The past week(end)

On Wednesday (14/07) a disaster took place in Belgium but we only realised that by the end of the day when the first disaster news started to flow in. I heard that my neighbours from the east of the country had difficulty to get home from work since part of Eupen was evacuating. We saw images of a flooded Spa (which was still funny with the girl that got a full bucket of water thrown on her in a live tv emission), ...We went to bed with an eye on the rain radar praying the rain would slow down and that the worst had happened already. 

On Thursday the rain line had moved towards the center, which was great news for the disaster area in the East of Belgium. But now we'd take the water load.  We got a message from the playground camp that the children attended that they'd be inside but it'd better to wear boots...we followed the guidance.   Jan dropped them off ...a full 300m and 500m away and he returned home fully soaked.  

The team members that had arrived at the office sounded worried about the continuous rain and their possibility to get back home. So I told them all to turn around and work fully from home that day.  They did but sent some images of flooding streets on their way back. Someone had to start pumping water in the basement.

I tried to work and concentrate but was drawn to the news emissions and the images of the East of Belgium just gave me nausea...seeing a dad with his child in his arms on the roof waiting for rescue...seeing that taking hours, seeing that rescue mission only starting in the afternoon and hearing later on that one of those rescue boats (not the one with the father and child) had turned over, losing 3 people. Images of houses collapsing while still people jumping of a roof there. Pure horror. 
In each meeting everyone talked about the rain, if everyone was ok, ... I had to escape from my desk to fight my headache and catch some fresh air.  I faced the rain to go and search the children but by that time the bulk of our rain was already gone.  I knew some streets of Leuven got flooded but nothing as catastrophic as in the east of Belgium. 

Even Rodin was seeking consistently higher ground on Thursday 

(ok this picture is cheating: this curver box contains his food...he positions himself to indicate we must feed him)

Just when I plan to go to bed at time because I feel exhausted, we get a phone call from the youth department of the city of Leuven. Turns out that Kabouter has been in touch with a youth leader at the playground camp who is now positive for Covid.  The playground closes for this week and Kabouter needs to get tested and spend a week in quarentaine. Hurray. 
At bedtime we are googling how to get test codes, test appointments planned and what this implies for Beertje and the rest of the family.  

Friday: 

When Kabouter wakes up, we have to break the news to him that he must go in quarantaine and that he might be contaminated with Corona.  He takes the news rather calmly.
We start the day by phoning our general practisioner to obtain Kabouter's test codes.  Not much later Jan manages to plan an appointment and walk Kabouter to the test center.  Wow on Monday we got Beertje test who had a little fever, now Kabouter. What a week.  Both playground and doctor confirmed however that Beertje could attend the camp (different location, different youth leaders).  

Although the rain stopped and my team returned partially to the office (to train the new recruits), the stress/anxiety feeling still hangs.  While I try to plan for work continuity in the coming weeks in the summer holiday period and have some more recruiting interviews,  headaches and fatigue and stress clearly returns. 
Last year(s) I become increasingly aware how I can absorb emotions from news or tensions from work like a sponge and suffer from it when I can't manage to take distance. I can't ignore the images from the Belgian and German catastrophe, neither the pressure that moves to the Netherlands downstream. 

Having a Kabouter next to me who is bored doesn't help much either.  He finally retreats in the sofa a full day with the iPad...it is what it is.

Before another interview, I need to walk a tour around the bloc to clear my head. I descend in our neighbourhood to the "Broekstraat" where the Molenbeek comes from the abbey and has also impressively flooded the water management area park (not too bad) but also multiple streets further. 

The abbey ponds still flood into the creek on Friday

The swollen Molenbeek that has flooded the grass visibly last night but has returned in its bedding now, except where it passes the entrance gate.  A crew from the university is bagging the creek's side and at the same time still pumping water out of the historic gate building.

When Beertje comes back from the playground camp, he's transformed into a skeleton. Fits the day. Jan and I decide that neither of us is up for the drive to the East of Belgium anymore, and we crash at home without any further energy. Fortunately, Kabouter's first PCR test turns out negative...so that's a positive note to end the day.

Saturday: 

We must leave for the east of Belgium because insect doors will get delivered.  And yet I don't manage to speed up very much in the morning, so we are on the road later than intended. We miss the delivery but fortunately, the package can be left behind on our terrace without an issue. 

The weather is grey and depressing, not quite the summer weekend that got predicted. I feel rather solemn when driving to the east as we have to pass the disaster area (not through!).  All traffic slows down on the E40 bridge across the Meuse river yet the water seems quite well within its borders. Not as if 20-40 km downstraim massive evacuations are still ordered in the Netherlands.  We avoid Eupen and drive via Malmédy.  Exit roads to Verviers, Pepinster and Theux are closed off.  But when we climb up again to the highest points of Belgium, all seems nice and peaceful with forests and grazing cows and beautiful farms and villa's. 

In the afternoon, finally the promised sun gets out, and we install ourselves in the garden. The children risk the cold pool and I pick up a new book to read.  A few hours of silence and rest in the sun does wonders and I finally feel my numbness is easing away. 

I can convince Kabouter to join me for a bit of Pokémon hunting in the neighbourhood, and we go and check out the Warche river, which is swollen as always when the Butgenbach dam is open but doesn't look catastrophic.  Scouts groups are setting up their camp on the banks as they do each year on the spot we sledge down in winter time.  Live continues and it looks beautiful here. 
(with hindsight, the Warche valley from Butgenbach up to Malmédy has been spared well in this catastrophe through way better and proactive dam management....quite a sour knowledge for all the victims in the Vesder valley). 

Our neighbours are busy organizing help and pull their caravan to someone whose house is partially destroyed, so they can live on site in the coming months while they hope to renovate their house. The neighbours talk about a "war zone", when they come back.

the crates with Stella are cooling in the Warche...as usual

Sunday: 

Another great sunny day announces itself and I continue my resting and chilling in the garden. The children feel a little lost at first now they can't go visit the neighbour boys with Kabouter's quarantine. 

We set-up our camping tent that hasn't left its bag in the last 10 years to check out if all is fine still.  This way the children can play a bit inside and Kabouter can set his mind to sleeping in a tent on his future scouting camp.  Their interest in the tent doesn't last long, however. Tssss children.

While the neighbours are organizing more aid, we take the opportunity to search the house and sort out any baby stuff that is still around, so we can donate pampers, baby tubs and toys to those who have lost it all. 

I spend the rest of the afternoon reading and I finish the book that I started yesterday.  It feels great and relax.  This sunny, calm weekend has done me well. Except for the fact that I've skipped a spot when I put on my sunscreen and my armpit got painfully burnt in the sun. Even a week later, it is still an impressive red spot.  

When we return to Leuven, it is time to start preparing the scouting suitcase, in the assumption that Kabouter will test negative again on Wednesday and will be allowed to leave his quarantine. I discover that he needs a hippie outfit but a search through all our closets is successful. 

Monday: 

I take the morning off to spend some time with Kabouter who gets more and more bored at home and I profit to pull together most stuff for his camp suitcase.  I also go and search some more camping material for him in the Decathlon. Let's just hope that's not all in vain. In the next  evenings I can amuse myself labelling all this stuff with his name.

With the ease of mind that most of that stuff is done, I log on for work in the afternoon in a distinctly better mood and level of concentration than the week before.  Most of our customers have effectively left on vacation, so it's much calmer for the (reduced) team and we all can look forward to an interrupted week.