Expatriate-izing

Ties

2009-03-21T05:59:00.005+01:00

We got a blue envelope in the mail today. All you Dutchies know what those blue envelopes mean - the belastingdienst. I think it is funny that it is 2009 and just now the Dutch tax department is clearing their records from 2006. And I'm a little annoyed that one of last active links we have to the Netherlands is a tax bill that we already paid.

This week, I was folding Rebecca's outgrown clothes, organizing many of them in sizes 68, 74, and 80 rather than 6 months, 9 months, and 12 months. I smiled as I thought about how cute she was in each little outfit. And I'm so happy that she has fun little Dutch outfits to wear even now.

Tickets to Amsterdam this week are half of what they were last month (but who's watching?). I realize that is still $750 more than I should pay for a trip. But part of me would love to buy a ticket and take off for Schiphol, catch a train and knock on the door of some dearly missed friends, show up personally at the Belastingdienst to clear up any other bills that may haunt us in future years, and maybe even shop at Hema for some size 92 little girl clothes.

The Anniversary that Wasn't

2009-01-26T22:22:00.003+01:00

December 31, 2008 came quietly. Quite opposite of December 31, 2007 - our move date from the Netherlands back to the USA.

The day came and went, and although I certainly thought about what was happening a year ago, there were other things to think about. Work, seeing Dan and Rebecca after a few days away, preparing for Grandma and Grandpa to visit...

A year and a couple weeks later, we are living with very few boxes left to unpack. (Those boxes have things like Barbies and college textbooks in them, so I'm not sure they will ever be unpacked.) We have a house I'm still in love with, a fabulous washer and dryer pair, and a fair amount of furniture to sit on or store in. In the spring, I went to work everyday wondering when I was going to unpack my shoes and business suits. I didn't, so now my closet is full of just the right amount of new shoes and clothes. I guess I gave away more things that I thought I had.

My hope was that this blog could outlast our expat time and be a place to chronicle the ex-expat life. Obviously, I underestimated the activities of moving back and returning to "American" life, and that is reflected in the neglect of this blog.
I'm still full of memories and wishes and longings of our time overseas. So, if you are still out there, check back every month or so and see if I can empty those memories and wishes and longings into this space. I would love to share!

Pay it Forward: The Anti-October 20 Incident

2008-11-12T07:42:00.003+01:00

So, the morning we were leaving Moldova, we were robbed. Funny. Never saw it coming. But, hey, we were, and now we're moving on. I'm still watching the mail for my pictures and Dan's address book, though.

Anyway, to combat the bad, here's a little bit of good. I'm paying it forward. Here are the rules, as published by monART: (By the way, check out her new little baby girl. don't you want to squeeze the little pixie?)

-I will send the first three people to leave a comment on this post a handmade gift within the next 365 days.
-I am willing to post [mail] anywhere in the world
-The catch is that you have to have a blog and be willing to do the same thing....
-So if you'd like to participate, then leave me a comment and make sure to leave me a valid email address so that I can contact you for your address, etc.
-So if you're game then go ahead and comment!
-So I'll send to the first three persons with a valid e-mail address leaving a comment and posting this "post it forward" on their blog too

So, who out there is reading this, has a blog, and is willing to pay it forward?

Plea

2008-10-24T23:08:00.002+02:00

To you who stole our things: Return our pictures. Files, too. Unfortunately, you know where to find us.

Determined

2008-10-24T23:06:00.001+02:00

You know things went completely, totally wrong on your return trip when your hands have blisters from luggage-handling.

Not DE-Expatriate-ized

2008-10-18T22:24:00.002+02:00

What does it say about me if, in the 2 weeks I've been in Moldova, I've forgotten that there is a car - actually, two cars - waiting for us to use in the garage? And what if the fact that we will be returning to the United States from Moldova seems like a fantasy? What if it doesn't seem like our house in the USA is really our house, and that I cannot really picture us living there?

After 6 months of being back in Birmingham, if I forget about that life after I'm away from it for 2 weeks, maybe I'm not as de-expatted as I thought I was was...

Quotables

2008-10-17T22:45:00.004+02:00

The purpose of being in Moldova right now is to lead a group of businessmen as they learn more about the microfinance program with which we work. We hope to use trips like this to facilitate the growth of the agency and to find people who are willing to help to create jobs in this country. We've had a series of meetings and 4 visits to clients and lots of informal discussions. It's been good! Prior to the guys arriving, we've had a number of talks with others as well, to help us understand Moldova better.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from these times:

The silly:
"Couple of cherries" (The fruit of the Romanian lesson Dan set up for the guys. It's the easiest way to remember how to say 'You're welcome" in Romanian.)

"I should have prepared the devotional in Romanian after hearing how well you speak the language." (A pastor to the guys after hearing them say 'Couple of cherries' and various Romanian greetings.)

"Don't fall off the porch!" (Us to a client. There were no guardrails on this particular porch.)

"I should sell my stupid apartment in this stupid country and buy a nice house in Huntsville." (A teacher from Chisinau (who had been to Huntsville) who is wondering what keeps him in this country, the poorest in Europe and unhappiest in the world.)
(There is a better link out there somewhere, but I can't find it at the moment...)

The serious:
"The government sets the price of bread at 60 cents per loaf. Our cost is 80 cents per loaf. When the government saw we take a loss, they say we give a donation to the state at 20 cents per loaf and that we must pay tax on the 'donation'." (Interviewing the management at bakery in the village outside of Hincesti.)

"This house will be one of the only aftercare homes in the country for women recovering from being trafficked. We'll take 12 women and they can live here for about 1 year to get back on their feet." (The husband of the home's director, who is planning for the opening of their home this month.)

"At my former school, the principal tells me that 100 of the 150 students do not have parents looking after them. 100 out of 150 students have parents who have left Moldova without them." (A board member to the group after being asked how the emigration of Moldovans is impacting the family unit.)

Appointments

2008-10-13T21:53:00.006+02:00

Typical here in Moldova, we spent the first 4 or 5 days of the trip getting situated, and now things have taken off. It's amazing how fluid appointments here can be...an e-mail asking for a mobile phone number, a phone call, and 2 hours later, tea at the French cafe. We like this way of working. It takes a little getting used to - and a little faith that we will accomplish something while we are here! Nevertheless, we find we can do a lot this way, one conversation leads to a couple of other meetings and those contacts are typically easy to arrange at the last minute.

It's so very different than the Netherlands and the USA. In the Netherlands, people are very "afspraak" driven, with most everybody working out of an "agenda" and scheduling appointments days, or even weeks, in advance. There are spontaneous drop-ins, most definitely, but scheduled afspraaks are important. In America, I find in my circles at least, that it's a little of both - schedule and plan, but leave it somewhat spontaneous since we are all busy and might be called away for any given reason at any given time.

I've been thinking about how all of these methods are effective, and how they are all unique to the culture. Moldova is all about networking and flexibility. The Netherlands, more engineered and formal. The USA, a blend of cultures but geared towards individuals rather than community. Impose agendas and strict time codes in Moldova, and all that ends up happening is a lot of missed appointments. Work with the fluid appointments typical of Moldova, and in the USA it would be difficult to find times when all the parties are available.

So here we are, Americans who lived in the Netherlands doing things the Moldovan way, and getting work accomplished. Dan and Beth didn't waste their trip to Moldova!

Valid Question #2 to Ask

2008-10-10T10:54:00.002+02:00

"One kilogram?!?!?!?!" the lady at the bakery asked.

I nodded, "Da." Well, when three potato pies were loaded onto the scale and I saw the scale was only registering 0.25 kilos, I understood why she asked the question. I certainly did not need 12 potato pies! Potato pies are light! I ended up with six and there is still one left over.

Even more than Holland and certainly more than in the States, people here shop by weight rather than quantity or volume. I suppose if I could have remembered how to say "5" in Russian, I could have asked for 5 pies rather than 1 kilo! But buying by weight is important here. I ordered a 390 gram pizza the other day. Could not remember if that's like a Pizza Hut personal pizza or an extra large Papa John's. Turns out it's more like a 12-inch.

When I cook with our friends, they think of everything in terms of weight:
"Three hundred grams of pork will be enough because we'll have 1 kilo of potatoes," they tell me. I ask, "Is that 12 potatoes?"
"We need 50 grams of rice," they announce. "Is that 1/2 cup of rice?" I wonder.

It's good for a diet! I know that after I ate 2/3s of my pizza, I'm was going to weigh 260 grams more!

Valid Question #1 to Ask

2008-10-10T10:42:00.005+02:00

Does the elevator in your building work?

One of my friends, a local Moldovan, asked me that very question today. (It does.)

We visited a friend on Tuesday who lives in one of the old-style Soviet concrete high rises. We bravely (naively?) got into the elevator. Dan punched the button (think manual typewriter keys from 1950, and you have an idea of the buttons on this elevator) and we rose to the 5th floor. Rebecca wondered why it was so dark, I wondered why it was shaking so much. When we got to our floor, we all jumped when we heard what we thought was a gunshot. It wasn't - instead, it was just the button popping out! The doors opened, we found our friends, we ate pie.

Oh, then there is the story from last year: my husband and some other friends had to CLIMB OUT (not just step out) of our elevator because it stopped midway between floors. Now THAT'S a great memory!

If on a Budget in Moldova...

2008-10-08T20:49:00.005+02:00

...don't eat at restaurants that advertise "American" cuisine. For lunch, three of us ate a normal lunch at such a place for 460 lei, or about $46. I left hungry. For dinner, three of us ate very well at a local place close to our apartment for 200 lei, or about $20. We had food left over.

