Greeting from a country on hold. Today Belgium celebrates All Saints Day, tomorrow All Souls Day, so the streets and the offices are empty. We at the representation follow the Finnish calendar so we stay put at the office, in my case mainly communicating with Finnish colleagues and preparing for the coming week.
Life is getting as settled as it can. My new home is with a
Finnish-Cameroonian family in the nice municipality of Woluwe St.
Pierre. The family has 3 kids between 3 months and 9 years of age. In addition, the house is the home of an
au pair and an intern at the European Commission, both Finnish girls. It's a
busy house with somebody always at home and three languages constantly in use. I was personally extremely happy to have found a
place for the resting 2 months. The people are nice, the public
transport works well and I have my own space and privacy. What I
especially enjoy is that the father plays his guitar and sings blues
every now and then. Blues can make me very dreamy, so I'm sometimes in a
wonderful state of mind.
The episode with Mhamed didn't get an ending. On Thursday, when we were
supposed to meet, I started calling him after waiting for half an hour.
He was on his way. Next call, he was with a friend. Next call, he was in
the nearby metro station. Next call, he was in a completely different
part of town. At that point Mhamed was super drunk already and I was
quite certain that all the cash he had had with him, was gone. After 2h
of waiting for him, I went home.
I left Mhamed a very serious voice mail, saying I would call him on
Friday and that I would come where ever he was. I called him from the
office with another intern listening as well, in case I misinterpret
something. After a long, confusing and frustrating conversation I had an
address and directions that made sense. After the call the intern who
was with me commented that Mhamed is a total nutcase. Well... yes. My hopes weren't really high up but I went to this place. I called him that
I'm downstairs, he said he was coming down. 15 min later I called him again
but I didn't understand much of what he's trying to say anymore. The
third call got through but the only thing I heard was loud Moroccan
music. After that he didn't answer me anymore.
Now I'm done. He still has my money and there is a fat chance that I'll
ever get it. I sent Mhamed an email with easy instructions how he could
still leave me the money and that I don't want to have problems with
him. I doubt this has any effect but curiously new, almost bitchy, sides
of me are emerging (for the record, bitchy is a word that is hopefully
seldom associated with me). Anyhow, revenge is sweet. I have Mhamed's
passwords to his email and to Facebook, I have a photo of him, a color
printer and some knowledge about where he usually goes. So, if I don't
hear anything from him, I'll go on a personal crusade and blacken his
reputation or at least what's left of it. Exploring new sides of
myself. It's a bit scary, though, if I can actually do something
consciously evil. We'll see.
No matter what the outcome, I would most likely do everything all over
again. This has been so interesting, so obscure, so "educational" to me
that as an experience it's valuable. The only thing is that I could
strangle Mhamed with my bare hands for all the hours I've been standing outside waiting
for him, first waiting countless hours for Mhamed to come
and open the door to my home (the record was 3h), then waiting for him
to come to a meeting that he himself proposed. I strongly dislike people
being late for no excuse. That's the Finn in me talking.
In any case, from now on I'll move on to happier things. I've been
noticing a worrysome change of tone in my speech, almost a kind of
negativity. It's time to get rid of that and get the old Hanna back.
Hello world, I'm all yours!