AUTUMN-WINTER 1995-1996

"The mysterious traveler finds her roots in Mittle Europe, romantic black capes and coats worn inside out revealing the beauty of the inner surface, skirts with horsehair underskirts, bustles, jackets slit open over the bare skin of the back, slightly provocative."

You're not dumb, you're just not Dutch.

Pancakes. Glorious dutch pannekoek. How I love you. How I loathe you. Your delicious strength, plains of kaas and streams of bitter sukaar. My tummy fills with goodness while my thighs run in dispair.

Hup Holland!

[Even though the NL is out.]
Football is full of: yellow cards, red cards, headbutts and cute boys.

Patrick Swaize in Europe

Antwerp is dirty. But it has good vintage shops, which I guess sometimes go hand in hand. I get off the train and immediately find myself in the zoo. How does this happen? I never paid to see this elephant. Aren't animals scared of roaring locomotives?

I spend the night here but get no sleep. The german backpackers are heavy footed and serenade Belgium with renditions of Dirty Dancing.

Dag Vandag!

A young man approaches me on the street, brisk and enthusiastic, with a clipboard in his hands. I wait patiently as he sputters his schpiel in Dutch, then the usual: "Sorry," and a point to my mouth, "English only." He nods but is not listening to details. "English and what?" he says, not grasping my cues: darting eyes and shifting feet. "English only," I repeat. He nods again. "British?" I laugh. "No, American." He smiles now. "Ah, America," he says in a sing-song voice. He clutches his clipboard to his chest, his eyes slightly gazing. "I have family there you know," he continues. "Florida...or Iowa. Where are you from?" "Texas," I respond. Time is lost but I don't care anymore. He faces me now, his eyes narrowing. "Then how come I don't hear your cowgirl accent?" he says, his own voice thick and his smile sly. On some of us it is lost, I think, so I just shrug and back away.

Today I went to Amsterdam

So far we have been living in Den Haag, a town not too far from Amsterdam. Saturdays are my day off, so I decided to make a trip into town. I heard five languages on the tram ride, plus three different English speaking accents. I've noticed that even coughs and throat clears have an accent to them. The Austrailian guy kept coughing and I kept thinking, blessed kangaroo, even his hack sounds Austrailian.

Amsterdam is crowded: full of tourists and birds and boats, busy and compact with a lazy cafe undertone. I like Amsterdam enough but I fear it is losing its European romance, the charm that all cities with rivers, twinkling lights and pedestrian-only streets seem to posses. I wonder if the city sighs with relief after all the tourists have gone and the local old men with their rolled cigarettes and nightcaps can finally have some peace and quiet by the canals and the tulip shops. I wonder if it finally feels beautiful then.

dutch TV

Jimmy Nuetron in Dutch and the British cooking channel and the Simpsons and the Simpsons again, National Geographic and German MTV, the Netherlands news and many "datelines" Dutch style, the unrated version of American Pie and finally -- BBC's answer to Dancing with the Stars.

me time is tea time

Right now I am sitting in a dimly lit and smoke filled pub, seat awkwardly at the bar stool, my laptop open and exposed to my Gmail account next to a plate of mystery meat on a skewer which I thought would be a chicken breast upon ordering. Nevertheless it is tasty, although I am always nervous I will be the butt of some bad European joke.
I feel disconnected without the Internet, email, phone and wondered aimlessly, finally stumbling upon a sign that boasted FREE WIRELESS INTERNET! To my surprise, this is a bar, not some quaint cafe that sells homemade cakes and sandwiches, but I was too buy gaping at the naked man/woman mural to notice the smiley owner who asked more than once if I needed assistance. "How much is your internet?" I blurted. The only English sign in town and I screw it up.
The bartender is cross eyed and doesn't speak much English. He handed me my "culinary tools" and is standing right now behind the bar and to my left. I can't figure out if he is trying to stare or catch my attention or be observant, or finally if his crossed eyes are just a confusion for me.

The bartenders just asked me if they said "Hairy each other" or "carry each other" (in the song One Love by U2). :)!

HOLLAND

word of the day: DAG - hello/goodbye.
'G' is not said like an English 'g' (eg:dog) but with a hacking, fur-ball stuck in your throat type of noise.
"Dag Liesl!" -Austin