Sunday in the Park with Ramses

This was my weekend for the park, I guess. Yesterday I spent all of my afternoon with the storks, today it was music time. One of Holland's musical greats was due to appear this afternoon with a new band called Alderliefste. The band sing mainly in French, which is what they did this afternoon too. The singer is called Gerard Alderliefste.



Towards the end of the performance the man almost everybody had been waiting for came up on stage: Ramses Shaffy. One of the country's best known singers since the sixties, responsible for writing and performing some of the songs everybody in this country can sing along to. He is no longer in the best of health, but he still performs once in a while, and you can still see and feel the charisma of the man. He's lived a more than full life, a man of great emotion, and beautiful to hear and see. He just sang a few songs, the song "Laat Me", which he recorded with Alderliefste, then he improvised a song for the day on the piano, and he sang "Zing, vecht, huil, bid, lach, werk en bewonder", which everybody sang along with. He ended with the "Shaffy Cantate", few words but great music. I am really happy to have seen him appear today, and I'm glad he seemed to enjoy it all so much. Most of the crowd were there to hear him, no one else really.










The afternoon had started nice and sunny, warm enough to walk down to the open air theatre in a summer skirt and a t-shirt, but just as Ramses started his final song the first drops of rain started to fall. Just after the concert finished the heavens opened and people were trying to find shelter as quickly as they could. Within about five minutes I was wet through, not just a little water seeping through, and a gradual process, and, no I didn't bring the rain gear.... I didn't really mind though, the concert was worth it, and I was happy walking all the way back home wet and cold, enjoying the moments.

I put the rest of my pictures up at: Picasa

And here someone was nice enough to take pictures of the downpour:Pixites at Flickr

Out of the Nest

The storks in my backyard have grown up and they're starting to discover the world. Their world for now is just the small enclosed meadow their nest is in. Mother keeps a watchful eye on her brood.



The youngsters seem to enjoy their untidy environment though,



because there you can find lots of unusual and interesting items:



And being on the ground means you finally get to flex your wings without almost knocking one of your siblings out of the nest.



And you can show off your beautiful, almost red legs and bill to all of the waiting photographers:



And you can stare back at all those people who have been staring at you over the past few weeks:



Just three little Storks, getting ready to leave:

Sometimes

it's the little things that can make you smile...

Last night I stood outside my front door watching the bats fly above the little square outside my house. And this morning, in the park, I walked across the grass in my sandals and got my feet wet. It felt really nice.

Jamboree 1995

Hearing on the news about Scouting and the Jamboree takes me back to this time 1995, when I was taking part in the Dutch World Jamboree. I had ended up there almost by accident because I had left Scouting several years before. I'd been asked to work at the site as one of a team of translators and interpreters. In the end it was quite a big team, and there wasn't always enough work to keep everyone occupied, so there was plenty of time to look round the site and take part in the event. This was lucky, in another way, because our team leader got ill during the event, and his replacement was a little busy elsewhere, but we were able to organise ourselves.

I remember it was a hot summer, and we had a sunny fortnight. As far as I can remember we had no rain at all, it was just very warm every day. Quite good, really, when you have 30,000 people camping together in a polder. The atmosphere was very good, and I remember leaving all my stuff in my tent every day and feeling quite safe. People seemed pretty happy, and I think a lot of young people made friends with people from all over the place. I remember talking to Scouts from Pakistan, a place that fascinated and still fascinates me.



The site was huge, a small city, and getting from one place to another could take quite a while. I hadn't been able to bring my bike, so I did a lot of walking, from our sub-camp to the office, to the press centre and to the various other sub-camps. There was a big restaurant for all the volunteers working on the site, and the food was generally good, though I didn't have much of an appetite for much of the Jamboree. That might have been the temperature.

Working, or being available for work, meant that you couldn't take part in all the events, but I did attend both the opening and the closing ceremonies. They had a slight Olympic feel to them, though they were a bit smaller. Well-organised and directed, lots of colour and a great sense of joy. Arriving a little late for the opening ceremony, we ended up just outside the arena waiting for the Queen and her husband to pass, and we got to see the Swedish king. It was all very colourful. I also attended a sailing parade, but for some reason I seem to remember little about it, except that a lot of things seemed to go wrong there. That can be reassuring sometimes.



