Gouda

Does anyone like that cheese? I do. I also remember that Canadian commercial where the mother gives money to the little boy to run and get her Gouda. That was a good one.

So guess who decided to drop in on Leuven? That's right...Gouda boys! They were tall, blonde, Dutch and well..from Gouda. That's a claim to fame if I ever heard one. I get such a kick out of tall, blonde people. Maybe because it is such a contrast to my short, dark haired tribe. Okay, that's pretty much it, we all just d&d'd all night (Drank and danced).

And Joanna-Gallagher-Look-Alike is actually a kleptomaniac. Not only does she try and steal every unlocked biked, and LITTER like crazy, but she steals random stuff from bars, like tablecloths and wigs and boas and coasters and glasses and basically anything that isn't nailed to the table.

Other then that, since she decided to go back to Ireland for a week for Halloween (I hate her now) I have decided to stay in a study and work on my presentation for Environmental Philosophy instead. But tmrw is Halloween and I am super excited! Even though no one here celebrates Halloween.....I can celebrate it. Dammit.

Anddddd I had another slut vs. nonslut conversation today with a Belgian, who was born in American.


He totally agrees with me. And I have a thesis for my argument now...

" North Americans value instant gratification, which leads to casual sexual behaviour, while Belgians value long-term gratification, which leads to serial monogomy over the short-lived amusement of a 'hook-up'.

OH...and can also be used to explain a lot of other cultural differences! Like the prevalence of Mcdonalds...

Language

I am learning so much about languages.

Not only Flemish, but all sorts of languages.

I grew up in Toronto, where people speak a million languages and broken English. This helps a lot in a forigen country where people have varying skills in English. But really...English really IS the lingua franca.

Actually...if I were to ask a Belgian a question in English on the street, they would probably respond with better English then if i had asked someone on the streets of Toronto.

It's also really clear which people speak English the best.

People from countries who dub television (France, Spain, Italy Germnay) have a harder time speaking English, especially with pronouciation and ease of speaking.

And its funny becuase the mistakes people made are obviously b/c of their own language.

Belgians always say "I teach from you" becuase they don't have a world for 'learn' as opposed to teach.

Italians always saw 'This night' instead of 'to night' or use the definite article (the) at inappropriate times.

it really makes me appreciate being a native english speak (as they call me).

But I still want to learn French, Spanish and Hebrew and Arabic.

Everyone already thinks I can speak french just because i am Canadian. They don't really get the whole "only the french are bilingual' thing.



I make it my business to know how to say ' i don't know this language'...in the language.

It has come in extreme usefulness.

Especially when people assume I am spanish or italian. (which happens like 7 times a day, even when I start speaking english)

Or when they are drunk and forget their english langauge skills.

here is what i can say so far (phonetic spelling) :

"Ik sprake hein nederlands, ik sprake alain engels' ( I dont speak dutch, i only speak english)

"no hablo espanol" ( i don't speak spanish)

"io noso parlele italiano" ( i dont speak italian)

"je ne parle pas francais" ( I dont speak french)

" ani lo medaberet ivrit" ( I dont speak hebrew)

"maquimo Daniella" ( ITA My name is Daniella -- not danielle, euro's can't pronounce danielle

"O dizanovi ani" (I am 19 years old )

"Studio philosophia" ( I study philosophy)

Salaam alokom "hello, arabic)


I know...I know..I'm a genuis..just come out and say it!


lately though I have been trying to put out a real effort to speak french. I have only been listing to French radio, French podcasts, learn french podcasts and sometimes even trying to translate the newspaper!

I enrolled in a class, but, ahem, keep skipping it. But its really boring since I am only in level one. I will start attending when it gets past "Je suis etudiante"


I understood my first Dutch sentence the other day! "Where is my bike?". I was so proud, esp. since I'm not studying Dutch. I would love to if it was more widely spoken and they didn't already all speak English perfectly!

But for Europeans it is so natural for everyone to AT LEAST be bilingual, but it is also common for people to speak 4 languages.

