Saints and Diamonds

"I am the Way. I am the Life."

Jesus the Christ

 (As an aside, I do apologize for the lateness of this post. It would have been up earlier, had it not been for a certain individual, who knows that the blame is entirely hers).


Whirlwind Weekend Number Three: Leuven, Antwerp, and Ghent.

Its cold and dark and I want to go to sleep. After three full length day trips to three different cities, anything besides long awaited rest is beyond the limits of my mental capacity. Fortunately this is Belgium, so an artificially induced sugar high from my respectable collection of rich chocolate confectionaries is in store.

The past 72 hours have been filled with touring the beautiful cities/towns around Brussels. Last Friday, after finishing our first exam for European Union Seminar I, we traveled to Leuven, a town of some 80,000 inhabitants, around half of who are students at the university. Because of the high percentage of students, local residents often joke that instead of a town with a university, Leuven is in fact more of a university with a town. Were it not for the fact that I hail from the Great Midwestern Region of the United States of America, in which nearly every public post secondary institution has overrun and annexed their nearest communities I may have found this noteworthy, but in the heartland of the United States such is the reality. You'll have to do better than that, Leuven.

And do better it did. Though only a brief train ride away from Brussels, Leuven is nowhere near as popular a destination for tourists. After the walking tour, we took full advantage of being the only large group of mostly American tourists and quickly conquered a local brewery. Leuven is home to a delicious local brew that cannot be found anywhere else. The beer is called Domus, and were it not for the sad constraints of a student budget many a pint would have been happily consumed.

The other highlight of the tour was a visit to a local church dedicated to Father Damien, who lived during a time of lesser medical knowledge. He was sent to Hawai'i, where the local population was facing a serious health crisis due to the large number of foreign sailors who passed through their ports. Among the diseases that were imported was leprosy. The solution during that era was to quarantine lepers on the island of Molokai, leaving them to a bleak and joyless existence. Father Damien was appalled by such practices, and volunteered himself to care for the leper community in 1873. At that time, as no cure existed, individuals who had been sent to Molokai were not allowed to leave. Essentially, Father Damien was consciously devoting the rest of his life to caring for a community that had been rejected from the rest of society. He thusly served for 16 years, caring for the lepers and eventually contracting it himself and passing in 1889. In a letter to his brother, Father Damien had written: "I make myself a leper with the lepers to gain all to Jesus Christ."

The next day we spent in Antwerp, a charming city best known for its diamond trade. The diamond trade is to this day largely controlled by the Hasidic Jewish community, the members of which will trade millions of dollars worth of diamonds on the basis of a single handshake. Antwerp is also home to the second largest seaport in Europe (behind Rotterdam), and as such was and continues to be an important commercial city. During the Second World War, the German Luftwaffe bombed Antwerp heavily, as it was a strategic point for the Allied Powers. After it was captured by the Germans, it was then bombed by the Allied Air Forces, who saw it as a strategic point for Hitler's army. When it was once again retaken by the Allies, the United States Military created Antwerp X Command, a group of anti air defensive battalions charged with defending the port from aerial bombardments. Amazingly, the Antwerp X Command, composed of American, British, and Polish troops were expected to accomplish this task by using antiaircraft guns to shoot German V1 and V2 rockets out of the sky. More amazingly, they succeeded.

While in Antwerp we also visited the Cathedral of Antwerp and the house of Peter Paul Rubens, the great Flemish painter. I had seen some of Rubens paintings in the Prado in Madrid, but the collection at his house featured a much greater collection. The Cathedral of Antwerp was as majestic as all Cathedrals are, and was unique in that it included two prominently featured displays done by Rubens. One such painting that I recall was on the external side of the case, visible only from a certain angle to the left of where the display hung. Painted on the outside was a giant man with an infant on his shoulders. The giant had a pained expression on his face, which contrasted sharply with the serene expression of the infant. The panel was a reference to the story of Saint Christopher, who was reputed to be a giant among men. Christopher was not always a Saint; prior to his Sainthood he was more of a greedy opportunist. Christopher lived along a river, and made his livelihood charging passers-by exorbitant sums of money in exchange for his assistance in crossing the river. One day, an infant came to the shore of the river. Challenging Christopher, the infant declared that Christopher would not be able to carry him across the river. Christopher, who had pulled countless travelers and their possessions across the river, accepted the challenge. The terms of the bet were simple: if Christopher could carry the infant across the river, the infant would pay Christopher double the typical rate. If he failed, Christopher would have to do whatever the infant instructed.

