Final observations on Europe before we get back to unicorns and wombats

Hi everyone, sorry for the lateness of this post. I was traveling back from Berlin. It is good to be back in Seattle, though I am jetlagged and look kind of like someone just punched me in both eyes. Today I realized I have lost 5 pounds, which gives me a great idea: The Vegan Balkans Diet! Basically, just become a vegan, then go to the Balkans.

Since I’m jetlagged and trying not to fall asleep until at least 9pm, I don’t know how coherent this post is going to be. Berlin, Germany was really great, except that people were kind of rude, saying things like “You do not have an account at this bank? Then no, you may not withdrawal money here” and “Stop! You can’t just try to break off a piece of the Berlin Wall at this museum!”

We arrived just as news broke about the NSA listening to Angela Merkel’s cell phone. Reactions to us Americans were mixed, leaning negative. “I was a fan of Obama,” said one taxi driver, “but not anymore.”

Overall, this Fellowship has been amazing and exhausting. There is a lot of information to process for months to come. Before I leave writing about Europe, and get back to talking about unicorns and wombats next week, I want to capture a few last thoughts and observations:

• Politicians in Copenhagen are efficient, collegial, and seem to get along even when they disagree on policies. That’s right, politicians can disagree on policies and still grab a beer together! This is so not true in the US for the most part, where a simple disagreement on something can lead to fist-fights at the farmer’s market and a burning hatred for two decades.
• That being said, the smorrbrod, or open-faced sandwich, is one of the most inefficient ways of eating anything. One piece of very dry rye bread, pile all the toppings on, and then try to eat it with a knife and fork. Plus, it is expensive as hell living in Copenhagen. I saw a Twix that was 7 dollars. No wonder the nonprofit structure is underdeveloped there. Nonprofit staff would not be able to afford the time or money to live in Denmark. We don’t have three hours to eat a $26 smorrbrod.
• Religion is important in Europe, but it is considered a private matter and it is highly distasteful for politicians to use it as a tool for election. They find it bizarre when our presidential candidates talk about their religious beliefs, and even worse, when inaugurations and other formal occasions include prayers and blessings. “Religion here is like a penis,” said one of the politicians that I met, “it’s OK for you to have one. But don’t wave it around people’s faces.”
• Gender dynamics varies from country to country. In Denmark, men and women are pretty much equal, with the top three highest posts in Copenhagen politics all held by women. In other places, it is different. In Lisbon, Portugal, for example, the waiters served all the women first. I found this the hard way when the waiter skipped over me when serving dinner rolls, which was very annoying, since I am vegan, and dinner rolls with some olive oil were all I could eat!
• Immigrants all have a hard time in the various countries we visited, except maybe Portugal. Discrimination has been more subtle (“So, do you drink?” to find out if you’re  Muslim during a job interview).
• The Roma community seems to be having the most challenges in almost all countries, and it is heartbreaking the few times I saw women and small children sleeping on the grass or cement. Some countries have strong welfare systems, but if you don’t have the right papers, you’re pretty much screwed, and also because of the strong welfare system the general public is often complacent to help.
• Immigrant girls seem to be doing best in school, sometimes even out-performing the local kids. They are leaving the boys behind, which often creates resentment, and then they don’t want to marry the underperforming men from their culture, creating other problematic dynamics within the community.
• The Balkans’ traditional alcohol, called Rakia, aka “Balkan moonshine,” is not for the weak of stomach. It is made by fermenting fruit and, I believe, turpentine. It is a great digestive, and, when necessary, lamp fuel.
• According to most “normal” people we met, the EU is incredibly boring, just 700+ Eurocrats who hand down obscure legislations to the rest of Europe. National media are loath to cover EU stuff because it is so boring. When I left, they were considering my suggestion of fabricating a good scandal to increase public interest.
• Belgian chocolates are pretty good, but quality varies. Some of it is way too sweet. I daresay that our artisanal chocolates in Seattle can compete on the same level with some of these European chocolate makers.
• Europeans are continually amazed and inspired by how open Americans are. We’ll invite just about anyone to our Thanksgiving dinner. In Europe it is harder, and you might have to know someone for twenty years and maybe marry them before they’ll show you where they live.
• The Danish concept of “hyggeligt” (pronounced something like “hoogly”) is very prevalent. It means something like “cozy, with a sense of intimacy and contentment” like “this dinner party is so hyggeligt.” It’s great, though they didn’t understand my “yo mama so hyggeligt” jokes, e.g. “Yo mama place so hyggeligt, it smells like fresh-baked blueberry muffins.”
• Serbians have a great and biting sense of humor. On a plane there I read an article that ends with something like, “I hope you, dear reader, will tell people about this interview that you just read. Mainly for your sake, since it means that your plane hasn’t crashed.”

