in a non-verbal way that I was no humanitarian.
I was somewhat worried if I could return to my Brussels home on Tuesday evening. Fortunately, Mhamed was home, gloomy. He said he had just returned an hour earlier from Prague (?!?!) where the funeral was held. I have some serious doubts about that he went anywhere in the first place but why he would tell that, I don't know. As I told you earlier, there isn't too much logick about him so this just adds up to the reasons why I'm out of here! I'll be moving on Thursday, again. Mhamed mentioned that briefly just a moment ago, saying that this [quote] beautiful dream will come to an end. At that point I had a hard time keeping my act together. It's been a dream alright!
I do feel a bit bad about telling so negative things about Mhamed. After all, despite all his flaws he stll is a person that wants no harm to me. But, people have been worried about me so it is better that I tell how things lie in stead of keeping people guessing. Also, the situation in all its absurdity is something that only very few come across with, so hopefully this will serve as a Lessons Learned for some.
Take care of yourselves - so will I.
tiistai 11. lokakuuta 2011
Instincts and experiences
Haha. Where to begin. Well, dad was here and about now he's landing in Helsinki. It was wonderful to have him here. We had a really nice time, road tripping in northern France and spontaneuously also in Holland. Renting a car might actually be my new big thing. The freedom,the countryside, the scenery, the authenticy of it all.. Aww, loving it. The worse part is the car. Even small scratches can end up costing dearly. Fines can double in amount because of the extra administrative charges the rental company demands. Any minor fault or misunderstanding - you pay. But still, driving past fields and farms is just wonderful, so if the company recognizes the risk that the 30e car rental can become a 730e + major stress load -day, then I'm all up for it.
Thankfully everything went well for us. My dad is a good driver and I'm good at reading maps so we explored a whole deal in 3 days. We stayed at a small B&B in the French countryside (more exactly Le 8 Bis in Saint-Gobain, Picardy), the house was built in 1780 and was renovated really nicely so it was worth a Tripadvisor recommendation. Coming back to Brussels the first time we we're very lucky to find a parking space just 5 blocks from my house. The second time we were lucky to spend only 2:15h in traffic in Brussels trying to get to the main train station. This was probably the first time I was caught in traffic this bad and also made me all less understanding for people who take their cars to the city centre. This morning I made almost the same journey with metro on 12 minutes.
Here in Brussels we stayed at my place. Mhamed was supposed to go to Köln for 5 days. Noup. When we came home from the airport with my dad he was waiting in front of the door, saying he locked himself out and left everything inside. His dodgy friend was also with him. That evening, or any other, they didn't go anywhere. This friend slept in Mhamed's bed (did I mention Mhamed regularly sleeps on a sofa?). Mhamed slept on the floor, coughing heavily all night. Well, now I got my first picture of Mhamed, here with my dad.
On Saturday we left for France. I leaft my key with Mhamed whose mother supposedly was coming over. On Sunday evening we came back, only to find Mhamed still here. He was extremely drunk, singing and dancing around, talking to himself, walking in and out of my room, suddenly shouting in arabic at the trash bin in the bathroom. He also (unfortunately) talked to my dad and also his girlfriend, convincing everybody that something is seriously loose in his head.
Apparently that same "friend" was sleeping on the sofa again. He was not reacting to any calls or pokes. Occasionally, when Mhamed regained logical consciousness, I managed to find out that the friend was someone who he would help on Monday in court for stealing a car. He was not responding because he was on methadone. Before passing out, he had drank my dad's beers and eaten his bananas that were in the kitchen. Mhamed on the other hand had had a big fight with his mother and his sister who is the owner of this apartment. Now the sister wants Mhamed out and me as well. She also kept the key I had lended to Mhamed.
You can imagine how happy I was that dad saw all of this. It hasn't been this bad earlier but this was just plain ridiculous. The worse part is that I don't have a key but instead a heck of job searching for yet another flat. This feels like failure in a sense because I had promised to myself that I will stay here the 3 months no matter what, just to prove that I could. Well, now it's just way too intense and just plain stupid for me to stay here anymore. I already have all my valuables at work. Sometimes pride just isn't worth it.
