Nou, the Ukraine meisje echt knock me out, zij vertreekt de west behind...
Well, I arrived back in D.C. / D.C. area vorige week woensdag 16 december, and it was a hearty trip. 2 rolling suitcases filled with gifts and books; one backpack laden with all the most heavy, most fragile, and most necessary things; and one softcase guitarcase (with a lightweight guitar inside), and some books in its outer pocket. I didn't know how I was going to manage, but a BFF from Amsterdam walked me to Centraal Station and hung around while I got my ticket, then lugged one of those ridiculous suitcases up some stairs to the platform--because my train was coming at the only spoor without an escalator. She brought a suitcase and the guitar (on her back) down 3 flights of stairs, too, in my building. We just about froze in the walk to the station, but she set me up on the train and then we said our adieus! Luckily she's going to roadtrip it up to see me, because she's from the New England issssshhhh area.
On the train, I met a nice Dutchperson who was quiet and I thought wouldn't want to talk, but in her quiet, even shy and slow-speaking way, you could tell that wasn't so--because she kept starting conversations. We talked about speaking Dutch, and how she's a nurse and is studying to work on ambulances, and how in the world stretchers can possibly work on those narrow vertical Dutch staircases (special shoes and bungee cords). Then she had to get off because it was her stop, and at the same stop another person (een andere mens) who was to become my friend entered. I cleared off the spot where the previous friend had sat, and he thanked me and sat there. He was from Sierra Leone and has lived in the Netherlands for 10 years, and been learning Dutch for the past 6 years, and is still taking classes. He turned out to be an airport security guard at Schiphol, where I was going. When we neared the airport, he asked how much luggage I had, since I had been living here, and when he saw my things, he picked them up, exited the train, plopped them down on a trolley, took me up on an elevator, pointed me in the right direction, shook my hand, and said goodbye. It was such a luck of fortune. I don't know how else I would have managed.
My guitar was able to enter the first plane, thankfully, and on the second, it was put below with everyone else's carry-on (tiny shuttle planes have no cabin space!), and came out undamaged. Also: both my suitcases turned out to be WAY underweight! Around 2/3 of what each could have been. So. I felt less bad about wearing my friend's and my arms out, because, you know, it turned out to be not as bad as it could have been! :) Just kidding. It was very nice that she, my friend from the U.S., walked me to the station.
Also, the night after I left Amsterdam, it snowed. They say it hasn't snowed in years in Amsterdam, and it snowed this year, that day. My housemates were all outside in it, having snowball fights, taking pictures, meandering. Apparently it was beautiful. The pictures sure make it look that way.
By my parents' house there have been 20ish inches of snow, and everything shut down for a while! It's pretty, but we're supposed to get a wintery mix / sleet soon.
Love. Groetjes! Goed Zegeningen! xo
woensdag 23 december 2009
zaterdag 12 december 2009
Conversations in Dutch
Vandag ik ging naar Muiden en zijn Muiderslot kasteel met een goed vriend.
En!!! Twee UITSTEKEND dingen gebeurde! Twee!
Met twee verschillende mensen, ik sprak Nederlands...in volledig conversaties. Twee!
Okay, so what that means is: today, I went to Muiden and its castle with a good friend of mine, and I had TWO whole amazing conversations with two different Dutch people, speaking Dutch! Geen Engels! Seriously.
Like so: My friend and I are leaving the castle, and we're walking back to the busstop to use our strippenkaart and take it back to Amstel, and to walk from there. And as we're leaving, we run into a little outdoor market we had discovered on our way toward the castle, and it ran until 5pm, so we decided to come back afterward (so we could catch the castle in the light, and not feel time-constrained). They had hot cider (FIRST cider we've seen in the Netherlands) and crepes and pestos and breads...and musicians and antiques and winter plants and children's crafts and toys and candles and beads and Christmas decorations and hats and scarves and all sorts of things! Lots of fun. And so then we go in and buy some things, and she gets a crepe, and we're oogling over the food and we eat samples and are tempted to buy some fresh cocoa and then, we're leaving and the Sun is firey blood red brilliant piercing rays of blinding, and they're everywhere and it's beautiful, and it makes the graffiti under the overpass by the busstop literally shimmer and shine and it's like firey moonlight on water, the way it reflects soooo so brightly.
