My friend Isabelle graduated from Ghent University ten days ago.  Yesterday was a second ceremony, honouring Engineering graduates from four Belgian universities – Masters and PhD students.

You can see Isabelle in the photo.  She’s the one in the middle of the back row, wearing blue.

Isabelle and I took the train from Ghent to Brussels in the darkness.  The ceremony would be starting at 9:00 am.  She was so excited, and nervous.  Me too … the excitement part.

Every grad got to walk the long balcony of the ornate Brussels city hall, say a few words into the microphone, and have their picture taken.  Every single blue-robed human being was cheered by us the crowd of supporters.

Maybe there were 150 grads facing us.  I felt into the hours and years of effort that had brought these young people to this moment.  And I felt the love floating through the air from us to them.

One young man was the valedictorian.  He told us that his ideas about aeronautics were rejected by some people at his previous university, but embraced and fostered by colleagues at Vrije Universiteit Brussel (The Free University of Brussels).  His words inspired me.  At the reception afterwards I tried to find him … but no luck.

Isabelle and I wandered for hours down the cobbled streets of Brussels Centrum.  No agenda, just our noses leading us on. 

We sat in a lovely park of trees and grass and playground, made much more so by the presence of many kids and teens – playing football, riding on contraptions, wrestling each other … hanging out.

At a nearby bench sat a young woman wearing a hijab, looking down at a white bundle on her lap.  I smiled.  “Mom and child.”  Such love in the gaze.  My reverie was broken by Isabelle drawing something to my attention – a thin line protruding from the bundle at a 45 degree angle.

Oh.  No baby.  She was on her cell phone.

At some point we came upon a statue.  It was a man named Tim singing into a microphone, his mouth as wide as his arms.  I did what any normal Belgian/Canadian fellow would do: I sang to Tim, arms also outstretched. 

The song was “O Solo Mio”.  Unfortunately I didn’t know the words, but that didn’t matter.  I made them up, in my best Italian. And I sang loud!  (Feels better than “loudly”)  Isabelle said that passersby smiled.  Me too.

Later we sat in a grand church but the wood was hard on my ass and back.  Everything seems coloured by my fatigue.  I asked that we leave.  Isabelle’s ass agreed.

***

And now I’m tired some more

You get the yesterday idea

Bye for now

My friend Arlene is a force of nature.  She’s in a brand new world for three weeks … and she wants to poke her nose into all the life that’s here.

Arlene came to the open mic session on Friday evening to hear me sing.  We got talking to a young woman who’s a museum curator(?)  Some word like that.  Arlene wanted to know all about it, and she looked thrilled that the woman and her boyfriend were curious about her.  And so the conversation flowed.

Yesterday Arlene was out and about in Gent.  She not only figured out the transportation system but also found a magnificent church to worship in – one that I’ve never been in.  My friend is a major explorer.

Today Arlene is off to Bruges (Brugge in Dutch), another ancient Belgian city and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  I asked her yesterday if she wanted my company today and she delightfully said “No”.  Yes to telling the truth!

She’s taken the tram this morning to Gent Sint-Pieters, our train station.  It’s full of murals and remarkable ceilings.  I’m sure Arlene will be looking up a lot, and lingering in the view.  And who knows what will beckon her in Bruges?  I told her “The world is your oyster” … but she doesn’t like oysters.

Tonight I’ll get the full meal deal of Arlene stories.  Lucky me.

Arlene, my friend from Canada, has been in Gent for three days now.  I wondered what I would say today with the written word.

Years ago I coached 12-year-olds about their writing.  For many of them, the tendency was to say “This happened, then this happened, and then …”  I encouraged kids to focus on one or two things and flesh them out: bring them alive for the reader.

So … guess I should follow my own advice.  I knew Arlene was a devoted Christian and thought she would enjoy sitting in churches.  I suggested my favourite church in Gent: Oekraïense Grieks-Katholieke Kerk – the Ukrainian Church.

We entered.

Two Canadian eyes opened wide.  I was delighted to see my friend brought to silence.  She sat with me some but mostly wandered through the sanctuary.  I watched her linger long in front of a statue or painting.  And then beyond my field of vision, exploring the mysteries.

I meditated.  I had told Arlene that whenever we were in some place, please stay as long as you like.  We’ll go when you want to.

I also said that it’s fine to talk to me when I’m meditating.  No problemo.

***

I heard my friend’s voice.  Time had disappeared for me, and I had no interest in checking my watch.  She was fine with leaving.  And so we did.

Later Arlene shared her wonder.  “The blue!”  Referring to the royal blue domed ceiling of Oekraïense Grieks-Katholieke Kerk.  The intricate carved wooden pulpit.  The statues of peaceful faces.  Jesus with his arms outspread.

A place of reverence

A place of peace

A place to simply stop

She was one of my wife Jody’s best friends.  After Jody died, Arlene remained my friend.  And here she comes … across the ocean for the first time.  Europe!  Gent!

I get to have my second Canadian visitor.  Tomorrow at 9:00 am or so, we will hug each other in Brussels Airport.  It’s been four years.

Who is Arlene now?  Who is Bruce now?  What are we becoming?  All part of the mystery.

I want Arlene to be happy here.  What does she want to do?  What spots does she want to see?  Whatever the answers, may they be sprinkled with conversation … between us, and also with the wide variety of humanity that we’ll see in Gent, that she’ll see in Amsterdam and in Normandy.

My wish is that Arlene’s eyes open wide … drinking in the ancient buildings, the outdoor terraces, the languages, the cultures – the life!

Will Arlene get a glimpse of the home I feel here?  I intend that she does.  May she fly high through the new, the old and the forevermore.

Welcome, my friend