The ancient Dutch man who teaches my Monday yoga class said that you can't pretend to understand anything unless you are able to stand on your head and see everything upside down.
After that revelation, things are making more sense.
P.S. There probably won't be more updates before I leave for the Grand Italian Adventure on Saturday. Expect the epic post of epic posts. And many, many pictures. Be back on the 3rd.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
To market, to market
After a long, hard week of partying and reading for class (my life is SO difficult), Rebecca and Jaclyn and I decided to hit up the weekly open-air market in the center of town.
At this bakery stand, we got fresh slagroom croissants--kind of like the Dutch version of cannoli. Nothing like a healthy breakfast.
It's so nice to see some blue sky again after a few days of snow/sleet/rain/hail/general meteorological misery.
The market could best be described as a teeny version of Rice's. (If you're not from Bucks County, just disregard that comment.) There was lots of cheap produce (I picked up a kilo of Pink Lady apples, an avocado, and some red peppers for just about 4 euro...yessss), abundant fried food, sausage and cheese stands, knockoff purses, pashminas galore, and the requisite racks of strange European fashion.
Deciding between two similar styles of 15-euro coats:
And the winner is...
Then we got some magnificent hot chocolate (and much-needed defrosting time) at the Blue Hand Pub in the town square. It's served complete with hot milk, dark chocolate chunks, and coffee liqueur. FYI: the Blue Hand--or more accurately, In de Blaauwe Hand--is one of the oldest pubs in Europe. It's been serving up brews since the mid-16th century. Nice. Lots of gorgeous dark wood and stained glass...expect pictures at some point.
At home, there's no time to do stuff like this--to explore and wander and have two-hour dinners with friends. It's good that I'm finally starting to take advantage of it.
P.S. I hate pretty much all things Valentine's Day, but in the spirit of the thing: someone in the Netherlands loves you!
At this bakery stand, we got fresh slagroom croissants--kind of like the Dutch version of cannoli. Nothing like a healthy breakfast.
It's so nice to see some blue sky again after a few days of snow/sleet/rain/hail/general meteorological misery.
The market could best be described as a teeny version of Rice's. (If you're not from Bucks County, just disregard that comment.) There was lots of cheap produce (I picked up a kilo of Pink Lady apples, an avocado, and some red peppers for just about 4 euro...yessss), abundant fried food, sausage and cheese stands, knockoff purses, pashminas galore, and the requisite racks of strange European fashion.Deciding between two similar styles of 15-euro coats:
And the winner is...
Then we got some magnificent hot chocolate (and much-needed defrosting time) at the Blue Hand Pub in the town square. It's served complete with hot milk, dark chocolate chunks, and coffee liqueur. FYI: the Blue Hand--or more accurately, In de Blaauwe Hand--is one of the oldest pubs in Europe. It's been serving up brews since the mid-16th century. Nice. Lots of gorgeous dark wood and stained glass...expect pictures at some point.
At home, there's no time to do stuff like this--to explore and wander and have two-hour dinners with friends. It's good that I'm finally starting to take advantage of it.
P.S. I hate pretty much all things Valentine's Day, but in the spirit of the thing: someone in the Netherlands loves you!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Three weeks in
Tomorrow marks my third full week of living in Nijmegen. Classes are in order. (Minimal) work is there to be done. I'm finding my way around. Trips are planned. Parties are...constant. I have met some great people from interesting places and I have a regular group of friends. And now I sit at my desk with my mug of tea and...well, there is nothing else to do.
We had a roommate meeting and bonding session tonight, complete with pizza and some kind of party game. I only stayed for the pizza. I felt so incredibly out of my element, surrounded by 10 or 12 people laughing at jokes in a language I can't even begin to understand, that I felt sick to my stomach and just couldn't stay there a second longer. I'm trying to beat it, but culture shock is a tenacious little creature.
