I think some of you weren't aware that I used a separate blog to document my time in Maastricht.
Therefore, I've decided to repost some of the highlights here at the Green Stick.
The first installment will be my post from Friday, July 14, 2006 when my company dispatched me to represent them at the launch of "Amsterdam: Topcity. "
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Today I’m blogging from an internet café in Amsterdam. It’s around 1pm. I’m in town for the launch of an initiative called “Amsterdam: Topcity.”
I arrived at Central Station about 9 last night, but didn't get to my hotel till 10:30. What happened? Well, (I think) I took a wrong turn somewhere on KNSM Island. I got to see some parts of Amsterdam that I've never seen before, and that I hope I will never see again. I finally ran into some friendly locals who gave me directions.
I stayed at Lloyds Hotel which double bills itself as both a hotel and a 'cultural embassy.' I am guessing they feel they are entitled to the latter label because of their modern architecture. On the outside their building looks like an old orphanage, but the inside is completely gutted with any distinctive architecture replaced by straight lines and white paint.
There are 4 tiers of rooms available to guests. Tier 1 has a shared bathroom. Sorry, no go. This may be terribly American of me, but I do not share bathrooms in public accommodations. So I went for tier 2, called “the surprise room” because it will be unusual. The website gives as examples that the “surprise” might be that you get a nice view of the river or perhaps an unusual shower. My room was in what they call the “souterrain” - a euphemism for “prison-like cellar.” Perhaps this was where the bad orphans were sent when they misbehaved.
My first impulse was to think that the “surprise” was that I am paying a lot of money (well, my company is paying a lot of money) for a tiny cell with bars in front of one minuscule window that looks out on a parking lot. But I will be charitable and just assume that I got the unusual shower. I wish I had gotten the nice view of the river, though.
So between getting settled in and having some dinner, I wasn't actually in bed with the lights out till midnight. And then, of course, I couldn't sleep. It was almost a release when the alarm sounded at 7. In what felt like one continuous stumbling motion, I pulled on my dark suit, hopped on the metro, and entered the Amsterdam city government building where the event was being held.
The event in question was the launch of “Amsterdam: Topcity” - a new initiative to...I'm not really sure what. The official giving the presentation kept repeating that Amsterdam needs to make more “top 5” lists. He never specified which types of lists, though. I can think of any number of top 5 lists that already feature Amsterdam.
It was one of those launches presented by a really high adrenaline official who does lots of fist pumping and is surrounded by large screens with moving images and PowerPoint presentations. Videos of these types of events often resurface on CNN when the official in question has been indicted on charges of corruption.
Job Cohen, the mayor of Amsterdam, was there too. He gave a nice little speech at the end. It wasn’t more than 5 minutes long. An elected official who can give a short speech...that I respect!
There was food available before and after the event. I, of course, made a beeline for the coffee. I am pleased to inform you that the city of Amsterdam brews some good java. The presentations started, and soon I began to crave a second cup. I was sitting at a table towards the front. So I started glancing around trying to map out a strategy to get to the back unnoticed. Then, all of sudden, at my side there appeared a waiter brandishing a pot of coffee. He smilingly refilled my cup.
At that moment, I didn't need to hear the presentations: Amsterdam was already my “Topcity.” There were a few more presentations and then that was that. I headed back to my hotel, checked out, and I am now at an internet cafe.
This afternoon I plan to visit the Rembrandt house. Ah, la dolce vita.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
It runs in the family
Erik Elliott, er, I mean Brattberg is now a published author!
check out his piece in the Washington Times...
http://www.washtimes.com/commentary/20061118-093912-7500r.htm
check out his piece in the Washington Times...
http://www.washtimes.com/commentary/20061118-093912-7500r.htm
Monday, November 06, 2006
Democracy in the Netherlands
Considering that I have a degree in the stuff, it’s appalling how little I care about politics in real life.
There are 2 elections in my life right now. You all know about the one coming up in the US tomorrow, I’m trying to ignore it as much as I can. (In a state with neck and neck senate and gubernatorial races, that’s hard, believe me) There will also, however, be an election in the Netherlands later this month.
I take Holland a little more seriously than the People's Republic of Maryland. So I spent about 3 minutes on 'stemwijzer'-an interactive Dutch website which helps you decide which party to vote for. First, the site gives 30 statements dealing with current issues and you can click 'agree’ ‘disagree’ or ‘don’t know.’
E.g. 'Euthanasia should be banned.' I clicked 'agree'
Of course immigration and Islam issues are center stage in Holland. I am a bit of a political schizophrenic here.
one statement: 'No new mosques should be built.' I clicked “agree”
But then of course there's...
'No one should be allowed to hold both a Dutch passport and a passport from another country.' - I clicked 'disagree'
I realize banning dual citizenship is a good way to encourage the muslim population to assimilate…but if they want to take MY second passport away from me, they will have to pry it from my cold dead hands!!!!!!
Ok, anyway…
another statement: 'The prime minister should be directly elected by the people'- I clicked 'disagree.'
I am not a disciple of Harvey Mansfield. I prefer a weak executive, thank you. Let the party make him, so they can also take him down if need be.
The site then gave me the opportunity to indicate which statements are most important to me. I chose 'Euthenasia should be banned.'
Finally, the site allowed me to eliminate from consideration those parties for which I absolutely will not vote. I eliminated party X whose leader had once been rude to me when I interviewed him for my Dutch radio news internship.
I also eliminated any parties with an anti-monarchy platform. Not that abolishing the monarchy is politically feasible, it’s the principle of the thing.
The site then processed the results and...voila! I'm split between 2 parties: the traditional Christian one that bars women members (that’s my anti-Euthanasia stance talking) and the 'Party for Freedom' which bases its ideas on the philosophy of Francis Fukuyama and Tocqueville. I like this party's tough stance on radical Islam. But their leader has weird hair. (A very important consideration!) Here's the evidence....
So I guess I'll be sitting on the fence for now. advice? suggestions? I'm listening...
There are 2 elections in my life right now. You all know about the one coming up in the US tomorrow, I’m trying to ignore it as much as I can. (In a state with neck and neck senate and gubernatorial races, that’s hard, believe me) There will also, however, be an election in the Netherlands later this month.
I take Holland a little more seriously than the People's Republic of Maryland. So I spent about 3 minutes on 'stemwijzer'-an interactive Dutch website which helps you decide which party to vote for. First, the site gives 30 statements dealing with current issues and you can click 'agree’ ‘disagree’ or ‘don’t know.’
E.g. 'Euthanasia should be banned.' I clicked 'agree'
Of course immigration and Islam issues are center stage in Holland. I am a bit of a political schizophrenic here.
one statement: 'No new mosques should be built.' I clicked “agree”
But then of course there's...
'No one should be allowed to hold both a Dutch passport and a passport from another country.' - I clicked 'disagree'
I realize banning dual citizenship is a good way to encourage the muslim population to assimilate…but if they want to take MY second passport away from me, they will have to pry it from my cold dead hands!!!!!!
Ok, anyway…
another statement: 'The prime minister should be directly elected by the people'- I clicked 'disagree.'
I am not a disciple of Harvey Mansfield. I prefer a weak executive, thank you. Let the party make him, so they can also take him down if need be.
The site then gave me the opportunity to indicate which statements are most important to me. I chose 'Euthenasia should be banned.'
Finally, the site allowed me to eliminate from consideration those parties for which I absolutely will not vote. I eliminated party X whose leader had once been rude to me when I interviewed him for my Dutch radio news internship.
I also eliminated any parties with an anti-monarchy platform. Not that abolishing the monarchy is politically feasible, it’s the principle of the thing.
The site then processed the results and...voila! I'm split between 2 parties: the traditional Christian one that bars women members (that’s my anti-Euthanasia stance talking) and the 'Party for Freedom' which bases its ideas on the philosophy of Francis Fukuyama and Tocqueville. I like this party's tough stance on radical Islam. But their leader has weird hair. (A very important consideration!) Here's the evidence....
So I guess I'll be sitting on the fence for now. advice? suggestions? I'm listening...
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Crossing Cultures
Last Wednesday I met up with my dad and his Bolivian colleagues for lunch in lovely Georgetown. The Bolivians didn't speak English and their translator was away that afternoon. Thanks to my 2 years of high school Spanish, the role of 'translator' fell to me instead.
It went surprisingly well. I was amazed at all the different ways the 5 Spanish words I know could be rearranged to form different sentences.
We discussed the upcoming elections, Ivo Morales and the cocaine trade.
Lunch ended with the Bolivians inviting me to visit them in La Paz. They were so friendly that I am now rethinking my stance on illegal immigration.
They gave me a box of coca tea as an olive branch of peace. I tried it yesterday to see if it would give me energy. (It tastes just like chamomile, btw). I got some energy, but I don't think I will be giving up Red Bull anytime soon.
It went surprisingly well. I was amazed at all the different ways the 5 Spanish words I know could be rearranged to form different sentences.
We discussed the upcoming elections, Ivo Morales and the cocaine trade.
Lunch ended with the Bolivians inviting me to visit them in La Paz. They were so friendly that I am now rethinking my stance on illegal immigration.
They gave me a box of coca tea as an olive branch of peace. I tried it yesterday to see if it would give me energy. (It tastes just like chamomile, btw). I got some energy, but I don't think I will be giving up Red Bull anytime soon.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
I heart the U S of A
Hello everyone,
It's good to be home. I think my favorite part of being back in the U.S. is that you get free plastic bags in the grocery store. In the Netherlands you have to pay for them. As a freedom loving American, I absolutely refuse to pay for something that I am entitled to get for free.
People in Holland usually take bags from home with them to the store, but of course I could never remember to do that.
This led to absurd situations of me jamming huge heads of lettuce into tiny purses etc.
Oh the joy of being back in the USA where you even get a free plastic bag for your roll of lifesavers. I love my country!
It's good to be home. I think my favorite part of being back in the U.S. is that you get free plastic bags in the grocery store. In the Netherlands you have to pay for them. As a freedom loving American, I absolutely refuse to pay for something that I am entitled to get for free.
People in Holland usually take bags from home with them to the store, but of course I could never remember to do that.
This led to absurd situations of me jamming huge heads of lettuce into tiny purses etc.
Oh the joy of being back in the USA where you even get a free plastic bag for your roll of lifesavers. I love my country!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
I have met the enemy and they are mine
This evening the French suffered another major defeat. Yes, the cheese eating surrender monkeys surrendered again...this time: to me!!!!
I kicked frog and I took names.
As I have explained before (though it's so unbelievable and hard to grasp that it is fine if you still do not get it) about once a month the European Parliament moves to Strasbourg for a week-long "plenary session." This is when they do all their voting on legislation.