And so it was that Christopher took up the infant and began what he believed would be a very easy and lucrative procedure. As he made his way across the river, however, he could feel the infant becoming heavier on his shoulders. Christopher continued onward, but the weight of the infant, initially very little, had become inconceivably heavy. It is at this point that the painting was created, with the serene infant atop the disbelieving, struggling giant. Eventually, Christopher succumbed to the pressure, and feel beneath the surface. The infant took him in his own arms and pulled him back to the river banks. As it may have been guessed, the infant was Jesus Christ. When Christopher took him up, he did so ignorant of that fact that he was taking on the weight of the world on his shoulders. Christopher, amazed, asked of Jesus: "What must I do?" Jesus replied: "Follow me."

On Sunday, we traveled to the town of Ghent, in Northern Belgium. Ghent was another hidden gem of a town, with some 250,000 inhabitants. The highlight of the day was undoubtedly the castle, which happened to be the venue of choice for an aerobic, spin class that blasted retro 80's songs to heavy thumping beats. Though I have traveled to a fair number of castles, never before have I done so with an inescapable mental image of Richard Simmons and what sounded like his iTunes top 25 corresponding soundtrack ringing in my ears. By the time we made it to the torture chambers, I was seriously contemplating which was worse, being physically tortured with harsh iron instruments, or being psychologically ruined by self-induced visions of Simmons in red spandex.

At the time of this writing, it is now quarter to one in the morning here in the fair city of Brussels. As I am to intern tomorrow, I think it best that I retire for the evening. Good night to you all. 

Belgium 101: A Study in Black, Yellow, and Red

It is no secret that Belgium has issues. Divided along linguistic, economic, and religious lines, the nation of Belgium is under considerable strain. Many individuals may think that Belgium is a charming small European country in which the citizens are bilingual in Flemish (a dialect of Dutch) and French, but outside of Brussels the reality is different from how it is commonly perceived. Rather than a populace of bilingual citizens, Belgium is home to two separate, unilingual regions. Flanders, the more prosperous northern region, is home to the Flemish, and Wallonia, the francophone region to the south, is equally linguistically homogenous, albeit in French. A marginal German-speaking community also exists within the southeast.

The economic division of Belgium began shortly after the industrial revolution. In response to increased income disparity, the Belgian Workers' Party was formed in 1885. This party would serve as the precursor to the Parti Socialite, the Socialist Party of Belgium. Taxation in Belgium is substantially more progressive than in the United States, with the highest bracket paying a duty of 69%. Additionally, on all goods and services there is a Value Added Tax (VAT), to the beautiful tune of 21%. 

The final division, that of religion, began roughly around the same time as that of language. French became the official language of Belgium in 1830, but as the majority of Belgians spoke Flemish the government recognized it as the second official language in 1880. Belgium had been more Catholic for the past several decades, so in 1846 the Liberals, those who advocated religious freedom, formed their own political party. Not to be overpowered, the Catholic community formed a political party of their own in 1862. This party would later comprise the Christian Democrats.

Belgium's government is a federal parliamentary democracy with a constitutional monarchy. The term "federal" indicates that there are multiple levels of constitutional authority, unlike in a unitary system, in which there is only one source. In Belgium, the people elect the Parliament, which in turn elects the Government. Candidates representing political parties are put on a list, and voters vote for a party rather than an individual candidate. The order of the candidates is determined by the party, and the number of seats that the party wins is directly proportional to the number of seats they have in the two houses of Parliament; the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate. Belgians can also exercise a "preference vote," in which the voter votes for a party and then for a specific individual within that party. If that candidate receives enough preference votes, he or she will move up on the list, and may make it high enough to become a Member of Parliament. Though preference voting is neither required nor common, voting in Belgium is compulsory. 

