for serious? no, for JOKE

It Went Well!

I couldn’t sleep the night before the event, and I woke up in the morning rehearsing my talk to myself at breakfast.

The venue was beautiful – a building that was once a private home with an amazing view through some trees to the Baltic Sea.  The house was that 50’s retro modern chic – lots of wood paneling and huge windows bringing the outside in.  They had lots of art pieces (two Henry Moore statues for example) and a lovely collection of Mayan archeological treasures. 

There were probably about nine journalists there.  As I was waiting my turn to speak my tummy kept clenching and unclenching, it was agonizing.  I don’t even have a real fear of public speaking!  Can you imagine what it would be like for people who have a real phobia of public speaking?  I think it would simply be unovercomeable.  Completely incurable. 

I didn’t imagine the audience naked, nor any of the other suggestions I received via email or comments (which? I love!  Keep ‘em coming).  I just did the old-fashioned thing – tried to relax my sweaty palms, made a little joke when I stood up, and tested out my voice during the greeting.  It went fine!  I had rehearsed so many times I could just concentrate on making eye contact and speaking slowly. 

BIG SIGH OF RELIEF.

Ok and now you can all make fun of me about the following.  I had a one-on-one interview with a journalist after the event, and she wanted to take photos.  Of me.  In a grocery store.  Leaning into a fruit display.  Oh god I cant even write that without some shame burning on my face! 

This was all Tuesday.  Wednesday someone handed me a copy of the Finnish Daily Newspaper with my stupid mug in the pages.  Aaahhh!   I see my name in print a couple times but since its all in Finnish I can’t understand a thing of what I am supposed to have said.  And don’t even ask, ‘cause I am NOT posting the article.  Just picture me, self-conscious, with a crooked smile, leaning into a pile of bananas.  Enough said!

Work Nerves

I am having a little trouble calming down and going to sleep, in my Helsinki hotel room.  Guys, I have a press conference tomorrow.  That I am speaking at.  With REAL journalists etc.   I have what I am going to say down pat, rehearsed and all that, but I don't know, I am still jumpy.    Jumpy jumpy jumpy.  Nervy nervy nervy.

Do I imagine the audience naked or what?

I’ve Converted from Flemish/Dutch to Russian

I am a Great Offender of Hair Roots Growing In.   And here is my next confession: I am somewhat of a Bottle Blond.  Well I say “somewhat” because for a long time I seriously believed I was a real blond, “I am just covering up my grey hairs” when I dye it.   This confession takes me by as much surprise as it takes all of you (ha!).   Maybe all people who dye their hair harbor a secret belief that “that must be pretty close to my real hair color”.   Well, I haven’t taken care of my hair since end of July, and I have been watching with growing horror in the mirror the Roots. Grow.  In.  It was so bad it looked like someone painted a black stripe on the top of my head.  This has the wonderful affect of making your hair look constantly dirty.  Hideous I know.  I’ll stop the description right there.

So I got myself to the Salon this weekend.   I was trying to compromise between my two hair colors when I was looking in the Color Book.  In my jumbled description to the colorist I described absolutely nothing – make it brunette, but make it interesting.  This is one of the few times in life when not being descriptive at the hair salon actually worked for me.   I love my new cut and color!   I tried to take some pictures yesterday but they aren’t very color accurate – I am now a sort of dark glowing but natural looking auburn color.  It’s fantastic!  And it is cut; pretty much the same length but all the unhealthy bits trimmed and the right amount of pretty layers.   I am excited to start this upcoming week of more traveling/meetings/interviews with my fabulous new look.

The one mildly regrettable result from this is that I have eradicated all physical evidence of my Quarter Dutch bloodline by no longer being blond.  Everyone here is blond.  Blond and tall.  I am still tall, but no longer blond.   Instead of A Little Bit Dutch, I look A Little Bit Russian.  Maybe I can join the Smelyansky Family!

Here are some photo results:

For the Love Of Biking

If there was one feeling I wish I could describe to all of you, one photo or video I could make to capture the experience of living in Amsterdam, it’s the feeling of biking to and from work every morning and evening. 

I love that the exercise invigorates me enough to get all my adrenaline pumping and my serotonin levels up, without the discomfort of a workout sweat.  I relish the feeling of wind blowing in my ears and it picking up strands of my hair and blowing it straight backwards.  If I actually did ever blow dry my hair in the morning, I would want to do it exactly like that – blow it straight back with that feeling of moderate speed pushing you forward.

