Today I got internet in my home, after living there for two months. More on Belgian telecoms later. Now, after two months where communicating with the outside world was a special, preplanned event, I'm back on the interwebs and going crazy. In honor of this epoch-making event, I'm bettering mankind with some cultural anthropology. This is for you, America.

First, the obvious questions. Just how awesome are the waffles? Really freaking awesome, which is horrible, because no one is open for breakfast. Anywhere. They don't believe in the most important meal of the day here, and if you ask why, Jean Claude Van Damme punches you in the face. Not as hard as he hits his wife mind you, but pretty hard all the same.

What food is available is generally not fast, or even medium. The waitstaff isn't working for your tip, so you'll get fed when you get fed. In the meantime you can get pissed on beer. A word on the beer: Belgium is famous for its many beers, but do not go into an average bar and expect something amazing as a matter of course. Most bars mainly serve Jupiler and Cristal which are basically Bud and Miller that someone ashed in. Actual fast food places more or less fall into two categories: the Turkish Kebab joint and the Frituur. Kebabs are delicious and a vital part of any ex-pats diet. The frituur is kind of neat to try. Also, you don't need to speak dutch or even English, just point at whatever you want and they'll throw it into a deep fryer. Want a taste of home? They'll make you what they assume all fat American slobs (USA! USA!) want--a deep-fried beef patty with a fried egg between two soggy pieces of bread that may or may not have also been deep fried. Awesome.

How do they stay in shape with all this food and beer? Well, a lot of them don't, honestly. It's kind of gross. Those that do, however, ride bikes. They ride bikes everywhere. Rain or shine, in the middle of the night, in the snow, on the highway, wherever, whenever. The elderly are especially avid bikers. They usually travel in mated pairs or packs, sometimes ranging up to two-dozen strong. I don't have any proof, but I'm pretty sure they ride down pedestrians caught alone like the doddering wolves they most resemble.

It rains constantly here, which can make people cranky, especially any Turks who are out on the town having fun. Remember that as an American, there are a lot of things that are personally your fault--like the death of John Lennon--and they will probably pick a fight with you and probably have a baseball bat in their car. Not hyperbole. Seriously, just tell people you're from Canada. Everyone loves Canadians.

*MM is one of my red-headed nephews. He joined some random branch of the military to aid in the War on Terror in some small, obscure European country that no one goes to unless the hotels in the Nagorno-Karabakh Republic are all booked. This is his first article for PM.

More PM Travel Guides: Germany, India, Outer Space, Abu Dhabi