The offices are basically the same. The people are the same. The work is the same. You just have to commute 5 hours to get there.
With several thousand people mobbing the city for short stays, you can imagine that plenary sessions are brisk business for the Hotels of Strasbourg. The demand for hotel rooms is so high that boats will be anchored in the river as "boatels" just for that week.
My office, like most, has a fixed booking for Strasbourg week at a respectable hotel. To loose a fixed booking is commonly regarded as a disaster.
So today my colleague informed me that whilst I was in the UK our hotel-for no conceivable reason-decided to cancel our fixed booking.
Like a good, polite, stiff upper lipped Brit he had taken this on the chin.
What the hotel had not reckoned with, however, was the presence of a freedom loving American in the office.
I picked up the phone resolved that as long as there was breath left in my body, I would win back that booking!!!
I will spare you the gorey details, suffice it to say: I was victorious.
My time here is drawing to a close, but I have no fear for the security of our booking. No indeed, the French defeat was so resounding that the very name of my office will strike terror into their hearts for years to come!
I kicked frog and I took names.
As I have explained before (though it's so unbelievable and hard to grasp that it is fine if you still do not get it) about once a month the European Parliament moves to Strasbourg for a week-long "plenary session." This is when they do all their voting on legislation.
The offices are basically the same. The people are the same. The work is the same. You just have to commute 5 hours to get there.
With several thousand people mobbing the city for short stays, you can imagine that plenary sessions are brisk business for the Hotels of Strasbourg. The demand for hotel rooms is so high that boats will be anchored in the river as "boatels" just for that week.
My office, like most, has a fixed booking for Strasbourg week at a respectable hotel. To loose a fixed booking is commonly regarded as a disaster.
So today my colleague informed me that whilst I was in the UK our hotel-for no conceivable reason-decided to cancel our fixed booking.
Like a good, polite, stiff upper lipped Brit he had taken this on the chin.
What the hotel had not reckoned with, however, was the presence of a freedom loving American in the office.
I picked up the phone resolved that as long as there was breath left in my body, I would win back that booking!!!
I will spare you the gorey details, suffice it to say: I was victorious.
My time here is drawing to a close, but I have no fear for the security of our booking. No indeed, the French defeat was so resounding that the very name of my office will strike terror into their hearts for years to come!
Friday, May 05, 2006
Survivor: The London Edition
Hey! Well I just got back from London. I have officially been on the road for 27 days! 27 days!!!!
This has been one of the most intense periods of my life. Several years worth of new experiences.
Basically, I did 2 weeks of campaigning in Northampton as a favor to my boss and then 1 week of campaigning in London as a favor to a friend. I guess you could say campaigning is my hobby- yeah, weird hobby. I did it several times when I was at Patrick Henry College-though that was usually for pay.
Yesterday was election day and a very appropriate climax to this journey. I drank a total of 3 redbulls over the course of the looooong day and could have stood to drink 3 more.
The night before the election I was having so much fun hanging out with the other campaign workers at the local pub ("the Fox and Hounds") that I did not get to bed till very late. grrrrr... we got up at 5:30 for a "dawn raid." Next we were assigned to work the polls between 8 and 10. Then we went home for a nap time, but I couldnt really sleep. At 12:30 it was time to hit the War Room (or "Committee Room" as those civilized Britons call it. )
BTW, I was staying at the Battersea Park home of a candidate with an uncontested seat. He and his girlfriend were great. They have immaculate manners.
At the War Room they had a list of our supporters. Volunteers like me would be given some addresses and sent out to knock on their doors and asked them "What time today do you plan on voting ?" You can't ask them if they have voted already because then they are likely to lie and say they have already gone.
If they have voted already, we check them off and they get deleted from the list, otherwise we go back to them later and knock on their door again.
The Comittee/War Room was awful. They didn't allow any coffee or places to sit in there because they want people to work rather than chat which I guess is efficient but also very depressing. (and might well lead to suicides if election days came around too often.)
Then we would go back and hand in your list at the War Room and get a new updated list of addreses and go knock on those doors. We basically kept doing this until the polls closed. I did about 8 rounds.
My last round I worked together with a very nice lady named Lois, a former elected official from the area. I guess she thought I looked very tired so when we got back from our round she invited me to catch a quick breather at her house around the corner. It was a wonderful and very unusual little interlude. I was only at her house for 15 minutes but she managed to ply me with a stiff gin and tonic (just what the doctor ordered!) chips and hummus and coffee.
Her house is gorgeous. She has a very lovely painting that was made of her when she was 8 in a very ornate gold frame. You can still see very clearly it is her. She also had this breathtaking Pre-Raphaelite-ish painting depicting the story of Fra Lippio Lippi a monk who fell in love with the nun he was painting as Mariah. They ran off together and their child was Fra Filippino Lippi.
I got her contact information and have every intention of paying a longer visit at some point in the future.
At 10 in the evening when the voting was done we went to town hall where the ballots were being counted. I got to be what is called a "checker challenger." (you look over the shoulder of the person who is counting the votes to make sure they don't make any mistakes)
The officials did not check who came in to the town hall which I am told was very bad of them. I was techinicaly not allowed to be a "checker challenger" but we devised a scheme whereby I would pose as the girlfriend of one of the candidates. (Under the logic that they can't really keep his girlfiend out.)
Fortunately, it never came to that.
Getting to see the counting of the ballots was very exciting for me. I have never gotten to do that on any of my previous campaigns. I caught a few errors! It was so cool!
We knew the election would be very tight. The area we canvassed has traditionally been very Labour but we hoped that with Tony Blair and his government's current unpopularity we could take it for the Conservatives.
We didn't.We lost. by 16 votes.
16 votes!!!
aaarrrgghh!!! yeah and the worst part (I thought) was that though it was already 1 in the morning and we knew we had lost we STILL had to have a full recount. right then and there.
ug. ok, when the recount was finished some of the others went for a drink. I went home. I am a nerd, I know. but I have been to post-defeat election day parties and...while I have never been to a wake, I assume they are pretty similar.
The next day I woke up at 10 and then slowly made my way to Waterloo Station and caught my Eurostar train back to Brussels.
With a certain wry irony, the cab ride to Waterloo took me through the area I had been canvassing this week. I felt like randomly picking 16 houses and egging them!!! Not really.
I talked with my dad about the election this evening and he pointed out that it is possible that maybe our efforts to get people voting worked a little TOO well and that we inadvertantly got some Labour voters to the polls.
London was easily the most sophisticated campaign I have worked on. It was very interesting to observe. I have also never worked as closely with the actual candidates before. I had several very good conversations about why they ran for office and what their jobs entail.
This has never happened on any campaign I worked on in the US, but over the past 3 weeks in the UK I have increasingly begun to think that I have done this for OTHER people so many times now....I really should try being the candidate myself at some point. It would only be something small like city council. I would never go national. But I have decided that I am going to start slowly working my way towards elected office.
Well, first I need to settle down somewhere and cease my wandering ways. Then I need to find a poltical party I like and get involved etc etc etc.
One thing is sure though: you will all be volunteering on my campaign. There is no getting out of it. But don't worry, I promise there will be coffee in my War Room!
This has been one of the most intense periods of my life. Several years worth of new experiences.
Basically, I did 2 weeks of campaigning in Northampton as a favor to my boss and then 1 week of campaigning in London as a favor to a friend. I guess you could say campaigning is my hobby- yeah, weird hobby. I did it several times when I was at Patrick Henry College-though that was usually for pay.
Yesterday was election day and a very appropriate climax to this journey. I drank a total of 3 redbulls over the course of the looooong day and could have stood to drink 3 more.
The night before the election I was having so much fun hanging out with the other campaign workers at the local pub ("the Fox and Hounds") that I did not get to bed till very late. grrrrr... we got up at 5:30 for a "dawn raid." Next we were assigned to work the polls between 8 and 10. Then we went home for a nap time, but I couldnt really sleep. At 12:30 it was time to hit the War Room (or "Committee Room" as those civilized Britons call it. )
BTW, I was staying at the Battersea Park home of a candidate with an uncontested seat. He and his girlfriend were great. They have immaculate manners.
At the War Room they had a list of our supporters. Volunteers like me would be given some addresses and sent out to knock on their doors and asked them "What time today do you plan on voting ?" You can't ask them if they have voted already because then they are likely to lie and say they have already gone.
If they have voted already, we check them off and they get deleted from the list, otherwise we go back to them later and knock on their door again.
The Comittee/War Room was awful. They didn't allow any coffee or places to sit in there because they want people to work rather than chat which I guess is efficient but also very depressing. (and might well lead to suicides if election days came around too often.)
Then we would go back and hand in your list at the War Room and get a new updated list of addreses and go knock on those doors. We basically kept doing this until the polls closed. I did about 8 rounds.
My last round I worked together with a very nice lady named Lois, a former elected official from the area. I guess she thought I looked very tired so when we got back from our round she invited me to catch a quick breather at her house around the corner. It was a wonderful and very unusual little interlude. I was only at her house for 15 minutes but she managed to ply me with a stiff gin and tonic (just what the doctor ordered!) chips and hummus and coffee.
Her house is gorgeous. She has a very lovely painting that was made of her when she was 8 in a very ornate gold frame. You can still see very clearly it is her. She also had this breathtaking Pre-Raphaelite-ish painting depicting the story of Fra Lippio Lippi a monk who fell in love with the nun he was painting as Mariah. They ran off together and their child was Fra Filippino Lippi.
I got her contact information and have every intention of paying a longer visit at some point in the future.
At 10 in the evening when the voting was done we went to town hall where the ballots were being counted. I got to be what is called a "checker challenger." (you look over the shoulder of the person who is counting the votes to make sure they don't make any mistakes)
The officials did not check who came in to the town hall which I am told was very bad of them. I was techinicaly not allowed to be a "checker challenger" but we devised a scheme whereby I would pose as the girlfriend of one of the candidates. (Under the logic that they can't really keep his girlfiend out.)
Fortunately, it never came to that.
Getting to see the counting of the ballots was very exciting for me. I have never gotten to do that on any of my previous campaigns. I caught a few errors! It was so cool!
We knew the election would be very tight. The area we canvassed has traditionally been very Labour but we hoped that with Tony Blair and his government's current unpopularity we could take it for the Conservatives.
We didn't.We lost. by 16 votes.
16 votes!!!
aaarrrgghh!!! yeah and the worst part (I thought) was that though it was already 1 in the morning and we knew we had lost we STILL had to have a full recount. right then and there.
ug. ok, when the recount was finished some of the others went for a drink. I went home. I am a nerd, I know. but I have been to post-defeat election day parties and...while I have never been to a wake, I assume they are pretty similar.
