| I just got this from a friend. It's one of these forward-to-so-and-so-number-of-people-and-your-wish-will-come-true emails. Well, I'm not going to do that, because I don't want to select who is a friend, and who is not. But if you're reading this, you must be, or at least could be. Which means "my true love" won't appear at midnight ... ...but I have friends.
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Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Friday, December 22, 2006
"True friend"
Friday, September 29, 2006
Blogging
‘It's one of the singular features of our little social-technological moment that people all over the world whom we otherwise would never even be aware of can effortlessly impinge upon our minds and lives and desktops. We probably see fewer people in person these days, but our lives are populated by an entire chorus of disembodied presences, amplified and directed by the Internet, as if we had all begun to suffer from a mild form of schizophrenia.’
Lev Grossman, 'My Mortal Enemy’, 25 Sept. 2006, Time
Though, now and then there are certain news that just need to be reported on, like the ones about to follow.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Lady in the train...
It was only when I looked up again that I realised she was crying.
Before I sat down diagonally opposite her I nonchalantly gave her a smile, the kind of smile you give to strangers on the train who you happen to be sitting with. I dug into my sandwich, and the magazine I had with me.
A few moments later I looked her, and from the bottom lid of her eye a big bead of teardrop fell and dampened her white blouse. It was then I realised she was crying. I felt 'guilty' for not having noticed it before. But I didn't want to stare, so looked down again, fumbling nervously with my cheese, ham and buns. At first, like the self-conscious and self-critical me I am, I thought that perhaps it was something about me that smelt bad. From her her swollen and reddened eyes, I realised then why it was that the lady had her hand across her nose.
Though for the ten minutes or so until my stop I felt uneasy sitting there, so close to a middle aged lady who was obviously very hurt. Tear drops didn't stp falling, and she stared with dead eyes out of the window as the morning sun shone inward. Cows, fields, forests and canals flashed by, but their beauty did nothing to soothe her pain. I glanced up at her, pretending to be uninterested and blind to her tears, but deep done I was concerned, concerned a fellow human being was suffering in silence.
I wanted to say something to her, to ask her if she was alright. I wanted to tell her that whatever it was that was hurting her, that was making her cry will pass. I wanted to tell her that sadness, like happiness, and all other feelings and things in life, will come and go, come and go.
But I didn't dare, and my shyness got the better of me. I kept my thoughts to myself, my concern for a fellow human being in need hid within me, because I was scared that maybe she'd react with hostility toward me butting into her life. Was I uncaring and less of a person because of that? Or has society reached a stage in which seeing a stranger cry is better dealt with by pretending not to see? The passenger sitting right next to the lady slept. Or perhaps pretended to sleep.
A few moments before the train arrived at the station, she gathered her bags and wiped her tears one last time. She excused herself as she stood up and brushed against me slightly and made her way to the door. I soon got off the train too. Amid the crowd of travellers I found her again, walking out of the station, with a heavy bag of documents in hand. I only saw the back of her head, but I imagined that her eyes were still swollen, that her eyes were still red.
And soon she vanished in the crowd. But my thoughts stayed with her, as I too was lost in the crowd.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Wereldhavendagen 2006
Braving gale force winds I stood on the Erasmusbrug and watched the evening spectacle of this year's Wereldhavendagen (World Harbour Days). Each year, the Port of Rotterdam opens its ports and gates to visitors and numerous festivities and excursions so that ordinary people can explore the Europe's largest and busiest seaport.
The port and the city are alsmost inseperable, and have a history closely tied to the Netherlands' economy and life. The majority of goods that arrive and leave the country go through the harbour, which is connected with an extensive network of railways and roads. Rotterdam itself is a modern city, and the only one in the Netherlands with a skyline of skyscrappers to speak of. 'Thanks' to the Germans who bombarded the city and its strategic harbour till Netherlands capitulated during the Second World War, Rotterdam has had to rebuild itself almost from scratch within the last couple of decades. No wonder this harbour-city with its international connections as well as connections with the rest of the country, is the pride and joy of the city. And the events this weekend celebrate that sense of nostalgia to the past when cruise ships moored on the docks, that sense of achievement you can clearly see when you see the tall skyscrappers compete with giant girafe-like cranes, and the sense of hope as the harbour and the city plans to develop into the future.
