La Vie Luxembourgeoise

Author's Note
I wanted to write a blog post about what I do everyday, just to describe the smaller differences between my life here and American life. I started writing this while procrastinating for finals. However, since I have now completed all my finals and actually have time to write, I've found myself more interested in just relaxing and enjoying the last few hours of my European adventure. Thus, I elected to cut my story short, for it would have been wrong to continue it just for the sake of continuing it. So, I present to you, the Luxembourgish life, or at least the Luxembourgish life for a couple of hours on a Thursday.

La Vie Luxembourgeoise
I wake to the sound of my borrowed cell phone vibrating against my night stand. It's 9:00 am. A minute later, as I'm still rubbing my eyes, the alarm goes off on my alarm clock by the bed. It's 9:01 am. I shut it off and make sure it won't go off again at 9:02, like I set it to. I whip my glasses so that the sides extend and put them on. I hit the lights before I get out of bed, and I turn them off a second later when I turn on the other set of lights nearer my table.

I grab my clothes for the day, and walk down the creaky stairs to the bathroom. I put some eyedrops in, take my glasses off, and put my contacts in. I then shower, much quicker than I would in America because I know that utilities are ridiculous here. I dry off before I step out of the glass box, and then shave and comb my hair. I dress, and then head back upstairs. I return back downstairs a second later to grab my breakfast - bread and nutella. I could honestly eat it every day for the rest of my life and be satisfied. I drink with my breakfast some sort of juice, always enjoyably.

I hang out for a while, and I leave at 9:56 to walk to the train station. I climb down the two flights of stairs, stopping halfway to put my shoes on, and then I exit out Norby's front door. I turn right and head downhill on the Rue des Charbons. I pass the Portuguese bar on the corner that always seems so lively. I cross the Rue de Canal, stopping to pause at the oncoming traffic. I still don't understand Luxembourgish traffic laws, so I always wait until I know the cars are going to stop before I cross the street.

I pass the Portuguese futbol bar on the left side of the street, and I pass the little, new, Italian cafe. I walk by a bridal shop on the right side of the street, just before turning left on the Rue de l'Alzette. It's a busy street, especially at this hour. People crowd the pedestrian shopping street, leaving the center mostly open for the occasional car. There are no trucks today, since most deliveries are on Mondays, and Fridays are the days they pick up trash.

I pass the Apple store on the right side of the street that offers leases on laptops. I wonder at who would ever lease a laptop? I pass the chocolate shop that I've never been in, and the first of three lingerie shops I pass everyday on my way to school. I turn right on the Avenue de la Gare when I get to the BNP Paribas bank with the ATM. I walk past the cafe called "Chez Kill" where I had coffee once, it was just ok. I turn left on Rue or Avenue or Boulevard, John F. Kennedy. He was pretty much the last great American loved by Europeans, so pretty much every city has a street named after him.

I cross the street once I get to the crosswalk in front of the train station, that is, after pushing the button and watching the signal "Signal kommt" flash several times. I enter through the strange, semi-revolving doors that are pushable and pullable from either direction. I go up the stairs on the left, passing the sign that says, "Direction Petange." I stand on the platform, usually for about 5-7 minutes, since I have this innate desire to be early for everything. It's near insanity.

When the train pulls up at 10:17, I'm not surprised, since by this late in the morning, trains are almost expected to run late. Thankfully it's not too late. I enter the train and take a seat by myself on the bottom level. Today, since it's past rush hour and the train isn't too crowded, I sit in one of the four-seater units, and have enough room to put my backpack on the seat next to me and stretch my legs out. I watch out the window as we pass Belval-Universite, Belval-Redange, Belvaux-Soleuvre, and Oberkorn before my stop in Differdange 16-18 minutes later. I hop off the train, and head down the stairs beside the elevated tracks.