Once Parliament is elected, the Members of Parliament must then elect a Government. This is done by simple majority, which, in this context, requires 76 seats, as there are 150 in total. While 76 seats are required to form a Government, 100 are required for a Constitutional Reform. The current party with the most votes, the New Vlaamse Alliance (N-VA), campaigned on the promise that they would reform the constitution to ensure greater autonomy for the Flanders region. N-VA won 27 seats, and will need to reach agreements with other like minded parties to form their Government. Unfortunately, the party with the second highest number of votes was the Socialist Party, with 26. As the N-VA is economically liberal (in the European connotation), the Socialists represent their direct opposition. 

The lucky individual whose job it is to assist in the formation of the new Government is none other than His Majesty the King. It is he who acts as the formateur, the liaison between the newly elected parties. His additional roles include that of being the Head of State (the Prime Minister gets to be Head of Government), Commander in Chief of the 40,000 soldiers in the Belgian armed forces, and an informal advisor to the Government. 

As the King fulfills his royal duties, an interim government presides in the day to day functions. The interim government cannot enact any new initiatives. Additionally, there are regional and community governments that oversee the logistical, mundane details (as opposed to overarching policy). The regional government refers to physical location, whereas the community government refers to human constituencies. 

Shake It Like A Polaroid Picture

Just because it's awesome

In Amsterdam; Van Gogh, Anne Frank, and Sex and the City

"I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process."

Vincent Van Gogh



It takes approximately two hours and forty-five minutes by train to travel from Brussels to Amsterdam. Passing through kilometers upon kilometers of tranquil pastoral scenes, it is easy to observe the very characteristics that so captivated the great Vincent Van Gogh, one of the greatest of the Dutch painters. Van Gogh, perhaps best known for Starry Night, was a masterful Impressionist painter, adopting and perfecting the style of pointillism, among other techniques.

My visit to Amsterdam with my housemate-colleagues, Josh and Perry (referred to also by their honorary titles Eagle One and The Duke of Landesberg, respectively), was not my first, but as Amsterdam is one of my favorite cities in Europe it did not take much convincing by them for me to go along with it. We left on Friday morning and arrived in the central train station in Amsterdam in the early afternoon. Our hostel was twenty-five minutes by tram west of the city center, so we opted to look around before checking in. One of our peers had a high school friend in Delft, who was more than happy to show us around. After having lunch with him, he took us by the Anne Frank house, where a long line compelled us to postpone our visit to Sunday, as the museum was closed the following day due to Yom Kippur.

After a full afternoon of touring the city, in the evening we wandered through the infamous Red Light District. The Red Light District is the stuff of a legendary underworld for the morally loose, a cursed icon of sin and damnation for the righteous, the perfect material for an ethnography for an IR scholar, and of course a very nice place to bring your children. I was admittedly a bit confused why, in the middle of the SEX CAPITAL OF THE WORLD, large groups of Japanese tourists seemed more interested in the swans in the canal than the other surroundings, but I know enough about the Japanese to understand that I will, most likely, never understand the Japanese, so nothing lost I suppose. Perhaps there is a new swan-resembling pokemon that I don't know about. If there is someone please let me know, because I definitely want it.

The next day we set off, having met up with three more of our colleagues back at the hostel the previous night. We went to the Van Gogh museum, which was utterly fantastic. Vincent Van Gogh always longed to paint the common people, and delighted in the pastoral scenes such as the ones we passed on the train to Amsterdam. Much of the subject matter that he painted reflected his love of ordinary individuals, and he spent an important period of his life in the town of Arles, France, doing exactly what he intended. Though Starry Night is a part of the collection in New York, the museum did have his work, The Bedroom, which is among his most famous masterpieces.

The Bedroom illustrates the complexity of properly maintaining a painting. The painting as I saw it had just been restored, however, as the exhibit pointed out, restoration in its current context implies only that the museum community has succeeded in maintaining the painting in its current state, rather than in its full original glory. Van Gogh's original work had used a solvent that had yellowed considerably over the years, and the museum restoration team had had to recreate his original colors and then artificially age them to correctly represent the painting. The door on the right of the painting, described by Van Gogh as a "lilac" color, today appears pale blue.