Laser lights, skylights, neolights boomboxes and ear-deafening music ushered in the evening's programme at 9pm sharp. The crowd was scarce at the time, perhaps deterred by the overcast skies, and, as soon as I stood still for a couple of minutes to take in the music and light show, the strong, strong winds. At times I couldn't stand still, since the sea winds were so fierce and unrelenting on the bridge. I felt a headache start to creep. I felt myself dread pessimistically the likelihood of me having to wake up in the morning with a sore throat and the beginnings of a cold. Forturnately as I left the house earlier on I decided against wearing just a T-shirt and wore a light-blue turtle neck sweater instead. Couples hid behind each other, embraced one another to keep warm. I embraced the wind that seeped through and triggered goosebumps and slight trembles.
There were different shows, each with very different characteristics. A wonderful 'dance of the cranes', as the gigantic steel storks turned their cumbersome bodies and seemed to gyrate on the spot to the beat of the music. With their massive 'hands' they dug into the river Maas and hoisted tonnes of water into the air. When releashed the water shed like a beautiful shower, sending vapour and moisture plummeting to the river below like a trickling waterfall. Colourful lights shone on the water made it all the more dazzling.
Then there was a choir singing so traditional Dutch hits, most about the life and drudgery of a sailor, about the goodbyes, the longings and the loneliness at sea. To contrast, a live DJ mixed and blasted disco and techno songs into the nightsky, this time with spiralling lights and flashing lasers as the dancers in the air and on the surface of the sea. I stood and could not keep my body from wriggling a bit to the beat of some remixes of songs I liked.
Rounding off the evening, the longest display of fireworks I've ever seen, projecting multi-coloured flashes and deafening explosions into the sky from a barge in the middle of the
river. I was bedazzled by the ever-changing kaleidoscope of shooting stars, giant balls of sparkling fairy dust, eliptical wheels of purple and white, rockets and missiles that soared up into the heavens and exploded with a loud sounding bang, leaving a trail of dense fog and smell of gunpowder. Soon I forget all about the cold, all about the pain of having to stand almost two hours.
Because it was worth it.
Go to my travelog for more pictures!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Boat, museum and party (abr)
Woke up with a terrible headache this morning, and still feel a bit sick. I don't know if it was that glass of Heineken I drank yesterday, the nuts, olives or airline sandwiches, but ever since this morning I've been having this terrible feeling of dizzyness and like there's air in my chest I can't get rid of. When I breathe hard, the back of my neck hurts and my chest feels compressed.
I blame it on the beer. Frankly I don't like beer, and it's been years since my last 'pint', until yesterday that is. I don't know what posessed me to drink something that makes me want to throw up and pee all the time, and feel all gasy and nauseous afterwards...I guess when all the guys were drinking it, I sort of 'had' to too.
Since today's programme didn't start until noon, I could lie in a bit, which helped get rid of the nauseating feeling, if only a little bit. Picked up our 'packed lunch', packaged in a green paper bag, the contents of which look like they managed to skim off the left-overs of KLM's (Royal Dutch Airlines) on-board catering service.
Met some more people, all on the same course I'll be doing. And that was pretty nice, since for the day I basically had company and people to talk to. We did a boat trip, cruising around the canals and lakes around Leiden. This ancient city is shaped like a star and surrounded by moats. It was here that resistance against the Spanish (Catholics) was staunchest. For the sake of religious freedom and freedom of expression, the citizens of the town refused to cave into a siege in 1574. As a token of appreciation was rewarded with a university in that very year by William of Orange ('Father of the Netherlands'). That university is Leiden University, with the motto Praesidium Libertatis, (‘bastion of freedom’) on the emblem. And I'm now a member of that bastion.
