Home in Brussels

Before you know it we’ve all settled in to a routine, got adjusted to living in Brussels and actually feel as though we have a normal life. We’ve even managed to get into a passive aggressive argument with another member of our building through note placement on each other’s cars...that’s how Europeans do it apparently, being rude is a way of life for most of them. When we first moved in we paid for, in addition to the ridiculously high rent, a parking spot in the garage below our building. So after the second day of work Emily pulls into the garage and someone has already parked in our assigned space, thus the only space available just happens to be the one space that makes getting into and out of extremely difficult. We contacted our “Business Apartment” housing manager from “Home In Brussels” and told them of our situation. He responded and said that space #1 was available and that we could park there. Problem solved...for a month at least.

A month goes by, I play a little rugby with the Brussels Celtics, hurt myself, we take a few side trips, scope out places to eat and hangout, and everything is going fine and dandy, until Emily gets a note on her car the next morning before work saying “This is my spot, I have been renting it for over a year. How DARE you park in my spot. What were you thinking?” Emily shows me the note and I understand putting a note on someone’s car if that is indeed your spot and you have no idea who’s car it is; however, using that language if very uncalled for and borderlines on douchebaggery...or a typical European attitude when they don’t get their way. Emily tells me not to go talk to them, because they left their apartment number, especially since there was a good chance I would reflect the amount of cynicism they directed toward me in a more of an angry “I don’t have time for this child’s play” attitude. So Emily goes to work, comes back and someone is again in our assigned spot so she parks in Space #1 AGAIN...because I told her to. I mean why not...we’ve been there a month in accord with the property manager’s instructions. Apparently once you get a “business apartment” in Brussels, which, if you rent anything less than a year, some crazy Belgian real-estate laws make it almost impossible to rent from anyone other than a high priced “Business Apartment” rental company, the property mangers stop caring what happens. We were trying to call and e-mail about the parking situation but still nothing.

The same evening Emily returns downstairs to see where the note placer parked and they, of course, smugly backed their car right in front of Emily, so that she couldn’t get out. I’m glad we didn’t have to go anywhere. We finally got a reply back late that evening from the property manager telling us to report the car in our original spot to him so he could call the police. I asked him why this wasn’t a problem a month ago when it began, but no answer. We decided that we would put a note on his car telling him to park in his own space...#8, the almost impossible to get in and out of space, and if he failed to comply we would contact the police. We would also put a note on the douche bags car telling him the situation. So, I’m happy to report they left another note on Emily’s car the next morning saying it wasn’t a big deal, that they were never at their apartment anyways, that they traveled almost all the time. But that still makes me wonder, if it wasn’t a big deal, then why the harsh note?
Regardless, besides the parking situation Brussels is an amazing city. Brussels is a great place to visit other sites throughout Europe which is ideal for anyone wanting to do a European vacation and get in other cities as well. From Brussels you can take a train to London, Paris, and Amsterdam all under two hours away and many low cost airlines fly out of Brussels Charleroi to all over Europe...plus Belgium is the land of Beer, Chocolate, and the Mannekin Pis. Statues of little naked boys taking a piss are what make cities important you know.

Emily and I are venturing to Paris this weekend (send all hate mail to sancho@roadhusband.com so he can ignore you). Hopefully in Paris we can see all the sights including some beret wearing, skinny cigarette smoking, Frenchman being rude and snobby to us...wouldn’t be Paris without it.

Chicago Public Transportation

I’m not sure how many people who will read this brief, yet informative post. But, as a self-declared travel expert, and an all-around great person to know, you will find this info to your benefit, especially if you’re traveling through the Chicago area anytime in the winter or colder months (ie. November - April), and utilizing the public transportation system. First of all, most of the city politicians are not only corrupt, but they’re stupid as well. Anyone who thinks that the public transportation system in Chicago is anything that even remotely resembles efficient is someone who thinks Glen Beck ISN’T a retarded troll. More politicians and public officials encourage people to take public transportation every year. Why? Do they want us to be late for work every day, or get gang raped by some “gangsta thugs” from the South Side? No, they just want more public funds to get pumped into the system that will, in no way, support public transportation, but somehow, get funneled into useless projects that will somehow benefit the corrupt politicians. Not only is the public transportation as inefficient as most airlines, or the public school system, but it’s also as dangerous as being gay in Texas.


First off, as stated before, traveling the public transportation system in the colder months, in Chicago, subjects anyone to the shitty weather that they’ll have to endure. Also, as stated before, since the trains and busses are so completely inefficient, thus, never on time, you could be stuck standing outside or on an elevated train platform for some significant time shivering like Charlie Sheen in rehab.


