Bolo drew first blood

Yes! We are catsitting again! Inge is in Bali and we have 4 cats to keep us warm in these COLD, COLD days....

Today, after unpacking etc. etc. I had the following conversation with Bolo. I sit down on the couch, grab the remote and start zapping. Two minutes later (tripple, tripple, tripple on the wooden floor), Bolo comes and joins me.

Me: Hey poes, you come and keep me company?

Bolo: Mrrww (settles down on my lap)

One minute later

Me: Wow, pussygato, this would be a purrfect moment, if you took those claws out of my knee....

Bolo: what knee?

Me: that nice warm thing your lying on, that's my leg...

Bolo: what claws?

Me: you're right, I shouldn't complain, I missed having a kittycat around.

10 minutes later

Me: Let's see what else is on

Bolo: Hey! I was watching that!

Me: Aauuww, ok, ok! I'll stay put.....

Half an hour later

Me: Bolo, I need to stand up now

Bolo: I don't think so...

Me: But I really, really have to use the bathroom!

Bolo: Tough....

Me: I'm sorry cat, but I have been training my bladder for a while now because you where lying so cute...Off you go....

That is why I have 4 beautiful bloody scratches on my thigh right now.

How to make Hallacas or why you should just pay the 7 guilders in the supermarket....

We had the brilliant idea to 'be cultural' about Christmas in Holland this year. Last time we were in Zeeland, Oom Milo and I thought that we could make the typical Venezuelan dish, that has become a Antillean staple. My father calls these his 'survival kits' and stocks the freezer every year.

A good ayaka (hallaca) is quite expensive and they get more and more expensive every year. On my mother's side of the family, the sisters get together and make these bananaleaf packets, which is usually lots of fun. I guess when you are little you have no sense of time....if they did it in one evening....

So Oom Milo and I, who both like a culinair challenge, thought: we could do that. A date was set, Carol was also invited and we started gathering the ingredients.

The first challenge was to find a good recipe. There are so many different kinds of ayakas, you could fill them with whatever you want.

The key ingredients were bananaleaves, yellow corn meal, a spice called onotto, and for the filling whatever you prefer + prunes, green peppers, onions, capers and olives.

We chose a meat and chicken filling. The spice onotto ( now known as oh, no -tto) gives the dough its particular yellow color and taste. Many phonecalls and trips to the most obscure 'toko's' later we had what we needed.

On the particular day I woke up at 6:00, to pick up Kwek at 7:30. After waking her up we drove of to Zeeland, where we woke up Oom Milo too. Apparently people think I'm kidding when I say I'll be there at 7:30 and 9:00 on a Saturday....to cook....

Anyway, we had a recipe for 50 ayacas. I had bought the leaves and Kwek was put to work cutting them up to size. The leaves had to be washed, and at this point we were already reconsidering our very ambitious target of 50. After washing the 10th leave I had lost all feeling in my fingers and I was wet to my knees. So we decided to go for 30 ayakas.

After changing into a pair of pants of Oom Milo, we started on the filling. The recipe called for onotto oil. Guys, if you ever try this out for yourself, skip this step. You have to warm the oil and let the seeds steep. The problem is, the smell......oh the smell......the whole house, our clothes and everything we had with us, smelled of Oh-no-tto. It doesn't stink, it just smells like a cheap curry restaurant.....for days.....

By now it was 13:00h and the ayaka count was still 0. The target count by now: 25. We followed the recipe for the stew filling, but it was not looking very tasty.

Hmm, not quite the way I have ever seen an ayaka filled before....But hey, it tasted ok, so we moved on to the masa (dough). This had to be made with lard (pig's fat). And if you thought the smell of onoto was bad to stick to your hair, try melting that....Oom Milo knows now, why Venezuelans don't live long.

At around 14:30 we started with the stuffing conveying belt. By now we were proud that we did not give up. Our aim: 10 ayakas.

To make a long story short: I got home at 20:30 that night, with 3 ayakas in my bag and it took me 3 days to soak the smell out of my hair and bags. We had a total of 15 ayakas, it took 3 people 9 hours to make them.

Joris and I ate the ayakas yesterday and they were good!! We lived to tell, so it was not just the taste.