For me it was fun being a translator and interpreter. We worked in a team, and translated the newsletter for staff working on site, instructions for various activities, and anything else we could get our hands on. This was the only time I ever worked as a proper interpreter, sitting in a little cubicle, wearing headphones, translating what was being said at the daily press conference. It was hard work, and took a lot of concentration, but I did enjoy it. I also enjoyed recording the message for visitors most days for the information number. I would sit in a little office, a little peace and quiet among the mayhem outside. For some reason I remember there being socks on the desk there, one of those ridiculous details.

In some ways it all seems very long ago, because, for example, I remember there hardly being any mobile phones. Some of the staff members carried their phones around, and I was surprised at finding myself in a toilet cubicle and hearing someone talking on the phone in the next cubicle. Nowadays that seems to be quite normal. And I saw on some of the pictures of the internet tent at this year's Jamboree, and that was a little less normal twelve years ago too. Apparently they had an internet tent then as well, but that I cannot remember. I remember queues at the pay phones that were there.

On a Boat

Today I was out on a boat. Birdwatching. Another interesting experience.

I have to get up at 3.30, and have a little trouble doing that. I haven't had much sleep much anyway, this is the mosquito season here. Then an hour in the car, getting to the boat. It is still dark, and this time of year it is strange to be up when it is dark. Usually it's light long before I get up in the morning, and it is only just dark when I go to bed.

Then on board a fishing vessel, the kind of ship that always takes fisherman to sea for a day out. Not my usual environment. It takes four hours to get to the area where you are most likely to see groups of seabirds. I've been taking my pills against seasickness, so I am suitably sleepy again, and when I go down to the little café I manage to go back to sleep in there and sleep throughout the trip. When I wake up we are almost at our destination so I get to enjoy the distribution of the chum, the fish waste that is distributed in the water to attract the birds. And that does attract the birds. It isn't a great treat for those of us who are not feeling too well at sea. I'm okay, but a younger boy looks pale and far from happy.



The company on these trips is usually interesting. The first thing I usually notice is how few women there are. Today we are a group of over 40 people, but there are only three women. And then there is the huge number of big lenses, just binoculars won't do anymore. Almost all the birders on board are photographers as well. Today we also have a radio reporter on board, who interviews people on board. He gets most of his work done in the morning, but has to do it all again in the afternoon because of some technical difficulties.

We get to see a lot of birds, mainly Black-backed Gulls. We also see Fulmars, Gannets, Skuas and Guillemots. People point out the various birds to each other, one man is counting. Soon we can probably see on the website what we have seen, or what we are supposed to have seen. I am not so sure I have actually seen everything.



We are lucky today, it is sunny, it is dry and there isn't a lot of wind, very much unlike the weather over the past few weeks. There is some swell, but not much really, and we can all enjoy the sunshine on deck. Faces turn red in the course of the afternoon. For once I actually remember my sunscreen so I think I'm alright for a change. On the way back I manage to fall asleep again, this time on the communal sleeping deck. I'm not the only one with eyes closed this time.

Some people go out to see to watch birds for weeks at a time. Strange people.

Happy Birthday!

Today Scouting celebrates its 100th birthday. There is a Jamboree in Chelmsford at the moment, so I guess that is where the biggest party is. This morning I heard a short interview on the radio about Scouting in general and about the Jamboree. I first joined the Brownies when I was 8 or 9, and loved it. I was a Girl Guide, a Ranger and a Leader by the time I was 15. From the moment I was a Brownie that is what I wanted to be. I ended up being a Leader for over 10 years, and enjoyed that very much. It was fun being involved with the children, watching them develop and seeing what they got out of all the activities. we organised so many different activities, and it was great to see the enthusiasm of the children.

In the interview this morning they talked about what Scouting gave you, and that is not a hard question for me to answer. The main thing I got, and still have, are friends. I was lucky enough to make several international trips, and I made friends on all of those. Not all the frienships have lasted, but some have, and that is something I value. I have friends in Norway, in Greece and in New Zealand, and over the years I've been in touch with girls from South Africa, Israel, Korea, the USA and France. I very much enjoyed the international side of the movement. I visited "Our Chalet" in Switzerland a couple of times, and enjoyed the company as much as the beautiful Swiss scenery.

