Wednesday, November 30, 2005

The sun is (sort of) shining today. Oh thank god... I think I was getting close to finding the tallest windmill and flinging myself from it.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

I know I've already given you an "Angela gets naked with strangers" story but you're gonna get another...

Last Thursday, while all of you were gorging yourselves with turkey, it started to snow here. A lot. Now, you may think "huh... snow in the Netherlands... uuuuhhh duh... that seems normal" but I can assure you, it's not. According to Martijn, it only snows a few times a year... mostly it's just horribly depressing gray and rainy. (great for the psyche, let me tell you)

So, we woke up Friday morning to snow snow snow that continued through the day. Very beautiful. (and treacherous... nobody has winter tires here. But it's amusing too... these people still attempt to bike even when the roads are slick with ice and snow. Diehard Dutchies....)

I know you're saying to yourself, this is all well and good Ang, but where does the nudity come in? Be patient, I'm getting there...

The white stuff continued through Friday night and into Saturday. Again, we woke up to big fluffy flakes coming down. Martijn was very excited by the weather and proposed that we make our snow-filled Saturday special by... you guessed it... getting naked in it.

After a truly miserable grocery shopping experience, we headed to a local sauna/spa in a nearby town called Odenzaal. It was very plush... very comfy... and very much like the spas I'm used to in the States -- with one exception. The major focus is on the sauna so the clientele is pretty evenly divided between men and women. (and kids... there was a dad there with his young daughter and son. I think most Americans would freak out and think "oh my god... people are looking at my naked children!!! Let me assure you, no one here cares.)

We checked in at the front desk and headed to the coed changing room. Yup, there's no respite from the constant coed nakedness... you even have to dress and undress with each other. Okay, no problem. This I can do.

We undressed, donned our robes (you bring your own) and strolled out to the sauna area. I was immediately greeted with the sight of an elderly Dutch couple sporting nothing but tans and flip flops. (so THAT'S what I'm going to look like one day...)

M gave me a quick tour of the place and our options for the day. There are the footbaths (apparently this is how the Fins do it -- they start the whole process by warming their feet in a hot bath), the steam rooms (one's cooler than the other), the infrared sauna (relaxes the muscles), the rose sauna (smells nice), a room that is kept at the same temperature as your body and therefore promotes sleep, and a whirlpool.

But wait, there's more.

There's an ICE bath with real live chunks of ice floating in it. What the??!! Ain't no way I'm getting into that thing. Outside there's a swimming pool (hmmm... will that be chilly?), a hot tub (ah ha... this I like. This I can do), an outdoor ice cold mini-pool (um no. This i can't do), and a large outdoor sauna where they do a special sort of treatment which includes a man swinging a towel around in order to scorch you with extremely hot air. But then he serves you fruit, so it's okay.

And this treatment is how we started our day -- in a wooden box sweating our butts off with 30 other naked people. (Did I mention I had to walk, through snow, stark naked to get to that box? Tra la la la, this is all so natural for me... yes indeedy, here I go... put my towel here... stroll casually through snowflakes past 20 people in my birthday suit.... la la la... yes we Americans do this ALL the time.)

To make a long story... um... well... not as long, it was actually quite a beautiful experience. The snow made everything really serene and special and at one point Martijn and I were swimming in the pool alone while huge snowflakes drifted into our hair. It was a day I'll remember forever.

And I'm VERY proud to say that I did indeed jump into the outdoor icecold pool. And believe it or not it was quite nice. (uh, after I got out)

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Things I feel thankful for:

1) My robust health (both mental and physical... though some may argue with me about that first one)

2)My wonderful parents. In short, they're cool.

3) My new and equally wonderful boyfriend. He's a rare one and I feel incredibly lucky to have found him. (and that he loves me in return)

4)My bestfriends. I have an amazing group of friends and I hope we'll remain close for the rest of our lives. I have visions of us at age 67 sitting on a beach somewhere drinking margharitas and talking about our crotchety old husbands and adorable grandchildren.

5) My new home... and the chance to start over.

6) The rest of my family, small though it may be.

7) The rest of my friends and the new ones I'll make here.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Last night, Martijn and I visited his gym so I could get the "official" tour and decide if I want to become a member. (Of course, I want to become a member. Have I mentioned how much cheese I eat here? I think I can actually feel my butt expanding on a daily basis.)