So it wasn't Tokyo....

But is was a good day. We had wonderful weather Saturday and Sunday! On Curacao it rained more than here.
Saturday we met up with friends and had some drinks in the city and that turned into dinner at their BEAUTIFUL home. The fluffy cat even let me pet her (the more you want to, the less they allow you to touch them) :o)

At midnight I was called by my family at home, which I miss so much it hurts at times. In the morning I woke up to a decorated house with balloonshaped garlands. So I baked my famous chocolate cake and open my presents. I got this beautiful rock from Joris, with a loupe to study it. H&M giftcards and some amazing jewelry from family and friends. But the best present was my 'kos-di-plak', which I got just in time to stick the last part on my birthday. In my family it is a tradition to have a countdown calender, usually a puzzle that fits together nicely, with an extra nice final piece to tack on your birthday. My mom had made us an amazing one for the wedding as well.

In the afternoon we went out to find me some animals, in this case ducks. The look on my face on the picture below is me telling Joris : these ducks don't work, let's go find new ones.

The geese did not like my bread.

But these ones did, so we fed the duckos until Kwek arrived. We had some cake and drinks, later on some soup and famous local sausagebreads and turned in early for the new week.

Oct 4th, a day of firsts!

On Monday the 4th of October, Joris had his first day at his new job. A bit nervous, but happy to get back to work, I waved him off at Amsterdam Zuid, as he continued in the train to Schiphol.

It was also my first day of fieldwork with the faculty. As it was made clear from the beginning, that day we would be travelling by bike, so I had been practising. As I was still a danger on the road (read: still inexplicably drawn to mysteriously magnetic trees, ditches and car mirrors, unable to let go of the steering wheel (how's that thing called on a bike?) to signal or blow my constantly runny nose and deadly afraid of all approaching cars), I chose to rent a tandem. I picked the sturdiest guy in class to be my frontman, and Sjoerd did a wonderful job of not letting me fall down the whole day. And we weren't even the only ones on a tandem, as apparently we have a kid in class that is visually impaired to a degree that he can not ride a bike either. Not being able to ride a bike is a disability in Holland.
(In my world, not being able to dance is a disability. In a land where 'the women dance like they are having a epileptic shock while mopping and while listening to different music than we are' [not my words!] it's just as hard for them to understand that not riding a bike has never been a problem for me as it is for me to understand them not being able to dance.)

As Joris went through the first new-hire sessions at his work, we rode along the Amstel. We stopped at a farm to do some manual drilling in the field. I'm going to make a kick-ass scientist. As the teacher is explaining about the lay of the land, this is what I am doing:

For lunch, I had flattened hagelslag sandwiches with still some mud, manure and clay on them, while Joris was served several rounds of excellent cuisine, starting with scallops and caviar. (Verschil moet er zijn)
In the afternoon, we did some measuring of the salinity (saltiness) of the water around a mill-system (very salty). This is Sjoerd and Floris doing the measuring as I am logging the results on my clipboard.

After some more biking and then some, we went back to school, where Joris and I met up to go back home. I had mud up to my knees, had hugged several cows, and logged a lot of things on a clipboard and Joris had introductions in several of the areas he will be working in in the future. He had his new blackberry, his new laptop and a welcome basket and many, many stories to tell.
We were both really happy with our days.

Skipping stones

You know those round, flat stones? That skip beautifully on the surface of the water?
I know exactly how they come into being. Let me not bore you with the details, especially since, apparently, I am not good at putting it into words yet. I got my first grade today, and it was not a passing one :o( .

We had a test last week, to see how our studyplan is working (or not). It was not for a real grade, but Joris just scored mine and if it were for real, I would not have passed.

It is taking some time to find the correct studying rhythm, but with this grade in mind, I can adapt my planning and do better next time. I am aiming for the Honour's class, so I have to!

Starting next week, Joris will also be sitting on the 7.08 am train to Schiphol, going to work. This week he is doing the last of his lollygagging (just kidding, he has been doing all sort of stuff, one of them being taking me to the trainstation at 6:45 every morning).

Mmm, dinner is ready! And after that it's back to the books.

He's got beauty and brains, this man of mine....