I did enjoy the activities I took part in because they were so varied. Games, crafts, music, acting, camping, it was all there, and there always was a lot you could organise for yourself. I loved campfires, building them and tending them, and I loved singing. People who don't know anything about the movement can have this idea of a very old-fashioned, disciplined lot, camping in some forest in full uniform, saluting a flag, but that is not what it's about. When I look at the pictures taken at the jamboree over the past few days, and when I see the reports on television I just see a lot of young people being active and having a lot of fun. And I can see a lot of young people being very social, working together and wanting to learn from each other.

I left quite a few years ago now, but I came back for just a little while during the World Jamboree that took place in the Netherlands in 1995. My last major event, but definitely one of the highlights in more ways than one. But that is another story, and I'll get back to that one later....

Almost Gone

The Storks have made the news, they are quickly becoming major celebrities. The three young are flexing their wings and it looks like they will be gone soon. They now seem to have people around continually, keeping an eye on them. Tonight they made both the local and the regional news, both clips are available online:

The Amsterdam news on AT5
Noord Holland News

Cycling in Amsterdam

For reasons of home logistics I start work very early these days. Cycling into work this morning around seven was very nice. Just a little chill in the air, lovely and dry, and hardly anybody around. It's lovely and quiet in the park that early in the morning, just a few people running, I heard a thrush singing and I could see the young storks standing on the nest. I don't think they will be there anymore this time next week. I love the park this time of the morning. And it is good cycling along the canal too, because there is precious little traffic.

Cycling in Amsterdam is not something simple. The rules, written and unwritten, are complex, and I can understand that the innocent tourist isn't aware of all of them. The cycle lanes seem very obvious to us, they are red, and they do have white bicycles painted on them, but sometimes they look a little like pavements, and if you don't have them back home you might think that you are supposed to walk there. You are not. Just as you are not supposed to cycle on the pavement.

Probably not all tourists know that ordinary traffic rules don't necessarily apply to cyclists here. For instance, it is customary for Amsterdam cyclists to ignore red traffic lights and just continue. It is not customary for cyclists to indicate where they are going, where they intend to turn a corner. Cyclists are in many cases allowed to enter a one-way street from the other direction, and even if that is not allowed they will. This may be confusing. I guess the rule is that you take the shortest way. These are just little things, and it does help to know.

I guess the best rule to remember is that cyclists are not expected to stick to the official rules, tourists are. Tourists on bicycles are expected to stick to the the unwritten rules for Amsterdam cyclists. I guess it is simple, really.

Harry

Like a great many other people all over the world I spent much of last week with Harry. I wanted to find out what was going to happen to him, whether he would be able to deal with Whatshisname, and whether he would live to tell the tale, so to speak. I was happy with the ending, it worked out alright, and it all made sense. I'm glad I got to read all of the book before reading the end of the story somewhere else. I'm glad that Harry never was too good to be true, and I'm glad that there are more shades of grey even towards the end. Things are not necessarily what they seem to be. I'll miss him.

Charlotte

Last Sunday I went to an exhibition of the work of Charlotte Salomon. I've seen her self-portrait so often, I knew the name and the face but I never really knew the story. I never realised she wasn't just a painter, and I didn't know the part her art played in her life, and how important it was to her.

She was born in Germany in 1917 as a Jewish girl, and had to flee the country in 1938. She went to her grandparents in France. Her grandmother committed suicide when the war broke out, and then she was told about the suicide of other family members, including her mother. She dealt with this by withdrawing into herself and by creating a series of works of art entitled Life? or Theatre? The series consists of over 800 gouaches. In 1943 she was deported to Auschwitz with her husband, just a few months after their wedding. She was killed on 10 October 1944 while she is four months pregnant. Her husband was killed on January 1 1944.