In N.A if you speak one and a half languages it is impressive.


But if I learn French..(somehow...it is so difficult!) at least I will be able to use it in Canada, since bilingual positions pay so much higher!

Oh and Biblical Hebrew, which I am also taking, will also come in handy.

sluuuuut

Whoops, I think I just gave a really bad impression of North America to Boy Next Door.

I was in the kitchen innocently eating apples and honey and for the first time in Belgium, I had a conversation about sexual activities. I think it was a breakthrough. Maybe I am finally beginning to be accepted!


I have no idea how it started, but generally Boy Next Door seems to be a little bit more.....loose then my other Belgian neighbours.

I told him about rainbow parties. Which he now thinks I have actually attended. Which, obviously I have not.


Then I tried to explain to him the 'culture of hooking up'. See, because everyone in Belgium is a serial monogomist, while everyone in North America is a serial slut.

I kinda think he wants to move to American now.

And I explained how in clubs in N.A ppl actually grind to rap music and shake their ass. Apparantly here, a Belgian girl would slap them.

This is such an unslutty country!!!


The girls here are tres buttoned up and the guys keep you at an arms length. Like omg, if I give you a hug it doesn't mean I want to blow you!
Even though blow jobs here are probably like the biggest deal ever. (They are for me, as well :))

So now they think everything they see in American movies is true. Which, speaking for Canada, it isn't. But...Americans friends, and two-a-days tell me they are pretty accurate for their country.

I was just trying to explain how the atmosphere is really differnet here. Even people from Ireland, Britian and Italy agree. There is no 'going on the pull' here (as Joanna-Gallagher-Look-Alike puts it)


And I think the best demonstration of how Belgian is more sexually reserved then Canada (minus the condom machines on the street) is that this was the first in depth conversation I've had about w/ Belgians!!!

So now he thinks I'm a huge slut. I tried to tell him that..um..I wasn't...but he actually doesn't believe me. But maybe in this country I am a slut. And that would be REALLY REALLLY SAD. Because I am giant NON slut. Fo real yo.


Now excuse me as I drink a bottle of Vino Rosso Biologico and be the slutty 'uncultured north american' that I am.



Quote of the day

"Maybe because they have none of their own culture they have to replace it with sex"

Random Belgian in my kitchen refering to Americans

" Girls either have breasts or brains"

Boy next door saying that there ARE slutty girls in Belgium, they just don't go to university. I took this one personally. You too can have extra large breasts and still have an A- GPA. Fucking North American Dream.


AND just to prove that I am not making this shit up....




The Slippery Slope of Promiscuity

Once premarital sex and adultery are tolerated, women must become increasingly promiscuous in order to attract men. When a man chooses between two women, if all else is equal, he will take the woman who is more sexually available. Because of this, women competing for attractive men are caught in a downward spiral where they must compete amongst each other with increasing promiscuity. Since the invention of the pill and the advent of the sexual revolution, women have had to become consistently more sexual in their clothing and behavior. Women who attempt to dress modestly and practice restraint have difficulty attracting men from their more sexually available competition.


The Hook-Up Myth
While there are many different ways in which the College’s rural environment makes the Dartmouth experience unique, the hook-up culture is simply not one of them. Regardless of geography and academic calendar, hook-up culture dominates collegiate social scenes across the entire nation.




Hooking up, losing out? The new culture of teen sex ... and how to talk to your campers about it: healthy teens--third in a series of three articles.

Sure, sexual behavior among adolescents is nothing new. But what is new is the startling casualness and regularity with which the "hooking up" takes place. The metamorphosis from relationship-based (relational) sex to recreational sex has many experts wondering if some young people are jeopardizing their future ability to form significant emotional attachments and construct healthy adult relationships.


Told You. Fuck man i could write a best seller on this subject. Probably so could everyone else who went to Jewcamp. It could be called "Do you know where the fuck your sending your kids? Oh wait..you do ..because you want us all to have Jew babies."

