Paula Goes to Holland : Rotary Scholar Adventures

My New Blog!!!!

2012-01-10T04:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

I am living and volunteering as an English teacher in Palestine/ the West Bank/ Israel for three months. Do not worry, I am safe. The city here is one of the most friendly and awesome places I have ever lived in. There is no violence.
Life is safe. Since everyone knows each other here in the city of Nablus there is also no theft or harassment towards tourist at all. The people here are lovely. Please subscribe to my blog to follow my travels here. While in the West Bank I hope to be able to speak at or attend the only Rotary Club in Palestine. Also, when I return to the States I shall have a few weeks before I head back up to Maine to teach. If you would like to arrange me to speak at your Rotary Club, social group, church or organization, please let me know. It would be a pleasure. You can follow my blog by typing the following into google:

shwei arabic in occupied territory the sun also rises

In Peace (English), Salaam (Arabic), Shalom (Hebrew), Paula

Chewonki! (My new job)

2011-08-08T11:51:00.000-07:00

I love Maine. I have seen where my new job will be, teaching in the Maine woods. It is beautiful. It is right on a boat-flecked bay, surrounded by fields, horse farms and spruce trees. I felt at home at once. When I came it was around six at night and the sun was reflecting off the water; boats lazed in the current.

It was a long drive, but well worth the trip. I am struck by how cool Maine is in summer (literally and metaphorically.) It was about 75 f yesterday. There are fields literally blue with blueberries, and roadside stands of pies and produce. Nearly every car is a Subaru or truck with a kayak, canoe and three bicycles tethered to the back with odd rope configurations and fishing poles sticking out the windows. My kind of place. If you drive through Maine on a Saturday, every other house boasts a yard sale or barn spilling with antiques to trade. Sometimes you see tractors driving on the road in more remote places. Maine people are down-to-earth, independent, resourceful and nice. They remind me a bit of West Virginians in a way. I like the way Mainers dress—very practically. No frills. The land is gorgeous, yellow where there are fields, and purple and pink with spiky flowers called lupines. What I find to be most beautiful however, is the ocean.

I recently got my lifeguard certification and will soon get my Wilderness First Responder (WFR) training on a small island in Maine called Hurricane Island before my work begins. To be a WFR I have eighty hours of training to learn how to respond to emergency medical situations in remote settings.

These are pictures my sister Caroline took of the lovely place I shall soon call home. At the moment there is nowhere on earth I think more beautiful.

Saying Goodbye

2011-08-04T05:13:00.000-07:00

My year in Holland is over and my new job in America about to begin. And yet, there are so many more European posts I want to include! I want to tell you about some of the magical places I had the opportunity to visit on my Rotary trip around Europe chaperoning high school students. There is simply not time for them all, so, here is a summary:

In Barcelona Spain the seafood is served in bite-sized portions called “tapas” that explode your notions of appetizers and prove that lots of little dishes can make a stunning meal. I discovered Gaudi in Spain—a deceased architect. This Spanish master created Sagrada Familia and Park Guell. These landmarks are well known in Europe but little known in the U.S They are extraordinary. The former is the most magnificent church I have ever seen, the later, the most brilliant of parks. The architecture in both mirrors nature; in the church, the pillars twist like trees. The entire façade is covered with the most intricate carvings. Park Guell is almost as stunning. This park, situated on a hill, is adorned with glass mosaic-encrusted walkways and winding benches. There is also a colorful lizard fountain, covered in pottery tiles.

And then there was Italy—as beautiful as it is famed to be. The majestic hillsides invited comparisons to West Virginia. In Venice, canals were plied by men in straw hats and striped shirts standing on gondolas with long poles. On the island of Mirano I saw glass being blown. And, I visited Burano, Italy, by boat. This island is known primarily for its architecture, and for its lace (like Belgium.) Every house was painted a different color. In Rome I saw the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel. There was also a full exhibit of Faberge Eggs. These are easter-egg shaped jewelry boxes commissioned by Alexander III and Nicholas II of Russia in the late 1890’s.

And then there was Austria. By this point in the Europe tour I was tired of being on a tour bus so I went for a long run around the Danube. This river is the second longest in Europe and meanders through, or forms part of the border for ten countries. The Austrian countryside is picturesque: the undulating hills are speckled with white castles that looked plucked from a Brother Grimes fairy tale. Vienna was a lovely city: the sound of hooves striking flagstones, squares filled with music and folk dancers twirling in black and red skirts. And then I visited the Czech Republic, whose rural places still maintain an old-world feel, and where arias in their opera house seemed to lift the beams from the gilded ceiling with their sweetness.

There is so much to tell. I learned so much. But now, it is off to another adventure. I am home now, in West Virginia. There is much I miss about Holland and Europe in general. Mostly, I miss the cultural beauty of Old World art and music, folk culture and traditions. I also miss my awesome Dutch buddies. (I hope to send you all postcards soon!) And, I know I’m a cliché but gosh I miss my bike!

This year fulfilled my expectations and further awakened my passion for travel. People were the best part of my experience in Holland. Thank you all for your kindness, your hospitality! I hope to be able to return the favor someday. It has been a wonderful year.

I finished my program, got an MA in cultural history from the University of Utrecht. I am now ready to embark on a new and different adventure. Tomorrow my job begins as an outdoor classroom instructor at Chewonki Maine Coast Semester School in Maine. At this innovative school I will teach most of my classes outdoors and sleep in a tent five nights out of seven. My car is packed with tent supplies, bungee cords and wool socks, for Maine in autumn. I am eager to drive the long distance up the coast to try my hand at teaching and roughing it in the woods of New England. Someone once wrote that there are those who can live without wild things and those that cannot. I cannot. I am one who loves the outdoors. Eventually I hope to return to West Virginia and teach, or start my own school. In the meantime I hope to learn how different schools around America and the world operate. I will cull the best teaching techniques and use them as I grow.

In November I will retun to West Virginia to give presentations at Rotary Clubs. If you are interested in having me speak about the Rotary Ambassadorial Program at your club, please let me know! My email is: kaufmanbrown@gmail.com

Fondly,
Paula

P.S
I hope to try and keep up with this blog everyone once in a while from the Maine woods

Paula

Gaudi's glorious church

Street performers jamming in Barcelona

Barcelona, Spain

A Faberge egg at the Vatican Museum

The Vatican Museum had one of the most impressive collections of art I have ever seen, I thought it was more unbelievable than the Louvre in Paris

Cranes at sunrise from the bus window, Italy

The Roman Colosseum!

The Italian countryside reminded me of West Virginia's hills!

A glass horse I watched being blown in Murano, Italy. The horse was so hot when made that when the artist touched a piece of paper to it, the paper went up in flame

Murano is known for having the best glass in the world

In the glass shops, pictures were not allowed for some of the fancier room-filling chandeliers. I believe this is to protect the designs from being copied.

The glass-blowing tradition in Italy is thousands of years old

The island of Burano, Italy

Burano homes

Venice

Gardens in Vienna

In Vienna, dozens of horse-drawn carriage-taxies line the cobbled streets

Austrian folk dancers. Dancing is a popular tradition in Austria and there are dozens of themed balls a year in Vienna. Young people learn to waltz and dance in school growing up.

A small folk festival in Vienna, Austria

In the Prague Opera House about to listen to the marvelous opera "The Magic Flute."

Me in Prague

Music man playing on a famous bridge in Prague

Czech crystal

Prague, Czech Republic

Beautiful Czech bridge

A Day in Bruges

2011-08-03T18:31:00.000-07:00

With a little money left in my wallet, and three days before I was set to depart from Holland, I vowed to go somewhere I had not been. Belgium. I awoke early, fed fifty euro in change into the ticket machine (they do not take bills) and off I went to Bruges, Belgium. This is a story about FOOD. When in Bruges eat and drink. There is not much else to do, except perhaps see women make lace, or nuns perambulate around a lovely nunnery. Bruges is gorgeous; the entire old center is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and most of the old buildings remain intact. I have included some pictures of the city in this post.

Course 1: Chocolates
My gastronomic adventures started off in reverse nutritional order. First course was to sample scrumptious chocolates. I had many, each from a different chocolatier (a chocolate shop.) Bruges has more chocolate shops than West Virginia has mountains. My favorite was a violet-flavored chocolate.

Course 2: Cake
At 11 a.m., I greedily sampled a big piece of sour-cherry-cream cake, enfolded in a pastry.

Course 3: Beer
Beer has been brewed in Belgium since the Middle Ages. According to my tour guide, Belgium makes around 750 varieties of beer. Belgium is particulary known for its Trappist beers. (Trappists are a Roman Catholic religious order of contemplative monks.) This beer must be made in a monastery by monks (this sounds ironic to me!) Only seven breweries meet these qualifications; six are in Belgium and one is in the Netherlands.

The brewery I toured was lovely. Tables were set out in the sunshine where individuals sipped beer and speared cheese and sausage with toothpicks. From the ground level one could see steam leaving steel cylinders. The steam comes from the hops, which smells like cooked broccoli. Hops ( a word I did not know before my year in Europe) are the flowers of the hop plant. These buds are used to flavor beer, giving it a bitter punch. Hops were first cultivated in Bavaria the 8th century. The plants, which are related to nettles, could sting the hands and were often difficult to gather, especially for children in older times. However, hops-gathering was a big profession, even in America, during the Great Depression. Today, America still produces the second largest quantity of hops behind Germany.

At first I am skeptical about this tour—I don’t even really like the taste of beer (though I do like this hops smell!) However, I am soon won over by the guide’s aplomb and humor. And by the beer. It is beer you want to savor. Smell it for ten seconds before you drink, says the guide, put your finger into the beer and put it on your hand and smell it to see if it has a metallic taste—if it does, it could have been canned beer, or the water used to brew it could have had a metallic taste. This beer does not taste like metal. It has a meaty, nutty taste. The beer is served in a broom-shaped glass, with a narrow opening to trap the smell inside. If you have a cold do not bother to drink a good beer, asserts the guide. Smell is inextricably bound to taste, she exclaims.

Facts: More beer varieties are made in Belgium than anywhere. Ninety-percent of all bottles in Belgium and Holland are returned to the original brewery. According to the guide, most people buy their beer by the case and receive between a five and seven euro refund for returning the bottles.

Course 4: Dinner

Mussels are a local specialty, so I had to have them--everyone else was. The thing was, most people were SPLITTING a pot of mussels. I ate my own. The mussels were seasoned with white wine. When I finished snapping open the mettalic blue shell of the last one, I looked like a tranquilized animal: stunned and smiling. My mussels were accompanied by a plate of delicious fries “frites.” These are usually made with local potatoes and are a cut thicker than American fries. They are known as “the slowest fast food,” in these parts and people leisurely savor each one, usually served in a paper cone. My fries came on a plate, with mustard. Frite shops are popular here, as they are in Holland.

It is difficult to describe how full I was when I left Belgium. One could be fat and happy in that country, I am convinced (though one could bike off the pounds touring the gorgeous country.) Belgium intrigues me because of its linguistic diversity (Dutch, French and German are spoken there) and its cultural vibrancy. I love the handcrafted lace and the old stone. Oh, and the beer and chocolates. Did I mention the chocolates?

Pictures of Paris

2011-07-28T07:15:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite places I visited this year was Paris. I love the Seine river, dotted with elegantly sculpted buildings. The Tour Eiffel (Eiffel Tower)which I climbed by night; the Notre Dame Cathedral, the Louvre, Montmartre, a French hilltop peppered with portrait artists and creperies. Though I do not like how much the French smoke, I like the way the French dress and drink wine at late hours and the mind-stunning aroma of freshly flipped crepes, spread thin with jam. I love the wide boulevards, which remind me a bit of Washington, D.C., and how easy it is to find your way around.

When the Parents Came

2011-07-18T13:15:00.000-07:00

This post is from a little while ago, when my parents visited the Netherlands. We had a blast. A few highlights of my trip included befriending Dutch locals at a restaurant, going to the most famous tulip gardens in the world and biking through Utrecht with my father. (I was unable to find a bike that was small enough for my mom...)

Since my mom is a painter and loves color, she was keen to see the Keukenhof Gardens. The Keukenhof (pronounced co-ken-hoff or coo-ken-hoff) is the world's largest flower garden. Seven million bulbs are annually planted there. My parents loved the tulip fields, which resembled fields of color: red, pink, and violet stretched for acres, creating a technicolored paradise.

Another thing my parents love are antiques. For this reason, early one Saturday we visited an antique market in the town of Delft. This town is known for their singular blue and white pottery, which was inspired by Chinese porcelain in the 17th century. It looks a bit like America’s flow blue chinaware. Of course my parents bought some, negotiating the price as they went.

Other things I enjoy about being around my folks is they are pretty gregarious. They go up and talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime. At a wonderful restaurant, my folks quickly befriended a family at a neighboring table. All the chefs. The cashier. And the entire wait staff. My parents loved this certain restaurant so much that we ate there no less than four times. In seven days. The Easter brunch was out of this world. There were copious varieties of homemade bread, hunks of cheese filled with various herbs, soups, potato salad and egg salad, sliced meats drizzled with savory sauces and salmon. The desert buffet stretched around the room. It featured multi-layered cakes and a nesting ice cream dish like a baked Alaska that included one flavor of homemade sorbet ensconced in another layer, wrapped in yet another layer of ice cream baked inside a meringue shell.

Behind this restaurant was a pasture where a game of “farmer’s golf” had been erected. The family my parents had been speaking to at the restaurant invited us to be their guests and play a game. Farmer’s golf is like croquet, but you hit balls into buckets sitting in holes in the ground instead of wickets, and the mallet has a wooden shoe affixed to the end. It was a great day.

Other highlights of my parents visit included driving to Zeeland. This is the westernmost province of the Netherlands. This area is comprised of several islands, hence it's name which means "sea-land." (New Zealand is named after Zeeland; the Dutch explored that country in 1642.)We had come to this location because my dad (who is a judge in Charleston) had been communicating with a local judge in the capital of Middelburg. My father wanted to know some of the ins and outs of how the Dutch justice system operated. However, when we reached Middelburg, the local judge was so happy to have a visitor that he did not want to talk about work related things, though my dad insisted!

All and all I believe my parents had a charming time. As evidence of this, they are already discussing possible times to re-visit this country. Though the museums and food and sights were stunning, I believe my parents most enjoyed simply perambulating near where I live--taking in the sights of geese floating along the canals, Queen Ann's lace openings it's white fronds and sun in the air.
Enjoy the photos! --Paula

The Keukenhof Gardens

Me and my Dad in Utrecht

Delf Antique Market

Zeeland, Middelburg, the Netherlands

The judge in Middelburg letting my dad try on his robe.

Killer food at the Easter buffet in Bunnik, Holland

Farmer's Golf!

Flower Market Time!

2011-06-25T07:06:00.000-07:00

In Utrecht on Saturday mornings there is always a food market. There is also a flower market. I snapped these photos in between downpours of rain. I was able to capture the flower-sellers, their soil-laden hands bundling flowers in paper, while they puffed on cigarettes. People of all ages walked away with flowers (sometimes several bunches, as you will see) sandwiched under their arms.

Winter to Summer in Ten Lines

2011-06-23T15:49:00.000-07:00

Lost in the city; bike stolen; scam artists.

I can finally navigate my way home…

The mailwoman skids through the snow on her bike delivering packages.

In winter I love walking along Stockholm’s ice-flecked harbor, talking to boats.

My mittened hands grasp mulled, spiced red wine at the German Christmas Market in Cologne.

Hot crepes spread paper-thin and tossed over; I love Parisian food!

