From the sound to the stillness

It's been a crazy 1.5 days. Friday night I went to a surprise party for my colleague Bruce. I had a lot of fun. It was interesting to note that Bruce has two distinct sets of friends. The first group is his college friends and colleagues who are all clean-cut, career types like me. Then there's his 'drinking buddies' who were dishevelled-looking and congregated on the balcony smoking pot. One really stoned English bloke introduced himself to me saying, "I heard your American accent." I smiled and said "I'll take that as a compliment."

Saturday I trekked out to Rotterdam to hang out with my friend Moniek. We lunched at a nice little cafe near the Coolsingel, chatting and laughing about careers, friends, church, bosses, etc. all the things that occupy the mind of a twentysomething young professional. Then we did some shopping, with the obligatory stop at the huge second hand bookstore, and enjoyed some hot chocolate at a Starbucks-esque cafe before parting company. I confess I am rather forming an attachment to Rotterdam. I really like it as a city. It has a certain vibe.

I then took a 2-hour train ride to Kampen where my brother Nick was celebrating his 24th birthday. I ended up staying for about 3 hours (if you know me, you know that that's pretty unusual.) I got to catch up with my family, meet some of Nick's friends and play a few rounds of a very typically dutch game called Sjoelbak.

On the train ride home, I was musing that this had been one of the most enjoyable days of my new Dutch life. Unfortunately, the day was not over yet. Due to an earlier delay, I missed my last connection (from the main station in my city, to the smaller one near my house.) So I had to take a cab. The driver was talking on his cellphone in some Arabic language the whole time (hand held, which is illegal in this country.) I was pretty sure he hadn't even listened when I told him where I wanted to go, and I got increasingly concerned as we drove into a part of town I'd never in been before. And yes, at a certain point, when the amount on the meter was already very high, he hung up his phone and said, "So what was the name of your street again?" If we hadn't been in an unfamiliar neighborhood, I would have just gotten out of the cab and walked home at that point.

Tja...what can I say? I am still glad I spent the evening at my brother's party. As the Beatles once sang, "I don't care too much for money, cuz money can't buy me love."

What money can buy, however, is aspirin. And I needed a large quantity of that this morning when I woke up with a splitting headache. I stayed in bed and watched an online sermon by Mark Driscoll, a pastor from Seattle who Nick recommended. I was very touched by his sermon and maybe I'll blog about it another time. Right now, I think I may step out and catch an evening service somewhere. I need to stock up on grace before the work week starts again.