Mile 19

I am all up in my own self-pity grill right now, so stop reading if you don't want to scoff. Because my rant is super scoff worthy.

A number of years ago, I completed the Portland Marathon. I had trained all summer to walk the course very fast, but when the event was happening, I found myself running, though I wasn't a runner, and walking way beyond my usual pace. Apparently this is called "race adrenaline" and as far as phenomena go, it is a bastard. Yea sure, you are cruising along at mile 5, 9 or 14, wading amidst the hubris as you look at your branded watch and think, "At this pace I will finish in time to watch the back to back "90210" episodes on USA and eat a lasagna! And still do the laundry and roast a chicken!" Or something (not at all) like that. It all felt great and powerful and uplifting and superhuman.

Until mile 19 when the wall crashed down on my swollen head. "How does that feel Cocky McGee?" it said while dangling a bottle of Advil in front of my face.

"Ow," I said.

Really. It was not just pain, but also a feeling of absolute exhaustion. My muscles turned into 20 pound lumps of Play Doh and I realized, at this mile, that the strap of my jog bra (sorry! I hate that term, but what am I going to use in its place? Athletic support? Jock brassier?) had rubbed my shoulder raw. I was not going to make it, feeling the way I felt. No freakin way.

But I did. At mile 20 was my old house, with Advil and a Bloody Mary waiting for me. My friend Warren, a marathon veteran, was there, and wouldn't let me sit down, but did let me chug a cocktail before sending me on my way. And you know, by mile 21, I felt much better. I actually ran mile 24, managed the last bit by sheer determination and teared up when crossing the finish line. It was so worth it, and something I swore I would never do again.

Until I decided I'd take a job in an office that works in another language. Yea. That was smart! It was arrogance that made me think I could slip into Dutch without too much work and it was 8 hours of mile 19 that made me want to quit today. But my friend Marco here is my friend Warren there and he gave me quite a talking to tonight (while sitting on the sun deck of Musikgebouw overlooking the Ij -- so pretty). Apparently we Americans believe so much in ourselves that we are shocked when we can't do something perfectly and tend to quit rather than struggle. "Europeans," he said, "are quite honest about their failings, which shows our humanity and allows us not to put so much pressure on ourselves." Interesting. He convinced me that stopping now would cause me great regret later. This is a guy who speaks seven languages, so I am not going to argue with his wisdom. But I do want to quit, even though I know I won't.

Learning a language while working full time and spending all non-working time with my English-speaking people is quite difficult, and I hope I remember that when feeling frustration toward non-English speakers who live in the US. It isn't school, where you have set time periods devoted to studying. This is more trying to remember the word for "Less" while grabbing some chicken to make for dinner before the grocery closes at 8. It is very hard, but I hope very worth it. Will I get a commemorative medal when it is all over? Perhaps a free container of yoghurt and a complementary banana? Only time will tell.


Homework break - geek style

Tom and I just lipsynched "The Kid Is Hot Tonight," by Loverboy during halftime of the Turkey vs. Germany match and while I was in a good stopping point from the Dutch studies. I was resplendent in a dishtowel (clean) headband and holding a wooden spoon microphone. Tom rocked the air guitar. Is there any wonder why I love this man so much?


Brain stretch

It has been a long ass time since my brain ached. Proper eyes blurring, head numb, justonemoreandthenI'lltakeabreak, ache. And it is the best feeling in the world. I love it. Class yesterday was good -- I am one of six students, and while my Dutch isn't the best, it isn't the worst, though my lack of vocabulary is shocking to me. How I thought I could learn an entire dictionary of words by osmosis and sporadic "classes" is beyond me. The reality of learning and the effort required to do it, came back with a vengeance yesterday as I spent four solid hours on homework with a grin on my face. Fantastic. Honestly I was the happiest student in the world! I went to a cafe, spread my books out over a big table by the window and proceeded to translate every single word I didn't know before filling in the blanks or circling the opposite adjective on the worksheets. It took a long time and produced four pages of Dutch words and their definitions -- all written in a newly purchased notebook and with a newly purchased pen, which I think will help me learn faster, don't you? Now I can say things like, "Rustig aan!" and "Heb je een goedkoop trui?" which are not complex sentences, but use words I didn't know yesterday morning when I got up. And that is why I love learning so much; my brain will have new and different things in it tonight that it has never had in it before. The only big difference between today and the last time I was a student of anything but life and shoe trends is it takes a bit more time to make my brain remember what it learned today, yesterday, last week, an hour ago, or five minutes from now. Oh well. It just means I will be keeping myself in new notebooks for a while, which is never a bad thing.


Ik ben (sort of) Nederlandse

What a weekend! After my second week at work, I started to settle into a groove, only to be away from the office all this week at intensive Dutch class. I am so excited to start tomorrow, and hope to stretch my brain beyond anything I have imagined. I know it won't be a silver bullet that allows all communication to be clear, but it is a significant step toward becoming a proper Dutch speaker. And that is a good thing.