I turn left at the bottom of the stairs and walk under the overpass on which the train rests. I walk past Das Boot - the Miami student population's favorite bar, bar none. I pass the elementary school, but the children aren't outside playing today. It's cold now, so I can see them frolicking in their classrooms through the huge glass windows. I walk up the driveway of the elementary school, right after passing the wonderful pizza place, Smile Pizza, where one of the nicest ladies in Differdange works and teaches me Italian. I then walk up the large staircase, taking the shortcut up to the Chateau. Earlier in the year, the local teenage drug dealers would wait there and yell the few english words they knew at the passing MUDEC students. Now it's cold, and they are not there anymore. The path is slippery and icy, but I manage by trudging through the snowier part of the walkway, dodging the low-hanging pine branches. I round the corner and enter the open gates of the Chateau. I enter through the side door, pushing in the access code and pulling the door open.

I wipe my feet off on the mat inside the door. I head down into the cave and rotate the combination on my lock one click so that it pops open. I put my scarf and jacket in my locker, and then throw my econ textbook back in there. I move to the other side of the chateau and take my seat in one of the comfy armchairs in the corner. I fiddle around on the computer for a bit, not really accomplishing anything, just trying to waste some time before class.

Let's pretend I have poli sci class and my hitler class on Thursdays. I don't, but it will better exemplify a typical day here at the chateau if I did. So I go to poli sci class. I sit in the second to last row in the back of the room, and crack my laptop open.

Yeah, I take notes in class on my computer, but while our aging professor trails off (as he often does) I find other ways to entertain myself. These include such things as sporcle, facebook, stumbleupon, and looking up the random facts our professor mentions in class. Yeah, it might not be the best use of my in-class time, but whatever. I do really enjoy the class though, our professor is so swag. I mean, this guy was the former Luxembourg Ambassador to the USSR during the Cold War, and then served as a Luxembourg Ambassador to Belgium and NATO. Oh, did I mention he's like 84, a lawyer, still officially serves as Chamberlain to the Grand Duke, was caught in WWII as a 17 year old in Luxembourg. The whole story goes that as Germany occupied Luxembourg, they were going to force him (our Professor) to go fight for the Nazis on the eastern front against the Russians. But, the night before they were going to be sent out, he purposefully jumped down the stairs on his ankle to sprain it so that he wouldn't have to go. They let him stay, and shortly thereafter, he ran away into some forest in Germany. He eventually made his way into contact with French people living in the countryside and hid out with his Czech friend he met in their forced labor camp. He eventually made it to American troops and was able (barely) to convince the commanders there that he was not a German spy, and survived the war. Crazy.

Class goes fast, usually. Our prof throws in these random stories of his life into talks about the EU and the WTO. We've heard about his time in Moscow, about his time at the London School of Economics, even about how he's tried, "smoking grass," as he put it. Class is replete with other people slacking off and playing on their laptops. Our prof doesn't really know how much technology works, so he struggles with the projector often. His voice is like a lullaby, as in, it's very soothing, and he trails off at the end of every sentence, practically asking you to fall asleep in his class.

Once class is done, I file out the back door (since I sit in the back of the class), and get in the lunch line. The food distribution system isn't exactly the most efficient system ever created, but it gets the job done. I stand in line for a couple of minutes, idly fiddling with my pen and then fork, knife, and tray. When I get to the window through which food comes, I grab myself a slice of cheese and an ice cream sandwich before receiving a bowl of pasta from the chef. I respond with a quick, "merci" and move out of the way. I walk around the corner into the cafeteria and put my tray down at a seat at one of the round tables. I don't know why people sit at the rectangular tables - they are so crowded. Then, I go back and grab a couple slices of bread, some napkins, and check to see what kind of soup they have today. It looks like some sort of pea soup. Pass.

I sit down, drink my chocolate milk, and devour the rest of my food. For some reason, I find myself always hungry at lunch, which is ok because the pasta is delicious. After I eat until I could eat no more, I find I still have roughly thirteen pounds of pasta left. No problem though - I just go down to the cave, grab my tupperware, and pack that pasta away for dinner later. The food has been excellent, always.