Adventures in International Dating... Solving the Puzzles

Have you ever gone out with someone, everything seemed right, I may even say perfect and then in a 72 hour period everything changes? You get a visit from someone telling you that he no longer wants to see you because he "can't give you what you want" although the question about what you wanted never came up? It has happened to me recently and it left me very puzzled. The questions bubbled up in my head. Did I do/say something wrong? What happened in those 72 hours in which we did not see each other? What or who made him change his mind? This is someone who on our first encounter his eyes were imprinted on my mind. Someone who quickly made me smitten, who I can laugh at his jokes, who although I met in a cold January I could picture a summer with him.
Our time together was limited due to our travel schedules but the brief moments, even the mundane ones sitting on my couch meant something to me. I smiled as I read the sweet text messages and felt his anxiousness to see me again. After a 2011 filled with disappointment I thought this was my reward for all I had endured. For all the times I swore I never would date a Belgian man again, this Flemish man was quickly finding his way into my heart.
It was exactly five weeks from the day we met when I received the "we need to talk" warning as we had a date planned that evening. I already had the feeling before hearing it from him. I guess I have dated enough to know it. I have done the talk myself to others. However, there is something about hearing those words, live from that person that really sinks the reality into you. I know I have complained about the "Houdini" the person who disappears before on this blog and how much that hurts. I don't know if having the person you can see yourself falling in love with telling you that "I just don't feel it anymore, I just can't give you what you want" hurts more or less. The tears slowly streamed down my eyes and there was not much to say. I am a firm believer that no one should make another person stay. There is only one choice but to let go. As I opened the door to let him leave I just hoped that the universe somehow would bring him back. That was not up to me to decide.

A few months passed and time began to heal its wounds. As I get older, I see that the failures of the past compound the freshest of wounds. It seems sometimes as if the smallest of falls seem bigger that what they really are. I always thought of him but there was nothing I could do about it. Some people think we have to "fight" for the person we care about. I think people should like you for who you are, not because of a movie-like grandiose gesture.

I started to acknowledge that was just a small memory in the collage of men who I had love or liked and lost. To learn to appreciate the good times and have hope to relive those feeling with another person who feels the same way about you. When all of this began to make sense to me, he walked again into my life and when our eyes met again, I had the same feeling all over. Part of me was trying not to acknowledge this and the other part wanted to continue the chapter I had so painfully closed before.

This time we met on other circumstances. We were in a group of friends, trying to be friendly, both pretending that we were over those five weeks we spent together. I would find his eyes crossing mine and his deep gaze as we danced. As alcohol fueled the evening, I had to ask the question. "Why can't this work?" I got the same response as I did ten weeks ago. "I just don't feel it anymore, I just can't give you what you want". During this same evening, I also discovered through my friend who was oblivious of our history that his previous chapter before me may not be over.

From my past experiences, I have learned to keep details from the past very short. Sometimes, the more we know about the past the more we begin to compare ourselves or make hypothetical scenarios. I try to think that this is my time to make memories in the present and future, not to dwell in the past. Now I wonder now if that was a mistake.

That evening I accepted an invitation to his home to dinner. My friend was visiting from the US and he wanted to be hospitable. Apparently something made him feel more open about his feelings to my friend. My assumption is that he had nothing to lose telling a stranger about his life. The dinner conversation had snippets of the previous relationship that I was not aware of. Those snippets also made me believe that he has not closed that chapter of his life yet. Not in the way that he is still romantically involved, but in the way that he is still not over her. This same evening we danced, the same eye contact of our first encounter. We take a picture and you can clearly see the chemistry. I had to ask third parties as I was so puzzled I thought my mind in my loneliness was inventing these feelings. Third parties concurred with me, there is something there. On our walk to my car, I find his arm around me, keeping me warm. So many things unexplained. Does he like me? Does he like me and his failure to move on is what keeps him from “not being able to give me what I want”? Did an encounter with his ex in that 72 hours period before our demise led to the breakup? Will this ever evolve beyond our current status where we pretend to be friends with him when I am not interested in just being friends?

The answer to these questions more than likely is that I will never know. The fact is that as much as I get knocked down, I am an optimist. I believe in love. I also believe that although tears can be shed and disappointments felt, the feeling that you can get from that first encounter is completely worth it. Win or lose.

