1 in 160,000

I watched the first half of the 2010 World Cup Final in the vicinity of 159,999 ( approximately) other people. It rained orange flowers. Pictures to come.

Lions, Tigers and Bears - Oh My!

The things that keep us apart, keep me alive

Dear home,

I miss your bustling,Chinese restaurants where I know exactly what to order and what to not make the mistake of even glancing at, on the menu. I miss giving the exceptionally tall waiter called Raymond a chin check, as I wait in line to get a table, and the msg laced food that usually sails past me as my stomach growls.

I miss your delicious, and insanely cheap Vietnamese restaurants that reminded me of being a kid and eating out with my dad, as a special treat. The shiny grilled pork balls, silky and partially translucent cold rolls with thin green stems of chives that stick out, and the gourmet spread of other fried and grilled delights that I usually share with people that are family by blood or otherwise.

I miss your balmy summer nights in January.

I miss the glossy weekend magazines, bundled with the Saturday edition of the high brow national paper, allowing me to immerse my mind into the topical feature articles of the week, and capping the read off nicely with national real estate porn.

I miss hearing your endearing and lovely accents on the other side of the phone whenever I call a bank, insurance company or doctors office.

I miss your fashion: bright funky prints, flowing dresses, inexpensive and well made accessories and a fabric scope that extends beyond jersey and leather.

I miss your boys with short haircuts.

I miss your 10pm clear skies with hundreds of stars, that with a squint of the eyes, turn into thousands of stars, the further out of the city limits I drive.

I miss your wide roads that take me through familiar inner suburbs, winding hills and stomach churning dips and pristine natural landscapes.

I miss your takeaway gelati that comes box wrapped in bright, lolly coloured paper, making evening sweet treats feel like a celebration, not just a superfluous indulgence. And brunch - a whole meal that doesn't exist where I am.

I'm coming back at some stage. But not yet. I'm not done yet. I don't know why. I'm just not.

Dutch domination

Nederlands 3

Uruguay 2

They are in...!!!!

Pretty amazing stuff to be experiencing here. Honestly, I never thought they were going to be able to do it. What do I know about soccer... I was going to say "nothing", but I know more than I know about cricket. But I didn't think the dutch had a chance really. I'm thinking Brazil, Argentina, Italy, Germany - Yes, Yes, Yes. Netherlands? Meh.

I cycled home from a soccer party (Who am I?!) held at a monstrous dutch student household that a kiwi friend, Christina, invited me to. (These jongens weren't fooling around. Their backyard had couches, tarps and a projector beaming the game on a white piece of fabric. Heineken flowed as freely as cursing, and eventually, man hugs.)

As I made my way home, right hand steering the bike, bandaged hand flailing about, (notably, I was taking a major chance with the one handed cycling. I won't get into the part where I narrowly missed an ill fated 2 car, 3 bike pile up on my way to the party) the noise of trumpets and cheers was deafening. Orange clad blonde giants spilled out onto the streets, chanting dutch songs about victory, championship and just blatant non sensical noises of jubilation. Cue random strangers clutching each other, misty eyed. Spot conga lines gyrating past suddenly grounded trams, motionless due to being enveloped by throngs of people. As I cycled past bars and weaved across streets, people were trying to high five me and grab my bandaged hand. I had to smile nervously and pedal faster, gritting my teeth;

"Thanks for reaching out to me in this moment of solidarity but if you touch my hand I am going to have to get off my bike and smack you in the face with that trumpet."

Ja, sorry hoor, ik ben heel blij voor jouw, maar ik wil niet dat je nu me aanraken!

Tot Zondag - Wie zal de Wereld Kup winnen? Nederlands of Spanje of Duitsland?

I pull off "Incognito" like Lady Gaga does "Subtle"

The definition of cultural patience

Waiting quietly while your moroccan - dutch beautician finishes a conversation with her friend through the open doorway of her therapy room - midway through your leg wax - while you are pantless.

No, i wasn't feeling awkward. Not at all.

Hup Holland Hup

Chaos in the streets as Netherlands beats Brazil 2: 1, in the bid for World Cup Glory.

Pictures to come.

Festy one handed gimp

Hot Soup on left hand @ work = scalding 2nd degree and 3rd degree burns.



Ow.

Sometimes I get really fed up with living in a foreign country where things like this throw me into a spin. Realising that I live somewhere where I am unfamiliar with processes and policies on lifestyle infrastructure (insurance, hospitals, rights, laws etc) make me completely vulnerable, and I hate feeling vulnerable because it makes me feel pathetic.