And I’m very happy that the plane didn’t crash. I’m glad to be back. I missed my family. I even missed my staff and only yelled at them a little bit for forgetting to water the office plants. I am ready to get back to life and to my projects here, including working on 501c3 The Musical, which will now be kicked into full gear, once I catch up on The Walking Dead.

Serbia, nonprofits, Breaking Bad, and veganism

Hi everyone. I am so exhausted. I don’t think I have thought this intensely for this long a period of time since, I don’t know, maybe the first season of Game of Thrones. I am now in Serbia in the city of Belgrade, some place that I never thought I would be. No one really says, “I want to go to Serbia for vacation” or “We’re going to Serbia for our honeymoon” or “Congratulations, you just won a free trip to Serbia!”

And that’s too bad, because the city is beautiful. Belgrade has been fought over in 115 wars and burned to the ground 44 times in its history by various armies. But, except for the buildings bombed by NATO during the Kosovo War in 1999, everything looks great, with shiny glass buildings standing harmoniously next to ancient architecture. I have been trying to absorb everything. There are some painful memories of the brutal atrocities committed during the tumultuous past, a significant part by the Serb army, but as a whole the country is trying to move forward with its future, a major step being joining the European Union.

The past few days have been intense. Besides the constant flow of information that requires thinking and analysis, we have been meeting with European alums of the program, which leads to fascinating conversations. Thank goodness the US politicians managed to negotiate a brilliant deal to kick the can down the road until early next year regarding the shutdown, because it has been embarrassing for us American fellows. I was surprised to learn just how closely everyone over here follows our US politics. “During major debates,” said one of the European alums, “my friends and I get together and make popcorn. It’s like a movie for us.”

The shutdown fiasco, in some ways, has made the US more approachable. “It was very thoughtful of you to do that,” said one Serbian local I met over dinner, “Now we don’t feel so bad about our own crazy fringe politicians who are also trying to destroy the country.”

The typical European dinner lasts for three years, and wine is heavily featured, which has led to some great discussions about politics, philosophy, and human nature and stuff. Lately I’ve also been heavily engaged in arguments about veganism, especially here in Serbia, where the national food seems to be meat. The typical meal here starts with a meat salad, followed by a giant plate of grilled meat, then, for dessert, a refreshing meat sorbet. I’m only exaggerating a little bit.

“Vu,” said an alum from Serbia, “how can you not eat meat? Life is so short. Did you watch Breaking Bad? To be vegan is to be Walter White before cancer caused him to reevaluate his life. He was not living.” Walter White, I said, made terrible choices throughout his life, including not getting life insurance, choices that led to the death of dozens of people, many of them innocent. For more than an hour we argued, and I’ll spare you the details, but it amazed me how philosophical and knowledgeable people are over here about American culture.

Today, we met with two Executive Directors of local nonprofits. Unlike the stylish ones in Brussels and Copenhagen, these two look like real EDs: hopeful, tired, passionate, frustrated, humble, maybe suffering from a slight drinking problem. Here in Serbia there exist thousands of nonprofits. From the conversations we had, it seems they struggle just as much, or even more, than we are in the US. I nearly cried with empathy when one talked about how they are struggling to be sustainable, since funders have been refusing to pay for administrative expenses, only programs. Despite the huge number of nonprofits, the public still is ignorant or leery of them, a remnant of the Milosevic era when nonprofits were considered spies and traitors against the dictatorial regime. “So I got a name plate,” said one of the EDs, “and it said my name and ‘Spy’ on it and I put it on the front of the office.” We laughed, and it was a great sign that things are moving forward, because doing something like that in the past might have led to imprisonment or death.

After the last meeting today, I loosened my tie and walked around, breathing in the Belgrade air. I have never worn a suit and tie this often in my entire life. Miraculously I found a tiny vegan place that sold baked tofu and seitan and sandwiches, and I nearly hugged the sweet woman shopkeeper, overjoyed and relieved. “I don’t speak many English,” she said when I explained I was vegan, “but you no worry. No egg. No dairy.” It’s been several days of bread and pasta, for which I have been thankful, since this trip has been an amazing and life-changing opportunity that will likely never come again.