24 Hours in Champagne

So what does one do with a friend who her Air Force and civilian career at Apple has taken her everywhere from Australia to Brazil? How does one impress her? She has been to a lot of places, but never to the Champagne region of France.  With limited time, the three of us: Saskia, Hans (my 3 series), and I headed to the land of tiny bubbles, Epernay.
This was my second Champagne experience.  My first experience was in 2007 other friends. We went to Rheims, the other main town in the region. There we experienced the cave of Veuve Clicquot, one of my favorite champagnes. For being the land of the tiny bubbles, the town was very quiet so we decided to bring the party. The three of us bought bottles of Piper Rosé and plastic champagne flutes and drank outside by the main square.  It was a warm summer night, perfect for champagne and an impromptu party. As we listened to our iPods and danced by ourselves, some looked at us puzzled and to our surprise we got nods of approval from the older ladies of the town.

Waiting for our tour at Veuve Clicquot

This time it was a Monday and quite limited time for a makeshift party but enough time for a tasting and a cave visit. I wanted to do something different than Rheims, so we went to Epernay, the home of Moët & Chandon, and one of Saskia's favorites.  We made a reservation for a English speaking tour at the cave. Our tour guide was Japanese with a poor command of English. Itwas a little frustrating because there was a significant gap with the language and understanding the processes of the cave. She was doing the best she could but it would have been a more informative tour if someone with better English speaking skills would have been available.  With that thought, we both wished that we could have done the tour in French. The cave was dark and coldas we walked through the process of not only Moët but also Dom Pérignon as it is also made in that cave. Our forty-five minute tour concluded with a tasting of the Imperial and Rosé Imperial. Overall it was a nice experience despite the language barrier of the tour. I must say that I enjoyed the tour of Veuve Clicquot much better. Afterwards, we decided to explore the city just to find out that there was not much to see. Epernay is much quieter than Rheims but just as the other city, there is champagne everywhere. So we sat the rest of the afternoon in a cafe drinking champagne and indulging in cheese and pate de campagne.

At the end of our Moët & Chamdon tour

Tiny Bubbles at Moët & Chandon

For dinner we indulged in the local fare at La Cave a Champagne, a small local restaurant.  The food was delicious from the foie gras with confit de champagne to the duck we had for dessert.  The service was good and we were quite impressed with the speed in which the food was served. As we finished dinner and started walking back to the hotel around midnight, we noticed everything was closed. Guess no nightcap.
The following day we headed back to Brussels. As we began our journey, we drove through the touristic route of champagne, where you get to see the vineyards and the smaller champagne houses.  We stumbled into the house Champagne Dumagin, where we had a free tasting, which was a pleasant surprise and we walked away not only with champagne but with champagne confit we indulged in the night before.
Although short, these short journeys reinforce why I love living in Brussels so much.  In three short hours I was in a completely different land.  From the chaos of Brussels, I was in a beautiful land of rolling hills, delicious food, and tiny bubbles....

Las Cuestas Cuestan: Review of the Madrid Marathon

Unfortunately, there is no way to translate the title but I can give it my best interpretation.  Hills in Spanish can be called "cuestas". Cuestas also mean "cost".  As I was struggling to run up the many hills the Madrid Marathon had to offer, I heard a runner telling his buddy this.  It was something that stuck with me for the rest of the race.  Those hills truly cost some energy!
My marathon training started well, I was extremely committed to my runs. I was out there rain, shine, or snow.  Halfway though my training I was hit with the flu which kept me on the sidelines for three weeks and I have to admit the training after that was as productive as it should have been. I ran the Berlin Half-Marathon at a decent time so I thought that I was the path to run a 4:30 marathon. Key word: thought.
The Madrid Marathon expo was quite small compared to the Berlin Half Marathon or my last marathon, Prague.  Although smaller, the staff was friendly and we were able to pick up our packets and shirts quickly although there was a extremely long line for the 10k participants. We saw an insane line to get into the pasta party, so we did not even bother.
That evening,  I arranged for all the runners and friends to meet for dinner at La Gloria De Montera (good food, great prices, crappy service) for a little carbo loading.  I got the idea from a fellow runner, Lida who arranged a lunch last year in Prague and it was a great way to meet other runners. Dinner brought these runners together: two Americans living in Germany, a Czech living in London, an American living in Washington, a Australian and Brazilian living in Madrid, and me, a Puertorican/American living in Brussels.  It was great to exchange race stories and give each other support before the race.

