Something's missing - John Mayer

On June 25^th I had my first anniversary of moving back to Curacao to live. I had resisted it for quite a bit, but that one way ticket, bought with airmiles collected travelling to and from, was me giving it my all to make it work. The three conditions for the move: a good home situation, a fantastic job and quarterly NL trips. No room for negotiation on that, as more that half my heart lives on the other side of the world.

A year ago, I got back on a Tuesday and had told Joris there were a few things I needed to do that week. And one of those things was the Fresh Market at Hòfi Kalabash that first Saturday. I don’t know how long those have been going on before I came back, but in my first week it was one of the definite highlights. I am a green thumbed trained chef, ex-entrepreneur turned green scientist, that believes in supporting local and this was just right up my alley. It was one of those moments, just like my landing my job was, that told me my life on this island was going to be all right.  In the time I have been here, I made every market, on the last Saturday of the month. One time I rushed all the way from Savonet in my ranger outfit, just to scrape the bottom of the barrel, as more and more people are discovering my corner of heaven. During the lockdown it was one of the things I missed acutely.

So driving my finally roadworthy car (Alfred) to Hòfi Kalabash yesterday, with my husband of almost 11 years, it was good to take stock. A lot has been lost in this crisis, but even more has been won in this last year.

This has been a weird week, though. In what I would most definitely define as a weird year. As I am typing this, under normal circumstances I would be fighting jetlag as I would have just returned from Holland from my quarterly visit.

In the last few days I have been thinking a lot about what recharges my batteries. As I was supposed to fly to NL, I had vacation time scheduled and decided to keep my days off. But whatever I filled my days with, it did not feel like vacation and for certain did not leave me replenished. The people who know me, know that my life is filled with work, family (given and chosen), physical exercise, volunteer work and whatever comes my way. Pelican needs picking up? Sure (Joris does not even blink an eye anymore). 100 food packages need to be assembled? Challenge accepted. Rebuilding a bathroom? Buurman en Buurvrouw at your service.

But somehow it just does not feel right. Everything gets done, and I enjoy doing it all, but something just feels….off…

So I spend some time soul searching and came to this conclusion, my batteries are slowly running out. Because all the things that I usually do to recharge are just not possible right now. These things are:

1. Quality time with my chosen family. It is good to be close to my given family, that bathroom project was something we have been wanting to do even before we lived here. Being here when my mom got really sick, was a blessing. 

But a huge part of my given family lives in Tilburg and it physically hurts not to be able to jump in my car and go there. Also, my chosen family is anywhere but here right now. The Inge, J &N, Pien, de Vriezen, Ron and Jo, Roos, Martijn, Arjan and Naledi’s of my life are so sorely missed. Just those evenings of just being, especially with the June weather, of good food, good wines and good to deteriorating conversations, ending in the Music Game, and later on with having to hold on the the wall in bed because of that last drink Bart poured that is was mostly vintage rum and just some diet coke for the color…festival season, strawberry season. Amsterdamse Bos, period. Which brings me to nr 2

2. Travel. Just getting in a plane and going. Anywhere. I think these last 4 months have been the longest I have not travelled in the last 10 years.

3. Dancing. I have never been the kind to go out to have a drink and try to shout over the music. When I go out, I go out to dance. Actually move and sweat and be surprised when the lights come on and we are sent home. I don’t go out to stand in a corner holding an envelope purse with heels that hurt my feet and look pretty. I look pretty enough in my shorts and sweatproof top, with dancing sneakers, thankyouverymuch.

So little of that has been happening in the last few months. No wonder I can’t seem to catch my stride. Joris, lying on the beach chair next to me just said out loud: intense reiskriebels. And having typed what I just did, I reply: wth, I am just typing how depressed I am getting about not being able to travel…as we are lying on beach chairs, on a tropical island, with excellent music playing (Spotify radio based on You’re wondering now by the Skatalites), drinking aged rum…

So now I am going to turn over to a more positive spin. Because, really, even though my batteries are running low, my life is pretty good. 

In the last year, I landed a dream job, 

build up a fortress household that is mostly ready to accommodate people at a moments notice, 

have had some awesome visits, 

did some great volunteer projects, 

saw my Joris find his groove back which restored some key elements this household was craving, 

ran my first 21.1K, 

had some bucketlist items checked off, 

cuddled with the NL folks over the end of year holidays, 

bought my dream car and 

could pop over to AUA for a wedding.

And all of that before the lockdown.

During the lockdown I used my green thumb and food packaging skills to the utmost and got involved in some cool after lockdown projects. 

There are good things ahead, travelling to be done, people to see, places to be. For now, we are good where we are, healthy and paddling in place.

Details in the fabric – Jason Mraz

We are living in weird, weird times….

When we toasted on the new year (euh, let me think, where was I even….ohja, in Amstelveen, with dear, dear, friends, recovering from the most horrible food poisoning), who would have thought it would develop into this. Well, the food poisoning might have been an indication that this year had high sh*t hitting the fan potential….

We just heard that the measures taken for flattening the curve of Covid-19 on our tiny island Curaçao have been extended for two weeks.  We are sheltering in place since the 30th of March, a mere two weeks. In these weeks, we are not allowed to leave the house, only for groceries and the drugstore and then only on the days that your licence plate is allowed on the street. Only one person per car allowed and you can be sent back home at a roadblock if you can not prove a valid reason to be on the road. That besides the fines that are defined for all possible transgressions…
With a mother that is the epitome of ‘person at risk’ we have been laying low even before this time, because I really wanted to be able to hug my mom for her March birthday. Thankfully, my father stopped working just before the lockdown, so they are at home together, sheltering in place. But still, no hugging allowed, it really is the hardest thing.

