continuation from previous post
E had an interesting comment about B. She said that he is full of dreams and adventures. “The dreams are here,” pointing to her forehead, “and the adventures are here,” pointing to the back of her head, “and they all just kind of meet in the middle.” I think she’s got him down.
Oh, I should have mentioned when talking about F’s drawings – he said that when he meets someone, their energy enters him and it has to come out somehow, so he draws. E took our address – she couldn’t guarantee it, but he might draw something of us. We had a hard time leaving and we took some pictures together. F said that as he gets older, everything in his life is coming back to him.
From there we started driving to meet the girls, B’s daughters. B said that he needed to get gas and I looked over and saw that the needle was below “E”. He would have difficulty because today was Sunday and the gas stations would not have cashiers – you had to have a special card to operate the pumps, which he didn’t have. I said, “you know, if you run out of gas it will make quite a story.” We laughed, remembering how he ran out of gas in the family’s diesel jeep on the night of his parents’ anniversary on our visit back in 1980. He said that if he runs out of gas it will be all right because he carries a gas can. I said, “oh, is there gas in it?” B paused and said, “that would be even better! I should do that!” Apparently, he’s run out of gas before – that’s the reason he carries a can – he had to buy it another time. We all laughed very hard. We found a gas station where a man was pumping gas, so B pulled up and asked him if he would pump us some gas if he gave him 10 Euros, which he did. It only got the needle a little bit above “E” but at least we were out of danger of running out of gas tonight. I just wanted to know how much it would cost to last us through Tuesday (when we would leave).
I saw a sign for Olen and wondered if it was the same as the story of “the farmers of Oolen”. B said it was – Olen is the modern spelling. So, we took a quick detour so that I could get my picture taken at the fountain with the 3-handled mug.
Background to get my DIS-readers caught up: when B stayed with us as an exchange student he brought a gift of a 3-handled mug from Oolen. The “farmers of Oolen”, were like the “blondes” of olden days. The story that went with the mug was that the king was going to visit the town and the farmers gathered in a pub to practice greeting him. So one farmer played the part of the king and entered the tavern and another farmer greeted him by handing him a mug of beer. But it was an unacceptable greeting because the greeter-farmer was holding the handle and the king would have nothing to grasp it by. So they devised a 2-handled mug and practiced again. The king-farmer entered and the greeter-farmer handed him the mug of beer, with his arms straight out, gripping the handles with both hands. Again, the king-farmer had nothing to grasp it by. So they devised a 3-handled mug, but there was no time to practice again before the king arrived. That’s okay they thought. Since the mug has 3 handles and the greeter only has 2 hands, how could we go wrong? When His Majesty arrived, he entered the pub and the nervous greeter offered him the 3-handled mug of beer with his arms straight out, gripping 2 handles. But the 3rd handle was on the side of the mug that faced the greeter, not the king, so the king hand to reach over the top of the mug, take hold of the 3rd handle and drink it with his arm reaching awkwardly over his head.
On the way to meet the girls we talked and learned that B had taken skydiving and flying lessons. I said that that’s a good order to do it in. He said he had a pretty crazy instructor who had been in six crashes – none fatal, and none while he was a student. He said that after the first time B landed the airplane, shifting left and right, up and down, the instructor wanted B to fly solo, but B said, “are you crazy?!”
We commented on how all of the houses are made of bricks. B said that there’s an expression that Belgians are born with a brick in their stomach. They usually build a house and stay there for their lifetimes. We talked some about his business adventures and missed opportunities – someone had told him of some properties in Antwerp that he could have bought a few years ago for a fraction of their value now, also something similar in South Africa near the end of Apartheid when white businessmen were unsure of the future. He said that he’s always in the right place, at the right time, with the wrong money.
We stopped and took pictures of the restaurants B used to own. First we stopped in front of one he owned with a former girlfriend – this was the one he owned most recently. She wanted to run a restaurant and it would help him stay close to his daughters. But, now the relationship is over and so is his involvement in the restaurant. Then, we stopped in front of the restaurant he owned with his ex-wife, C. She too, had been the one who wanted to own a restaurant, and she still runs it. It looked really nice and it must be doing well.
On to meet the girls. B dropped us off at the restaurant and then went to pick up the girls since we all couldn’t fit into his car. It was a place that served Egyptian food – for putting in a pita – with or without the pita. I forget the name of this type of food, but it’s kind of a fad in Belgium, as we saw several places like it. B and the girls came in about twenty minutes or so. They’re beautiful and a little shy with us strangers. E2 is the oldest, 16. (They don’t learn to drive until 18 in Belgium.) She sings and plays the piano. I is 14 and wants to be a movie star. J is 12 and is the artist of the bunch. It is obvious that B adores them. E2 wants to study in the U.S. through an exchange program like her father did. I suggested she stay with G (one of my sisters), who is a choir teacher, since she has an interest in music. (Now I have to tell G!) All the girls act, once a week, in an after-school club. I told them that G’s roommate’s cousin is Phillip Seymour Hoffman, who just won the Oscar for Best Actor. It didn’t really register with them, then after a while B asked how many of those do they give out a year? Then he was impressed. He asked a couple of times what movie he was in. I told the girls we had connections, although we’ve never met the guy.
The girls had seen their blanket-gifts in the car on the ride in, and liked them very much. I asked the girls who had a boyfriend. They said that none of them did. I commented that when B lived with us in the U.S. I was about J’s age, and when I visited Belgium in 1980 I was about I’s age. E2 has braces, as I did when I visited Belgium, and no one here had seen them before – they thought that I wore them as a style thing, for vanity or fashion.
We had a really nice time with them, then had to say goodbye so that they could work on homework and study – E2 had a math test the next day.
On the drive back to Antwerp B got a call from C (his ex-wife), then she wanted to talk to me. She said, “Glenn, you promised to come to the restaurant!” (We had only stopped outside.) We explained that we only had one day left and were going on a day-trip to Amsterdam tomorrow, but could come to the restaurant if someone could pick us up, because B had to work until 8:00 pm. B talked to her and they worked out that we would meet C and her new guy tomorrow for dinner in Antwerp. We were just sorry if we were the cause of any additional strife, and that our last dinner in Belgium wouldn’t be with B.
When we got back to the hotel Judy and I went for a walk at about 10:30 pm to get oriented with where we were, since it was a different hotel.
We found a place to get french fries (pomme frittes) even though we were full – it would be our only chance! I said to Judy, “you have to eat these!” She had wanted to work up to trying them with mayonnaise, but there was no time, these would be our only ones, since our day tomorrow was fully scheduled. They were amazing and Judy liked them too.
She thought it was really neat retracing some steps and experiences I had as a boy and got a little teary-eyed when we were back at the hotel.
Link to next chapter
I was thinking the same thing...I love their stuff, but it's way out of my price range....they do have some great smelling perfume in the UK at WS.
Burberry is a British company. My Mom is obsessed with their stuff...don't ask.