The little voice inside of me is saying "Told you so". I know. Coming here was all but a safe choise but you know me, I like the adventure. For sure, this has been a really interesting experience and it will be a funny memory to tell about later on. When I was saying goodbye to dad he said "Girl, I think you're even too courageous.", referring to my experiences abroad and now this. I know I have made many choises that have been risky and I'm very fortunate for not having me or my posession damaged. Whatever is looking after me has a hell of a job keeping me safe. I'll try to take better care - by finding a nice and calm flat for 2 more months in Brussels, to start with. But then again, my instincts tell me to carry on living and exploring life. I'll do that.
Thankfully everything went well for us. My dad is a good driver and I'm good at reading maps so we explored a whole deal in 3 days. We stayed at a small B&B in the French countryside (more exactly Le 8 Bis in Saint-Gobain, Picardy), the house was built in 1780 and was renovated really nicely so it was worth a Tripadvisor recommendation. Coming back to Brussels the first time we we're very lucky to find a parking space just 5 blocks from my house. The second time we were lucky to spend only 2:15h in traffic in Brussels trying to get to the main train station. This was probably the first time I was caught in traffic this bad and also made me all less understanding for people who take their cars to the city centre. This morning I made almost the same journey with metro on 12 minutes.
Here in Brussels we stayed at my place. Mhamed was supposed to go to Köln for 5 days. Noup. When we came home from the airport with my dad he was waiting in front of the door, saying he locked himself out and left everything inside. His dodgy friend was also with him. That evening, or any other, they didn't go anywhere. This friend slept in Mhamed's bed (did I mention Mhamed regularly sleeps on a sofa?). Mhamed slept on the floor, coughing heavily all night. Well, now I got my first picture of Mhamed, here with my dad.
On Saturday we left for France. I leaft my key with Mhamed whose mother supposedly was coming over. On Sunday evening we came back, only to find Mhamed still here. He was extremely drunk, singing and dancing around, talking to himself, walking in and out of my room, suddenly shouting in arabic at the trash bin in the bathroom. He also (unfortunately) talked to my dad and also his girlfriend, convincing everybody that something is seriously loose in his head.
Apparently that same "friend" was sleeping on the sofa again. He was not reacting to any calls or pokes. Occasionally, when Mhamed regained logical consciousness, I managed to find out that the friend was someone who he would help on Monday in court for stealing a car. He was not responding because he was on methadone. Before passing out, he had drank my dad's beers and eaten his bananas that were in the kitchen. Mhamed on the other hand had had a big fight with his mother and his sister who is the owner of this apartment. Now the sister wants Mhamed out and me as well. She also kept the key I had lended to Mhamed.
You can imagine how happy I was that dad saw all of this. It hasn't been this bad earlier but this was just plain ridiculous. The worse part is that I don't have a key but instead a heck of job searching for yet another flat. This feels like failure in a sense because I had promised to myself that I will stay here the 3 months no matter what, just to prove that I could. Well, now it's just way too intense and just plain stupid for me to stay here anymore. I already have all my valuables at work. Sometimes pride just isn't worth it.
The little voice inside of me is saying "Told you so". I know. Coming here was all but a safe choise but you know me, I like the adventure. For sure, this has been a really interesting experience and it will be a funny memory to tell about later on. When I was saying goodbye to dad he said "Girl, I think you're even too courageous.", referring to my experiences abroad and now this. I know I have made many choises that have been risky and I'm very fortunate for not having me or my posession damaged. Whatever is looking after me has a hell of a job keeping me safe. I'll try to take better care - by finding a nice and calm flat for 2 more months in Brussels, to start with. But then again, my instincts tell me to carry on living and exploring life. I'll do that.
perjantai 7. lokakuuta 2011
The busy me
Thank you for your birthday wishes! It is nice to be remembered, I guess that's what we all want in the end. Well, my birthday turned out to be a bit different. The day at work was long, it started earlier and ended later than normally. The other interns that I had invited for dinner worked even later than me and Mr. Mhamed called me crying that he was sick (by this rate there is almost nothing with him that could surprise me anymore). So I went to eat cake and a falafel. Then I walked around in the city in my high heel boots and felt beautiful. Later I spent some nice hours on Skype.
