Route du Nord

I grew up in 'the oude noorden' of Rotterdam; the old North. An area where you're never more than 10 feet away from a kebab-shop or a Turkish supermarket or a cheap clothesshop with flashy synthetic outfits that no-one seems to wear in public. But once a year the cultural, artistic population that was hiding there all along, get the attention they deserve.
It's Route du Nord weekend.
And it's well worth a visit. This year the locations are marked by yellow tape as opposed to the confusing skippyballs that were hanging from the buildings in 2009. I do think that those skippyballs are re-used in a parcours at the Rotabs though...
Unfortunately some galleries (like LOE) were closed due to the match. I am slightly disappointed, because I wanted to use Route du Nord as an escape for everything orange and noisy. My attempt failed a bit, because even here radio's are blasting game-comments, at Rotabs there is a large screen and a woman in an orange t-shirt above plaited trousers and a sensible pair of glasses is playing an accoustic version of the Wilhelmus on an old guitar.
Not really what I expected of a wooden building that is hosting some of the most creative people/shops/expositions of Rotterdam. I am halfway through the Zaagmolenkade, looking at a red plastic rowing boat when I hear the vuvuzela's, screams and the radio-commentator saying: "Someone scored, but I wasn't paying attention, so who made the goal?". See, even people who are paid to watch football don't neccesarily want to or do so.

Here's some of my favourites:
a mobile made of drinking-straws (nr 33 on the map)
Fleurs bags at Rotabs, but I'm prejudiced (nr 16/32)
Noot&zo; a gem of a jewelery and ceramics-shop (nr 12)
3xS; nice shop with both secondhand and new one-of-a-kinds (nr 20)
'autumn' at a galery (nr 35)

So, if you're in the neighborhood, have a look and enjoy the art, cute shops, Doppio icecream, the tuktuks and the kebabs.

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.

Therese vs the Now

This blog comes with a Flow-warning.

Due to recent insight (read: stress-related miniature breakdown), I picked up my Eckart Tolle book again (A new Earth). It was gaining dust in an overly crowded bookcase, constantly being overlooked in favour of other books. Those of you who don't know the guy; he's Oprah's filosopher, the spiritual guidance-counselor alternative to Dr.Phil.
I realised the damages inflicted by doing a not-enough-fulfulling job for 2 years, needed repairing and with a mother like mine (she's a yoga teacher at the Noordsingel), you don't turn to medication; you turn to yourself, your friends&family, a strongly recommended work-appointed social worker and a helpfull book. I guess it took another bathroom-incident to turn back to the pages Tolle carefully wrote down and this time actually read and register the words on them.
So yesterday, on my way back home from work, I was reading yet another chapter on how to diminish the (my) ego by living in the now. There was a lovely illustration about a wise man raising another man's baby, because he accepts everything that life throws at him. In his case a lying teenmom's illegal bastard-child. Calling myself back into the now, is a big thing at the moment for me. It keeps me from worrying to much about things that haven't happened yet, and probably never will.
So when the commuter train stopped mid-track, between Schiedam and Rotterdam, I wasn't all that bothered. After ten minutes it was announced that hooligans were walking on the rails, but that still didn't interfere with my poise. Even after the conductor walked past and told us that we would be 'a while', I was still able to take the situation as it was and stick to page 166.
My poise and appreciation of the situation was seriously taken to the test when my neighbour wanted to share his view of the ordeal (see how it went from 'situation' to 'ordeal'?). In his eyes "all hooligans are mooching, aggresive parasites on wellfare and the train should just run over them, because they all deserved to die."
Confused on how to deal with this candid confession, I was able to shrug and say something along the line of "well, that would give to much of a mess and it would take ages to clean up all the bodyparts...".
I guess that's not the positive, calm response that Tolle would like to see, but it did pull my neighbour (a rough builder who probably votes Wilders) out of his negative realm and triggered the businessman next to him to join in on the conversation. And that's how a possibly annoying experience turned into making fun of my groceries (builder:"you must be really hungry", whilst pointing to my tiny container of Conimex-paste), talking about the book, eavesdropping on other passengers' conversations, cracking jokes that contained the words 'train' or 'track' and sharing Stophoest-sweets. Not bad at all.

But, in all fairness, I was relieved when the train reversed back into Schiedam and I could continue my journey to Rotterdam by subway. Because maintaining the 'here and now' (in hindsight the 'there and then') is pretty hard work! And I'm just not my best self when I'm getting hungry. Ok, I also wanted to go home to play with my new WII-game... In conclusion I think that mister Tolle has probably never been stuck in a train before; for God's sake, if it's not snow or wet leaves, it's hooligans bringing the railwaysystem down to a standstill!

