"Can I get you a caca coffee, straight from a weasel's - ?"

That was my warm welcome to the city of Liège, Belgium.  After traveling solo through the Netherlands for a few days, it was wonderful to see a familiar face.  I stayed with Mary, a friend from last summer's CELTA days.  Mary teachers English at the Université de Liège and her husband, Bruce, is the principal horn player for l'Orchestre Philharmonique Royal de Liège.  They're both American, but have lived in Belgium for twenty years.  I also met their children, Joseph (who's in high school) and Lys (middle school), their dog Hope, and cat Fleur.

The "caca coffee" is an interesting side note: it's actually an Indonesian coffee called Kopi Luwak, made from coffee beans that are first eaten, partially digested, and excreted by a weasel-like animal (a luwak, in Indonesian).  It's surprisingly smooth with hints of chocolate and hazelnut; chalk-full of caffeine; and it'll cost you about $30 per cup.  Mary got it as a gift from a Vietnamese student.

On the train from Rotterdam, I enjoyed watching the Dutch landscape melt away into Belgian countryside and cities.  Most signs in Belgium are written in both Dutch and French, but it's helpful to be able to recognize both the Dutch and French names of cities; it took a few baffling moments before I realized that Luik is the Dutch name for Liège, and I was therefore thankfully on the correct train.  I had only a slight moment of panic when I had to make a quick connection in Brussels; I simultaneously forgot the French word for "platform" and the Dutch phrase for "which".  The woman at the ticket counter just looked at me curiously when I spit out, "C'est à quel spoor?" in an American accent.

The Université and Philharmonique haven't started yet for the year, so Mary and Bruce took turns showing me around the city.  Liège has quite the extensive history; it was especially important during WWI, and this year being the hundredth anniversary of the war, there were several exhibitions on the subject throughout the city.  Because of its central location between the Netherlands, France, and Germany, Belgium was caught in the middle of much of the fighting during the world wars.  During WWI, Germany used Belgium as a means to reach and occupy France, and the process of taking control of Liège was particularly brutal.  After several battles, during which the Liègeois resisted relentlessly, around 5,500 civilians were killed in total.  Because of the world war history, you can find many people in this part of Belgium who are very friendly to Americans.

In fact, they're still rebuilding and repairing damage from WWII; as a result, the city has a true mix of historic and modern architecture.  In the churches, for example, it's difficult to find original stained glass window panels (and those remaining are usually in pretty bad shape), so you may see ancient stained glass next to a modern window designed by a twentieth-century artist.  Even more common are half-finished windows - they're in the process of replacing each panel one by one as they find the money (bottom right photo, taken in the cathedral).  The unfinished panels are just clear glass.  The top right photo shows the ceiling of another church, Saint-Jacques, which has a much different feel:  It was restored using Gothic, Rococo, and Romanesque elements, the effect of which is a rather rustic ambiance.  The church pictured on the left, Saint-Barthélemy, is now nicely restored due to a chunk of money from the Roman Catholic church.

Saint-Barthélemy's claim to fame is its baptismal font, known as one of the "seven wonders of Belgium" (pictured on the top center).  It was created sometime during the twelfth century by a goldsmith named Renier, who used a technique of wax-melting that was beyond revolutionary at the time.  The baptismal scenes featured on the font are incredibly intricate.  Liège is lucky to still have the font; it was originally made for a church called Notre-Dame-aux-Fonts, which was demolished by French revolutionists in the late 1700s.  The people of Liège hid the font (although the original lid disappeared), and about ten years later, it was safe to move it to Saint-Barthélemy.

Le perron; la Montagne de Bueren;
le Palais des Princes-Évêques

Another piece with some interesting history is le perron, a stone column near the main market square (top left photo).  It's considered one of the most precious pieces of architecture and history in Liège.  In the 1400s, the Duke of Burgundy captured the city and moved the perron across the country to Bruges to punish the people of Liège.  It was returned after his death.  There were several other times throughout history that the perron was dismantled and hidden by the Liègeois for safekeeping; during WWII, for example, the Germans' attempts to steal it were unsuccessful.  It's not elegant by any means and it's in very rough shape from the many periods of destruction in Liège's history, but it's a special symbol of local autonomy and freedom.

There are many, many more historical monuments and stories in the city from every era of history.  A lot of history from the Middle Ages and Renaissance have to do with power struggles between princes and the church; it all gets very complicated, but you can still find remnants everywhere.

Mary took me to the Restaurant Nanesse near le centre-ville for lunch to try some specialties of Liège.  The city is known for its peket, or gin; they like to experiment with a variety of edgy flavors.  I was skeptical, but ultimately impressed with my peket fruit des bois (fruit of the woods).  The main course was boulets-frites (meatballs and fries) with gravy sweetened by apples and pears.

There was one other famous specialty left to try in Liège, which brings me to my first French Mot du Jour (Word of the Day):
le gaufre - waffle

And, for good measure:
le gaufre à la cannele - cinnamon waffle