Pre-race chow...

The race was very well organized.  We started right on time, which was great.  One of the things I noticed throughout the race were people on Rollerblades carrying vaseline and some type of muscle spray which I thought was a great detail that I have not seen at other races. The race was a tough one, filled with hills which are my weakness.  At mile 17-19 we went through a park which I believe was one gradual hill. At this time my morale was gone. I try really hard not to walk during marathons, but this one really sucked everything I had. Not my finest moment but I knew that stopping was not an option. The spectators in Madrid were amazing, wonderful to have someone encourage you in your darkest running hours. The crowd in Madrid was awesome,  it was nice to get that "animo" during the toughest parts.

We started together, we finished together...

The last three miles were the toughest, it had many hills and the last two kilometers were a gradual incline.  When I was discouraged the most, I felt a tap on my shoulder, it was Khalilah, my fellow Marine who I came to Madrid to run this marathon with.  Her, being an instructor at the Naval Academy is in way better shape than me, the weekend warrior.  I thought she was coming back after finishing to help me push it to the end. Just so happens she was still running as well. It was not our most finest moment. This was her 6th marathon, this was my 4th and we were on our way to running our PW (Personal Worst).  Although the morale was down, we pushed each other to the finish line. Of course, she beat me by 20 seconds.  But K and I are Marine Officers, we share a very special bond. We've supported each other through deployments, we've lived in each other homes, we're family, and as Marines do, we start together and we finish together. It may not have been my best, but it was a great feeling to have someone who I love and respect crossing that finish line with me.  I wanted to cry but a. I was even to tired to cry and b. K would have made fun of me....
The race was tough, even for a marathon veteran like Lida (this was her 49th marathon).  It may have not been the best time, but I am grateful for the challenge and for my health which allows me to run. Next marathon: Munich this fall. Need redemption....

Road Trippin' Part III: Final Destination

On a sunny Friday morning we left Marbella for Madrid.  We had breakfast with our gracious hosts at the Urban Villa and hopped into Guiletta for the last leg of our grand adventure.  We planned to have lunch in Úbeda, the hometown of another Spanish friend of mine on our way to Madrid.  The drive was very picturesque and peaceful. As we approached Úbeda, we went through local routes lined with rolling hills of olive trees, it was absolutely stunning. When we arrived, we saw a beautiful little town which can easily be the inspiration for a fairy tale.  The city center was on top of a hill facing the rolling olive hills, surrounded by renaissance structures. 

Rolling Hills of Úbeda

I indulged in a plate of the morcilla (blood sausage), a local delicacy.  I was telling the waitress how in Puerto Rico we too have morcillas but ours are spicier. The ones in Andalucia seem to be sweeter. I actually like Spanish ones better.  I started telling her the story of how we started our road trip from Barcelona to Marbella and she told me she had never been to the southern coast of Spain.  It reminded me of how sometimes we have beautiful things in our own backyard which we take for granted because we are certain they will always be there.  We may not be the ones who will always be here.  That is why I forgo some of my personal luxuries to travel throughout Europe and see the most of my adopted country, Belgium because I may not be here forever. Life takes many different paths and it is essential to embrace the present.

A Lunch at Cafe Mirador: Morcilla, Fried Egg, and Tomato 

As we headed to Madrid, my nerves started to set in about the marathon.  In less than 72 hours we would be running 42 kilometers through the hills of Madrid. The combination of excitement and fear slowly dissapeared as we met with my Madrid friends and roamed my familiar sights.  I shared with K my favorite sites in Madrid, the same ones I have discussed in previous blogs: Te Dejo Madrid and Madrid Makes Me Smile. This was my fourth visit to Madrid. Having great friends in Madrid really makes my visits more of a homecoming.  I feel truly at home when in Madrid, probably thanks to my friends who truly make their casa mi casa.....
I must admit that I was kind of hesitant when K proposed the roadtrip but I am very grateful that she convinced me to do it.  In 10 days we drove through the eastern and southern coast of Spain, we got to experience lovely cities filled with history, charm, and great food.  What makes it truly special is that we are two friends who live an ocean apart who got to do this amazing journey together.

