tongue tied

on a sunny day: marieke, allie, and i


In an effort to practice this delightful, complex, frustrating new language I'm learning, I've been seeking out any way to jump off the scary cliff of communication. Monday nights I attend a near by art class. I'm one of about 12 students. They're all real live blond blue eyed dutch kids. It's been a great way to practice! I'm learning a whole new dictionary of vocabulary, concerning the body, art, paint, colors, backgrounds and foregrounds, etc! Who knows what I'll use that for in the future!

I've also been able to hang out with new friends who are sweet and understanding and willing to be patient and converse in dutch over lunch. Communication is so exhilarating but it almost always requires a cat nap afterwards. It wipes me out. I've also learned that I have to feel comfortable and enjoy the person I'm talking to, otherwise it's a train wreck and I can barely ask for a cup of tea. For example, last Sunday I tried to talk to a girl at church and just stumbled over my words, digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole. Feeling like an idiot I switched weakly to english.

However, on the way home, I rode with a dear family in our small group. The 40 minute car ride home was dominated by dutch (with an english word slipped in here or there). We discussed everything from the situation in Israel, to their vacation plans, art, small group, and on and on. I was so encouraged but also aware that in addition to a positive environment, it's also mostly Jesus!

Last Friday I went to a lovely foundation about 5 minutes from my house. Every Friday they are open from 11-3 as a space where anyone can come for lunch, coffee, a hot shower, clean clothes, even a pedicure! I went along with an old family friend, thinking it would be a great place to speak dutch! .... and man, was it ever! We arrived at 10 and for the next 6 hours my brain and mouth were racing to keep up! Between serving coffee, making sandwiches, and picking up dirty dishes I was able to talk to delightful people with facinating stories who were either homeless, jobless, or just retired, lonely, and in need of a place to spend the day. There were about 200 guests, many who spoke Russian, Arabic, Spanish, French and about 20 volunteers. I especially enjoyed the hilarious grandpa aged men in the kitchen who made the delicious soup and spare ribs. They were always telling jokes and in general having a lovely time (I only caught maybe a 1/3 of the jokes!) It was a good day. Best dutch class ever! I will definately be back.

Plaça d’Angels
Barcelona, Spain


As the light leaks low
Long elegant buildings release their humans.
Embraced by the sidewalks they learn to walk.
Tiptoeing.

Left of the plaça sits the MACBA.
Guests peruse its galleries,
Sadly I hope.
As they miss the human exhibit just outside.
I turn away and eat the beauty,
Inhaling the drug.

Skate boards skim by.
Back and forth.
Jump.
Fall.
Up to try again.

Mullets shake hands.
Dread locks drink beer.
Ukulele dabbles
Labrador sleeps.
Lovers walk.
Purple hoody shows off.
Pre-teens attempt to copy.
Smoking girl dances.
Mothers talk.
Black leggings stalk by.
Father aged men peddle cold Estrella beer.

The audience drinks deep.
The breeze pulls.
Boys sail by,
Married to the slick beautiful concrete.

An hour later, hearing my mother’s voice
On warm summer nights
Calling me in from the street.
My eyes close in honor

I wake,
As the police pull up,
To ruin the gift.


photo taken by allie klein

saturday morning along the prinsengracht

Last week I had a scone and good cup of tea at Bakers Winkel in the Center, near Dam Square with Nienke. Had a lovely 80% dutch conversation before exiting the cafe together. Just as I was unlocking my bike (the lock was stuck and it was taking a while) a crowd of men started running my way, quickly we were surrounded by a mass of people... one side of which was wearing mostly black and the other in more red colors with policemen inbetween.

I started banging my lock hard, frantic to get it unlocked. No luck. So finally I picked up my bike and hustled with it around the corner. Nienke was unlocked and ready to go. At that point the crown rushed around the corner to us and I felt like I was in 28 Days Later for a minute (a terrifying zombie movie in which the people spend have the movie running away in fear), I finally got the lock open and joined Nienke as we pedaled off. The last I saw as I cycled away, was a black police van screaching up and a SWAT like team pouring out of the side dooors with sticks and shields in hand, bystanders rushing to the scene and people yelling IJAX. What in the world was going on?

The responce I get from people is: Hooligans. Soccer fanatics, IJAX (Amsterdam) vs. Feyenoord (Rotterdam), maybe? ... but I didn't see it reported anywhere. It feels kind of like it never happened but I kind of love that it did. Hooligans. That should be a title of something.

The Hooligan Story.

crispy clean windows

I grew up in a house that was always a little messy, lived in, informal, and hospitable... and because of those things it was an easy place to be, relax, and invite others in to.

Cold yet sunny today, I was told by a friend "you're being so dutch" as I stood on my balcony and stretched to clean the windows lining my kitchen. It feels so good to have things ordered and clean sometimes. You can often see little ladies leaning out on sunny days to wipe the rain smears away of the glass. My friend Julia will sometimes straighten the her house and then sit in her living room and soak in the "order." And I know exactly what she means. A good book and a cup of tea in a pretty glass and one of my new honey cookies is perfect company to the white chair by the big clean window.

Maybe it's that sometimes with life being so delightfully full of life.. of talking, children, laughter, biking, tasks, good conversations, streets sounds, tram riding, grammatically incorrect dutch, going back to school at 27, being stretched, thinking, trying 100's of new things, conversations home, and making food to survive that sometimes it's wonderful to putz around the kitchen and just clean and not think about anything too important, only basking in the glow of living a life of purpose, being daily dependent and forced often to give up my crispy clean windows and step in to the unexpected next.

More stories coming in my update this month friends.