Moving On Up, to the South Side...

Well, I’m moving again, though this time for positive reasons, meaning that I want to be closer to my daughter’s new school and to preserve the morning ritual of being close enough to ride the bike, or eventually bikes, down the tree-lined boulevard each morning, weather permitting, to drop her off. It is something that has become such an integral part of my life that I can’t imagine it otherwise.

Perhaps one of the greatest things for me living in Belgium is that, weather permitting, I do almost everything on the bike, and the most significant one of those things is that I take my daughter on the bike to school. At present, it is a good 5km/2 ½ mile ride and she is not exactly small anymore to be riding behind me like Rerun of the Peanuts comic series. But, the route we have to take is too dangerous and too long for her to be on her own, which will all change when I move to my new apartment.

Moving and switching schools is tough. And, I don’t think that anyone will disagree here, but, you know, life is tough.

But, like Roberto Benigni showed us, even in the most distressing, horrible and trying times, life can be “beautiful.” 

My life is beautiful. Tough, but beautiful.

Each day here in Belgium I am communicating in a language that is not my own, and one that is rapidly becoming second nature to me because of all that I have to deal with on a daily basis, and for the most part, I am alone. That is not a result of merely being an introvert, which I am, but also because of the social clime and norms here. An American in Antwerp in 2012 is not the same as Gershwin’s American in Paris in the 1920’s and 30’s. It is not Hemingway’s Time. It is Fact, not fiction, nor self-pity. Just the facts, mam, and those are they, as they stand. It is very hard to be here as an American cut adrift (partly self-inflicted, partly otherwise) and most ex-pats of this time will agree. Times have changed. The world has changed. Norms have changed. And, with them, I must change.

But, again, my life here is beautiful. Would I wish that things were different? In some instances a definitive “yes” is on the tip of my tongue, in others, a clarion bell of “nay” resonates quite soundly throughout my day’s thoughts.

I am moving soon away from the very neighborhood that brought me back to Antwerp, to Belgium, to Europe, that is Zurenborg, without a doubt, one of the most uniquely architectural wonders of Europe, and a true sense of community. I will miss it, I had a house here, a sense of place for a while, but again, Times change, and I will with them. I am moving to a new part of Antwerp-Berchem, one that is less urban, more sub-urban, but not without its own charms and more importantly, it has direct access to some stunning city parks, not to mention Europe’s second-largest outdoor sculpture garden of Middelheim, a treasure I was alerted to a quarter of a century ago as an exchange student, and a place that I have retreated to for solace in the intervening years.

Fall is coming to Belgium, which is a big change. Belgium is verdant to put it mildly, and when the fall comes, it comes with great fanfare that would rival the peeper tours of New England.

So, change is in the air, both physically and metaphysically as I am adjusting to new things, new environments, and new horizons. In the past two weeks, in Dutch I have bought a used car, rented a new apartment, joined a water polo team, helped integrate my amazing daughter into a new school, dealt with a myriad of financial, social, and logistical situations, and with the added benefit that now, no one really knows where I am from, meaning, I’ve lost my accent. Now, they are surprised when I say that I am American rather than assuming and switching to English.

Things have changed.