In general, I'm surprised at how much prices are rising here. My favorite Moldovan meal at one of our favorite restaurants was about $6 in 2005 and now it is $9.50. I think last year it was about $8.50. The dollar here has lost value, so that contributes to some of it. But it is mainly due to the high inflation.

If we keep eating so well, and if the stock market doesn't recover, we might not have enough money to get back to America! (Just kidding, Mom.)

Just In Time

2008-10-05T21:34:00.003+02:00

I was starting to itch again to get overseas. I was NOT looking forward to the packing and the traveling, but I was ready for how my senses are heightened as I try to figure out new challenges and experiencing something that's not quite so common. So now we are in Moldova, and I'm scratching that itch.

Granted, we've been here enough that things aren't quite as different as they seemed to be the first time we were here. And as the years go on, Moldova is becoming much more Western: big shiny new buildings poking out from behind some of the more historical buildings in the city as well as more and more imports, even Dutch canned food and the German oatmeal I bought from C1000 in the Netherlands. Nevertheless, there is something very stimulating about being here. And it's just in time, because recently the most exciting part of my life was NOT VERY EXCITING. My life in Birmingham is just so...predictable...and normal. I'm going to have to do something about that when I get back.

Kids Here Speak English

2008-09-28T05:38:00.002+02:00

Yesterday I, as part of a 5-person team of adults, tried to keep track of one 4-year old, two 3-year olds, two 2-year olds, two 1-year olds, and one 10-month old at the zoo. About the time I was trying to wrangle a two-year old and my very own one-year old out of the display crate in which the local rhino had been transported, I realized that I've broken yet another re-patriation barrier. I talk to kids without thinking they only speak Dutch. (Very timely - I wasn't sure how to say, "Please don't roll around in the rhino crate, Rebecca and Tori!" or "Why yes, Ainsley, those lorikeets love when we feed them nectar, but their claws are puncturing my scalp, and I think some wings are getting tangled in my hair." ) But I digress...

This is quite a new development: Just a couple weeks ago at the church nursery, I was thinking in Dutch. I served "koekjes" instead of cookies. And I wanted to ask if the children were "moe" instead of tired. And how exciting it was that sweet Emily is "lopen!" err...I mean walking. When it comes to my lingering foreign language use, this is the last frontier. For a few months already, really the only time I slip into Dutch, is when I'm speaking to children, my own not included.

A bit bittersweet, this latest ex-expat milestone is. My language skills are languishing quickly. If I'm not careful, it won't be too long before Dan and I have to spell words in English rather than speak them in Dutch when we need to keep Rebecca out of the loop!

Remembering

2008-09-23T04:39:00.004+02:00

No doubt, the last 9 months (nine!) has been absolutely nuts! I've lost count of the number of places we've slept since we left The Netherlands. Waaaaay many. And that includes Rebecca, too! I tell you, little kids are so adaptable...give Rebecca a good book, some time to run around, some entertaining family members, and a cookie every now and then, and she's set. Of course, when we embarked on this move 9 (nine!) months ago, she was still crawling...but that's for another blog (which, is waaaaay neglected as well).

You all don't want to hear about everything we've been through since we boarded that plane from Schiphol on New Year's Eve. But this is what I'm going through now...memories. And that's a good thing! I've been so consumed with buying a house, working again, unpacking, baby girl, letting myself remember European life has been a luxury. This means a couple things - first, that I have more time. Second, that I've figured out remembering good memories doesn't have to be sad. They can be nice.

Here are a few of my favorite memories tonight:

Near daily walks pushing a stroller with a little girl in it. I'd often end up singing crazy songs or doing a play-by-play like we were racing other strollers to keep Rebecca happy those last few meters to the house.

I still like my memories of ducks and bandit geese at the lake in Rotterdam.

The crazy things we transported on our bikes...from shopping carts to cats in cages.

Trying to spell things to Dutch kids before I learned the alphabet in Dutch. "H" is pronounced "ha". Got that now.

Visits from friends! Friends! Who had time to get together! And I did, too!

For My Dear Friend Mindy

2008-08-13T06:03:00.004+02:00

Love you, girl.

P.S. Now accepting all offers for help chasing around a little girl; unpacking as of yet unpacked boxes; getting out of a frump about missing being overseas; decorating; finding childcare, doctors, dentists, and other service professionals; preparing for a potential multi-million dollar government contract, or...blogging!

P.P.S. Thank you, by the way, to all of you (including Dear Friend Mindy) who have helped with the above.

P.P.P.S. Add an "S" to the end of "Day" in the pic above and you have a perfect summary of our life this year! Ain't Rebecca cute, by the way?

Front-Loaders

2008-05-01T06:20:00.002+02:00

One of the funniest changes I had to adapt to when I moved to Holland was the time it took to do laundry. High-efficiency washers are the norm in Europe. As America is just now discovering, there are more energy efficient and clean clothes much MUCH better. But they take a long time. As in 90 minutes long for one of the machines I used. (OH, and then there was the hanging of the clothes to dry since dryers are not standard appliances.) Impatient American I am, I loved coming back to the U.S. and washing clothes in a zippy 30 minutes or less.

Then I had a child.

Children get dirty.

And I ruined some of my favorite cute Rebecca outfits using top-loading machines.

The reverse culture shock continues in the most practical of ways. I grew so accustomed to how well front-loading washers washed, I stopped pre-treating a lot of stains. (Well, part of it, too, is that I didn't even think to check before throwing them into the dryer. Hanging clothes out to dry = not setting stains. Even so, I rarely had stains on clothes when I hung them to dry. Therefore, it was the washer that washed them better. Follow?) Suddenly the time to do a load of laundry wasn’t nearly as important. The extra time was worth the benefits of front-loaders: cleaner clothes, saving energy. Sign me up!

Since I couldn’t stand to ruin anymore cute Rebecca outfits, we now have a shiny new LG Tromm Front-Loading Washer and Dryer pair in our roomy new laundry room. Thanks, Europe, for enlightening me, and saving cute Rebecca outfits, too.

(Status: Bought: 1 shiny new washer and dryer pair with cute little lights and pleasant sounding beeps. Not bought: 1378 other things.)

Home

2008-04-16T04:47:00.002+02:00

Note to all ex-expats:
If missing your former overseas home and wondering how you will ever readjust to life in your native country, buy a house you absolutely adore and then move in. It will be all you think about for the next severals weeks, maybe even months. (In my case, it's been two days, but I'm projecting here...)

Green America

2008-04-03T23:38:00.000+02:00

I’m amazed, amazed! At how GREEN America is. No, the Holland fields, even in winter, are still much, much greener than American grass during the winter. It’s not green grass that makes America green, it’s a couple other things.

Green is the newest buzzword, I’ve concluded (yeah, it took me three months to determine this). What made me finally figure this out? No, it’s not the (pint-sized) cloth bags in Wal-Mart that they are selling to replace paper or plastic. No, it’s not the bijillion TV commercials imploring us to turn off our lights. No, it’s not the fact that my Federal Government Procurement newsletter today highlighted how to sell “green” to the government. This is what made me decide we’ve really become green: on HGTV (Home & Garden Television, for my lovely Dutch readers) they installed a DUAL-FLUSH toilet! These toilets are everywhere in Europe, and (for my lovely American readers) they let you flush a little for smaller jobs and flush a lot for…bigger ones. If the dual-flush toilet is on HGTV, certainly we Americans are coming of age and going green…in the environmental way.

How else are we green? Well, it’s all about money these days, isn’t it. Ay-o, the economy is on everybody’s mind. I was certainly not prepared for as much talk about money, gas prices, and the economy in general as there is. It’s strange, coming from a relative vacuum of information about such things to a bombardment of information. Even though I browsed the web enough in Holland, it’s not the same as being bombarding with it on the web, the newspapers, magazines, the TV, and conversations with friends and strangers – information overload!

Leaving and Remembering

2008-03-20T05:18:00.001+01:00

Wow! It’s hard to live somewhere for three years, leave, and then get on with a new life.

I keep thinking about hopping on a train and being in a new place in just an hour or so. I remember fondly my walks with Rebecca to the city center on market day, warming up with a fresh stroopwafel. I miss “koffie of thee afspraaks” with friends: Coffee sometimes, tea other times. It’s nearly tulip time in Holland, and I can’t help but get misty-eyed knowing I won’t be there this year.

Oh, there’s plenty to love about life in the U.S., yet there are those pieces of Holland I grew to love. Now, those experiences…that life…are across an ocean. It’s a fissure in my life like I haven’t felt before. Leaving my hometown for college, saying good-bye to friends upon graduation from university, even leaving the U.S. for Europe…nothing compares to this.

So, take heed! Don’t move to Holland for three years, move back home, and then expect not to miss it!

Must Watch More TV

2008-03-13T22:02:00.002+01:00

I love the question, "Have you seen the commercial where...?" Umm, no, I haven't actually. I've been living overseas, sillies. Dutch commercials aren't as memorable as American ones, I guess, since I rarely have the urge to share about the latest commercial on RTL or CNN International.

But, hey, I'm using that question as my excuse to watch as much TV as I possibly can. Must make small talk.

Found: The Nomadic Ex-expats

2008-03-04T23:52:00.002+01:00

In a robotic way, Dan and I spent Saturday packing. We don't even need to think about packing, and we certainly don't get those pre-traveling excitement butterflies anymore. I hope someday they come back - one of the best things about traveling is the anticipation, you know?

Anyway, Saturday was packing. Sunday was traveling. Monday we arrived in Colorado, and Rebecca is happily charming her grandma and grandpa and exploring their house. We are here until April, just a few days before we close on a house! Whoa - homeowners?! Us?! I guess so!

