Commit color

For the first time in three weeks all is calm again on the Central Station in Rotterdam. Every morning me and other early-morning cummuting travellers got bombarded with leaflets, red tomato-shaped kichen sponges, teabags and other political party propaganda. My bike looked like a pr-approved advertisement as well, with a sadle cover, various stickers and a pamphlet attached to the frame with a tie-wrap.

I found myself smiling at campaigners who have my sympathy and quietly shaking my head to those who don't, dodging their party-programma and heading straight to the lady who hands out the Spits newspaper. She is there regardless the weather, elections or occasional competition from a rival rag; they all keep a respectfull distance and don't dare come close to her fixed spot (just under the glass roof halfway between a ticketmachine and the stairs to platform 15). Information-overload set in immediatly so I remained indesisive untill the tuesday before the wednesday of the election. The internet-tests, all four of them, and their conclusions just added to the confusion. Also bare in mind that a party programme is a compromise and accumulation of the opinions of the pary-members. They all feel the need to be heard, just like an average Dutch citizen. So how are we supposed to find ourselves represented in just one political view, let alone party? On electionday I tried to persuade my parents to vote, since I recently found out that they're not that interested in politics. They used to take me along when they filled in their votingcard at a local church. I always thought it was because they wanted to show me how important it was and I liked the booths and the queues; I was very easy to entertain. Turns out they had to take me, because they didn't want to leave me alone in the house. Twenty-something years later I am happy with my final choice (nr 15, PvdA).

And even though I was gobsmacked when I watched the exit-polls come in (a certain right-winged party has gotten a historical large amount of votes and corresponding seats in parliament; thus increasing polarisation which is never good), the initial shock has unexpectantly allready worn off, mainly because the other political parties don't seem to worry much. Most of all, who needs a productive political position anyway? A few months ago I watched the UK elections which were followed by a 5-day period of a hung parliament. Oh the commotion this caused! While in fact, the whole of Britain (and the rest of the world) kept going. Brits still went to school, to their off-license, watched Eastenders and drank tea.
The same goes for the Netherlands. On a day to day basis, I find myself feeling that nothing really changes; it still rains in june, I still have to do my own dishes and can eat, love and pray if I want to. And watch Eastenders. You don't see the result untill the long run. Because, unfortunately, political voting is like buying on credit; you don't get the bill plus surprise interest untill much later (and by then your new leather sofa that seemed like a good idea at the time, is torn and out-of-fashion). Plus the governement is a company that beholds the right to change their house-rules and regulations at any given moment (and no take-backsies).
In the meantime, it's a comforting thought that politics follow the tidal current just like everything else in history; it comes and goes and there's nothing new under the sun.