Testing here is not very much fun. We have only taken our classes here for 8 days or fewer in some cases and it's not easy acclimating to a new academic system. Regardless of this, thankfully they are over for the time being and I can spend a stress-free weekend traveling.
18.8.11
17.8.11
Sorry for the delay
Following our time in Delft, we went to the nearby kinderdijk where we finally got to see some windmills. The area was fairly stark, but the windmills were a welcome sight and actually quite prevalent in the part of the country in which we found ourselves.
Today was fun and I hope tomorrow's finals go well.
14.8.11
The weekend
Saturday I went to Amsterdam. Sunday I went to Rotterdam. This evening is the first time the sky has been clear enough for me to see the moon since I arrived. It is very bright and very full. Since the same side of the moon always faces the Earth, even though you may be hours away, we always see the same thing.
12.8.11
The rest of the day
Given the events of the late-afternoon, this morning almost seems as if it occurred yesterday. In my experience time actually moves faster here. I wake up early, go into the city for class, wander, and by the time I return it is already late. If you don't believe me then why is it almost Zaterdag, excuse me that's the Dutch slipping in, Saturday in the Netherlands while it is still Friday morning in the US?
Regardless, or as our former president would say, irregardless of my conceptions of time, this morning I went on a field trip, or the college equivalent of one, to Lombok, a Turkish and Moroccan town (or district, I'm not quite sure how areas are classified here in every case) in Utrecht. Though we were warned both directly and indirectly in lecture when we learned about the view of Geertz Wilder's "Freedom Party" towards immigrant and especially Muslims, that the neighborhood could be dangerous, we all loved it. Between classes early today, we biked to the other side of Utrecht Centraal, the location of Lombok, parked our bikes, and walked around. The area was full of shops with inexpensive and fresh fruit and interesting foods representing the local ethnicities. We each picked up fruit, and later stopped for a Turkish pizza; pizza being a word that obviously wasn't translated very well from Turkish. Despite the unfamiliar taste, the "pizza" was quite good and fueled me for the rest of our trip down the Lombok main street. Unfortunately, the street didn't continue as long as those in downtown Utrecht do, and we ended up turning around at a draw bridge marking the end of town.
Contrary to our expectations, and the pejorative rhetoric of the Freedom Party, Lombok was an enjoyable community that, thanks to its fresh fruits, good restaurants and bakeries, and, arguably most importantly, its inexpensive pricing, we will be frequently returning to.
Regardless, or as our former president would say, irregardless of my conceptions of time, this morning I went on a field trip, or the college equivalent of one, to Lombok, a Turkish and Moroccan town (or district, I'm not quite sure how areas are classified here in every case) in Utrecht. Though we were warned both directly and indirectly in lecture when we learned about the view of Geertz Wilder's "Freedom Party" towards immigrant and especially Muslims, that the neighborhood could be dangerous, we all loved it. Between classes early today, we biked to the other side of Utrecht Centraal, the location of Lombok, parked our bikes, and walked around. The area was full of shops with inexpensive and fresh fruit and interesting foods representing the local ethnicities. We each picked up fruit, and later stopped for a Turkish pizza; pizza being a word that obviously wasn't translated very well from Turkish. Despite the unfamiliar taste, the "pizza" was quite good and fueled me for the rest of our trip down the Lombok main street. Unfortunately, the street didn't continue as long as those in downtown Utrecht do, and we ended up turning around at a draw bridge marking the end of town.
Contrary to our expectations, and the pejorative rhetoric of the Freedom Party, Lombok was an enjoyable community that, thanks to its fresh fruits, good restaurants and bakeries, and, arguably most importantly, its inexpensive pricing, we will be frequently returning to.
Exploring
Today I rode out to the UU campus with a couple of friends. Since they were both staying there, we didn't remain at the campus long, but rather went to look for the old military installations left over from both world wars. After biking along a path with trees and a large river on one side and rolling pastures filled with cows, sheep, and the occasional rabbit on the other side, we finally found the first of the forts. The concrete bunkers we found were nestled into the side of knolls facing the river. they were awesome in and of themselves, but after parking our bikes and exploring further, we realized they were there to guard a much larger fort on the island at the center of the river. We chained our bikes to a bench nearby and walked through a gate to the path leading around the river.
