Joining a Women’s Group

I finally made it to a women’s group meeting – American Women in Antwerp – and met some ex-pats from America, and a few other countries. It was nice to be in a room with all English speaking people, although it was overwhelming to be surrounded by all women. Chatty ones at that. There were about 40 women, and if I had to guess, because I couldn’t speak to each of them, mostly housewives of men who had been relocated because of large corporations operating out of Belgium, or had jobs that caused them to move around a lot, so they needed group therapy during their stays. If they didn’t have jobs themselves, I guess they would have to do something to occupy their time. I didn’t meet anyone like me, but that is not surprising. They were all very nice, we were shuttled through a yummy buffet line and asked to take our seats to eat and listen to a moderator talk about the organization. The meeting turned into a very long discussion about changing their constitution, updating the by-laws, and arguing over whether or not they should start accepting more non-Americans in their group to keep it alive. Apparently there are not so many Americans moving to Belgium these days, so the fear that there wouldn’t be enough people to participate in activities alarmed the board of directors. I listened intently to both sides of the argument for well over an hour before I grew weary and raised my hand. Why do I always raise my hand? Why can’t I just get up and get more cake or something? I don’t do it on purpose, it just happens, and I get flustered at lack of direction. I introduced myself and said I was a newcomer, the room said a big hello, and I thanked them. I suggested that it was clear they were not going to solve the issue of membership today, but both sides of the argument were very good. Maybe it would help if they did three things.  First, look at WHY the organization was created in the first place, look at WHAT their purpose in the 21^st century should be and three, give me a good reason I should join. Pregnant pause. The moderator went for the by-laws, reading out loud the purpose as stated in the handbook, which clearly says two things:

Motto: May we never be hasty in judgement and always generous.

Purpose: Our purpose is to create a center for social, cultural, and philanthropic activities for American women in the Antwerp area.

and everyone sort of looked at each other and stopped arguing.

After that the meeting was wrapped up in ten minutes. I wasn’t sure what kind of impression I had just made, but went for the cake anyway. Thirty seconds later I was surrounded by women wanting to give me their reasons for joining, and had to eat my cake off a plate standing up, I never made it back to the table, but I did meet a lot of new people in a very short amount of time. Two people thanked me for steering the meeting back to the point, and I had a lot of clipboards shoved in front of me with activities to sign up for, so I guess it all worked out.  I was certainly grateful to participate in something that got me out of the barn for a few hours, and gave me the chance to dress up. I snagged the woman in charge of book club, gave her my email, and told her I was interested, then boxed up some leftovers, helped clean up, and headed home. It was sort of a surreal experience, and each woman had a totally interesting story about how they came to be in Belgium today, no two of which were similar. When I hear about people moving all over the world, I am usually envious, because it is exciting to see so many different places, but I am hearing the good stuff. I forget about all the hard stuff that goes along with it, the acceptance from the locals, the loneliness, the lack of compassion, the constant readjustments to your life you normally take for granted. Like horse people, these women share a common bond, and offer friendship and guidance no questions asked. I would probably be just fine not joining the group, and carry on in my own little world, but I really want to be a part of it, if nothing else for the cake.

Coming back to the stable, I pinned Ian and Philip down to help me make a little video of the new horse, who is now my favorite to ride in the barn, mostly because he is so freaking easy and honest, and sweet, I can’t get over it. He may not be very big, but he is a dreamboat to ride, and once he learns a little, he will be a perfect kid’s horse. 5 yr old stallion by Guidam.