But, that's all in the past now. Untill the next footballmatch. Or snowstorm. Or autumn.

Rotterdam vs the world...

My parents complained that my short videoclip 'suffering selfportraits' was too negative. They felt it didn't portray me fully, that it didn't capture my personality as a whole. Of course not! It's a range of failed selfportraits, of half, blurred, dark or double Therese's. I still think it's hilarious, but I guess we just don't share the same sense of humour. I still wonder where I get mine from... My green eyes and sense of guilt come from my mother. The mystery of why I don't look like my brother remains unsolved, although he seems to relate most to my sarcasm. Also, he is one of the funniest guys I know.
So my mum and dad suggested to make a clip of all the pretty pictures I took on my latest trip to Thailand. And as a good, attentive, obliging daughter, the only appropriate response was:
"Now, where is the fun in that?"
And I did what everybody would do when facing such a challenge:
I made an ode to Rotterdam. Therese-style. Ha! That'll teach them.



Dear mum & dad: I love you guys, but after 31 years you should know what I do with usefull suggestions or good ideas.

Home.

With my watch and my mind still on Thai time, as opposed to the more regularly used human time, I completely mucked up my arrival. I was convinced that by flying back on tuesday morning realy early on a 12 hour flight, combined with the time difference, I would arrive on wednesday morning. It wasn't until 5 hours before landing at Schiphol that I realized that is was, and would be still tuesday when I reached home...
Typical.
Changing back my biological clock and time-set aren't the only things I have to get used to after only one month in Thailand. When my mother picked me up from the trainstation, the first thing I asked her was: "Taxi by meter, ok? yes?". At home I searched my bags for toiletpaper before going for a wee, and afterwards threw the papers in the bin. Another amazing thing happened: I walked over a pedestrian crossing (zebrapad) and you know what? The cars actually stopped! I was so confused, I proceeded carefully whilst signaling a quiet 'Khap kun khaaaa' (Thai for 'thank you') to the drivers. Next on at the supermarket, I felt the need to negotiate on the price of vegetables; 1 euro for just a cucumber seems a bit steep, if you can get a Phad Thai for that money. Or a green curry with tofu... Or a coconutshake.
Ah well, I'm sure I'll settle in soon enough, I already put my gasheater back on and bought (and ate) some real cheese. In the meantime, I'll share my top 10 on Thailand:

10) Going home
I never appreciated hot showers and my green Dick Boons boots more than after spending only one month in Thailand.
9) KOC at Moon Star Studio
and talking to (not as much 'with') Erlend and Eirik. With a big thank you to Renika and Patricia.
8) Black lake and Karaoke
realising I'm my own guide again.
7) Watching the stars with a powerblack out and forgetting tides from a hammockmill
this also included a Snickers-shake, so I don't feel this needs more explanation.
6) Coconutshakes (and ice-coffees and ice-tea)
i hardly drank cocktails or alcohol, why would you with such marvelous other drinks? Good company also helps. With a big thank you to Beatrice, Vanessa and Manuel.
5) Food from a certain stall at Soi Rammbuttri.
I never ate so much rice in my life; for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Occasionally alternated with pad thai noodles. And then right back to rice.
4) Pai land
a small self-regulating farm right outside Pai; the sweetest thing I've ever seen (apart from the baby-kittens, but they were also in Pai).
3. Another hammock moment, but now with Peter's brother playing the guitar@Koh Chang
I was lying in his hammock, completely hidden from everything, liked an unpeeled banana while he was just quietly played his guitar. For me this was the closest to heaven I'd ever been.
2. Pai.
I could probably fill a whole top 10 with Pai-related events, but I won't (I dedicated 3 blogs to Pai and it has to end somewhere). I already feel like I cheated by referring to Pai land seperately. With a big thank you to Kat, Carol and Thomas (our little troop).
1. Diving @Koh Tao.
Yes, I'm as surprised as you are. For someone who doesn't like snorkeling (water-in- the-tube-trauma) and has a small fear of live swimming fish, getting my Padi was a big thing, and I never would have dreamt of enjoying it the way I did. Diving is like being part of a giant big screen television, but better.
With a big thank you to Jesse.

So, this is it. I'm back home. Bags are unpacked, laundry is drying, pictures are being developed and friends and family met again. My routine had missed me a lot, it couldn't wait to suck me right back in (it's just not the same without me). But hopefully I'll slow down a bit to a more Thai-time pace...