De-expatriatize-ing is tiresome, if I may be completely honest with you. I suppose if we had a house to move into right away or our company was transferring us, it would be easier. That's not us, though, so we have been plugging away at the move: receiving our shipment, finding a house, meeting with future employers, earning some money, entertaining a one-year old, trying to make small living spaces livable, catching up with old friends, and fetching our belongings from various places.

For as strange as the last several weeks has been, it's been great. Our parents and friends' have been gracious hosts. Rebecca has the perfect temperment for all this moving, and she is doing really well with it. And we see much potential with our projects, confirming the reason for moving back to begin with. We're in the home stretch! Pretty soon all my clothes will be in one place again!

Ex-expatriate-izing

2008-02-13T00:06:00.000+01:00

Still alive. This de-expatriatize-ing is hard work! If I never have to pack another box again, I think I'll live a perfectly happy life.

Nice Shipment

2008-01-16T19:13:00.000+01:00

This isn't something I want to see on the news when half? a third? of our worldly possessions are about to go to the Port of Rotterdam, get loaded on a ship, and cross the North Sea on it's way to Charleston, SC.

I LIVE Here Again

2008-01-15T18:15:00.000+01:00

I keep thinking of all the things I have to do while I’m here in the States. Then I remember that I’m not leaving! So I don’t need to buy American stamps and look for the stain remover that I like and drink all the pink grapefruit juice I want. And I think it is funny that I almost used Skype to dial a US-based 800 number today – I can dial 800 numbers from here for FREE!

Where O Where Have the Ex-expats Landed?

2008-01-09T21:32:00.001+01:00

(Title to the tune of the children’s song about the little dog that I can't get out of my head.)

We have landed here. My hometown. Most of us will be here until the end of January. Or thereabouts.

Since departing Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport, we’ve been in Dublin (just the airport, so that doesn’t really count); Chicago (spending the night in Gurnee, Illinois); Iron Mountain, Michigan (Grandpa); Channing, Michigan (Great-Grandpa); Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario (long story); and now Hancock, Michigan (Grandma).

Let me just say this:
When becoming ex-expats, be sure you have a baby who is content in any situation so long as mehmeh (mama in the sing-songy voice of a 14-month old) is nearby; a father who doesn’t mind flying, babysitting, cooking, packing, freezing, driving, counseling, and konking; and a mother who is willing to rearrange nearly all of her storage space and sleep in the basement while you are taking over her house. If you have those three things, life will be OK.

Turn Off Heart

2007-12-28T11:07:00.000+01:00

When left with four days in Holland, one should not browse through the kazillion pictures one has from the past 3 years. Those pictures serve as a reminder of the amazing experiences one has had in Holland, in Europe, with husband, baby, family, and friends. There just isn't time for all this emotional stuff. Turn off one's heart, finish packing, and melt into a bluthering heap of salty tears only when back in New World.

Ex-expatriatizing

2007-12-24T19:49:00.001+01:00

Well, folks, we have 1 week to go! This is the official announcement that we are going to be ex-expats soon. We decided about 2 months ago to head back to the U.S. to further our work in Moldova. Makes sense, huh?

Our shipment is packed and off to the shipper. A few suitcases are packed, and the cupboards are getting empty.

So we can even enjoy our Christmas! Merry Christmas!!

Consultatiebureau

2007-12-15T11:03:00.001+01:00

Rebecca doesn’t have a pediatrician. I think that’s funny, that she is going to be 14-months old, and we don’t have a pediatrician. Most Dutch babies don’t have a pediatrician, so it’s OK. Instead, I have my little Growth Book (it’s even in English!), my immunization coupons, and I go to the consultatiebureau every few weeks or months. Sometimes Rebecca and I see a nurse, sometimes we see a doctor. Sometimes we go by car, sometimes we go by bike. When we are there, Rebecca always gets measured and weighed. The poor darling is on a different immunization schedule than most kids, so she always get shots when we go. The consultatiebureau nurse even comes to our home when we have questions about her development, so she can see Rebecca in action.

It’s one of my finest expat experiences, really. All these Dutch mothers (and sometimes fathers) holding their babies. We ask each other how old the babies are, especially when the babies are younger. I make my way through the small talk, the weighing, the measuring, and the appointment-making in Dutch. But as soon as the doctor or nurse arrives, English is spoken, thank goodness.

It'll be fun to compare the differences between American pediatrician and Dutch consultatiebureau advice. By talking to American mothers, I know some of the differences: here, I’m advised to give Rebecca “half-fat” (2%) milk, she should have started to receive milk around 8 months old, rice cereal isn't the first food, most food allergies aren't discussed until there’s an allergy present. When the babies are newborn, we use kruiken and we tuck them in under bedsheets. Until my last appointment, I had no idea what growth percentile my child is in.

My Growth Book reveals one of the biggest differences I’ve found. “Boxes” (playpens) are used very, very often here. As I watch Rebecca climb onto to tables and couches and chairs and bookcases, as Dan and I take turns chasing her up the stairs, and as we let her crawl all over us, we get tired. We think about the fact that she was climbing those stairs before we went to Moldova in August, when she was 8 months old. Then I ponder the wisdom of this advice. If I had followed this advice, maybe I’d be a lot less tired! In the 7th month, we are advised to “Take the baby out of the playpen, every now and then, so he has some space to roll over for example.”

The Dutch Know Flowers

2007-12-11T01:32:00.000+01:00

One of the things on my “must do while in Holland” list was to get a Dutch potpourri-bouquet of flowers. When I get flowers (and I confess, it’s quite often), it’s usually roses or tulips, but I love the potpourri-bouquets they have here. A friend surprised me with such a bouquet the other day, and I’ve been enjoying the mix very much. Wouldn’t you? (Dank u wel, Vriend)

And then, there are the greenhouse tulips that are reaching the market! Aren’t they wonderful?!

Advice, please.

2007-12-07T00:06:00.000+01:00

I am completely clueless as to how to get a jetlagged baby de-jetlagged.

Sinterklaas

2007-12-02T15:18:00.000+01:00

Sinterklaas arrived a couple weeks ago, using the time to prepare for the great filling of shoes on December 5, I presume. I’ve not had one Sinterklaas sighting, but his helpers, the Zwarte Pieten are everywhere. Yesterday, we saw they had commandeered a bus, and went about the town tooting its horn. Also yesterday, we saw three Zwarte Pieten in the airport in a trio. They were pretty good. Nothing like three Zwarte Pieten playing Christmas carols to welcome you back from your grandmother’s funeral! Of course, there are the window displays of Zwarte Pieten as well. Why are they always climbing ropes? Practicing to get to the rooftops on December 5? I thought Sinterklaas came in through the front door here in The Netherlands.

Last Minute Trips

2007-11-29T13:50:00.001+01:00

Death in the family on Friday, in the States on Tuesday. I think we're fortunate that in our 3 years overseas, this is our first "emergency" trip back home.

Traveling overseas alone with a baby had me a bit nervous! How have some of my friends and family done it with more than one?? Oh! And the differences between our trip last Christmas and now are incredible. Last December, we traveled to The Netherlands to Colorado with a 2-month old baby who slept all but 1 hour. This week, I traveled from The Netherlands to Michigan with a 13-month old baby who was awake all but 4 hours. Rebecca and I made a lot of friends in the 87 trips up and down the airplane aisles. And she was so good, I don't even think we made very many enemies in the seats surrounding ours.

We'll see how the return trip on Friday goes!

The Thanksgiving That Was

2007-11-23T22:20:00.000+01:00

I haven't celebrated Thanksgiving in America since 2003. I guess that's not a really long time, but it's long enough. We had a variety of other things to do yesterday, and our day began at 5 a.m. in order to be at an appointment in Utrecht that began at 7:30 a.m. I guess the appointment schedulers didn't consider the fact that in America, it was Thanksgiving.

I realized what a weird day it had been when I was making our Thanksgiving dinner from lentils and rice. Then I realized it was an even stranger day when we went grocery shopping, and I bought tulips.

Who's coming for turkey and all the fixin's next year? I'm hosting.

Houseguests

2007-11-07T08:24:00.000+01:00

We've had a trail of visitors to the Barn this year, most of them depositing themselves here after a flight from America. It's funny entertaining jetlagged visitors. One of my friends slept till 2 p.m. and, in a way only she can, scrambled downstairs as fast as I've heard anybody, apologizing profusely when she found me. Nothing to apologize for, of course. Maybe I needed to apologize for not waking her sooner.

And then there are the eating habits. Guests routinely get hungry at midnight, about the time of their supper at home. We're sure to have on hand crackers and peanut butter or other good midnight snacks to curb their appetites.

Our guest room is in the attic, and I think it's becoming legendary. Actually, I think it's the nicest room in the house. However, as with all rewards, there is some risk. The risk of this guest room is that, especially with weary travelers, a guest will fall down Dutch (i.e. steep) stairs or a guest will bonk his or her head on the low ceiling upon awaking.

Some of our guests have stayed in our neighbor's overflow rooms next door. They are quite spoiled there, sleeping on freshly ironed sheets, receiving hot water bottles to put at the feet, chatting over late-night tea, and gaining new friends with whom to correspond. The hospitality received over there far surpasses my "The cereal is in the cupboard, help yourself" hospitality.

Oh, there are other fun things about seeing our life through the eyes of visitors. As is common here, our dishwasher and fridge are "custom", looking exactly like the cabinets in the kitchen. We've had guests think we don't have a fridge, look through all the cabinets until they find the dishwasher, and go outside of our apartment to look for the milk. There are the exclamations (out of horror or delight, I'm not sure) that we live in the country with hundreds of cows around! And most people think we are kidding when we tell them we'll take the boat across the river. We've had close calls with the adventuruous guests of ours, some nearly getting stranded for the night with a useless mobile phone at a far away train station, one nearly giving herself a heart attack by trying to pedal a bike with a flat tire, others getting lost on their walks, and still others nearly starving to death (twice) as we sat in Dutch traffic.