K sorry Ive had 2 glasses of wine already, ill stop while im ahead.

2-4 Hour Run

I haven't blogged for almost a week! Weekends here are kind of boring, all the Belgians go home to be boy scouts leaders (I kid you not). I was supposed to go to Paris but the trains were all on strike! And the chain on my bike keeps breaking, I have just given up.

Last year and this year, I just have too much time on my hands. Even though I am taking like 8 classes I only have 3, (but really 2 since I never go to class on Wed anyways) days of class and there is not really too much work (although the readings mysteriously keep Simon and Tiffany busy) so I have nothing to do!

I have been trying to fill my time with hobbies. I, for instance, made my own pasta sauce from scratch. Then I made my own salad dressing from scratch. is great for that sort of thing.

And I joined the school's international Newspaper, The Voice.

Maybe I should start going to the gym?? Or not...

I even considered taking up rock climbing until I remembered that I was scared of heights.

Maybe I will take up painting.


Anyways, so yesterday the ppl in my rez told me about this '24 hour run' thing. Ummm..okay another Belgian oddity. Apparently all the faculties compete in a relay run and it lasts for 24 hours. Sounds exciting I though sarcastically.

So I felt like shit, because I am sick AGAIN. But I went anyways.

Holy Shit.

It was a fuking giant carnival!

Literally thousands and thousands of students were mushed together in a forest with ppl running around a track.

There were food stands and a red bull tent etc.,

I even participated in on of those things where you dress up in a cushy suit and try to knock the other person off of a bar. I will show you pics later to clarify.

I wish I could have enjoyed it more, but I felt so sick that I went home early (also with the intent to wake up for Environmental Philosophy)

Which obviously never happened.

I think I will just stay in bed alll day today.

There is a 'girls night' on my floor today which should be tres interesting.


Quote of the day

"In Belgium, We are the sluts. So You can imagine how the Belgian girls must be"

Spoken by a Dutch girl in reference to how reserved Belgian boys are

Petrikov, my new bff

I had planned to spend my evening cleaning up my room yesterday so I didn't have to sleep on the floor again.

But then I got depressed, ( there will be a large upcoming post about whyyy) and conviently got a text msg from Christina.

So I went to her flat armed with Petrikov.

No, Petrikov isn't a hot Eastern European boy with limited language skills, Petrikov is a delicious vodka drink.

It's 14% and tastes like koolaid.

Basically, it is BETTER then a hot Eastern European boy with limited language skills.

I started swigging on the way there and by the time I left I was halfway on the floor.

I'd like to remind everyone that this was lastnight, aka tuesday night, aka I have 9 am class wed. morning.

And then I started dancing ON the oak stump. Whenever I'm drunk, I just get the urge to dance dance dance on high heights. Ever feel the same? It's like instinctual.

Then I went home at 1:00 (a very reasnoable hour thank you very much) and started reading some of the rules posted on the door outside. Except they were in Dutch, but I think I got the gist. I'm sure one of them was 'Don't piss on the street" and a Dutch guy, before asking if I was British (which I happily nodded to) Translated one as "Be cozy" or something. Who knows


I crawled into my sleeping bag which I had squished onto my bed.

Then I awoke at 8:00. Puked. Got dressed. Puked again. Ate and Oat bar. Fixed my bike chain. Drank a Sprite Zero. Went to Enviromental Ethics.


and now I am finally about to do my first real load of laundry!

Wish me luck!

Dustmites

Today I switched rooms.

It took like 5 hours! And it was just down the hall. But the guy I was switching rooms with, Uber Christian, and me kept haveing like really long talks about the Bible. I made it four hours before he found out that I was Jewish. Common....that's pretty good! He was like 'Don't tell the Iranian girls!" ...yea lol NOT planning too.

And then Helpful Belgian, naturally, being incredibly helpful, installed a mirror on my wall that he bought for me at Ikea and carried home on his motorcycle. I think I might buy him some chocolates....

