Today we had class and gave short informative speeches by describing the most interesting place we saw this weekend, a culture shock, and a Kodak moment. My favorite place was Notre Dame because there was so much to study and observe. Culture shock was that I felt so safe in Paris…I rarely felt like I was in a bad area for pick-pocketing but I’m always on guard in Brussels. My Kodak moment was a mini photo shoot in front of Moulin Rouge. In the documentary class we made outlines of our groups’ plans for filming different subtopics.
After class we went to the last old-fashioned brewery in Brussels. There used to be hundreds but only this one survived WWII and bankruptcy. They still use copper boilers, wooden barrels, and avoid the use of added chemicals or advanced processes. They do it all the same way their founders did in 1900. It makes for a sour beer made naturally, no added sugar. The only yeast they use is in the air so they let it ferment for 3 years. They have other varieties made with fruits as well. The tour guide told us all about how their process, how it’s different from modern varieties, and about how much he dislikes Americans. I think he dislikes us. Sometimes it seemed that he appreciated us because we give them more business than the Belgians give them. But then he blamed us again…I don’t quite understand his strategy other than I’m sure he had already been paid so he just told us whatever he wanted. We saw the other Clemson group there at the brewery and chatted for a little bit.
While daring myself to taste the beer sample with a smell that repulsed me, someone told me that they had been reading my blog. I was astounded that anyone besides my mom and my boyfriend even looked at my blog. I found out that I had believed some propaganda. While correcting some factual errors here on the blog, I realized this must be how Europe got wrapped up into World War II. The power of propaganda, the confusion of multiple perspectives...there was so much insight in Eddie’s brief lecture about communication and understanding in class this morning, and I wonder if it was coincidence or destiny.
Realizing that I might have been told lies and that I wrote the wrong information, my face began to get red out of frustration with the propaganda. Of course, questions became overwhelming and I started to tear up. I’ll be quite honest with you here: I have emotions but I typically don’t understand what they are when I have them. It seems that I have a reaction but I don’t know the direct cause. Needless to say, I definitely don’t talk about my emotions if I don’t understand them.
After class we went to the last old-fashioned brewery in Brussels. There used to be hundreds but only this one survived WWII and bankruptcy. They still use copper boilers, wooden barrels, and avoid the use of added chemicals or advanced processes. They do it all the same way their founders did in 1900. It makes for a sour beer made naturally, no added sugar. The only yeast they use is in the air so they let it ferment for 3 years. They have other varieties made with fruits as well. The tour guide told us all about how their process, how it’s different from modern varieties, and about how much he dislikes Americans. I think he dislikes us. Sometimes it seemed that he appreciated us because we give them more business than the Belgians give them. But then he blamed us again…I don’t quite understand his strategy other than I’m sure he had already been paid so he just told us whatever he wanted. We saw the other Clemson group there at the brewery and chatted for a little bit.
While daring myself to taste the beer sample with a smell that repulsed me, someone told me that they had been reading my blog. I was astounded that anyone besides my mom and my boyfriend even looked at my blog. I found out that I had believed some propaganda. While correcting some factual errors here on the blog, I realized this must be how Europe got wrapped up into World War II. The power of propaganda, the confusion of multiple perspectives...there was so much insight in Eddie’s brief lecture about communication and understanding in class this morning, and I wonder if it was coincidence or destiny.
Realizing that I might have been told lies and that I wrote the wrong information, my face began to get red out of frustration with the propaganda. Of course, questions became overwhelming and I started to tear up. I’ll be quite honest with you here: I have emotions but I typically don’t understand what they are when I have them. It seems that I have a reaction but I don’t know the direct cause. Needless to say, I definitely don’t talk about my emotions if I don’t understand them.
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