This parade of guests isn't your typical Fouth of July parade, but, with all it's twists and turns, it's certainly just as fun! I only hope our guests think the same!

Adaptable

2007-10-31T16:32:00.000+01:00

If I had the time and the stamina, I would count all the new things (from foreign-language vocabulary to gadgets to rules and regulations) I’ve had to learn in the past 2 years and 10 months. Talking to someone recently about living overseas, I realized I’ve created three categories to help me handle my life: things I know already, things I don’t know, and things I don’t care to know.

Things I know already are my respite, a sanctuary. When my brain is particularly overloaded, I fall back on an old recipe rather than try something new. When I am a little homesick, I enjoy going to one of the places I’ve lived before – either in person or through pictures. When I’m trying to have an intelligent conversation and watch Rebecca at the same time, I will most certainly use English rather than muddle through in Dutch.

Things I don’t know are all around. Is this the right custom? Do you pronounce this word with the accent on the first or second syllable? Where can I find sweet potatoes? It’s so important to have people around me who can answer such questions or point me in the right direction. Or at the very least, not laugh in my face when I ask them.

And then there are the things that I just don’t care to learn. Like how on earth to get the rear windshield wiper to turn off on our car (the car I drive every two weeks, maybe). The other day, I just ended up moving the little joystick thingy that controls such things up and down and back and forth and every which way until the wiper stopped wiping. Works for me.

Birthday-ed

2007-10-25T22:41:00.000+02:00

We celebrated two birthdays this week. Dutch, South African, Gabonese, Armenian, Polish, Russian, and French nationalities were represented. And they all did so well helping to celebrate a 31st and 1st birthday! I love the fact that nobody really knows what's expected.

Thoughtful gifts were given and appreciated, and then a timid admission of "Is it OK? I don't know what to do for a birthday here" was made.

Explanations of "splatter cakes" (for the 1-year old, not the 31-year old) were given.

Awkward moments of 'do I kiss three times on the cheek, shake hands, or hug?' were survived (hopefully with grace).

"Happy Birthday" and "Lang zal je leven" were sung.

Jokes about the size of the disposable plates being "American" were made.

Cream cheese frosting was described as "the topping on the cake."

"The Big One" birthday decorations were instantly recognized as imported from America. I didn't think it was THAT obvious.

Going Dutch

2007-10-22T13:05:00.000+02:00

We’ve been having fantastic fall weather – not raining a lot and most days are sunny and cool. After a summer and early fall of rain and rain and rain and rain and not much sun, people are recreating outside in droves. As I’ve been riding around, I’ve been noticing the variety of transportation people use here.

I was waiting to get on the punt the other day, and a bright yellow bullet-bike came up the hill at me. Behind yellow bullet-bike guy were 9 motorcycles, including one with a sidecar and a passenger wearing the old-style motorcycling goggles. It made me giggle. The punt was delayed a bit because there were two sailboats and a barge on the river, and they have the right of way, I guess.

Recently, I was walking and pushing Rebecca in her stroller. As I rounded the corner by our home, there were three hot air balloons above our house. This is ballooning country, but I’ve never seen them so close to our house. It was a lovely sight.

Then there was the lady on her powered wheelchair rolling toward the store one Saturday morning. And the guy behind her on the moped that really isn’t a moped it is so small. I was on my bike, and was trying to draft off the lady, but when I noticed there were at least 5 cars behind us going the speed of powered wheelchair lady, the first chance I got I passed her so the automobile drivers would have one less object (me) to avoid.

Rebecca and I watch for the horse and cart that goes past the house a few times a week. Sometimes I’m able to get outside fast enough to greet it, and the children on the cart like to wave at Rebecca. We also often see horses and their riders on the trails and roads around here.

I love that people go out in whatever vehicle they have. Today while running errands, I encountered a family who was walking around town do their own errands. The eldest daughter had a broken leg and she was out in her wheelchair, tooling around on the sidewalks with her younger sister pushing her.

It goes without saying bicycles are common here. Our breakfast time coincides with the start of the school day, so we watch the many, many children riding their bikes to school each morning. The days must be getting shorter because on Friday, most of the kids had their bicycle’s headlights working. We have a tandem bike here at The Barn, at least 12 other regular bikes in the garage (for various people, not all are ours), and my friend, the recumbent-bike riding man, I often see wheeling down the road toward the river on his recumbent bike. And every once in awhile I see a very practical bike tooling around the neighboring town.

Walking, Strollering, Wheelchairing, Horse and Carting, Bicycling, Mopeding, Motorcycling, Punting, Barging, Sailing, Ballooning, and Driving

And that’s not even including tractors and busses and trains and planes and subways and trams and lorries and other forms that I’m not thinking about right now. Whew!

Re-Online

2007-10-06T23:07:00.000+02:00

We dread out customer “service” calls to our telephone/internet company. We can negotiate just fine through the phone trees by now. It’s just that this company has terrible, terrible customer service. And we have to pay for every minute we are on the phone. Nice, huh?

So far, Dan has been on the phone 5 minutes with them and has been transferred three times. “Do you speak English?” he asks every time a new person comes on the line. Yes, of course they do. Then he explains the problem again.

It sounds like there is some progress being made. No more transfers, either. The problem started yesterday, we (and others in the neighborhood) lost our phone and internet. And then they started digging and then it still wasn’t fixed when it was quitting time, so the workman told us that they had to go home (4 p.m. on a Friday!), but they hoped another workcrew would come. Thankfully, another crew did come, and our phone worked again, but our wireless was kaput.

…25 minutes later, the call has ending and our wireless works again. 10 cents a minute x 25 minutes x a terrible exchange rate = too much time and money for a problem that wasn’t our fault.

070707

2007-10-03T13:33:00.000+02:00

This is one of the several backed-up postings I’ve been intending to write for some time. The caffeine thing I pledged to do hasn’t worked. I drink it so little these days that when I try, it makes me so jittery I can’t stay still long enough to concentrate.

One very special Saturday this summer, Dan, Dan’s sister, Rebecca, and I decided to visit one of the castles in the area. There are several to choose from, and instead of being an easy decision, we overanalyzed it (Which one gives us a nice drive? Is there a self-guided tour? Will it be OK for Rebecca? Are there other things to do in the area? Is the tour expensive? Is it special enough for this special day? And on and on…) Anyway, we finally picked this one…

It is the Ammersoyen Castle. The castle information sight said that it was open on Saturdays, but when I called to confirm they were open this particular Saturday, there was no answer. “Well, that doesn’t mean anything,” I reasoned, “the Netherlands isn’t known for its fabulous customer service.”

So, we took the nice drive and when we got to the castle, we noticed a good number of cars, so we were relieved. But then we noticed that some of the other “tourists” had on kilts. And the kids were very dressed up. And that lady in the big white silk dress???

Yet, there wasn’t a sign announcing that the castle was closed. And no one stopped us from crossing the moat. Dan and Elaine wanted to proceed no further, but I was determined, “There’s no sign! Certainly this is just a wedding in part of the castle.” Oh, but we’re in The Netherlands. I searched in vain for the ticket desk, until the mother-of-the-bride told us this was a private wedding. I crashed a wedding.

With our heads hung low, we left and instead of touring inside the castle, we walked the grounds outside. And then we went to dinner to celebrate the special day. And then we went home and ate cake and opened presents.

We crashed a wedding, and then we celebrated Dan’s birthday.

Cookie-ohs

2007-09-20T14:03:00.000+02:00

I felt like a real mother last Sunday when I packed Cheerios for Rebecca’s snack. All the times I’ve seen little kids with their Tupperware containers full of Cheerios in the church nursery flooded my mind. Rebecca, like most other kids who have tried them, loves them, and I love giving them to her.

But, I also felt like a real American mother last Sunday when Dan reported what the lady in charge of the nursery asked him. She commented, “What are those little cookies you brought for Rebecca? She just loved them!”

P.S. If I ration just right, I have enough Cheerios to last us until the end of the year.

Routinely

2007-09-19T09:58:00.000+02:00

It’s funny how quickly routine sets in for me these days. Over the last 3 years, I’ve learned how to adjust quickly and get along with whatever I have at a certain moment. I can’t say I always do this happily, but maybe the next three years will teach me how to be more content. Anyway, while in Moldova, I do the smart thing and drink bottled water. While in Holland, I do as I prefer to do and drink tap water. Oh, there are a multitude of other examples. In Moldova, Dan sighed, “I haven’t had to take an umbrella with me for the last two weeks!” I got quite used to the lack of rain as well. Then there is me on Monday, trying predict when the rain would stop long enough to make an (absolutely necessary) mad dash to the store. The excitement of using a dryer when we are in the States is almost too much for me to handle, but the simplicity of hanging the clothes out on the line when in Holland is really nice, too.

No matter how quickly I establish a new (or re-adopt an old) routine, it’s amazing how a previous one grips me when I least expect it. Today, I felt funny turning on the tap to fill Rebecca’s sippy cup. Yesterday, I just didn’t have the patience to wait for the damp Dutch air to dry my clothes, so I borrowed the neighbor’s dryer. But on Monday, I just couldn’t bear the thought of bringing an umbrella. Rebecca and I both ended up sopping wet.

Back

2007-09-13T11:11:00.000+02:00

Ahh…exhaustion has set in. It’s difficult to travel with a baby, to get home and immediately have a deadline for work to meet, to find time to unpack with a baby who takes great pleasure in undoing everything that has been done, to have to cook again, to help the baby remember how to nap in her normal room.