A few years ago, in 2008, when we started planning everything for the wedding and the worldtrip, Joris and I decided to look around for ways to earn more money to be able to save up some serious moolah.
One of the options was that Joris would go to Holland for a few months and work there and save some euros instead of Florins. That option proved unneccesary, as the company he had been working for in Curacao matched the offer he got from the Rabobank and as we were not exactly looking forward to missing each other for 6 months just before our marriage, he stayed. (jee)

In the process of finding the job in Holland, Joris got into contact with a company called Schuberg Philis, located near Schiphol. He had a webcam interview with some technicians, but was told he was not there yet.

Ever since, Joris really, really wanted to work there. He stayed in contact with the recruiter and when we decided to move here, he contacted them and they set up another meeting.

Here I have to make a sidestep: Joris had his resume on Monsterboard for a while and was receiving mails regularly before we left Curacao, but once the worldtrip was canceled, things had changed. He had put his phonenumber on the site and while he was walking away from the computer, he said: "I wonder when the first one will c..." TRIIIINNGG!!
It took no more than 1 minute.
And the phonecalls kept on coming. Joris was harrassed day and night and had contact with about 30 companies. Of all these companies there were 3 that he followed through with: Ordina, TAQA and...Schuberg Philis.

(Even though he would say that each offered their challenges and that he would like to work at any, Schuberg Philis was the ultimate dreamjob in his eyes. He just didn't believe he was good enough (yet). But as the weeks went by, his confidence grew.)

After many, many interviews and endless phone conversations, Joris thanked TAQA and received an offer from Ordina. Schuberg Philis was still in the game, but was taking more time than expected.

Yesterday, though, was the final interview and Joris got the job and Schuberg Philis! His official job description is Mission Critical Engineer and the workconditions are more than ideal.

Jee!! Joris got his dream job!

20/09/2009 - 20/09/2010

A year ago around this time, I was still miss Eman....This blog is a bit sappy, but hey, it is only your first anniversary once!

Our rings may look less new than when we first put them on that day, but what they stand for is still brandnew.

Vandaag neem ik jou aan als mijn man, mijn partner, mijn vriend en mijn vertrouweling

Ik zal je elke dag meer liefhebben dan gisteren

Waar jij gaat, zal ik gaan, waar jij verblijft, zal ik verblijven

Ik zal je vertrouwen en respecteren

Ik zal in jouw armen slapen

Samen kunnen we alles bereiken

Samen kunnen we meer dan alleen

Ik geef jou mijn hand, mijn hart en mijn liefde

Totdat de dood ons scheidt

You live, you learn.... (you leeeeeeeeaahhuuurrnnnn)

This live is so unpredictable. You start off in life having all these dreams and plans. When I was little, I wanted to become a famous ballerina. For work I could see myself as a teacher. And from really early on I would sit on the countertop and 'help' with cooking. I had a very good idea that I would get married at 21, have at least 4 kids and live happily ever after.
As you grow older you start rethinking things and at times forget about the dreams you used to have as a kid. Believe me, as a kid I could never have picture myself standing in dog-poo and living in Pietermaai.
Now I am on the brink of becoming 30, and at times like this you start looking back and it's funny how things work out....

Things I never thought I'd do before turning 30
1) Getting Married
It's almost a year ago that we got all our family and friends together to promise to love each other 'till death do us part. I still think back often and that photographer was worth every penny! Joris and I have had many big changes since then and we are still very much trying to find our bearings in Holland, but that day and what it stands for can still brighten up the crappiest day. We have been living back at Joris' parents for 2 months now, I have been unemployed since May and Joris since June, but the fact that we are stuck with each other makes it all better. If we still see the silver lining now, imagine when things are looking up!