First (and I would love to show pictures, but, alas, it didn't occur to me that I should take a camera to the gym) the place is very gezellig. (I think I've used this handy Dutch word before, but let me re-explain. It sort of means cozy, but it generally implies that things are cozy because of the people that are there in addition to the decorations.) Anyhoo... I've never been in such a cozy gym. There were nice furnishings, lovely colors on the walls, lamps, massage chairs, and a cute little area where you can consume cookies, coffee and other FREE beverages while you chat with other gym-goers. Yes, free... wellllllllll, you know that you're paying for it in your monthly membership, but it's all about the psychology of it. I mean, I can walk up and get a very nice cappucino (or 10) and I don't have to pay a dime. (um, 10 Eurocents, rather) It made me feel very gezellig.

So, we started the evening by playing squash. That's sort of like raquetball but it's the Euro-trash version of it. I soon realized that a) I like this sport, b) I'm exceedingly out of shape and c) even when I'm losing horribly, I still talk trash to my opponent. (oh wait, I've always done this and always known that I do it. my bad)

blah blah blah woof woof woof... let's get to the good part...

I -- an American, born and bred in the Puritanical and therefore thoroughly-clothed US of A -- met my boyfriend in the COED NAKED SAUNA. (gasp!) Yes, folks, you read it right. I sauntered in there with nary a stitch on my body like I owned the place. And then, in bad American fashion, I proceeded to check out the goods of every other naked person in there. "Hmmm... she has better thighs than me, but way more belly fat." "Wow... nature was very kind to that guy!" "Oh... poor man... I bet he compensates with a red sportscar."

Need I say that my time in the sauna was highly entertaining? At one point, there were 7 of us naked people in one tiny little sauna. (Um... imagine, bigger than a cubicle, but smaller than that corner office you covet.)

After you roast in dry heat (hey, I may not be having Thanksgiving this year, but by God, I do know what your turkey's gonna feel like) you should douse yourself thoroughly with icy cold water. There's even a bucket suspended from the wall for this purpose. You pull a rope and Gooooosssshhhhh! You're drenched in water that seems to have recently melted from an iceberg.

I did not do this. I took the wimpy way out and stuck my toe into a cold (oh alright lukewarm) shower. (But I was still naked and surrounded by half a dozen people so I think I should still get some props!)

In a word... I had fun. And again, I wish I'd had my camera with me, but then I would've REALLY been a bad American.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Alrighty, so the big dreaded "Meeting of the Parents" wasn't too bad. They seemed quite nice, if a tad... um... well... reserved. But, hopefully, future meetings will be even smoother.

I managed to make a meal that his parents enjoyed (erg lekker! "very tasty") and they're was only one moment that was horribly awkward -- when M's mom let loose on how crappy she thinks the US's system of government is and explained that the Dutch way is superior. Ummmm... okay. She might be right, but did I need to be given this opinion the FIRST night we met? I don't think so. (A friend suggested that maybe this was her way of venting her frustration at me for being the cause of "the breakup." Hmmmm... interesting theory... )

On the bright side, M's dad is definately attractive and now I have high hopes for M's aging process. :-)


Saturday, November 19, 2005

I meet Martijn's parents for the first time tonight. They're coming to our place for dinner. M keeps telling me not to be nervous, but of course, I am. Can't help it. I keep having visions of them saying to me "Soooo, you're the older American divorced women who snatched our Martijn away from his sweet Dutch girlfriend!"

Friday, November 18, 2005


Been surfing around on other people's blogs and shamelessly stole this picture from one of them:



Also, I've now made it possible for non-blogger subscribers to comment on my blog. I had no clue I could even do this.

Thursday, November 17, 2005








It's Sinterklaas time in the Netherlands which is a sort of Christmas before Christmas. Well... that's how I think of it, but I've been told a million times that "nooo... our Sinterklaas has nothing to do with Santa Claus. It's a totally different thing." (and in fact, they do celebrate Christmas here and this holiday is accompanied by the jolly ol' fat man that we Americans know and love)

Anyhoo... it's somewhat hard for me to explain... but basically it's a feast to celebrate Saint Nicholas' birthday, which is celebrated on December 5th. However, Sinterklaas sets sail from Spain (huh? Why Spain?) and arrives, by boat, in the Netherlands earlier than that (last Saturday to be exact). Once here, he delivers gifts to all the good dutch girls and boys and the bad ones he whips with a stick. (um, yeeeaaaaahhhh)

But that's not the crazy part. Sinterklaas is accompanied by his Zwarte Pieten (say: zvarta peetin -- Black Peters) Now... nobody's really sure who these guys are, other than they are Sinterklaas'... um.... helpers. (no no no... they are not servants, though apparently they do all the work while Sinterklaas takes it easy... you know, sips coffee and smokes some weed...) Some say the tradition stems from the Moors in Spain. Others, that they're black because they were chimney sweeps. See this website for a good description of the holiday: http://www.galactic-guide.com/articles/13R2.html

But what they really are are pasty pale Dutch guys in blackface. Now, as you can imagine, part of me wanted to have a heart attack when I saw them. (and the dozens of little kids whose faces were also painted black in emulation of Piet) But nobody seems to be offended here because, well, they just don't have the ingrained race problems we have in the States. Oh yeah, and apparently the Piets are a bit mischevious, if not downright bad. Apparently, a common Dutch parent threat is (which frightened Martijn to death when he was a kid): "If you're not good, Zwarte Piet will throw you in his sack and take you to Spain!!" I, for one, am doing everything in my power to be as bad as possible because after experiencing a few weeks of the Dutch autumn, I would really like to be taken to Spain.

