12.4.03

Question for You Folks

Hello! I have a quick question for those of you who read my blog. To the left of your screen there should be a series of links -- everything from my e-mail address to where I went to college to where I am now. However, sometimes the color of the link matches the color of the background perfectly, thus rendering the link invisible. Right now, are the links visible on your screen, or are they invisible? Do the links work? I would appreciate your feedback below. Thank you.

FYI -- In a couple of days I plan to post about my recent European Road Trip to Prague, Budapest, Munich, and (accidentally) Strasbourg.

6.4.03

Homesick

Sometimes I feel homesick, what with living across the ocean and all. Thanks to my friend Frank, who recently sent me a couple of Pete Seeger CDs, I have 'discovered' a song (it's an old song, though new to me). This song has become my Official Song to Sing When I'm Feeling Lonely. Wouldn't it be fun if the postal practices described in the lyrics below were a real possibility?! (Note: Though Seeger sang this song on one of the CD's, it's actually a Guthry tune.)

I'm a-gonna wrap myself in paper,
I'm a-gonna daub myself with glue,
Stick some stamps on the top of my head,
I'm a-gonna mail myself to you!

I'm a-gonna tie me up in a little red string,
I'm a-gonna tie blue ribbon too,
Climb up into my mailbox,
I'm a-gonna mail myself to you!

When you find me in your mailbox,
Cut the string and let me out,
Wash the glue off-a my fingers,
Stick some bubble gum in my mouth!

Take me outta my wrapping paper,
Wash the stamps off-a my head,
Pour me full-a some ice cream sodas,
Tuck me into a nice warm bed!

I'm a-gonna wrap myself in paper,
I'm a-gonna daub myself with glue,
Stick some stamps on the top of my head,
I'm a-gonna mail myself to you!


--Woody Guthry

21.3.03

War

We are now a world at war.

I am speechless and sad.

It is so easy to forget that it is real, this war -- that it is more than the images on our TV screens and the headlines in our newspapers. I think of the people who have died and are dying, who have fled and are fleeing, who are afraid, who are desperate. I think of the people who are courageous and outspoken in the face of real danger. I think of these people -- these people whom I don't know -- and I wonder who they are, what they are facing, what this war means for their daily lives. And as I think of these people -- these absolutely non-hypothetical people -- I pray for the courage to face the reality of war. I pray for continued awareness of how we are all connected, of how one part of the body cannot suffer without the whole body suffering.

Our world is suffering. Can we feel it? Dare we feel it? What will happen if we feel it? How will our lives change?
Cross-Cultural Coordination

Cross-cultural communication is difficult. This fact I was aware of before moving across the ocean last August. But what I never suspected to encounter was the difficulty of a little something called cross-cultural coordination! At least, that's my name for it. What is cross-cultural coordination? Let me put it this way... For those of you who were in marching band as teenagers, remember how difficult it was to walk and play your instrument at the same time? Remember how telling the difference between your right foot and left foot suddenly quadrupled in difficulty? Well, here in the Netherlands, while I'm not required to walk and play my instrument at the same time (unless I'm in the mood for it), I am often required to ride my bike and talk at the same time. This presents a few difficulties, to say the least ...

Let me explain. You see, even without the biking, talking is difficult because when I talk, I'm talking Dutch (which, although it's going quite well, is certainly not something that feels altogether natural to me as of yet). And even without the talking, riding bike is difficult because here in the NL, folks ride their bikes differently than folks in the States. You know how in the States you are taught to ride your bike single file, carefully following the person in front of you, making sure there's plenty of room for other vehicles to pass? Not so here. People ride bikes in clumps, and bikes are extensions of people's bodies. Think of a cluster of teenagers be-bopping around the mall somewhere, laughing, talking, exchanging witty anecdotes and such. Now imagine that they are on bikes -- and yet the ardor of their communication does not diminish, the fluency of their body language does not wane. That's what it's like here. I watch groups of bikers maneuvering effortlessly through narrow streets, somehow avoiding collisions with autos, busses, pedestrians, motorcyclists, and other bikers .... and cheerfully chatting with one another all along the way. I honestly don't know how they do it. When I try to speak Dutch and ride my bike at the same time, I end up in one of two sticky situations. Either 1) it takes me five minutes to utter one sentence in Dutch, because I'm so busy paying attention to all of the other people/bikes/motorcycles/cars, or 2) I speak somewhat fluently while nearly colliding with the aforementioned people or vehicles. Neither situation is ideal, to say the least. It must be quite comical for the Dutch folks who dare to go biking with me! Indeed, who knew that my inability to bike and talk at the same time would give me away as an out-of-towner? But I must say, I am slowly improving: I haven't fallen off my bike in the presence of another human being since last September.

7.3.03

Spellings

Here in the NL, "Jackie" is not a common name. Thus, people misspell it quite often -- usually, as "Jacky." However, today someone sent me an e-mail with a misspelling I've never before encountered -- "Jaycky."

This does not bother me ... in fact, I find it rather fun.