Popping open my umbrella: rain, sun, rain; I did not know Holland had a monsoon season!

Queen’s Day and the streets are crammed with carousing Dutchies wearing orange head to foot.

I watched sun flood stained glass windows in a Barcelona church, birds singing outside.

“Hello duckling in the canal, bunny, gosling, wind-swept beach at the Hague; hello thesis.”

Germany--yum

2011-06-22T23:00:00.000-07:00

Here are some more reflections on Germany, mostly food-related.

1. Food

To say that German pastries and bread are great is an understatement. Germany makes over 600 main types of bread and 1,200 pastries, produced in over 27,000 bakeries, according to my research. Darker rye-type bread is most popular. (Germans would probably be aghast at the white Wonder Bread that passes for bread in America…)

The bread is good; the sweets, epic. Back in September I spent my birthday with a good friend in Germany. One of our first stops was to a bakery. The choices for cake were mind-numbing. I’m convinced that no person ever walks out of a German bakery with one slice of cake. We left with two slices: a triple-layer fruit tort slice and piece of dark-chocolate-almond meringue cake. I like to wash down my German food with apfelschorle--my new favorite soft drink. It is merely carbonated water and apple juice, but it tastes much better in Germany than when I attempt to make it at home...

2. Christmas Markets

Germany is known for some crazy festivals; carnival (where everyone dresses up) and October Fest are two of the better known ones, but small fairs happen all the time (think West Virginia.) For example, when I was in Gottingen with a friend there was a great little fair with loads of street food (mostly of the meat variety, hard for a vegetarian), soft pretzels and beer—of course. There were also musical troops. I listened to two forty-plus-looking women in bell-bottom white stretch pants with long blond and brown wigs, rock to Abba in front of a huge crowd. I also crouched down with some six and seven-year-olds to get a prime view of a swell German puppet show going on.

However, my favorite German festival happens in winter: Christmas Markets. There is nothing like holding a mug of hot, German mulled wine in your mittened hands on a freezing cold night, spiced steam wafting around you, surrounded by twinkling market lights and stars.

What: Christkindlmarkts are large craft and food markets that last the entire month of December. This tradition dates back to the Late Middle Ages in Germany and Austria; there are now Christmas Markets all over the world.

Where: In many towns and major German cities.

When: It lasts the month of December, day and night, though it is most fun to go in the evening when vendor’s stalls are illuminated with lights.

Who to Go With: I went with a German friend (Sabrina!) My friend showed me how there were two markets within close proximity to each other. One was made mostly for tourists, she said, the other for locals. The one for locals was much cooler. For example, the food was more authentic and all the crafts (leather belts, wool hat, candles, etc.,) were handmade.

Purchases: I bought mostly food items (marzipan logs, gingerbread hearts) and a little wood carving of an owl perched on an open book.

Eat and Drink: Roasted chestnuts that come out piping hot and are served in a paper cone. They are incredible and taste a bit like really sweet meat. I also ate a pfannkucken (a large crepe-esque pancake) smeared with hot apples and delicious nut and berry-stuffed stollen (a sweet bread.) A lot of people were eating meat on skewers by the fistful. However, the hallmark item is gluhwein! This spiced wine is laddled piping hot into your mug. It is flavored with lemon rind, cinnamon, cloves, vanilla pods, though these ingredients are not found in your cup. The drink can be made with red and white wine, but is more popular with red. At a Christmas Market you are given a pottery collector’s edition mug for your gluhwein. You pay about three euro for your first glass (replete with mug.) Then, every glass after that is about a euro. At the end of the night you can return your mug for a two euro refund, though I kept my mug (as some people do) for souvenirs. Gluhwein is delicious and keeps you warm all night. Prost to that! (Cheers in German.)I hope to go back to visit another Christmas Market someday.

Jewish in Europe

2011-06-21T02:00:00.000-07:00

It is strange being Jewish in Europe. There are not that many Jews here anymore.

Being Jewish and living in Europe seems different than being Jewish in America. In the U.S there are lots of cultural symbols to affirm one’s identity: popular tv shows, movies and songs that reference Jewish culture. Many of us have Jewish friends and some window displays sport menorahs and “Happy Chanukah” in addition to “Merry Christmas.” This is not so in Europe. As any student of history knows, and as someone now living here can attest to: most of the Jews are gone. I am told that there are Jewish populations in the bigger cities. Maybe.

That being said, my Dutch friends enjoy me teaching them a bit about my culture. For example, during one night of Chanukah I lit a menorah with my Dutch roommate. I said the prayer over the candles; I think she liked it.

The only Jew I have met here was my professor that lead my class trip to Berlin. His father was the only Jew to survive in his Dutch town. It so happened that he was away (perhaps playing at a friend's home)the day the village was evacuated.

At the Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam I asked to see a book that catalogues the names of all Dutch Jews killed in the Holocaust. I was able to look up a few family member’s names. It was eerie.

I am reminded of my Jewish history everywhere, particularly in Berlin. Three of the four branches of my family tree stem from Germany (the other from Russia.) And all the branches are Jewish. Fortunately, most of my family moved to America, many to West Virginia, in the late 1800’s. In West Virginia they helped build Charleston's first temple (Jewish places of workship can be called both synogogues and temples.)

My grandmother Marian, my mother’s mother, arrived in America in the early 30’s as a three-year-old. Her parents had incredible foresight. If they had waited any longer to leave, the borders would have been closed. Short story: I would not be here. I am so grateful to the prescience of my ancestors.

Before the war, my great-grandparents Helmut and Hildegard lived in Berlin in a beautiful home. They had many friends and nice things. Helmut was a professor and violinist in the orchestra. Hildegard (who I called Mimi as a child) was a singer in the Berlin Opera. Helmut starting speaking out against Hitler in the university (a no-no.) He was either told to be silent or fired (I forget which). But, at that point, he had a premonition; he knew things were going to get bad. How did he suspect so early? I do not know. And so, Helmut and Hildegard and their little girl, my awesome grandmother, left behind everything and came to America. They would always crave their life in Germany and everything left behind.

So, when walking around Germany, I think of these things. This is one of the reasons I am ambivalent about Berlin and sometimes Germany.

Certain things make me ponder. One example was the time my class visited an exhibition in Berlin on the Third Reich in the winter.The thing that got me was an enormous bolt of cloth stamped with yellow stars that said Jude (Jew in German.) By law, the stars were to be cut and worn by all. The stars were intended to be a badge of shame associated with Judaism. It was compulsory in the Middle Ages for Jews to wear such a star and then it was brought back by the Nazis. For some reason that bolt of cloth, with the edge cut in a jagged line, meaning that fabric had been used a lot, struck an emotional cord causing me to hurry through the rest of the exhibit. The rest of my classmates took their time.

My visit to Berlin made me think more about this sad past. Another thing that fueled my reflection on the Holocaust was being around adults and students on my Rotary trip. I wish I could say that the adults and students were different...I caught a few of the trip leaders (not all) and the bus driver, as well as the students making countless hurtful and prejudiced jokes and comments. The bus driver, for example, called gays "pedophiles and sub-human," he was being serious. Such violent thoughts lead to violent actions, I believe. There happened to be a gay student on the trip with us. The adult Rotarian, leading the trip, listened to the bus driver and said nothing. Later, the trip leader made sweeping generalizations about Mexican-Americans that I found horribly offensive. Ironically, at the same moment he was asking me about whether I agreed with what he believed was a fantastic idea to build more walls on the Mexican border to keep others out, we were at the sight of the old Berlin Wall....

If you are wondering how the above comments relate to the Holocaust...The lesson of WWII is that large-scale persecution begins with people being treated differently at a small level. I believe that words are as poweful as actions and have the ability to become actions.

The Holocaust did not happen overnight. It started with the government whittling away freedoms. For example, at one point Jews had a strict curfew when they could go outdoors, they could not ride trams, own bikes (this would have been a big deal in Holland); they could not visit Christians, date Christians, go to the cinema or swim in swimming pools. And, it wasn't that long ago (during my parent's childhood) in America, when both Jews and African Americans were forbidden to swim in many private swimming pools....

The point of this post is two-fold. First, it is to tell a bit about my family history. The second point is to help us see connections between the injustice of the Holocaust and today. We must be on the lookout for inequity in our own backyards, whether it is the earth being destroyed, or schools that do not teach reading and writing early enough or wages that are higher for men than for women, or not high enough period. It is a reminder for us to have the courage to say something when we hear destructive remarks made about people. Even when it is unpopular to do so. We adults need to serve as positive role-models for young people. And, it is never too late to give up prejudices. Also, by giving what we can to charities and groups, volunteering, and being on boards and in organizations (like Rotary, the American Civil Liberties Union or Amnesty International, for example)we do our part to create the world we want to live in. A just world. A world worth fighting for.

Berlin

2011-06-19T04:15:00.000-07:00

A note on the trip: I am back from my trip visiting many places in Europe. It was great fun. The kids were a handful and the sights, sounds and smells of Europe were glorious and will stay with me forever. I will get some of the poor moments out of the way now, so that you can enjoy the remainder of my blog posts without thinking about these aspects. While traveling by bus had its ups (I could see the landscape elegantly change through my window)it also had its down. For example, it's a bus. And, we had to stay on the bus, sometimes eight hours at a time to reach a destination. The trip was around 16 days. And then the engine would over-heat (several times.) And we had to stop, get out and wait. And we had to sleep on the bus sometimes on overnight drives (not my favorite place to nap.) And the children were the most ill-mannered and spoiled 18-year-olds I have ever met (one got drunk and threw-up on me in the middle of the night...) That aside, it was a great trip. Europe in summer is amazing, as you will see from the next several posts I will soon compose. Enjoy. -Paula

BERLIN

The next few write-ups will be about Germany. I have visited Deutschland (a border country to the Netherlands) more than any other country this year besides Holland. I still haven’t hiked in the forests of Bavaria in southern Germany, something I have been wanting to do, but I have seen other nice locales: Berlin, Cologne and Gottingen, a university town where my friend lives.

When I wrote about Berlin in winter I described it as austere with lots of concrete—it seemed like an unfriendly city. In summertime, the city’s harshness is helped by more greenery, but it still feels like a jumble of concrete. These thoughts aside, Berlin has some lovely attributes.
There are three activities I suggest if you visit Berlin (not counting eating out a lot, which is cheaper than in the Netherlands. Oh, and consume lots of yummy pastries…)

1. The Berlin Philharmonie (Philharmonic Orchestra)

The best six euros I spent in Germany. All I can say is go to a concert at the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. Whatever is playing, you will not be dissapointed. And tickets can be purchased right before the show. I have gone twice (neither time did I know ahead of time what I would be listening to) and have been amazingly pleased. Always ask for student discounts. Though they are not always advertised, they are often available (particularly at museums.) This time, I was treated to a swell concert performed by the children's chorus from the Berlin Opera. I must admit, I was skeptical, however, my doubt was insanely misplaced. My jaw was open for nearly an hour and I had a hard time closing it. The children had big talents and their director was magnificent. The group filled the small concert hall with aurias and crescendoes in German, French, Italian, Latin, English and Japanese. It was a highlight of my trip. Sometimes I have to be convinced to appreciate classical music; no convincing was needed with this concert.

2. The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

This new memorial is powerful and worth seeing. The architecture is effective, a bit like the Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C in its ability to provoke thought and introspection. The memorial consists of hundreds of plain concrete blocks and towers that one has to navigate through. You can climb up and sit on some of the shorter blocks. The land beneath the blocks is tilted. And so you become lost when walking in a grid-like maze of memory, cold air and shadows (and ice in winter.) It is worth seeing and definitely worth walking through (though not in winter.) It makes you think.

3. Tour of the Reichstag Building

Security is high at the Reichstag building and reservations may have to be booked in advance, but the reward--a 360 degree vista of Berlin--is worth it. Climbing a very high ramp in the building’s dom, one gets a great lookout point. This view improved my perspective of the city. First, I visibly saw how endowed Berlin is with historical and cultural resources—the myriad museums, monuments and institutes for history, culture, science and art attest to this. Secondly, from the heights of the Reichstag Building I saw a pleasant mix of green and brown, which is not always visible from street-level. I liked seeing the many green spaces and parks from the air.

A note of history: The Reichstag building was designed to house the German parliament in 1894 until 1933 when it was damaged in a fire. During the Nazi era meetings were no longer conducted in the building. In 1990, the old building was given a glorious facelift. It has an old base with a stunningly new glass dome on top. This architecture mirrors the buildings of the whole city, which combine new and old at every turn. Today, the German parliament, the Bundestag, meets in the building.

German phrases of the month:
Good morning: Gutten morgen
Good afternoon: Gutten tag
Good night: Gute nacht

Returning to Holland

2011-06-14T12:58:00.001-07:00

I shall soon fill you in on details from my trip around Europe. First though, a brief post on my return to the Netherlands (NL). Having now traveled to a half-dozen European countries, I feel qualified to come up with an adjective describing my host country. The word I have chosen is: Simple. The Dutch do not excel at exciting food like Italy or Spain (their national dish is mashed potatoes with greens mixed into them...)The Dutch love their potatoes. On market day old folks fill giant bags with their favorite variety of potato for the week. Goodness knows what they will use so many potatoes for! They do not like difference (dress like everyone else and you will be okay.)Houses are plain--many thatched roofs--and small. Towns and cities lack the glitz and ornamentation of Vienna. There is not the historical monumentality of Rome. Even the land is simple: flat and human-made. There are no undulating Italian mountains, no wind-swept French hillsides and there are barely any castles! (Unlike England or Germany.) Holland is plain, harkening back to its strict Calvinist roots. This country does not have the vibrant architectural creativity of Barcelona, Spain (think Gaudi, the genius Spanish architect.) Shops close early. And so, when I returned to the Netherlands yesterday I did very Dutch things: simple things. Man I miss Parisian crepes. And the wind over canals in Venice. But the simple pleasures of Holland make me smile, too.

Today I.... posted a letter, went to the Tuesday farmer's market, studied in the library and then went to another farmer's market! I bought more food. At six, tired of studying, I packed away my books and biked and walked for two hours in the surrounding woods. Then I returned to my studies. Now I am writing this post. Soon I will light a candle, read a book for fun and go to bed before 12. Enjoy the lovely pictures summarizing my day in the Netherlands, enjoying the simple things in life. Remember, sometimes the most plain things—a West Virginia summer tomato, an ear of corn, a walk after dinner when the sky is clear enough to see stars—contain a certain grace.

The first stall when you enter the market, you guessed it--potatoes!

Paula meets Europe

2011-05-27T09:48:00.000-07:00

One of the best parts of this Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship has been the opportunity to meet dozens of Rotarians across the Netherlands. I have given Rotary presentations at many Rotary clubs here. I have talked about West Virginia and shared facets of my amazing home state. The connections and pals I have made through Rotary have been blessings. When I did not have housing my first two weeks in the Netherlands, who housed me? A Rotary family. When a friend was visiting, who hosted us for dinner? A Rotarian. Rotarians were also there to help me get my first bike, and help me acclimate in every way to this new country.

Of course, this is all possible because of the Rotary clubs in West Virginia who believe that sending young people to other countries as cultural ambassadors helps both Appalachia and the world, by spreading goodwill and increasing knowledge. Thank you all~! I want to also thank my host club in Utrecht for inviting me to go on an all-expense paid trip across Europe tomorrow. For the next sixteen days I am helping chaperone 30 high school students on a tour of Europe. Without the Utrecht Rotary club (which I would not know without West Virginia Rotarians!) this trip would simply not happen.