Anyhoo, enjoy the pics and go to the website to better understsand the holiday.



This is the first of the Zwarte Pieten arriving in the harbor. Note that some of the Black Peters are already swinging from a crane on the right side of the picture.

Dutch children dressed like Pete, sans blackface.

Here comes Sinterklaas' ship! (The horse on the sail is the symbol of this region the Netherlands.)

Me, putting on my most innocent face, so I'll get candy from Black Pete. (the Petes are a tough crowd. You gotta look pathetic to get the goods.)

Success! Pete gave me some tasty pepernoten.

A typical response to Pete "Hmmmm... I want what he has, but I"m also a little afraid of this guy..."

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Martijn and I live right beside the train tracks. (whether we're on the right side or the wrong, I have no clue...) When I was still in the States (and China), Martijn and I would talk on the phone and when he was outside, I could hear the trains rumbling by. Loudly.

So, when he asked me to come live with him I thought "How am I ever going to tolerate these trains screeching past my home 10 times an hour?"

Well, I've come to find that you can't really hear them when you're inside and even more than that. I LOVE seeing them whiz past my windows. At night, you get a fleeting glimpse of the people sitting in the brightly-lit cars and you know that they're headed home to their families... or traveling to some interesting locale...

This affection must stem from my inherent wanderlust. It somehow makes me feel secure to know that within minutes I could be at a train station and on my way to Rome or Budapest or even to close-by Amsterdam.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

It's official... I'm now integrating into Dutch life very nicely.

I biked today to the farmer's market. It was cold. It was gray. But there was a moment when I thought "Hmmm... it's nice outside today. Not too bad." Then later, I biked to the pharmacy and IT WAS RAINING.

Ugh.

No wonder pot is legal here.

Friday, November 11, 2005

I had my first herring, Dutch style. Now... the proper time of year to enjoy this treat is in the spring when the herring first come in, but apparently they're "jaaaa... okay... still nice" anytime of year. Though in November, they're a bit more salted.

Anyhoo... Martijn and I were wandering around the farmer's market in the center of Enschede when he took me over to one of the fist stalls. There, laying on the ice, were little fish, about 5 or 6 inches long. They've been completely fileted (no head, thank god... I saw enough of those in China), but they still have the skin on the they're little tails. The fishmonger (I love that word) sprinkled a few chopped onions on the inside of the fish and then rolled the outside in them a bit too.

Now, here's the fun part: You pick the fish up by the tail, tilt your head way back and chomp on the little bugger until you'v eaten your way to the tail.

I have to say, it wasn't too shabby. Despite the odd presentation and style of consuming, it's sort of like sashimi.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

So much to report, but not right now...

However, today I met the other American woman who lives in my apartment complex. I'm relieved to say she's cool and we hit it off immediately. Whew!

We biked to town (very Dutch) and had lunch and coffee (the coffee part is very Dutch) and then she came home to meet my kitties.

I immediately saw that one of my kitties had a little accident -- peed on the couch in the TV room. Er... bad bad bad kitty.

Did I mention that my new boyfriend previously hated cats (because of a bad experience) and is really bending his ways in having my two little furry ones here.

He comes back tomorrow. This should be interesting.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Okay, so here's my first week in a nutshell:

Monday -- on the way to the airport
The trip down to Dulles was uneventful. The woman who drove me, Angie, was very nice and we chatted throughout the whole trip. She of course asked me "Why the Netherlands?" and I gave her the whole story. And funnily enough, she had her own story to tell me. Turns out her husband is Norwegian and after they'd known each other for only a month or so, he went back to Norway, quit his job, and moved to the US to be with her. :) They've now been married for 4 years.

The kitties (I suspect it was Hobbes) had a little accident on the way down. I asked Angie to stop at a gas station so I could clean the cage a little bit. Otherwise the smell would've asphyxiated us before we ever reached Dulles. Ah... I love my little darlings.