The next day I woke up at 10 and then slowly made my way to Waterloo Station and caught my Eurostar train back to Brussels.
With a certain wry irony, the cab ride to Waterloo took me through the area I had been canvassing this week. I felt like randomly picking 16 houses and egging them!!! Not really.
I talked with my dad about the election this evening and he pointed out that it is possible that maybe our efforts to get people voting worked a little TOO well and that we inadvertantly got some Labour voters to the polls.
London was easily the most sophisticated campaign I have worked on. It was very interesting to observe. I have also never worked as closely with the actual candidates before. I had several very good conversations about why they ran for office and what their jobs entail.
This has never happened on any campaign I worked on in the US, but over the past 3 weeks in the UK I have increasingly begun to think that I have done this for OTHER people so many times now....I really should try being the candidate myself at some point. It would only be something small like city council. I would never go national. But I have decided that I am going to start slowly working my way towards elected office.
Well, first I need to settle down somewhere and cease my wandering ways. Then I need to find a poltical party I like and get involved etc etc etc.
One thing is sure though: you will all be volunteering on my campaign. There is no getting out of it. But don't worry, I promise there will be coffee in my War Room!
Sunday, April 30, 2006
St. Peter Ad Vincula in The Tower of London
Hello, I am back in London today and I just got back from attending a church service at "the Royal Chapel of st Peter Ad Vincula within Her Majesty's Tower of London" -the little chapel in the Tower of London where Anne Boleyn is buried.
The day got off to an ignominious start with me trying to get to the 9:15 service. The only thing I could find on the internet qua directions was to use the 'westgate' entrance.
I couldn't find that entrance at first and of course the tower of London is very very large
so by the time I had walked around it and found the entrance it was past the service starting time.
I explained to the nice beefeater at the front that I wanted to go to church. He let me go in but when I got to St Peter Ad Vincula, I could not open the door. I think it was locked. So I was sneaking all around the outside of the chapel looking in through the windows trying to find an alternative entrance.
I didn't find an entrance, but I did accidentally stumble into the little chapel where Thomas More is buried. It is sooo reassuring that one is still able to accidentally find such things in London.
I also saw the scaffold site where Anne Boleyn (and katherine howard and jane grey and thomas more)were beheaded. There was no one around as this was still before the tower opened. I was deeply impressed.
I decided the situation was hopeless and I had better go to the second church service at 11.
As I was exiting the tower I saw the nice beefeater again and he asked me why I was leaving so early. I explained that the door was locked, but he said he was quite sure that the door to chapel is not locked during services. It is just a heavy door and I should go back and give it a good tug.
How could I say no?
Unfortunately as I was making my way back I was rudely accosted by a different (mean)
beefeater who me to state my business. he said it was too late for me to go the service as it had already started and I should take myself away as the tower didnt open to 'the public' until 11.
Emboldened by having just seen the beheading place of another woman who was defiant in the face of injustice, I replied that as I was in the tower to attend church, I did not count as 'the public.'
He didnt like that one bit. oh well. I think that only hastened my inevitable expulsion from the premises. I knew I was done for the moment he asked me what I was doing in the tower. So I figured I might as well be expelled with dignity.
So I left and had some tea and a scone at a nearby cafe while I waited and then headed back. the tower was open by this time and the lines were massive. sooooo many people. Westminster Abbey all over again. the entrance fee for the tower is 15 pounds. that is 25 dollars. unbelievable!!! for a family of 4 that is 100 dollars.
Anyway, I got in for free because I explained I was going to church. I made my way to the chapel very very slowly. I got to see traitors gate!!! that was very cool.
then I went to the church and it was just wonderful.I walked in and there was the priest smiling and handing me a hymnbook. and i just immediately felt welcome.
There was a choir (adults, not a boys choir. alas. but they did have nice robes)
They were fantastic!!!!! they were incredible. we used the 1662 book of common prayer and they sang all the elements of the service like the sanctus and agnus dei in wonderful madrigal style(exactly how you think it would have been in Tudor times). I particularly liked the musical setting of the apostles creed. they sang so well it just filled the whole chapel. You just think to yourself,'it doesn't get any better than this.'
For hyms we sang 'Let Jesus Christ be Praised' and 'The Lord's my Sheperd.'
The best part was actually probably the sermon. It was very very good. I was moved by it. It is wonderful to think that substantive sermons are still being preached in these historic chapels.
After the church I started talking to a very nice lady named pamela. she is a member and was helping reaarrange the chairs after the servce. and I helped her with that.
I decided to just decided to go ahead and ask my one burning question ' so where exactly is anne boleyn buried ?'
Up on the platform at the front of the church.
So I sort of snuck over and was eyeing the platform. The priest noticed what I was doing and said that...it would be fine for me to just go up and look.
I did! and there I saw the stone that said 'Queen Anne'!!!!!!!!!!!! I was trembling. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. It was the most amazing moment! I stood right there at her grave. Unbelievable! who would ever have thought that I would actually see it!
They had some coffee afterward so I went along for that and chatted to some of the members of the church. There was one retired couple who had just gotten back from a 3 month cruise around the whole world so they were telling me about that.
They have a church dinner next week and I was invited to come along for that. For a passing second I actually thought of maybe changing my ticket around so that I could be in London for that.
I chatted with one of the beefeaters on the way out. We were standing right next to the tomb of thomas more. It was quite surreal. He has been doing it for 17 years. I asked him if he ever gets tired of putting up with american tourists and he said that talking to people like me is the best part of his job.
So then I took a very leisurely, roundabout way out of the tower. It was by then utterly overrun with tourists. There were long queues to get into each of the individuals towers and buildings on the Tower of London's grounds. So I was not tempted to abuse my free admission by going into any of them.
Just by walking around I could absorb a lot of the atmosphere. you can see very clearly how it has been added onto over the centuries. a turret here. a little building there. all in different architectural styles. it is fascinating.
So well I have seen the tower. in a very unique and wonderful way. It is so reassuring that even in the horrible touristy crowded London of today you can still have experiences like this.
Next time I visit London I know where I will be attending church.
The day got off to an ignominious start with me trying to get to the 9:15 service. The only thing I could find on the internet qua directions was to use the 'westgate' entrance.
I couldn't find that entrance at first and of course the tower of London is very very large
so by the time I had walked around it and found the entrance it was past the service starting time.
I explained to the nice beefeater at the front that I wanted to go to church. He let me go in but when I got to St Peter Ad Vincula, I could not open the door. I think it was locked. So I was sneaking all around the outside of the chapel looking in through the windows trying to find an alternative entrance.
I didn't find an entrance, but I did accidentally stumble into the little chapel where Thomas More is buried. It is sooo reassuring that one is still able to accidentally find such things in London.
I also saw the scaffold site where Anne Boleyn (and katherine howard and jane grey and thomas more)were beheaded. There was no one around as this was still before the tower opened. I was deeply impressed.
I decided the situation was hopeless and I had better go to the second church service at 11.
As I was exiting the tower I saw the nice beefeater again and he asked me why I was leaving so early. I explained that the door was locked, but he said he was quite sure that the door to chapel is not locked during services. It is just a heavy door and I should go back and give it a good tug.
How could I say no?
Unfortunately as I was making my way back I was rudely accosted by a different (mean)
beefeater who me to state my business. he said it was too late for me to go the service as it had already started and I should take myself away as the tower didnt open to 'the public' until 11.
Emboldened by having just seen the beheading place of another woman who was defiant in the face of injustice, I replied that as I was in the tower to attend church, I did not count as 'the public.'
He didnt like that one bit. oh well. I think that only hastened my inevitable expulsion from the premises. I knew I was done for the moment he asked me what I was doing in the tower. So I figured I might as well be expelled with dignity.
So I left and had some tea and a scone at a nearby cafe while I waited and then headed back. the tower was open by this time and the lines were massive. sooooo many people. Westminster Abbey all over again. the entrance fee for the tower is 15 pounds. that is 25 dollars. unbelievable!!! for a family of 4 that is 100 dollars.
Anyway, I got in for free because I explained I was going to church. I made my way to the chapel very very slowly. I got to see traitors gate!!! that was very cool.
then I went to the church and it was just wonderful.I walked in and there was the priest smiling and handing me a hymnbook. and i just immediately felt welcome.
There was a choir (adults, not a boys choir. alas. but they did have nice robes)
They were fantastic!!!!! they were incredible. we used the 1662 book of common prayer and they sang all the elements of the service like the sanctus and agnus dei in wonderful madrigal style(exactly how you think it would have been in Tudor times). I particularly liked the musical setting of the apostles creed. they sang so well it just filled the whole chapel. You just think to yourself,'it doesn't get any better than this.'
For hyms we sang 'Let Jesus Christ be Praised' and 'The Lord's my Sheperd.'
The best part was actually probably the sermon. It was very very good. I was moved by it. It is wonderful to think that substantive sermons are still being preached in these historic chapels.
After the church I started talking to a very nice lady named pamela. she is a member and was helping reaarrange the chairs after the servce. and I helped her with that.
I decided to just decided to go ahead and ask my one burning question ' so where exactly is anne boleyn buried ?'
Up on the platform at the front of the church.
So I sort of snuck over and was eyeing the platform. The priest noticed what I was doing and said that...it would be fine for me to just go up and look.
I did! and there I saw the stone that said 'Queen Anne'!!!!!!!!!!!! I was trembling. I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. It was the most amazing moment! I stood right there at her grave. Unbelievable! who would ever have thought that I would actually see it!
They had some coffee afterward so I went along for that and chatted to some of the members of the church. There was one retired couple who had just gotten back from a 3 month cruise around the whole world so they were telling me about that.
They have a church dinner next week and I was invited to come along for that. For a passing second I actually thought of maybe changing my ticket around so that I could be in London for that.
I chatted with one of the beefeaters on the way out. We were standing right next to the tomb of thomas more. It was quite surreal. He has been doing it for 17 years. I asked him if he ever gets tired of putting up with american tourists and he said that talking to people like me is the best part of his job.
So then I took a very leisurely, roundabout way out of the tower. It was by then utterly overrun with tourists. There were long queues to get into each of the individuals towers and buildings on the Tower of London's grounds. So I was not tempted to abuse my free admission by going into any of them.
Just by walking around I could absorb a lot of the atmosphere. you can see very clearly how it has been added onto over the centuries. a turret here. a little building there. all in different architectural styles. it is fascinating.
So well I have seen the tower. in a very unique and wonderful way. It is so reassuring that even in the horrible touristy crowded London of today you can still have experiences like this.
Next time I visit London I know where I will be attending church.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Northamptontown
Today I am blogging at you from the lovely town of Northampton and not London as intended. The reasons for this turn of events really don't bear repeating.