Old(er) students and professors of Leiden include Rembrandt van Rijn (painter), who never actually graduatlly and registered for the sake of getting cheap beer as a student (believe me beer is definitely not the reason why I'm studying here). The Dutch Royal family has traditionally gone to this university too. Rumour has it that during the years when our Crown Prince William Alexander, who is reputed for being a bit...slow, the tradition of publishing everyone's grades in public disappeared. Einstein taught here a while (there's a pub named after him), while Kamerlign Onnes was won the Nobel Prize for Physics for achieving the lowest temperate possible (absolute zero). My law faculty buidling is named after him, and located in the very building where he conducted the experiment. Then there's Huygens, who invented the telescope, and has a space probe named after him. Then there's the likes of Spinoza and Descarte, who escaped to Leiden on account of its libertarian values and freedom of expression. I doubt I'd come close to what these great people have achieved in my lifetime, but it's something to mention when people ask me in the future why I chose this uni as my own. I guess.
A museum visit was also part of the tour, and we were taken to Boerhave Museum, named after the physician who introduced natural sciences as key to the study of medicine in Europe. Besides the famous Huygen telescopes and clocks, the sight of numerous 'pickled' feotuses, ovaries with a fertilised egg, fingers of young children, skinned snakes, inner ear of a dog, drawings of a disected woman carrying a baby, real skeletons of human beings, cats, elephants, horses and a turkey were not all that appealing. Especially when I was already feeling like throwing up the whole day. Dinner was immediate after the museum. I waited at least an hour before I could take a bite and swallow.
It was a bit silly how they organised the programme. By five we were ushered into the canteen and fed. The next event was the party at 10pm. Five hours to kill, in a town, in a country where shops are few and close at 6pm sharp. A bunch of us, three guys and two girls, all on the same course, sat around, got to know each other better, lurked around the empty streets a bit more, sat at a cafe and chatted the hours away. It was surprisingly relaxing, and we were pretty much on similiar wave lenghts, so I had a really good time. [...]
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Starting 'school' (abridged)
Woke up this morning a little before 7, and it was the earliest I’ve woken up in months. A laid-back life of being a bum gets you…laid back. Didn’t get too much sleep last night, since, well, ‘worry me’ lay in bed and had thoughts running around like crazy trying to picture what’s going to happen today.
Showered, got dressed, got beautiful, and got out the door. Sat in the train with a bunch of commuters trying to get a shut-eye, or open their eyes into through papers. It’s been over two years since I felt I was part of a community—a community of commuters with a purpose and a destination. Though by the looks of some people’s haggered faces and sad expressions, some may feel less like they have a purpose in life, let alone at work.
Arrived at the place where we were supposed to gather, only to be intimated by a crowd of around 100 people standing around, surrounding by a slight drizzle and the background noise of general chatter. They were doling out tea and coffee, so I got myself one, to keep warm, and keep my hands from fidgeting from nervousness. I don’t function well in crowds. Glanced around, looking for a place I can ‘butt in’, but everyone seemed so engaged in their little groups and conversations already. There were a couple of others who hadn’t managed to mingle yet, like me, and I wondered if they were as nervous as I was. Stood around a bit, thinking what a great way to start.
Then we got divided into smaller groups, according to our studies. Phew, I thought. Much better, since you know then the people walking around with you are going to be your classmates. One thing you have in common, one common topic to break the ice. Once that ice is broken, I guess the conversation just rolls from there…where are you from, what were you doing before, where, smile, why, how, when, smile, listen, talk, relate, answer, ask, smile.