October always feels like my month although this week has been very intense at work. Big meetings coming up and 27 countries trying to find an agreement on issues regarding conflict zones in the Middle East and Africa. That equals long days. At the same time I'll be travelling significantly. Tomorrow my dad will come here and we'll spend a long weekend in France. The next weekend I'll go for some days to Southern France to Montpellier to visit a dear friend who's there in exchange (big meetings taking place here in Brussels so the meeting venues are all closed, so I'm on "forced" holiday). I'm back on Tuesday. On Friday my mum and my brother will come here. Over the weekend (I'm free on Monday again) we'll go exploring the Netherlands. They'll be here for almost a week.
I kind of promised to myself that this time in Brussels would be different, that I would relax more, sleep in on weekends and not try to explore and see everything. Well... I'll try that in November. After this month, I will without a doubt need a vacation. Sleep, a very light movie to watch and simple, unhealthy food that's easy to prepare. Mmm... Oh yeah, then comes the All Saints Day that's a national holiday and there are no meeting so I'm employless for two days again. I'm hoping I can use my extra hours to take entire days off and to go to the countryside here.
So now I'm trying to find a B&B in the Picardy region for my dad and me. I come in late, I leave early (and in the mean time help Mhamed, like today that I helped him to connect his computer to wireless internet and to change his photo on Facebook. I also showed him how to send an email :P He still doesn't know how to read text messages but it seems to be a big problem to tackle). In short, I highly appreciate your messages and I will get back to you who took the time to write me longer messages, it just wont be right away.
Thanks for being here!
October always feels like my month although this week has been very intense at work. Big meetings coming up and 27 countries trying to find an agreement on issues regarding conflict zones in the Middle East and Africa. That equals long days. At the same time I'll be travelling significantly. Tomorrow my dad will come here and we'll spend a long weekend in France. The next weekend I'll go for some days to Southern France to Montpellier to visit a dear friend who's there in exchange (big meetings taking place here in Brussels so the meeting venues are all closed, so I'm on "forced" holiday). I'm back on Tuesday. On Friday my mum and my brother will come here. Over the weekend (I'm free on Monday again) we'll go exploring the Netherlands. They'll be here for almost a week.
I kind of promised to myself that this time in Brussels would be different, that I would relax more, sleep in on weekends and not try to explore and see everything. Well... I'll try that in November. After this month, I will without a doubt need a vacation. Sleep, a very light movie to watch and simple, unhealthy food that's easy to prepare. Mmm... Oh yeah, then comes the All Saints Day that's a national holiday and there are no meeting so I'm employless for two days again. I'm hoping I can use my extra hours to take entire days off and to go to the countryside here.
So now I'm trying to find a B&B in the Picardy region for my dad and me. I come in late, I leave early (and in the mean time help Mhamed, like today that I helped him to connect his computer to wireless internet and to change his photo on Facebook. I also showed him how to send an email :P He still doesn't know how to read text messages but it seems to be a big problem to tackle). In short, I highly appreciate your messages and I will get back to you who took the time to write me longer messages, it just wont be right away.
Thanks for being here!
maanantai 3. lokakuuta 2011
Quarter of a century
My 25th birthday is next week. A quarter of a century. Always I feel very mature, only to later notice that I was very wrong back then. Adulthood is not yet mine but I surely like to act accordingly. Having the bad habit of giving impeccable advice to everybody who don't even ask for it is a good sign of that. The trick would be to accept that I'm not always right. That wouldn't be too fun though. So, even now that I feel grown up, I will be laughing so hard at some stupidities that race in my mind.