The art works are unusual and moving, they tell her story and recreate the people that were important in her life. Some look like very sophisticated cartoons, drawn in great detail, others are very simple drawings or pieces of text, and together they tell the story. She was very open and honest in her work, especially considering the time she lived in. The works on show at the museum at the moment are ones that were not included in her own final selection, she painted many more gouaches than she included in her own story. Standing there looking at the pictures it is hard to imagine that they were painted in the course of just a few years by a woman in her early twenties.

Most of the gouaches are available online at the Jewish Historical Museums website: Salomon at the museum

Summer in the City

I always cycle into work, and that means cycling in the city centre. That poses different challenges every season. In winter you need to be careful when it's been freezing especially in the park and on all the bridges.

Then in the summer, it's the tourists. In most countries people are not used to cyclists, so it's hard to know all the written and unwritten rules. And when it comes to cycling there are a lot of both here in Amsterdam. It seems hard for people who don't live here to understand cycle lanes, and to understand the fact that canals are not pavements but roads. And you get the tourists who explore the city on their rented red or yellow bikes. Or as someone called them the other day, "the yellow danger".

My favourite cartoonist, Maaike Hartjes, draws simple characters, which in can convey a lot of emotion and which she uses to create very recognizable situations. I very much like her stories on her relationship, and relationships in general, and all the things that she experiences in her everyday life. She is a great observer and she has a wonderful sense of humour. And she is a cyclist in Amsterdam. She know what that is like in the summer, and yes, this could be me...



1. Another green light!
2. The wind in my back and it is a lovely day...
3. Watch out!
4. Next time I'm simply going to run them over!!!!

Nynke

Last night it was time for a different kind of music again, Nynke Laverman appeared at the Concertgebouw. A different venue, not some big smoky hall with people standing around talking and holding a beer in their hands, but a sophisticated hall with some 1200 people sitting down very nicely. Audience behaviour wasn't quite as bad, though I still ended up among peopl who insisted on talking even while Nynke was singing, and who were checking their phones every once in a while. I really don't get that. But no smoking, at least, and a very comfortable seat.

I've seen Nynke a few times before. I first saw her when she played "Sielesalt", Salt of the Soul, a few years ago. I'm not sure why I went then, I'd heard about this singer singing Portuguese fado's in Frysian so when I read she would be appearing in Amsterdam I decided to go. The lyrics were actually translations of poems by a poet I admire called Slauerhoff, a poet of the sea, the poet of longing, put to music by Custódio Castelo, originally for Cristina Branco. The songs were put together by Nynke to create a very moving fairy tale. After Sielesalt she made "Maisfrou", Latin American music telling another story, creating another atmosphere.

Last night she didn't play either piece, but she gave a concert, singing songs from both and some other songs. I guess this gave her more room to play and she seemed to be enjoying herself. It's a wonderful place to perform in, I guess, with a great atmosphere and great history. I once saw Ravi Shankar play there, and later Cristina Branco. Nynke seemed to feel at home here, and she gave a good and varied concert.

The Concertgebouw is a little unusual because some of the seats are up on the stage, and that is where I was. You look into the audience and see the performer from the back for some of the time. I quite enjoyed sitting there though, I liked the perspective.

Fell Off His Bike, Man

Yes, he can do it too....

The Best

What could possibly taste better than fresh strawberries, on a bread roll, eaten out in the Dunes on a Monday afternoon?

Edward A. Wilson

Tomorrow would have been Edward Wilson's 135th birthday. He died before he turned 40 though, and he celebrated his last birthday way down south on the Antarctic continent. He died out there, in March of the following year with his Polar companions Captain Scott and Birdie Bowers on his way back from the Pole.

I first found out about Edward Wilson when I found a very good copy of his "Birds of the Antarctic" at the Dutch Arctic weekend. I had never heard his name before, I just saw the words "Antarctic Birds" so I opened the book. I instantly fell in love with the man's drawings, they are beautifully simple and accurate. He was always after truth as well as beauty, and that shows in the drawings. I especially like all the little sketches that weren't really finished.

He was an unusual man too. He worked many hours, both in England and when he was in Antarctica, and sometimes he would work standing up, just to make sure he wouldn't fall asleep. He was dedicated in everything he did. He went with Apsley Cherry-Gerrard on the Worst Journey in the World, to try and find the missing link between reptiles and birds in the eggs of the Emperor Penguins.