Still, it was so nice to have some food I could eat without wondering if it contained chicken broth or bacon fat. I bought some sandwiches and went to a nearby park and sat down on a bench in front of a statue of a local hero. It was evening. Three teenage girls were taking selfies on their phone. People were drinking and laughing in the numerous restaurants all around, munching on their grilled meat. A homeless man, carrying bags of cans, went around checking the trash bins while cars drove slowly, navigating the cobblestone streets circling the park. Above and surrounding us, buildings rose upward, some new, some old, many probably having seen the destruction of Belgrade during the countless wars. I ate my vegan sandwich and took a moment to be grateful for this trip, for having the chance to experience Belgrade during peace time. You know, more people should think about Serbia for their honeymoon.

Related post: “9 Lessons from Breaking Bad We Can Apply to Nonprofit Work“

Europe’s nonprofit structure: The good, the bad, the stylish

The past few days have been intense, filled with 10 to 15 hours daily of meetings with government officials, local business leaders, education leaders, city planners, etc. The lunches and dinners are also packed with interesting stuff. In Copenhagen we toured the city by bicycle, learned about the port’s development while riding down the canal on a boat, talked with top officials of the Danish Parliment, got a briefing from an association of employers, had dinner with an industry leader in her office, toured and chatted with the publicly-financed radio and television station, rode the light rail and learned about its development, spent a night at a wine maker’s mansion and learned from him the challenges employers are facing with the inheritance tax and the high costs of hiring workers, toured a “ghetto” where many of the immigrants are living, and sat through a beautiful opera where I was struggling to stay awake after 12 hours information.

Each of those events would make a great blog post, if I had more time and weren’t so lazy. With everything being so fascinating, I didn’t think it was taking a toll on me, until one of the other fellows told me “Every morning, it looks like someone had broken into your hotel room and beat you.”

“Oh yeah?” I said by way of a comeback, “well your face looks like a smorrbro [the traditional Danish open-faced sandwich] that had gone bad.”

The above is only half the stuff we have been doing, though. Between meetings, I have been able to talk to the locals, interviewing the taxi drivers on their views of the welfare system, questioning waitresses on their thoughts on the education system and the European Union. Each of us fellows also get paired up for one-on-one meetings with local leaders around topics pertinent to our work back home. For me, those topics include immigrant integration, the nonprofit structure, the education system, and where to find good chocolate. I only have a couple of hours until our dinner meeting, so I’ll focus on the nonprofit structure and will explore the other topics, as well as how Europeans perceive us Americans, later.

The nonprofit structure, as we know it, does not really exist in Europe, as least not in Belgium and Denmark, where I’ve had a chance to explore. Or maybe it does, but not nearly to the same extent that we do in the US. I had dinner with an Executive Director of an umbrella organization that is trying to build capacity of the local groups here. Right away I could tell that there is a marked difference between our two countries, as “Laurent” looks young and healthy, even stylish, in contrast to us EDs in the US, who are worn, gaunt, beaten down by time and stress, our hair gray, our faces marked by crisscrossing wrinkles, the results of too many annual events and endless nights worrying about budget gaps and which staff we may need to lay off.

“Almost 100% of my funds come from the government, who set the money aside each year,” said Laurent, chewing on his gnocchi with pesto sauce at the modest Italian restaurant we were in, “so 90% of my time is spent working on improving programs.”

“90%!” I said, nearly spewing my Belgium Leffe Blond beer onto Laurent’s boyish face and fashionable scarf. “What…what about fundraising events?” I asked, “Do you ever do those?”

“Never,” he said, and I had to drink some more beer to keep from crying. The people here pay high taxes, which go to take care of basic needs of the public like food for the low-income, and healthcare and education for everyone. Individual donations are rare, as most people consider themselves already giving what they could to the greater good through their taxes. With the State taking care of so much, there are few nonprofits here, and those that exist seem to get dedicated funding set aside for them each year, allowing them to not worry too much about sustainability. They can focus on their work. In a way, this is a remarkable system.