Someone asked my age last Friday and I automatically answered "25". Later I understood that this is probably the last time that I anticipate my birthday. Being 25 most people have what they want in life. They have money, they're active, they probably have a partner by then, they stil have a youthful appearance and they actually get taken seriously. 19 is a nice (and legal!) age too but frankly, in the long run it would be frustrating to be called a girl all the time.
Again I was reminded about how fragile life is. How grateful we should be to be able to celebrate our birthday and to celebrate the gift of life. In the end, are you any less of a person with the years? Are you any less attractive when in stead of the smoothness of your skin you have self-confidence and experice? No. The years should be appreciated as such and not hidden under a net of lies. I do hope that I never feel a true need to lie about my age. It would be like denying everything I am, like begging forgiveness for who I am and what I have lived. Great goal. The only problem is that I'm saying this now that I'm 24-years-old. My mind might change rapidly when gravity starts to have a serious effect on my body.
When I think of the wonderful birthday's I've had - cardboard hats for my guests, the several meringue cakes in our dining room, the cake for my 18th birthday, the first time in Marilyn in Turku, the action day me being blindfolded, La Doña, laser tag... Beautiful moments that I've shared with you. So what are the plans this time? Thrilling. Yay. Last week Mhamed announced me very proudly that we were to go to a Moroccan restaurant together with his mother (who btw only speaks Arabic). This could be quite so interesting that I'm actually going - not that I would have several better plans. Above all, this will be yet another memorable day.
On Thursday we'll go out with some new interns to Place du Luxembourg where the traditional and incredibly popular after work takes place. It's just a bunch of young people in suits drinking beer but still it's quite nice. Then on Friday my dad will come to visit me here. Yay!! Really happy to have him here. Plus we're renting a car and making a road trip either to the Netherlands or France for 3 days. When dad's gone, I'll meet a Finnish friend here etc. This is how life rolls on and I'm eager to see every day of it.
Someone asked my age last Friday and I automatically answered "25". Later I understood that this is probably the last time that I anticipate my birthday. Being 25 most people have what they want in life. They have money, they're active, they probably have a partner by then, they stil have a youthful appearance and they actually get taken seriously. 19 is a nice (and legal!) age too but frankly, in the long run it would be frustrating to be called a girl all the time.
Again I was reminded about how fragile life is. How grateful we should be to be able to celebrate our birthday and to celebrate the gift of life. In the end, are you any less of a person with the years? Are you any less attractive when in stead of the smoothness of your skin you have self-confidence and experice? No. The years should be appreciated as such and not hidden under a net of lies. I do hope that I never feel a true need to lie about my age. It would be like denying everything I am, like begging forgiveness for who I am and what I have lived. Great goal. The only problem is that I'm saying this now that I'm 24-years-old. My mind might change rapidly when gravity starts to have a serious effect on my body.
When I think of the wonderful birthday's I've had - cardboard hats for my guests, the several meringue cakes in our dining room, the cake for my 18th birthday, the first time in Marilyn in Turku, the action day me being blindfolded, La Doña, laser tag... Beautiful moments that I've shared with you. So what are the plans this time? Thrilling. Yay. Last week Mhamed announced me very proudly that we were to go to a Moroccan restaurant together with his mother (who btw only speaks Arabic). This could be quite so interesting that I'm actually going - not that I would have several better plans. Above all, this will be yet another memorable day.
On Thursday we'll go out with some new interns to Place du Luxembourg where the traditional and incredibly popular after work takes place. It's just a bunch of young people in suits drinking beer but still it's quite nice. Then on Friday my dad will come to visit me here. Yay!! Really happy to have him here. Plus we're renting a car and making a road trip either to the Netherlands or France for 3 days. When dad's gone, I'll meet a Finnish friend here etc. This is how life rolls on and I'm eager to see every day of it.
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