I must add here that in the years that I know Joris, I have been proud of him on several occasions, but not like I have been here. Wow, the way he is sought after by recruitment agencies and the way he aces accessments, blows my mind. I love my geek.
2) Moving back to Holland
And there we are, in Den Dungen. The summer was great, but every day of sun now might be the last, autumn is slowly creeping in. I love the 4 seasons, so I don't mind too much. The H & M will support us every degree that it gets colder. By the end of this week we will know what job Joris will have and we can start making plans to move. As it seems, at the earliest it will be the end of November. Amsterdam is extremely expensive and as there are more people waiting for appropiate housing than there are nice apparments, the waiting lists are long. But as with everything else in our lives, this will probably fix itself. Joris will probably get a company car, so we will be traveling a bit more in the weekends to look for a new home.
3) Being back in school fulltime
BSc Aarde en Economie 1 year, at the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam. I really wished you could save up some kind of mileage on the train. I travel to and fro for more than an hour every day and could really rack up points. In English you could say Economic Earth Sciences, Environmental Economics, but whatever you call it, I'm having a blast.
4) Getting pregnant
Got you there, didn't I? I was right on that one, still not going to happen.
5) Learning to drive a bike, this time for real It seems that it is quite impossible to move around in Amsterdam without a bike. So there is no two ways about it, this time I have to keep trying until it is safe for me to ride on the road. If you could only see the big blue bruises on my body right now, you'd know I'm pretty serious about it.

Lessons learned before age 30 (ok, today, just before I starting typing this):
Never, ever attempt DIY waxing. I am not a wimp, I can handle a lot of pain. I have been waxing certain delicate areas for years now and don't ever give an inch. But that is always done by a professional. Ok, the first time wasn't, the girl that waxed me was squirming even more than I was. She said that she had a lot of experience, and she waxes herself, but I doubt it. She kept saying that she imagined it was: Un dolor impresionante! (a formidable pain) and had to count down every time she pulled a strip. Let's just say I did not go back to that salon.
But anyhow, here in Holland some things are quite expensive, so I keep my eyes open for cheaper alternatives. In the DIO (pharmacy), where my mother-in-law works, I found this very innocent looking little box with dried wax, with really simple instructions. It said to heat up the wax au bain marie, apply with a wooden spatula and slowly pull off. Do not attempt on underarms.
I thought, if I can handle bikini area, I can handle armpits, it can't be worse....First I warmed up the wax (I had the presence of mind to use a bin that could be discarded after use) and went up to the bathroom, armed with a wooden spoon from the kitchen. Before I had some wax on my armpit, I had wax on the sink, on the floor, on my shirt, my toes, the towels hanging next to the sink and the mirror. Not as easy as it looks at the spa...After a while I got the hang of the drippings and got some on the right spot. In great tradition of my mom, I did not try it out on a small spot, but did the whole armpit at once. It cooled of pretty fast, so I started peeling off from top to bottom. Tears sprung in my eyes, are you kidding me? It hurt like HELL!! I was standing there, with my arm up over my head, and with the other hand I was trying to pull off the by now rock-hard, extremely unpliable wax, that was breaking off like glass.
After a while I went and got a pair of scissors, to try to cut or scrape off the crap, but to no avail. I wimpered my way to the end, until I had 1 side done. Do not repeat. But still no lessons learned, apparently, because while blowing my nose (of all the tears) I saw that I had a lot of wax still left and thought: Hey, how bad could legs be after that? And again! Instead of trying it on a small spot, nope, I lathered it on, thickly, in both legs, until I had no more wax. The thing that still staggers me, is how fast the liquid wax becomes instant cement. Maybe I could take some to school for my geology class....So I started peeling again and crap, it was just as bad. I wanted to have smooth and silky legs for the weekend, as Joris and I are going away together for our anniversary. Instead I have spotty, half hairy legs, with residue cement wax, with inside-of-jeans-lint stuck to it. Sexy....

Cindyrella and her rubber slipper

Carol (Kwek) just got the keys to her new home!! Jee!!

Yesterday we were in Tilburg to finalize all the paperwork. We walked around the city for hours, going from the bank to the housing people, to the municipal office and back. At the end of the day, as we were walking towards the train station, I commented to Kwek how happy I was that I had the right shoes on for this endeavor, that even after all this walking, my feet did not hurt.


When we got engaged, the first things I bought were this pair of white rubber slippers, with

Swarovski stones. I absolutely fell in love with them and seemed like the only one, everybody else hated them for my wedding shoes. Even though I did not wear them for the ceremony, they were still very dear to me.