He was a man of his time, and he shot many of the animals he loved, though he was also one of the first naturalist artists to draw from life, rather than stick to dead animals. He was one of the first to start the move for Penguin conservation at a time when penguins were still killed to provide fuel.



He was a religious man, and it was religion that shaped his life. He held his own church services in the Crow's Nest while on board the Terra Nova. He was uncle Bill on board ship, the one the men turned to if they needed someone to trust. He was open and cheerful, had a great sense of humour, but was at the same time a very private man.

I like the man, because he is a man of contradictions. He loved the natural world, but he killed birds for scientific reasons. He was a religious man, a man with a great sense of humour, and also a man with quite a temper at times. I like the fact that he has his flaws, he wasn't a saint, though I believe he was a good man. And I like the fact that we share a birthday.

Library

The city has built a new Public Library, a huge building, almost right next to the Central Station, on the Oosterdokseiland which is being developed. I borrowed some books on the 6 June at the old library, but had to return them to the new one. So I guess I helped move some of the inventory.

I went to the new library today, and it is big. You can see that from the outside, and you keep that feeling once you get inside. It is light and open, and there are 6 floors. It all looks fresh and new, there are many places where you can sit down to read, many computers to use, and a lot of books. I like places with a lot of books.

From the restaurant up on the 7th floor you get a great view of the city, I could even see my office from up there, and you can see as far out as the Zuidas and the Arena. The restaurant is a franchise, I guess, it's big and fairly luxurious. It's a good place for a restaurant, with such a view.

I feel a little nostalgic for the old library though. Not quite so big, a little old and worn, but on the Prinsengracht, to my mind much more in the centre of the city. And there was a small café where you could buy a good coffee for very little money and just sit and read a newspaper.

I found the new library a little overwhelming, and I only went to see a small part of it. I'll go and see a little more next time. Looking at the little plan I took there are a lot of intriguing places to explore. So, to be continued.

Bird Names

Birds can have the most exotic and beautiful names, and some I'd love to see simply because of their names. I'd love to see a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker some time, or a California Quail, and what does a Hairy Woodpecker look like? Or a Bar-bellied Woodpecker? The Slender-billed Flufftail sounds beautiful, but I have no idea what it looks like. And what exactly is the difference between a Rufous-necked Foliage-gleaner, a Rufous-tailed Foliage-gleaner, and a Rufous-rumped Foliage-gleaner? What's a Pilotbird? Or a Pipipi?

I know what Noddys look like, and yes I'd love to see them. That means more sailing... Then there is that great bird, the Blue-footed Booby, which really is Blue-footed, it looks wonderful, as wonderful as its name, but I haven't had a chance to see it yet. There are so many different lapwings and plovers, again with the most fanciful names, and I know they generally look elegant and beautiful.

I know what an Inaccessible Island Rail looks like, I was very close to the place where it lives, but I am highly unlikely ever to get a chance to see it. The same is true for the Tristan Moorhen. They sound wonderful though. And I guess anything with a name containing Tristan, Nightingale, Inaccessible, Chatham, Gough, Kerguelen, Crozet sounds promising to me. I know where to find them, I've read about all these places, these remote islands, and I'd love to visit them all some time.



And I'm lucky, because I've already seem both the Flying and the Flightless Steamerduck. I've seen Avocets, some of the most beautiful birds I know, but I haven't seen the American Avocet yet. I've seen Black-legged Kittiwakes and heard them call their own name. I've seen the beautiful Adelie penguin at the place where it lives, and I have seen the mythological Wandering Albatross, the Sooty Albatross and that extraordinary Light-mantled Albatross. I've seen Wilson's Storm-Petrel, that tiny bird that lives on the roughest oceans of the world. I've seen White-crested Elaenias, Fire-eyed Diucons, even more beautifully described by the Dutch "Vuuroogmonjita". I've seen the Cape Bulbul, a lovely little bird, but I know there are many more Bulbuls out there. And I've seen the Thorn-tailed Rayadito, a small bird as beautiful as its name.



