Grocery Adventures in Leuven

Maria Surdokas


My first stop would have to be bread. A sandwich would be a refreshing change from the cookies and chocolate I had been eating. Remembering Dr. Forni’s warnings about selecting the proper bag for the various loaves of bread, I began perusing my options. My eyes eventually stopped at the rolls. I looked next to the bin for the corresponding bread bag but found none. There were no special bread bags anywhere on the rolls display. So I turned back to the fresh loaves. Unfortunately, my heart had already set itself on the rolls. Frustrated and upset, I walked away from the bread toward the closest aisle, trying very hard to maintain my composure.
I walked up and down every aisle in that grocery store, trying to decide what to do next. I had never gone grocery shopping by myself at home before, let alone in Belgium. On that day, only my third day in Leuven, I had set off down Schapenstraat, our street, and followed the ring road until I arrived at the GB. Happily finding it without resorting to my map, I strolled inside. And now I couldn’t even manage the simple task of buying bread. How embarrassing. All I wanted was a roll or two. It shouldn’t be this hard. I happened past the Nutella and noted its aisle for later. Nutella would be easy and deliciously straightforward to put on my bread, if I could ever buy some.
Too quickly, I reached the last aisle of the store, and was obliged to loop back around. I stood once more in front of the bread. I spied on other customers nonchalantly going about their shopping, waiting for one of them to select rolls. In order to stay undercover, I glanced at the nearby refrigerated bins, pretending to be fascinated by the cheeses, lunchmeats, and spreads. Soon, I felt uncomfortable loitering around the bread for so long and took another turn around the store. This process repeated one more time before I finally caught someone buying rolls. I can no longer recall if this customer was an older man, a harried mom, or a young student like me; all I remember is observing him or her as closely as I dared. The proper bag in which to place the rolls one wishes to purchase, it turns out, is a simple plastic bag, quite like the kind I would use at home.
So, finally feeling confident, and wanting very much to leave the GB as quickly as was humanly possible, I grabbed a bag, chose two rolls, ran back to retrieve the jar of Nutella, and headed to the checkout. Checking out was not nearly as horrific as bagging rolls. I put my lonely two items on the belt, checked the total on the screen, and paid the cashier. One last trial awaited me before I could escape the store, however. The cashier asked if I had a card for the store (a bonus card of some sort). Of course, not having learned any Dutch yet, I had to ask her to repeat, in English, and when she did, I hurriedly shook my head No. I dumped my purchase into my reusable shopping bag (at least I didn't have to deal with buying a grocery bag), and finally, finally, left the store. A roll with Nutella had never tasted quite as good as it did for dinner that night.
Eventually, my grocery-buying ability improved, and I moved on to more exciting foods like chicken, potatoes, and even green beans and brussel sprouts. I never did go back to GB, however; my loyalties now lie with Delhaize, which is closer to my residence anyway.
A significant difference between Leuven and Loyola is the lack of a Boulder or Primo’s five minutes away. Considering the fact that a diet consisting only of cereal and grilled cheese will not suffice for a whole year of meals, I have had to learn to purchase and cook real food. Figuring out which items to buy, and what exactly certain items are, hasn’t been too challenging. Although things are labeled in Dutch, most are also labeled in French. That has been particularly helpful in buying meats, because even though I still don’t know my Dutch meat vocabulary, I do know these important words in French, having studied that language for about a decade and being, in fact, a French minor. In addition, many products are also labeled in German and English. Delhaize brand products often even list at least eight different languages. If you ever wanted to know the word for salt or juice in eight languages, you simply need to study the Delhaize brand packaging. Reading heating instructions is a bit more difficult, for example for frozen foods, but between reading the Dutch and the French explanations, I can put together a fairly accurate guess as to what I am supposed to do.
While being in Leuven, I have discovered that I actually quite enjoy grocery shopping and cooking for myself. It isn’t that I disliked these acitivies before coming to Belgium; I just never tried them. I’ve cooked fresh vegetables for the first time in my life here: green beans, carrots, and brussel sprouts. I pan fry chicken on a regular basis, and, of course, rely heavily on pasta. One Sunday afternoon for lunch, I made hamburgers, mashed potatoes, and brussel sprouts. I like to refer to that meal as “Epic Lunch;” it was one of my proudest moments this semester. Another weekend, I made homemade chicken noodle soup. I truly believe that I eat better in Leuven than I ever did at Loyola. I haven’t had a real cheeseburger in months, nor fried chicken. I never ate vegetables at Loyola, and even though I do enjoy a good portion of friets (French fries), as every good Belgian should, all the walking I do counteracts the grease and delicious sauces. The “freshman fifteen” could undoubtedly be avoided if said freshman simply lived in Belgium for a semester.
Learning to buy groceries and cook for myself is something that even the kitchen-equipped “dorms like palaces” at Loyola could never teach me, and the thing that will stay with me even after some of my Dutch language skills and memories fade away. I suppose it’s just one of the advantages of studying abroad. Besides successfully buying groceries, some of the moments in Leuven that have given me the greatest pleasure have been those when I have had entire encounters with Belgian people only in Dutch. It makes me feel as if I have successfully fooled them into thinking I am one of them. Even though there is somewhat of a language barrier here, English is spoken almost as often as Dutch. Shopkeepers will immediately switch languages when they notice you are not Belgian, even if, perhaps especially if, you try to speak Dutch.
One of my favorite of these encounters was with an older man at the Alma, the cafeteria-like restaurant that offers cheap prices for university students. I went to one of the stations and the man began putting together the meal (I had strategically picked a station that had only one meal option). While scooping potatoes and spooning vegetables, he spoke to me animatedly and laughingly. I just smiled and nodded along. To this day, I have no idea what he was saying, but he remained in character the entire time, right up until my shy “dank u” and departure from the station.
This experience was one of the first times I remember feeling as though I definitely belonged in Belgium. I was eating at the student cafeteria, ordering by myself, and this man was happy to see me and help me out. At least, I am assuming he was being nice and not mocking me. Since then, little by little, I have begun to feel even more in control of my life here, and that this is the place I am supposed to be.
I have decided I really like Belgium. It is my country; I can handle it. Admittedly, it did take me the greater part of the semester to get to this point. Twenty years of feeling shy and minimally self-confident doesn’t just erase itself upon stepping off a plane in a new country. Recall the almost-disaster of my first grocery shopping endeavor. After this essay, I will begin to pack; I go home for Christmas tomorrow. I am very excited to see my family again, and to return to the land of Starbucks and Chick-fil-A, but I am even more excited that after Christmas, I get to come back to Belgium. How anyone could choose to study abroad for only one semester is incomprehensible to me. Next semester I am looking forward to an even better experience than I’ve had these last four months. I will already be settled in; I know how to buy rolls, for one thing. Maybe I’ll expand my horizons by buying produce at the weekly market or learning some new recipes from my international roommates. I can’t wait.