The rest of the day we divided, with some individuals visiting the Heineken brewery and others walking around the city. I chose the latter, both for a personal distaste in tourist traps and also due to a preference for touring local, independent breweries. We later stopped by for a drink at the Hans Brinker Hotel, known for being the worst hotel in Amsterdam, and possibly, the world. Distinct from the hostel, Hans Brinker was a character in an American novel that led to the introduction of speed skating in the United States. The novel is also famous for the tale of a young boy who used his finger to plug a hole in a dyke, thereby saving his country. According to the legend, the boy remained there all night until he was found the following morning and the village was able to make the necessary repairs.

The rest of the day and the next after that were spent visiting more parts of the city and enjoying Amsterdam in general. The Duke of Landesberg and I visited the Anne Frank House in the morning, at last validating weeks of eighth grade literature courses through our pilgrimage. Though I had done so before, walking through the confines of their hideout was a surreal experience. To this day it amazes me that at such a young age, Ms Frank could endure such tremendous fear and demonstrate such bravery in the face of adversity. That her faith in the best aspects of humanity endured is a powerful reminder to recognize the humanity in all individuals, even when they themselves may not.

In Bruges; The Count, His Princess, and A Bear

"There's a Christmas tree somewhere in London with a bunch of presents underneath it that'll never be opened. And I thought, if I survive all of this, I'd go to that house, apologize to the mother there, and accept whatever punishment she chose for me. Prison... death... didn't matter. Because at least in prison and at least in death, you know, I wouldn't be in Bruges. But then, like a flash, it came to me. And I realized, maybe that's what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in Bruges. And I really really hoped I wouldn't die. I really really hoped I wouldn't die."

Ray, from the movie In Bruges




In the province of West Flanders in the Flemish region of Belgium is located the town of Bruges. Sometimes referred to as "the Venice of the North," Bruges is internationally recognized for its quaint and pristine beauty. Local chocolatiers and breweries border charming, open air cafes and restaurants, and boats ferrying tourists by the dozen sift through Bruges' numerous canals. The overall ambience is a bit like that of Amsterdam, albeit without the parallel shadow world of its Red Light District.

Few would agree with Ray's sentiments. Such is the beauty of Bruges that many Belgians select the town as the location of their honeymoon. Even royalty have been impressed by the natural charm of Bruges. One Count of Flanders, in love with a French Princess, eloped with her and settled in Bruges. The legend states that the Count and his new bride, en route to Bruges, encountered a large bear in a forest. The Count, courageous in the face of danger, bravely fought the bear and slew it, saving both his own life and that of his Princess. The King of France, his formerly unwilling Father-in-Law, was so grateful, that he graciously accepted the marriage of his daughter to so valiant a man, leaving the two lovers to live happily ever after. 

The reality deviates slightly from this imagined history. The Count of Flanders did indeed love a French Princess, who happily loved him in return. They did elope, and fled to Bruges where the Count had a residence suitable for a Princess. The French King, who had had other plans for the marriage of his daughter along the lines of a political arrangement, was furious. However, he craftily negotiated a compromise with the Count, in which the Count would defend the water routes of Bruges from the Viking invaders to the north. Said Vikings had on occasion come down from Scandinavia, and the town of Bruges overlooked a series of waterways that led into the very heart of Europe. Bruges was therefore a strategic point for defense as well as a thriving port city, and the King of France correctly reasoned that a fortified castle at Bruges would prove effective in defending the people of France. 

So it was that the Count of Flanders built a fortress at Bruges, and he successfully defended the passages into the European interior from all subsequent Viking attacks. So successful was he in turning back and counterattacking the Vikings that they were forced to sail further down the coast to establish a fort of their own to defend themselves from the Count's forces. The Count and his Princess were married in the Cathedral in Bruges, and a happy ending to their story was yet achieved. 

Centuries later, modifications were carried out in the very same Cathedral in which the Count of Flanders had wed the French Princess. The main altar was moved aside, and underneath the altar was discovered a crypt. Inside the crypt were found bones, later identified as those belonging to a bear. 