I have been struggling a lot these days with my emotions. When the lockdown was announced, even though I had been bracing for it, and we made sure beforehand that our loved ones were taken care of, it felt like a blow. I love my job, and part of it is being outside, by myself, in nature, in places that some locals have not ever visited. Of course, as a scientist, there is deskwork to be done: data entry, research, papers, reports. So, I sat down those first days and worked like a machine, excelling at Excel, transcribing a flora bible into a searchable sheet. That, and taking care of the 500, 600, 700, 800 workplants I had growing at home by this time. I felt so much pressure, to be worth my salary, hearing from/about all these people who lost their jobs due to the lockdown. My sister was supposed to start working on April 1st, mere days before all went to hell…friends have been sent home, without pay, notwithstanding contracts. Others can’t return home, because there are no flights and no jobs to return to. The lady that cleans our house, to provide for her family here and in mainland Venezuela, as we are both working too hard to do it ourselves, is not allowed to work.

This household has been doing well. We really have been blessed. The impact of this crisis up to this point has been more emotional than anything else. And here I am, doing my so not vital work at the best capacity I can, and getting paid. I have always felt an intrinsic need to work, to put my abilities and energy to good use, so that is not the issue. But my brain is struggling with the situation, a lot more that feels merited. And that causes stress. Extra stress. Here I am, in extraordinary circumstances, trying to do ordinary stuff. Trying to fill a 40-hour workweek sitting at my dinner table. While trying to make sure that my family is safe, fed and relaxed. I keep repeating to myself: “I am not working from home, I am at home, sheltering, and trying to work.” It should feel so that any work that gets done is a bonus. But it doesn’t. I feel an enormous pressure, I feel heavy guilt that I am getting paid, while others who need it so much more than I do, are jobless and without income. I feel that I have a social responsibility to ‘carry’ all that I can. Normally, when facing mental anxiety, I put on my running shoes and leave it all on the trail. So now I try to leave it all on the fitness mat, but that just does not cut it at this point.

So, I make sure the hours spent bent over books and papers brings food to more that just my table. And try to make sure that my extended family knows that as long as I can eat, they will too. And the ones that are even further away, feel hugged from afar.
My NL holiday was cancelled, I was supposed to fly out the 6th of April and it physically hurts. Even perspective has perspective. There is the internal perspective and the perspective with the outside world. Compared to the rest of the world, hell, the rest of my street, I have nothing to complain about. A DINK (double income, no kids) household, of which 2 jobs are still secure, with enough room to stay out of each other’s way during the workweek during lockdown, what am I even talking about. But internal perspective also has to do with expectation management. When moving here, the expectation and reality was that I would be able to go to NL every give or take 3 months to hug loves ones. And even though I realize it is champagne problems, the hurt of expectations not met, and tickets cancelled is real. Because I do realize that it is luxury problems, the guilt creeps back in and with it the feeling that no matter what I ‘give back’ is not enough. People actually knocking on my front door asking for food, “just a piece of bread!” make me feel like an evil person. Today I had an extra difficult time dealing with ‘uplifting’ and ‘motivational’ posts, telling me how I should let go and just let it flow and flip the switch to positivity any time I wanted. In this whole situation my gut has been spot on, every frikking time, without fault, so if my gut is feeling dread, that is just how it is.

With another two weeks of lockdown ahead, who knows what the situation will be. Of course we make the best of it, weekends in ‘at the beach’ in the inflatable pool, with the catkids, with Sunday bubbles and weekdays with high quality, locally sourced and varied food. But still, even though it feels weird, it is ok not to feel ok.

Stay safe, all!

The name of this blog is of one of my favourite songs of one of my favourite artists.

Saved message:
Hey, what’s up…Uh, I just lost it, at the end of the day I fucking lost it, I just blew up. My whole entire fucking apartment building. I told everyone to go fuck themselves. I just had a hard time today and uh, I don’t know…

[Verse 1: Jason Mraz]
Calm down
Deep breaths
And get yourself dressed instead
Of running around
And pulling on your threads
And breaking yourself up

[Bridge]
If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

[Chorus]

Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way

And everything will be fine

[Verse 2]
Hang on
Help is on the way
And stay strong
I'm doing everything

[Chorus]
And hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
And everything, everything will be fine
Everything

[Verse 3]
Are the details in the fabric
Are the things that make you panic
Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the things that make you blow
Hell, no reason, go on and scream
If you're shocked it's just the fault
Of faulty manufacturing

[Bridge]
Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all
Everything

[Chorus]
And hold your own
Know your name
And go your own way
Hold your own
Know your name
Go your own way

[Verse 4]
(Hold your own) Are the details in the fabric (know your name)
Are the things that make you panic
(Go your own way)Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)
Are the things that make you panic (Go your own way)
Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine?
Are the things that make you blow (Hold your own, know your name)
Hell no reason go on and scream
If you're shocked it's just the fault (Go your own way)
Of faulty manufacturing
Everything will be fine
Everything in no time at all
Hearts will hold

[Spoken outro: James Morrison]
New message:
Yo, what’s up man? I, uh, I don’t know, I just wanted to say that, uh, everything’s cool with me now. I mean, I just think, I think I’ll always be funky, can’t stop being funky, but I guess we just deal with it how it comes, deal with the humps, take the jumps. I feel like you’re an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea. And I love you buddy. Ok. Bye