Twenty-one days in Nijmegen (and twenty-seven in Europe!), and I still don't know where I am when I wake up in the morning. The time has flown: not because my time here thus far has been all rose petals and sunshine and cute Facebook pictures, but because every day is like learning how to function all over again. You need to block out hours for things as mundane as making copies of documents for class. I feel like a toddler. Maybe that's too extreme...okay, I feel like a freshman. Yuck.
I'm also in the midst of applying for my Dutch residence permit, which is a vastly less complicated process than any of the pre-departure emails would have you believe. I keep putting it off, though. Making it official that I'm a legal resident of the Netherlands is a daunting prospect. It's taking a deep breath and putting all the cards on the table and saying "okay, let's just freakin' do this."
"Sweet Caroline" just came up on my iTunes. Just what I needed. I can't wait to see Matt and the chorale kids in just over two weeks. I miss life at BC so much. I miss wasting hours in the green room. I miss the challenge of balancing class and 4B and theater and VagMons and ASTEP and the multitude of little things that crop up in the margins, and I miss feeling worthwhile because of that challenge. I'm missing all this cool activism that's happening with Women's Health Initiative and sexual health amendments. And Lupe Fiasco, apparently. I miss SINGING! I miss having a place to sing. I miss walking around and seeing people I know and knowing that they're part of me and I'm part of them. You don't get that feeling here. School spirit doesn't exist. You go to class and you go home. In America, your college is part of your identity. Here, it's just something you do.
Off topic, but nonetheless relevant: Skype is the greatest invention. Ever. I can't even wrap my mind around how I can talk to--and SEE--someone thousands of miles away on a 6-hour time difference...in real time. Straight trippin', yo.
I'm going to go back out there and attempt to bond with my roommates again. Wish me luck...
Sunday, February 8, 2009
"Hey guys, let's bike to Germany."
One of the upsides to being absolutely uncommitted after class: deciding on a whim to bike to another country.
It was about 45 degrees (obviously Fahrenheit) and the sun was just about to set. Seven of us internationals planned a 15-20 km. route through the village of Berg en Dal, hoping to cross the border into Germany and go north for a little bit, then head back west to Nijmegen.
These pictures don't quite do justice to the sunset we caught just outside Berg en Dal, but I hope they give some idea:
And then we arrived in Germany!
And we saw a German gas station! And a German pasture with assorted German cows! And then we turned around.
Nijmegen and its environs are known as being extremely hilly areas (read: not completely and utterly flat). As we whizzed down Berg en Dalseweg on the way out, it looked as if it would be a heck of a climb back up. Little did we know what a climb it would be. God, am I going to have great legs by the time July rolls around.
Italy is booked! Venice for two days, Florence for three, and Roma for four. If you have any suggestions as to what we should do/see, please let me know...I am so overwhelmed by the amount of fantastic art and monuments and ruins and canals out there that I simply can't decide where my touristy priorities should lie.
As for more mundane news, class registration continues to be a disaster. I will be so grateful to return to the normalcy of BC UIS, where at the end of the day, even if they're not the classes you hoped for, you're at least getting credit for something.
And perhaps this seems mundane as well, but I'm actually pretty proud: I went on a 4.5-mile run this afternoon and didn't get lost once.
Time for bed. A big day of grocery shopping, itinerary-creating, important-government-form-submitting, and copying awaits.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Waiting on the world to change.
Class has finally begun. Praise Jesus and pass the espresso.
Classes are an hour and forty-five minutes long and meet once a week, which is pretty freakin' bizarre after all the class we have to attend at BC. There's also a break in the middle, which many people use to go to one of the numerous vending/coffee/tea machines in the halls of the Erasmusgebouw (20-story main academic building). The teacher usually begins two to five minutes early and it is completely unacceptable to waltz in late. Everyone takes absolutely immaculate notes and I think I may still be high from all the Wite-Out that was used in yesterday's class.
So far, I've attended French Culture in the 20th and 21st Centuries (which should...suck) and 19th Century American Literature, which is taught by an awkward American prof from Purdue who seemed extraordinarily relieved to see Americans. I stayed after class with my friend Rosa and talked to this guy, who is on a Fulbright and uprooted his whole family and life to come here. It's good to know that this transition's hard for everyone, regardless of age.