I’m going to go ahead and admit that I've never taken public transportation in any other U.S. city besides San Diego so my comparison to other U.S cities renders this post irrelevant. However, I have taken public transportation in 10 foreign countries and I will attest to Chicago being the fucking worst out of all of them. And this comes from the City that wanted to host the 2016 Olympic Games, but somehow, and I can only guess, the absolute atrocity that this city calls public transportation somehow played into the decision...well, that and the fact that everyone HATES Americans. But, Yeah, 10 foreign countries in which the public transportation system is noticeably better...and 7 of the 10 were in Asia. 5 of the 7 asian countries blow the Chicago system out of the water.


OH...so you want examples. If you may or may not know, many of the elevated (L) train platforms are cold in winter, so one would think that they’d put up shelter. Chicago, is, after-all, a really cold ass place to live in the winter. But, for some reason the City of Chicago will place overhead heaters above the 3 or 4 wind blocking benches on each platform, but not all; however, only one of those fucking heaters will actually work. So, when you arrive on a platform, you can see everyone huddled around one single wind blocking bench underneath the sole operating heating element looking like day old cafeteria corn dog. The extra kick in the nuts is knowing that the trains won’t run on time so you will see three trains go by in the other direction before a train going your way will run by. WHY? Nobody knows...Chicago is too poor to put up digital time schedulers like developing countries do.


AND, not only do the trains run off schedule, but in the winter time, they’re filled with homeless people sleeping all day and night on the train, just riding back and forth from one end to the other, smelling like urine and cat feces. This problem could also be solved by simply looking at how other countries run their train system...but NOOO, wouldn’t want to do that would we? Next, as most people try to avoid the South Side of Chicago, which is defined as absolutely nothing south of the Chinatown/Cermack stop and nothing west of there, I am afraid of a group of “thugs” on a single train car. There aren’t cameras on the train, hell, if they are, they probably don’t work anyways. So, when I find myself and my wife on a train with a group of teenage south-side “thugs” giving everyone the shit eye when they get on and begin talking some form of language only translatable by someone who went to Morehouse, Emory, or Spelman in Atlanta, GA. I get a little fucking scared. (If, by chance, you think this is Racists, then lighten up. A little insensitive and unwarranted to some good colleges, I agree, but honest nonetheless). All I’m saying is that I’ve never felt threatened in any other city’s public transportation systems besides Chicago’s...hell, I’ve ridden with the dirtiest of Euro Trash trains in Italy and didn’t feel this threatened. BUT, hey, we’re about to go to Europe for a few months, so I’m sure I’ll get mugged for being an American, and when we get back to Chicago, I’ll get shot for being racists or “insensitive.”


The Busses...WOW, these things are even more useless. The city of Chicago actually publishes schedules for these rolling pieces of shit. Why? Only to appease the angry white folk who like to complain, because, we all know, the busses just go and come when they fucking feel like it. My wife and I used to live downtown, literally, across the street from a bus stop and two blocks from the red-line, and I still hated public transportation. The bus across the street had printed schedules, not only on paper, but on the sign. It’s as frustrating as trying to translate an NBA player at a press conference. It is what it is, after-all. I’ve literally seen three of the same busses come one after another, I just waited to get on the third one...because I could. Also, I’ve walked outside at the appropriate scheduled time to see the bus pulling off 5 minutes early, only to wait another 30 minutes for the next bus, which was supposed to show up every 15 minutes.


So, if you find yourself in Chicago, and you’re taking public transportation, don’t be surprised when the train, or bus, that you happen to be on breaks down and you have to get off and either wait for another train or bus, or hike to wherever you want hoping not to get shot because you went too far south or west. The other option is to wait for a taxi so you can pay $40 to go 5 blocks and get some sort of political history lesson from Abu the head bobbling Indian taxi driver. (That actually happened to me)


P.S. The Suburbs Suck...but not as bad as the entire state of New Jersey or Ohio!

Refinery Compound Living...Part 3, There Seems to be a Pattern

If any of you have every read any of my blogs or randoms posts then you’re well aware of the two past compounds Emily and I have been sentenced too. Fortunately, the compound in Taiwan was short lived, thanks in part to a timely heater explosion which drastically reduced our time there...kinda like being paroled for undue hardship. The Jiao-Kou River Town compound was a bit longer, around 5 1/2 months, just long enough to give me a few neuromuscular ticks and a lazy eye.

