a walk in the park

That is a major understatement! My beautiful housemate and dear friend Patricia and I spent our Saturday afternoon spent walking through the sculpture gardens of the Kröller-Müller Museum was no ordinary walk through a park...

The Kröller-Müller Museum is famous for its large sculpture garden annex park forest, with its more than 75 acres one of the largest in Europe, with a fine collection of modern and contemporary sculptures. The garden also reflects Helene Kröller-Müller's conception of a symbiosis between art, architecture and nature.(Yet again, thank you Wikipedia!)

The Kröller-Müller Museum is in the middle of the National Park de Hoge Veluwe, the largest nature reserve in the Netherlands. Anyone living in Holland has no excuse not to visit this beautiful area! It was so magical riding the free witte fietsen through the forest. Steam was rising from the dew and leaf covered grounds, as the sun poured through the coloring trees. "It feels like we're in Narnia!" I exclaimed in delight as we would stop on the side of the bike trail to ooh and aah at the view!...

As we walked through the sculpture gardens we were inspired to form our own sculptures...

...As well as imitate the ones around us!!!

This "Floating Sculpture" was one of my favorites.

This Van Gogh piece used to be one of my favorites when I was first exposed to the world of fine art. It's always nice seeing a painting in its true form. I love looking at the paint strokes and the places where the paint is thicker to give the piece more of a life-like 3-D feel. Rather than the 2-D poster printed form our eyes are used to observing.


It was a beautiful day. I am in agreement with Helene Kröller-Müller's concept of combining art with nature and architecture. It is so inspiring and refreshing!

reading is sexy.

Yes, that's right. Reading is sexy. This is the new motto for my local public library. Since when did it become so cool to be hanging out at a library? Is it our culture's high value of the intellect? The value of knowing? In our age of information overload, where all knowledge can be accessed by the stroking of the keys (and of course, the geniuses who invented google)...

Anyway, my point is that I went to the library today to get away from the house and have a 'quieter' environment to work in...I love the environment of our new library...it's so modern looking (kind of like being in a huge Macbook), but I think the best part is that it has some of the best views of the city. Seven stories high and lots of big windows allow for magical viewings of incoming weather and a city all lit up at night. It's only a little over one year old, but it's already being used to the maximum. The library was so full today, I could barely find one computer to work at on all 7 floors! Every seat was taken, and if it wasn't taken, the computer was out of order. Not only that, every desk space seemed to be in use...I don't think i've seen it quite this full before. Perhaps the library has become a place to see and be seen...

But the strangest of my experiences today was an interaction with a random man who sat across from me as I was eating my lunch... Without any presumption of being an interruption, he started asking me what I was reading, and why people would want to read anything like that..."is it just to keep ourselves distracted from the suffering of our world?" He proceeded to talk for half-an-hour about the insecurities of our world today and how all the banks have all the power now, while people around the world are slaves to the system and the powers that be... and here we are sitting in a "shiny plastic library"... to give ourselves the feeling that everything is okay with the world.

It was so bizarre listening to him talk. I felt like I was having one of my weird dreams... A part of me wanted to just ignore him and shrug him off as being crazy...and then another part of me really wanted to listen and hear him out, and really, I could understand why he would feels the way that he does. We are living in such an insecure time. We can't put our hope in the world around us. And it is true that we have so many distractions as Westerners, to make us feel safe and cozy, as if all is well... while so much of the world is left poor, hungry, and suffering.

As the conversation continued, I became aware of the fact that this man is probably homeless. From outward appearance, I wouldn't have guessed... until I saw that He had a small tent, packed away in a bag that he was carrying around with him... and as I tried to break away from the conversation by telling him that I needed to go soon, he was quick to take his cue to ask if I would be willing to spare a couple euro for something more to eat. It's always hard to know how to respond to this...

