The Costa Rica vs. Uruguay match was only the first one of a long list. I am not particularly a football fan. And honestly, I still don’t know what it’s all about when people start yelling “corner!” or – the nightmare of most people who don’t get a thing about football – “offside!!”. I do understand “goaaaaaal!!!!” on the other hand, and know this means one of the teams just managed to get one point but, most of the time, I miss just the moment when the ball hits the net or am not sure about exactly which team shot the ball in and who the adversary is. But that doesn’t matter. What is important is to stand behind your national team against all odds and find some company with whom to have a beer or two. Or an asado, Argentinian style.

On the following Tuesday, it was Belgium’s turn to play. I was hoping to be able to see it with some fellow countrymen and -women and, what do you know? Eva happened to have two Belgian friends. As there are about 15 living in the whole of Buenos Aires, I was lucky to find them. I wouldn’t normally go looking for Belgians when I’m abroad but I have to admit I liked those black, yellow and red moments around a few bottles of Stella Artois. I wouldn’t normally drink Stella Artois when being abroad either – and, let’s be honest, not even when I’m at home – but there are these moments where you would do just about anything to be spiritually close to your peers. It’s called getting back to the roots, and roots need to be watered. Although “beered” would be more appropriate in this case.

By the way… One of the Belgian guys happened to own an apartment about 3 buildings from where I live in Brussels. I was starting to wonder if Buenos Aires was trying to send me home.

Come on Belgiuuuuum!
Come on Belgiuuuuum!

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