After we hugged and said goodbye, Carol left to get her bus and I went to the board to check out the trainschedule. The train in my direction was leaving in 3 minutes, so I went upstairs where I needed to be. As I was on the last step up I heard the whistle for the doors, so I looked up and saw the doors beginning to close. It took me a second the decide wheter I would run left or right as both the doors where just as far from where I was standing. I decided to go right. As I got there, those doors started closing as well, so I thought about jumping through anyway. I hesitated, thought better of it and did not jump completely. The doors closed with my leg in between them. Let's just say, that I slightly panicked. I pressed on the door open knob, but nothing. I banged on the doors and other people standing there started yelling and waving to the people inside the train, but nothing. So I pulled and pulled, until I got my leg free, but could not get my slipper out together with my foot. It stayed stuck in between the doors. I hung on it with my full body weight, pulling like crazy, making signs to the people inside the train to help. The train drove of with half my slipper sticking out from the side, as I was standing there on one slipper.

Not my best moment. I could only imagine what it looked like to others. I had to laugh out loud at how ridiculous it all was, waving goodbye to my slipper.(Only later I realized that it could have ended badly, if it were my leg sticking out the doors with the train driving off....)
This really sweet girl coming home from vacation gave me her slippers, so I did not have to go home barefooted.

I approached several employees of the NS, to get help, but no one wanted to do anything about a slipper. Just before the next train that could take me home arrived, this new guy with the classic red NS hat came to help a wheelchair on a train and I thought: doesn't hurt to ask. So I explained to him that my slipper went for a ride and gave him a businesscard, as my train was leaving.

Can you imagine that within the hour Sjon from station Tilburg called me and told me he had my slipper? I went back immediately, with a big bag of drop and took my slipper home.

I still get tears in my eyes from laughing when I think about it....the slipper was sticking out for 15 cm, driving of to Eindhoven...

Just a note...

In Feb of 2008, I surprised Joris with a belated birthday present. I had borrowed the keys to Hulu Beach and packed everything I could think of to have a 5 star experience on a deserted beach: tent, lounge chairs, table, a 3 course bbq meal and a big jug full of snacks and bubbly drinks.

I woke him up at 6 in the morning and as we drove to Bandabou in the dark with some good music on the radio, a even-bigger-eyed-than-usual Joris kept asking: where are we going? Hm? Hm?


As reading material I brought the only thing I could find at the moment, which was a stack of ancient National Geographic Magazines. As we were lying and reading, we kept sighing and saying things like: I wanna go there. All of a sudden we both turned to each other and said: So why don't we? Let's do it!

We had found our travel buddy for this lingering dream we both had. And for the rest of our lives.

In the course of getting to this goal we had several of these moments. Moments in which we would we thinking of something, each on his or her own, and the one just had to start the sentence and the other would laugh and say: I was just thinking that. Usually this entailed big decisions, like moving in together, marriage, going back to school and moving to Holland after travelling. It became the standard to which we would hold our decisions, to see if it was a good one. Joris started writing things down and hiding them, so he could show me the moment when he started thinking something.

Another one of those moments came along. Please read this sitting down.

Monday morning, Aug 9th, I woke up really early, with a strange uneasy feeling. Thoughts were going through my head at 200 mph and my stomach was hurting, so I got out of bed and went downstairs, to clear my head. As I was sitting there, there was this one thought that kept pushing through, and after a few hours I woke Joris up to talk about it.

When we started thinking about travelling, we had the plan to travel for at least a year, maybe more if possible. Volunteering and working with large animals was high on our list and we had certain places we really wanted to visit for a longer period of time. As we started doing research it was moved back to 8 months, later 6 and now at the end it became 4 months. There are so many things we want to do and see, here in Holland. Joris jobhunting is going exceptionally well, he could start working tomorrow if he so chooses to and it is a big joy to see Kwek starting up here. We have been living on a budget for 3 years now, saving up for the wedding and for the trip. Our savings are there, but it feels like nothing else is in place. Sounds spacey, but it just did not feel right.

We saw our beautiful plan melt into a reduction of a reduction of a pale comparison to the original idea.