I love my legs pumping up and down and my laptop bag weighing heavy on my shoulder – ready to take on the next stage of work.  I love biking through streets just as people already are forgetting their work day and settling into a rickety wooden chair on a sidewalk with a glass of beer.  Lights are starting to come on around outdoor terraces and everywhere I hear conversation, as I zoom past on my sweet bike.  I even love that I can brake simply by pedaling backwards, and that my seat is squishy and comfy.

Last week’s Ego Crash notwithstanding, I love my new commute.  If I could add a soundtrack to a post, this one would have a sound loop of the rattle of my bike when my wheels are spinning but my feet are not pedaling, the sound of bike bells involuntarily tinkling as bikers cruise over cobblestones or a rough spot in the road, and the sound of my not-quite-heavy-breathing breathe.

Another day, another country. Home in Amsterdam...

Hey cats, it’s me again, reporting from this side of the Atlantic.  MY side.

Germany was cool, I suppose I never thought of it as a country I would really love, but I have made many mental notes to get back there and see more sights, check out the night life.   The amazing thing is that most German cities were literally bombed flat during the war, so depending on what city you’re in you can see some seriously ugly pre-fab proletarian housing mixed in with bits and fragments of ancient walls formerly belonging to churches, parliament buildings etc.  It’s an odd mix of ugly utilitarian “modernism” and ancient medieval to renaissance architecture.  Some old churches are left standing with obvious soot and bomb damage, which makes them even more interesting. 

In Berlin, the affect of The Wall is astounding.  For more than 28 years, the wall separated the city rather suddenly into two parts.  The wall spared nothing – slashing straight through streets, the S-Bahn, even cemeteries.  After it came crashing down on that fateful night in 1989, the Germans did a clever thing to preserve the memory – a small path (three bricks wide) is embedded in the road, parks, etc. to mark the exact location of the walls.   It’s crazy to see it snaking through the center of the city in the most bizarre, zigzagging way.  I think we crossed it at least five times, passing Check Point Charleie, on the way to our meeting.   

Everywhere in Berlin you can see construction cranes – they pepper the horizon.  Rebuilding, rebuilding, rebuilding in the works.  A whole flattened city rising again. 

But my favorite German city so far is Cologne (Köln, Keulen…).  The Dom there is immense!   

Can we just exclaim over the sheer size of that Dom?  Sheesh.   History feels like it’s literally pressing down on you with all its weight.

(By the way, the other guy in the picture is a colleague of mine.  He’s Ecuadorian and from royal lineage – a direct descendant of the royal Atahualpa, the Quito Inca.  I just learned that about him.  There are books written about his family and parental lineage. )

I went for a long run in Cologne along the Rhine River.  The sun was setting and there was a perfect path all along the shore banks leading for miles in both directions.  The water was sparkling and I could see the two tours of the Dom off to my right.  Boats were transporting their wares, be it bananas or scrap metal, all up and down the river, and lots of people were recreating along the shore.  Couples were dreamily making out by the water and I wondered how many were discussing marriage at that moment.   Elderly couples had dragged chairs and tables down and were picnicking with their tiny lap dogs at their feet.   Earnest looking German punk rocks kids were discussing things I could only barely understand as I ran past them.

Isn’t running one of the greatest forms of tourism?

Greetings from Berlin!

I was in Hamburg this morning, Berlin tonight, will be taking the train to Cologne tomorrow.  Wish I could just actually see something in each of these places! 

Total Ego Crash

I experienced all highs and lows yesterday... high on my work life, and low... like... on the muddy slippery asphalt in the middle of an intersection low!

It is a little weird to write about work on the internet, so I keep it to a miniumum.  Anyone ever hear of the term dooced?  Well I don't want to be dooced!  And I think HR wouldn't be too thrilled with too much public info.  Check out the original dooce here.  She's hilarious.

Now that I wrote my disclaimer I will write about work anyway.  I had a group meeting with a bunch of NGOs yesterday that I was nervous about, since I was the only person there from my organization and I was to lead the meeting.  But it went great!  I get such a rush from talking to people, talking about our work, and answering questions, it truly is a favorite part of my job.  (shhh, big ego coming in... I think I am pretty good at it too).

So there I am, biking home, with a huge smile on my face and my heart & head swelling a little bit still from my adrenaline rush from the meeting.  It's raining hard and my cute shoes and dry clean only skirt are getting a bit of a soak but I don't care because I had a great afternoon and hey! it rains sometimes in Amsterdam.  I confess, I don't quite understand all biking road rules here yet - I think I know the rules but no one seems to follow them, so I am the nerd waiting for a red light while people zoom past me.  On the occasions that I do venture into the illegal I always seem to get in trouble.  Well, I got into big trouble yesterday!