Earlier today, drinking tea on a sunny terrace overlooking the bustling market on the medieval square I sighed and said to myself "I am so glad I am not in London today."
Northampton is delightful. It has a few wonderful old churches, a medieval guild hall, a quaint local history museum and loads of interesting shops.
I have bought a wonderful set of 5 little plates. They have gold, scalloped rims and then a sort of a yellow section around a little pink rose at the center.
Northampton does not have city status. It is the largest "town" in the UK. The locals badly want to achieve city status as this entails tax benefits. The UK, however, still retains its ancient standards for what legally constitutes a city (it includes stipulations like having a cathedral with a spire of a certain height etc) and Northampton just can't quite cut it.
oh well.
Perhaps someday. Cardiff did not meet the requirements, but was granted city status in 1958 in honor of Charles being invested as Prince of Wales there. Perhaps Northampton will have a similar lucky break.
This area is very historic. The local major highway got its start as a Roman road. Its layout has remained essentially unchanged through the centuries. Those Romans...they really knew what they were doing.
While out campaigning I also saw the manor where apparently Guy Fawkes and his friends hatched their conspiracy to blow up parliament.
The campaign work is good. The people I am working for are not harsh taksmasters. There is lots of downtime.
Yesterday I had a close encounter of the third kind. I got to observe real British "Chavs" in their native habitat. Chavs are apparently sort of the English equivalent of red necks. They wear large gold chains and rings and are partial to gigantic white sneakers and fake Burberry gym clothes.
The Brits have an arsenal of Chav jokes to rival our American "you know you are redneck if..."
(Q:what do you call a Chav in a tastefully decorated home? A: a burglar. Q: How do you identify the bride at a Chav wedding? A: She is the most pregnant one.)
I was dropping off leaflets for a local candidate and a couple of Chavs ( a Chav and a Chavette) were leaving their house just as I was approaching. We started talking and they took the opportunity to air their grievances against the county's social services. Apparently the woman/Chavette has had her two children taken away. She is an ex-con. The father of child #1 was a convicted sex offender. Social services found out she was pregant with #2 when she assaulted the father of that one in the street. She has since been sterilized, but now she and her current partner want to have a child. While they are both unemployed, they are taking out a loan to have the procedure reversed.
It occurred to me that the county's social services are working just fine.
I politely promised, however, to pass their grievances along to the candiate. Chav votes matter too.
In the evenings I have been watching all the specials related to Queen Elizabeth's 80th birthday. That is reallly quite the event here. Everyone is hyperventilating in their praise of her. I sometimes wonder if praising QE2 beyond any proportion that a human being deserves is part of the antimonarchy strategy. Antimonarchists have realized they can't get around her so they set up this impossible, unrealistic standard that no one-and certainly not Charles-could ever attain.
Besides, how could anyone think Elizabeth is all that great when you compare her to Holland's Queen Beatrix?
Well anyway, I think I am going to head back to my hotel now. Stay tuned for next week's exciting installment of Emma's awesome electioneering adventures!
Earlier today, drinking tea on a sunny terrace overlooking the bustling market on the medieval square I sighed and said to myself "I am so glad I am not in London today."
Northampton is delightful. It has a few wonderful old churches, a medieval guild hall, a quaint local history museum and loads of interesting shops.
I have bought a wonderful set of 5 little plates. They have gold, scalloped rims and then a sort of a yellow section around a little pink rose at the center.
Northampton does not have city status. It is the largest "town" in the UK. The locals badly want to achieve city status as this entails tax benefits. The UK, however, still retains its ancient standards for what legally constitutes a city (it includes stipulations like having a cathedral with a spire of a certain height etc) and Northampton just can't quite cut it.
oh well.
Perhaps someday. Cardiff did not meet the requirements, but was granted city status in 1958 in honor of Charles being invested as Prince of Wales there. Perhaps Northampton will have a similar lucky break.
This area is very historic. The local major highway got its start as a Roman road. Its layout has remained essentially unchanged through the centuries. Those Romans...they really knew what they were doing.
While out campaigning I also saw the manor where apparently Guy Fawkes and his friends hatched their conspiracy to blow up parliament.
The campaign work is good. The people I am working for are not harsh taksmasters. There is lots of downtime.
Yesterday I had a close encounter of the third kind. I got to observe real British "Chavs" in their native habitat. Chavs are apparently sort of the English equivalent of red necks. They wear large gold chains and rings and are partial to gigantic white sneakers and fake Burberry gym clothes.
The Brits have an arsenal of Chav jokes to rival our American "you know you are redneck if..."
(Q:what do you call a Chav in a tastefully decorated home? A: a burglar. Q: How do you identify the bride at a Chav wedding? A: She is the most pregnant one.)
I was dropping off leaflets for a local candidate and a couple of Chavs ( a Chav and a Chavette) were leaving their house just as I was approaching. We started talking and they took the opportunity to air their grievances against the county's social services. Apparently the woman/Chavette has had her two children taken away. She is an ex-con. The father of child #1 was a convicted sex offender. Social services found out she was pregant with #2 when she assaulted the father of that one in the street. She has since been sterilized, but now she and her current partner want to have a child. While they are both unemployed, they are taking out a loan to have the procedure reversed.
It occurred to me that the county's social services are working just fine.
I politely promised, however, to pass their grievances along to the candiate. Chav votes matter too.
In the evenings I have been watching all the specials related to Queen Elizabeth's 80th birthday. That is reallly quite the event here. Everyone is hyperventilating in their praise of her. I sometimes wonder if praising QE2 beyond any proportion that a human being deserves is part of the antimonarchy strategy. Antimonarchists have realized they can't get around her so they set up this impossible, unrealistic standard that no one-and certainly not Charles-could ever attain.
Besides, how could anyone think Elizabeth is all that great when you compare her to Holland's Queen Beatrix?
Well anyway, I think I am going to head back to my hotel now. Stay tuned for next week's exciting installment of Emma's awesome electioneering adventures!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Hello,
I figured you would all understand that I have been very busy seeing London and that is why I haven't been blogging.
Right now I am at the Conservative party office in a town called Daventry in Northhamptonshire. I am doing all the same sort of campaign work I did back in Virginia in college(lit drops, phone banking etc) but only with English people!
Daventry is lovely. It is surrounded with lush green hills populated with little white sheep. There are loats of old pubs with names like "The Heart of England" and " The Saracens Head." I went to one yesterday and had the most delicious treacle pudding in custard with tea. mmmmm.
I have been here since Monday night and before that I had a whirlwind 5 days in London...
Let me start by dealing with the Lowpoint of my visit ....Westminster Abbey
I went Monday morning and there was a very loooong queue. I had to wait half an hour. It was insanely crowded.(queue got longer with time. evenlonger when i left the abbey) I couldn't put one foot in front of another without bumping into someone.
After waiting so long to get in I had to go to bathroom. so I left and then reentered the abbey from a different entrance which meant had to go against flow of the crowd down some stairs. I got very very loudly yelled at by one of the tour guides for doing that. She wouldn't let me through. I wanted to start crying.
Later on when she had her back turned I snuck by anyway.
In the chapel where Elizabeth I is buried there was also some guy tour guide constantly yelling at us to keep moving along. I couldn't even stop to look at the grave at the woman I have admired for as long as I can remember.
They were just rushing people through. It was like a cattlecar. And I paid 10 pounds (17 dollars) for this abuse! honestly, if people pay so much to get in you could atleast be polite to them.
I saw poets corner. barely. It is hard to have a private moment with Geoffrey Chaucer's grave or Handel's statue when you are crowded about by annoying Americans wondering loudly where Henry VIIII is buried.
I think he is the only King most Americans have ever heard of. It's all Henry VIII all the time!
I just wanted to use my program to slap some of them upside the head and go "He is buried at St. George's chapel!"but no. First that program was expensive and second that tour guide lady would then have a real excuse to evict me.
Tourist shops cater to this Henry VIII obsession by offering all sorts of tacky products emblazoned with his picture. They are prosituting their heritage.
Well anyway, it was cool to see the coronation chair. I got to see Henry VIIand Elizabeth of York's graves. and of course the place where Cromwell was briefly buried. and Mary Queen of Scots' grave and the portrait and grave of Richard II. I got to see the special coronation chair made for Mary II since she was co-sovereign.
I really can't complain, but your can understand that my visit was a bit of a downer.
I had better luck visiting the Liberty store ( a maker of lovely fabrics that I have admired for years) We had tea with hot crossbuns at their tea shop.
Thursday we saw Picadily circus. Coventry gardens. China town. Leicester Square. Trafalgar Square. Harrods and Fortnam and Masons. We rode all around town on those red double decker buses. We had tea and scones at fortnam and masons.so lovely. the most interesting was watching all the people around me . London is insanely crowded. really jampacked. The crowdedness was a real turnoff. I suppose it is due to the chunnel.
Saturday night I went to St. Pauls. I had reviewed Diana and Charles wedding photos on line the night before to make sure I knew where she walked and such. I saw nelson and wellingtons and John Donne's graves.
Then I met up with my overly energetic friend Sarah. A crazy mad dash through London ensured. We walked/ran all along the Thames saw the Tate Modern. I could stand the nasty Francis Bacon for about 10 minutes, but there is a nice cafe overlooking St. Pauls on the top floor.
We crossed the thames on the millenium bridge and saw the outside of the Globe Theater and also the tower of London. I was overpowered to actually see it. unbelievable! the actual tower. sight of some of the most important moments in history. so many kings and queens have stayed there.
One of Sarah's friend's dads was a beafeater and the family lived in the tower. Apparently it is a very prestigious job. It was too late in the evening to go in to the tower. We will take a boat tour there some other time.
I had a wonderful visit to the National Portrait gallery. I saw Augustus John's Dylan Thomas. so lovely. I am now determined to get a greysweater with black dots like the one DT is wearing in the portrait I a portrait of Byron so lifelike it made me uncomfortable.
I saw numerous portaits of Elizabeth I. amazing to see them in real life- just to be so close.
I saw the only known portrait of Jane Austen.
One of my best days was Sunday, though. I went to church in the morning and then had Easter breakfast with the Polish family I was staying with. It felt a bit hollow in that there was no Bible reading or even a mention of Easter. Oh well. I had been to church that morning which was great. They had nice white and blue china ware. all very Polish.We also observed the Polish tradition of banging your hardboil egg against someone elses. If yours doesnt crack and the other person's does you "win."
Then we went to richmond park-Henry VIII's old hunting grounds. (He is supposed to have been hunting there as Anne Boleyn was being beheaded). There are still lots of deer there. They are very tame. We saw several herds of them-one with lots of little bambis including 1 albino one. The park is so expansive. with lots of hills. you can really sort of imagine how it was when Henry VIII rode there.
