Belgium and the Vandiests

It was a bit of a fluke that I ended up in Belgium the year after graduating from DPHS. I was never all that involved with the AFS Club and never had a lifelong passion to become an exchange student. But my mom was good friends with the President of the local AFS committee and somehow the two of them thought I would make a good candidate. I obviously did not over-rule them.

When the letter arrived saying I had been chosen to live with a French-speaking Belgian family, I was not over-thrilled. I had studied Spanish every year since 6th grade and did not know a word of French. But I am a quick learner with a good ear for language. So, we hired a neighbor whose native language was French, and she gave me a 30-day crash course. By the time I had landed in Belgium, I was not far behind the other kids who had been studying French for years.

Our year abroad group to Belgium was about 40 students, equally split between girls and boys. We were flown to NYC for two days of orientation where we began the process of getting to know one another. It was hard not to be impressed with them all. Smart, personable, ambitious – it was easy to see why they had been selected. I wasn’t so sure about me. I was just a shy kid from Dos Palos, and this was my first trip to the east coast and the Big Apple.

After orientation, we flew to Brussels and spent the next seven days at a country retreat in additional orientation and language training. About three quarters of the group were going to Dutch speaking families, so our French group was on the small side. We ate all our meals together and played games after dinner on the nearby playground. I was a bit more athletic than most of the other boys, so it was easy for me to become the natural leader while playing tag football and soccer.

After nine days together with this remarkable group, I felt as if I had made some lifelong friends and it was a sad day to have to say goodbye and meet our Belgian families. It turned out that my family (the Vandiests) lived only 10 km away from the retreat venue, so we didn’t have to travel far to get to my new home away from home in Genval.

The Vandiests were a family of six. Papa worked in the local paper mill as a manager. Maman was a stay-at-home mom. The oldest daughter Linda had already moved out. The twins Roland and Phillipe were my age, and the youngest girl Veronique was just 9 years old. It was not a gigantic house, but I was able to have my own private bedroom.

And so began the saga of my adjusting to life in Belgium. The language, the food, the cobblestone streets, the tv shows, the school system, the Catholic church – everything was different than back home. To help me process all that was going on, I began a daily journal which I continued for the entire twelve months that I was in Belgium. That diary is still on my bookshelf and is one of my cherished possessions. I poured my heart out privately in that book and I think it played a major role in helping me keep my sanity for the entire year.

Someday I will get around to getting the diary typed and write more extensively about it. My handwriting is barely legible, and the print is quite small, so it doesn’t really work to just copy the pages.

I plan to write more extensively about my year in Belgium in a future post. I could easily write an entire book on my experiences. But for now, let me just focus on a few key takeaways.

1. I learned I really did belong in the group of 40. I had never interacted with a group of kids my age who were so smart and talented. I think I was a little shell-shocked at first. But as time wore on, I began to see I was just as capable as they were, and in some cases, maybe even more so. My Dos Palos roots and work ethic gave me a definite advantage over the more wealthy, urban kids.
2. My Belgian mother and father showed me what true love is all about. They treated me fairly and with respect. They were proud to introduce me to their friends. I really did feel like I was part of their family.
3. I learned that I have a gift for language. I worked extremely hard learning French and speaking it without an accent. Fast forward 54 years. I can still speak semi-fluent French with a Belgian accent. When I’m in France speaking with locals, the first question I often get is are you from Belgium?
4. My Belgian basketball teammates treated me like royalty and that felt good. I helped them win a lot of games which they were not used to. When we went to the pub after each game, they introduced me to everyone in sight, and we all had a great time together drinking Stella.
5. I maintained my relationship with maman and papa after I returned home. Liz and I traveled to Europe and saw them on six different occasions. They travelled to the USA to visit us five times. On her last visit Maman attended Lance’s graduation from Cornell and Kyle & Mel’s wedding.