On the other hand, there are plenty of weaknesses. The government cannot possibly take care of everything, leading to huge gaps in services and innovation. It has made me think of how ridiculously creative nonprofits are in the US, with programs to teach kids leadership through gardening or cooking or radio, to help seniors through art or dance, to build community through biking or neighborhood cleanups or whatever. These are things that seem to not be as prevalent in the two countries I’ve visited. Some of the gaps are vital services that have not risen to the level of national attention; for example, the plight of abused children in Denmark, who go unnoticed by the government and general public, as few nonprofits exist to amplify their voices.

Another weakness is who gets funded. If you get a slice of government pie for your organization, you’re pretty good. If you don’t, finding funding will be incredibly difficult, as individuals don’t give, and major corporations, also paying high taxes, do not feel an intrinsic obligation to give to local causes. “They give to the local football [soccer] team,” said Laurent, “because it is tangible. Everything else, they think the State should take care of it.”

It is especially challenging for the immigrant and refugee communities, whose unique and diverse cultural needs cannot possibly be handled by the government. These cultural associations have a hard time in the US, and doubly so in Belgium and Denmark and I would guess other countries in Europe. Most are volunteer-driven, falling under the umbrella of an organization like Laurent’s. And Laurent, an ED here, does not understand my point about the importance of funding these groups to move them out of the voluneer model and into a sustainable one with full-time staff and professional credibility. “If we fund them to hire full-time staff,” he said, “and the staff leave, they take with them all the connections to the community. Volunteer community leaders, however, usually stay, so there is sustainability.” This mimics the inefficient model we often see in the US, where nonprofits led by communities of color are deprofessionalized, paternalistically sheltered under the aegis of a “wiser and more sophisticated” umbrella organization that absorbs 95% of the funding while the smaller organizations do all the direct service work. Here it might actually be worse.

In Denmark, the social welfare system seems to be even stronger, which means nonprofits have even less of a presence. I talked to “Hannah,” a woman who is passionate about her work with abused kids and I was shocked to learn how little the government knows about and protects this vulnerable population. Hannah has been having a hard time finding funding for her work.

“People see me on the TV,” she said, “and they send flowers and chocolates, saying what a hero I am.”

“Flowers and chocolates?” I said, “you need money! Tell them to send you money and get their friends to send you money!” In my righteous zealousness, I started elaborating on the US nonprofit structure, with its ED and board and development director and program director and strategic plans and individual donors and stuff, concepts that are completely foreign here. Hannah’s eyes lit up. “Please,” she said, “email me about your American nonprofit structure. Maybe you should move over here and help me set this up!”

This is kind of a tempting prospect. Maersk, the Danish shipping company, just last week donated $200 million to the Danish education system. From what I hear, this is very generous, but the Danish education system is well funded by taxes. This gift from Maersk would be much better spent to close the cracks in the social welfare system, cracks that passionate people like Hannah are trying to tackle with very little experience and support.

Despite all the flaws of our nonprofit structure in the US, a structure that ages and burns us staff out and makes us resemble beat-up leather shoes, it nonetheless has some great stuff going on. We are more creative, honing our programs to target specific needs of our clients. Our donors and corporations feel more of a sense of duty to help strengthen our community.

Still, we can learn a whole bunch of stuff from Europe, too. I would love it if funding were as stable so that we can spend more time—90%!–on actually improving our services instead of trying to keep our organizations surviving for one more year.

I’ll be thinking more about these things as I visit the other European countries. I just arrived in Lisbon today and will be observing Portugal’s various systems. Will write more later. There is a lot to think about.

Marshall Fellowship Day 5: Lost in Beer and Chocolate

Disclaimer: Vu is on travels in Europe with the Marshall Memorial Fellowship and writing quality, general coherence, and spelling and grammar, may be affected by Belgian beer.

Mall where I got totally lost

Day 5: I just returned to my hotel in Brussels after a fun and intense day that spanned from 8am this morning to 11:30pm. So far, Brussels has been an impressive city with beautiful architecture, friendly people, environmental conscientiousness, and a vibrant energy. Really, the only thing I can complain about is the toilet paper. Due to the city’s green-focus, the toilet paper at this very nice hotel is like no other, combining the softness of sawdust with the smoothness of sandpaper.

I’ll talk more about Brussels in a minute, but first I wanted to recapture the intense last few days. Day 2, DC, had us and the European fellows visit American University for a lecture on American culture from an amazing professor, who basically said that we in the US are rallied around the verb “to do.” We focus on actions. This is why when we first meet someone, we ask them right away what they do. We focus on individual accomplishments and earned status. We hate asking for charity, and that’s why we say things like “Can I borrow a cigarette?” On the opposite end of the spectrum are cultures rallied around the verb “to be,” where relationships, group accomplishments, and ascribed status take precedence over the individuals’ actions and merits. Europe, with its long history of royal families, fall further along on that end.