As we walked around, the fort on the island became clearer and our preeminent goal became to reach it. Despite our goal, we were still stopped on our journey by a multitude of other fascinating items such as the remnants of old military trenches and a cottage made entirely of concrete. Eventually we saw the bridge to the island and on our way to it were stopped by fence and a rope delineating the paddock of a flock of sheep. Defeated, we turned around and after successfully summiting the concrete cottage, headed back to our bikes. Before long we ran into an elderly Dutch couple and inquired about the fort. They were incredibly helpful, explaining that the fort was open for a limited time now, but a tour needed to be charted to get over to it. They also shared with us some the history of the area, something hard to come by given that every sign was in Dutch. The small bunkers in the area were actually built by the Nazis during the occupation of the Netherlands and they used them to protect the World-War-One-era fort that they controlled. As soon as this information was imparted we were besieged by a deluge of sheep who had followed us away from their pen. Thankfully the amount of sheep excrement on the ground, something that before had made it much more slippery to climb onto the cottage, relieved my fear that we had just started a mass sheep exodus. Despite that fear being alleviated, I was still wary of the large flock of sheep descending on our position. The elderly couple promptly walked on, but unfortunately for us the sheep were blocking the exit.
Thanks to my goat-wrangling skills acquired helping John at Nueva, I quickly took care of the goat's wooly cousins and the exit was clear. Before leaving, however, I made sure to pet all of the baby sheep; one white, one brown, and one black, and we made fast friends much to the chagrin of their parents.
After mounting our bikes, we again took-off. Passing pastures of cows juxtaposed with bunkers resting in the center of their grazing land was quite a sight. Along the same road, we passed a farmhouse with a large number of families on the property. I quickly stopped and dismounted my bike to read the sign and promptly remembered that I don't Dutch. After that sobering realization we continued on our way back.
Our final stop was something found only in my greatest dreams. De pannenkoekenhuis, just saying this word brings a tear to my eye. Out in the middle of the forest and countryside we had found a big-red pancake house, that judging by the large amount of automobiles present (an odd sight in a country of mostly bikers) was immensely popular. Upon further inspection we realized that this was the same restaurant recommended to us privately by our instructor Jaap after class on the first day. The old-styled thatch roof adorning the building and its river-adjacent location made me feel like someone in a Tolkien novel, while the stunning playground made my friend Charles remark, "I know I'm 21, but that is a really cool slide." Unfortunately as it was getting late and none of us had money, we turned around and left the pannenkoekenhuis for another day.
While biking back to school we came upon another flock that I hadn't expected. What could only be described as a murder of hot-air balloons, a sight I can't recall ever seeing in person, sailed over the tree lines of the nearby fields, giving a fitting ending to an eventful day.
As we walked around, the fort on the island became clearer and our preeminent goal became to reach it. Despite our goal, we were still stopped on our journey by a multitude of other fascinating items such as the remnants of old military trenches and a cottage made entirely of concrete. Eventually we saw the bridge to the island and on our way to it were stopped by fence and a rope delineating the paddock of a flock of sheep. Defeated, we turned around and after successfully summiting the concrete cottage, headed back to our bikes. Before long we ran into an elderly Dutch couple and inquired about the fort. They were incredibly helpful, explaining that the fort was open for a limited time now, but a tour needed to be charted to get over to it. They also shared with us some the history of the area, something hard to come by given that every sign was in Dutch. The small bunkers in the area were actually built by the Nazis during the occupation of the Netherlands and they used them to protect the World-War-One-era fort that they controlled. As soon as this information was imparted we were besieged by a deluge of sheep who had followed us away from their pen. Thankfully the amount of sheep excrement on the ground, something that before had made it much more slippery to climb onto the cottage, relieved my fear that we had just started a mass sheep exodus. Despite that fear being alleviated, I was still wary of the large flock of sheep descending on our position. The elderly couple promptly walked on, but unfortunately for us the sheep were blocking the exit.
Thanks to my goat-wrangling skills acquired helping John at Nueva, I quickly took care of the goat's wooly cousins and the exit was clear. Before leaving, however, I made sure to pet all of the baby sheep; one white, one brown, and one black, and we made fast friends much to the chagrin of their parents.