I give all the credit in the world to all expats who travel abroad with 2 or 3 or 4 or more children. Even 10 days later, sleep sounds so nice…

It – the traveling and the experiencing – is worth it, though. And it’s so nice being back in Western Europe and being able to turn on the faucet and have drinkable water come out of the tap. It’s the small things, you know?

Moldova in Bullet Points

2007-09-01T08:30:00.000+02:00

Today we leave Moldova. Bittersweet. We came here for work, and work we did, making a lot of progress (in our minds, at least) about what the next steps are for our work and our life.

In between work, we had a lot of fun, in an American-family-with-10-month-old-baby-visiting-Moldova-for-three-weeks kind of way...
-I finally mastered the fine art of getting a stroller in and out of an elevator so small (or was the stroller so big?) that there was less than 1 cm of clearance.
-Americans to talk with - AMERICANS! People like us!
-Being reunited with our Moldovan friends.
-I can now negotiate taxi fares in Romanian. Dan can now negotiate taxi fares in Romanian AND hold a decent conversation with the taxi drivers.
-We introduced Rebecca to the minibus, and then we decided to stick with taxis after contemplating the chances that during the ride she would either pick up a communicable disease or get a head injury.
-On a related note, while we were here, we also learned that most drivers believe that carseats belong in the trunks of their cars.
-Babushkas seeing Rebecca, holding Rebecca, and taking her away to show her off.
-Visiting underground wine cellars, villages, and monastaries.
-Big Lapiks! Ice cream in a bag! Watermelon!
-I learned how to make mamalyga (and it was goooood....)
-Air conditioning! Of course, to keep the neighbors below us happy and to give ourselves a chance to sleep, Dan "rewired" our air conditioner. (Can you tell he is the son of a surgeon and the grandson of an engineer?)

Reasons to Celebrate

2007-08-31T21:28:00.000+02:00

This is one of the better (and strangest) reasons to celebrate I've heard of. In Moldova today, we are celebrating Limba Noastra, or Language Day. What exactly are we celebrating? Well, under Russian and USSR rule, the Cyrillic alphabet was used in Moldova. So today we celebrate the fact that in Moldova now people can speak Romanian and use the Latin alphabet instead of the Cyrillic one! So now I know why there is a 31 August 1989 Street in Chisinau!

By the way, the topic of language is so important in Moldova that the national anthem is about Limba Noastra. The lyrics (see the translation) are pretty moving. If you want to be moved some more, click the links at the right to read the other anthems Moldova has had to get a sense of the history of the country.

By the way again, this is the second holiday this week - on Monday it was Moldovan Independence Day. I hear from people who have lives - I mean, who don't have a baby - that the celebrations were quite festive, with traditional dancing and good food and great fireworks. It was Moldova's Sweet Sixteen this year. I haven't seen 27 August Street in Chisinau, come to think of it...

Serious Musings On Moldova

2007-08-29T08:53:00.000+02:00

My mind can’t get around the differences between the Moldova of 2005 and the Moldova of 2007. We’ve come to the country as they experience their worst drought in years. Our economist friend tells us that $1 billion of the GDP has been dried up (literally) as a result of the heat and lack of rain. That is $1 billion in a country whose GDP is only $3 billion. In August 2005, the sunflower fields were bright and shining, beautiful. Now, the fields are withered almost beyond recognition. The cornfields are similar, instead of green and thick with ears of corn, the stalks are brown and dry.

There is a renewed interest in preserving the power of Orthodox religion. From the people I speak to, in 2005 there was hope the communists would be ousted in 2009. Now, there is little hope they won’t be re-elected, thanks to a smart series of moves to win over this largely Orthodox nation. In addition to a law that will likely be passed that outlaws non-Orthodox religious gatherings of 100 people or less, the state is courting the Orthodox church in practical ways. On Saturday we visited two churches, including one monastery, and both were being renovated. For villages without any means of employment, a state-run renovation of the village church means a chance to earn money, a nicer church in which to worship, and maybe even more tourism. Of course, the fact that the state mandated the renovation will be remembered come election time.

Politics seem to be on people’s minds much more than two years ago for other reasons, too. The Russian influence is growing more important, for practical reasons like needing affordable natural gas to heat homes as well has other, less-altruistic reasons, I’m sure. Romania recently joined the EU, and that has impacted this Romanian-speaking country. Moldovans can no longer travel into Romania freely. They are required to have a visa to enter Romania, and with only one embassy (as well as Eastern European bureaucracy one just needs to experience to understand), the time it takes to obtain a visa makes it impractical to visit. The Ukraine is still open to Moldovans, but I’m hearing very often how Moldovans feel trapped now that Romania is closed to them.

Finally, the voice of the youth is more visible to me this year. I have spoken to several teenagers, many of whom have grown up without a parent in the home because that parent had to leave Moldova to find work. One 19-year old told me yesterday, “I don’t want to leave Moldova. My mother had to leave, so I have only seen her for a total of 1 year over the last 7 years. I want to find a way I can stay here.” With 1 in 4 Moldovans working abroad today, one can imagine how many children were raised by older siblings, grandparents, or in single-parent homes. As these youth enter adulthood, it will be interesting to see how they right the wrongs they perceive were done to them.

Beyond Our Walls

2007-08-24T12:14:00.000+02:00

This time around, Moldova to me is taking care of a baby, a rickety elevator, a huge grocery store, hot hot temps, cheap restaurant food, taxis, and 1 room of air conditioning. In 2005, it was so different - minibus rides, visits to clients, playing with Nelia, cooking with hoof meat, and trips to the market. Taking care of the little girl has changed what I experience of Moldova in a big way. But that's OK - I'm glad for the experience in 2005, and I'm glad for the experience this year.

Beyond the space of our apartment, I know Moldovan life is bustling, just as it always is. People are always around, going home or shopping or to work. There isn't much comparison between village life in The Netherlands and city life in Moldova. In The Netherlands, our life is dictated by rigid schedules, like the hours stores are open and what day the market comes to the town center. In Moldova, stores are open early in the morning to late at night and the markets are open every day of the week. Instead of the bakery shelves being empty at 5 p.m., like they are in Holland, the shelves here are being restocked at that time. We had dinner delivered last night, from a place that delivers non-stop. I wish we had that option during the 4 a.m. feedings with newborn baby.

So I'm spending a lot of time in our apartment, but my life within these walls is very nice. Since the prices here are relatively low, I don't cook here when I don't want to, and we can afford to have a babysitter come everyday. While I've been here, I have been able to participate in Romanian class, work, and sleep! Amazing!

When we learned how to say, "Do you miss home?" in class yesterday, I had to think twice about how to answer.

From an Email I Just Wrote

2007-08-20T08:49:00.000+02:00

Thought it was an appropriate update on life in Moldova.

Hot here in Moldova, and the people below us don't like the dripping from our AC unit. (Nothing like Russian-speakers knocking on our door, motioning about dripping water driving them crazy.) The baby is doing really well. Our Romanian language lessons are going well, although I caused a hubbub at McDonald's when I didn't say "inghetata" correctly, and they had to call in a manager to take my order for "ice cream". 7 minutes and 12 lei later I walked out the door with a chocolate sundae instead of the vanilla cone that I really wanted. Otherwise, we are making progress, albeit slowly. Pray for open doors and appointments with the right people and organizations. Somehow we need these next 2 weeks to last about 2 months...

It's Official

2007-08-15T13:38:00.000+02:00

I'm certifiably crazy. For attempting to come to Moldova with an almost 10-month old in the first place, I must be nuts. And I'm gettier nuttier the longer I'm here. My dad says it's inherited. So that's my excuse?

I Was Supposed to Be Sleeping By Now

2007-08-11T02:03:00.000+02:00

Dan and I have a long, fascinating history of pulling all-nighters the night before a trip. Even before we started traveling abroad a lot, we would be packing into the wee hours of the morning. We leave for Moldova (for any new readers out there, check out my posts from June – August 2005) tomorrow…ummm today…and I was determined it wasn’t going to happen this time. I even counted out 23 vitamins and bagged them in a ziploc last week so I would have one less thing to do today! And then…life happened. We actually made very good progress today. The little girl was excellent, especially when she went walking with our neighbor and her two granddaughters. But then, just as I was turning off my computer, I checked my email. Silly me. The people I work with who live in the U.S. were trying to clear their plates before they left for the weekend, I believe. Normally the 7-hour time difference works in my favor. Not tonight. Now, 2½ hours later, I’m back to that point of shutting down.

Moral of the story: don’t check email when you really need to go to bed. Even if you are going to Moldova and don’t know when you’ll have internet access again. Even if.

Sounds of Summer

2007-08-06T10:51:00.000+02:00

Heard from our garden:
Children playing
Tractors rumbling
Neighbors murmuring
Glasses clinking
Sheep baaing
Cows mooing
Plums falling
Birds chirping
Distant thundering
Motorcycles speeding
Horses clomping
Bicyclers laughing
Baby babbling

The Debates

2007-07-30T22:43:00.000+02:00

Last week, CNN International replayed the You Tube Debates at a time when us expats could watch them. Although I watched them with interest, Rebecca was even more interested. I think she thought John Edwards was cute. I'm not sure what's up with the sock, though.

Oh, So Far Behind!

2007-07-24T13:27:00.000+02:00

You should see how many posts I have lined up to write! My life is just so stimulating these days: changing foreign diapers; working foreign jobs; hosting, attending, and crashing foreign parties; mutilating foreign languages. So many good ideas, so little time. I think I’ll need to drink a nice big glass of Coke one night. It’ll make me so hyper I’ll be able to write for hours…

How Many Expats Does It Take to Change a Lightbulb?