He has like a collection of power tools, its pretty hot actually. I haven't met too many people who know how to use them, remember that I'm the girl who tried to hammer in a screw....


Actually I'm not a fan of Helpful Belgian anymore, he called me both fat AND stupid. Oh and Uber Christian, after seeing my shoe rack, said "I thought you were a normal girl, but now I see that you are not".

I feel so loved today.

So now my room is a crazy crazy crazy mess and I'm going to camp out on my floor in a sleeping bag. After I do my presentation that's due at 9:00 tmrw of course....

Bubblegum never tasted so good

So I just came back from Amsterdam.

I think.

I could have been in Liverpool.


Amsterdam is apparently populated entirely of British men. I would think people were speaking Dutch, but actually, their British accent is just so thick it took 2 minuites to sink in.

So I'll start from the beginning.

I woke up on Friday, eager to being the Journey. I got ready and walked out the door to get my bike. And then I realized that my bike wasn't pedaling. I had to take a 12:00 bus from Brussels, and it took half and hour to get there, and it was 10:50.

So being mechanically inclined I tried to hook the chain back on myself. Black grease was coating my hands as a random guy came up to me, flipped my bike over and put the chain on in under a minuite.

'Whats your name'? I asked him "Rrrrrroberto" he answered. Spanish? Dutch? Who knows who my Mystery Hero is.

So I got to the train station late and looked at my phone when I realized I had 6 missed calls from Joanna-Gallagher-Look-Alike.

We had missed the first train, but it was okay, the next train would come at 11:24 which would give us about 7 min. to get our tix and haul ass to the busses.

The guy at the bus counter was super rude and kept being like 'twenty-four past two"
in a really monotone voice that only people who have to deal with ques all day long can affect. But he meant that it was 24 past the hour on platform 2. Which we eventually figured out.

Then I went to go get a pastry for breakfast and Joanna-Gallagher-Look-Alike went to go get a magazine. (British Cosmo! So much better then American).

And then we missed the train!!

But it was okay we figured. We had only missed 2 trains so far...and the next one would get us there 5 min. past 12. oooopps.

So I texted Christian Singapore and Pretty Polish girl who happened to be on the same bus to HOLD UP the bus no matter what it took.

But luck for us the bus was an hour late anyways!

Close call.

So eventually we get on the bus (which was an hour late and took an hour longer then it was supposed to). Naturally we just listened to conversations around us to amuse ourselves.

"Don't lots of Canadians want to be American though?"
"Um no. No one does."

[Overhead btwn blonde american and blonde Canadian sitting behind us]

"I don't want to date a rugby player. They have really good asses though"

OH, and did I mention we had NO IDEA WHERE WE WHERE GOING TO STAY!?


So we got off the train and thanks to my trusty guidebook made our way over to a hostel. Booked solid. Then we went to Bobs Youth Hostel. There was a big sign on the door saying 'FULLY BOOKED'. We went in anyways. Plan B was train station. The guy at the desk happened to be from Toronto as well. Wow...now isn't that amazing? And JGLA told him how much our friend had loved it there.

He said he only had one bed. We offered to sleep in to together.

No deal.

After 10 min of nail biting, a miracle occured..a girl had come down and said she didn't want to stay there anymore. Lucky Lucky Lucky day!

We tossed our shit up there and went to go explore.

The whole city smelt like weed. Esp. the lobby of our hostel where ppl where just chillin w/ there bongs.

We walked around, not really sure what to do. It was really late by now and we half attempted to go to the Van Gough museam since it was open late on Fri. nights.

We decided to just start smoking.

Except I was sick and being the responsible good girl that I am, I refused to further damage my throat.

But thats okay, Amsterdam has other options.

A.K.A Space cakes!

It tasted like a regular cake, except and hour and a half later I found myself giggling at nothing in particular.

We just walked and walked and walked around.

I really have to say that w/o sex and drugs, the only reason to visit Amsterdam would be for the canals, which aren't even AMAZING. Oh, and plus the museams.