The hunting ground was turned into a park by Charles I.
We went to a special part of it called the isabelle garden. Apparently the word isabelle stems from its yellow topsoil. There were camelias and rhododendrons.
We also stopped at 'the kings mound' a hill which offered an excellent view of London and the surrounding area. it used to be a druid burial mound. On one side you could see all of richmond park and in the very very very distance you could actually see Windsor Castle. You really could see it!
On the other side was a telescope which you could use to look at the other side of london in the distance and see St. Pauls.
we drove back through richmond and saw Mick Jagger's house. a posh pad as you can imagine. He has a great view of the Thames.
So that was easter. Monday was the unfortunate Westminster Abbey incident. and here I am in here in beautiful Daventry this Wednesday working hard to win the hearts and minds of voters for the Tories.
It is all so beautiful. Robert Browning summed it up perfectly when he wrote...
Oh, to be in England
Now that April’s there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
I figured you would all understand that I have been very busy seeing London and that is why I haven't been blogging.
Right now I am at the Conservative party office in a town called Daventry in Northhamptonshire. I am doing all the same sort of campaign work I did back in Virginia in college(lit drops, phone banking etc) but only with English people!
Daventry is lovely. It is surrounded with lush green hills populated with little white sheep. There are loats of old pubs with names like "The Heart of England" and " The Saracens Head." I went to one yesterday and had the most delicious treacle pudding in custard with tea. mmmmm.
I have been here since Monday night and before that I had a whirlwind 5 days in London...
Let me start by dealing with the Lowpoint of my visit ....Westminster Abbey
I went Monday morning and there was a very loooong queue. I had to wait half an hour. It was insanely crowded.(queue got longer with time. evenlonger when i left the abbey) I couldn't put one foot in front of another without bumping into someone.
After waiting so long to get in I had to go to bathroom. so I left and then reentered the abbey from a different entrance which meant had to go against flow of the crowd down some stairs. I got very very loudly yelled at by one of the tour guides for doing that. She wouldn't let me through. I wanted to start crying.
Later on when she had her back turned I snuck by anyway.
In the chapel where Elizabeth I is buried there was also some guy tour guide constantly yelling at us to keep moving along. I couldn't even stop to look at the grave at the woman I have admired for as long as I can remember.
They were just rushing people through. It was like a cattlecar. And I paid 10 pounds (17 dollars) for this abuse! honestly, if people pay so much to get in you could atleast be polite to them.
I saw poets corner. barely. It is hard to have a private moment with Geoffrey Chaucer's grave or Handel's statue when you are crowded about by annoying Americans wondering loudly where Henry VIIII is buried.
I think he is the only King most Americans have ever heard of. It's all Henry VIII all the time!
I just wanted to use my program to slap some of them upside the head and go "He is buried at St. George's chapel!"but no. First that program was expensive and second that tour guide lady would then have a real excuse to evict me.
Tourist shops cater to this Henry VIII obsession by offering all sorts of tacky products emblazoned with his picture. They are prosituting their heritage.
Well anyway, it was cool to see the coronation chair. I got to see Henry VIIand Elizabeth of York's graves. and of course the place where Cromwell was briefly buried. and Mary Queen of Scots' grave and the portrait and grave of Richard II. I got to see the special coronation chair made for Mary II since she was co-sovereign.
I really can't complain, but your can understand that my visit was a bit of a downer.
I had better luck visiting the Liberty store ( a maker of lovely fabrics that I have admired for years) We had tea with hot crossbuns at their tea shop.
Thursday we saw Picadily circus. Coventry gardens. China town. Leicester Square. Trafalgar Square. Harrods and Fortnam and Masons. We rode all around town on those red double decker buses. We had tea and scones at fortnam and masons.so lovely. the most interesting was watching all the people around me . London is insanely crowded. really jampacked. The crowdedness was a real turnoff. I suppose it is due to the chunnel.
Saturday night I went to St. Pauls. I had reviewed Diana and Charles wedding photos on line the night before to make sure I knew where she walked and such. I saw nelson and wellingtons and John Donne's graves.
Then I met up with my overly energetic friend Sarah. A crazy mad dash through London ensured. We walked/ran all along the Thames saw the Tate Modern. I could stand the nasty Francis Bacon for about 10 minutes, but there is a nice cafe overlooking St. Pauls on the top floor.
We crossed the thames on the millenium bridge and saw the outside of the Globe Theater and also the tower of London. I was overpowered to actually see it. unbelievable! the actual tower. sight of some of the most important moments in history. so many kings and queens have stayed there.
One of Sarah's friend's dads was a beafeater and the family lived in the tower. Apparently it is a very prestigious job. It was too late in the evening to go in to the tower. We will take a boat tour there some other time.
I had a wonderful visit to the National Portrait gallery. I saw Augustus John's Dylan Thomas. so lovely. I am now determined to get a greysweater with black dots like the one DT is wearing in the portrait I a portrait of Byron so lifelike it made me uncomfortable.
I saw numerous portaits of Elizabeth I. amazing to see them in real life- just to be so close.
I saw the only known portrait of Jane Austen.
One of my best days was Sunday, though. I went to church in the morning and then had Easter breakfast with the Polish family I was staying with. It felt a bit hollow in that there was no Bible reading or even a mention of Easter. Oh well. I had been to church that morning which was great. They had nice white and blue china ware. all very Polish.We also observed the Polish tradition of banging your hardboil egg against someone elses. If yours doesnt crack and the other person's does you "win."
Then we went to richmond park-Henry VIII's old hunting grounds. (He is supposed to have been hunting there as Anne Boleyn was being beheaded). There are still lots of deer there. They are very tame. We saw several herds of them-one with lots of little bambis including 1 albino one. The park is so expansive. with lots of hills. you can really sort of imagine how it was when Henry VIII rode there.
The hunting ground was turned into a park by Charles I.
We went to a special part of it called the isabelle garden. Apparently the word isabelle stems from its yellow topsoil. There were camelias and rhododendrons.
We also stopped at 'the kings mound' a hill which offered an excellent view of London and the surrounding area. it used to be a druid burial mound. On one side you could see all of richmond park and in the very very very distance you could actually see Windsor Castle. You really could see it!
On the other side was a telescope which you could use to look at the other side of london in the distance and see St. Pauls.
we drove back through richmond and saw Mick Jagger's house. a posh pad as you can imagine. He has a great view of the Thames.
So that was easter. Monday was the unfortunate Westminster Abbey incident. and here I am in here in beautiful Daventry this Wednesday working hard to win the hearts and minds of voters for the Tories.
It is all so beautiful. Robert Browning summed it up perfectly when he wrote...
Oh, to be in England
Now that April’s there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
Thursday, April 13, 2006
rule brittania!
Je suis en Angleterre!
oh wait. sorry... I am in the UK!
I just arrived about 2 hours ago and am currently ensconced in my Brussels roommie's London flat (its in the Acton Town district) cudding with her adorable kitty.
It was dark and we got right on the tube from the train( at Waterloo station) so I haven't seen any famous London landmarks yet but tomorrow morning we are going to have scones and tea for breakfast at Picadily circus.
I don't think I will be able to sleep for anticipation.
oh wait. sorry... I am in the UK!
I just arrived about 2 hours ago and am currently ensconced in my Brussels roommie's London flat (its in the Acton Town district) cudding with her adorable kitty.
It was dark and we got right on the tube from the train( at Waterloo station) so I haven't seen any famous London landmarks yet but tomorrow morning we are going to have scones and tea for breakfast at Picadily circus.
I don't think I will be able to sleep for anticipation.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Dude looks like a lady
Hello, it is 2 am and I can’t sleep. I am going to blog while I wait for my tea to steep.
Wednesday night I had a real, old-fashioned slumber party at my friend Sarah’s place. It was just like the ones back in sixth grade. We had ice-cream, nachos, wine (ok, on that point it differed from my 6th grade slumber parties) and talked about makeup and boys. It was soooo much fun.
In a similair vein, Saturday night Sarah and I are going to participate in a scavenger hunt in a forest outside Brussels. How cool is that?
Earlier Wednesday evening we had gone to see the movie Stay with Ewan MacGregor. He played a psychiatrist and wore the too short, pulled-up-to-the-navel pants last seen on my younger brother Nick when he dressed up as a “Nerd” for Halloween.
The movie was just like the pants: weird and embarrassing. Stay away, stay far away.
Then we went back to Sarah’s place and I was once again afflicted with a serious case of apartment-envy. She lives in an adapted former grand home. High ceilings. A huge mirror above a fireplace. A 200 year old mural of Botticelli-ish angels.
Sigh.
Oh well. To paraphrase Mr. Collins from Pride and Prejudice “Resignation to apartmental evils is the duty of us all.”
On the plus side: my apartment is in one of the safest parts of the city. Sarah, poor girl, shares her block with 3 strip joints-and all the lowlifes that skulk about such places- and her street corner with 3 transvestite prostitutes. One of them was picked up by a guy in a car just as Sarah and I were walking by.
Like I keep saying, in
Monday, April 03, 2006
Tourism Synergy
It has been a busy weekend. Friday night I went to a going away dinner for my friend Sarah. Unfortunately, she was a little overwrought. She started crying while we were heading over the restaurant. hmmm...we had a large group going and guess it was tough rounding up everyone. And then some people wanted to switch to a different restaurant at the last minute. She was stressing about that. (this situation nicely demonstrates why I have never felt a calling to event planning)
The restaurant was Greek. I love Greek food. They only gave us 1 menu for 15 people. sooooo weird. (and may I say, sooooo Belgian) I guess their thought that we would all order a bunch of dishes to share. That really wasn't working out. I could see that it was only minutes before Sarah would start crying again so I snuck over to the bar, appropriated a stack of menus and handed them out.
oh well.
I sat with some nice people. Lots of fun discussion. Apparently, there is an open spot for a member from our delegation on the parliament's women's rights committee. I am going to suggest to my boss (a man, btw) that he take it:)
The next I went to Ghent with Sarah. Against all the odds, we managed to have a wonderful day. We got off a lot later than we had intended to because Sarah was running overslept and then we had confusion about our rendezvous point.
We got coffee at the station and Sarah spilled some of hers. I told her that the spilled coffee should represent the problems we had had that morning. We would leave it behind and move on with our day.
Alas, I spoke too soon. As we were sitting on the platform Sarah's mobile rang. It was one of her colleagues from the job she had just finished the day before. He was yelling at her that she hadn't handed in her work mobile. He was unhappy about her plan to have a friend drop off the phone monday morning and wanted it back NOW.