Though I have been to a few incredible European and Scandinavian countries this year, there is still much to see. I visited Paris—amazing! I went to Berlin for a class trip—eye-opening; and visited family in Stockholm Sweden in winter—cold and unforgettable. However, there are so many places in Europe to go to. The truth is, I’m not as fearless as I would like to be. While an intrepid adventurer on my home turf—America—when it comes to being abroad, I sometimes get cold feet. I’m not one of those folks that hops on a plane each month to visit a new country(something many of my friends do while abroad, and something I applaud them for.) Sometimes someone has to light a match behind me to get me to jump! For this reason, I am so fortunate to have been invited by Rotary to visit a host of countries for two weeks. Rotary is the match, and I am sure I’m going to have one blazing-awesome time. When I get back I will supply you with colorful words about the trip. My schedule is the following: Berlin (3 days); Prague (2 days); Vienna (2 day); Venice (2 days); Rome (2 days); Barcelona (3 days); and Paris (2 days). It is going to be an awesome trip! Thank you all.

Paula

The Beauty of Song or Surprises in the Library

2011-05-22T06:09:00.000-07:00

I am in the library studying; no surprise. Then----music!

The main wing of the library has been converted into a concert hall. The room is capacious, open space extending for six floors. The acoustics are superb.

I do not know what composer they are playing. Bach? The melody is everywhere, reverberating off lamps, rising off books... Dancers, clad in blue, dash across the floor. I have prime seats by my computer which is behind the fantastic live orchestra and about fifty-fold-out chairs for the ticket paying audience. It is a full house.

The performance does not last long enough. The stage is cleared.
Afterwards:
“Did you manage to study,” a gentleman asked. “I didn’t want to,” I said. “I watched the whole time.” And I did not tell him that for the previous two-and- a-half-hours I had been bewitchingly mesmerized by their rehearsal, rarely lifting my fingers from my keyboard to type. Later, I congratulated the performers.

The welcoming surprise library concert was great. It reminded me of a few things.

Paula’s List of Things the Surprise Concert Reminded her of:

1. Think outside the circle. How many of your doors are white? We can paint our doors different colors! Or, even paint designs on them (a turtle, rabbit, sunrise, mountains.) Or, an even more radical idea, we can not have doors, we can travel the world for a year...

1. Everyone has an artistic gift to share with the world, creativity is a mindset, and there is so much we can give to each other through song, dance, writing, art, and the things we make everyday—whether we put a birdhouse together with help from a kit, craft a desk in our woodshop or knit a scarf at the breakfast table for our sister or grandchild. There are so many people in my life and family that are creative. They make things all the time. For some reason, I never thought of them as artists, as creators, but, they are. One does not have to make money from art to be considered talented and unbelievably creative. Here I would like to give a little shout out to my Uncle Tim, who can make nearly anything from wood!

2. Music reminds me to be ambitious. I am reminded of Lady Gaga, the current best-selling pop-singer who said in a recent New York Times article, “I have a one-two-punch: ambition and drive.” The point is, creating something amazing takes work. Hearing the superb violinists, cellists and violists today reminded me of the value of discipline and hard work. Without hours of practice and an intense love for music, the sounds I heard would not be feasible. I am reminded to pursue excellence.

3. There is always time for music and nobody is too busy to enjoy art. Maybe this is the voice of a student with time on her hands speaking, but I want it to be true for everyone. I am reminded of an article I read a few years ago in which the Washington Post paid a concert violinist to play in the D.C Metro station for an amount of time. The musician was video-taped. It was rush hour. Later, the journalist doing the story analyzed the film and saw that hardly anyone stopped to listen. There was an exception: children. They all stopped, craning their necks, before being tugged away by their busy parents. The point of the article was to stress how we rarely take time to enjoy beauty when it is staring us in the face. To read this fantastic article, which ended up winning the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing in 2007 See: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html (if this link does not work type Pearls Before Breakfast into google)

4. Most importantly: I am reminded of how much unexplained, unexplored and unexpected BEAUTY surrounds us at every turn. I hope I spend more time with eyes open to it!!!

As I am posting this blog something wonderful happens: A second performance begins... Studying will happen tomorrow.

Studying in Napoleon's Palace

2011-05-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

Spring gets into your bones and does not let go. I love this weather. I wish Dutch weather was like this all year! Today I biked home the entire way (23 minutes) with no hands! (minus stopping and sharp turns…) It was a good day overall. Lately, my days are dedicated to my thesis. Oh, the thesis! I have two months to produce something worthy of my Dutch masters degree. Ready. Set. Write! For the most part I enjoy the reading and the writing, though I do get momentary sunshine envy when I see peers strolling outside or sleeping in the grass! If I was not able to bike to and from the library each day (getting both exercise and sun) I might go loco. However, soon the thesis will be packed away in my little suitcase and summer will be here.

In the meantime, I look for good study spots. I spend my days in various locations with a book across my lap, or my laptop propped on my knees. Unlike some people who have A Special Corner in The Library where they study, I study wherever. Yesterday you could have found me lying in the grass beside a canal, half-way hidden behind a tree’s shadow. Today, it was a park bench in the center city.

You can tell I am working on my thesis because certain things in my day have changed—such as the cessation of most social activity, irregular meal and sleep times, and bike bags that will not snap shut they are so stuffed with reading material.

I have been pretty pleased with the libraries in Holland. The library in Utrecht’s city center used to be one of Napoleon’s homes. It has elegantly painted tiles on some of the walls, gesturing towards its former glory days. It is presently undergoing renovations, and therefore crowded, but Note: One can usually find a free room up the back staircase.

The other library I use on the new university campus is like a big, black, shiny box. From the inside, this “library box” is transparent. There are images of bamboo etched all over the walls and when light comes through, bamboo shadows streak the floors. Another neat feature is that all the walls are actually revolving windows that are temperature-sensitive and automatically open, depending on the weather.

Another favorite library is the Amsterdam Public Library, though I have only visited twice. That library has a piano anyone can play. It also has amazing light fixtures, rotating art being exhibited and Mac computers with chrome mouse, keyboard and screens that look so new they could have been made in 2016. Perhaps the only thing the Amsterdam Library lacks are....sheep. (The new Utrecht library has lambs grazing beside it.)
So now, off to the library, for another productive morning in which I research food, identity and slavery, and the intersection between the three.

The cool Amsterdam Public Library

New Utrecht University Library (on the Uithof Campus)

The Utrecht City Center Library (one of Napoleon's former homes)

Glass Houses, Boats & a Great Blue Heron

2011-05-06T11:52:00.001-07:00

When the sun is setting (8:00) I go for a walk and search for art's best friend: light. I take pictures wherever I see splashes of sun. I notice greenhouses (glass houses, glowing from the inside out), people plying the canals in their canoes and motor boats, and, off in a shady corner: an eerily still great blue heron. Each morning I spot a different duck shepherding her flock of ducklings through the reeds. Here it is not difficult to notice nature changing, and animals being born all around. My spring is filled with nature's elegance. I hope, in your corner of the world, spring is equally beautiful. Whether it is taking a walk in the evening or saluting the sun as it rises above the hills, I hope you take time to enjoy it.

April Review

2011-04-27T04:43:00.000-07:00

Everything is born in spring: ducklings, lambs. Daffodils and tulips are opening. I am writing my thesis. It will now be on the connection between slaves, soul food and southern cuisine. Not to jinx the weather, but it is warm enough for shorts. My parents came to the Netherlands for a grand visit. We dined on splendid food, partook in antique market-adventures and encountered an invisible pickpocketer. Zoe and Tanya, two dear friends and last year's roommates, also came to visit. My friend Sarah Perry, a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar from Morgantown, studying in Scotland, ran her first international Marathon in Holland. I had the good fun of being on hand to cheer her on. Sarah trained for months, sometimes running 15 miles a day. When she completed the marathon, she looked strong. Sarah used her marathon as a fundraising tool: She collaborated with her Rotary club to donate money to help end polio. Sarah has already raised several thousand dollars. For motivation during the long, hot race, she wrote on her arm: 30,300--the number of vaccines her running will pay for.

Sarah Perry readying for the Rotterdam Marathon in Holland. She is sporting the name of her Scottish and West Virginian Rotary Club on her shirt.

Sarah's running has raised enough money for this many polio vaccines. Training in Aberdeen, Scotland is not always easy. Sarah said she had to sometimes come indoors and crank out hours and miles on a treadmill when the shouting wind and rain from the Scottish coast was vitriolic.

I realize the word 'genius' should be used sparingly, you know, for people like Einstein or Marie Curie. But my fellow Brown senior-year roommates make me want to expand the usage of the word. Here I am, sitting in Holland's most famous tulip garden with two of my former university roommates, Tanya and Zoe. My other roommate, Daniela, is with is in spirit. We joke amongst ourselves about who will be the "doctor" of the lot.Daniela and Tanya, who studied engineering as undergraduates, will probably go on to get their PhDs in this field. Daniela is on this path already. And Zoe, who comes from a line of physicians, is poised to become a doctor. Her passion is women's health and reproductive health. She has a dream of one day starting a midwifery clinic. As a side note, from what I have read, midwives are far more common in Europe than in the United States. Zoe, who is from Eastern Tennessee, won a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship this fall to study at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland. She will be studying public health. Congratulations, Zoe! And Tanya, for getting into graduate school!

More Favorite Foods

2011-04-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

Italy is known for its pasta, Germany for its stellar bread and cakes, Belgium for its chocolates. The Dutch have pancakes which they eat for dinner instead of breakfast and the most amazing friend fish around. Oh, and also: cheese. The thickness of the Dutch pancake falls somewhere between a puffy American pancake and a French crepe--more like a crepe. And they can be made with a seemingly infinite variety of toppings. The most popular topping is apples with raisins or a pancake with Dutch cheese cooked into the top. This brings me to another favorite food here: Cheese. Even counting the money conversion, you can buy dairy products like milk, yogurt and cheese, cheaper in Holland than in America. When an American friend visited me recently, we went to the market every few days and sampled as much cheese as we could. We probably consumed 15 varieties of hard cheese while she was here.

Pancakes for dinner

(Eaten with stroop, or syrup and powdered sugar, toppings: bananas, and apples cooked into the batter)

toppings: bacon and cheese

Rounds of cheese:

Kibbeling (fried fish):

Another Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

2011-04-08T10:13:00.000-07:00

Today I enjoyed a bike ride along one of my favorite routes. It starts in the center city and leads two hours away. Loads of people were outside on ladders, repairing roofs and painting shutters. I snapped a few pictures of quintessential Dutch homes. I even spotted a castle! I also followed a narrow path into the woods where wildflowers peppered the shaded glens.

Lekker is How We Roll (Food part 1 of 3)

2011-04-07T03:32:00.000-07:00

You may have picked up from other posts that "lekker" means tasty in Dutch.
This post showcases my favorite foods. First, a disclaimer: If you do not have native Dutch taste buds, avoid salty licorice and raw herring.

Two Favorites:
Indonesian Delicacies and Satay Dipping Sauce

Indonesia was once a Dutch colony. Today, Indonesian tastes can be found well-incorporated into Dutch culture. For example, one of the more popular sauces for French fries is satay sauce (peanut sauce.) This seems funny because Dutch food typically has a conservative pallet. Recently, I was treated to a full-fledged Indonesian feast by my Rotary host counselor. Dinner began with a plate of simple white rice. The long table was weighted with at least twelve hot dishes. We passed the serving dishes around, spooning toppings around our rice. Some sample foods included grilled meat. Sautéed tofu. A piping hot pot of peanut sauce. Delightful pickled relish. Boiled eggs in peanut sauce and a fruit salad with a soy-sauce-esque dressing. The pairings of tart (relish) with mild (rice) and sweet (satay sauce) was grand.

Poffertjes

I have one word for the poffertje: Scrumptious.
Last week at the Amsterdam market, I watched the poffertjes man brush the hollows of a pan with oil, then drizzle in batter from a cone. When the poffertjes had browned, he swiftly flipped them onto the other side with a mini fork. I waited three minutes. The ten pancakes were paired with a slice of butter and given a firm shake of powdered sugar before I bit into them. Poffertjes bring the soul back into soul food. I wanted to stuff them in my mouth, but nibbled daintily (like the Dutch) with a little disposable pastry fork I was given. As my friend Zoe exclaimed, "They are little pillows of heaven."

It is not the recipe that makes the poffertjes. It is the pan. These small (about two inches across) delights are made in a cast iron pan with indentations. This makes them fluffy. I will be on the hunt for such a pan come Koninginnedag, Queen's Day, at the end of April. During this holiday, any person is allowed to ply their wares on the street. I am hoping an old lady wants to sell a pan. Nikki Giovanni, one of my favorite American poets, has an essay where she says a good cast iron pan is invaluable because it absorbs the flavors and stories of generations. I want such a pan.

Best of Times

2011-04-06T13:18:00.000-07:00

I only have two more months in the Netherlands--this glorious country. I will miss the people here, biking and market food.

How glorious it is to ride your bike for two or three hours through sheep fields, the sun gilding your back. How glorious it is, biking along the canal, wind on your shoulders. The sights: sheep, flat verdant fields, thatch-roofed A-frame houses, a shed with a blue door, a gaggle of girls wearing pink socks biking to lacrosse practice side-by-side. An elderly man and woman bicycling on a tandem bicycle. Cats hiding in a field, and windmills. When the sun shines on your bicycle, this country can be like paradise. There is no other place I would rather be.

Classes beckon, I enjoy time with friends, and the moments I am cycling through the Dutch countryside, those are the seconds when I feel most at home. Thank you West Virginia Rotary Clubs for these moments. I look forward to a lifetime of exploration and travel. It all started here, in Holland.

Pictures of perfect Dutch moments and images

The Bakkers Winkle! (My favorite bakery, where the scones are pieces of heaven, the jam is home-cooked and the hot chocolate is steamed milk poured over pieces of milk chocolate and white chocolate.

Flowers! (They seem like a Dutch invention--Holland imports more tulips than anywhere else)

Though rain is not a perfect Dutch moment, I have grown "used" to it. And it has not rained in over a week!

Eating raisin "ice" (ice cream) with friends

The first swim of the year (in a still-chilly-in-April Dutch lake)

Beautiful windmills and sheep

Dutch savory pancakes from the Pancake House (ginger, cooked apple slices and powdered sugar on one side; cheese baked into the batter and mushrooms on the other. Lekker! (yum)

The cosmopolitan baked goods of Amsterdam

First and third generation bonding over a bicycle. Ah.

Lekker

2011-04-05T05:05:00.000-07:00

The way to the heart is through the stomach. It is great having friends that also adore a fine meal. When my friend Zoe visited from America this week, we rolled up sleeves and cooked. The food was lekker (tasty in Dutch.)

Whenever I travel, one of the first things I think about is food. It is what I miss about home--mom's breakfast biscuits or spinach-stuffed lasagna. Food brings together new people and crystallizes relationships. Holidays are imprinted in my mind because of their epicurean delights. My Uncle Tim's oyster stuffing. Mamere's (grandmother’s) beef brisket. Her melt-on-your-tongue meringue cookies. My neighbor Rosalie's unbelievable Italian cuisine.

We put our hearts into food and recipes get passed down through generations. I am no chef. I like to experiment and never totally follow a recipe; sometimes this leads to cooking mishaps; nonetheless, I celebrate gastronomy (the art and science of good eating.)

Food is the lifeblood of society. How we prepare food and what we eat explains cultures and individuals. It indicates our health. It shows whether a society values local farmers or superstores. It shows how we treat livestock, and illumines whether we have a progressive or regressive tax structure.

