Before I even made it out of security, I was in trouble.
“M’am, we need to check your bag. The screening machine cannot identify an object in your bag. Do you have anything which could be dangerous?”
I desperately searched my jumbled memory to see if if accidentally packed a set of Ginsu knives or a pair of tweezers. “No, Sir.”
Using a long pair of tongs he swabbed the bottom of my bag and analyzed it for explosives. None found. Whew! One by one he emptied the contents until he found the offending object…my bag of grits. Fortunately this fellow Southerner understood, and smiled. I hope my gift of grits to my uninitiated Belgian friends brings a smile to their face as well.
Our first visit is to my Belgian son, JB. He knows grits because lived with us and two other families through a Rotary Exchange over the course of a year in 2009-2010. His family, however, will learn of one of our finer delicacies.
Sharing our lives, cultures, and friendship is one of the greatest blessings of a trip like this. We are sharing grits, but they are sharing their home in Mons (where I have Internet on the 2nd floor) and their home on the coast of Belgium, where technology has not yet fully intruded. We leave in five minutes. Thus I will be disconnected until Sunday when you’ll hear from me in London.
Thanks for all your encouragement! I love hearing from you so please leave a comment. Merci!