Just got back from my Multiculturalism in North America class, which is an American Studies course in two parts. It seems like it's going to be awesome--lots of reading and discussion and documentary and photo viewing. It's structured a lot like the Am Stud classes at BC, so I think it'll be awesome.
I'm writing today mostly as a reflection on that class. We watched a BBC documentary that explored the meaning of being American throughout the nation's history, and frankly, it was embarrassing. Cue footage of a volunteer border patrol, comprised of 10 to 15 Texas rednecks who get their thrills by reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and going through the streets physically and verbally threatening anyone who looks like they might be illegal. "They're bringing foreign diseases into our country," exclaimed one prim little Southern belle. There were also lengthy segments on human rights violations during the Spanish-American war, the Chinese Exclusion Act, Japanese internment camps, and "cultural inspectors" hired by Ford to force assimilation.
You could tell that Rosa and I were the only Americans in the class by the way we covered our eyes and slumped in our seats. The documentary was shown in six-minute chunks and was paused after each for brief reflection, which was basically spent staring aghast at said Americans.
Luckily, we finished up with some exploding fireworks and waving flags and general DNC footage. Whew--dodged that bullet. Everyone here believes in Obama perhaps even more strongly than most Americans do, and it scares me. I obviously love the prez as much as the next flower-garland-making, bike-riding, French-speaking, moss-kissing flaming liberal, but I'm terrified that when he doesn't live up to the ginormous expectations that the world (and the Bush legacy) has left for him, everyone's going to turn on us.
Change is happening, but a lot of things are changing for the worse--things I never see over here. If what I hear from home and friends is true, businesses are shuttering, parents are losing their jobs, BC tuition is looking impossible to pay, and what really breaks my heart is that PA is canceling the Governor's Schools. I feel groundless right now. Like I've bounced as high as I could on a trampoline and when I wasn't paying attention, someone grabbed it out from under me and I'm just watching the ground approach and preparing for the shock of landing. (Too poetic. I know. Sorry.) I don't know where the US is going, and I'm too far away to even have an idea.
And as a big "screw you" to the realities of recession (and my rapidly shrinking bank account), a few of us are planning a 9-day adventure to Venice, Florence, and Rome at the end of February. Stay tuned for details.
Classes are an hour and forty-five minutes long and meet once a week, which is pretty freakin' bizarre after all the class we have to attend at BC. There's also a break in the middle, which many people use to go to one of the numerous vending/coffee/tea machines in the halls of the Erasmusgebouw (20-story main academic building). The teacher usually begins two to five minutes early and it is completely unacceptable to waltz in late. Everyone takes absolutely immaculate notes and I think I may still be high from all the Wite-Out that was used in yesterday's class.
So far, I've attended French Culture in the 20th and 21st Centuries (which should...suck) and 19th Century American Literature, which is taught by an awkward American prof from Purdue who seemed extraordinarily relieved to see Americans. I stayed after class with my friend Rosa and talked to this guy, who is on a Fulbright and uprooted his whole family and life to come here. It's good to know that this transition's hard for everyone, regardless of age.
Just got back from my Multiculturalism in North America class, which is an American Studies course in two parts. It seems like it's going to be awesome--lots of reading and discussion and documentary and photo viewing. It's structured a lot like the Am Stud classes at BC, so I think it'll be awesome.
I'm writing today mostly as a reflection on that class. We watched a BBC documentary that explored the meaning of being American throughout the nation's history, and frankly, it was embarrassing. Cue footage of a volunteer border patrol, comprised of 10 to 15 Texas rednecks who get their thrills by reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and going through the streets physically and verbally threatening anyone who looks like they might be illegal. "They're bringing foreign diseases into our country," exclaimed one prim little Southern belle. There were also lengthy segments on human rights violations during the Spanish-American war, the Chinese Exclusion Act, Japanese internment camps, and "cultural inspectors" hired by Ford to force assimilation.