America is being pulled from two directions. One direction says natural foods. And we are embracing local produce and bakeries. Another more vocal message barks, "buy pre-packaged items flown from a thousand miles away, dipped in chemicals, pre-sliced and sold in a plastic package, wrapped within a package within a package."

Living in the Netherlands has shown me another way to eat my food. There are still butcher shops and bakeries everywhere. Open-air markets abound. Ingredients may be found closer to their source.

When I return to the States I hope to continue eating healthily. I feel better when I do. If American cities had as many bike paths as Holland, and as many fresh markets, and more normal portion-sizes, I believe diabetes would diminish. And obesity would go the way of the dinosaur.

Sample Menu of things I cooked and ate this week:

Breakfast: Yogurt, cheese and crackers, most mornings

Lunch: Zoe and I dissolved sugar in crème fraiche (a soured cream)and spooned it over fresh cut fruit; served with a fresh spring salad with a balsamic vinaigrette

Dinner: (the best meal): Fresh salmon (boiled) with a marinade of cut-up orange sautéed in a pan with sugar, ladled on top; bok choy (Chinese cabbage), sauteed with garlic; brown bread; salads; another night: Haddock (white fish), sautéed with squeezed lemon on top, soy sauce-tossed, stir-fried vegetables; fresh spring rolls packed with little hand-peeled shrimp from the Utrecht market....

Dessert: Homemade lemon curd. I love this old-fashioned condiment, which seems to have vanished from U.S. pantries. It is a spectacular, sweet, tart, lemon spread, which is great on anything, from cookies to brown bread. When Zoe and I visited Amsterdam, we sampled a lemon-curd tart. It was lovely. This could easily be made by making lemon curd and spreading it over a pastry shell. Note: Curd-making is not for the inattentive (one must constantly stir it in a double-boiler so it does not burn.)Also, the ingredients are a bit decadent (loads of lemons, sugar and copious egg yolks) which is perhaps why people make jam more than curd. However, when I return to the States, I hope to make lemon curd again. The end result is worth the effort.

Climbing To the Top

2011-03-20T04:05:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite tourest-esque activities in Utrecht is climbing the Dom Tower. This tower is the highest structure in the city. There was a rule, which I believe still stands, where no building was permitted to be taller. The Dom has 465 tiny, curving stone steps. My calf muscles are still sore from the last time I climbed, a few days ago. The best part is not the winding steps. The best part is the view. Unlike many church towers, the Dom lets you climb to the VERY top and peer over. Enjoy the view.

(pictures taken by Robbie Leung)

Other Rotary Scholars--Amazing Gals

2011-03-20T02:28:00.000-07:00

The Rotary Foundation has funded the Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship program for over sixty years. With this funding, thousands of students from over seventy nations have traveled to new places. Our vistas have been broadened, taste buds shocked (by raw herring and salty licorice) and pleased (by black grapes plucked from the vine paired with seasoned Dutch cheese.)We have had trepidity over language trouble, been challenged by new transportation (my first day on a bike here I collided with a curb and landed beneath an outdoor cafe table.)We have been frustrated by sometimes tedious classes (European Religion in the Middle Ages...)and happy beyond measure meeting new friends who hail from around the globe.

In a time of increased inward thinking, Rotary sends students around the world to have our views challenged and opened. Rotary wants us to learn how others live. By having friends from around the world, we learn to respect and understand other cultures better, as well as our own. By talking about West Virginia at other Rotary Clubs, I am reminded how singular and unique my own culture is, and I am able to share this pride with others.

There are roughly fifteen Rotary Scholars from around the world studying in the Netherlands. Four are in Utrecht. We are all girls and we hail from different corners of the world. It is notable that we are all girls, since women are still not invited to join some Rotary Clubs.

Here I will introduce the three other scholars studying in Utrecht:

From L to R, Sayaka, Paula, Leika, Robbie. A night spent making Thai and Japanese food (Thai summer rolls and Japanese chirashizushi (a rice and sushi dish shaped like a cake) and making crafts.

Robbie: Robbie is sponsored by a Rotary Club in Hawai'i. However, like the population of Hawai'i itself, Robbie is truly international. Her father is from Hong Kong and her mother is from Hawai'i. Since her parents work in the hotel business, Robbie has traveled around many, many times. She went to University in California and Germany, and spent some of her education in a program called "Semester at Sea," where students are taught on a ship, and travel around, docking in different countries. Robbie is studying Conflict Studies and Human Rights. Recently, she shared with me a story of her father's upbringing in Hong Kong, how, at the age of nine, he went to work as a child, and how food was scarce. Stories like these keep Robbie grounded and remind me how blessed I am.

Leika: I start off talking about weather with Leika, and by the end, we are talking about constitutional law. Leika comes from Japan. Her mother is from Maine, though she has spent most of her life in Japan now, and her father is Japanese. Leika is brilliant. She can tell me anything I want to know about laws and courts.

Sayaka: Also hailing from Japan, Sayaka is one of the most friendly gals you will meet. Sakayak is studying water management in Utrecht as a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar. She is in her third year of a PhD program in environmental studies in Japan. Sayaka has three qualities she shares with Robbie and Leika. It is something that I believe helps define Rotary Ambassadorial Scholars around the world: 1. She is a great communicator and a good people person. 2. Interested. Sayaka is interested in the world, and engaged by ideas outside the classroom, like opera and orchestras. 3. Smart. All the Rotary Scholars I know fuse passion and compassion for the world with intellect. Robbie is interested in humanity; Leika wants to use the law as a way to bring justice to the world; and Sayaka believes in the power of environmental justice. She believes that by looking at water management we can help the world. And I? I believe in education. I want to do something to help bring quality education to the world. I believe the mind is the greatest resource we own. And so, the four scholars--Robbie, Leika, Sayaka and I--bring our visions together in Urecht, so, when we return to our respective homes, we can make a difference.

Waiting for Spring

2011-03-16T04:53:00.000-07:00

These days I have been drinking lots of black tea and espresso. I do not like the taste of espresso (which I always used to think was pronounced expresso...) I drink it for the caffeine. Everyone drinks it here and has their coffee black. You can tell an American by how much cream and sugar we dump into the mix--or maybe that's only me.

Lately, I have been
1. Star gazing
Holland is typically cloudy. Nonetheless, there is a fantastic star observatory and space museum near where I live. When one arrives at the museum, you can climb onto the museum roof. Here, guides have a special laser that can shoot all the way to the stars and point out constellations! I want to have one of those lasers! The observatory also features a giant telescope that is open to the public on weekends. The telescope is positioned in a room with a ceiling that slides open. Museum guides can tell one copious amounts on space and stars, moon and galaxies. Inside the museum, there is a video about space that plays on the ceiling. There are giant bean-filled cushions on the ground, which you lay on, to watch the movie. When I recently went star-gazing it was too cloudy for star-visibility, but I could see awesome craters on the moon through the telescope. And it looked like the moon had a serrated edge, like someone took a piece of paper and ripped it against the grain.

2.Picnicing
It is not warm enough for regular picnics, however, I did enjoy a rare meal outside this week. I had a swell dinner with friends, the three other Rotary Ambassadorial Scholars studying in Utrecht: Sayaka, Leika and Robbie. Sayaka and Leika are from Japan; Robbie is from Hong Kong and Hawai'i. We shared the cost of store ingredients and spilled our loot onto a blanket in the Wilhelmina Park--a park named after the former Queen of the Netherlands (she ruled during WWII.) At the store we purchased tortillas, canned corn, tomatoes, lettuce, hummus and cheese. We laughed and shared insights until the sun went down and it grew chilly. Our bikes were tilted against a tree, standing sentry over our little picnic.

3.Birthday Party-ing
One of my favorite things to do is to eat international food. The problem with me and Dutch food is that I adore spices and piquant flavors. And, except for a hint of Indonesian influence in Dutch food (due to the colonies Holland had in that country), Dutch food is bland. This is where my Asian friends come in! Recently, Leika, Sayaka and I threw a birthday party for Robbie. I made Thai summer rolls, one of my favorite dishes. I did this by wrapping mint, basil, cilantro, noodles, lettuce and carrots into rice paper, rice, pulverized into a hardened sheet, that softens and becomes clear when soaked in water. I made peanut dipping-sauce by combining coconut milk, peanut butter, lime juice and chili powder. Leika made a sushi cake. It was a block of rice, pressed into a spring-form cake mold made to look like a cake. She topped this gorgeous creation with shredded seaweed and fresh marinated salmon, fresh tuna and boiled shrimp. It was delicious. And Sayaka brought a fantastic vanilla cake sandwiched between layers of strawberry jam and cream. Lekker. (Tasty in Dutch.)
4. Classes

The pattern is eerily predictable: The warmer the weather becomes, the harder classes get, and, the more homework is given. Thesis time is around the corner. I still do not know precisely what to write on. Literature I have been assigned for this semester cover topics such as: 17th century Dutch painting, the Protestant Reformation, religious differences between the United States and Europe, the changing European identity, theatre in Shakespeare's day, gender and clothing and theatre, stereotypes and images representing the Netherlands in times of war....The topics are varied and exciting. Each day I learn a bit more about both the world and the United States. For example, today I read that the Statue of Liberty was a gift from the French...

5. Drawing
Watercolor paints are the perfect way to distract myself from university work. I did this picture in a few nights. The butterflies were the most intensive part to create. I painted each butterfly (about 50) on a seperate sheet of paper and then glued them onto the main picture.

6. Thoughts
I hope all are doing well in this time of world crisis. Disasters impact everyone. Some of us have friends and family in Japan at this time. Let our blessings be with you. And may the world find a way to create energy that does not destroy human life in explosions.

Peace.
Paula

Library Brightness

2011-03-08T22:35:00.000-08:00

Everyday, the Dutch librarians set out fresh flowers for assiduous students to enjoy.

I AMsterdam

2011-03-02T23:27:00.001-08:00

Friends and I in Amsterdam!

Though I am a short train ride from Amsterdam (around 40 minutes) I do not go into that city too much. When I did, yesterday, I was struck by the hurry and flurry of city life. Semi-small Utrecht made me forget what big cities feel like. Nonetheless, I had no problems finding my destination. Because of my love of art, I am impelled to see museums while in Amsterdam. Two museums, the Rijks and the Van Gogh Museum are right next to each other. (Here, Van Go is pronounced Van Ho, with the H being a back-of-the-throat sound that is hard to replicate in print.)A tip is to go on a weekday. The crowds are less. And, with a museum card, which costs 20 euros, you can see any museum for one-year in the Netherlands at no extra cost. Without this card, museum-going in Holland can be very expensive. I am struck by different museum charge policies in Europe and America. Some American museums are free, some are not. I always enjoy when they are free. In France, the museums are free to European Union students under the age of 26. At least in Holland we have the museum card.

I have been to the Van Gogh museum four times and never tire of it. Most of Van Gogh's more famous paintings, like his vase of sunflowers and self-portraits are in Amsterdam, which the exception of 'Starry, Starry Night,' which I believe is in New York.

Similarly, I adore the works of Vermeer. "The Milkmaid" is a favorite. Her skirt is a blue so vibrant it shimmers like liquid. In those times, all colors were made by hand. Apprentices ground precious minerals (like blue lapus lazuli) with a mortar and pestle until the stones became powder. Oils were added. And resplendent paints were made--paints made to last hundreds of years. Today, our paints do not have the intensity of color that Vermeer and Van Gogh’s shades possessed. I wonder if our modern artist’s works will last as long, since our materials are not of that old-time, fine quality.
(I would have posted pictures from the museums, but photography was not allowed.)

The. End.

Paint-Crazed

2011-02-28T12:28:00.000-08:00

As a kid, I sold art at craft fairs. Those times have past, but my love of paint is timeless.

There comes a time in the year, as all my former roommates will attest, when I go nuts. For paint. I paint everything--whether it is a lampshade or wall. This year, the time has come. I have painted most of my furniture by now. Some furniture was already here(I got permission to paint it from the Rotary club who I am renting the room from...), other elements of furniture were fished from the side of the road and strapped to the back of my bike. Some items are from the second-hand store.

Last year, I had the good fortune of procuring several tins of paint for free. This year, I had to invest in lots of paint. However, there is no investment worth more than brightening your room. Mantra: Brighten your room, brighten your life. I wish I had before pictures to show you what my room looked like. I don't. So, imagine the furniture either stainless steel gray (the desk), beige (table and chairs) or white (everything else.)

Some people might not like my flamboyant, riotous taste in color. It is loud. Clownish, and, fantastic. If you don't like it, close your eyes. :)

This desk was stainless steel grey. First, I painted the top yellow. The next day, I purchased a can of quick-drying paste (something like cement or plaster that the clerk at the hardware store helped me select.) I took a broken mirror in my room and broke it into smaller pieces, than I took a chipped blue plate and also whacked it with the hammer. Next I set the pieces of glass and mirror into the plaster which I set down with a spatula. Vwalla.

Making mosaics is a great project. It is fun and a good way to use cracked china in a pretty way. The best china to use is thin pottery or glass--so that it sinks deeply into the plaster. This was a large mirror that I decorated in red, white and blue--both American colors and Dutch colors!(Later I added yellow paint to match my desk...)

What else can Paula paint? Her table (curtains compliments of the second-hand store)

and all her chairs...

Boots!

Closet!

A door!

Another door!

And loads of paper butterflies flitting hither and thither

Some of my favorite items were salvaged from the garbage. Like the splatter-painted boots (which were formerly black.) And the dried flowers (roses and pussy willows) that I hung from this bookcase, as well as this great butterfly net. Another good decorating idea is to re-use cool calendar images, like the picture by Klimt 'Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer.' This is a cheap copy of the original, which commanded a stunning 135 million, more than any other at auction...Side note: I have seen the painting in New York; her dress is entirely festooned in gold leaf and it is simply gorgeous.

Another favorite item could have been destined for the scrap heap, also: scrap paper. This colored construction paper was used to cover my floor while I was painting since I did not have newspaper. It ended up looking cool so I saved it, and cut it into squares and taped them on the wall. (You can do this at home as an easy way to decorate a Spartan wall.)

This table was also an accident. I was painting my chairs on it and by default it ended up looking similar to this. I liked the look so added some more paint to it.

This is a picture of a corner in my room with lots of color in it.

Painting a table or hanging a sprig of dried roses from your ceiling is a great way to transform a room. And it is easy! To dry flowers, save a bouquet right before it reaches the wilting stage (roses work best.) Next, tie the flowers with string or a rubberband and hang them from a coat hanger in your closet, keeping the door slightly open so the flowers do not get too moist. This is what I do, but you can hang the flowers anywhere. Butterfly directions: For the butterflies traversing my wall, I used red and yellow construction paper and a black marker. I adhered them to the wall with tape. I was inspired by a National Geographic photograph I once saw where thousands of monarch butterflies were clinging to a tree in Mexico at the end of a migratory route miles and miles long. I hope this inspires your own artistic adventures. Happy crafting!

In a Day

2011-02-18T03:50:00.001-08:00

On a typical day, after a brilliant morning of classes studying Christianity during the late Middle Ages or European Identity, I hop on my bicycle and absorb the rare rays of sunshine striking my body. I ride to the Utrecht market, a happening place on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I love European markets--something about the small stalls and smell of fresh produce and fish. It excites all my senses.

I eat a marzipan frog (The end part of marzipan can be pronounced both pawn and pan. It is a paste made from crushed almonds and often molded into animal shapes. It is one of my favorite sweets.)

Then, I wander around the stalls. I enjoy a fresh-squeezed orange juice. I absorb more sunshine.