“The US has never experienced the intensity of war like other countries,” he continued, moving on to dissect the history of the US and its strengths and weaknesses. On the way out of the lecture and during lunch I talked with other European fellows and learned of the horrific things their families had to endure. “The Germans came and destroyed 70% of Warsaw,” said one, “everyone on my mother’s side of the family was killed. Then the Soviets came…”

The flight was fine, except for the few instances of strong turbulence that made me very glad I had written a letter to my baby son just in case I died unexpectedly. We arrived in cold and overcast Brussels at 8am.“You cannot fall asleep,” said the Marshall program staff, “we booked a walking tour of the City and then lunch. You have to stay awake or you will be severely jetlagged.”

So the band of 15 ragged, exhausted fellows and our tour guides wandered the City, red-eyed and disheveled, looking like zombies or government workers affected by the shutdown. Luckily, Brussels is beautiful and full of life and chocolates and beer. We quickly perked up, seeing the splendor of the royal palace and the beautiful mall with its cathredral-heighted ceiling. All of a sudden it hit me that I was in Europe, with its ancient history and buildings that have witnessed thousands of years of strife and sorrows and rebirth. These beautiful buildings are a testament to humankind’s resilience and drive to survive and build and rebuild.

I was lost in these thoughts, and then I looked around and realized I had lost my group. I was lost in Brussels! I ran ahead to see if I could catch up, but they were nowhere to be found. My phone had died, so I couldn’t call anyone, and there are no pay phones anywhere. For the next 45 minutes I wandered the city, trying to find a phone, talking to people who looked friendly. Most people here speak French, so I tried to speak the limited French I had, and it is pretty awful, despite six years of studies. For some reason, probably jetlag, random useless French words kept appearing in my head. “Parlez-vous poisson,” I wanted to say, “je veux danser dans une biblioteque.” Do you speak fish? I want to dance in a library.

Getting lost was actually extremely enjoyable. Adrenaline kicked in, and I was focused, and the French came back. Brussels was beautiful, so full of colors and interesting shops. I was able to explain to a lady that I had lost my group and that I needed to borrow her phone. She was skeptical, but softened as I looked at her with these puppy-dog eyes, which would probably have been more effective if they hadn’t been blood red and twitching uncontrollably.

No response when I called the staff. I took a taxi to the restaurant, hoping that they would keep their schedule and head there also. No one was there, but I asked someone in French what time it was, and I was ten minutes early. I waited, and the group showed up. Everyone clapped. Apparently, one of the staff had come back and shouted my name at the mall. Others were freaking out. “We thought you might have been kidnapped. Or passed out in the alley from lack of vegan food…”

Lunch was done at 3:30, and we tried to power through to at least 8pm to avoid jetlag. So of course, we went out for beers, because nothing is better at warding off jetlag than to drink beer. The Belgians are crazy about their beer, and a whole culture has developed around it. There are over 2000 types of beer here, or so I’ve heard, and you know what, all of the beers here kick our beers’ butts. I’ve never been a fan of beer, but I’ve really liked the ones here.

Two bars later, we came home at 9:30pm and promptly crashed, proud of having achieved our mission of staying awake for 35 consecutive hours. Today we woke up early and toured the small and charming city of Bruges, famous for its bridges and well-preserved ancient buildings. We had dinner with the editor of The Guardian newspaper and more European alums, where I learned of the minority voice to dismantle the European Union and other challenges the EU is facing. A fellow from Hungary told me of the struggle his country is facing—the high unemployment rate, the migration of skilled people out of the country, the discrimination against the Roma, and the insane country leader. Hungary has suffered greatly from the occupations of the Germans and the Soviets. “Both my grandfathers died in the War,” he said, “and my mother and her relatives were sent to Auschwitz and other concentration camps. Some survived. Not many.”

I have to go to bed. It has been an illuminating trip so far. Tomorrow, we visit the European Union as well as NATO headquarters to learn about collective security and immigrant integration. It’ll be another 8am to 11pm day, so I better down my to-go beer and go to sleep.