When I started rambling on that Monday morning, Joris jumped up and ran to the wastebin and started digging through the trash. He found this note he wrote:

Laten we de wereldreis minstens 1 jaar of misschien tot na je bachelor opschuiven...dated July 30th at 14:40.
We both felt it inside, but could not bring ourselves to say it out loud, but we could not ignore it any longer. We are postponing our dream trip, in order to give it the room it needs to grow back into what we intended in the first place. In 3 years we will be better prepared, financially and in any other way, Joris will have made his mark in the Dutch work environment, I will have my studies (almost) done and in the meantime we could really relax and enjoy the live we are living right now a little bit more.
We are still crying silently about it when nobody is looking, but Joris is looking forward to start working (hopefully in October) and my school starts Aug 23rd. Never a dull moment here....

Breaking radio silence

It has been a while, but that is no excuse. We have had some stress in our first few weeks here. Thankfully enough we have a wonderful family here, where not just ourselves, but also Kwek could crash and in between all that needed to be arranged, we had good food, nice wine and great company. The weather has been excellent and it's good to be in Holland in the summer.

Moving always brings turmoil and moving to Holland is no different. While we have been enjoying a semi-holiday feeling, we have been standing in even more lines than we did in Curacao, bizar but true. It seems that Kranshi is really good at what they do. No, seriously. But here, in gemeente St. Michielsgestel, which by the way is the safest in Holland, they still have some trouble with a couple trying to register from the Netherlands Antilles. We have been going back twice a week for a while now and the amount of misinformation given to us is staggering.

The first time, on the Monday morning after we arrived, we were full of good expectations and smiled all the way to the counter, thinking: this is Holland, we will be in and out in no time. Little did we know that the ladies behind the counter all work partime or not in this department and every single question we had was answered with a blank stare, a few blinks and: eeuh...I'll have to ask my collegue. Why that collegue did not come help us, we did not understand. Maybe there is a correlation between the size of the bum and the amount of information a public officer can retain....
When we left that first day, we were still 'landenloos', we had no id's except for our passports (don't want to lose that!), no driving licenses and even more: it was impossible to register our marriage.
Let's just keep the story short and say that after the fourth time, I was still ms. Eman, and I'm pretty sure that all official documents we receive will state the same. And I am so proud of my married name....

What we surely did not expect was that the day we arrived in Holland, de KPN (telecom company) made a mistake and shut down the wrong line at home and we were without internetconnection until the 8th of Aug. Which makes it pretty much impossible to keep contact like you would want to with all that you left behind on the other side of the world. Or work remotely like Joris was aiming for. You only realize how much you depend on internet when you don't have it anymore. We had to make arrangement everytime we needed internet, that kinda sucked.

In the second week that we were here, we went to pick up Kwek's keys. She had found the room through internet and had rented it starting in July, without any of us seeing it. The room was great, the roommates not so much! She would have been the only female person and the only person under 30 in the house. So we had to start looking for new housing like crazy. Our stuff that was shipped on June 21th is still on its way, even though it would take max. 6 weeks. The new date we got now is Sept 1st.

We miss our family and friends in Curacao, we miss having our own home and the pickup, but things are looking up. We will keep you all updated!

Growing up

Dedicated to Kwek, my baby sister

At the moment I am starting to write this, I am far away from my pc. It is a tiny idea in the back of my head, where the idle thoughts usually form, that grabs on to seemingly unrelated feelings and pours it into this text. At our farewell party, as we are packing up our suitcases and lives, in the plane...

As I was growing up my mom always used to say the right thing at the right moment. We, as her daughters, would sit in (ok, sometimes pretended) awe and marvel at her wisdom. She always used to say, that when she got older, she would write a book called 'Emma's wijsheden' (Emma's wisdom). The funny thing is, that the greatest lessons I learned from my mom, are the ones given by example.

The greatest wisdom that I got from her is: Nee heb je al, ja kun je krijgen (You've already got no, you could get yes), which combined with my personality got me places at a very young age, especially careerwise. You can only rise to meet expectations that are above your normal comfortzone. If and when you fall flat on you face, which you undoubtedly will sometimes, think lesson two: I can't do more than my best and chalk it up to experience. To this I added my own lesson: To overcome the initial disappointment, first bake and then eat cake. (Hmmm...suddenly a whole new explanation of my cake-baking abilities jump to mind....)