Admire shrimp

Look at the array of fish

I eat some kibbeling, deep-fried, piping-hot white cod fish that flakes apart in your mouth.

Buy a plant (in this case, a iris from the Saturday flower market)

Chill with a friend (Kim, in this picture.) Usually she is not in the stocks, we are typically drinking tea.

Perhaps eat dinner with friends, swapping heretofore secret culinary recipes (last night it was Sicilian lasagna trading recipes with strawberry pie and pesto pasta) and peddle home, wind attacking my face, before falling into a deep slumber.

Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T15:52:00.000-08:00

In honor of the holiday, the sky produced a spectacular sunset over Utrecht and bike stop lights were shaped like hearts! Happy Valentine's Day. From Paula

What Are You Doing Next Year?

2011-02-13T04:08:00.000-08:00

I guess I should be thinking about what to do next year. As an American, I believe this question carries with it more weight than for Dutch students. For Dutch students things are stretched out. For instance, they start university a year or so later than most Americans. They are given the flexibility to take time off from university or take longer to graduate without being penalized financially (though this is changing.) They work throughout their studies for movie theatres, dry cleaners, grocery stores. Then the government helps subsidize a masters. And they all have internships. Internships are a big part of the academic curriculum here. They are seen as great ways for students to learn what they like; and great work experience. They intern for museums, at law offices, for non-profit organizations. It does not seem as cutthroat as in America. During this time, they might take off a year or two and volunteer in South America, teaching empowerment through sports to children in a slum. They have a wealth of experiences. And then they are 26 or 30. Then they pick a career.

This is what I told my mom, trying to make her believe that it’s okay if I do not pick my career for life this autumn.

Recently, I spoke to a Harvard professor who I ran into who happened to be on sabbatical in Holland (we shared a cab and started a conversation…) She noted the difference in pace between Holland and Harvard. Granted, Harvard has a reputation for being high-stress. Nonetheless, she must be so relaxed in Holland. She is probably thirty or thirty-two. While being here, she has met a Dutch man. This woman has worked her whole life to get to the point where she is: a tenured professor track at Harvard. When I asked her what she looked forward to in the future, she mentioned the possibility of staying in the Netherlands for good and teaching here, she mentioned the guy. It seemed funny to me that she would switch paths so quickly. And yet, life is more relaxed here in a way. In Holland, the year is peppered with breaks, like fall break, for all employees. And people are required to retire at a certain age. In Sweden everyone gets at least a month off for summer vacation.

The point of that anecdote is not to suggest that I’m going to live in Holland (my rent expires in August.) It is merely to illuminate the harried pace of life we get into. Often, we have no choice. I am blessed to not be burdened with paying back lots and lots of money (due in large part to this Rotary fellowship.) Because of that, I can have a more Dutch-paced life. If I want. And so, I’m thinking about the amazing value of internships, of travel, of exploration. And, I'm keeping my options open.

Sweden in Pixels

2011-02-10T10:52:00.000-08:00

Sweden in Haiku

2011-02-08T23:05:00.001-08:00

1.
Men wear pink, blue, white
button-down dress shirts, and for
business, wear black.

2.
Women’s fashion is
black skirt, black shirt and fur hat
and sport tall black boots

3.
People:

a.
They are in good shape;
often walk near sea and woods.
They have open minds.

b.
Well-educated
with impeccable English.
Lots of blond people.

c.
Talk less politics
than the Dutch, though just as in-
formed about world affairs.

4. Food:

a.
Black bread sandwiches:
salami, salmon or shrimp
with lovely cream-sauce.

b.
Delectable small
Swedish meatballs. Pastries with
sugar and berries.

C.
Pancakes with whipped cream
and berries (for breakfast, lunch
or a good dinner.)

5. Country:

Huge for the number
living there. Looks like a Christ-
mas snow globe with firs.

Best Scenes:

8: 00 am: Heaps of bread in the bakery
1:00 pm: Light gleaming off ships and chunks of ice floating in the sea
4:00 pm: Standing on a bridge, watching the sun set behind the island of the old city
9:00 pm: Stockholm city lights

Journey to Sweden

2011-02-07T15:38:00.000-08:00

My plane flies over Scandinavia: snow-coated pines, inlets and islands stretch far as the eye can see beneath a blue sky. If you look at Sweden on a map it is nobly and filled with little curves.

I am going to Stockholm for five days during a break I have between semesters. I will stay with family related through marriage on my mother’s side. I am so excited.

We are nearing land. Ice-flecked water flows around the hills and little red houses crouch beneath the trees.

I rode RyanAir (a discount European airline) for the first time today. It was twenty-five euros roundtrip. I guess nobody wants to fly to Stockholm in February (besides me!)

It was a fairly easy two- hour ride from Eindhoven, a small Dutch airport, to Skavsta, Sweden. From Skavsta (the middle of the woods) it was an hour-and-a-half bus ride to Stockholm.

RyanAir is a service I would use again. They do not give free water and you must have printed off your boarding pass ahead of time, but the price is right. Also, you are only permitted one carry-on-bag (including purses) that is a smaller size than most airlines (unless you want to pay more.)

Another difference, is that RyanAir is has first-come, first-serve seating. You can pay more for priority seating, meaning you board the plane first and pick your seat; however, on a day when the plane is not filled, it is easy to get a good seat without paying more.

It pays to travel on a weekday (they say wednesday is the best flying day.) It is less crowded and there are more open seats. There might also be less airplane traffic and so planes are more often on time. My plane arrived twenty-five minutes early.

After the plane landed in the tiny airport, I exchanged money and hopped aboard the bus. It was the wrong bus. It was a charter bus for business men and women going to another Swedish city. Fortunately I de-bused before they took off! (Or unfortunately, they had good food on that bus!)

Now we are riding on the bus (the right bus…) through Stockholm. Some people wear wool hats with giant fur pompoms on top. It is the same temperature outside as in Holland, but in the Netherlands there is currently no snow.

Forest passes out the window on both sides. Sweden is known for their legends of dwarves and gnomes and tomtes, mythical little old men of Nordic folklore. They are also known for their extraordinary output of children’s book authors and whimsical illustrators. I can see how kid’s authors would be inspired by this place. It is blustery, cold, magical. The snow crystals sparkle. Welcome to Sweden.

Sweden in Prose

2011-02-07T11:36:00.001-08:00

One of the boons to living in the Netherlands is that I am close to other European and Scandinavian countries. This week I took advantage of that fact. I came to Sweden.

Trees stretch snowy throats up to the light,
frost lays lace over boulders,
a boat crackles through ice with her pointy nose
sails safe in their hold
waiting on spring when children will romp across planks
ropes knotting and unknotting in squares and eights
but for now the violets stay hidden like a shy child
while a roaring sun slips beneath a church steeple
reflection mirrored in the ice.
By the theatre the moon appears, sudden as a laugh
and thin as a lady's eyebrow,
a million stars hurry to their posts
on lookout until the sun rises,
melting the ice.

Birds & Bikes

2011-01-31T04:40:00.000-08:00

Holland boasts a profusion of bicycles and water birds. There are especially a lot of ducks and great blue herons. They are probably drawn to the canals and small bodies of water that pepper and stripe the landscape. Here are pictures of bikes, birds and land they inhabit.

Welcome to Utrecht

2011-01-28T03:50:00.001-08:00

I love my city, Utrecht. It is around 300,000 people. You can find all shops you need here, and at the same time, the city seems provincial (in a good way.) The only thing difficult to find in Utrecht is bubble wrap… There are brick streets. A series of canals run parallel to the road. My city boasts flower sellers, boutiques, bookstores, cafes. A haberdashery. The old shares space with the new: one sees modern stores like Apple and McDonalds beside buildings like my favorite tea shop, which is built below ground in an ancient stone cellar lit by lamps. Your tea is served in non-matching antique porcelain tea cups and your carrot cake is served on elegantly-painted saucers. Nestled in the heart of the city are some academic buildings. They mostly house the law faculty, and some of the humanities masters programs, like mine, “cultural history.” There are a few caveats. For example, everything closes at 5 or 6. This reflects the Dutch norm of working less hours than Americans. All in all, however, it is a charming place to live. I am a bit removed from the city. Most of my classmates live a stone’s throw from our classes. I bike twenty-five minutes one way to class. Everything is relative, however, and by this point in the year, the bike ride feels like nothing(even though my gear is currently locked on the highest setting…)I took these photographs yesterday, early afternoon. Though my fingers were cold enough to be wearing mittens, the sun radiated.

January and February Notes

2011-01-23T07:45:00.000-08:00

Hobbies

With the help of a nearby second-hand store, I am transforming my once somber room into a bona fide Paula Paradise. When I moved in, my room was drab with horrid floral curtains. All of that is changing. To start, I have new curtains. Also, I made pottery mosaics around a huge wall mirror. I made the mosaic with cement from a hardware store and broken bits of colored pottery. The colors happened to be red, white and blue, both America’s colors and Dutch flag colors. I have painted furniture. New posters and pictures adorn the walls.

Additionally, I have been getting more involved in Bikram yoga and spinning. My roommate introduced me to Bikram yoga. As a reminder, I bend myself into a slightly misshapen human-pretzel for an hour-and-a-half in a wood-paneled room heated to 105 Fahrenheit and then I go outside in the freezing cold, and then back inside where I take a hot shower.

Spinning is new to me. My friend Jitske introduced me to it. For forty-five minutes you furiously peddle on a stationary bike with dozens of others. The instructor is speaking in Dutch, but you follow the motions of everyone rising and falling and are able to keep up. A loud techno and pop beat thrums in the background and disco lights flash in the slightly-darkened room. The description sounds bizarre, but it is brilliant exercise and surprisingly rejuvenating.

Rotary Presentations

I gave my first rotary presentation last week and believe it was a smash success. I did not use a power point, though I have a jazzy one I made if I need to use it. The only sad part is that once presentations are through, I cannot get to know the jovial rotarians more. So far, the Dutch rotarians I have met are witty, genuine and kind. Genuine is a key word. Like most Dutch people, they say what they mean. There is comfort in that. Usually, they have nice words to say.

Academics

My classes are wrapping up. I will be excited to finish my last two papers of the block and start taking two new classes in February. My classes will be on "Culture and Identity in Europe" and "The History of Religion in Europe." After that block, I have one block left in which I write my thesis. I am still developing thoughts on the subject.

Social Life

At first, I found it difficult getting acclimated to the Netherlands, to feel at home. Despite the nation’s reputation for party-crazed-nights, most students I know stay indoors in the evenings. This sometimes makes it hard to meet people. For instance, to socialize here, you must have friends and then, they invite you to their homes. Fortunately, this has happened for me. My feet, which once felt in the air, now feel planted on terra firma. Riding a bike regularly, taking public transportation, buying cheese in a market, all of these things come easier now. Proost to that! (Cheers in Dutch.)

Protest!

2011-01-21T10:17:00.001-08:00

Today, classes were officially canceled for a protest. I took the forty-minute train ride to the Hague, joining Dutch students protesting university tuition hikes.

The Hague is the seat of the Dutch parliament and Royal Court. The protest was supposed to start in a field, across from the government headquarters at 1:00. By eleven, the trains were stuffed with students.

Students overflowed from the train station, winding in a enormous procession onto the field. Thousands, from as far away as Groningen (three hours north) attended. Portable toilets were set up. Stands sold food. Students blew into megaphones and on blue plastic whistles. I photographed banners, students, young and old, police on horses.The earth was soon dark and muddy from foot traffic. Police officers stood peacefully nearby.

A group of boys carried a large boom box onto the field. A thundering beat pulsed through the entire crowd, audible a ten-minute walk from the protestors. Dutch politicians spoke. A procession of teachers stood with studentes in solidarity. It was a thrill.

The tuition raise measures will be voted on in a few months; hopefully the protest will make a difference.

Berlin with the Dutchies

2011-01-17T00:47:00.000-08:00

I sometimes refer to my Dutch friends as Dutchies since saying "the Dutch people" is a mouthful. Yesterday, we returned from a week long class field trip to Berlin, Germany.

We visited 3-5 monuments, memorials, art and history museums a day. I would describe Berlin as not a very attractice city with a lot to do. There is a fierce abundance of gray, concrete and steel. My class is studying the different dimensions of the Cold War and so visiting Germany was a logical extension of our studies. To see East Berlin, Potsdam, pieces of the Wall and Berlin itself was fantastic.

Among other Berlin highlights, my class visited a section of the Berlin wall that is still standing and has been turned into a memorial and painted by artists from around the world. My fourteen classmates walked the city from end to end, our miles on foot supplemented by use of the train with our week-long public transportation pass. From the windows we saw wonderful murals and street art.

Pictures of the Berlin Wall (decorated by artists)

:

Most of the sights we saw--the DDR Museum, the Stasi Museum (the Stasi were the Ministry of State Security in East Germany, modeled after the violent KGB of Russia)and displays at the Germany History Museum-- revolved around Cold War events. When we were not seeing events dealing with Cold War oppression in a divided Germany, we were retracing the horrors of the Holocaust. Berlin is a city that refuses to forget. It has erected monuments, memorials and museums--like the Jewish History Museum--that confront a bloody history.

What I liked best about the Berlin trip was not Berlin. The city--the one from which my grandmother on my mom's side fled with her parents when she was three in 1933--makes me sick. And grateful. If my great-parents had not had the foresight to leave when they had (we are Jewish) then I would not be here. Berlin is a city of open spaces--architecturally. I felt a lot of hollow spaces inside metaphorically while I was there, too. The things I liked the best were moments that took me away from the beaded handbag with a swastika on it in the natural history museum: friends, music and art.

1. Friends
What I adore about my classmates is that I can talk to anyone for almost any amount of time and not get bored. Though we had a few talkers on board--people that talk like machines with no natural stopping point, there was not the cult of snobbery that seems to inflict many American youth. The national Dutch value of embracing the collective instead of the individual is manifest in the students who I have come to know and befriend. If they see you walking somewhere alone, they will ask, do you want me to come with you. If there are not enough chairs at a table for you, they will push together tables to make room. Are cliques an American invention? The ego does not seem as important to the Dutch as to Americans. They are not concerned with being right 100% of the time, they care more about the discussion, more about nuance. They don’t seem to see everything in black and white (as I often do) they think in more shaded terms (their political system has many, many parties, in America we have two main parties which can lead to people always thinking in a binary instead of a multiplicity of ways.)

Dinner and friends:

2. Music

The hostel we stayed in was within walking distance of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra,(Berliner Philharmoniker) under the direction of Hans Adler. One evening, my class decided to split up (we usually ate dinner together in sundry restaurants.) Upon departing from the train at ten til' eight p.m I saw crowds of people shuffling towards the Orchestra. I walked a few moments in the opposite direction towards the hostel we were staying in. Then, I pivoted and turned around. I'm going the wrong direction, I told myself, and gleefully followed the crowds into the concert hall building, where I inquired into whether any student tickets were still available. The ticket was only ten euros and I had prime seats, middle and center. The concert hall was bowl-shaped, with seats rising up from all sides. In the middle was a small floor with the piano where I listened, enchanted. For the next two hours I enjoyed the works of French concert pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet. When I bought the ticket I did not know who or what was playing. It became a night of extraordinary music by the Hungarian composer Franz Liszt, Chopin and Wagner (and a request for Brahms from a member of the audience.) I could not stop watching Thibaudet's fingers flit and fly across the keys. Two hours felt like forty minutes.

