EU Pride and Prejudice

Last night we attended a reception for the launch of a US environmental campaign, a massive consumer engagement initiative which brings together companies and government agencies to help people drive down their carbon footprints. For example, campaign partner Marks & Spencer is encouraging its customers to lower their washing temperature to 30˚C, a car insurance company offers up to 15% off its standard rates to clients that drive an environmentally friendly car, London mayor Livingstone is setting the good example by refraining from flushing the toilet if he had only a pee, etc…

We spoke with a few American environmentalists who praised the EU for being light years ahead of the United States in terms of advanced and innovative environmental policy development. They acknowledged that EU best practice and existing standards provide valuable guidance for incorporating environmental concerns into the US national agenda. I was thrilled and flattered. For once, we are the role models. I guess my husband got way too excited because at a certain point I heard him saying that in Europe we are very glad the US is finally moving towards “the adoption of policies we developed and implemented 20 years ago..” Wow, wow, cool down, I thought, or they’ll ask us to repay all the Cheddar cheese my grandma got from the Marshall Plan.

Anyway, for a change we are seen as a world leader in something, and it feels good. True, Europe has become a safe haven for terrorists but hey, at least we teach those damned jihadists to lower their washing temperature to 30˚C.

Impact of EU harmonization on dance parties

Going to the party thrown by the Austrian Consulate... in the elevator with a Polish couple... sidelong glances between me and the woman. Panic. I was in a white linen suit and golden stilettos, she was wearing a flowery hawaiian shirt and flip-flops. “Am I overdressed?” I leaned over my husband and whispered, “No, no…”  he replied. She whispered something in her husband's ear and he replied “Nie, Nie…”

Turned out the party was a full blown celebration of personal styles.

This is what we call EU harmonization: one party, 27 different interpretations of the dress code.

A Desperate Finale

The other night we went to a very popular bar in the West Village to meet some friends. They were Belgians and I thought that, like all Belgians, they were friendly, good-natured and genuine people. Plus, they take their beer seriously and deserve the highest admiration and praise for that.

However, all this Belgian goodness surrounding me made me feel guilty about all the fritoland-bashing stuff I write on my blog. I had to order another drink to wash off the guilt. Guilt-free, I looked around and suddenly realized people were dressed in roaring 20's flappers and gangsters outfits. I turned to my husband:

Me: I like this place, it’s cool.

Husband: we never go to bars.

Me: well, that’s because this is a hook-up bar and you’re not supposed to go to hook-up bars with your husband.

Husband: all bars in Manhattan are hook-up bars.

Me: then what’s the added value I get from living in Manhattan?

Husband: you don’t have to wait one year to watch the new episodes of Desperate Housewives?

Right, and tonight is the grand finale: time to grab that remote control, stand up and sing the American national anthem as a token of profound admiration and deep gratitude and knock myself out on the couch.

Those 2 hours difference between communism and capitalism

I already forgot what it is like to propel yourself out of the office early like a rocket launched from Cape Canaveral, skipping a meeting or leaving your report unfinished because of the gift you have to buy for your friend’s birthday and all stores in town are closed after six. And you finally make it to the store, panting, it’s twenty to six, you’ve got enough time to choose something more thoughtful than a chocolate box and have it wrapped but, as you step in, the shop assistant or owner looks at you in outrage and contempt, as if you just tried to sexually harass her dog and she wants to eat your guts with mussels and fries, and bitterly spits out 'Mais, Madame, we're closing in 20 minutes...'. You gave her the look of death, the defying I-am-not-leaving-until-I-get-my-f***ing-gift gaze. If only I could strangle her. Not only her. Also Karl Marx, bring him back to life and show him what he's done to Belgium. Forget Russia, Karl, there're three Prada stores in Moscow and as far as I know they're open until nine. Let's get focused on Belgium: would you please shout out loud once and for all that what you wrote is a bunch of crap?

Now things should be different. Yet I can't get my mind around this paradox: if NY is the city that never sleeps, how come department stores close around 8 and thus the sudden urge to buy new sunglasses I got yesterday at 7.30 went unfulfilled?

"We appreciate the opportunity to serve you"

I love customer care service in the US. I am and I will always be a very annoying customer in this country. Why? Because here I can. It’s pretty much like the Russian immigrants who had a considerable part in the falls of the Israeli governments in the 90s. Why? Because for the first time they were able to fully exercise their political rights. Likewise, I come from a country, Belgium, where to have my brand new Sonicare toothbrush charger repaired or replaced I had to engage in a 3-month long email exchange with Philips' customer care whose only outcome was a very long email with instructions on how to operate the toothbrush. In Dutch.

Only one year later, when I moved to NY, I was able to finally enjoy my toothbrush thanks to Philips' US customer care; 5 minutes on the phone with an agent and a new charging station was delivered free of charge within three business days. Now you're talking!

Last week it was the food processor's turn. I left the cover on the cooker while I was making dinner and the heat melted it. I contacted KitchenAid. My argument was pretty much along the lines of "your instructions booklet doesn't say the product is not designed to resist the effects of a nuclear reactor explosion". My new cover should be arriving within 7-10 business days, free of charge. Dank u wel!

Mannekenpis' revenge

We nearly jumped out of our skin when we learned yesterday that a colleague who moved to NYC last September decided to go back to Brussels. I find it hard to get my mind round such odd choice. There are job-related considerations behind her decision but also a sense of discomfort or disillusionment with the city. Culture shock? Too many rats? Bagels not cheap enough? I don't know, but this revealing article from the Guardian offers some good possible answers (thanks to M. for sending that!)

The little differences

"You know what the funniest thing about Europe is?"

"What?"

"It's the little differences. A lotta the same shit we got here, they got there, but there they're a little different."

Pulp Fiction, Vincent and Jules

I arrived in NYC on September 16th. I didn't do much the first week except for my apt-hunting. Actually, I'm still not doing much except apt-hunting... Anyway, a couple of days later stef and I went to buy a book at duane reade on 42nd. In this simple act of walking to the store there was a combination of amazing and unique features that only someone who's spent her last 4 yrs in brussels can truly appreciate:

-it was 10.30 pm and shops were open;

-it was sept 20th, 10.30 pm and the temperature was about 25 degrees -celsius-;

-my outfit was barely one level up the pajama degree of decency and acceptability and no one was staring at me;

-streets were urine smell free;

-no 25 year old drunk layabouts with dogs receiving a 1000 EUR a month from national insurance begging outside the store;

-I got a 5 USD reward coupon from duane reade after one week of membership as opposed to collecting barely 300 points a year with delhaize or GB cards which would entitle you to get a used toothbrush in the best case scenario.