Another thing that I learned is that growing up is all about making choices.
When you feel that you have no choice, it can suffocate you into all sorts of trouble. At a certain point in your life, the choices start to become increasingly more difficult. Do I leave the island I grew up on, to seek my fortune elsewhere? Do I stop going to school and go work fulltime? Do I choose for the man that I love or do I love me more? Do I stay in this well-paying job even though I want to tear my eyes out because I am SO bored, because there is a worldwide recession?
Or in the case of my mother: do I go on organizing a vakantieplan for 300 kids, even though we've got no money? Lesson number 3: It is better to be sorry about things you tried that didn't take, than be sorry about things you didn't try. So you have to live back at home for a while, because you can't afford rent after leaving a situation that was not good for you. Or maybe you have to find a temporary position because you did not get you dreamjob. Or you find yourself washing toilets because you and you husband are saving up for a worldtrip...(no worry guys, we're not there yet). We sometimes forget, that even in our worst situations, there are people that are worse off than we are. Lesson number 4: You can always find time, resources and energy to help another, as long as you have life. This is also the reasoning behind: where 3 can eat, 4 can eat.

It is scary, jumping into anything new, whether you are 17, 19 or 30. Leaps of faith is what sculpts you into the person you are in the end. And even though we do not come from money, we are well equiped to face the world with what we got growing up.

...with a little help from our friends....

Saying goodbye was not easy, but we managed with a lot of help from our friends.

One of our last challenges was to get everything in our suitcases. Packer Magnificus Jarett found a worthy mate in Inge and pulled off fitting 54 kilos into the 2 Samsonites, making it look soooo easy. Inge took around 15 kilos home in her own luggage, saving us from having to leave more stuff behind.

Marieke provided the sushi when we got hungry, but due to the big knot in my stomach, my last Matsuri meal consisted of only 7 pieces. (The crew of our outbound flight did not mind, as they got the leftovers...)

Leaving the house behind was very, very hard. That was the house where we met, courted, got engaged and had our wedding, so it was like leaving a part of our history behind.

Our next break was checking in. As we were some of the first to check in, the lady behind the counter was still fresh and happy and gave us a break by not charging us the 4 extra kilo's @ Naf 36 a piece.

I won't even try to describe how crappy it was to leave ma, pa and Lisa behind. Let's just say that the people standing in line with us waiting for customs did not see the most charming side of me and those tissues I bought for Naf 7 (!!!) were worth every penny.

Once at the gate I was extremely happy to get extra hugs from Inge, before she boarded the plane. We were lucky to have a flight with 40 empty seats, so after an emotional take-off, our extremely diplomatic flight attendant offered the creep next to me at the windowseat another seat at the other side of the plane, so we could have 3 seats for the two of us. We were happy enough like that, but it got even better. We already had our wooden shoes slippers for on board, but Inge had brought along my vaas and for Joris the bubble-addict a big bottle of Spa Rood. And she had a question. What do we prefer, being served by her during the flight, or be moved to the business class?

We really couldn't believe our luck, we could lie down 180 degrees and did so. The food was EXCELLENT! The time flew by and before you knew it, we were in Holland.

We're good to go!

All the stamps are in and we are officially no longer registered citizens of the island of Curacao. Very weird feeling! Today we had the final round of queues: Kranshi, Vreemdelingendienst, UTS, bank and by lunch we were done. A few more days to stuff the last things in our suitcases and finally, finally to go the beach (even if rains cats and dogs, we are still going!).

Lost in translation

Curacao is an island of many, many cultures. Growing up here has the benefit of knowing many languages, nationalities and their customs and enjoy all the different cuisines. It is only after being away for a few years, that I came back and saw that what I considered typical Yunan di Korsou (child of Curacao, someone born here) were in fact 2nd generation arabics, 10th generation portugese imigrants and so on. (Trying to leave the island married to a Dutch immigrant has shown me another whole new side of the community). Some things, though, are just not translatable. There just are no words for that specific feeling, emotion or custom in another language.
In the last few weeks everybody on the island was wearing their original national colors out and proud, during the World Cup. Slowly but surely the favorites were being sent home and by default for some, by conviction for others, the island started to color Orange. Every match that NL won, brought on spontaneous honking parades of many, many cars through our street and the students next to us would play Andre Hazes and Guus Meeuwis until our ears bled.