3. Art
My favorite art experience in Berlin was seeing the studio of Werner Brunner(b 1941). This visit was organized by my great professor, Joes Segal in our class on the Cold War. Werner Brunner's Studio:

Humor & Health in 2011

2010-12-28T10:02:00.000-08:00

Breaks are never long enough. I had two delays on the plane from Amsterdam to Charleston. I was caught in a snowstorm in Dublin, Ireland, and was held there for a night and another extra night in D.C due to plane maintenance (whatever that means!) I saw two people I knew in the D.C airport on their way to Charleston and we struck up good conversations(a benefit to living in a small state with a small airport.) Though my break was cut slightly short, I had enough holiday happiness to carry me through. While others yelled into their Wall Street Journals as plane after plane was canceled, I smiled pleasantly (only occasionally gritting my teeth.) And, finally, I made it home. I got a new camera and lots of treats. I saw a few friends and loads of family (I’m sorry if you are reading this and I did not have a chance to see you--as we speak I am readying to depart on the plane.) With my new camera in tow I am thrilled to start capturing more images of my adventures. For a while most pictures will look like this: white, white, white. Snow. Ice. Snowflake. Crow flying through a gray sky. And then…..tulips! Springtime, sun melting all the snowcaps to streams, people finally able to hop back onto the bike. I wish people two things in the new year, besides good food, family, friends, and adventures: good health and great jokes.

After-Christmas-Joke

Person 1: I’m on a diet
Person 2: What kind?
Person 1: A seafood diet. I see food. And I eat it.

-joke compliments of my Uncle Tim

Wishing everyone a happy new year, from the Charleston airport,
Paula

What I'm Learning (last in the "academics" series.) part 5 of 5

2010-12-17T10:30:00.000-08:00

I’m coming home in two days. I cannot wait!

It feels like a lifetime since I have seen my family. How have I changed? Well, now that I have a penchant for fresh bread, I will be frequenting Libby’s bread shop in Charleston, near the farmer’s market. It is a pity I have to drive. Might the new governor consider putting in some bike lanes with electric bike signs that are safe enough for children to use...?

Here is a list of 10 things I did these past three months:

1. Hosted a Harry Potter Party potluck dinner for my Dutch classmates
2. Consumed raw herring
3. Biked through days of Dutch rain and iced-over roads
4. Temporarily trapped myself inside an old Dutch army fort when the gate
locked me in and had to crawl through two sheep fields to get out
5. Meandered through Dutch limestone caves in the southern town of
Valkenburg where some Jews hid during the war and were liberated by the
Allies
6. Found a place to buy a bicycle lock that weighs more than my new bicycle
7. Spoke some form of Dutch, daily
8. Ate a Parisian crepe
9. Sipped raspberry beer in a jazz club in Paris with two of my former college
roommates and visited fantastic French art museums!
10. In Holland, kissed everyone I saw three times on the cheek—left, right, left

And my academic program is great. I came here to study European matters. However, it turns out that my professors are encouraging me to study what I am slightly more familiar with, topics that have a domestic resonance. At present, I am working on two American history topics. The first, is on the painter, famed for his splatter-style: Jackson Pollock. I am writing on his involvement during the Cold War and how his art was used and perhaps exploited to showcase American virtues of freedom during the time. The second history paper is on American female slave and ex-slave narratives and diaries. Charleston Public Library, here I come!

Making the Grade--Part 4 of 5

2010-12-14T13:30:00.000-08:00

Each morning my classmates and I lock our bikes to the railings beside the canals. We pay fifty cents for a cup of coffee from a vending machine inside the library (the other vending machine sells water.) We file up to class, unwind scarves, hang winter coats on hooks. For half the course we usually discuss readings we have been working on, do collaborative problem-solving and have group discussions.

In my Masters program there are four blocks which function like semesters. In each block we take two courses, each meet between once and twice a week. Class takes place in the old center city of Utrecht (a twenty minute bike ride for me--or rather, bus ride now, since I'm pretty sure my bike was stolen last night, unless I forgot where I tied it....)

One of my classes has five students. The other, fifteen. Class is usually provocative and interesting. Courses are between two and four hours long. If the class is on the longer side, we take a ten-minute break. At this point all students hurry to the restroom or dash outside, where they congregate by the door, smoking. There is no campus in the center city, so students hang around the doors of buildings, sometimes hours after class has ended, shooting the breeze and stamping feet to keep warm.

Dutch universities grade on a scale of 1-10. Ten is like an A plus, plus, plus. 9.5 is an A++, 9 is like an A+, 8.5 is an A, 8 is like an American an A-, 7.5 is a B+, 7 is a B, 6.5 a C and then quickly downhill from there. If you make below a 5.5 on a paper the professor might give you the opportunity to do a re-write. There is a Dutch saying about grading, it goes: Ten is for god, nine is for the teacher, and you might be able to make an 8…

Everyone studies differently. I’m a visual learner and like to spread out reams of paper in front of me on which I diagram. There are usually arrows, images and scribbles involved. Sometimes I pull all-nighters. Sometimes I awaken early to study. It is mostly eagerness that sustains me. If you want to do well, you have got to put in the work. Books do not read to themselves at night, papers do not have paper-fairies that write them. We (myself included) could all work a bit harder at times.

The Question (Part 3 of 5 in the "Academics"series)

2010-12-08T02:07:00.000-08:00

How does a Dutch university compare to a U.S.one?

A driving force in my decision to live in Utrecht, Holland was because of its flagship university: The University of Utrecht. A world college report had ranked it highly. In this case, the statistics were more than spot on. My faculty is extraordinary and the students, dedicated. One primary difference between a Dutch education and an American one is this: the question. To explain, in a traditional American education system, whether in high school or university, the goal is to relay the information most accurately. Repeat information and you get an A. In the Dutch system, they assume everyone will have the knowledge to repeat information. There is no learning in repetition; for the Dutch—and Europeans more broadly—learning takes place in conflict. So, to write a paper on the abstract expressionist painter Jackson Pollock during the Cold War, you should find some conflict in his life—someone that challenged what he said, or some artist whose work conflicted with his. The paper is in the tension. Whatever the subject is, you must find the force that worked against that subject. You present both sides of the argument, than, your paper’s job is to show where you position yourself within this debate. Presto. In Dutch papers you have to forcefully argue a position based on scholars that came before. This way of thinking creates scholars and people that innately go through life critically thinking.

Study Hours

Recently, I asked a friend where I could study (besides my room) during the evening. Cafes are closed after six and the library closes early on weekends. To this, my friend replied: "Get your work done during the day; we do not study at night." Even though I am learning loads here, the environment is more relaxed. Some students take several years to complete a masters degree that should take only a year because they take their time (and it does not cost much to extend their study.) I could get used to this (though, rest assured Rotary, I will finish my masters in one year!) :)

Grading the Students: Intelligence and the Cult of Personality (Part 2 in a 5 part series)

2010-12-07T02:18:00.000-08:00

All students in my program are Dutch, except for two German students. As a result, I am able to make friends that know the ins and outs of the Netherlands. My classmates and I cook together, hang out, take the train to various parts of Holland and drive to nearby countries like Germany.

My classmates are smart. The equivalent of American standardized testing happens early in high school in the Netherlands. The best and brightest go on to the top university of their choice. (If you do well in high school you can practically have your pick of university, unlike in the States, where getting into a great university is never assured, even with good grades.) In America, diversity of ability exists, even within the greatest universities. Here, no student shines above the other; there is surprising evenness of ability in the classroom. Everyone is equally intelligent in my class. In the Netherlands, they except students only on academic merit, no athletic scholarships (I can see why, everyone is insanely talented athletically…haha) and no legacy considerations.

Dutch students are much like American students, except I think they are more mature than American ones. For one, they are in university longer, but here, university life is not tantamount to the partying life. Despite the fact that this is Holland—insert whatever stereotypes you have for the country here____--most students do not stay out late. They have their own apartment, a girlfriend or boyfriend, a cat or a dog. They have a job. They do not go to many bars and go to sleep early, while their American counterparts (to generalize) are still hitting the bars at dizzying speeds.

Having attended many schools, I am highly attuned to the personalities of students, the gossip and cliques. There's not a lot of that here--the country is too small to have cliques I'm convinced. Perhaps graduate school is far different than undergraduate life. The students here are genuinely kind and surprisingly outgoing (which overturns stereotypes of the Dutch being cold toward strangers.) Before coming here I read a book that said the Dutch have deep bonds with friends extending back to elementary school and seldom open up to newcomers. So wrong. The acquaintances I make here will be ones I will keep for the rest of my life. Hurrah for new friendships.

ACADEMICS: Learning Here Part 1 of 5

2010-12-05T08:30:00.000-08:00

How does a person who loves everything pick what to study for a masters degree? At one point in my life, I wanted five or six masters degrees. I wanted to study myriad things in detail. And then I researched their costs. To be brief, I realized that unless your last name is Astor, you can’t have as many degrees as you have ties. Or shoes. For this reason, after my masters this year, I will put formal education to the periphery for a little while. I will save money and travel. I will work either domestically or internationally; wherever opportunity manifests itself. I am thrilled for the chance to do something beyond school for a while.

However, at this point in time I am hitting the books. I am studying cultural history, which, like one of my undergraduate degrees—American studies—many outside of academia have never heard of. American studies is similar to American history. Often it has a focus on cultural and ethnic history. During my undergraduate time, I studied lots of African American and Indigenous American literature. Cultural history is similar to American studies in that it aims to revive stories from the margins. It foregrounds history by the common man or woman. It is a stupendous program and is in its first year at Utrecht University. I’m guessing that only a handful of programs like it exist throughout the world.

Cultural history is holistic. I am learning about contemporary philosophers and historical theorists. The Cold War. WWII. Dutch resistance during WWII. I read articles daily on both international and domestic affairs. Lately I have been given articles to read on Paul Robeson, the House of Un-American Activities, J.Edgar Hoover, soap manufacturing and advertisement in 18th century England, fashion at the turn of the century, water management in the Netherlands and philosophers who speculate and mull over it all. History is the study of the world; I could not have chosen a more suitable and gratifying program.

Giving Thanks

2010-11-30T05:50:00.000-08:00

The occasion of Thanksgiving recently passed, reminding me to be grateful for so many things, a few of which are family, health and education. And, in a world where the latter two are hardly possible without money, I must give thanks for my material prosperity. For this Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship.

It is interesting the types of conversations I have with Dutch students about finances. They have far less expendable money than people I know in the States, and yet, they do not have to worry about paying for the things that cost Americans both arms and legs: education and healthcare. The Dutch government (which is becoming more conservative) is now raising the cost for a second masters degree so that it will be extremely expensive (by Dutch standards) to procure one after next year. Students are irate. They have always considered it a given that they will be able to get two masters degrees after their bachelors (practically for free!) It costs around 1,200 euros to get a masters here, if you are from the European Union. With a world-class masters program costing that much in the U.S, I could afford to save up for several. In America, I tell my roommate, I can regularly save up for new technology: a laptop, phone, camera, what have you. But I could never save up for a degree. Here, it is the reverse, my roommate does not have to foot the cost of a university education and yet she would rarely have the expendable money for a new phone upgrade or new laptop. And so, this is all to say, I AM GRATFUL FOR THIS ROTARY SCHOLARSHIP. Grateful, the word, hardly covers it. How blessed I am. I am also thankful for poetry, like the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Mary Oliver, who writes “Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life?” in her book New and Selected Poems. And, in this same vein, Oliver has another great quote, it goes: “Listen. Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?” Meaning, how much more could you be doing to have an amazing existence?

Lately I have been doing yoga in Holland. Running and yoga are somewhat of the antithesis of each other. For a bit of background, in high school and during my undergraduate years, I ran often. Now I am inflexible and have stiff knees which makes yoga hard. However, my Dutch roommate, Lidy, introduced me to a yoga class in Holland where you do yoga in a heated room. It is called bikram yoga. The benefit of this is that it is easier on your joints, they relax more easily— and you get a really good workout ( you are sweating before you even lift an arm.) After class you can walk outside on the porch and stick your feet in a bucket of snow-water. It sounds dreadful, but is really fantastic. For an hour and a half you stretch and do nothing but breath deeply through your nose. This breathing is also contrary to normal exercise breathing. While running, I breath in through my nose, out through my mouth. This breathing makes your more competitive and puts you into a gung ho, ready for action mindset. Like you want to win a race. Yoga breathing is the opposite of that.

Yoga breathing reminds me that there is an astonishing amount of space in our lungs for breath—the majority of which we never utilize. And so, too, we have manifold dreams that we never explore, a half-dozen ambitions we never speak out loud, a book of wonderful musings that we never bring to fruition or allow ourselves to dwell on.

It is an interesting time of year. Thanksgiving has passed. The Jewish New Year happened in September; (the time we give thanks and plan things we will do better in the new year) and it is not January 1st yet. But, today I will be grateful, and today I will take charge and take fruitful risks. Whether it is hosting a dinner get-together for my newfound Dutch friends, biking through the Dutch hillsides or exploring parts of Europe, I believe I will try to do something everyday that makes me a bit afraid, as Eleanor Roosevelt reportedly suggested everyone do with their days. I’ll try to remain on the edge. And remember to breath deeply.

You Know You're An American When...

2010-11-21T04:10:00.000-08:00

you have a credit card(s)
you buy enough food to last for weeks at the store and then realize you cannot fit it into your bike bags
you eat everything with your hands
you ignore the knife
you feel an affinity for McDonald's even when you don't eat there (they are one of the few places with a wireless internet connection!)
you loath Dutch bureaucracy, following rules, standing in line, and getting little slips of paper with a number on it that says wait
you walk in the bike lane
you are surprised by the taste of fresh bread
you put lots of milk and sugar in your coffee or drink cafe lattes (spelled coffee verkeerd in Dutch which literally translates to "wrong coffee")
you say you all and you guys a lot (which the Dutch consider very informal)
you wear sweatpants and a t-shirt to class and baggy pants if you are a guy (Dutch casual is less casual than American casual)
you suddenly find yourself craving the brands Skippy, Heinz and Hershey
you find it strange that at some pools they have a specific time when Dutch people can swim nude…
you think all Dutch people are extremely tall
you do not find it odd to eat cereal or a sandwich for breakfast, lunch and dinner all in a day (if you are a student...)
you feel the need to give presents all the time and buy lots of things
you use the words "university" and "college" interchangeably
you took a test (the SATs) to get into college (in Holland the testing takes place in high school, and you are then placed into differing high schools. If you do well at whatever high school you went to, you get your pick of practically any university in the Netherlands, with some exceptions made for disciplines like medicine.)
your biggest expenses are university and healthcare
there is a big disparity between the rich and poor in your nation
there is a big difference between "good" and "not-so-good" universities in your country
You "hook-up" or speed-date with people (Most people have steady relationships and do not change partners like American university students)
you wear flipflops when it is too cold to do so
you are afraid of public speaking and are awed at the debating, public speaking and rhetorical prowess of all Dutch people
people think you are fat before they see you (some Dutch people believe this from watching lots of fat Americans on TV)
Dutch people think you live like stars on reality television (the most common images of “American culture,” stuff from shows like My Sweet Sixteen, a television show about millionaire’s kids having extravagant sixteenth birthday parties, and the show Teenage and Pregnant, about well, you guessed it, pregnant American teenagers… )
you realize that you have fewer books than most Dutch families
you have never heard of the wonders of “hagelslag”

You Know You are Dutch When (you write you are, instead of you're...)

you know the term "pin it," because you only have an ATM card and not a credit card
you bike in a skirt and dress or suit and tie
you go to the store everyday and only buy enough groceries for meals for that day
you have never tasted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or if you do, find it odd
you think it is normal to see uncensored naked bodies on television
you always use two forms of birth control
you might think of getting married when you are 30
healthcare and university costs come out of your taxes for the most part and the government gives you a student card for most transportation and pays for birth control
you have a pot of orchids in your house
you have at least three bicycles in your garage
you will have at least one master's degree by the time you are twenty-six
you speak at least three languages conversationally
you drink coffee or tea at least once a day
you cut up your pizza with a knife and fork
you have a birthday calendar hanging in your bathroom where you record all important birthdays
you live in a small house or apartment (by American standards)
you have no car or a small car (again, by American perceptions)
you have a communal playground near your house
you biked to school and will bike to university
you only call elementary school and high school "school" (Americans call university "school" as well)
you were tested in high school to see which high school you would go to. Your English competency is sometimes better if you go to the higher level school, but everyone speaks English conversationally, if not better than many Americans
most all universities are made equal in your country, though some universities are known for certain programs, all universities are strong
you work part time or stay at home if you are a woman (this is pretty common)
you are a pragmatic dater (you think about the long-term and whether the relationship would work out)
you dress conservatively in the gym, covering up way more than Americans
you dress more conservatively in clubs than Americans
you wear a lot of black, white and grey
you do not make physical contact with people when dancing (in America guys are all over girls they have never met)
you are freaked out by hugs (you find hugging far more intimate than kissing three times on the cheek)
if someone tries to hug you, you turn to the side to avoid frontal contact
you play at least three sports
you have visited California
you want to have an internship in New York
you smoke
you know what “hagelslag” is and put it on your toast in the morning

Autumn Wheels

2010-11-15T01:35:00.001-08:00

Close up of bike wheel in leaves

Rock-proof baby carrier

Ah, this is my bicycle. If you go to the center of Utrecht around 5:00, you can buy flowers when the flower stalls are closing-up for the night. You get more flowers for less. This night I wanted a few sunflowers. Eager to get rid of their stash and replenish it in the morning, the flower sellar gave me about twenty-five sunflowers. The bundle was too unwieldy to bike with under my arm (what most Dutchies do) so I had to tether them to the back of my seat with my orange scarf.