I have to cross a big intersection and turn left, so I stop at the sign and wait for the light to change.  I'm thinking, "I love my job!  And check me out - all knowledgeable on traffic rules on the bike, isn't this awesome?"  Green light comes on, and all the cars stop so that the bikers can cross.  I go, I bike, I start turning left.  It's a huge intersection and the dotted line for me to follow seems a little unreasonable to me, surely it'd be ok if I take just the turn a little sharper and cross quicker that way?    THEN.   My front wheel gets caught in the sunken tram track in the road (EVERY TOURIST/ROOKIE'S MISTAKE! ARGH!) and I can see it happening in slow motion, I completely crash to the ground.  I am talking laptop and papers all over the road, my bike ten feet away from me, and me crashing and scraping my entire left side on the asphalt.   In Dutch we have a word for this: afgang. It means a totally embarrassing and totally visible something happening to you.  Well, this was major afgang.  I am in a huge intersection and I am sure everyone is thinking "what an idiot!".   Hopefully they weren't also thinking "I think I saw her undies". 

I stand up, gather my things as quickly as I can.  My skirt is muddy and I am bleeding from my knees and ankles.  I try to gather whatever dignity I have left and ignore the shooting pain on my butt cheeks.  As I try to get back on my bike two girls on a TANDEM (double bike, completely difficult to navigate! but of course they do it gracefully) glide up to me and stop to help me up.  After showing some serious concern they try to make me feel better by saying "hey, everyone in this town falls off their bike at least once".

My butt hurts so bad that I am having a hard time sitting down.  I had to bike all the way home standing up, and am perched rather awkwardly on my work chair right now.  And I have a two hour train ride to Belgium this evening!  Doh! 

I went home and nursed my wounds... but also my poor ego!  I hate making the typical mistake.  But I will be more careful biking in the rain next time, and around those damn tram tracks!   

Fiancé

It's been a little disconcerting to slowly discover but it's true... Anuj does not read my blog.  He checks it maybe? Once every week or two.  I have friends who email me the moment I post something, but Anuj? Doesn't notice.  It's ok, I understand, we talk/chat/email/IM/phone every day, so what is he hoping to learn about me from an online journal?

So, heh heh, I've been joking I am going to start posting tidbits about him on the internet... which won't matter because he won't notice anyway!  We'll just leave it up until he figures out how to post a comment.

No!  I wouldn't actually do that (or, erm, not right now) to him, but it would have been funny.  Everyone who posts a comment can write something about Anuj! 

Amsterdam, how do I love thee?

Anuj was here this weekend and it was fantastic.  It was so great to spend full days with each other again, start our morning pot of coffee at the breakfast table and finish that same pot while sitting, and talking, on the couch.  Then stay sitting there long enough that it became time to make a follow-up pot of tea.  Having him here was a million times better even than seeing him in Wisconsin, because this was like a teaser, a preview into what our life will be like when he moves here permanently.  And also a nostalgic reminder of how great it was in NYC. 

I think moving here scared me initially, because I thought back to time when I wasn’t so good at being in a new place.  My year in Paris scored pretty low on my enthusiasm scale, though at 17 I felt like there was constantly some adventure that I seemed to just be missing.  My first year of college wasn’t what I expected.  Sometimes when you have high expectations they don’t get completely filled.  But Amsterdam?  Even though it was a year coming, I barely had time to anticipate it.  Amsterdam!  I was too busy going out with friends, buying an apartment, training for my new position at work, getting engaged, planning a wedding!  Though I saw it coming months and months in advance, it didn’t hit me until a few days before, when it was too late to anticipate and time to mourn, mourn, mourn, the loss of my fabulous life in NYC and my daily life with Anuj. 

But taking that two hour bike trip around the city last weekend, and walking around this weekend, discovery!  No big surprise I guess, but this city is fantastic.  And I am really happy here.  I am not bored in the evenings, I don’t feel extreme loneliness in the middle of an afternoon, I am happy in the mornings on my way to work!  It’s great, and it’s unanticipated, and it’s adventurous and it’s exactly what I want.

Another time I left for somewhere new, was slightly unprepared, and had a great time?  My six months in Mali, West Africe.  I was preoccupied with mom’s operation at the time, to the point of no longer wanting to go, but when I got there, it was a life changing experience that I want to repeat three times over.

Is the moral of my story that you should face life’s challenges unprepared?  Absolutely not.  But not worrying too much seems to help. 

Off again...

Off to Germany this week, folks, and Denmark as well.  I am not sure I will be able to update this work week.