Bongo, I've a Feeling we're not in Massachusetts Anymore!

Our transatlantic flight was delayed at least an hour, all passengers on board. The hurricane warning kept a queue of 15 or more planes grounded, our being the last. I didn't sleep much as we crossed the ocean, though I did try, but my excitement mingled with over-tiredness shocked my system to a near state of ADD. Thankfully my seatmate liked to talk a lot and so did the steward facing us from our seats in the bulkhead. Robert, Navneet and I talked the night away (classical music, Swedish mattresses, cross-country cycling trips) and then watched Slum Dog Millionaire, a film I've waited a long time to see. It was the perfect opening to a trip in to another world. The preemptive forewarning that later held me together as I witnessed similar circumstances throughout my trip. I could not image what it meant for a child to live in filth in a shanty of cardboard, foraging in the gutter for food, toys, and merchandise to resell.

Finally, finally, we landed in Brussels. I said goodbye to my new friends, and spent the next 20 minutes trying to refrain from dancing down the near kilometer-long hallway to immigration. It was hard. Along the way I stopped at a WC to wash up and take some water. When you see something for the first time, everything in your view is delightful. Well, that included the WC. Yes, I took pictures. The moment i stepped through the door, I burst out laughing for it was so different. They don't have stalls, but tiny, individual toilet rooms with heavy doors. The toilet paper is odd too, though quite sensible. It comes from a dispenser in sheets of two so that you don't accidentally over-draw and waste half a meter of paper. After brushing my teeth (of which I have a video, yes, yes) I moved back out to the hallway where I was soon distracted by a pair of statues looking opposite directions. Of course, I had to stand there and take a million photographs, posing with them.

There is something about those first few steps on foreign turf. You feel electricity shoot through your veins as you say those words: Bongo, I've a feeling we're not in the U.S. anymore. It is a crazy, crazy feeling. Just when you didn't think you could stand any taller, you're suddenly walking on the ceiling, and if the ceiling weren't there, you'd be walking on the clouds.