Jewish bike. I found it sort of funny that someone left their yarmulke (the most commonly recognized piece of jewish garb) beside the bike on the railing overlooking the canal. One puff of wind and...it might have gone sailing

Yellow and blue contrast with bikes

Heineken is manufactured in Holland. I have not been to the headquarters, but they are located in Amsterdam. Heineken is the prefered beer here. Though I prefer wine, most young people opt for beer. Their parents drink wine with most meals. Wine is far cheaper here and it can be bought in greater variety than in most American grocery stores. There is plenty of wine that can be bought for two euros a bottle. (Don't worry Rotary, I drink in moderation. ) :)

Autumnal bike

Bike prank: One often sees bikes, still locked to the railings, that have been turned on their wheel or are hanging off into the canal. Each year they have to dredge the canals for bikes. I am told they pull up hundreds...

Fall-hued bike

Action bike!

I guess bikes are not permitted here...

Graffiti is fairly common in the Netherlands. It seems to be more artfully crafted than the graffiti I have observed in the United States. Most often, the graffiti appears on construction sites (the wood planks and scaffolding surrounding buildings) and not on the buildings themselves.

Suiker Addict

2010-11-08T03:56:00.000-08:00

Food can illuminate lots about the region it is served in. Belgian chocolate. French wine. Chilean sea bass.American…Sugar?

By Dutch standards, I’m a sugar (suiker) addict. It’s not my fault, I plead! In the U.S, sugar goes into food without our knowledge. When I bought peanut butter here last week, I discovered for the first time what actual smashed peanuts taste like—absent sugar. Then I realized how much sugar must be in American peanut butter. Probably a cup. Here, the contrast between food modified by sugar and the real thing is made grossly apparent.

Before Europe, I would not call myself a sugar-lover. Let me tell you about my childhood: whenever I went to birthday parties I was taught to ask for water and decline soft drinks, which were disallowed in my house; sugary cereals were off-limits (except lucky charms which I love, and were given as a treat.) However, to be an American, along with liking everything supersized, is to be addicted to sugar (unless you grow all your own food and make ketchup from scratch.) We cannot help it that everything we eat is loaded with saccharine—even the things we think are healthy. Think of all the ingredients on the label that you have never heard of…

About the only cereal here that I can find at home is Raisin Bran. And even that is different—bits of dried banana, apple and nuts compliment the flakes. And this: the raisins have no dusting of sugar. What!? No sugar? It never dawned on me that Raisin Bran could be any other way. I never thought about the sugar before. Afterall, I thought I was chosing the healthy option from among the likes of tasty Fruit Loops and Coco Puffs. Like McDonalds, who tailors their menu to fit cuisine norms around the world, Kellogs cereal also adjusts.

It is scary to learn something new about your taste buds: they have been conditioned to expect the sweet. I feel bereft without juice each morning (most juice we drink in the States is not even pure juice I am learning…) I load my chai lattes, tea and coffee with either a spoonful of honey or sugar. The Dutch do not put honey in their tea or sugar in coffee.

To an American (me), natural cereal tastes like dog food. We consider food with less sugar, diet food, and inherently less tasty. Not only do Americans put sugar in our food, but worse, all sorts of sugar substitutes of which only chemists know the composition of. Perhaps we eat so much high fructose corn syrup because the government gives enormous subsidies to corn, thus helping to negate any original nutritional content.

And you wonder why Americans are obese. Experts around the country are scratching their noggins, trying to come up with highfalutin solutions to one of Americans largest killers. The answer is comically simple. What would American’s average body mass index look like if every morsel of food had fifty percent less sugar? Or 100% less, as seems to be the case over here. At first we would cry a bit. I’m missing sugar right now. (As we speak I am sprinkling sugar over my cereal.) Eventually though, I bet our bodies would adjust. Wish me luck.

Autumn Summary

2010-11-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

This is an image of everyone crowding around the grocery store Sunday afternoon, waiting for 4:00 (called 16:00 here) when the doors will open. It looks like a party. People are ready to bust down the front door. The grocery store does not open until it is dark outside on Sunday. And that is only the largest grocery store in the area. No other shops are open all day on Sunday. You may ask, ‘But what if I want to cook a chicken?” Tough cookies. Sundays in Holland are quiet. And it is nice. At first I was frustrated, I wanted to go, go, go. Now, I appreciate the forced reverie. You cannot be frenetic on Sunday morning, you cannot do chores. Most Dutch young people do not go to church and most folks I have talked to are not very religious; however, a Protestant ethic influences many thing here. Even Albert Heijn—the largest supermarket chain in the Netherlands—is closed, except for a few locations.

Wind turbines on the horizon, spinning. A common site in Europe.

My friend Jitske making orange juice for breakfast. She is using an electric mixer; you can also use a hand squeezer which is easier to clean. When I first decided to make orange juice I made the mistake of buying the wrong oranges. Yes, that’s right, there are two types—oranges for eating and those for juicing. Now I know the difference: Get the green bag that says Perssinaasappelen. Try saying that ten times.

I’m clearly intimidated by the giant cow heads.

Lovely secret hedge garden in the North of Holland. The sky was a typical gray and rain was sheeting down, however, roses still bloomed brightly in the garden. Most leaves are off the trees now. The leaves her are a sad brown and yellow. They lack the luster of either West Virginia or New England autumn—the reds, golds, oranges. Also, there is no earthy, cinnamony, fall smell here. I miss jumping in a newly-raked pile of leaves!

This is a quaint wood-burning stove inside a café in Friesland, Holland. Again, that day it was drizzling rain and nothing felt better than this fireplace with a piece of apple pie and a café latte.

Taken during the same rainy day in Friesland, this shows a quintessential Dutch barn. It was built in the 1700’s and is still working. Note the roof: clay tiles. This roof, along with thatched roofs made from reeds are common in Holland. There is an abundance of clay here and almost all the homes are brick. Wood is hard to come by in this completely human-constructed country, where there appears to be mostly bogs and grasses.

Dutch style: I almost fell off my bike trying to take pictures of other people on their bikes. This girl epitomizes Dutch style. 1. She rides a bike. 2. Her right foot is raised, ready to speed off as soon as the light changes. 3. She wears practical flat shoes 4. A bike lock is looped around the base of her seat 5. Striped shirt. Today in class, four of fifteen people were wearing black and white striped shirts. I was wearing a black and blue striped shirt. What’s with the stripes? 6. On top of her shirt is a faux or real (probably faux since she is a student) black leather jacket that starts at her belly button. Also in vogue. 7. Side bag which is cooler to bike with in Holland than a backpack (note to self.) 8. A green purse is looped around her front handle bars. 9. She is eating a sandwich at the light (multi-tasking.) 10. She is blonde (a common hair color here.) 11. What is in her bag? To generalize I’m going to say, a date book, since everyone stays immensely busy and pencils in all their dates. And I’m going to guess she has two or more types of sport equipment inside since I have not met a single young person that does not do at least two sports (this does not count biking.) Rowing, jogging, field hockey, ice hockey, skating, swimming, rowing soccer, etc.

The Dom Tower: The tallest building in my town of Utrecht and my point of reference so I did not get lost for my first three weeks here.

Black sheep in Friesland. Zoe, my excellent friend at Brown, recently purchased an antique spinning wheel. I need to find some wool to send her…

Stone street flanked by a canal (most small streets are brick or stone) where I lock up my bicycle and go to class! My classes meet on the left side of the bridge.

Cheese in a wagon.

Cat inside a windmill. As for pets, it is common to have cats and dogs. However, you do not see stray dogs wandering, while you do see stray cats. There are lots in the fields, you see their little tails emerging from the high grass. I watched a show on television the other day that said in a cat’s lifetime she could have over a thousand kittens if not neutered.

Beautiful windmill

View of windmill from the bottom, looking up

Freezeland with a Friend

2010-10-29T04:02:00.001-07:00

This weekend I traveled to Fryslân as it is known in Dutch, or Friesland, the northernmost province of Holland. It should be called Freezland. Here is a short outline of our trip.

My traveling buddy was my fantastic neighbor, Jitske. I go to Jitske's apartment for tea, pancakes with apples and cheese in them (not together) and borrow her books. For her bachelor’s Jitske (pronounced Yitskuh) studied American studies at Utrecht University (my current institution.) I, too, studied American studies at Brown. We have some of the same favorite authors.

In Friesland, Jitske showed me her family’s working farm. The farm belongs to her grandparents, aunt, uncle and two teenage cousins who help run the farm on weekends.The cousins were tall (according to Jitske, Freisans are the tallest people in the world.) It is a hard task to run a farm. You can never leave for holidays. The farm is connected to the house her grandparents live in, a house that was built in the 1700’s.In Friesland I learned that the people are not as reticent as they are rumored to be. According to Jitske, they may not show their emotions much, but they sure welcomed me warmly. There was laughter in the grandparent’s cozy home, and tea. Always tea.

Five calves were born the night before we came and lay under heat lamps in the barn. Yellow and white buckets of milk stood by the door. The door of the barn opens directly into the house. Most homes in Friesland are made from bricks. Though not as common as in the past, small family farms can still compete and sell milk. Still, the price of milk is unpredictable and most families hope to break even. The cows are Friesan cows (that look like American Holsteins, though stockier) or Holsteins, which, are probably the best milk cows around, as Jitske’s uncle put it.

Thankfully the sun made a mid-day appearance. I wore my winter coat and two scarves. I still froze. Cafes are always good for this sort of weather, and we found one, where we both had apple tart (a common Dutch item) and a café latte (always served in a mug, not a paper cup.)

The skin on my cheeks was tested by the wind as I climbed over the cement dykes which reinforce the entire country and prevent it from floating away. Dykes are natural looking hills with cement on the side facing the sea and grass and grazing sheep on the side facing the town. It is said that at low tide (in warmer weather,) you can walk through the mudflats to the islands off the coast of Friesland and take a ferry back. However, it takes hardcore training to be able to walk through that thick mud for such a long distance.If you get stuck, you are stuck!

Holland is human constructed. Its land is assiduously maintained by government crews that pull weeds from the canals and repair wooden beams that buttress every inlet. It is impressive to think that humans created a country. It is a peculiar landscape for this West Virginian. Flat, flat, flat. You can see why many Dutch people immigrated to lands in America that were flat—a reminder of home. These lands are planted with corn fields and are spotted with wind turbines. On the way home at sunset, I saw a line of wind turbines behind a blue, fading to red sunset sky that made me think wind turbines were as pretty as Renaissance art.

The Friesan flag has blue and white stripes interspersed with red hearts. About a half million people celebrate this flag. Notwithstanding the topography, Friesland is sort of like the Appalachia of Holland. It is considered backwoods and backwards. When really, it is beautiful farmland with highly educated people. They speak a different language, Freisan, a language that branched out of Old English--according to one of my University friends. It is softer, more like cursive than the hard block letters of Dutch. The primary difference, however, is the pace. There is less hurrying.

There are about 195 windmills in Friesland. Jitske and I saw five windmills on a day when the sun made a halo around the blades in the frigid October air. We even went inside one mill that processed and sold flour (Jitske bought some cheese and pepper bread mixture for her parents.)With a curious cat and mill owner looking on, I hoped on a working scale (used for grain) to see if I had gained any weight while in Holland. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. In any event, it will all come off on the bike.

Born to Bike

2010-10-21T04:24:00.000-07:00

You learn to bike before you learn to walk—an old Dutch saying

A typical scene: A girl rides double on the back of a boy’s bike (she is seated on the small platform part on the back.) You have to hop on once the bike starts moving (a tricky maneuver.) A man dressed in a tux holds a mobile phone in his left hand, flowers flap from beneath his arm. Bags hang over his handle bars and saddle bags bulge in the back. A curly dog emerges from his lap. Ahead of the man, lovers hold hands while bicycling next to each other; across the street, a mom bikes insouciantly along as her little girl stands on her lap, pigtails flying. Stands! The child is protected from an errant rock or large gust of wind by a large Plexiglas shield. For a few minutes I am alone on the brick-paved street. Silence (except for the clacking of my low-on-air bike wheel.) Here comes traffic: A dad chugs forward, toting a large wooden bike wagon with a couple of kids giggling inside. I switch on my bike lights (a red one in the front, white one on the back.) The fixture which secures the light broke on the front of my bike a few days ago. I tried to superglue it and then just invested in 2 euro bike lights that are made to hang off the front of your bike. The back popped off one, sending my battery into a canal, making the front of the bike lightless. Now I’m just a phantom moving towards you in the dark. My white hat helps warn of my presence. You get the picture. To help delineate the scene, here is a great website: A man in Amsterdam took 82 pictures of bicycles during 73 minutes: http://www.ski-epic.com/amsterdam_bicycles/

Nobody Wears Helmets

Cars move out of the way for you, there are enormous bike lanes and dozens of people move in a parade of good health. With all this happiness circulating, one can lose their focus and crash. During one of my first weeks here, I must have gotten swept up in the general euphoria because before you knew it I was careening over a curb and soaring face first beneath a café table’s iron feet. Though I sustained bruises, my durable made in U.S.A jeans survived. However, not all accidents have such happy endings: Last year, my roommate biked into a car door as it was being opened, which gave her a concussion for several months. She’s better now and do not fret mother and father: I just purchased university approved traveler’s insurance. It starts October first. I’ll try to stay away from cars until then.

