"Belgium?" said the American young woman sitting across the table. "Is that a city, or a part of France?"

The question was directed at Sylvie, a Belgian student studying in Lille, who made a noble effort not to laugh aloud. On Sylvie's left, I cringed visibly, imagining how this story was going to sound when she related it to her family back home over the weekend.

In this regard, interaction between international students can be somewhat hit-and-miss. At times, it can turn out to be tremendously enlightening. I met a Canadian who was living in Russia at age 6 when the Soviet Union collapsed. I had a thoughtful conversation with Polish and Brazilian students about the saturation of American culture around the world and about what it's like to learn English as a second language.

And then there are rough patches. Bill from Australia spent several minutes trying to tell his native country's version of racist jokes, which was rendered even more distasteful by the fact that he had to give a detailed explanation of why each colloquialism-laden punch line was supposed to be funny. Think "Steve Irwin makes Chris Rock cry." Not to be outdone, another of the American girls at the table explained to Sylvie who Helen Keller had been, before proceeding to explain the idea behind the line of off-color jokes on the same topic. The proudest set of ideas that ever exchanged intercultural hands, this was not.

But the evening wasn't all bad. Anxious to demonstrate that not all Americans were of the same cloth, I asked Sylvie to tell me about Belgium, a country on which I have very little non-waffle-related knowledge. Belgium has a Dutch part and a French part. Sylvie comes from the Dutch part, but has studied French since she was 10 and English since she was 12, both of which she said are mandatory. Beyond waffles, Belgium is actually the birthplace of french fries, according to Sylvie, which derive their moniker from a verb meaning "to french," or "to cut up into small pieces, each approximately the same size as a french fry."

Belgium hosts the headquarters of the European Union. The country has a king, who technically signs off on every law and government appointment. In modern times, the king has generously agreed to act as rubber-stamp and approve whatever the democratically-elected government does, in return for which the people of Belgium have generously agreed not to rise as one and depose him from power in a violent revolution.

All in all, it seems like a cordial arrangement, and I encourage everyone to go home and find Belgium on a map. Because if he doesn't like your tone regarding his country, I hear the king can still send people to your house. People with waffle irons.

Editor's note: Eccher, a former Tribune staff member, is studying abroad in Lille, France, this semester. He will write periodically about his experiences in France.