There was a square with clubs in it, and a fair going on in the middle of town. We went to a bunch of coffee shops until we decided on one. What happens is that there is a menu detailing the various options. We asked a lot of questions and finally decided on 'Bubblegum' Actually, the guy reccomended it to us. Did he think we looked like girls who would smoke a weed named 'bubblegum'? Apparantly so.

I know I said I wasn't going to smoke...but.......just a little. Sooo strong.

We smoked half the joint, maybe half a gram combined, and were totally baked.

We walked around the city again, got lost, ate massive amounts of falafel, fries and fine...Mcdonalds, and ended up at our hostel where we promptly fell asleep.

I expected to be half dead the next morning, but I awoke with surprising ease. And my throat was better, so forget Riccola, go for Bubblegum.

I woke up early with the intent to go to Shul. Yes...Shul. There was this cool, old Shul that was open sat. for service, so I though, why not? But I got there to late and was not appropriately dressed so I gave it up and instead went to the Jewish museam next door.

And that was an experience. It was like a showcase of dinasours. They had Torahs and all these ritual Jewish items. And video's of Jews and their customs.

I was like..umm....hello...I'm still HERE.

I felt like I was walking through an exhibit of an ancient, extinct civilization.

I also bought a museam card which entitled me to free museams for a year.

Which would have been awsome. Except that I LOST IT. How you ask? I have no idea. I ddidn't lose any of my other cards. Just that one. It remains a mystery.

I was super pissed off, this meant I had to pay entrance fees everywhere plus the cost of the pass.

So we ended up walking around the city somemore, trying -sort of- to find the free Cannabis College, but it never ended up happening.

That is the most confusing city I have ever been in. It's ridiculous and so easy to get lost. It is organized by Canal Rings and all the streets curve and blend...

That night we decided to get drunk.. And high. I was considering getting Shrooms...but...I don't know...I wasn't sure about it so I refrained.

We got this big bottle of some sort of red flavoured vodka.

Then I remembered that I had to do my philosophy work, since I have a presentation next week. Philosophy and pot goes beautifully together.

We met a bunch of Brits (Shocker!) and chilled with them for a while.

I read Descartes 4th mediations, a bit of the 5th ones, too some notes (while toking of course), felt like I had accomplished something and then set out to the Red light district.

NOTE TO SELF: When on a budget, do not smoke. You will just end up spending all your money on food. Specifically Wok to Walk. The number one take-out chinese place that I wanted to go to. Dontcha love the name? The last day I creeped on this guy who was eating from it. I think their chain should expand, it's a genuis idea.


Anyyyywas...Red Light district took a while to find, but when we did, there were the requisite Brits, gross ppl asking us for 'Sucks and Fucks" and prostitues. In all their half-naked glory. A lot of them, in fact, almost all, were foriegn and either black or asian-brownish.

They weren't hot or anything, they were just normal women. It really makes you wonder why they are in that position. I heard they can make up to 700 euro a day and they pay about 130 euro an hour for the window, so that can be pretty good money. But still....like...to have sex with gross tourists 10 times a day?

A lot of curtains were closed...and ya know what that means!

We got out of there and walked around SOME MORE.

P;S my legs KILLLLLLL right now and are super sore.

We went back to the hostel I saw a group of guys on the stoop.

Hmmm... what are they doing there? French frogs smoking a joint outside the hostel?

They reason they were there was because the hostel was locked.

shiiiite.


oh...and JGLA had lost our room keys.

Super..really...this was exactly what I wanted at half past four in the morning...to be locked out of my hostel, keyless, high and tired.


We walked around trying to look for the key, to no avail obviously.

When we got back, I noticed there was a little bell saying 'night'. So I kept buzzing it and someone came and yelled at me for buzzing it!

Our room was open for some reason, but we had to sleep in our clothes since we had no key to our locker.

The key was like a 20 euro depostit :(

We kept losing shit, we really have to be more responsible.

I will write about day 3 tmrw.