And then a Dutch person is walking toward us with a stroller and two kids outside of the stroller (one in), and we are about the cross the cute little bridge by the cute little outlying Muiden houses, and she says to me:
(these conversations all happen really quickly, by the way!!!)
'Mag ik jou een vragen?' (May I ask you a question?) She is smiling and her eyes are so nice.
I say, 'Ja! Okee.' (Yes! Okay.)
Haar: 'Waar is het Muidenmarkt? Ik vind het niet.' (Where is the Muiden market? I can't find it.)
Ik: (pointing) 'Het is...daar.' (It's over there.)
Haar: 'Maar het markt...niet de Muiden winkels.' (But the market...not the stores in Muiden.)
I'm agreeing at first: Ja, ja. But when she's adamant we're talking about different things, I say:
Ik: 'It weet het niet.' (I don't know.)
Haar: 'O...ja, ik wil naar het Muidenmarkt gaan.' (Oh...yeah, I want to go to the Muiden market.)
She begins to move away.
Ik: 'Het buiden markt? Het is rechtdoor.' (The outdoor market? It's straight ahead!)
I point where I pointed before, where she hadn't believed me--she had thought I was speaking about the wrong thing.
Haar: 'O! O...ik zie het! Dank je wel!' (Oh...oh, I see! Thank you very much!) Her smile lights up her face with kindness and friendliness and gratitude, and it's a great feeling inside. It's an out-reaching smile, and it makes me glad we spoke.
A Dutch person stopped me and asked me for directions...and beamed when she knew where I was talking about, and thanked me.
A Dutch person stopped and asked me for directions...in Dutch.
Second story:
My friend and I need to take the bus back to Amstel, and we know the stop where we got off--but obviously if we got on the same bus, it would just continue to take us further along the line, and not back in the opposite direction; the direction from which we came.
So. I see someone standing in a busstop (a different one from the one we exited at, but next to it), and I approach. I consider asking if ze speaks English, but decide that's a silly question (ended up not being so silly).
Ik: 'Sorry...where is the busstop that will take us to Amstel?' (I say 'sorry' and 'Amstel' with a Dutch accent.)
Haar: 'You want the busstop for Amstel?'
Ik: 'Ja.'
Haar: 'O...' (She turns around and reads a sign listing all the busses at that stop & their destinations.) 'Een honderd zeven en vijftig gaat naar Amstel.' (157 goes to Amstel.)
Ik: 'Okee, okee.'
Haar: 'Ja...' (She continues to read and is speaking to me the whole time. She's talking about where they go, the different busses.)
Ik: 'Kan ik hier wachten?' (Can I wait here?)
Haar: (she's clearly confused) 'Ja, hier misschien. Een honderd zeven en vijftig stopt hier.' (Yeah, maybe here. 157 stops here.)
Then she indicates toward a busstop or two that are a block-ish away, on the other side of the parking lot we're next to, and says some other things.
Ik: 'O, het bus komt daar?' (Oh, the bus comes over there?)
She says some more things. I catch the word 'hier' (here).
Ik: 'Hier?'
Haar: 'Ja.' (She nods.)
Ik: 'Maar...het bus kunt hier niet stoppen...het busses naar Amstel zijn...' (But...the bus can't stop here...the busses toward Amstel are...)
I don't know the Dutch words for what follows, so I indicate with my hands:
'On the other side of the street.'
Haar: 'Ik weet it niet. Hier of daar...' (I don't know. Here or there...)