He continued to call (and yell) throughout the day. I told Sarah that she should just turn off her phone. (That-to me at least-seemed the logical thing to do when one is being constantly called by an angry shouting person making demands one can't fulfil) Sarah said she didn't want him to do this because she didn't want him to think she was avoiding his calls (why not let him think that?)
oh well.
The expression "glutton for punishment" comes to mind.
When we got back to Brussels in the evening, Sarah arranged to meet the guy at Place du Luxembourg to give him the phone. She had to go back to her flat to get the charger for the phone. I was dispatched directly to the place to buy the guy a drink in case she was running late. (ok, maybe I'm the glutton for punishment) fortunately, it never came to that.
The twains did meet at the Place du Luxembourg and a peaceful handover of phones took place.
oh well.
The phone situation gave the day a feeling of being "on the lam"- like Thelma and Louise or something.
Ghent is fantastic. We went first to the st. Baafskathedreaal and saw a cool Van Eijk retable (a painting comprised of multiple panels). It is called "The Mystic Adoration of the Lamb". It is probably the most famous historical object in Ghent. The coolest part was when the audio guide said that the retable had been stolen by Nazis and taken to...Neuschwanstein!!! It spent most of WW2 there. It was awesome since I have been to Neuschwanstein. I love tourism synergy.
We took a boat tour on the canal during which we saw the gate that is the only surviving part of the castle where Emperor Charles V was born.
In the evening we were supposed to go to farewell cocktails for another friend who was leaving. It started at 8:30 but between the train ride home and the phone handover, Sarah and I did not get there till 11:30. exhausted.
oh well. I showed up. That showed that I care. I hope.
I asked for a martini, shaken not stirred (perhaps it was myself I was describing) and sort of sank into corner hoping that in this instance actions would speak louder than words. Man, what a long day! Life is crazy sometimes.
oh well.
The restaurant was Greek. I love Greek food. They only gave us 1 menu for 15 people. sooooo weird. (and may I say, sooooo Belgian) I guess their thought that we would all order a bunch of dishes to share. That really wasn't working out. I could see that it was only minutes before Sarah would start crying again so I snuck over to the bar, appropriated a stack of menus and handed them out.
oh well.
I sat with some nice people. Lots of fun discussion. Apparently, there is an open spot for a member from our delegation on the parliament's women's rights committee. I am going to suggest to my boss (a man, btw) that he take it:)
The next I went to Ghent with Sarah. Against all the odds, we managed to have a wonderful day. We got off a lot later than we had intended to because Sarah was running overslept and then we had confusion about our rendezvous point.
We got coffee at the station and Sarah spilled some of hers. I told her that the spilled coffee should represent the problems we had had that morning. We would leave it behind and move on with our day.
Alas, I spoke too soon. As we were sitting on the platform Sarah's mobile rang. It was one of her colleagues from the job she had just finished the day before. He was yelling at her that she hadn't handed in her work mobile. He was unhappy about her plan to have a friend drop off the phone monday morning and wanted it back NOW.
He continued to call (and yell) throughout the day. I told Sarah that she should just turn off her phone. (That-to me at least-seemed the logical thing to do when one is being constantly called by an angry shouting person making demands one can't fulfil) Sarah said she didn't want him to do this because she didn't want him to think she was avoiding his calls (why not let him think that?)
oh well.
The expression "glutton for punishment" comes to mind.
When we got back to Brussels in the evening, Sarah arranged to meet the guy at Place du Luxembourg to give him the phone. She had to go back to her flat to get the charger for the phone. I was dispatched directly to the place to buy the guy a drink in case she was running late. (ok, maybe I'm the glutton for punishment) fortunately, it never came to that.
The twains did meet at the Place du Luxembourg and a peaceful handover of phones took place.
oh well.
The phone situation gave the day a feeling of being "on the lam"- like Thelma and Louise or something.
Ghent is fantastic. We went first to the st. Baafskathedreaal and saw a cool Van Eijk retable (a painting comprised of multiple panels). It is called "The Mystic Adoration of the Lamb". It is probably the most famous historical object in Ghent. The coolest part was when the audio guide said that the retable had been stolen by Nazis and taken to...Neuschwanstein!!! It spent most of WW2 there. It was awesome since I have been to Neuschwanstein. I love tourism synergy.
We took a boat tour on the canal during which we saw the gate that is the only surviving part of the castle where Emperor Charles V was born.
In the evening we were supposed to go to farewell cocktails for another friend who was leaving. It started at 8:30 but between the train ride home and the phone handover, Sarah and I did not get there till 11:30. exhausted.
oh well. I showed up. That showed that I care. I hope.
I asked for a martini, shaken not stirred (perhaps it was myself I was describing) and sort of sank into corner hoping that in this instance actions would speak louder than words. Man, what a long day! Life is crazy sometimes.
oh well.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
blowing in the wind
Oh, gracious I have not bloggged in ages. I can't even keep all the days apart anymore so much has happened. Let me just touch on some general themes...
The weekend was been a good “pause for reflection” for me. (I am such a Eurocrat. Last year the European Commission told all of Europe to go through a “pause for reflection” to figure out what to do about the rejected constitution.) I took time to think about what I am doing here and where I want it to lead.
So…that is a perfect segway for me to quote my new favorite Bible verse. It's from Proverbs. “To the man belong the plans of the heart but from the lord is the reply of the tongue.” How cool is that!
One very noteworthy event is that last Tuesday the launch for a global anti-forced
Prostitution campaign was held at the Parliament. This pop singer named Daniel Bedingfield gave a mini-concert for the launch. I can honestly say I have been a fan of his for years. (Also, his sister Natasha Bedingfield does “Single” one of the best songs ever made).
I used to listen to his album while preparing for white glove inspection at Patrick Henry College. Ahhh the memories. Those days I had an EU flag on my wall. Little did I know that I would one day be listening to Daniel Bedingfield live at the European Parliament.
Tuesday evening I got free tickets to a BBC movie called a "Cock and Bull Story" that was being screened at a local arts theatre. It looked like it would be good. It had both Greg Wise and Jeremy Northam. well, it was AWFUL. I hated it so much! within 15 minutes, I was wondering how I would survive another hour and a half. I was there with some colleagues so I couldn't just leave then and there. Not to be deterred, using my cell phone as a prop, I staged an imaginary crisis and vacated the premises. (The next day I ducked said colleagues to avoid being asked any awkward questions).
I am sooooo glad I left. The taxi costs came to about 10 euros altogether but hey, if time is money I think I made a killing that evening.
Thursday night I had dinner with my roommate. We are both so busy that we coordinated this dinner a week in advance via emails and text messages. It was a nice dinner. I like her very much.
I will be in the UK for Easter for my election rigging, oh sorry, political campaigning and I am going to spend the Sunday at her parents house in London. She says Easter is big deal in her (Polish Catholic) family. They go all out. Alas, no polish national costume.
I will have 3 free weekends in London. (plus 1 week of campaigning in the city and 2 weeks of campaigning in Northamptonshire) The first 2 weekends I will stay with my roommies family. The third I will stay with my friend Sarah whose family also lives in London. Friends in London are SWEET!
Friday I got some fantastic news. I had been majorly majorly stressing about this thing called a visitors group. (25 constituents coming from the UK to visit Strasbourg and I had to make all their arrangements for them). then guess what??? They cancelled! That was easily the best news I have heard all month. I was so happy when I talked to the woman on the phone. I hope she wasn't offended that I was so utterly thrilled that she was NOT coming.
One of the dominant themes of this week has been the 5 foot 1 inch of male ego I am condemned to work with these days! He is my boss’ old assistant from a few years back and is filling in until the new one starts. Let me at least start by saying something a bit nuanced… he is just like any human being with both negatives and positives. (ok, now that I have gotten that out of the way…) he is extremely condescending which I find utterly infuriating. Then I do try (operative word being "tried") to tell myself that it's better to be treated like a child and subjected to at times unnecessary scrutiny than to be left all by myself and mess things up.
I really don't think he means it badly. he just has a condescending manner. it is just that when he starts saying obvious things in a pedantic way it is time to cue that old Moby song, "that's when I reach for my revolver" etc...
(Speaking of revolvers, I threw caution to the wind and made a “pro-gun ownership” statement to my British colleagues. Non-Americans are always floored to hear such views being expressed openly. Try it sometime. The effect is hysterical)
Anyway, back to my colleague, I need to be humble. I think this is a good way for me to reflect on the way I myself interact with others in the workplace. in situations when I am the more knowledgeable one, am I being condescending? etc. so I will try to think of this as a learning experience.
Friday night I had dinner with 4 ladies from my church. It was great. I sometimes hear the expression “state of grace.” And I think that kind of expresses how I felt. It was Friday night, good food, good friends, fun conversation (about something other than the committee on budgetary control’s new report!) we went to a Mexican restaurant (I love Mexican food!) that exists more or less for the American expatriate community. It felt a bit like that bar in Casa Blanca where all the expatriates hang out. There is a delicious feeling of conspiracy.
The menus are in English. The busboys are Mexicans. It's all so familiar!
I went to back to the restaurant again this Tuesday for dinner when 2 of my second cousins (who also happen to be 2 of my favorite people currently living) came to visit me.
I am spending my Saturdays recovering from the stresses of my work week with some good old fashioned retail therapy! I went to H and M and found a great white linen blouse. It's very Out of Africa/Dr. Livingston I presume-ish. I also bought a simple little silver ring. It’s just silver and then it twists at the front. The next week I got a teapot and a cool jar to put coffee in.
I am so happy with my teapot. I think I automatically drink a lot more tea when I have one around and drinking tea makes me so very happy. It is a good stress reliever. I am already on my 5th cup.
so yeah, a coffee bean jar and teapot. I am definitely taking my pet caffeine addiction for a walk. However, hey, it's like I always say...there are worse things I could be addicted to. And considering the stress I have been under, it is a wonder I haven't succumbed to one of those yet.
I have discovered the most amazingly beautiful place in Brussels: Le Sablon. It is basically a square with shops on it. It used to be a sandy field where archers would go practice. They built a chapel to Mary which has gradually evolved into a grand cathedral (currently under renovation so I couldn't go in) it has a statue of Mary that some nun stole from Antwerp in the 1500s she had a vision that Mary told her that she wanted the archers to have the statue. And well, I guess it has stayed there ever since.
It also holds the burial chapel of the Von Thurn und Taxis family where my friend Michaela hopes one day to be laid to rest. (she has her eye on a billionaire TNT princeling). Michaela, I wish you a long and happy life of course, but it would be so very cool if you would die before me. Then I could come and pay my respects to you in that chapel!