Road Trippin' in Spain... Part II

Although we woke up to beautiful sunny skies in Marbella it was not beach weather.  Instead of lounging on the beach as we had fantasized as we prepared for our trip, we decided to enjoy our surroundings.  Our first destination was Puerto Banús.  A Spanish friend of mine had told me to beware of the place at night as it is trolling with drunk Brits. Luckily, we did not explore the nightlife, not necessarily because of the review of my friend, but because we had the Madrid marathon to run in five days. The place was nice and quiet during the day.  For those who like to shop, there was a great selection of shops, especially if you have expensive taste.  The Dior, Ferragamo, and Gucci shops were all facing the yachts which line the port.  We enjoyed daytime Banus so much we returned the following day for a nice run along the beach.

By the sea in Marbella

The following day after our run we walked around the Casco Antiguo of Marbella, a quaint pedestrian area in the city center.  We had some tapas for lunch and walked it off on the beach. K and I are convinced that it must be great to be there in warmer weather.  Given the advice of a Malagueño who worked in Brussels, we had dinner one evening in Malaga. There ride from Marbella to Malaga is around 45 minutes but it was a nice ride with great beach views.  We took a stroll around Calle Larios, the main pedestrian shopping street and by the port, where we did some shopping from the vendors lining the boardwalk.  The end the evening, we had dinner at the restaurant El Trillo where we enjoyed a delicious meal and great service. We took our stuffed bellies back to Marbella to get some sleep and go on our last adventure the following day: Gibraltar.

Indulging in Marbella fare

We figure that while in the South of Spain and with a cloudy day, we take advantage and go on one last road trip and it gives K the excuse to tell her colleagues that she actually went to the UK too.  It was interesting how the architecture, the people, and the surroundings can change so dramatically by crossing a simple border.  As we drove through the city, we saw the classic red phone booths, signs in English, and the police in the typical hats you see in the rest of the UK.  As we drove to the rock of Gibraltar, we noticed something quite peculiar:  the monkeys.  We were amused by these little characters and how they climbed onto the cars and steal the food of the visitors at any chance. We saw one snatch the bag of Doritos of a teenager. He really meant business!

The inhabitants of Gibraltar

The three days in Marbella and its surrounding towns were great.  The sun was shinning most of the time and although it was not hot enough for the beach, it was great weather for a morning run along the ocean and nice for sightseeing. As we left Marbella we were convinced that one day we will return and hopefully in a September, when the water is warm but the tourists are gone....

Road Trippin' in Spain.... Part I

On the road to the Madrid marathon my good friend (and fellow runner) and I decided to embark on a road trip through a good part of Spain. From my first visit to Spain in 2007, I have been convinced that it takes more than a lifetime to appreciate everything the country has to offer. The cultural and geographical diversity of Spain, is amazing and we were fortunate to experience some of it in ten short yet rich days. It will take more than one blog post to share our road trip experience from Barcelona to Marbella to Madrid with some interesting stops along the way with Guiletta, our rental Alfa Romeo we picked up in Barcelona.

A little bike riding in Barcelona before our road trip

 We began our journey in Barcelona, where my road companion, Khalilah and I embarked on a road trip. First stop: Marbella. The drive from Barcelona to Marbella is 10 hours so we decided to make a sleep stop along the way to a city called Cartagena, located the Murcia Province on the eastern coast of Spain. On the map, it seemed like a nice mid point to stop along the way.  After a few wrong turns around Cartagena city center, the small town seemed quite depressing and to be honest, a little scary. Given the scenario, we decided to push through to our final destination, Marbella.
In high school, I read Federico Garcia Lorca's "La Casa de Bernarda Alba" and instantly fell in love with Spanish literature. It would have been a crime to drive through Granada and not stop by one of my favorite author's home town.  The sudden change in plans was the universe telling us that we had to have dinner in Granada. The drive from Murcia to Granada was beautiful.  One does not think of Southern Spain as having snow capped mountains but we were both taken by the beauty of the Sierra Nevada as we headed to Granada.

