We landed in Liege, Belgium at five in the morning. The bus to Brussels didn’t come until seven thirty. The glass building we had to wait in for two and a half hours was cold. drafty. unpleasant. Andrew walked around to find a warmer spot. We moved our bags and sleepy selves to an elevator bank in the middle of the lobby that opened up in front of what looked like a banquet room. Higher, and surrounded by another layer of glass, it was warmer. I laid down on the floor using one of the backpacks as a pillow. And then the banquet lady came. I actually don’t know who she is, but she was not happy to see us. She told us (en Francais) that we had to move. I asked why. I told her we were cold, that there was no one around, and assured her it would not be a problem for us to stay there (in what I thought was Francais). I don’t think she had any coffee yet, because she didn’t take my response well. She threatened security on us. I think I responded that there was no security in the building… like there weren’t any other people in the building either. Because, I’m sure, there really wasn’t. There was me. Andrew. one other girl from our flight. and this crazy lady.
“‘Whey’ is ‘why’ in French as well?” Andrew asked as we sat there for a few minutes, not wanting to give in so quickly.
“Oh. no. I guess I was also speaking Korean to her…” I responded. Andrew laughed. (I totally forgot until later when our new friends reminded me that ‘Whey’ is the slang version of ‘Yes’ sooo maybe she was just angry I was being so informal with her, when in fact, I was just speaking Korean to her.)
We moved back down to the drafty part of the lobby. Nobody showed up to the banquet room before we left. I was really hoping we would run into the banquet lady before we left so I could say “Ohhh Regard tous les persons!” which is the only French I could think of saying after a night of no sleep and eight years of no practice. (I know, I know, it’s probably wrong…)
We took a bus to Brussels. Got a waffle. Then a train. Got a waffle. Then another bus to the airport. Got some french fries. We tried to sleep. Checked into our flight. Went through Passport Control. Got grief about how full my passport has become. Slept at our gate. Found out our flight was delayed. For four hours. Ate some terrible airport food. Boarded our flight. Arrived to a rainy Casablanca. Paid too much for a taxi into the city. Arrived to our couch surfer hosts’ apartment close to midnight and crashed.
