Save the World, EAT MORE FRITES!

Once in awhile you have those moments in life where everything clicks into place. You realize THIS IS WHERE I AM MEANT TO BE. Here, I am using my talents to make the world a better place. It’s almost as if, for one frozen cross-section of time, you can see the earth from an eternal perspective, and yourself in it, just one of billions of people, seamlessly woven into the basket of humanity, working together to build something beautiful, something greater than anyone could build alone.

That is how I felt reading this article titled, “Belgians urged to eat frites twice a week to deplete coronavirus potato mountain,” which was written by—I kid you not—James Crisp. FOR SUCH A TIME AS THIS I was born into this world! Never have I felt more able to genuinely help during an international crisis when we are called to stay home. Yes! Yes I can—and I WILL—do my part! Even though I am not Belgian, I accept this call to work (eat) for the good of the city where we live. It seems only natural we should also double our Belgian beer consumption…you know, to help out. I can’t sew masks and I can’t find a cure, but I CAN sit at home, I CAN do school with my kids, and I CAN EAT EXTRA FRITES! I can and I will!

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I also read last week that tulip growers are drowning in flowers usually bought by tourists. We are very close to The Netherlands and for about €50 we had 200 tulips delivered to our doorstep Tuesday. We are shy about our bad French and how loud we are when we have all the windows open. Chris was cool and made us introduce ourselves to a few neighbors in the cold dark days of winter (with much reluctance and whining on all of our parts), but generally we’ve been pretty introverted since we crash-landed here. I’m not totally sure what possessed me, but I knew I didn’t need 200 tulips and I couldn’t reasonably pawn them off on my family to disseminate.

So we waited until all our neighbors came out to clap for essential workers and wave hello at 8pm, and then, without stopping to think too hard and chicken out, I quickly gave bouquets of tulips to all my neighbors! Dozens and dozens of flowers! I explained in bad French that we moved in at Christmas and, while we are studying, our French is still terrible. I discovered many of our neighbors actually speak fine English.

Since the beginning one neighbor plays music so everyone has a rhythm to clap along to. Another neighbor brought out her guitar one day and made everyone sing along to a song no one knew at first, but now everyone is catching on. Another neighbor left wild May Day flowers on our doorstep. Isaac and Eloise made a fort out of umbrellas in the driveway. A kid across the street danced.

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As quarantine begins the slow process of lifting next week, many things will start to change back to normal, and many things will for now stay the same—all summer festivals are canceled, school is officially digital the rest of the year, and travel plans remain uncertain since we still can’t go more than 20 miles from our house. But this—the 8pm neighborhood hello—this is something I hope we don’t lose!