Monday -- at the airport
Oh. my. god. I NEVER want to travel with pets again. It was an absolute nightmare. It took me an hour and a half to check in. I stood there waiting and waiting while British Airways employees kept throwing little gems at me like "Well, I'm not sure you can travel with both cats in one carrier," and "you owe us $825 to take your cats with us." At one point, I was so frustrated, I started crying. (big surprise there) They made me take Tucker out so they could measure her shoulders (because you know they're so prominent through all that fat) to ensure that the cage was 3 times wider than her. (thank god it was her shoulders and not her ample tush) Eventually, I paid $578 to transport them ($53 more than I'd tripled confirmed with them earlier) and both kitties were able to go in one carrier. For my trouble, they upgraded my seat to a slightly nicer one -- right in the front row of "World Class" -- whatever the hell that is. It was great, I could perfectly see into business class and notice that half the cabin was empty and that their seats laid down totally flat. They looked so comfortable. sigh...

Monday/Tuesday -- the flight
I slowly started to hate the business class people in their cushy seat/beds as I became more uncomfortable. I did manage to get about 2 hours of sleep, though. Oh and the food was very good. I mean, it wasn't like dining at Tavern on the Green or anything but it was definately enjoyable for airline food.

Tuesday -- my London layover
Worried about the kitties the entire time. Drank a Starbucks latte. (my last expensive indulgence for awhile)

Tuesday -- Flight from London to Amsterdam
Panic started setting in. What the hell am I doing??? What if this doesn't work out??? All the way there, I felt like I'd consumed about 50 cups of coffee. Jitter jitter... bzzzz... bzzzzz... My nervousness was punctuated by moments when I felt really happy and then I'd get this goofy grin on my face. I'm sure the guy next to me thought I was a psychiatric patient.

Tuesday -- Amsterdam arrival
In line at customs, I worried for a moment that they wouldn't let me in. Like they'd ask me a trick question -- "What was the name of our queen in 1576?" -- and when I answered wrong they'd send me home on the next plane. Fortunately, the Dutch seem to not care one farthing that I want to live amongst them. The customs officer gave me a bored look when I told him I was relocating here "Jaaaaaa... okay... then you must go to the Foreigners' Police. Next!"

I wandered bleary eyed around the luggage carousels wondering if my kitties would show up next to my suitcases on the conveyor belt. I walked up to an information desk to ask and was surprised when I saw Martijn on the other side of the glass behind the information area. He gave me a huge smile and waved. I got a big stupid smile on my face too and I could feel myself blushing, especially when a slow smile started to spread across the face of the man in front of me. He must've thought I was hitting on him. (and that was only reinforced later when I walked away and kept looking back to smile at Martijn. The information desk guy kept smiling back at me. He probably thought "Wow those Americans are soooo friendly.")

My kitties and luggage soon showed up and, to my profound relief, Tucker and Hobbes were safe and sound.
I walked out to the visitors area with my things piled high on a luggage cart (the kitties on top). The agents there asked if I had paperwork for the cats. I said yes. They said okay, go on. What?? You don't even want to see it?? This paperwork cost me $350 and huge amounts of stress!! The Dutch apparently also don't care one farthing that my cats want to live amongst them too.

Martijn and I hugged and kissed nervously and basically giggled like idiots. Okay, I giggled like an idiot. I was so nervous. I mean, I know this person, I love this person, but it's been three months since I've seen him (and only about a month that I've spent in his presence) and well... this is just weird. After a few mintues of um... what would you call it? getting reacquainted?, we started for the car. We stepped onto a conveyor belt type escalator (meaing there was an upward slope to it) and Martijn promptly knocked my kitties onto the ground. They fell about 4 feet onto the belt. Ah yes, excellent first impression. The kitties weren't hurt but I think I did detect a bit of an accusatory look like "You made us travel in a PLANE for TEN HOURS and NOW your new boyfriend dumps us onto the ground!!! What the hell, mom!"

Tuesday -- the drive to Enschede (pronounced En-ssccchhhha -day -- basically say that middle part like you're clearing your throat. This language is fun.)
This place is reeeallly flat. There are lots of cows and sheep grazing in very green (and flat) fields. There are many traffic jams and there are sensors that detect how traffic is moving and then adjusts the speed limit accordingly. (the speed limit is displayed on electronic signs)

Alright, I've gotta cop out here before giving you most of the week. Some of my packages arrived a few days ago and I need to run down to the post office to retrieve them.

Monday, November 07, 2005

I'm here. My kitties are safe. Dutch weather is dismal (though to be fair not too terribly different than what I was experiencing in Pennsylvania.) The people are tall and their cars are small. It's almost impossible to buy butter in this country. (why? i have no clue. there are cows EVERYWHERE)

I have much to report, but I find that I'm exhausted. However, I'm alone this week so I will write a nice long entry very soon.