You could tell that Rosa and I were the only Americans in the class by the way we covered our eyes and slumped in our seats. The documentary was shown in six-minute chunks and was paused after each for brief reflection, which was basically spent staring aghast at said Americans.
Luckily, we finished up with some exploding fireworks and waving flags and general DNC footage. Whew--dodged that bullet. Everyone here believes in Obama perhaps even more strongly than most Americans do, and it scares me. I obviously love the prez as much as the next flower-garland-making, bike-riding, French-speaking, moss-kissing flaming liberal, but I'm terrified that when he doesn't live up to the ginormous expectations that the world (and the Bush legacy) has left for him, everyone's going to turn on us.
Change is happening, but a lot of things are changing for the worse--things I never see over here. If what I hear from home and friends is true, businesses are shuttering, parents are losing their jobs, BC tuition is looking impossible to pay, and what really breaks my heart is that PA is canceling the Governor's Schools. I feel groundless right now. Like I've bounced as high as I could on a trampoline and when I wasn't paying attention, someone grabbed it out from under me and I'm just watching the ground approach and preparing for the shock of landing. (Too poetic. I know. Sorry.) I don't know where the US is going, and I'm too far away to even have an idea.
And as a big "screw you" to the realities of recession (and my rapidly shrinking bank account), a few of us are planning a 9-day adventure to Venice, Florence, and Rome at the end of February. Stay tuned for details.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Orientation week and Amsterdam
Orientation was pretty fun. We did some bowling, toured the city, pub crawled, pub crawled, and pub crawled some more.
The ISN, the group that organizes orientation and various international events throughout the semester, put together an excursion on Saturday. We first went to the Storm Surge Barrier just outside of Rotterdam. Quite simply, it is two curved arms that move out and block sea water from coming into the river and flooding like it did in the early 1950s, which was an event about as widespread and fatal as Hurricane Katrina.
We also went to Amsterdam, which was just beautiful. In a very different way from Paris, but nonetheless, it is a fantastic place with lots of lovely canals and the like. It seems a lot more touristy than Paris as well. I can't imagine biking there--the streets are simply too congested. Surprisingly, it made me glad that I don't live in such a gigantic tourist hub.
We only had enough time to walk around a bit and grab some dinner, so I definitely plan to go back for a weekend and visit the Van Gogh museum and the Rijksmuseum.
The folks in this picture are some kids from my orientation group: Rebecca (Sweden), Jerrad (US), and Jenna (Scotland). Picture this: people from 7 or 8 different countries eating Chinese food together in Amsterdam. This is when you know we live in a truly globalized world.
I found the Red Light District to be incredibly saddening. It brings me back to the debate we studied in Fems last term about whether prostitution is a good thing or a bad thing, taking into consideration a woman's choice to do it, legal considerations (the Netherlands has health regulations and taxes associated with the business), etc. In America, I think prostitution is more of an abstract idea if you're not seeing it out there every single day...whereas in Amsterdam and numerous other cities around the country, day and night, there are women in their underwear showcased in these windows and I feel forced to really consider how I feel about it. I myself felt objectified and victimized when I saw the women in the windows--how can we be expected to live in a world without objectification if one of the most influential countries make huge tax dollars off of their bodies? Also, there are zero male prostitutes out there. Apparently they tried it once and the guy just got heckled. Awesome.
On to more pleasant things. There are several residential areas here, all of which are technically off campus. The international students live in either Lent (4-person flats much like the Mods, located in a very Newton-like satellite campus across the bridge from Nijmegen) and 15-person corridors in Hoogeveldt (where I live). One would think that I really lucked out, being within walking distance from campus and a 10-15 minute bike ride from the city, but it gets very quiet here. It was nice to be invited to Lent last night to have dinner with some new friends. People can COOK here. The French kids made carbonara and the Spanish kids made paella and the conversation was loud and refreshing.
Still waiting--impatiently, as usual--for classes to start. As all of you probably know, I must always have a solid plan in place for every hour of my day or I just explode. Ergo, the last couple of weeks could definitely be classified as one lengthy explosion. There is so much waiting involved with everything here. You ask about something as simple as a class change and people furrow their brows and tell you "Oh, that'll definitely take a few days." I'm still not signed up for any classes and they technically start today. (Insert freakout here.)