Since returning state-side in May I’ve had vivid images of nice locations, such as our previous assignment in Malaysia, where the location completely spoiled us, and all memories of refinery compounds were suppressed and diluted with some vague pleasing moments. You’d think I would have learned my lesson by now. Perhaps all those shots to the head during my rugby years played a factor in my premature thinking, or...I’m just a sucker who really does think “We did our time, it’s easy sailing from here on out.” Either way my visions of nice locations were shot down like Dick Cheney’s hunting partner.


Two weeks ago I was sitting and biding my time in a cheap hotel on the outskirts of Detroit. Emily was doing a trouble-shoot for the refinery there and working her usual 80-hr weeks leaving me to the thoughts in my head and some Rosetta Stone Spanish lessons...the latter being the most productive of the two activities. The day before my birthday we got some “splendid” news that we were to head to Japan, land of electronics, robots and people with pent up aggression against Americans since 1945. Emily and I have heard nothing but good things about going to Japan on an assignment, both work and tourism related. The only bad thing ever reported was the cost...and that statement is definitely true. I did the usual research and find out we’re on the island of Shikoku, Ehime Prefecture...about half-way between Matsuyama and Imabari. Ok, it seems a little remote, but transportation in Japan in smooth and efficient...right?


Upon reading the site report from the Chief already there, the reality of living in another “Refinery Compound” struck again and all those repressed memories began to re-surface. “But, it’s Japan, it can’t be that bad.” Oh, but it CAN....and It IS!

Em and I left Chicago on the 12:03 flight to Tokyo, Narita airport. I got upgraded to business class for the first time in over a year and we actually landed early in Japan. We transferred airports and made it just in time to catch an early flight to Matsuyama. We landed, caught a taxi to the hotel, and prepared for some much needed sleep. So far everything is going great..that is, until the next morning when we meet up with the rest of the crew and the people taking us to the refinery. The other crew members begin to inform us of how remote the refinery is...nothing accessible by walking so you need a car...but, we get our own apartment!


We finally arrive on site and the refinery workers make me and the other road husband sit through a briefing on how not to screw up the apartment...as if that’s my job when I get here. They take us to our apartments, we open the door, and are hit with 90 degree musty heat. The apartment is a nice size place...only problem is that we only have two asian versions of window unit A/C’s...which can’t cool the whole place. So we closed off two of the bigger rooms that don’t have A/C, or furniture, because why would we need furniture in this place, we should be packing our own! The ONLY furniture is a tiny table and 4 small chairs, a metal cot for Emily to sleep on and a folded mattress for me to sleep on the floor...we were lucky enough to get two small bean bag pillows though. OH, forgot about the 13-inch TV in the corner with 5 Japanese channels.


The refinery people spent all of 3 minutes showing us how to use the gas stove, which I found out this morning doesn’t work all that well, and they proceeded to tell Emily to get into her Nomex and meet them outside in 10 minutes to go to work, BUT, not before they took the time to scold me for having my shoes on in the house. I understand their culture and try to respect it, but I just carried two 70lb suitcases up 3 flights of stairs; I’m sweating my balls off and they don’t have the miniscule bit of respect to let Emily cool off and get situated before demanding her to be downstairs. (Just to spite them I wore my shoes around the house all afternoon while I unpacked, even trying the occasional moonwalk across the floor)


Now, we’re supposed to buy groceries so we can cook...seeing as how the nearest restaurant is 15-20 minutes by car, so we went to the store and bought a few groceries and washing detergent...totaling $120. When we get back we realize that all we have for cooking is one small pot, one small frying pan, two plates, two soup bowls, two spoons and forks...THATS IT...minus the giant rice cooker, of course, which is also labeled in Japanese. This morning we woke up to realize that A.) We don’t know how to get the hot water to work in the shower...that takes 15 minutes of hitting some Japanese labeled buttons and twisting knobs. B.) The stove won’t come on and I almost singed my eyebrows when bending down trying to get the gas burners to light. C.) Some device on the wall keeps beeping and I don’t know why...again, it’s all in Japanese. D.) The washing machine..all in Japanese, doesn’t seem to work, but then again, who knows what button I’m pushing. I may be accidentally signaling Godzilla to come take a peak and we don’t want that kind of havoc around a refinery...do we?


Like all refinery compound assignments, I hope this comes to an end quickly. Fortunately, the Japanese adhere to a strict schedule, and usually get things done promptly. Also we have 3 rental cars to share between all the crew, which means that Vito (the other road husband) and I can use a car during the day if need be...I just have to finish forging the expiration date on my international drivers license first and figure out how to read an all Japanese GPS device.

Until then, it’s back to the tiny table for me...studying some Spanish and entertaining the voices in my head while keeping my lazy eye searching for signs of Godzilla.