There is also a lovely more baroque style church close by (which was not under renovation so I could go in) where Bruegel the elder was married in the 1500s. There is a lovely memorial to him painted by his sons.
there was also a really lovely wood carved statue of st. Margaret of Antioch. dressed in Tudor style garb. at first glance I thought it might be Anne Boleyn. (Of course, that would be impossible in a Catholic church!) It was very lifelike.
I went into a lot of home decor stores. its funny but there are so many Dutch people there. (and I don't mean Flemish, they sound very different) very chic types of Dutch people. yes, Dutch people care a lot about their houses. it's really very noticeable that this is where I have seen most of them.
Monday night I had dinner at my friend Stan's apartment. (In case, you are wondering: I am sure he's gay so it was definitely not a date.) He made a Portugese stew and it was very good. I brought the wine. his apartment is a bit more bohemian than mine so I am jealous. though mine is bigger and lighter and we have a lift. but still....there is nothing like Bohemian.
we watched...my very first episode of desperate housewives on his laptop. It was only one episode, but I have to say I thought it was really cool.
I helped him with his Dutch homework. His book is very un-PC. There is a picture of a man and a woman in an office and the man is labeled "de baas" and the woman is the "de secretaresse." shocking!
Tuesday as I mentioned earlier my 2 Dutch second cousins came to visit. I took the afternoon off work. They drove in but couldn't find Place du Luxembourg (those of you who have had the pleasure of getting directions from me will sympathize with them) so I ended up taking the metro out to where they were. then we had some nice coffee and wonderful cake at a cafe and chatted for ages. They had brought me a lot of drop which I adore and different royalty magazines. I couldn't sleep last night and have already read about half of them.
Then we went to my house and had some tea. I had bought some new teacups for the occasion. I had made biscotti. I had also bought a little plant for on the table-it is like a blueish purple-ish colour plant to match my cups.
It looked very nice if I do say so myself.
Then we went to... the Sablon. yay! And to the Grand Place of course which was amazing as usual. not so full on a weekday either. I know a nice way to get there that involves walking down a hill that has a magnificent of the city. There are nice statues of various members of the royal family along the way.
We didn't go the European parliament. It is a huge hassle getting people signed in for visitor's passes and the only cool thing for them would be to be to meet "my boss" who was out that day. plus...it's really not that interesting of a place. if you have seen the outside, you have seen enough in my opinion. we had some good views of the exterior though. (one of them from my balcony which was cool)
so yeah, they left around 9:30. We agreed that next time it would be me visiting them at their place in Amsterdam. (I can't wait!) so it was quite a long day. rather a very nice one though.
When I got home, I had a very nice chat with my roommate. just chatting about different stuff. lots of laughing. so that was great. I really like her. we are planning a godfather movie night next week and I will make spaghetti etc. we also had lunch together today. our landlord is kind of weird. very uptight. he wants to see her about something relating to "last year." so I have promised I will go along for the meeting and be her "bodyguard."
It is depressing that I have found such a great roommate...and she's married!
so what is on my itinerary...tomorrow I am going to attend a seminar on the EU constitution. (it's an all day event. I will just go and see how much I much I can take before I crack!) This weekend my good friend Sarah is having her goodbye party. it is a "fancy dress party"(as the Brits would say) you are supposed to come dressed up in catholic school uniforms. hmm...well, I think I will just wear my light blue blouse and then whatever I feel for the rest. maybe just jeans. if I could somehow locate a beret that might be cool.
Any suggestions on how I can adapt common wardrobe items to fit the stated theme?
oh man, it is almost 9 and I am still at my office. I am such a nerd. and I have so much more to write. Oh yeah, book throwing is officially back! I read a book that contained concepts I hated so much that overpowered by a wave of disgust I sent it flying through the air.
But more on that exciting story next time. I apologize for all the typos in this post. but right now for the sake of my own sanity, I have to attempt to make it home before 9 pm!
au revoir!
The weekend was been a good “pause for reflection” for me. (I am such a Eurocrat. Last year the European Commission told all of Europe to go through a “pause for reflection” to figure out what to do about the rejected constitution.) I took time to think about what I am doing here and where I want it to lead.
So…that is a perfect segway for me to quote my new favorite Bible verse. It's from Proverbs. “To the man belong the plans of the heart but from the lord is the reply of the tongue.” How cool is that!
One very noteworthy event is that last Tuesday the launch for a global anti-forced
Prostitution campaign was held at the Parliament. This pop singer named Daniel Bedingfield gave a mini-concert for the launch. I can honestly say I have been a fan of his for years. (Also, his sister Natasha Bedingfield does “Single” one of the best songs ever made).
I used to listen to his album while preparing for white glove inspection at Patrick Henry College. Ahhh the memories. Those days I had an EU flag on my wall. Little did I know that I would one day be listening to Daniel Bedingfield live at the European Parliament.
Tuesday evening I got free tickets to a BBC movie called a "Cock and Bull Story" that was being screened at a local arts theatre. It looked like it would be good. It had both Greg Wise and Jeremy Northam. well, it was AWFUL. I hated it so much! within 15 minutes, I was wondering how I would survive another hour and a half. I was there with some colleagues so I couldn't just leave then and there. Not to be deterred, using my cell phone as a prop, I staged an imaginary crisis and vacated the premises. (The next day I ducked said colleagues to avoid being asked any awkward questions).
I am sooooo glad I left. The taxi costs came to about 10 euros altogether but hey, if time is money I think I made a killing that evening.
Thursday night I had dinner with my roommate. We are both so busy that we coordinated this dinner a week in advance via emails and text messages. It was a nice dinner. I like her very much.
I will be in the UK for Easter for my election rigging, oh sorry, political campaigning and I am going to spend the Sunday at her parents house in London. She says Easter is big deal in her (Polish Catholic) family. They go all out. Alas, no polish national costume.
I will have 3 free weekends in London. (plus 1 week of campaigning in the city and 2 weeks of campaigning in Northamptonshire) The first 2 weekends I will stay with my roommies family. The third I will stay with my friend Sarah whose family also lives in London. Friends in London are SWEET!
Friday I got some fantastic news. I had been majorly majorly stressing about this thing called a visitors group. (25 constituents coming from the UK to visit Strasbourg and I had to make all their arrangements for them). then guess what??? They cancelled! That was easily the best news I have heard all month. I was so happy when I talked to the woman on the phone. I hope she wasn't offended that I was so utterly thrilled that she was NOT coming.
One of the dominant themes of this week has been the 5 foot 1 inch of male ego I am condemned to work with these days! He is my boss’ old assistant from a few years back and is filling in until the new one starts. Let me at least start by saying something a bit nuanced… he is just like any human being with both negatives and positives. (ok, now that I have gotten that out of the way…) he is extremely condescending which I find utterly infuriating. Then I do try (operative word being "tried") to tell myself that it's better to be treated like a child and subjected to at times unnecessary scrutiny than to be left all by myself and mess things up.
I really don't think he means it badly. he just has a condescending manner. it is just that when he starts saying obvious things in a pedantic way it is time to cue that old Moby song, "that's when I reach for my revolver" etc...
(Speaking of revolvers, I threw caution to the wind and made a “pro-gun ownership” statement to my British colleagues. Non-Americans are always floored to hear such views being expressed openly. Try it sometime. The effect is hysterical)
Anyway, back to my colleague, I need to be humble. I think this is a good way for me to reflect on the way I myself interact with others in the workplace. in situations when I am the more knowledgeable one, am I being condescending? etc. so I will try to think of this as a learning experience.
Friday night I had dinner with 4 ladies from my church. It was great. I sometimes hear the expression “state of grace.” And I think that kind of expresses how I felt. It was Friday night, good food, good friends, fun conversation (about something other than the committee on budgetary control’s new report!) we went to a Mexican restaurant (I love Mexican food!) that exists more or less for the American expatriate community. It felt a bit like that bar in Casa Blanca where all the expatriates hang out. There is a delicious feeling of conspiracy.
The menus are in English. The busboys are Mexicans. It's all so familiar!
I went to back to the restaurant again this Tuesday for dinner when 2 of my second cousins (who also happen to be 2 of my favorite people currently living) came to visit me.
I am spending my Saturdays recovering from the stresses of my work week with some good old fashioned retail therapy! I went to H and M and found a great white linen blouse. It's very Out of Africa/Dr. Livingston I presume-ish. I also bought a simple little silver ring. It’s just silver and then it twists at the front. The next week I got a teapot and a cool jar to put coffee in.
I am so happy with my teapot. I think I automatically drink a lot more tea when I have one around and drinking tea makes me so very happy. It is a good stress reliever. I am already on my 5th cup.
so yeah, a coffee bean jar and teapot. I am definitely taking my pet caffeine addiction for a walk. However, hey, it's like I always say...there are worse things I could be addicted to. And considering the stress I have been under, it is a wonder I haven't succumbed to one of those yet.
I have discovered the most amazingly beautiful place in Brussels: Le Sablon. It is basically a square with shops on it. It used to be a sandy field where archers would go practice. They built a chapel to Mary which has gradually evolved into a grand cathedral (currently under renovation so I couldn't go in) it has a statue of Mary that some nun stole from Antwerp in the 1500s she had a vision that Mary told her that she wanted the archers to have the statue. And well, I guess it has stayed there ever since.
It also holds the burial chapel of the Von Thurn und Taxis family where my friend Michaela hopes one day to be laid to rest. (she has her eye on a billionaire TNT princeling). Michaela, I wish you a long and happy life of course, but it would be so very cool if you would die before me. Then I could come and pay my respects to you in that chapel!
There is also a lovely more baroque style church close by (which was not under renovation so I could go in) where Bruegel the elder was married in the 1500s. There is a lovely memorial to him painted by his sons.
there was also a really lovely wood carved statue of st. Margaret of Antioch. dressed in Tudor style garb. at first glance I thought it might be Anne Boleyn. (Of course, that would be impossible in a Catholic church!) It was very lifelike.
I went into a lot of home decor stores. its funny but there are so many Dutch people there. (and I don't mean Flemish, they sound very different) very chic types of Dutch people. yes, Dutch people care a lot about their houses. it's really very noticeable that this is where I have seen most of them.
Monday night I had dinner at my friend Stan's apartment. (In case, you are wondering: I am sure he's gay so it was definitely not a date.) He made a Portugese stew and it was very good. I brought the wine. his apartment is a bit more bohemian than mine so I am jealous. though mine is bigger and lighter and we have a lift. but still....there is nothing like Bohemian.
we watched...my very first episode of desperate housewives on his laptop. It was only one episode, but I have to say I thought it was really cool.