Biking in Stilettos

When I first arrived I was in the habit of changing into sportswear to bike the four miles to class. At home, biking is a sport; here, it is a way of life. You bike everywhere and wear anything. The anything usually being something nice. Americans wear a sweatshirt, t-shirt or running shoes to class, not the Dutch. Case in point: Five minutes ago I saw someone waltzing into the library wearing a sweatshirt. Gee, he looks American, I thought. Then he started speaking English to the librarian. Case closed. The Dutch bike in high heels or boots or long trench coats. Though someone might flaunt a bright colored coat, the color pallet for this time of year is decidedly depressing: gray, white, black, gray. At least it’s not as bad as Germany where everyone seems to dress in the color of the earth: brown.

Thieves

I bought the least conspicuous bike possible to deter theft. It is old and rusty. On average, the Dutch get their bike stolen once a year. Some people tether their bikes to the railings along canals (a common place to park) with two different kinds of locks. “Most thieves are only able to pick one kind of lock,” my friend said. Each day I pass hundreds of bicycles. Some are painted fluorescent green, some are coated with stickers, some are foldable and can be carried on a train for free (otherwise you must pay an extra seven euros to bring your bike on a train, but this beats the five-hundred euros it costs for a foldable bike…) The problem with a rusty bike is that sometimes things break. While vigorously parking my bike, one of the two giant springs under the bike seat sailed off. I seriously contemplated gorilla gluing it back on, but, then remembering my failed attempt to glue together my bike light, I shelled out the 20 euros for a new seat. An excellent investment.

Biking is Equal

Holland is as flat as a plate and easy to bike on. However, this does not fully explain why Holland has so many more bicycles than its neighbors, Belgium and Germany. Why do the Dutch prefer the bike over the bus and train? And even though cars are more common in Holland than they were thirty years ago, people still prefer the bike. There are nearly as many bikes as people: 13 million bikes and 16 million Dutch people. Maybe this is because of gas prices (called petrol here.) In dollars, it costs between 80 and 90 dollars to fill a small Dutch car.

Culturally, the bike is revealing: It reflects a people that are healthy and live longer than most people (not counting the Japanese…)It also speaks to a penchant for egalitarianism. For example, a car can be a status symbol. Conversely, most bikes are created equal. Omafiets, also called grandma bikes, are popular. They have a low frame, wide saddle and low handlebars. I haven’t seen many of these in the United States. In a country that prizes frugality, you earn points for saying you got your bike used or on sale. Furthermore, there is a belief that everyone has the right to transportation. Everyone can pretty much afford a bike. In the U.S. unless you have a car you probably cannot get a job if a bus does not go to your workplace, or you cannot carpool.

Bike Accessories You Can’t Live Without

Abbreviation key:
Can’t: Cannot live without
Almost: Can almost live without

1.(can’t) Lock—I brought an indestructible u-lock from home. I know it is indestructible because the campus police at Brown had to remove it with an electric saw when I lost the key.
2.(can’t) Lights—It’s illegal not to have them and they make you glow and feel safe.
3.(almost-borderline can’t) Saddle bags—these strap on to the sides of your bike. You need them for groceries and anything you decide to buy.
4.(almost)Basket—get a falling apart one or it will get stolen, or affix an empty beer crate to the front…I have seen this.
5.(almost)Rain cover—though you can manage without it, why not splurge on a bike seat rain cover: a plastic, elastic-fitted keep-your-rump dry contraption
6.(can live without, but should be included for the more aesthetically inclined biker) Spray Paint—there is a thriving trade here in spray paint for bikes. Gold is popular.

Goedemorgen! (Good Morning)

2010-10-19T01:04:00.000-07:00

It is 9: am my time, 3 am your time if you live in the Easter U.S. time zone. Good morning! Goedemorgen in Dutch (pronounced huda moorhen, except the h sound should be made in the back of your esophagus, like in Germany…) I have finished laundry, eaten breakfast, purchased the day’s food at the market, and am now seated in the library, finishing a paper, last minute for class.Beneath are the quotidian moments that comprise my morning, details that may interest you.

Breakfast: It is common here to make fresh-squeezed orange juice for breakfast. I still have to figure out where I can purchase oranges in bulk. Fresh-squeezed juice is a marathon ahead of the store bough variety. Once you have fresh-squeezed there is no going back! This past weekend I had breakfast at my friend Jitske’s house. Her breakfast spread epitomized the Dutch breakfast: simple, protein and fiber-rich and nutritious. Step 1: Start with a bowl of yogurt. Jitske had a great yogurt that tasted like a combination between marscapone cheese and yogurt. Rich stuff. Step 2: granola or muesli (a type of granola with fruit and nut nuggets in it.) There are no lucky charms. Sigh. Step 3: Toppings. Though I’m usually on the run and hurl a spoonful of jelly into my bowl, at Jitske’s there were dried raisins, and cranberries (in separate bowls), washed and cut strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and both Dutch syrup (molasses) and American-style pure maple syrup (nearly 12 euros a bottle here and hard to find.)

Laundry: I have a washing machine and no dryer (an electricity saver.) This is common here. Most people have a clothesline on their porch. I do, too. Today, it is raining. Though it does not rain here as much as it probably rains in England, we do get our share of showers—and keep biking through it. I’ll have to wait to dry my clothing...

Market: I have to get to the market before 8:30 so I can get to the library at 9--opening time--, so that I can snag a computer before anyone else, because I spilled water on my laptop yesterday, rendering it unusable for life. People buy food here daily; this is because the amount they can carry is determined by the size of their bike basket or backpack and because they want fresh food.

What I bought: Four types of cheese, which the cheese lady let me sample from her large white tent. (We have eleven varieties of cheese in our refrigerator right now. The we in this sentence is my Dutch roommate Lidy and I. Lidy is from the northern part of Holland, speaks excellent English and is a biology student at my university. Among the varieties that I know the names of are blue cheese, two types of goat's cheese, feta cheese, parmesan cheese, fresh mozzarella, old Dutch cheese and two types of gouda. Recently there was a lawsuit which made it so that only cheese of Dutch origin can be called gouda.Take that.hah. It is sort of like the way no wine except wine from the area of Champaigne in france can be called Champaigne. Pronounced shampahn here.) I digress. The cheese was then wrapped in paper for me. It now rests inside the cloth sidebags on the back of my bicycle. When we get a break during class I will use my paring knife (also stowed in my side bag) to whittle off a piece, which I pair with the yummy cluster of purple grapes I bought, and fresh rolls. I buy my rolls from a Russian lady that wears a scarf tied beneath her chin and mutters, 1 euro, 1 euro (in Dutch) as she shoves eight hot rolls of various sizes and types into people’s bike baskets. She pulls the rolls piping hot out of an oven that operates in the market square. Eight rolls for a euro, not bad. The problem is, they go stale in six hours. Guess I have to eat them all…I also bought lettuce and bell peppers.

Library: I am studying in Napoleon’s old palace. It is contemporary and white in the inside and looks a bit like Ikea (a Swedish-started chain furniture company that is absurdly popular here.) The library has a nice collection of English books and about thirty computers that are claimed within the first seven minutes the library opens. Except on Sundays, then you have a few more minutes to stake out a keyboard.And, then, off to class!

Dutch Culture 101: Brutally Honest

2010-10-11T02:57:00.000-07:00

One thing the Dutch despise, and Americans embrace, is a little white lie— what the Dutch would call being two-faced. We don’t always mean to be this way. For example, instead of saying what we mean, we sugarcoat, or sidestep the point. If you look like you haven’t slept in days I might not say anything to be polite. The Dutch will look you in the eye and say, “You look like Hell.” The truth hurts. In a good way. The Dutch tell you exactly what they mean. At first, they can be blunt to the point of rude. But then it becomes refreshing. You do not have to worry about offending people here. They will actually be offended if you try not to offend because then it seems like you are concealing your true feelings (which you probably are.) Be honest.

Case in point: When I first arrived, I stayed with a Dutch rotary family for a few days. The wife said to me, “We were surprised. My husband and I thought you would be fat.” They watch a lot of television where American shows often air like The Biggest Loser and My Sweet Sixteen and Teenage and Pregnant. As a result, they think all Americans are pregnant, rich and fat. There is something to be said for this, after all, you hardly ever see a fat person in Holland (how can you be fat when you have to bike everywhere…) and, America’s teen pregnancy rates are far higher than those in Western Europe. And, Americans are generally more ostentatious about our wealth—bigger houses, larger cars. But, I digress. The point is that my host mom was honest. She said what she had been thinking. Her honesty allowed me to see a window into how the Dutch perceive Americans. And, facilitated this post.

Wine and All That Fall Jazz

2010-10-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

Today was a glorious autumnal day. October. Crisp, apple air. Everyone was bustling out and about in the community garden five minutes behind my building. People rent plots throughout the year. Little huts or greenhouses are constructed on most people's tracts. Today, after an afternoon jog, I stopped to meander on the gravel paths that bisect the acreage (most plots are surrounded by wood gates.) I stopped for a few seconds to admire someone's canopy of grapes. An older man emerged from the hedges holding a pair of pruners, an enormous crate of green and purple grapes for wine-making lay at his feet. He worked in the government. He spent time outdoors because even the hard work of keeping birds and insects from the crop was a welcome reprieve from being inside. Holland is not known for their wine. They have access to an abundance of inexpensive and high quality wines from Italy, South Africa and everywhere in between, but, the Netherlands does not have many wineries. The man I spoke with said he was the only person in Utrecht who makes wine in semi-large quantities. I left with a bunch of grapes, a present. Wine is not ready until July. Until that time, it ferments in giant glass casks.

Dutch Digs

2010-10-09T02:55:00.000-07:00

2010-10-03T10:53:00.000-07:00

DUTCH MARKET

Oyster

Cap tucked over face
hand pries--
knife slides,
shells clack-clack on top of each other
in gray heaps

she plucks out oyster
face up,
offers it wet in her palm:

shells clatter on top of others
in gray heaps

Cheese

The market tables slump
beneath the weight of cheese
bound in wax and string,
yellow and red, tasty, cold.
How do you know which goat’s cheese
is best? There are eighty-five
kinds. And, how do you know
which brie is best? People here
know their cheeses and wine.
Don’t bring a random bottle of wine
as a present I am warned,
they will know if it is cheap.

Vases

Are each a foot high. I bartered
and haggled them down to six
euros a piece in the old Dutch
market,
swathed them in
newsprint,
cradled them home like
babies.
They were made in
1823, says one stamp
on the clay. They are antiques,
I have studied bottles,
I know how to spot
a fake. These
are
real.

Introduction to the Netherlands via Canal

2010-09-19T10:15:00.000-07:00

Differences: Mammoth & Minute

2010-09-12T05:06:00.000-07:00

The washcloths are little cloth bags with drawstrings you can put your hand inside. They don't have flat, one-sided wash clothes

Cereal is not popular for breakfast, except muesli, which is sort of like granola

Dutch folks eat yogurt with cereal more often than milk

Biking is the most common form of transportation, though most families do have at least one car. They only use them for long trips though (an hour or more.)

Most kids I have seen are blonde

Dutch families like to cook frequently. Most meals are homemade. Both husband and wife usually help each other prepare the meal, one cutting, the other stirring. The husbands or sons do the dishes. "It's a matter of educating them," one of my rotary hosts told me when I stayed with her family a few nights back.

Not as many wives work as in America. If they do, they usually work part time. They are more liberated than most American women because the society here is more egalitarian. However, the culture believes that someone should be home to watch the kids, and, the women here are usually happy to do this, and have time to garden and go to the myriad clubs and social groups they are apart of. It reminds me of America and the 50's (except the women have equal rights.) The social fabric is tightly knit. Mothers are very hands-on and support social programs for kids.

Community still exists. There are free community clubs, like singing groups and orchestra groups, sailing clubs and community soccer, football and basketball teams. Anyone in the community can join. Playgrounds are everywhere and little parks. Every evening dozens of kids come to these playgrounds and have fun. Within a mile you will probably see six to eight playgrounds. Instead of having an isolated playground in your own backyard, Dutch families usually have tiny backyards, this forces kids to meet other kids and create a sense of community. Parents come and push children on swings each night. They mingle with other parents.

During lunchtime, children bike or walk home to school (they are that close.) Mom's bicycle to school and then bike back with their children so they can eat lunch together.

In other ways, Holland reminds me of America in the 50's: no people are fat. And, as I mentioned, all the kids play outside all the time. Also, as I previously mentioned, families cook their own meals. There is very little packaged food here. Bread is bought fresh each day. (There is a bakery in every town, within five minutes walking.) Meat is slaughtered locally, cheese made nearby.

Another difference I like about Holland is the amount of color. Doors are painted red and blue. Even nursing homes have brightly colored doors and yellow wood window boxes. Green steps.

Week 1-scams, rotary hospitality and cheese

2010-09-04T09:40:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,

Bike? check
Apartment? check
Food in refrigerator? check (two types of Dutch cheese and Dutch peach yogurt drink...)
Euros in my purse? check.
Passport? Check.
Friends made? check
Hospitable people encountered? check
Have I gotten lost at least twice each day? check
Have I, at the same time, made every appointment I needed to make? check

A week has passed and everything here still feels new. After losing enough money in a housing scam to buy a new macbook pro in the first week, I was homeless. Fortunately, benevolent Rotarians looked out for me and I was able to stay in their homes. Yay Rotary network. The Dutch rotary folks are as kind as the WV ones. They have been keeping an eye on me. They took me to the police so I could report the housing scam, and, then helped me find housing in Utrecht, one of the most difficult cities in the world for housing. Speaking of housing, I would like to share a few tips on my experience:

WHEN RENTING IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY

1. Always have someone go knock on the door of the place you are renting and check it out for you. Otherwise, the place might not exist.
2. Never send money over the internet.
3. I told you to never send money over the internet when renting housing in a foreign country, but particularly never give more than a one month down payment and deposit. Never pay lawyer fees (this is probably a scam, and, if the person says they are on holiday in another country, watch out for this.) Also, never send money via western union (money cannot be tracked this way.) Use a bank account.
4. Stay with friends or in a hostel until you yourself can personally go to the place you want to rent so you can check it out.

So, now I am in a stellar apartment (which I am renting from the Rotary club in Utrecht.) I have my own bedroom and sitting area (in the same large room) and share a kitchen and bathroom with another Dutch student who is my age and from the northern part of the country.

I would post pictures at this time, however, I cannot. I left my camera charger in one of the three family's homes I stayed in last week. I still need to find it...

Food is an essential part of any traveler's experience. In the following posts I will include one section on food.

DAIRY

It is easy to see why (according to a Dutch person) average Dutch males are 6 1' and women usually equally tall. Dutch refrigerators burst with cheese. Markets sell hundreds of varieties. The cheese is sharp, much stronger that I am accustomed to. Yogurt is eaten with everything--poured over cereal in the mornings; drizzled over frozen fruit for dessert, drunk in a liquid form for snacks. And then there is the milk and ice cream...milk is far cheaper here that in the U.S. fifty-two cents for a half gallon. (Even if you make the conversion from euros to dollars it is cheaper.) And ice cream is everywhere, dozens of varieties eaten in little waffle cones by old and young alike as they peddle past on their bicycles, baby in the back, cellphone in one hand, flowers in a shopping bag over the bicycle handle bars, ice cream in the other. Yay for cows...Speaking of which, black and white spotted dairy cows are everywhere in Holland--beside the schoolyard lounging in pastures, in fields by canals, along the highways. They are beautiful.

Stay tuned, my next three posts will talk about the real Dutch families I stayed with, their quirks, what their homes were like, their food and hospitality.

Doei! as we say in Dutch (Pronounced, 'do-we') or, goodbye!

P.S
I am still in school orientation. I begin classes next week.