Dinner in Granada

We arrived to Granada with perfect timing for a sunset dinner at the Mirador de Morayma.  I am fortunate to have seen many countries and landmarks but I must say that the view of the Alhambra,  from the restaurant is breathtaking.  This palace and fortress is a testament of the Moorish rule in southern Spain.  We were lucky that it was still considered low season and there were not that many people there and were able to take in the beauty with silence and a meal which reflected the roots of Granada: Khalilah had Tagine and I had blood sausage (morcilla) with potatoes and fried egg. A true reflection of the converging of the cultures in the Andalusian region. After dinner, we got a little lost on our way to the car, but it was great to see all the little cobblestone alleys and imagine all the history those walls have collected. We were sad to leave Granada but we needed to get back on the road.

Alhambra in all its glory

Around midnight, we arrive in Marbella, where we stayed at the Urban Villa, a bed and breakfast high on a mountain.  It was a clear perfect night and we could see the lights of Africa from our balcony. In twelve hours we left Catalán speaking Barcelona, almost bordering France, drove through the orange farms of Valencia, through the Sierra Nevada, to the majesty of La Alhambra, to Marbella.  This is the first part of a very special road trip through the land of one my roots.

Adventures in International Dating... Online

Ok, so I long debated whether I should write about this but I think this is something that many people do but very few admit to it.  One of the things I have noticed in Belgium is that men, especially Belgian guys can be very shy.  As some of my European friends have pointed out, talking to strangers is not as common here than in the New World. My friends and I agree that sometimes a guy can look at you all night, even send a little smile but is just too shy to talk to you.  If there is alcohol involved, maybe at the end of the night there may be an approach.  Given the language and cultural barriers, a few years ago, I decided to give online dating a try.
When you look at the big picture (no pun intended) you see what you like upfront. Some deal breakers are clearly visible even before having to meet in person.  I have not met my true love online but the experience can be so bizarre at times that after a few weeks in a state of bewilderment, I cancel my account.  After a few weeks of having a profile, I feel a little shame, beacuse the process feels almost like preparing for a job interview or selling a product.  In this case the product is you.  You show your best pictures, all of your interests, and what you are capable of. A personal marketing campaign to convince others you are the perfect companion.

Always Nicer When Written in Sugar

Although I have been on many nice dates with genuine nice men who some have become friends, there have been experiences which are not very desirable.  My third (and last) experience in online dating in Brussels was very recent. The pickings were very slim this time around but I saw a guy from Antwerp who looked promising in his pictures, similar interests, and well educated. After a few witty emails from this man I received this:  "just a disclaimer, my pictures are 4-6 years old, I now have a belly and gray hair". The music stopped. I think there should be a rule that no one should post pictures six months or older.  The issue was not whether he was a potbellied gray haired guy, but the deception.  It's not about the appearance but a reflection of low self esteem: you still want to be the person you were 4 years ago instead of embracing the person you are now.
Another trend I found was men with unfinished business.  If you have not officially broken up with your girlfriend, an online dating profile may not be a good idea.  If you are unemployed and you live in your mother's apartment, you may want to focus on finding a job and an apartment rather than a girlfriend.  There is a big red flag when a person demonstrates jealousy or passive aggressiveness before the first encounter in person.  I think it is essential to finish our inner conflicts before bringing others into our lives.
In all of my three stints I received the classic message from a profile without a picture: "I am married, I want to get to know you, I don't have my picture because I don't want my wife to know". Really? What makes me  most curious is if some women even respond to that.  It makes me think: "not only do you lack morals but you also lack basic reading comprehension as I clearly state that I am looking for a serious relationship on my profile". 
Luckily, most of the guys I met in person were polite and nice to talk to even if I did not have much in common with them.  I dated a few but nothing serious came out of it but make some nice friends from the experience.  I do know of people who have found true love online but I truly believe there are millions of ways to encounter love, but after my experience, I don't think this is for me.  One of my beliefs is that everything in life should be tried three times, as some things are an acquired taste. I decided that for me there is no acquired taste to online dating.  As for my True Love, I'll leave it up to the universe now....