For some birds I know the Latin names, rather than the normal ones, like the Anhinga anhinga, commonly known as Anhinga (?), the Tadorna Tadorna, commonly known as the Common Shelduck, Nycticorax nycticorax, commonly known as the Black-crowned Night Heron (talk about a beautiful name), which I've seen on three continents.



There are nearly 10.000 different bird species in the world, and I've seen only a few of those. I'm not one of those birdwatchers who will chase species just to be able to add them to my list. There are some birds I would love to see though, because they intrigue me, because they look so beautiful on pictures I've seen or in documentaries, because they are part of literature or mythology, or simply because they have such a lovely name.

Then again, there are birds I can sit and watch over and over again. Seeing the first Godwits come back here in the spring, the first Swifts at the end of April, seeing Woodpeckers or Avocets, Stonechats or Wheatears will always make me happy. It's good to keep dreaming as well.

Khadak

I went to see a film about Mongolia the other day, called "Khadak". I had a feeling I might not be able to understand it fully, so I decided beforehand I wasn't going to try. It was a moving film, and it was beautifully filmed. I heard it described as visual poetry, and that is what it was. Some of the images made a great impression, like the way the film opens, a beautiful picture of a young woman counting. There are images of a tree on the plain, filmed in such a special way. You can feel the sadness of the film, the alienation, the depression of the city. I felt connected to the characters, even in such a strange environment.

A few years ago I was given a small pouch by someone who had just visited Mongolia, and in this film I saw that this has a special purpose. The men in the film shared a small flask, and that was kept in just such a pouch. Nice to know.

Reni Was Back

I went to see Reni Laine in the Melkweg last night. She shared the bill with Martin Gabriel and Ralph. It was good to see her and David again. She played another very lively set, playing songs from the American Baby album, and some new ones, which I enjoyed. I liked the new haircut too. She was easily the most interesting of the three acts that appeared on stage last night, and it was good to see her doing so well. She played "American Baby" especially for Paris Hilton....

It was a slightly unusual concert, really, a showcase for three acts, and the Dutch act, Ralph van Manen, appeared to have invited a lot of family and friends, which made for an unusual audience in the Melkweg. They were obviously not regulars. Reni had to make an effort to get people to come closer to the stage because most were a little shy. What I also noticed was that the Dutch audiences seem to get more rude all the time. Some people seemed to talk throughout the evening, even during the quiet songs. And then the mobile phones. You could see the little lights flashing throughout the evening, and people walking out to take the call. I just don't get that.

Little Men

Sometimes I wonder who that little man is, sitting in his office all day checking all these hundreds of thousands of websites for MacAfee, and who keeps telling me which sites are safe to visit, and which will annoy me with lots of pop-ups and messages I don't want. I like him. I think he probably has an office next to the other little man who keeps sending me updates very regularly. They must be pretty busy down there, I think they have a lot of customers to look after.

Nostalgia

My parents are trying to clear out their attic so I'm moving my old stuff out of there. It's a tiny attic so getting my boxes out is a challenge in itself, and then there is the question of what I will actually find in those boxes. To a great extent I know, but I don't know it all. My old dolls are all up there, some other toys, papers and old scrapbooks. Sorting through it all brings back a lot of good memories for me. Playing with those dolls with my friends for hours on end. Postcards I got from my dad when he was at work in another town and couldn't be there during the week. And postcards I got when I was in hospital for a week when I was about 11 years old. Lots of things I made when I was in school, like a small knitted snowman and a purse. And football memorabilia from way back when I was a staunch supporter of the Dutch national soccer team in 1974. Or rather when I supported a player called Johan Neeskens. Some of the things in the boxes I knew about, others I thought had vanished long ago, and some I haven't found yet.

I started out by sorting out my old Barbie dolls. I have quite a few, all vintage now, but they have been played with a lot, so they would not be considered collectible. I liked seeing them again though, because they brought back a lot of good memories, and that is the only thing that makes them really valuable for me. I played with these dolls for hours with my friends, and we lived whole imaginary lives, creating homes and other environments for the dolls to live in. I still have some of the old clothes, my mother knitted a lot of clothes for my dolls. So I still have lots of knitted dresses, capes, sweaters and trousers. It must have taken her a lot of time to make all of them, but they were greatly appreciated. Then there are the little shoes, coathangers, gloves and even lingerie. It's been good fun sorting it out, but then I guess I need to think of what to do with them. For now they will get a nice home in my attic.