Photos of Bruge

In Defense of Blogging; A Tale of Two Perspectives

"Never before have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few."


Perry on blogging.




"I pity the fool."


Mr T




Regardless of personal views on the subject, that Perry's argument has no small amount of merit does not escape my notice. I would estimate that the investment of time and effort by its author into any given blog usually exceeds the amount of time spent appreciating said blog by its followers, yet this phenomenon does not deter me. The recollection of memories, whether positive or negative, is ultimately an exertion of one's human tendencies. That one may be compelled to record certain events into a medium that can be shared by many demonstrates our social and psychological value and interest in the reactions of others to the actions of ourselves. For that matter, the purpose of this journal is not to gain universal renown, but rather to provide a window into my experiences for any or all who are interested. 


The title of this Blog, The Discovery of Europe, alludes to my growing interest in India. The Discovery of Europe is a reference to a book written by Jawaharlal Nehru, one of the leading figures in establishing the nation of India. Rather than suggesting that Nehru himself discovered an entirely new people, culture, or identity, the title of his work, The Discovery of India, was instead an acknowledgement that Nehru was rediscovering a diverse and heterogenous society that had assumed a new significance, both political and personal , in the eyes of the beholder. Though the concept of "India" was new to its many inhabitants, the ethnicities, languages, and systems found within its boundaries had existed independently of any central state for centuries. The birth of India did not give rise to an entirely new people, but rather united distinct and separate social entities into one overarching nation. 


My hope is that my own experiences in Europe throughout the next sixteen weeks will prove to be fulfilling and enlightening in the same manner in which Nehru experienced the awakening of India. Our itinerary for the semester will bring us to the great center stage of European history, from historical monuments of pivotal battles to the headquarters of multilateral political entities. And though the experiences of a university student do not compare to that of a national hero, important lessons can be learned at any level of observation. Case in point: one should not assume that his or her work holds no validity simply because someone else has already accomplished more. If anything, those individuals should value their own merits wholeheartedly; their experiences may prove equally revelatory to them as the discovery of India was to Nehru. Blog on, comrades. I rest my case. Thank you Mr T.

The Prelude; That These Memories Endure

Dedicated to Nancy Hagen and Andrew Tecson, for the gift of their enduring love and support of an individual who is fortunate beyond his wildest dreams to receive it.



"Certainly traveling is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of the living."

-Miriam Beard




It is a quarter past midnight on a Monday night. Less than one hour ago, I sat in a bar in Montgomery with nearly twenty of my peers, enjoying a delicious local brew that would win numerous awards in the United States. Tonight, in Brussels, the political capital of Europe, it rains, and I can only hope that the third member of our house, Josh aka Eagle One, will make it home safely. When last I saw him, he was bordering between happily tipsy and adequately inebriated, and leaving him to another round was not my primary intention.

I have spent the past four days becoming oriented to the city of Brussels and to the expectations of my semester long program. We are twenty-four students in all, twenty-three of us from our home institution, the American University in Washington DC, and one more student from Tufts University. For the next sixteen weeks, I will be living with Madame d'Ursel, a pleasant, middle aged divorcee. There are two other students from the program living in the same house, one of whom, Perry, happens to be my former roommate of Freshman year. The other, Josh, happens to live a mere fifteen minutes away from my home near Chicago, and we have several mutual friends. Having explored the Grand Place and the campus of the Catholic University of Lueven, and having become familiar with the facilities, received the necessary materials, and reviewed the syllabi for our courses, the majority of our group decided to dedicate the evening to becoming more acquainted with each other. After a few hours of doing so, I left with Perry, leaving Eagle One in the capable hands of another comrade.

The prospects of being abroad in such a vibrant and well situated location are thrilling. Already we are drafting ambitious plans to cover as much of Europe as possible. Overall, I am content with the other members of this program, and remain thoroughly optimistic that this semester will prove to be one of opportunity, adventure, and insight that will dramatically enrich my university experiences. Henceforth is my desire; that our adventures prove exceptional; that these memories endure.