2007-07-24T13:26:00.000+02:00

More than two! I’m going on three years in this country, and I still don’t know how to buy a lightbulb. There are so many classifications! The one I bought most recently is labeled:
9 Watt
Economy
WW827
230-240V ~ 50-60Hz
E27 ES 6000h
425 lumen 60mA.

I was replacing an Economy 9 Watt bulb. And I even took the old one in to compare the bulbs. So WHY DOESN’T IT WORK???

Screens, Bugs, Bites, and Mosquito Nets

2007-07-18T17:09:00.000+02:00

We have 7 windows and 2 doors in The Barn and only 2 of them have screens. Maybe I am spoiled because our home in America had 10 windows and three doors and all of them had screens. With summer finally here, our doors and windows are open a lot, allowing countless bugs into our home. This week, I’ve probably killed more mosquitoes and houseflies than I have in years. The most satisfying swat was the elusive mosquito in Rebecca’s room that bit her several times the last two nights. At least I hope there was only one…hmmm…I think it might be time for a mosquito net.

What IS That?

2007-07-15T21:06:00.000+02:00

Is it...could it...be...hot? As in, I don't need to wear a jacket outside? As in, I have the delicious summertime sticky feeling and my hair must be worn up at all times? As in, the windows and doors can be wide open and there isn't a frigid draft making my legs ache? As in, it is HOT!

Zomertijd

2007-07-11T10:34:00.000+02:00

It’s summertime in Holland, and if you have been reading my blog for at least a year, you know what that means. Holidays. Lots of holidays. One set of neighbors just returned from a four-week vacation in France, and the other set just left for a three week tour of Belgium. They both took their campers. We are homebound for now, having taken a few American vacations (1 week or less) earlier in the year. Of course, we had our epic tour of the States this winter, so don’t feel sorry for us.

I do know someone you should feel sorry for, though. One of our friends teaches, so the best time for him to take time off is during the summer, but he has trouble using it all. Of course, “using it all" means that he would use his NINE WEEKS of vacation time in July and August.

Independence Day

2007-07-06T12:06:00.000+02:00

On Wednesday, shame on us, we weren’t proper Americans and didn’t even dress up in red, white, and blue. However, we four Americans did do something patriotic. The WWII Liberation Museum is near our home, so we toured it, learning about the battles in the area, namely Operation Market Garden, and the liberation of The Netherlands from the Germans by the Allies, which included, of course, Americans.

Then we visited the Canadian War Cemetary. Sobering.

Earlier in the day, Dan had been talking to a Dutchman about American Independence Day. This man proclaimed that, unlike Americans, the Dutch didn’t need an Independence Day, because they are independent already. Of course, he talks of a mindset and the long, glorified Dutch history. However, having toured these WWII sites and others, I would rather have an Independence Day than a Liberation Day. I’m grateful America hasn’t had a war like WWII on its soil: among other more important reasons, I wouldn’t do very well eating tulip soup for a whole winter, and I’m glad my wedding dress wasn’t made out of a castaway parachute.

P.S. And we did all this is the pouring rain, chilled to the bone. I’m getting pretty bitter about this weather.

Good Weather, Good Weather, Where Art Thou?

2007-07-03T21:15:00.000+02:00

In most cities in America right now it’s not cold. In most cities in America right now it’s not raining EVERY day. In most cities in America right now, people don’t have to wear long pants, jackets, and boots. In most cities in America right now, the sun peaks out from behind the clouds before 9 at night.

America, please send nicer weather this way…quickly!

Emergency Rations

2007-07-01T10:29:00.000+02:00

Dan visited an American business partner the other day and came home with a care package full of American food given to us by another American who was moving back to America. I now have some more nice American goodies in my cupboard.

Actually, I have a whole lot of American goodies in my cupboard right now. With so many people visiting us from America, we are well-stocked! I have to ask myself, though, when will I use them? I find much greater pleasure in opening up the pantry and seeing loads of American items like cream of chicken soup, Cheerios, and seasoning packets than I do in actually using them.

I confided in my mother-in-law, the expat for 26 years, this problem, and she could empathize. “It’s much better knowing you have the stuff,” she said. Nevertheless, I know I need to use this food. So, I took the plunge, and I opened a box of Cheerios. Throwing rations to the wind, I’m even going to eat them before they go stale.

Happy Birthday, America!

2007-07-01T10:28:00.001+02:00

I’m trying to use America or American as many times as I can this week, as my Fourth of July celebration.

The Gelderland Smeerkaas Disaster

2007-06-29T15:37:00.000+02:00

“Bread and cheese. That’s what your baby needs right now,” advised the nurse at the consultatiebureau a few weeks ago.

I nodded my head. “OK,” I said, although I was thinking it sounded like Dutch-centric advice. Bread and cheese is what this nurse has for lunch every day, more than likely, along with many of her fellow countrymen. That or pea soup. But it couldn’t be that bad: After all, the Dutch are the tallest people in Europe, and they are certainly very healthy. I should have said, “A Big Mac has bread and cheese on it, so that’s OK, right?” But I think she would have missed the joke.

Earlier this week, I decided to take her advice. I sent Dan to the store to buy smeerkaas, a spreadable cheese kind of like the kind I loved as a kid, the kind that came in a can and I could squirt it directly into my mouth. (This doesn’t come in a can, though.) I diligently spread some cheese on small bits of bread and placed the bread bits on Rebecca’s highchair tray.

Little did I know.

Smeerkaas, come to think of it, is sticky. As soon as I placed 5 pieces of bread on Rebecca’s tray, Rebecca had 5 pieces of bread stuck to her hand. Seeing the piece of bread stuck to the middle of her palm, Rebecca would try to eat it, by sticking her palm onto her mouth. Of course, the four pieces stuck to her fingers would end up in on her nose, cheeks, and eye. By the end of the meal, we had smeerkaas smeared everywhere. I muttered to myself, “There must be a secret all Dutch mothers know that I don’t when it comes to feeding 8 month olds smeerkaas.”

Now I make cute little sandwiches with smeerkaas smeared in the middle, which is lessening the smearing of smeerkaas elsewhere. Smart Mommy.

Driver’s Ed

2007-06-28T11:23:00.000+02:00

We are sadly counting down the days that our US driver’s licenses are valid here in Holland. Being car dependent once again, Dan has enrolled in driver’s education classes, willingly subjecting himself to learning a litany of rules and regulations (most of which are not followed by most drivers, according to my observations), berating from the instructor (You’re too close to the center line! You didn’t check your five points! You shifted too slowly!), and taking a series of exams (how many, nobody knows). It’ll be my turn if a) I find the courage and b) We don’t go broke paying for Dan’s.

I have been reading the textbook, though, from time to time. Here’s what I’ve learned:
-A horseback rider is a driver. So is a leader of horses or cattle.
-A tractor is a motor vehicle, but a tram is a tram.
-An invalid carriage is not wider than 1.1 meters, but a four-wheel moped is wider that 1.1 meters. Both can only go 45 km/h.
-You must go “dead slow” in an erf.
-The bike path is an official part of the road.

Some of the material is similar to what I learned when I was 15, but some is entirely different, especially those rules related to energy conservation, such as:
-You should not drive with your windows down, because it uses more petrol.
-You must turn off your car if idling for more than 20 seconds.

Then there are the safety rules. Some I don’t understand why they have to be said, some I agree with, and some I don’t:
-Joy-riding is a crime.
-Holding a mobile telephone while driving is illegal.
-Putting a baby in an infant seat in the front seat of a car is permitted (if the air bag is turned off).

I looked quickly for a picture of an invalid carriage on the web, but I couldn’t find one. I’ll keep looking…however, I did find something from the Wikipedia library. Check out the picture.

It's 9:30 in the Evening

2007-06-24T21:34:00.000+02:00

We have 1 hour and 16 minutes of daylight left. How much more blue sky will YOU have today?

Taking My Mind Off Things

2007-06-20T21:04:00.000+02:00

My dad left yesterday. I was trying to occupy myself on the drive back from Dusseldorf, not wanting to think about the empty house that would be there at the end of the drive. So, here is what I concentrated on:

I decided I was one of the slowest four-wheelers on the autobahn in Germany. The BMWs and Mercedes and other not-so-luxurious cars go much faster than me. But I have a mental block: when I see the speedometer hitting 100, it’s hard to make myself go faster. Nevermind that’s in kilometers per hour. At least in The Netherlads there is a speed limit of 120, so I’m not quite so pokey there, where I do most of my driving.

I did find one car that went slower than me. The driver of this car (is that really allowed on the autobahn?) must have been the bravest person on the road. I wouldn’t want to be in that car amongst trucks 27 times my size and cars going twice my speed. It didn’t even have real wheels. They were more like spare “donuts”.

Once in Holland, I started to dwell on the fact that summer construction is as rampant here as it is in the States. And then I decided it was good for my Dutch vocabulary. There are bright yellow signs everywhere saying “omleiding” and then telling us what letter to “volg” for the detour. It’s a smart system: every detour is given a letter or a number that the people on the detour should follow. Then there are signs posted every several meters with that letter or number. Since some detours cross, it’s better than just putting up a “detour” sign.

Then, I got home, and thankfully I didn’t have too long to be sad. The little girl starting singing to herself, then crawling around, then she got a bad case of the hiccups. Who can be sad when there is a crawling hiccupping baby to watch?

Later in the day, I visited the people who are vacationing next door to us. Earlier in the day, I spied a baby about Rebecca’s age. Turns out, that little girl is only 3 hours younger than Rebecca! And they were born at the same hospital!

I Don't Know What Direction I Was Facing

2007-06-18T22:21:00.000+02:00

In The Netherlands, the clouds are our mountains.

Post, except title, picture and "The Netherlands" reference, unashamedly copied from a blogger whose life is parallel mine in a scary number of ways.