The tour itself was alright, though our group was a little left out. You see, I’m going to be doing a Masters in Public International Law (LLM), and at this uni there are two courses of that: there’s one which is so-called ‘advanced’ LLM, because it offers more choice and better facilities and services, and then there’s the ‘normal’ LLM—the one I’ll be doing. The difference between the two? Oh, only around €10,000, give or take. No surprise why I’m doing the ‘normal’ one.
And from the moment go the differences in treatment were clearly visible. The ‘advanced’ people were taken away for an exclusive meet-and-greet with staff over coffee and a choice between apple pie, chocolate cake and cookies. We were told to hang around and wait to be picked up. There was coffee to be fair, but no pie, or given the choice, chocolate cake.
I guess the time we were ‘abandoned’ to wander the corridors of our new faculty was a welcome opportunity to mingle, meet and greet more people. And I guess it went pretty well. There are lots of Americans and Brits on the course, and all the rest are from the rest of
All the new people had a welcome address from the Rector Magnificus (Latin for ‘head rectum rector’). Whenever that name was said a bunch of people burst out laughing. Not too much exciting news there, the usual why-this-university-is-so-great, how-privileged-you-all-are-to-be-the-select-few, and well-wishing for our future studies, because frankly we might not even get to see him again. Then this academic coordinator came up and started going through the list of (almost) all the countries in the world. The point of the ‘game’ was whenever a country is mentioned, people from that country should stand up, and he’ll try his best to say ‘hello’ in that country’s language. The first, being ‘G’day’ (
But it wasn’t the end. We were treated to a ‘movie’, made probably more than a decade ago, about
And that wasn’t the end either. Another lady came up and gave us a lecture on ‘culture shock’. Generalisations of course, but having lived here for years and years a lot of these things I can relate to:
- While visiting someone in their home, when offered a biscuit, take only one. Take two and you won’t be invited again. (Dutch stinginess)
- Complain, curse, whine, lament about the weather (Dutch national topic of discussion)
- Guys will not pay for dinner on a date (heard of ‘Go Dutch’?)
- Men do not hold doors open for women (Dutch sexual equality)
As we left the lecture hall and walked passed town hall, a lesbian wedding was in progress (Dutch sexual orientation equality)—Congratulations to Ilse and Roos!
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Late summer's rain
Though the leaves are green, they are yellowing. Just a little bit, on the corners.
I stood under a chestnut tree today, trying to escape from the rain. For many days in a row already we've been having sudden freak showers to be followed by sunshine and clear skies. Just as I was cycling home from the station, it started to drizzle. I thought I could just bear the rain, but then within minutes it poured, poured, poured! Water drops splashed on the rain, like peas, disspating in all directions as they bombed the tarmac road and cycle path. I had to find shelter, and I sought it under the arms of a chestnut tree.
For a while the tree was enough to protect me from becoming wet. But only for a while. Soon enough it started to rain even harder, rain to the degree it was reminiscent of horrendous typhoons I experienced last summer. And mixed with the falling rain were pea-sized chuncks of hail. They broke through the leafy shield and struck, bombarding my coat, jeans and cheeks. I was soaked, completely soaked like I had fallen in a pond. Water ran down my eyes till all I could see were blurs. My hair plastered to my forehead, and I could just feel the papers and book I had just bought for my studies in my bag go soggy.
And then it cleared. And the sun came out, surrounded by beautiful pure white clouds. Like it never rained.
Still dripping, I cycled home.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Almost autumn
I breathed out deeply, and pale fog escaped my mouth, disappearing into the surrounding air.
It had suddenly become that cold, but I didn't realise it. I stood there on the beach and watched the sun and sky paint yet another evening canvas with all the colours and shades of blue, orange and crimson they can find and blend together.
Dense clouds clustered on the horizon, reflecting on the calm sea looking like a colossal island with lofty peaks jutting out of the grey mirror. I took a moment to capture this moment, one that will go and never return. The air felt brisk and dry.
Another day ended on this quiet Summer's eve, on the brink of the dawn of Autumn.
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