At times like these, being part of the Dutch Kingdom is at it's best. The ambiance is great and is us against the rest of the world.

Trying to get to the beach was a big goal for Joris and I this week, but impossible to achieve, so for the last match of the Cup we decided to go to Port Mari to watch the game at the beach. It was a nerve-wrecking match and the ending was not at all what we all hoped, but we are proud of our team anyway.

The one thing that will stand out the most of this afternoon is this: as it was almost time for the match to begin, Marieke and I started to dry off and put on our orange gear. Marieke's Bavaria dress got a lot of attention, especially from the other Dutch people on the beach. We got a lot of weird looks from the non-Dutch visitors. One of them came up to me and asked: 'What does it mean that: hup?' (He pronounced it hoop oftewel hoep in het nederlands, I still have to laugh everytime I think about it)

Death & Taxes

They say nothing in life is sure but death and taxes. After many, many hours at the tax office I must agree that I now have a death-wish. Or better yet, a kill-wish.....

People always say that I don't have patience. People who know me better might know better. I can spend hours and hours decorating a cake, or doing any kind of arts and crafts project. I can explain anything to anyone until I am blue in the face, if that person really wants to learn. There are just certain things that I do not care to put up with.

Let's just say that these last few weeks and especially the last few days have given me room to expand other people's opinion (ahum..Joris...) of how patient I can be. I have even found the time to come up with a short manual of how to leave the island.

DIY Manual

for people considering to abandon the island of Curacao

Step 1: Really, really think about it. Do you really want to leave? It will take a considerate amount of energy to achieve this. If you are not sure, DON'T!

Step 2: Start early, at least 10-12 weeks in advance. Especially if you are not born here, or married to someone not born here. It is no longer possible to leave the island on a guarantee certificate (this is new, as of 01-06-2010) for the tax office.

Step 3: Don't believe anything one person tells you at any 'loket', reception, security post. Ask a second and possibly a third person and look on the website, just in case. The truth will lay somewhere in the middle. In reality the truth changes depending on who you speak to. If at all possible, get information in writing (if you do, make a picture of the moment and send it to me, I would loooove to see that...). If they tell you to come back for something on a certain day, start calling a day before to make sure it will be ready for you.

Step 4: Be prepared to wait. Mentally and physically. In my case this means carrying snacks, drinks, an always fully charged I-pod and a book. In case you have a tiny bladder, like me, remember that banks don't let you use their bathrooms. Try to make it fun, you have to go through it anyway.

Step 5: Plan well, some offices are open at odd hours, others are closed on Fridays. Try to avoid banks on the last and first days of the month. In our case, during the World Cup Matches where Argentina, Brasil or Portugal were playing, the lines were a lot shorter everywhere.

Step 6: Make copies of all documents you receive and submit. Scan them and store them online so you can access them on anyone's pc.

Step 7: Be with somebody that speaks to local language to avoid any misunderstandings. This will save you some time sitting in the wrong queue. The security guards of most public offices just don't care or delight in the fact that they know more than you do and might misinform you on purpose. Try to avoid them and speak with a real employee.

Step 8: Don't lie to, yell at, threaten, hit or kill any public office employees, as it might delay your departure from the island. Even though some of them are only there to fill out their seats and don't have one ounce of servicemindedness in their unusually colossal asses, you will have to deal with them on their terms. And sometimes, suddenly, you will come across a person that will go out of her way to help. Really appreciate these little miracles.

We still have a week to go, and we really, really thought, stupidly enough, that these last weeks would be spend at the beach, sipping drinks with umbrella's....Let's just hope that on Friday Joris gets his last tax stamps and we can finally go queue somewhere else. We need a change of scenery...

To blog or not to blog....

After giving this a lot of thought, I decided to give it a try: I am starting a blog. Especially with all the adventures we are going through trying to leave this island and our trip ahead, I think it will be easy to fill.
This is the test run. I promise the next messages will be more fun and I will get better at this!

Ons huwelijk

Nieuwsbrief Jaargang 2 Vol 3

Nieuwsbrief Jaargang 2 Vol 3

Nieuwsbrief Jaargang 2 Vol 2

Nieuwsbrief Jaargang 2 Vol 2