Bart and I were meant to be friends. We are both weird and like food. I am more weird-bizarre, like how I like to say David Hasselhoff outloud. He is more weird-cool, cause he plays the saxophone, decorated his apartment in 70′s retro, and is learning Arabic and Scottish dancing. In the same way I like consuming food, he likes preparing beautiful 4 course meals. In fact, when we were discussing the Fast, and how I used to break the Fast with Kraft Mac & Cheese, Bart offered to make me homemade mac and cheese. He even let Pedram, Barnaby, Mina and Sogol join. It was AMAZING – first we started with homemade tomato soup with meatballs, then he brought out 2 casseroles of REALLY good macaroni and cheese – soo much better than the powder version. It doesn’t hurt that Bart is almost a sous-chef, another little hobby he keeps on the side. And he is so hilarious and fun to be with that I think he might be leading the running of the coolest Belgian ever. (maybe surpassing Jean Claude Van Damme?)

I have been craving Ranch. Not that I really even like Ranch that much, but never in my life before have I wanted to dip my carrot sticks into creamy Ranch as I do every night for the past month. But there is no ranch here…nada – and I have looked. What if Sina drops by and wanted to eat plain salad with his fingers with a side of ranch?? What if he didn’t come visit because of the Ranch situation? Luckily, I have a new American friend (which brings me up to 3!) who understood my dispair, and bought me some authentic Hidden Valley Ranch from some “american” store outside of the city. She has lived here longer than me, so she is brilliantly aware of cravings, longings and frustrations found here. Her name is Lisa, and I don’t want to overexpose her on the blog cause we have just met and I need her permission. I have however overexposed her to Pedram with my “and then Lisa said this…” and “but Lisa said this.” She is fabulous.

Claire is my American friend, and she is super cool. The best part is that is she is not afraid of being American and criticizing Europeans. She invited Americans and Europeans to her home (warning us that the hallway is similar to a crack den, but the apartment is cute and cozy) for the year countdown to the end of W’s days in office. Yeah! I made new friends, even some from Seattle and who want to watch the Superbowl with me! Funny enough, Pedram was the only European there – a brilliant moment of role reversal where I was not the minority and not suddenly subjected to insults and explanations of stereotypes about where I grew up. Claire put Pedram in his place when she brought up the subject of immigration and discrimination in Europe, and how Europeans are ashamed of their past and are doomed to repeat it. Pedram discovered that it is not as much fun when there are no other Europeans around to point out irrelevant and condescending arguments such as “well, at least we are not all fat like you guys”. Also, Claire made a shameless confession about her obsession with Veronica Mars that lead to an exchange of website where we can download American TV shows for free. Now Pedram and I are addicted to the Sopranos (me, for the second time). Can’t wait to see Claire again – maybe at the Superbowl party at 2am?

My heroes. Really. Okay, yeah, it is pretty great that my wedding ring was returned to the US, thanks to them. But their short visit here was quite a breath of fresh air. They are so positive, it made me feel like I have absolutely no reason to complain. Tana made me realize all of the positives of living in Europe, including the amazing social benefits when the government cares about your well-being. They raved about the food, regardless of what it was, or in what form it was delivered to them. They even said that they got a good night sleep on the blow-up, which Pedram and I instantly decided could not be possible. They may be the cure for the winter blues and I wish they would come more often. Lucky for me, they even have family here, who live in the cutest remote area, are incredibly kind and their home feels like a warm hug. So Dhab and Tana will have to come back!

What is about newborn babies that makes people nostalgic for loved ones? Carmel, Neda’s brand new shining baby, has a habit of putting her hand on her face when she sleeps. It is very cute, especially since she was even doing it in her ultrasound pictures. Nasser, Neda’s father, told me that she gets this characteristic from his own mother, Khanoum Joon, who passed away over 10 years ago. Witnessing him seeing his own mother’s habits recreated in his baby grand daughter gave me chills and made me feel very special. It is pretty amazing to be able to be a bystander to such an intimate relationship.

Another person who made my week extra special was my aunt Faezeh, who has recently come to visit us in Seattle. She looks about 10 years younger than when I saw her last 5 years ago which she will attribute to something silly like cucumbers. She came bearing many wonderful gifts, including homemade lavashack, the persian fruit roll up, and gol gav zaban, a cure-all medicinal herb that translates into the flower cow’s tongue. But the best gift was herself, with her motherly wit and charm, telling me that I should ask permission from my husband before traveling alone and in the same breath telling me that he should use some sort of natural rub-on sulphuric acid to get rid of all of his bodily hair. She says this all jokingly, fitting in perfectly around our sarcastic and entertaining dinner table.

I love this dog. I love him. It has been a while since I got a chance to play with a puppy, and this little long haired chihuahua made me so happy on Sunday when we went to Leily, Fernand and Shania’s house for lunch. His name is Sushi, and he is adorable. Just look at him posing for this shot!

Maria and I are in the same French class. She is here in Brussels for a little bit before returning to Spain for her masters. In contrast to Julia, the calm, rational, punctual German girl in our class, Maria is a total fireball, completely irrational, and speaks a mile a minute. When the French teachers tell her to slow down, she complains “I can’t slow down my brain!” Recently in class she gave a speech about the languages of Spain, reminding me again of my pathetic geographical idiocy. There are 4 official languages in Spain – including Basque, which according to Maria, no one has any idea where it comes from. Catalan, spoken in the east and north, is also spoken in 3 other countries, making it the 88th most spoken language in the world. All random facts Maria knows off the top of her head. She is a total inspiration to me to speak French with more confidence and not be afraid to make mistakes or use English words and try to make them French. She is totally uninhibited and makes me more comfortable to come out of my shell. It is always fun to ride the metro with her, as she tells a story at the top of her lungs and everyone is staring at us. And to top it all off, she brought croissants to class on Friday. I am really happy I met her here!

Christophe (and the sleepy birthday boy and his mom)
Christophe is one of Pedram’s closest friends, but he lives about an hour away, so I don’t get a chance to see him very often. However, I had the opportunity this weekend since Christophe and the fam were celebrating their 2 year old’s birthday. Prepared for the regular baby birthday celebration that would include a room full of screaming babies in their prettiest outfits, uncomfortable hats, baby talk, elaborate and unnecessary gift opening, some clownlike activity and a cake with 3 inches of white frosting, I was pleasantly surprised. The babies were put to bed by 9pm, and dinner didn’t start until after then. Christophe’s son, Casimir, was so mature he didn’t even gloat when he realized he knew more french than me. Christophe and Francoise are incredibly positive, upbeat and excellent hosts – the food was quite exceptional. It became clear that we’d be great friends when Francoise let me know that there was no Costco frosting nightmare cake, but two homemade cakes that Christophe made himself that day. Naturally, I had a generous slice of each, and they were fantabulous. Best 2 year old’s birthday party ever!

Barnaby was my first official friend in Brussels that I didn’t meet through Pedram. I met him through Mina (who I met through Pedram) in July, was so excited that he spoke English and knew off the top of his head 42 US states that I immediately invited him to my wedding the following month. Everyone at the wedding adored him, and now suddenly he seems to know more about what is happening in Seattle than I do! Since I have moved here, Barnaby has tried to get me a job repeatedly, reassured me about life in Brussels, entertained me during rugby halftimes, and offered me the best burger I have ever had (it is made with real meat he says!). A proper Englishman, he is very polite and tolerant. For example, when I started yelling USA! USA! during a recent rugby match in a pub filled to the brim with Europeans, he quietly said to me — “that is great, but maybe you should save it for another match where the US is playing”. Brussels is a happier place with Barnaby around.