After mounting our bikes, we again took-off. Passing pastures of cows juxtaposed with bunkers resting in the center of their grazing land was quite a sight. Along the same road, we passed a farmhouse with a large number of families on the property. I quickly stopped and dismounted my bike to read the sign and promptly remembered that I don't Dutch. After that sobering realization we continued on our way back.
Our final stop was something found only in my greatest dreams. De pannenkoekenhuis, just saying this word brings a tear to my eye. Out in the middle of the forest and countryside we had found a big-red pancake house, that judging by the large amount of automobiles present (an odd sight in a country of mostly bikers) was immensely popular. Upon further inspection we realized that this was the same restaurant recommended to us privately by our instructor Jaap after class on the first day. The old-styled thatch roof adorning the building and its river-adjacent location made me feel like someone in a Tolkien novel, while the stunning playground made my friend Charles remark, "I know I'm 21, but that is a really cool slide." Unfortunately as it was getting late and none of us had money, we turned around and left the pannenkoekenhuis for another day.
While biking back to school we came upon another flock that I hadn't expected. What could only be described as a murder of hot-air balloons, a sight I can't recall ever seeing in person, sailed over the tree lines of the nearby fields, giving a fitting ending to an eventful day.
Night Kayaking
Tonight I went on a fantastic kayaking trip along the Utrecht canals. It was amazing seeing the city from such a different perspective, and seeing how interconnected the canals are throughout the Netherlands. Since the trip was coordinated through the great UU summer program rather than through UCEAP program, we went along with a number of foreign students from throughout the world. Along the trip I made friends with a Flemish student and his Portuguese rowing partner. The only drawback of the trip aside from its late culmination was getting another full set of clothes, literally every article of clothing I had on, soaking wet for the second time in a day. Meeting new people and going kayaking was a great way to spend a Thursday night.
Though I didn't go into great detail, the kayaking trip was a very eventful experience. Here are a few more details missed in my first post:
At times we brought together a number of kayaks and formed a large raft on which we could more easily meet people from other countries. Throughout the trip I had a nice banter with the student from Belgium, reminding him of a lack of coherent government in his country, and asking about his love for waffles. My rowing partner (who for the record was awful) and I had a sort of competition with to Spanish students to see who could reach each stage the most quickly. As there was a boat occupied by one girl from Hong and another from Taiwan, both of whom repeatedly crashed, our victory in our contests with the Spanish usually resulted from finally passing the crashing boat. Also on the trip I watched people at a bar play snooker: a game which frankly is so boring it should never have been created. Kayaking was also a great way to see not only the restaurants on the water, but also into the fascinating homes of those who live on the canal-level as well.
Though I didn't go into great detail, the kayaking trip was a very eventful experience. Here are a few more details missed in my first post:
At times we brought together a number of kayaks and formed a large raft on which we could more easily meet people from other countries. Throughout the trip I had a nice banter with the student from Belgium, reminding him of a lack of coherent government in his country, and asking about his love for waffles. My rowing partner (who for the record was awful) and I had a sort of competition with to Spanish students to see who could reach each stage the most quickly. As there was a boat occupied by one girl from Hong and another from Taiwan, both of whom repeatedly crashed, our victory in our contests with the Spanish usually resulted from finally passing the crashing boat. Also on the trip I watched people at a bar play snooker: a game which frankly is so boring it should never have been created. Kayaking was also a great way to see not only the restaurants on the water, but also into the fascinating homes of those who live on the canal-level as well.
11.8.11
Rain
On my way back from class today I stopped to get a sandwich. While I waiting in line I noticed a few small drops of rain, something not unusual to see here. I asked for my sandwich to be bagged in plastic and then headed back to my dorm. Within seconds, not even minutes, the sky opened up and began pouring while I rode back on my bike. I've biked in rain before, so I wasn't particularly worried about a crash, but I'm both unused to so many other bikers going in a multitude of directions around me, and unfamiliar with how cobble stone and brick (the materials other than asphalt that almost all streets here are comprised of) behave when wet. In the end I made it back safely by biking very carefully across the variety of surfaces on my ride, but not without reprisals. My extra time spent riding safely while rain whipped my face and made it difficult to see left me soaked through my jeans to my boxers. It rains pretty hard here.
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