Don’t Tell Dan

2007-06-18T22:17:00.000+02:00

In a haze not so long ago, I bought wasverzachter instead of wasmiddel and I used it on loads and loads of clothes. Oops. Guess I’m still not used to the brands of fabric softener vs. laundry detergent. But one thinks I could at least read…

Biker Baby

2007-06-15T21:06:00.000+02:00

Grandpa bought Rebecca a windscreen for her Bobike babyseat, so biking has been nicer for Little One. Her eyes don’t water and get all bloodshot from the wind in her face, and the bugs don’t get plastered to her face. (OK, so I never saw a bug on her face, but it is a possibility, given the number of them I’ve swallowed.) Anyway, she loves riding the bike. She grips the handlebars and says, “RRRRrrrr.” She pats and pets my hand. She hangs her right arm down to touch my knee every time I pedal. She watches the sheep and the cows and the cars. And today, she waved at all of them, too.

(This is also published on Rebecca's blog...if I know you and you would like access to it, please let me know!)

Sporting Woes

2007-06-14T21:00:00.000+02:00

My sport-watching fanaticism is continuing. Verlander pitched a no-hitter this week, and I didn’t even have a chance to watch it. And now Phil is on the course RIGHT now at the U.S. Open, so says my trusty msn.com, and it’s nearly my bedtime.

Parade of Visitors and Their Observations

2007-06-07T21:28:00.000+02:00

We’ve now hosted 8 people in the last 6 weeks. And there is still one more to come! Actually, this year has been wonderful, with visits from other friends as well earlier in the year. Having a baby is good for refining hospitality giftings!

Anyway, it’s been fun to listen to our visitors’ observations about what strikes them. By no means have I completely adapted to life here; I still giggle when I see mothers with three children loaded on her bike and I will never grow tired of seeing the green, green pastures. There are things I don’t notice anymore, though. Off the top of my head, here are some:

-Windows open funny. They swing like a door and they open from the top at a slight angle.
-Attic bedrooms make for great games of bonking heads.
-Yards are called gardens.
-“zuid” is pronounced “zoud”, not “zoo-eed”
-Streets are narrow.
-Can’t understand people around you, but as an English speaker, if you try you can understand a lot of the signs around. Dutch is sometimes similar to English and there are also a lot of English words mixed into the language.

If Only The Netherlands Were Closer

2007-06-01T22:49:00.000+02:00

My friend’s father died last week. He was my chauffeur throughout high school, giving my friend and me rides to school every morning. He scared the living daylights out of me one Halloween as I walked up the front steps by popping out the door wearing a gruesome mask. He took us ice fishing and made us popcorn during our sleepovers. He raised two outstanding daughters and was enjoying being a grandfather.

My heart hurts for my friend. I wish I could be there for her and her family like she and her family were there for me in high school. It’s one of those times when I wish the Atlantic Ocean wasn’t quite so big.

THIS is Blogworthy

2007-05-31T19:08:00.000+02:00

Amen

Imagine what happens when garbage pick up is EVERY OTHER WEEK and you have a baby!

Catching Up

2007-05-27T13:23:00.000+02:00

I got tagged earlier this month, when my blogging time was non-existent. So now here are 7 random things about me. In the spirit of the blog, they are expat-related.

1. Summer in the The Netherlands reminds me of summer in the U.P., where I grew up. Riding bicycles, buying pop at the neighborhood stores, or on the farm watching the cows cool off in the pond.
2. I created a list of things for people to bring when they come here, or for us to use when we are in the States. It’s very handy and helps ensure we don’t run out of mustard or chocolate chips.
3. This life has its ups and downs. I’m not sure if we’re up or down right now, but I sure am glad I have my faith to cling to. God isn’t up or down…he’s always there.
4. On Mother’s Day, we went to the pannekoekhuis for pancakes. I’m still tasting the delicious one I got: beef, bell peppers, leeks, cheese, and ham. These ain’t no American pancakes.
5. I’ve had three silver round frames for almost 5 years now, I even brought them across the ocean, and I am finally putting pictures in them. Just had to wait for the right subject: Rebecca!
6. We just bought a car that we like very much. It has more than 235,000 kilometers on it, no air-conditioning, and no radio, but it’s been called luxurious and beautiful. I like the Dutch standard of not having standards when it comes to such things.
7. Another recently acquired possession is from Germany and is something I’ve been waiting to find for 2+ years. A broom. A real, long-handled, long-bristled broom. Thank goodness Germans know how to sweep.

Where Have I Seen You?

2007-05-24T17:18:00.000+02:00

Today at the store a man looked terribly familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him. After thinking about it awhile, I realized what it was. I hadn’t seen him, actually, but I have seen the likes of him – in America. Why did he look so familiar? He was wearing a baseball cap.

I Need Another Name

2007-05-24T09:37:00.000+02:00

That does it. The decision is made. I need another name. Not a different name, but another name. My three names don’t look important enough anymore. Dutch people have such impressive looking names: D.S.G. Hendriks and L.W.M. van Nieuwenhoven, for example. Those two names, by the way, are the reason I made this decision. We got two letters yesterday, one from each of these people, and when I thought about replying to them and signing the letter with my measly little initials of B.L., I just don’t measure up.

You see, we don’t use our real first, second, third, fourth, and fifth names here. (Yep, this week, I saw a name with 5 initials.) We just use the initials for anything except the last name. Surname, that is. So, of course, it makes sense to have lots of names before the surname. That way you can make a name out of your initials.

So, what should my next name be? Should it go after the “L”? Or should it be Isabelle, placed before the “L”, so I can be known as B.I.L.? Or maybe B.E.L. would be better.

Goodbyes

2007-05-17T17:29:00.001+02:00

The deafening quiet of normalcy has returned to our home once again. We’ve been so fortunate to have had a series of guests this year, friends and family alike. Today my schoonouders left, and when we got back from dropping Grandma and Grandpa off at the airport, the familiar empty feeling gripped me. How silent the house is with just Dan, Rebecca, and me in it. How futile it seems to prepare a lunch without a table full of people to eat it.

Even before leaving for Europe, I had my share of goodbyes. We lived a thousand miles (give or take a few) away from all parents, and the closest siblings were still a 6-hour drive away. In all, we see our family and some friends a good bit, considering the distance and our busy lives. But no matter how much we are together and how many times I say goodbye, that empty feeling always returns. It creeps into the pit of my stomach the morning of departure, and climaxes when I get back to the house and hear the silence echoing throughout our home.

At the airport this morning, my father-in-law mentioned how fortunate we are to have the hope of eternal life, where, presumably, we won’t have to say goodbye. He’s right. Until then, however, I have the certainty of two more family-visits this year. Anyone else care to come?

De Pont

2007-04-22T10:05:00.000+02:00

Or is it het pont? I'm not sure.

Anyway, we live on the other side of the river. The most direct way to get from our village to the other side of the river is to use a pont! I love using the pont, despite occassional motion sickness if I'm blocked in by other cars and can't see the water. Of course, it helps that I get to see one of the best roadsigns ever every time we use it.

Imagine doing this in America: turning off your motor and your lights while you wait the 5 minutes for the pont, even in the cold or hot or night.

The excitement builds as the pont makes its way across the river!

And when it crashes into the riverbank (or is it river bank?) the motors turn on and the bicyclers get ready to GO!

And then the next load gets on and enjoys views like this during the crossing.

It's also so easy to appreciate how the Dutch appreciate being outside when you see them outside of their cars, walking down to the river edge as they wait for the pont to come or how they leave their cars to enjoy the sun as they are crossing on a nice day.

Nothing Beats

2007-04-19T21:51:00.000+02:00

A lady in the grocery store telling me I have a "heel mooie meisje". It beats even a spring sunshiny day in the Netherlands for two reasons: (1) It's nice to see that your daughter brings joy to other people and (2) I can reply to such people in Dutch and they continue to speak Dutch to me. I have them fooled! (Or at least I can fool myself by thinking I have them fooled!)

When I Grow Up

2007-04-17T15:04:00.000+02:00

I want THIS for my backyard. Yep, went to Keukenhof. Also bicycled around the tulip fields. Just as pretty as last year! And the year before!

Nothing Beats

2007-04-12T14:39:00.000+02:00

Sun shiny springtime in the Netherlands.

Hazards of Dutch Living

2007-04-09T00:53:00.000+02:00

I don’t know when it happened, but it did. I like watching…golf. I’ve never played a hole in my life, but there is something exciting (oh, goodness, I can’t believe I just wrote that) about watching a tournament. I don’t have live coverage of golf tournaments here, but I still “watch” the tournament via Leaderboard updates on the web. So here I am, tired, eyes burning, 15 minutes before 1 a.m., and I cannot make myself go to bed because Tiger is on the 17th hole and is two strokes behind the leader on Sunday at the Masters!

Compounding Confusion

2007-04-05T23:54:00.000+02:00

The Dutchlanguage is full of compoundwords. I guess I’ve been here in the Netherlands too long, because now I’m getting myself all confused. Now, I know that my Englishlanguageskills are failing a bit, but this is bad. At first, way back when we were living in Rotterdam, I could easily point out compoundwordproblems – like when the churchbulletin said “weddingservice” instead of “wedding service”. Well, that’s all gone kaput. Take, for instance, the package of toiletpaper that I stare at when I’m…err…on the toilet. So, in English, is it toilet paper or toiletpaper?

And what about the carton of sinaasappelsap? Again, in my mother tongue, is it orangejuice or orange juice?

Is it attraction park or attractionpark?

Is it babywipes or baby wipes?

Is it oatmeal or oat meal? (What am I doing with German oatmeal anyway?)

Is it wheat flour or wheatflour? (Why not just flour, come to think of it?)

Is it applesauce or apple sauce?