She makes a helpless hand gesture--*this is one important thing about the Dutch that differs from Americans. They will keep talking to you until they help you, even if the problem is not likely to be resolved in the near future. I love it, because it shows their interest and genuine care*
Ik: 'Okee, okee. Ja. Ja, ik ga daar; ik probeer daar. Dank je wel!' (Okay, okay. Yeah, I'm going to go try over there. Thank you very much!)
She keeps talking to me.
Ik: 'Ik probeer.' (I shrug, like it's no big deal.) 'Dank je wel!'
She says some more things I don't understand, but she's earnest, and I think, she must think--geez, this ridiculous person, why can't they understand anything I'm saying? This person isn't getting it at all! But, I'm understanding what I can understand, and the parts I'm picking up on tell me she's not sure which stop, but one of them should work. She must be aggravated inside, but she wants to help still.
Ik: 'Okee, okee. Dank je wel!'
Frustrating but exciting conversation! And she pointed out the other stops. My friend says she's glad she has me with her, because she'd have no idea what was just said, or earlier with the other Dutch person :) Big compliment. It meant a lot!
My friend and I head toward the other stops. One of them is perfect, and a bus comes in the next 5-10 minutes, and it goes perfect right to Amstel.
Also, we went to a castle, like I said. This time, unlike the ill-fated time I attempted to direct my parents toward De Haar castle in Vlueten outside Utrecht, it went according to plans! We go to Amstel, pick up the bus as we arrive--just as my notes said we should (right bus, right direction)--it takes 2 zones and 15-20 minutes to get there. We get off and Muiden is SPECTACULAR. Like every other place (except Vleuten) I've been in the Netherlands, I plan on living there. Also, I've found the perfect house for myself. Some old people live there now. It's nautical and cute. Anyway. And we go to the castle, and it's open, and there are pamphlets in Engels, and we go in, and there are gardens, and oh, well it's lovely, and it's cute inside. Small, and lots of little costumed children running around everywhere, beating each other up for other small children (the 'girls'). Beautiful sky. Sometimes it looked like there was zero atmosphere, it just felt so...empty, naked free, spaceless. There was a particular tree that, the way it was situated and right against this perfect sky, it looked so...spaceless. Like there was a vacuum around it, like it was inside zero air, zero anything. It looked like it occupied...just, an alien space. It was amazing, crazy amazing! I also spoke Dutch to some other people.
Those are my stories.
Love,
Miranda.
p.s.
En!!! Twee UITSTEKEND dingen gebeurde! Twee!
Met twee verschillende mensen, ik sprak Nederlands...in volledig conversaties. Twee!
Okay, so what that means is: today, I went to Muiden and its castle with a good friend of mine, and I had TWO whole amazing conversations with two different Dutch people, speaking Dutch! Geen Engels! Seriously.
Like so: My friend and I are leaving the castle, and we're walking back to the busstop to use our strippenkaart and take it back to Amstel, and to walk from there. And as we're leaving, we run into a little outdoor market we had discovered on our way toward the castle, and it ran until 5pm, so we decided to come back afterward (so we could catch the castle in the light, and not feel time-constrained). They had hot cider (FIRST cider we've seen in the Netherlands) and crepes and pestos and breads...and musicians and antiques and winter plants and children's crafts and toys and candles and beads and Christmas decorations and hats and scarves and all sorts of things! Lots of fun. And so then we go in and buy some things, and she gets a crepe, and we're oogling over the food and we eat samples and are tempted to buy some fresh cocoa and then, we're leaving and the Sun is firey blood red brilliant piercing rays of blinding, and they're everywhere and it's beautiful, and it makes the graffiti under the overpass by the busstop literally shimmer and shine and it's like firey moonlight on water, the way it reflects soooo so brightly.
Op het Muidenmarkt
And then a Dutch person is walking toward us with a stroller and two kids outside of the stroller (one in), and we are about the cross the cute little bridge by the cute little outlying Muiden houses, and she says to me:
(these conversations all happen really quickly, by the way!!!)