Saturday was the quarterfinal match between Netherlands and Russia. We went to a bar in de Pijp with friends (after consuming an obscene amount of cottage pie at Alison and Snapper's house) and were there to ride the waves of frustration, glee and sadness, as the mightly orange were eliminated from competition. When Holland scored a goal to tie the game, it was as loud, as exciting, as fun as I have ever imagined. The place went nuts, and we were part of it. I think I may have inadvertantly caused the loss because I had visited a costume shop earlier in the day and had bought much orange ephemera in anticpation of a victory -- wigs, hats, glasses, ect.) Note to self: wait until your team makes it to the finals before buying props. At least we are set for Queens Day next year!

Today was a lovely lazy day, as the winds are blowing with great force and the temperature is a humid 75. It is nice to be here, experiencing all of the events of the day with Tom and Beets. Just to sit on the red couch together and read books as Spain and Italy battle on the television is a beautiful thing. I hope the Dutch takes and I am hopeful that another world will open up here for us. It will take time and work, but it is quite a great challenge to take on. I'll keep you posted.


It's 10pm, but I swear it seems like 6.

I love summers in Holland, and now that it is officially my third such season here, I can say that with some cred. It stays light so late that the days take on a slower pace and everyone seems to be amazed all the time because it is perpetually 6pm in our collective heads, though it is much later in actuality. I remember being sent to bed as a kid when it was still light outside and using the lingering daylight to sneak a page or two of reading in when I was supposed to be sleeping. Those few pages felt like gold, and I still get the same charge when the clock says one thing but the light says another.

I started work this week and like it very much so far. Being the only non-Dutch speaker is a challenge, mostly because I can't eavesdrop and get a leg up on the challenges that I know are coming, but I am eager to learn and the people I am surrounded with are both patient and kind. The work is amazing -- very creative and smart -- and I feel like I fit. Once I can communicate in Dutch, it will all be better. One thing that surprised me was lunch, when everyone eats together in a common room, from food that is provided once a week by the company. Lots of soft sandwich bread, lots of butter, lots of cheese, lots of milk and lots of spreads. And sprinkles. They were very nice and asked me if I needed anything specific to eat, so this week will see the addition of Wassa crackers, green apples and soy milk. I want to fit in, but I can't eat what they eat and feel at all healthy. It is the first real cultural difference I have experienced, and in the very first week of working somewhere else. Guess this little experiment is working already!

The Euro Cup is very exciting. On Friday I went to the Arena (stadium) for the Bon Jovi show (which rocked, so stop your scoffing right now), and they showed the Netherlands vs. France match on the big screen before the band played. So exciting -- especially with about 20,000 people. So loud, so fun, so Hup! Hup! Holland!! Unfortunately, I know the French national anthem better than the Dutch one, but my friend Elissa and I managed to fake lip sync well enough to get by. Note to self: learn the Dutch national anthem.


I am on the set of "West Side Story"

Some young punks on the corner are singing the "Italia" anthem moments before the Euro Cup 2008 match between Italy and Netherlands starts. It is an epically beautiful evening, with the sky the brightest blue and more orange shirts in the streets than ever show up on Queens Day. Air horns, body paint and a real sense of excitement, even amongst the normally placid Dutch.

Tomorrow I start my first day at my new job, so that real sense of excitement might just be emanating from me like so much garlic, but I don't think so. It is a new chapter for me, and that is always a cause for celebration. More details to come.

We have all adjusted back to Amsterdam time and ways. On the way back from the phone store (which PROMPTLY closed at 6pm), Tom and I ran into a Dutch friend who is moving to Denmark tomorrow with his lovely Danish girl. For anyone who has ever emigrated to another city (within your country or not), you will recognize this moment as a watershed: you are minding your own business and hear your name called out from an outdoor cafe on the corner. You look over and see a friend who motions you over and asks you to stay for a beer. THAT is a sign that you have arrived and started creating a life. THAT is a cause for celebration.

Oh my god, Netherlands just scored. There is madness coming from the windows of apartments all over my neighborhood. Fantastic.

I know I need to share details of the trip, but I am loathe to try and write about it when I am still so in it. Suffice it to say that I was reminded how much I am loved just as I am and how amazingly lucky I am to have such amazing people in my life. I'll just go to the "Sound of Music" place and say, without embarrassment, that somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something seriously good. Nothing comes from nothing as they say.

WOW. Netherlands just scored again. Hup Holland!!!! Scream from the street! Yellow card!! I have to stop writing and start enjoying. I was far too green (te groen) to understand or participate in the glory that is European football when I moved here during World Cup 2006. Now that I am going on my third year, I can finally don my orange, push my way to the front of the pack and cheer along.


a fast update

I was in the US for three weeks and am now suffering major jet lag, combated by sleeping pills that wreck me until the early afternoon. So until I am back on my feet, there won't be any updates. But rest assured, there are stories to be told and photos to be shared once I am up and running on my own accord.

Until then, call me Judy and give me my beautiful dolls.