I checked my old photo album and found a couple of pictures of me with the dolls. One of them tells me that I got a couple of dolls on my fifth birthday. And, by the way, I still have the pram too, it's still up in the attic.




And that I cherished them enough to hold them all with me for the next Christmas picture.

Bright Eyes Again

I got to see Bright Eyes here in Amsterdam last Wednesday night. They played at the Melkweg, a big venue, which seemed to be sold out. A big crowd in The Max. I've been listening to the latest album, Cassadaga, so much, I know all the songs, and I was very much looking forward to the concert. And I wasn't disappointed.

Conor and the band all wore white suits, a mixed band of men and women, a lot of people on stage, and a great variety of instruments, including cello, violin and flute.



I was way up at the top of the hall, so I sometimes had trouble seeing everything, but I could hear everything very well. And I had brought my binoculars, which helped. It all sounded very much like the album, which I liked in a way. though sometimes it is nice if a concert adds something to the album. Still, considering the arrangements of the albums, I was pleasantly surprised by the sound. I was amazed by the sound of Conor's voice, which managed to send shivers down my spine again, the way it also does when I listen to the albums. There is a haunting quality to his voice and his songs, and it can be hard to get them out of your mind. There seems to be a Bright Eyes song in mine most of the time these days.

Deaf

I'm deaf in one ear, and have been for as long as I can remember. I don't know if I was born deaf or whether I became deaf from the many ear infections I had as a child. The specialist doesn't agree with himself on that issue. He operated on my ear when I was ten, but couldn't solve the problem at the time. He said then that it was caused by scar tissue from the infections. He also told me to come back once I had grown up, he might be able to help me then. When I did, however, he denied ever having operated on me, he could find no scar, and he told me I'd been deaf since birth after a very short inspection. I was stunned and went for a second opinion. The other doctor couldn't determine the cause of my deafness, but did confirm that there wasn't really anything he could do.

For me being deaf has never been much of a problem. In fact, it was only discovered when I was about ten. I knew I had one ear that didn't work, I just never knew this was not the same for everyone. I thought everyone had one good and one bad ear. When I was at school my hearing was tested sometimes, but initially always by someone whispering in one corner of the room, and me being in another corner with one ear covered by my hand. Apparently not a very good testing method. When the testing method was changed and I was given headphones and had to listen to beeps coming from a little box, suddenly it turned out I was deaf in one ear. No surprise to me, I was just surprised other people had two ears to use.

I now know that my deafness can't be cured, and that is okay. I know that are disadvantages to this, but I've lived with those all my life. I need to be extra careful in traffic because very often I can hear traffic approaching, but I don't know from which direction. I can hear birds singing when I'm out walking, but again, I don't know if they are ahead of me or behind me. I don't know what stereo sounds like, and if I'm on the phone I can't hear what goes on anywhere else. At parties or in big groups I'm a little lost because there is too much noise for me to deal with. There are advantages too. If there is too much noise at night, and other people can't sleep, all I have to do is turn over on my good ear and I can't hear anything.

A couple of years ago I discovered that my deafness influenced my life and my development in more ways than I had realised. I had some problems with my shoulders and arms and had to have some physical therapy. The therapist discovered that I was a little crooked. Somehow we came to talk about my being deaf, and she then concluded that was a reason for my being crooked, I always turn my ear to the person talking to me! This is so simple, and nobody thought of it before. Now I know about this I can see myself doing it. If I walk on the "wrong" side of someone, that makes me very nervous, so I can be seen dancing around people to get to the right side so I can hear. And sometimes, if I cannot be on the right side of someone it happens I don't hear what is being said, so I don't reply, and that can be very rude. I try to tell people about being deaf, but I often forget, because it is so natural to me.

Being deaf can also give you a sense of being on the outside, of being shut out. I often have to make an extra effort to hear and it doesn't always work. If I have a meeting for work I like to make sure I get there on time so I can choose a place to sit where I can hear all people present. I don't even think about it anymore, it just comes naturally.

