Jade collected her bags and was
surprised when no one even questioned her at customs. She even found the bus to the city center
with relative ease. In fact she was
rather proud of herself, and enjoyed her bus ride while thinking to herself, ‘I’m in Belgium!’
Up until the point, that is, that
the bus driver had to inform her, in English no less, that this was the last
stop. He had already said so in French,
twice, and everyone else had gotten off the bus, but Jade was happily
clueless. Until she was mortified. And, to make matters worse, she was
travelling with an ungodly amount of luggage, so it took her a few moments to
collect all of her things and arrange them in a fashion conducive to being
moved off a bus by a single person. And thus, before she knew it, Jade was
almost literally in a heap in the middle of Brussels, and she had no idea where
she was, especially in relation to where she needed to be. Nor did she exactly have a point of contact…
Surely this wasn’t what her
parents had been so worried about, was it?
‘I mean, worst comes to worst,’ she thought to herself, ‘ I can always
stay in a hotel.’ Secretly this was
tantamount to defeat to Jade, but she needed a little reassurance at this
point, and she damned sure wasn’t going to call her mother for it. Largely because she was afraid her mother
would say ‘we told you so,’ and insist that Jade come home.
But Jade was out to prove
herself, mostly to herself. So after 15
or 20 minutes of fumbling through her guidebook and looking intently at the
French/Flemish bus stop sign, Jade resigned herself and asked for help. There was only one other person left nearby
at that point, a middle aged gentlemen who replied to Jade’s question as she
asked it, in French. Of course, Jade
couldn’t exactly understand his reply, as the only French she knew was what she
had read out of a book on the plane ride just before.
So, she calmly asked him back,
“Je ne comprend pas; parlez vous Anglaise?”
He then told her, “Yes, the metro
is just over there. Where are you trying
to go?” as he pointed across the circle.
Jade saw some escalators in the general area he had motioned toward.
“The American Embassy. Do you know where that is?” Now truthfully, let’s consider how many
people randomly know where any embassy is in their own city, particularly an
embassy that does not belong to their own country.
But Jade was lucky this time, and
the man told her, take the metro two stops and get off at Arts Loi. You will find it a little ways down when you
come out.” And with that, he left.
So, Jade set off toward the
escalators, with a garment bag, a large purse, a backpack stuffed to capacity,
and a large rolling suitcase. She
probably looked like a crazy person, but she was determined to fit in, and so
she held her head high as she neared the subway. The escalators seemed not to be working,
which struck Jade as odd on a Monday morning, but because she didn’t want to be
mistaken for an ignorant tourist, she was undaunted and took the adjacent
stairs, her wheeled suitcase loudly slamming down every single step. She did not realize that the escalators had
motion sensors until, having arrived at Arts Loi and dragged all of her bags up
the stairs, a woman walked right next to her, onto the lifeless escalator, and
as she stepped on to it, the escalator jumped to life and carried her down into
the metro.
One part of her wanted to laugh
at her mistake, the other part was mortified that she had been revealed as a
foreigner, and so Jade decided not to think about it. After all, she was ultimately succeeding in
her quest; she was, according to the man’s directions, almost to the Embassy. Jade’s new place of work, starting tomorrow.
One thing that bothered her
still, though, was how quiet the sidewalks and the streets were. After all, it was Monday morning in the
capital of the European Union – where was everyone? But just as this question began to nag at
Jade, she saw an American Flag out of the far left corner of her eye, and she
thought to herself, ‘hah! I did it!’
Before she could gloat though,
she had to once again dig through her rather large purse to find her
passport. And though she held it in her
hand as she approached the embassy gate, the short marine outside stopped her
anyway.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we’re
closed.” He informed Jade. Which is right about when she thought she
felt her heart stop.
“What?! How can you be closed?
I’m an American. This is the American
Embassy. I have a job here and I don’t
know anyone. I don’t have a place to
live, or even a place to stay. I’m
supposed to contact my boss when I get here, and he works here. I don’t even have his phone number, just an
email address.” She held out her
passport while she ranted all of this information off, really it sounded more
like a plea for help at this point. The
short Marine let her in the gate, and soon she was telling the whole sob story
to another Marine, even shorter than the first, inside the gatehouse. Clearly this Marine could see that tears were
on their way, and he reassured her, probably before he even knew what she was
talking about. He took her boss’s name,
and while Jade waited and stubbornly refused to cry, the world’s shortest Marine
kindly called Jade’s soon to be boss.
Who, it turns out, was the director of his entire division, not only for
all of Europe, the US mission to the EU, and also Africa. It also turned out that he just so happened
to be in Venice, Italy that day.
As Jade soon learned, not only
was it Memorial Day in the States, but it was a Bank Holiday in Belgium and
indeed, the US Embassy was closed. The
cute little Marine, though, must have interjected on her behalf, because when
he turned his gatehouse microphone back on to speak with Jade, after hanging up
the phone with her new boss, he said “not to worry. The Director of your department in is Italy,
but he is calling his housesitter to come and get you.”
After showering copious, genuine
thanks upon both of the short Marines, Jade was ushered back out of the Embassy
gatehouse, where she sat on her giant wheeled suitcase for only a few minutes
awaiting the arrival of the rescuing housesitter.
Jan showed up quickly, and hopped
out to meet Jade. He was rather pudgy
but very nice, and he worked up a bit a sweat while stuffing Jade’s luggage
into his tiny car. Clearly he had not
planned on picking up someone with lots of luggage today, and it was really
good of him to drop everything and race into town on a holiday to pick up some
poor tourist.
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