Is it peanutcheese…I mean peanutbutter or peanut butter? (Pindakaas literally means peanutcheese. I like it!)

Is it Nilehorse or hippopotamus? (Oh, wait, that’s not really a compoundword.)

In fact, there are so many compoundwords in this language, that there is special grammar associated with them. For example, “Hand and Nail Cream” is (translated) “hand- and nailcream”. That little dash had me scratching my head for awhile a few months ago, “Hmm, does that exist in English?” I thought. I don’t think so, but it seems awfully convenient.

Thank goodness for the little red squigglyline underneath all the wrong compoundwords when I type them into MS Word. Keeps me a little less confused, unless my computer isn't close by. Or is it closeby?

Nightmares

2007-04-03T11:12:00.000+02:00

I had a horrible dream last night. I had the opportunity to go to - three guesses - c'mon now, it's not that hard - KEUKENHOF!

BUT I didn't have batteries for my camera charged and I only had space for 40 pictures remaining on my MemoryStick.

Horrors.

Internationalism

2007-03-31T13:21:00.000+02:00

Last night we had dinner with some MBA-days friends. These friends happened to be a Dutch/Pakistani couple, and they invited their Dutch/Pakistani friends as well. It occurred to me, like it has quite often since moving here, how rich with people and experiences our life is. It is possible to have international friends in America, of course, but it was much harder for me to get out of my comfortable circles of friends and find people from different places.

I began thinking about our diverse array of friends we’ve had since moving here and where they are from: The Netherlands (duh); Dutch who have been overseas in America, New Zealand and Australia, Africa, Central Asia, Eastern Europe; USA; England; France; Finland; Israel; South Africa; Nigeria; Sierra Leone; Cameroon; Uganda; China; Taiwan; Ukraine; Moldova; Pakistan; Mexico; Guatemala; Brazil…

We have friends scattered throughout the world, too. We could visit every continent and be welcomed into many homes on each.

As international as our friends are, there are very rarely times where we feel as if we don’t have anything in common. We have common interests and experiences in Holland to share with each other. Of course, we talk a lot about our own countries, too. For those who are Christians, we have that to bind us together as well. In the end, though, it comes to one thing. We’re all human, we all have a desire for relationships with one another, we all have our stories to tell, and we all have things to learn from each other.

Did I Already Blog About That?

2007-03-31T13:19:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: I’ve reached a point in this blog that I don’t remember what I’ve blogged about and what I haven’t.

So I haven’t been blogging a lot of things because I don’t want to repeat myself. Then I realized that I’m a mother and I’m over 30, so I have an excuse to repeat myself. Then I realized that most of my readership who has been with me since the beginning probably won’t remember anyway. Then I realized that I have lots of new readers.

So who cares…

Spring = Bike

2007-03-28T12:07:00.000+02:00

I'm missing my bike. The sun has been out several days in a row, the birds are playing in the water, the lambs chasing each other, and the flowers are blooming along the side of the roads and in people's gardens. It is the perfect time of year to hop on my bike and explore my new surroundings, with my camera within easy reach. I'm glad Rebecca is sitting up pretty well...that means that it won't be long before she can hop on with me. For now, walking will have to do. It's a nice alternative, though! To walk pushing a baby carriage...

Springing Forward

2007-03-26T16:08:00.000+02:00

Three related thoughts:

1. This weekend we sprung forward to Summer Time, so now I don't have to think too hard about how many hours behind people in the States are. It's back to normal.

2. Summer Time also means that it is nice and light much longer, which makes me happy. The gloomy days of February are long, long over...

3. Doesn't "Summer Time" make much better sense than "Daylight Savings Time", as Summer Time is known in the States?

Countdown

2007-03-22T19:26:00.000+01:00

Keukenhof opens in 0 days.

And. It. Is. COLD. Outside. AND. Windy. But I saw the sun shine...

Now...how many days till Beth GOES to Keukenhof??

The Countdown

2007-03-20T15:07:00.000+01:00

Keukenhof opens in 2 days.

And. It. Is. Hailing. Outside. Right. Now.

The Countdown

2007-03-19T17:05:00.000+01:00

Keukenhof opens in 3 days.

And. It. Sneeuwed. Today.

What's That?

2007-03-14T14:40:00.000+01:00

I ordered something on-line today from a German? company. I wonder if we'll get it, since 1) it is a Dutch website and I only undstood about 50% of what I had to do, 2) I never paid for it. and 3) on the confirmation, it said "leverbaar" under the Availability column. When I free translated it, the best it could give me was "liver bar". Heh?

A is for Available

2007-03-14T14:33:00.000+01:00

Tagged again – and always by the same person. At least now some of my friends are keeping their own blogs…and you are IT.

A- Available or Single? No.
B- Best Friend? Dan.
C- Cake or Pie? Cake, cake, cake. Today’s choice is German chocolate.
D- Drink of Choice? Water.
E- Essential Item? Passport.
F- Favorite Color? RED.
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? Gummi Worms.
H- Hometown? Hancock, Michigan.
I- Indulgence? Taking pictures. I need a new camera, by the way.
J- January or February? Anything BUT February.
K- Kids and names? Rebecca Lenore and she is beautiful.
L- Life is incomplete without…? Knowing God.
M- Marriage Date? June 27, 1998
N- Number of Siblings? One.
O- Oranges or Apples? Granny Smiths.
P- Phobias/Fears? Big, scary spiders. (All spiders are big and all spiders are scary.)
Q- Favorite Quote? “guuuuh gggggguh eeeeeeeeeEEEEEEE” – daughter Rebecca
R- Reasons to smile? Sunny weather in Holland, sunny weather in Holland around tulip time, and sunny WARM weather in Holland.
S- Season? Spring.
T- Tag 3 people? Rachel, Monique, and Mindy
U- Unknown Fact About Me? My mom turns 61 today! Happy birthday, Mom! (Am I going to get in trouble for that?)
V- Vegetable You Hate? Mustard greens. Except that I don’t think I’ve ever tried them.
W-Worst Habit? Procrastination.
X- Xrays You’ve Had? Mouth, foot, suitcases.
Y- Your Favorite Foods? Raspberries. Moldovan raspberries, please.
Z- Zodiac? Libra.

Why'd They Do That?

2007-03-12T15:02:00.000+01:00

How'd I miss this?? I think all State-side family members have an obligation to warn their expat loved ones of such drastic changes in the lives and times of...our...lives...and...times.

I'm a Little Teapot...

2007-03-07T14:11:00.000+01:00

It is simply because children are living up to clothing manufacturers' expectations!

Check on these onesies - the top one is from Holland, the bottom one is from America. Both are for the same age. That's a lot of extra fabric for a 4 month old!

All together now: "I'm a little teapot, short and stout..."

Bejeebers - That's Expensive

2007-03-05T15:40:00.000+01:00

I have hard evidence that things here are more expensive for babies. It's not just because finding a stroller for under $400 seemed nearly impossible when I first figured out we were pregnant. Well, it was possible, but there aren't nearly as many choices here than in the States.

Finally, though, my evidence has come in: I have a direct comparison. I found this toy, which Rebecca got in the States and continues to love here in Holland, at Baby Park. It was 69.99 EUR. That is $91! NINETY-ONE DOLLARS. As my Grandpa would say, "Holy Smokes."

The Countdown

2007-03-05T14:28:00.000+01:00

Some people have graduations to look forward to this spring, others have their weddings. And still others, births of babies. Me? I have TULPEN!!!

Keukenhof opens in 17 days.

Last year, I took 697 pictures...can I top that this year? Remember, I have a little girl to take with me this year. (You should have seen how wide Dan's eyes got when I reminded him of that fact. And, we just bought a new super-sized external hard drive I get to fill up. If I can ever get my computer to admit it's there, connected and ready to receive files. I think it's jealousy issue. "MY files", my 600m says, "MINE.")

Chocolate!

2007-02-26T17:31:00.000+01:00

There is no end to the varieties of chocolate here. Before I moved here, I never was a person who needed a little bit of chocolate every day, but now I am. Just one small piece a day...or more. There are so many varieties! For my everyday indulgence, Albert Heijn Milk Chocolate is a favorite. Strange, because I usually like dark chocolate, but this satisfies my cravings. Besides, if dark chocolate is too dark, I sneeze.

What used to be "exotic" chocolate is rather ordinary now, since it is available all over the country. But it's still good. Then there are the Belgian yummy, yummy chocolates. Oh, Belgian chocolate is good! It helps especially when they are in the shape of seashells. Today, however, I have discovered the chocolate of all chocolates: Lindt Les Pyreneens, Noir. There were 30 when we started. Now there are 17 left. I didn't eat them all, but there is a nice little stack of foil on my desk. To the gift giver, whoever you are, thank you!

The Dimunitive AGAIN

2007-02-24T15:56:00.000+01:00

What can I say? I'm fascinated.

A have a few friends whose names end in -ke. I learned last week that this is another version of the dimunitive. So little Mary is Maria-ke, or shortened to Marike. Cute, I think.

Even cuter, though, are when Dutch people (usually men who stand at 7 feet something at least) call Rebecca, "Rebeccatje". Yes, it really happens, and I love it. Somehow Bethje or Bethke don't have the same ring to it...

Hmmm....

2007-02-20T15:45:00.001+01:00

After reading this, tell me what you think...

Unexpected Answers

2007-02-20T15:39:00.000+01:00

This explains it.

Yes, They Really Do Wear Them

2007-02-20T00:45:00.000+01:00

They are called klompen here, not clogs or wooden shoes. Both make sense: people go klomp when they wear wooden shoes. Yesterday as we entered the shared entryway to our home, we saw two pairs of adult klompen and three pairs of children's galoshes, all recently used.