I helped him with his Dutch homework. His book is very un-PC. There is a picture of a man and a woman in an office and the man is labeled "de baas" and the woman is the "de secretaresse." shocking!
Tuesday as I mentioned earlier my 2 Dutch second cousins came to visit. I took the afternoon off work. They drove in but couldn't find Place du Luxembourg (those of you who have had the pleasure of getting directions from me will sympathize with them) so I ended up taking the metro out to where they were. then we had some nice coffee and wonderful cake at a cafe and chatted for ages. They had brought me a lot of drop which I adore and different royalty magazines. I couldn't sleep last night and have already read about half of them.
Then we went to my house and had some tea. I had bought some new teacups for the occasion. I had made biscotti. I had also bought a little plant for on the table-it is like a blueish purple-ish colour plant to match my cups.
It looked very nice if I do say so myself.
Then we went to... the Sablon. yay! And to the Grand Place of course which was amazing as usual. not so full on a weekday either. I know a nice way to get there that involves walking down a hill that has a magnificent of the city. There are nice statues of various members of the royal family along the way.
We didn't go the European parliament. It is a huge hassle getting people signed in for visitor's passes and the only cool thing for them would be to be to meet "my boss" who was out that day. plus...it's really not that interesting of a place. if you have seen the outside, you have seen enough in my opinion. we had some good views of the exterior though. (one of them from my balcony which was cool)
so yeah, they left around 9:30. We agreed that next time it would be me visiting them at their place in Amsterdam. (I can't wait!) so it was quite a long day. rather a very nice one though.
When I got home, I had a very nice chat with my roommate. just chatting about different stuff. lots of laughing. so that was great. I really like her. we are planning a godfather movie night next week and I will make spaghetti etc. we also had lunch together today. our landlord is kind of weird. very uptight. he wants to see her about something relating to "last year." so I have promised I will go along for the meeting and be her "bodyguard."
It is depressing that I have found such a great roommate...and she's married!
so what is on my itinerary...tomorrow I am going to attend a seminar on the EU constitution. (it's an all day event. I will just go and see how much I much I can take before I crack!) This weekend my good friend Sarah is having her goodbye party. it is a "fancy dress party"(as the Brits would say) you are supposed to come dressed up in catholic school uniforms. hmm...well, I think I will just wear my light blue blouse and then whatever I feel for the rest. maybe just jeans. if I could somehow locate a beret that might be cool.
Any suggestions on how I can adapt common wardrobe items to fit the stated theme?
oh man, it is almost 9 and I am still at my office. I am such a nerd. and I have so much more to write. Oh yeah, book throwing is officially back! I read a book that contained concepts I hated so much that overpowered by a wave of disgust I sent it flying through the air.
But more on that exciting story next time. I apologize for all the typos in this post. but right now for the sake of my own sanity, I have to attempt to make it home before 9 pm!
au revoir!
Saturday, March 25, 2006
a few more images of Strasbourg
Freude, schöner GötterfunkenTochter aus Elysium....
The Tour de France actually starts right here. They have an electronic clock that counts down the days. As you can see, the day I was in town there were only 107 days to go...
Zijn Hand Zal U Bewaren
I was reading a Dutch newspaper yesterday and it had a story that the 1933 bridge in the Dutch town of
De Moeder De Vrouw
Ik ging naar Bommel om de brug te zien.
Ik zag de nieuwe brug. Twee overzijden
die elkaar vroeger schenen te vermijden,
worden weer buren. Een minuut of tien
dat ik daar lag, in 't gras, mijn thee gedronken,
mijn hoofd vol van het landschap wijd en zijd -
laat mij daar midden uit de oneindigheid
een stem vernemen dat mijn oren klonken.
Het was een vrouw. Het schip dat zij bevoer
kwam langzaam stroomaf door de brug gevaren.
Zij was alleen aan dek, zij stond bij 't roer,
en wat zij zong hoorde ik dat psalmen waren.
O, dacht ik, o, dat daar mijn moeder voer.
Prijs God, zong zij, Zijn hand zal u bewaren.
A couple years ago I tried my hand at translating poetry. My resounding failure quite soured on the whole concept. But, I promise there will be all-English blogging for my American readership tomorrow….
Saturday, March 18, 2006
There and back again: a Eurocrat's tale
Ok I had my first taste of what it is like to have a binational work place... And I love it! Moi j’adore
Monday night my fellow dedicated Eurocrats and I went straight to the parliament to work without checking in to our hotels first. I have an absolute horror (j’ai horreur) of finding the place I will be staying in an unfamiliar city so rather than go out to dinner with colleagues I opted to go find my hotel first, as it would get rather late otherwise. I didn’t relish the thought of wandering the streets of
I was trying to find the tram stop (which is actually outrageously far from the parliament. At least a 20 minute walk. Very bad transportation planning.) I asked one of the security guards at the parliament for directions and he happened to be getting off duty right then and…walked me all the way to the tram stop. He also carried my extremely heavy bag for me! Wow.
I can imagine exactly how it must have felt to be a maiden rescued in the African jungle by French Legionnaires.
So then I took the tram and got to my hotel which was great too. After putting up with awful
And then if things couldn’t get better, my room had…a television (yeah, pathetic thing to get excited about I know, but it’s been tough living without one in my apartment). They carried BBC World and I got to watch John Bolton being taken to the cleaners about
I went to bed and the next day Tuesday was very busy. Lots of meetings. Lots of coffee. Interesting to watch lobbyists at work. Some are very smooth. They are just chatting like any of do with our friends but at the same time they are managing to make political points. Other lobbyists are much more blunt in their technique.
In the afternoon my MEP gave a press conference on his "written declaration on racism in football" that is a bit of a mouthful and at one point I accidentally said "racism against football" to someone.
I was given the all-important job of bringing the soccer ball down to the photo op after the press conference. I’ve found out it really annoys Brits when you say "soccer" instead of "football' I am going to tuck that bit of knowledge away for a day when it might come in useful;)
In the evening I went first to a parliament reception featuring Bulgarian culture. Then later I went to a really cool local restaurant with about 15 other parliament staff. I had tarte flambé-a local dish. It was cool to have a local delicacy and all but that was about its only charm.
The company was fantastic, though. The interpersonal dynamics are very interesting. Another staffer and I gave a rousing rendition of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.”
There was lots of
One guy remarked that the types of English persons who move to
Of course Nancy Mitford moved to
I didn’t get to bed till late and then next day Wednesday there were more meetings. I was absolutely persecuted by some German lobbyists who needed someone to meet them at the door to sign them in since they didn’t have full parliament accreditation. I was called 3 times by their office hyperventilating that I had to “guarantee” that someone would be there to meet them. That sort of ticked me off. Honestly, it’s a fallen world what kind of guarantees can I give? I said I’ll be there so I’ll be there.
I wanted to quote the scene from “The Godfather” when Sollozzo tells Michael “What guarantees can I give? I’m the hunted one!”
I was hanging out in my friend Sarah’s (the one I went to Brugge with) office for awhile. Her boss deals with lots of foreign affairs issues. The Ambassador from
I was choking with laughter in the corner. I could barely hold it in.
Oh yeah, speaking of Israelis…President Abbas was supposed to come address the parliament Tuesday. But then at the last minute Israeli troops stormed some jail and Abbas cancelled to go deal with the crisis. You can’t imagine my delight when I realized that this would open up an hour in Chris’ day-thus neatly solving a scheduling conflict I had been stressing about. So you see, there is a silver lining to every cloud. I was quite grateful to the Israelis for storming that jail right then.
Wednesday night there was a huge birthday dinner for a UK delegation stafferI was exhausted and plagued by a headache but terrified of being branded with the scarlet “A” for asocial by my peers so I went along anyway(yes, Michaela, I know: I’m a sheeple.) We went to a Chinese restaurant. Everyone had duck. I had…fried rice.
Oh well.
I had a lovely chat with one of the Members of the European Parliament who has a wonderfully posh public school boy accent. I could listen to him all day. He explained to me why he believes
After dinner everyone else went out for drinks, but I decided-asocial or not-I had to get to bed.
Look what I found on the square outside the restaurant. (I thought it was so unusual I just had to have a photo)...
Thursday was a short day. In the morning i went down to the members bar with my boss and we drank coffee and different other MEPs and lobbyists floated by our table. It was quite fun to listen to all the different topics discussed.
Mussolini’s granddaughter was visiting the parliament for some reason. She walked by where we were sitting. She is politically active and I'm told she shares grandpa’s political views….She is quite short and wears LOADS of makeup.
After my boss left to go vote at noon, I headed in to the city with an intern from another office. She is British, but studies law in
I think whenever I am traveling I am really just searching for that "Before Sunrise" moment and this was certainly as close as I have ever gotten.
She likes to come sit by the river to chill out. She pointed out a very interesting old tree and we discussed how one could easily imagine Robin Hood sitting up in its branches whistling down to the sheriff of Nottingham who he is about to rob.
We visited the amazing cathedral. As Victor Hugo remarked when he visited Strasbourg, "It is a gigantic and delicate marvel." There are so many nooks and crannies too it. I would love to be free to just sneak around its corridors some afternoon and see what I could find (my philosophy of tourism: “if the door is not locked it's ok for me to go in.”)
And then…guess what I did? Perhaps you have seen on the news that there are big student protests going on in
My logic: in 1968 student protests brought down the government of
We then went on to this fantastic tea shop. All the walls were painted red and there were paintings of ladies in Alsatian costume. The chinaware was lovely. All different but all painted with little flowers. They also had these sort of cool “floral” garlands made of Christmas lights (the brits call them “fairy lights” how cool is that!?) with red or orange tissue papers bunched up around each individual light to look like little roses and then this was intertwined by fake ivy. I thought it was ingenious. I may have to try to make something similar myself.
The tea was wonderful and we had scrumptious berry cake to go with it. We talked about the books we like. So of course that was a fantastic finish to my week.
This girl lives in
Then it was time to hit the road again. I regaled my carmates with tales of Patrick Henry College. They were amused and not a little bit amazed.
The journey home was marred by the fact that I thought I had lost my keys. Fortunately I found them again the next day, but not before I woke up my Dad in the US (thanks to the time difference, it was 5 a.m. there) with my usual protestations of wishing I were dead etc. My longsuffering father is an oldhand at this after the agony and the ecstacy of my 2004 internship with a news program in the Netherlands. I have to say he deals with it very well.
Well, I think I will leave off here. This post has taken me 2 hours and 6 cups of tea to write. I am so relieved that I am not at my parent's house writing this on my Dad's computer as he would start asking me if I was rewriting "War and Peace." (that is actually not such a bad idea...I would change the ending. just kidding!)Well, perhaps we will have time for my thoughts on that book in another post.