Another brief insight

First, a disclaimer: Thus far, the Dutch I've met have been very kind, speak English graciously to appease the stupid American, and are pretty competent (with the obvious exception of the country-wide adherence to bureaucracy, even when completely contradictory to all that is good and practical).

That said, I'm starting to think that some are straight-up retarded. (Was that terribly un-PC? Sorry. I've just been away from the States too long, I guess.)

So I've learned to read a bit of Dutch (largely some basic vocab words + an uncanny ability to pick up on context clues) and noticed the other day over a mug of tea that THERE ARE INSTRUCTIONS ON THE TEA BOX. As in HOW TO MAKE TEA. As in HEAT WATER AND POUR IT IN A MUG WITH SAID TEA BAG. Which is quickly followed by an admonition that BOILING WATER MAY BE HOT.

Anecdote number two. When I first moved into my flat, I found that the washer and dryer were completely covered in handmade signs with capital letters and lots of exclamation points. They seemed important, so I asked my flatmate Dorothea for a translation. The signs say such illustrious things as DON'T DROP WET LAUNDRY ON THE FLOOR! IT'LL GET DIRTY! and DON'T PUT YOUR BRAS IN THE DRYER! and DETERGENT GOES IN THE COMPARTMENT MARKED "DETERGENT".

These same people also managed to build a successful nation below sea level. My mind is officially boggled.

Koninginnedag 2009

Drew came down to the continent for Queen's Day. Always great to see a familiar face. For the uninitiated, Queen's Day (Koninginnedag in Dutch) is the birthday of the late Queen Juliana. It's basically an excuse for everyone to dress in obnoxious orange clothing and have gigantic dance parties in the streets fueled by copious amounts of beer (and cocaine, apparently?). Total. Freaking. Blast.

The best DJs--in my humble opinion--could be found at the Marie Heinekenplein in the afternoon, but we also managed to catch DJ Tiesto in the hideously crowded Museumplein later in the day:



Total hooligan behavior.

On a different note: I'm sure you've seen on CNN or otherwise about the car crash that happened yesterday...to be honest, I really was pretty much oblivious to it until we saw the news online. The queen and the royal family were visiting the small city of Apeldoorn (about 30 miles from Nijmegen) when this guy crashed his car into the crowd and just narrowly missed the motorcade. He died this morning of brain injuries, but his final words were that the crash was an attack on the royal family. Four people are dead and I think the country's pretty shaken up.

It's very strange to experience a national tragedy as an expatriate. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it...I'm distanced from it simply by virtue of being an American abroad, but in some ways it hits much closer to home than simply finding it tragic because innocent people died.


More on Krakow soon. Pictures are up on Picasa (picasaweb.google.com/margaretaislinncarr) if you want to take a gander.

Krakow-ing up

Excuse the bad pun. I haven't been sleeping so well as of late.

Briefly: y'all need to be really proud of me, because I managed to pack everything I need for 4 days in Poland in my backpack. I'm bringing ONE PAIR OF SHOES.

(Collective gasp!)

(Collective applause.)

I'll be back from the homeland on Monday afternoon.

Tour de Nijmegen

This is what happens when you give bikes, beer, and neon spandex to a bunch of internationals with minimal work, no extracurricular activities, and no immediate travel plans.


The race commenced!



There were only a few casualties: a wheelchair, a rear bumper, and the front wheel of a bike (picture above) due to said collision with bumper.



Honestly, it was one of the best days I've had here thus far. The sun was out, the veggie burgers were a'grillin', and the laughter was plentiful. Nijmegen isn't always wonderful like this, but I'm sure glad when it is.

"No, it's not nirvana, but it's on the way..."

So we were all sitting around Jaclyn's kitchen table with a bottle of wine a couple of weeks ago and her flatmate Jasper mentioned that he was in a choir. Me: WHERE? WHEN? HOW? PLEEEEEASE TAKE ME. PLEEEEEASE.

And he did!

We're singing Poulenc and Stravinsky and my sight-reading abilities and vocal cords are intensely out of shape and it's conducted entirely in Dutch, but I'm officially joining next week as a sopraan een (soprano 1, for all you keeping score at home). This is...good.

Other news: finished with first-term finals on Thursday, participating in the Tour de Nijmegen (80's-themed bike race and BBQ with the internationals) on Saturday, just finished Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (and LOVED it), and regained electricity in my flat today for the first time since Saturday night. The weather's good. Awesome, actually.

Oh, and there was a petting zoo at the gihugic Easter Monday market in town.

Sometimes I still can't believe that I'm in Europe. Nothing really makes me think "WOW, that was European" anymore. Even seeing fellow students enjoying beers outside the campus bar on my way into class doesn't seem weird anymore. Nor do bicycle school buses carrying loads of preschoolers. (Sorry, no pics for that one...you'll just have to imagine.)

I'm home in exactly 11 weeks. As excited as I am to fall prostrate and kiss the gum-covered sidewalks of Illadelph International Airport, I can't shake the feeling that time is flying waaaay too fast. In fact, I just got an email about senior picture sittings. BUUHHHHH.

Good Friday, Dutch-heathen style.

Fake Vermont...

...Swedes hard at work...



...and open umbrellas at Piecken.

Filth.

So you know how I said that our hallway kitchen is the universal black hole of filth? Proof (Dad, you should enjoy this one).


Also good to keep in mind: this was taken on a Saturday. Saturday as in two days after the majority of my roommates go home for the weekend. This pile of half-eaten week-old food, used cooking appliances, and warm fritesaus (can I think of anything more horrible? well, no.) is usually left out on the table/counter for all remaining roommates to enjoy for three to four days.

Oh, and I found a dead mouse next to the couch yesterday.