Marshall Fellowship Day 1: A Boy and His Pig

Disclaimer: Vu is traveling through Europe (Brussels, Copenhagen, Lisbon, Berlin, and Belgrade) for the next three weeks with the Marshall Memorial Fellowship and will be using this blog to reflect. Due to the intensity of the program and the amount of wine imbibed, spelling, grammar, and general quality of writing will be shamefully lacking.

***

Day 1: The program has started off pretty well. I am in DC for the first time and find the city to be pleasant. There are 14 other fellows, and they are an impressive and intimidating bunch who have accomplished a whole bunch of stuff. After our orientation and reception today, for example, this conversation took place, which I am not making up:

Me: So, what do you do?

Fellow 1: I am an elected official, and I also founded an orphanage in Kenya.

Fellow 2: What?! No way! I am an elected official too, and I have founded SEVEN orphanages in Kenya!

They laughed and started talking animatedly, forging an instant bond that only exist among people who have opened orphanages. Then they turned and asked me what I did. “I direct a nonprofit that helps low-income immigrant families,” I said, “and, uh, I have 12 orphanages in Kenya…”

Even more impressive than the American fellows are the European fellows. While we American are touring European cities to learn their policies and culture, they’re doing the same by touring our cities, though I think they’re getting the short end of the stick. I mean, seriously, I get to go to Berlin and Lisbon…and they’re visiting Memphis, Tennessee and Billings, Alabama.

This evening, during a welcome reception, we mingled with the European fellows, and I was put to shame by how much more knowledgeable they are about everything. Each of them are fluent in four or more languages, including this one Spanish dude who is fluent in Mandarin after living there for eight years! They spoke eloquently and knowledgeably, comparing our government to Europe’s, which made me feel awkward and inferior, like I had stumbled out of some backwoods rural town into the big city, wearing overalls and carrying a pig that I was going to sell in order to buy some kerosene or something.

“You know,” said one European fellow when I asked him what he appreciated most about the US, “as, how do you say, corny, as corny as it is to say, I think the US has bigger hearts. You still try to help people. You, for example, work for a nonprofit. You want to help people. In many ways, I think we are more cynical in Europe.”

Another fellow expressed her surprise at how much beef we eat over here. “I have never eaten so much beef in my life.” All of them seemed surprised at our debate on gun control, shocked by someone from the NRA they had talked to.

At one point, feeling awful, though I was wearing a suit and tie and was looking quite dashing in a put-on-your-best-overalls-and-sell-that-pig sort of way, I wandered over to two fellows who were talking about Alexis de Tocqueville and his views on America and whether those views were still relevant. One wanted to refute de Tocqueville’s view. “We Europeans often say, the EU should be more like the US, based on de Tocqueville’s observations,” said one fellow, “but de Tocqueville formed his views when America was a small, struggling country. Now it is much bigger and the circumstances have changed.” The other fellow started piping in with his thoughts, mentioning how de Tocqueville had predicted the rise of the Soviet Union as a superpower, and even the Cold War. I stood there, sipping on my wine, nodding thoughtfully.

What is clear already from this first day on the trip is that we Americans have huge gaps in knowledge. “You do not need to learn other languages,” said a fellow from Poland, “because you think you are the center of the world.” We laughed, but it was apparent that this is a general perception people from other countries have of us. And in my ways it is true. Only until we got accepted into this fellowship did many of us American fellows pay any attention to Europe. No doubt America is a great country, with big hearts. But our US-centric views blind us to all the lessons that we could learn from other countries.

“What do you think of de Tocqueville, Vu?” I was asked. Luckily, in my preparations for this trip, I had read up briefly on him.

“De Tocqueville stated that a great strength of the US is that we have no ideological school of thought. He said no where else in the world do people care less about philosophy, an attribute that has let us focus on productivity and progress and less time being divided among different schools of thoughts. Unfortunately, from my perspective, we now have small but loud factions in our society, fundamentalists who form their thoughts around their values and then presents those thoughts and values as the quintessential ‘American’ ideology that they then defend to detriment of the country.”

I was going to say all that, but one of the American fellows tapped me on the shoulder and said, “We’re going to a bar,” so of course I chugged my wine and left.

Tomorrow, we have more orientation. The Europeans fellows will leave to visit American cities, while we take a red-eye flight to Brussels. I’m very excited. I mean, Brussels is the capital of the EU and is the headquarters of NATO. We will get to visit both. But just as importantly, Belgium is supposed to have kick-ass chocolate, and I’m willing to sell my pig for that.