'Mag ik jou een vragen?' (May I ask you a question?) She is smiling and her eyes are so nice.
I say, 'Ja! Okee.' (Yes! Okay.)
Haar: 'Waar is het Muidenmarkt? Ik vind het niet.' (Where is the Muiden market? I can't find it.)
Ik: (pointing) 'Het is...daar.' (It's over there.)
Haar: 'Maar het markt...niet de Muiden winkels.' (But the market...not the stores in Muiden.)
I'm agreeing at first: Ja, ja. But when she's adamant we're talking about different things, I say:
Ik: 'It weet het niet.' (I don't know.)
Haar: 'O...ja, ik wil naar het Muidenmarkt gaan.' (Oh...yeah, I want to go to the Muiden market.)
She begins to move away.
Ik: 'Het buiden markt? Het is rechtdoor.' (The outdoor market? It's straight ahead!)
I point where I pointed before, where she hadn't believed me--she had thought I was speaking about the wrong thing.
Haar: 'O! O...ik zie het! Dank je wel!' (Oh...oh, I see! Thank you very much!) Her smile lights up her face with kindness and friendliness and gratitude, and it's a great feeling inside. It's an out-reaching smile, and it makes me glad we spoke.
A Dutch person stopped me and asked me for directions...and beamed when she knew where I was talking about, and thanked me.
A Dutch person stopped and asked me for directions...in Dutch.
Het kasteel van de tuinen
Second story:
My friend and I need to take the bus back to Amstel, and we know the stop where we got off--but obviously if we got on the same bus, it would just continue to take us further along the line, and not back in the opposite direction; the direction from which we came.
So. I see someone standing in a busstop (a different one from the one we exited at, but next to it), and I approach. I consider asking if ze speaks English, but decide that's a silly question (ended up not being so silly).
Ik: 'Sorry...where is the busstop that will take us to Amstel?' (I say 'sorry' and 'Amstel' with a Dutch accent.)
Haar: 'You want the busstop for Amstel?'
Ik: 'Ja.'
Haar: 'O...' (She turns around and reads a sign listing all the busses at that stop & their destinations.) 'Een honderd zeven en vijftig gaat naar Amstel.' (157 goes to Amstel.)
Ik: 'Okee, okee.'
Haar: 'Ja...' (She continues to read and is speaking to me the whole time. She's talking about where they go, the different busses.)
Ik: 'Kan ik hier wachten?' (Can I wait here?)
Haar: (she's clearly confused) 'Ja, hier misschien. Een honderd zeven en vijftig stopt hier.' (Yeah, maybe here. 157 stops here.)
Then she indicates toward a busstop or two that are a block-ish away, on the other side of the parking lot we're next to, and says some other things.
Ik: 'O, het bus komt daar?' (Oh, the bus comes over there?)
She says some more things. I catch the word 'hier' (here).
Ik: 'Hier?'
Haar: 'Ja.' (She nods.)
Ik: 'Maar...het bus kunt hier niet stoppen...het busses naar Amstel zijn...' (But...the bus can't stop here...the busses toward Amstel are...)
I don't know the Dutch words for what follows, so I indicate with my hands:
'On the other side of the street.'
Haar: 'Ik weet it niet. Hier of daar...' (I don't know. Here or there...)
She makes a helpless hand gesture--*this is one important thing about the Dutch that differs from Americans. They will keep talking to you until they help you, even if the problem is not likely to be resolved in the near future. I love it, because it shows their interest and genuine care*
Ik: 'Okee, okee. Ja. Ja, ik ga daar; ik probeer daar. Dank je wel!' (Okay, okay. Yeah, I'm going to go try over there. Thank you very much!)
She keeps talking to me.
Ik: 'Ik probeer.' (I shrug, like it's no big deal.) 'Dank je wel!'
