Monday, October 02, 2006


Fruity colors
Originally uploaded by Arne Kuilman.
Yes, I know it is not English. It is this language they speak here and it means...uhm, the word does not really exist in English...I the act of becoming a citizen. Once again a funky proof of the link between language and culture. I mean in which other language you have so many distinctions in this field of life. Just take the word allochtoon which sort of means a person who has at least one of his/her parents or himself/herself with a non-Dutch bloodline. Yep. That's a distinction one needs daily.

I don't know how I got there. This was supposed to be a joyful memorabilia of experiences this weekend. I have made once again big leaps in getting settled in Amsterdam.

I made friends with the owner of the nearby second-hand furniture shop who delivered my table and chairs last Saturday. He knows my name and I know his. I loved the moment when he declared his love to these 60s things and promised to give me a call when they get more. I felt like I had just passed an initiation ritual of an exclusive club.

That together with a dinner with lovely people during a thunderstom at my friend's apartment, getting to know my local Turkish shopkeeper, doing business with the guy who runs the bakery on the other side of the bridge and speaking Dutch with the nice woman who is going to fix my jeans - yes - Amsterdam is just a village. And I am loving it. Or I am just turning 30.

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