I'm still not sure that I've fully processed this interaction. I guess more than anything, it woke me up to the fact that I too often surround myself with distractions and put myself in the 'shiny plastic library' environment so that I feel safe and happy and "look at me! I'm sexy and cool cuz I read too!"... when there is a world of people who need to be fed... and who need me to give of my time and love. The question is, am I willing to open myself up more to that hard reality?

from above

my rooftop perspective.

october showers

Growing up in Colorado, where the air is dry and rain is rare, I used to love rainy days. I would purposefully choose to go outside in the rain so I could splash around in the puddles... and of course, while singing "Singing in the Rain!" I remember taking my pink bicycle out, purely for the joy of riding in the rain and getting myself all wet and chilled, so that I would have to take a warm bath to recover...

... Sometimes I wonder if God would look down on me in those moments and laugh, knowing what was coming for me in the future: living in Holland where rainfall abounds. Rainfall and rides in the rain that chill to the bone. I try to remind myself of those moments when I used to find such sheer delight in getting wet, raindrops falling softly on my cheeks and nose and lips. Although it's become something ordinary, an everyday occurrence (or maybe it's more accurately an every-other-day sort of thing), there can still be beauty in those moments that have now become the subject of much complaining. Really, rain is quite a beautiful thing. It's a watering of the earth. It brings nourishment. It brings life: making all things green. I will try to remind myself of this again and again, especially as the fall turns into winter and the days become shorter and darker and colder... rain does not help in this mix!

In other news this week, (as according to Patricia and myself, blogs are like our very own personal New York Times update for family and friends to see all the latest happenings!...) I had my first attempt at making a berry pie with a homemade butter crust: complete with a latticed top, in honor of Eva's birthday! I owe my pie baking skills to my Grandpa Triggs who was a cook in the army while being stationed in Germany. His specialty was baking pies! (Although I've never been formerly trained by him, I'm assuming I've benefitted purely by osmosis and eating the product of his work!) Fortunately for this time, there were no mishaps of pie falling to the ground, or catching it between my knees on the way down : )

dutch word of the day

(titled: lichtpunt)

I thought it might be fun if I randomly posted about Dutch words that I'm learning. My non-Dutch speaking readers might find it interesting to learn a foreign word they can use to sound really smart... and my Dutch readers will probably find it amusing to see what I find interesting about their language. All in all, it's a win-win situation! Or maybe I'm just being a nerd? Yes, I admit that even a simple word can spark my imagination! So, with that being said... the Dutch word of the day is:

Voorlichten

(to inform)

However, the reason why I really like this word is because I literally translate it more as "to bring light before" something. Voor is before or for and licht means light...I imagine a lamp lighting a path, letting the traveller know which way to turn next...I find it much more beautiful than saying "inform". Language is fascinating to me! The origin of words... who started using it first?!

the formerly non-existent comes into existence.

I cannot even begin to describe the things that I saw and experienced today. The sights, smells, stories...everything came as quite a surprise. I never imagined that my coming to Holland would include days like this one. (Maybe this is a bit of a dramatic beginning...but this is really how I feel right now!)

First of all, this morning during my Dutch class, I was learning Dutch words that I didn't even know the translation for in English! I never imagined myself to get to a level of studying a language where I wouldn't even realize that the English equivalent existed. Has anyone ever heard of the word or used the word EXTRADITION before?! I had people in my class answering my teacher for me when she asked "Wat is het Engelse woord voor uitlevering?" I am the the only one in my class who is supposed to know the answer to those questions. Everyone turns their heads in my direction and expects me to be the talking English dictionary...It's such a weird feeling.

But it was after class, when the true adventure began...I went with four of my fellow classmates to celebrate the 50+ birthday of a Turkmen. Ok, I will be very surprised (and very, very impressed!) if anyone reading this blog has actually heard of the country Turkmenistan. Upon arriving at his house, we almost immediately started asking questions about his country. All of us were clueless. And get this, we all came from different sides of the globe: One grew up in Venice, Italy, another was born in Argentina (with a Yugoslavian mother and Austrian father, no less...), Algeria, Indonesia, and of course, little me from the U.S. of A.