She says some more things I don't understand, but she's earnest, and I think, she must think--geez, this ridiculous person, why can't they understand anything I'm saying? This person isn't getting it at all! But, I'm understanding what I can understand, and the parts I'm picking up on tell me she's not sure which stop, but one of them should work. She must be aggravated inside, but she wants to help still.
Ik: 'Okee, okee. Dank je wel!'
Frustrating but exciting conversation! And she pointed out the other stops. My friend says she's glad she has me with her, because she'd have no idea what was just said, or earlier with the other Dutch person :) Big compliment. It meant a lot!
My friend and I head toward the other stops. One of them is perfect, and a bus comes in the next 5-10 minutes, and it goes perfect right to Amstel.
Kasteel ingang
Also, we went to a castle, like I said. This time, unlike the ill-fated time I attempted to direct my parents toward De Haar castle in Vlueten outside Utrecht, it went according to plans! We go to Amstel, pick up the bus as we arrive--just as my notes said we should (right bus, right direction)--it takes 2 zones and 15-20 minutes to get there. We get off and Muiden is SPECTACULAR. Like every other place (except Vleuten) I've been in the Netherlands, I plan on living there. Also, I've found the perfect house for myself. Some old people live there now. It's nautical and cute. Anyway. And we go to the castle, and it's open, and there are pamphlets in Engels, and we go in, and there are gardens, and oh, well it's lovely, and it's cute inside. Small, and lots of little costumed children running around everywhere, beating each other up for other small children (the 'girls'). Beautiful sky. Sometimes it looked like there was zero atmosphere, it just felt so...empty, naked free, spaceless. There was a particular tree that, the way it was situated and right against this perfect sky, it looked so...spaceless. Like there was a vacuum around it, like it was inside zero air, zero anything. It looked like it occupied...just, an alien space. It was amazing, crazy amazing! I also spoke Dutch to some other people.
Little children fighting in costume & with swords!
Those are my stories.
Love,
Miranda.
p.s.
The castle as we're leaving
donderdag 3 december 2009
Protests in Amsterdam
This past Tuesday, I did something the Office of International Studies Director at my U.S. University said I should never do when studying abroad: I got involved in a political protest. The Netherlands recently passed a ban on squatting (a movement that was legalised in the 1970s: it's a protest against inefficient land usage in the Netherlands. There's a housing shortage, and yet some people own and hold on to property / houses without using them, leaving them vacant for upwards of a year, with no plans for improvement, &c., and without selling or renting out. So squatters were allowed to reclaim such places after a year of inactivity). However, the mayors of the Netherlands' four big cities (Utrecht, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Den Haag) have given public speeches saying they won't uphold the ban, &c.
Nonetheless, the squatters all over the Netherlands have been protesting the ban, and one of my closest friends here came over for hot cocoa, told me about it, and then we set out!
Right in front of the Royal Palace in Dam Square, 2 or 3 tents had been combined and covered in tarps to turn it into a miniature Royal Palace, with a Pirate Flag waving from the top (instead of the Royal crest). Someone was dressed up as Queen Beatrix, and people were carrying signs and torches (torches / candles...for realz). There were two loud-speakers attached to a rolling platform, and someone with a mic. Also, free (vegan) soup. My friend and I listened without understanding the speeches (something about learning lessons, living rights, and a few other tiny snippets I could catch). Then...we march! As we march, the crowd grows larger--my friend and I had been disappointed at first by what we thought was a relatively small (for the Netherlands, compared to Utrecht) gathering in Dam Square. Then again, it was a Tuesday night, and I wonder if the kind of people who would live in Amsterdam might be the more touristy, commercialised, materialistic type of people who become apathetic or distracted and wouldn't show up for a protest.