Big mistake!

Now what would a blog be without bloopers, also known as travelers mistakes. Their not all mine, I should add. Could be, but aren't.

T. Dutch, 31
"So this 'friendly' guy at the National museum warned me that the Grand Palace I was heading for was closed today at 3. Yeah, what a coincidence! So he was nice enough to literaly throw me in a tuktuk and get me towards this other budha (and a tourist information office and a tailor). When I got back to the guesthouse I read in my travelguide about this well known friendly-guy-telling-you-things-are-closed-scam..."

K. Irish, 28
"My luggage got lost at the airport, and I never pray for anything. But now I went to the grand temple to pray for my luggage to get back safely. When I left the temple I discovered that my brand new, custom-made, yellow Nike's had been stolen. And I wasn't even at the grand temple...."

T. German, 22
"I didn't even like Vietnam, but being tricked into a gambling scheme and losing 2500 dollars didn't help..."

NN. German, ?
"On one of my first travels I didn't lock my backpack properly and when I got to the guesthouse I noticed that someone had gone through my stuff. Luckily I hadn't left anything in there, but it's well known that things get stolen on the nightbus."

T. Dutch, 31
"I had just been warned that things get stolen on the nightbus. But when I got to the guesthouse I noticed that someone had gone through my not properly closed backpack. Unfortunately I had left some money in there and I lost 4000 Baht."

I. English, 47
"So I had this tuktuk-driver that was supposed to wait for me till I was done visiting this temple. I had made the mistake of paying him in advance and when I came back, he was gone. And so had the tuktuk."

B. English, 19
"In India I got pressured into buying this silk top, that was way over budget. But tuktuk-drivers can be very persuasive..."

T. Dutch, 31
"I thought I got a good deal buying two tv-series on dvd on the Chatachuk weekendmarket. When I got home, E4's 'skins' turned out to be 'Desperate Housewives season 6' and only works on my laptop. And the other one? Well, let's say that Simon Walker of 'the Mentalist' is just as handsome in black&white..."

Please feel free to add your (or others) mistakes in the commentsection below. My next blog will be written from home, see you soon!

Celebration!

For my two weeks anniversary (an occasion worth celebrating) of surviving Thailand more or less gracefully (you can decide after reading this blog), I treated myself to a spicy tuna salad. Of course this being Thailand, I don't know what to expect. I imagine something along the line of, you know, peppered tuna on a leaf of lettuce or two, but you never really know. After rice for breakfast (with green curry, vegetables and tofu) and rice for lunch (the sticky kind with mango and coconutsauce), I fancied a change, and I must admit, I'm not dissapointed.
I also did a bit of therapy shopping today, because I'm taking preventive malaria-medication and I call this urge a side-effect, next to the sleepiness. Also being forced in a local, hired outfit (I wasn't decent enough to enter the Grand Palace apparently) consisting of a, let's say loosefitting, synthetic blouse combined with a ankle-length wrapskirt (annex picnic-blanket) and almost ditching the 500 Baht deposit so I could keep these items, I realised how bored I am with the clothes that I brought with me.
The mute woman at the stall made some awkward noises, before it dawned on me that she was 'talking' to me. She blew up her mouth and cheeks, holding her arms in an uncharming manner on her hips and sticking out her non-existing belly. I guessed she tried to look like a...snowman? Oh. Or like me, I realized as she frantically pointed towards the rail with the 'large' t-shirts. Yeah, yeah, yeah. This would never happen at H&M.
I must be the only tourist in Thailand not losing any weight, but I'm actually finding my clothes tighter as I go along. A fact that has nothing to do with my washbasin-laundry skills, I want to add. Hopefully replacing the Green Ice Teas with water will help. These dearly beloved 'Green' Ice teas contain 13 teaspoons of suger per half liter. I was drinking 2 liters a day. Bare in mind that the iceteas already replaced the ice-coffees (wonderfully delicious, mainly because it consists of condensed milk and even more sugar).
Crap. I don't even like water... Ah well, maybe if I put some in my Ice Teas....

quick recap of the last few days:
Sukothai: lots of ruins, statues and ruined statues.
Bangkok: I met not one, but two Australian backpackers! In their early seventies, brothers-in-law, asking me for directions. Yeah. I know, the irony.
KOC: nobody ever heard of the Moon Star Studios, but I found them and two lovely local students to share the experience (and Erlend-jokes, sorry Erlend) with.

Koh Chang tomorrow, and I plan to get really bored there!