Ok, first some random facts about Turkmenistan. It was a part of the former Soviet Union, and so it has really only been recognized as a country since 1991. It is small. About 5 million people. Only in the last 2 years did the dictator, deemed "President for Life" pass away!!! Human rights are not regarded as we know them to be...According to the 2007 Reporters Without Borders World Press Freedom Index, Turkmenistan had the third-worst restrictions on the freedom of the press in the world. All of this is entirely news to me...and I now am celebrating the birthday of a man whose life was born into a land only recently non-existent in my world. (A world that is expanding, yet ever so small...) I'm so humbled to imagine what it would be like to grow up in a country like this. I imagine it to be like in the film The Story of the Weeping Camel: deserts, camels, nomadic...a beautiful mix between Russian, Middle-Eastern, and Asian cultures.



I think what was so extraordinary about this day was coming together with 5 people from different parts of the world, truly enjoying one another's company and being able to communicate in one language. However raw and incorrect our Dutch came out, we could still understand one another.We all began the afternoon saying we would only stay for 1 hour. Everyone ended up staying for 5+ hours! The Rice Pilaf, Turkish coffee, Russian candies... we were suckered into staying! And we celebrated the life of a man that has faced so much hardship. I wish I could tell his story in detail and post more pictures from this day, but I don't want anyone to be extradited (notice my use of new vocabulary!) The short of it is that he is seeking political asylum here in Amsterdam. His life as he once knew it: his culture, customs, family, friends, education, work... everything is gone. He has to start over completely. At 50! Can you imagine?!

This is something I would love to expand upon one day. The lives of the many foreigners I come across whose former lives are lost through immigration. Their customs, language, family, their way of living and being... ultimately, it is a loss of identity. It saddens me and my heart goes out to these people. In part, because I can also relate to them.

All I can say to end this post... What a crazy day.

breaking boundaries while breaking the fast

I had my second opportunity to serve during an Iftar meal, in a neighborhood community center, about a ten minute bike from where I live. Iftar (Arabic: إفطار), refers to the evening meal for breaking the daily fast during the Islamic month of Ramadan. Iftar during Ramadan is often done as a community, with Muslims gathering to break their fast together. Iftar is done right after Maghrib (sunset) time. Traditionally, a date is the first thing to be consumed during Iftar when the fast is broken. (Thank you, Wikipedia!)

There is something about doing this that I absolutely love... working alongside a group of people that I would never normally rub shoulders with, serving them their dinner, a dinner with food I would never make for myself (only because I don't traditionally combine these foods or know the recipes, but it is super yummy!!). It is such a gift to be able to share in the customs and cultures of others from different parts of the world. This particular evening was a meal shared by people who represented the neighborhood well: both Muslim and Christian, young and old, Dutch and Moroccan and Surinamese...and who knows how many cultures were represented at these tables?! It was beautiful to see everyone coming together to share in a meal. There is something so sweet about sitting together to eat food with one another: delighting in the tastes simultaneously, sharing conversation, sharing hearts.





In between setting out plates, cutting lemons, and carry bowls of soup to the tables, I had the opportunity to pull out my camera, which, as a pleasant surprise, was warmly welcomed by those around me. Everyone was more than happy to oblige to my asking if I could take their picture. It seemed as though they were honored that I would want to capture them on my camera...they rarely smiled for the posing of pictures themselves, but their faces broke into bright signs of delight when I would exclaim "echt mooi!" to assure them that I thought their photo turned out beautifully.




Everyone made sure to inform me that the woman in this picture below was to be honored as the oldest in the room: 95-years-old! People were praising her in her accomplishment of living!



These are a few of the people that I worked with to prepare the meal and the tables. The women came from Suriname: they have known each other and lived together in the same neighborhood for years. The man to the far right was the head chef, originally from Morocco. He was very serious about making sure that everyone had enough food to eat. They were all a delight to work with!




Even the neighborhood police came by (to make an arrest!)...this picture almost gives the feeling of The Andy Griffith Show from the 1950's!:


This community center had a feeling of "home"...people stayed to the very end as we were clearing the tables and finishing up the last of the cleaning. This man in particular was determined to stick around until his crossword puzzle was complete.


I hope to continue to find ways of expanding my boundaries. Entering into worlds unlike my own...
It is a beautiful experience.