And, of course, the music via speakers was carried with us. Loud punk rock / death metal (obvi not the same thing, but both were present) blared and they rolled they speakers right along with all the marchers, armed with torches and candles, down Kalverstraat, down to Spui Centrum, then up Spuistraat back to Dam Square...where some anti-squatters got into an altercation with our protest movement, and the Police Calvary had to move in. The police had also stationed gigantic grey-painted box-looking vans all around the place, and some moved along with us. To me, they looked like a civilian European version of street tanks. My friend (from Sweden) agreed. She said, in Sweden they couldn't have those tanks out there because it would be considered provocative. When the police went in on their horses, I thought, for sure the police are beating the people--and I was thinking of my friends in Chicago at a radical queer conference, when the police began to beat them. My friend pulled me away, and I heard the loud-speakers wail: '...komt, alstublieft. ...komt, alstublieft' (basically, withdraw--come away, please).
We asked two people we found there what was happening, and they started to explain that this was a squatting rights protest, and we had to explain that we already knew--but what was happening with the shouting and apparent fighting? Were the police attacking? They looked at me strangely for asking that and laughed and said '...No. The police can't do that. They can't go in without a reason. They're breaking up a fight.' Strange world, no?
We got to talking in general, as all the squatters drew back to a big art squat back on Spuistraat. I wanted to follow them, but my friend didn't want to be arrested or for us to be in the midst of violence, should it break out again. The cool people we met started telling us how they were neighbours, how one of them, 6 years ago, had lived in a squat in the countryside with 3 guys. They were friendly with all the neighbours, had cake and tea with them, but there was one guy who didn't like them. The squat-guys all had cars, and she didn't, and one night all 3 were away and she was left home alone, and the creepy neighbour saw a light burning in her window, and thought to threaten and scare her away for good. So there's a knock at the door, she answers it...and there's the neighbour...WITH AN AXE.
I say, 'WHAT.'
She says she closed the door and went upstairs, and in the morning they found the axe in the door. It took all the squatters 2 hours to get it out.
I say, he sounds dangerous, and both people we're talking to look at me funny again and say, no, he wasn't actually going to hurt her. I say...he brought an axe to your door and showed it to your face and then jammed it into the front door when you closed it. They say, it was only a warning! I say, you must have a funny kind of warning system around here. I've never heard of a warning like that before.
Strange world, again.
Apparently everything got along fine after that, because all the other neighbours were supportive of the squat and reassured them that there was nothing to fear: all the neighbours would stick up for them if it came to that. They shouldn't be worried in the future.
Then it came out somehow from the former-squatter that it was a Full Moon that day (true: in restless, communicative Gemini), and I say: '!!!! And Uranus just went direct!' And then the two people and I go on about how, oh goodness, how this is the PERFECT night for the protest we're having! (Uranus is the ruling planet of Aquarius--it's the planet of revolution, transformation, &c.) SWEET.
It's also revealed that somewhere around 20-30 of the people in the protest are undercover cops. Our new friends recognise them as neighbours, plus by their shoes.
Also, apparently, people throughout the Netherlands can't understand each other because of the presence of around 230 different dialects (ranging from German, French, and Flemish-influenced), despite the fact that it's a tiny country. The medieval history of isolation in tiny villages is pronounced the source.
Other things I hope to someday update you about:
Love,
Me
Nonetheless, the squatters all over the Netherlands have been protesting the ban, and one of my closest friends here came over for hot cocoa, told me about it, and then we set out!
Right in front of the Royal Palace in Dam Square, 2 or 3 tents had been combined and covered in tarps to turn it into a miniature Royal Palace, with a Pirate Flag waving from the top (instead of the Royal crest). Someone was dressed up as Queen Beatrix, and people were carrying signs and torches (torches / candles...for realz). There were two loud-speakers attached to a rolling platform, and someone with a mic. Also, free (vegan) soup. My friend and I listened without understanding the speeches (something about learning lessons, living rights, and a few other tiny snippets I could catch). Then...we march! As we march, the crowd grows larger--my friend and I had been disappointed at first by what we thought was a relatively small (for the Netherlands, compared to Utrecht) gathering in Dam Square. Then again, it was a Tuesday night, and I wonder if the kind of people who would live in Amsterdam might be the more touristy, commercialised, materialistic type of people who become apathetic or distracted and wouldn't show up for a protest.