I know that the sheer volume of activities and schoolwork I do at BC tend to stress me out at times (understatement), but that kind of stress is nothing compared to just waiting. And looking out at the low-lying clouds and wondering when it'll be spring again.
Off to pay rent (wow, do I feel like a big girl), get some passport photos taken, and apply for a sports card. Hopefully I'll know by the end of the week if it's possible to take a long weekend in Rome to hang out with Chorale people at the end of the month. I feel so far away from home right now for so many reasons. I know it takes time to establish oneself in a new place, so I'm just holding out. I just hope it happens soon.
The ISN, the group that organizes orientation and various international events throughout the semester, put together an excursion on Saturday. We first went to the Storm Surge Barrier just outside of Rotterdam. Quite simply, it is two curved arms that move out and block sea water from coming into the river and flooding like it did in the early 1950s, which was an event about as widespread and fatal as Hurricane Katrina.
We also went to Amsterdam, which was just beautiful. In a very different way from Paris, but nonetheless, it is a fantastic place with lots of lovely canals and the like. It seems a lot more touristy than Paris as well. I can't imagine biking there--the streets are simply too congested. Surprisingly, it made me glad that I don't live in such a gigantic tourist hub.
We only had enough time to walk around a bit and grab some dinner, so I definitely plan to go back for a weekend and visit the Van Gogh museum and the Rijksmuseum.
The folks in this picture are some kids from my orientation group: Rebecca (Sweden), Jerrad (US), and Jenna (Scotland). Picture this: people from 7 or 8 different countries eating Chinese food together in Amsterdam. This is when you know we live in a truly globalized world.I found the Red Light District to be incredibly saddening. It brings me back to the debate we studied in Fems last term about whether prostitution is a good thing or a bad thing, taking into consideration a woman's choice to do it, legal considerations (the Netherlands has health regulations and taxes associated with the business), etc. In America, I think prostitution is more of an abstract idea if you're not seeing it out there every single day...whereas in Amsterdam and numerous other cities around the country, day and night, there are women in their underwear showcased in these windows and I feel forced to really consider how I feel about it. I myself felt objectified and victimized when I saw the women in the windows--how can we be expected to live in a world without objectification if one of the most influential countries make huge tax dollars off of their bodies? Also, there are zero male prostitutes out there. Apparently they tried it once and the guy just got heckled. Awesome.
On to more pleasant things. There are several residential areas here, all of which are technically off campus. The international students live in either Lent (4-person flats much like the Mods, located in a very Newton-like satellite campus across the bridge from Nijmegen) and 15-person corridors in Hoogeveldt (where I live). One would think that I really lucked out, being within walking distance from campus and a 10-15 minute bike ride from the city, but it gets very quiet here. It was nice to be invited to Lent last night to have dinner with some new friends. People can COOK here. The French kids made carbonara and the Spanish kids made paella and the conversation was loud and refreshing.
Still waiting--impatiently, as usual--for classes to start. As all of you probably know, I must always have a solid plan in place for every hour of my day or I just explode. Ergo, the last couple of weeks could definitely be classified as one lengthy explosion. There is so much waiting involved with everything here. You ask about something as simple as a class change and people furrow their brows and tell you "Oh, that'll definitely take a few days." I'm still not signed up for any classes and they technically start today. (Insert freakout here.)
I know that the sheer volume of activities and schoolwork I do at BC tend to stress me out at times (understatement), but that kind of stress is nothing compared to just waiting. And looking out at the low-lying clouds and wondering when it'll be spring again.
Off to pay rent (wow, do I feel like a big girl), get some passport photos taken, and apply for a sports card. Hopefully I'll know by the end of the week if it's possible to take a long weekend in Rome to hang out with Chorale people at the end of the month. I feel so far away from home right now for so many reasons. I know it takes time to establish oneself in a new place, so I'm just holding out. I just hope it happens soon.
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