My face gets hot, my heart begins to race and once again I feel very ignorant. I say ‘sorry’ in English, too afraid to make an attempt at a word, I know I will fail miserably. Growing all the more ashamed, I hang my head. Desperate to understand, eager to communicate, but too timid to try. Sure, I speak four languages like you – American English, San Diego slang, Christian-ese and… sorry just three. So I fumble, move on and jump the next individual whose words I understand, “where are you from?” and please don’t let the conversation end there, at least ask where I’m from. Culture, language, can I go back to age 5 and try this again? I have a feeling my European ancestors would be dissapointed.
Sarah Lynn Smile 
Just took the time to read your blog. I love the very candid expressions of what you see. They are like snapshots of your experiences, framing what you see, hear, and smell.
Enjoy your European adventure. I’m a little jealous, although honestly I don’t think I would want to stay in a hostel. A two-star would be okay though.
You just left us today and I have like this strange feeling in my stomach: happy because I know you’ll discover great things in Germany, Austria and Switzerland, sad because you’re no longer with us. But the knowledge that I can be part of the rest of your trip thanks to your blog makes me smile and gives me peace of mind: you’ll be fine ! It was great having your here, I can honestly say that you came in our house as a stranger but left as a friend, a part of our family. Belgian hugs xxx Cindy