And, of course, the music via speakers was carried with us. Loud punk rock / death metal (obvi not the same thing, but both were present) blared and they rolled they speakers right along with all the marchers, armed with torches and candles, down Kalverstraat, down to Spui Centrum, then up Spuistraat back to Dam Square...where some anti-squatters got into an altercation with our protest movement, and the Police Calvary had to move in. The police had also stationed gigantic grey-painted box-looking vans all around the place, and some moved along with us. To me, they looked like a civilian European version of street tanks. My friend (from Sweden) agreed. She said, in Sweden they couldn't have those tanks out there because it would be considered provocative. When the police went in on their horses, I thought, for sure the police are beating the people--and I was thinking of my friends in Chicago at a radical queer conference, when the police began to beat them. My friend pulled me away, and I heard the loud-speakers wail: '...komt, alstublieft. ...komt, alstublieft' (basically, withdraw--come away, please).
We asked two people we found there what was happening, and they started to explain that this was a squatting rights protest, and we had to explain that we already knew--but what was happening with the shouting and apparent fighting? Were the police attacking? They looked at me strangely for asking that and laughed and said '...No. The police can't do that. They can't go in without a reason. They're breaking up a fight.' Strange world, no?
We got to talking in general, as all the squatters drew back to a big art squat back on Spuistraat. I wanted to follow them, but my friend didn't want to be arrested or for us to be in the midst of violence, should it break out again. The cool people we met started telling us how they were neighbours, how one of them, 6 years ago, had lived in a squat in the countryside with 3 guys. They were friendly with all the neighbours, had cake and tea with them, but there was one guy who didn't like them. The squat-guys all had cars, and she didn't, and one night all 3 were away and she was left home alone, and the creepy neighbour saw a light burning in her window, and thought to threaten and scare her away for good. So there's a knock at the door, she answers it...and there's the neighbour...WITH AN AXE.
I say, 'WHAT.'
She says she closed the door and went upstairs, and in the morning they found the axe in the door. It took all the squatters 2 hours to get it out.
I say, he sounds dangerous, and both people we're talking to look at me funny again and say, no, he wasn't actually going to hurt her. I say...he brought an axe to your door and showed it to your face and then jammed it into the front door when you closed it. They say, it was only a warning! I say, you must have a funny kind of warning system around here. I've never heard of a warning like that before.
Strange world, again.
Apparently everything got along fine after that, because all the other neighbours were supportive of the squat and reassured them that there was nothing to fear: all the neighbours would stick up for them if it came to that. They shouldn't be worried in the future.
Then it came out somehow from the former-squatter that it was a Full Moon that day (true: in restless, communicative Gemini), and I say: '!!!! And Uranus just went direct!' And then the two people and I go on about how, oh goodness, how this is the PERFECT night for the protest we're having! (Uranus is the ruling planet of Aquarius--it's the planet of revolution, transformation, &c.) SWEET.
It's also revealed that somewhere around 20-30 of the people in the protest are undercover cops. Our new friends recognise them as neighbours, plus by their shoes.
Also, apparently, people throughout the Netherlands can't understand each other because of the presence of around 230 different dialects (ranging from German, French, and Flemish-influenced), despite the fact that it's a tiny country. The medieval history of isolation in tiny villages is pronounced the source.
Other things I hope to someday update you about:
- mijn reis naar Stockholm vorig weekend
- Sinterklaas: parties, RAs, gifts, treats, traditions I love, poems
- buying a Dutch Harry Potter book in Dutch
- apartment preparations for Christmas
Love,
Me
Abonneren op:
Posts (Atom)