Opening Hours

I had dinner at a Malaysian restaurant yesterday. Why would a restaurant have such opening hours?

Storks

I have storks breeding in my backyard now. I don't know if they have done that before, not in recent years anyway, but they seem to be successful this year. There actually are three young in the nest and they seem pretty big now. They will probably fledge soon. I know there are quite a few storks breeding here again now, but it is very nice to have these big birds breeding right in the middle of the city.

I sat and watched them for a while yesterday afternoon, and seemed to have ended up in a spot where some homeless people hang out. There was one man sitting on a bench to my right, who probably has some kind of disorder. He was talking to himself, gesticulating violently, but not doing any harm. On the bench to my left were three or four men, drinking beers and talking about the storks and the other birds. At some point one of the men put his beer on the bench and turned the other way. Just at that moment the man from the bench to my right walked over, took the beer, and walked back again, looking very innocent. After that the men on my left got into a heated argument about disappearing cans of beer. It was an interesting debate, because one of the men seemed into psychology and he was telling the others how to let go and relax. Then a woman turned up to join the man, and later a black man joined them. These two then got into an argument about money lent and not returned. There was a lot going on in the space of about an hour, but it never felt uncomfortable somehow. We all just sat there, all minding our own business, while a lot of people walked past to have a look at the storks on their nest.

Close to the nest you also get a good chance to see Gray Herons trying to catch a meal. They are much more common here maybe, but still very beautiful. City birds, that you will sometimes find in the middle of the road. Schoffies.



For some really nice pictures of the storks, check:
LEXsample

Fell Off the Bike, Man

I managed to fall off my bike again this morning. I'm getting good at this. I'm still not sure what happened because technically I wasn't even on my bike. I had stopped, coming down off the skinny bridge, to give way to another cyclist, who then stopped to give way to me, and before I knew it I had fallen sideways and hit a little post on the side of the bridge. I was lucky it was there really, or I would have hit the ground. Now it was just my bike hitting the ground. My bike did hit my left shin bone, just on the spot where the ship's ladder hit me last January.

I still have my cold, and almost no voice, I think my brain, my eyesight and my coordination have left with my voice. Things, like doors, keep walking into me. I'm just an easy target at the moment. I guess.

I guess the other cyclist was lucky this morning that I still have no voice, I might have been less than nice. But just now I'm not even sure who is supposed to give way there, no other cyclist has ever stopped there for me. So I might have said something to someone who was actually doing it right and who was being nice.

On my way home this afternoon I had a good look round the crossing there, and yes, I do have the right of way there. Good to know.

Keeping Still

I am minus my voice at the moment. I have a cold, and my capacity to speak is almost zero. Some might say that is nice and peaceful, but to me it is just pretty frustrating. When I try to have a conversation on the phone I have to limit myself to three minutes, then my voice gives in. Not very friendly, but I can't help it. The most frustrating thing is not being able to sing, I don't usually realise how much I sing. Last night I sat and listened to Donny Osmond in concert in Wales, and he sang all my favourites and I couldn't sing along. And again tonight at the Concert for Diana he turned up again and sang Joseph and I had to keep still. It's just not fair.

Up on the Roof

Last night I looked out my window and saw this beautiful rainbow. So I went up on my roof to have a good look....

An Acoustic Motorbike in the Dutch Monsoon

This is the Dutch Monsoon season. After the hot days earlier this year, we now have to deal with the wet days. Sometimes you get lucky and you just see all the rain from inside your home or your office, and you can sit there, staring for a little while, daydreaming, all these romantic songs about rain in your head.

But then you get the days when you look out the window and you realise you need to go somewhere, and that you are going to get wet. Like today. Just when I am getting ready to leave work it looks pretty grey, but not too bad really. Then I have to organise a few things I haven't gotten round to earlier, and by the time I leave it is actually quite wet outside. I don't usually mind too much, and I'm used to it all, and I always think I have good weatherproof gear. Well, I don't.

Going just round the corner from my work I realise that my raincoat has this really wide collar, so, really, you need to use your hand to keep it a little closed and to keep the rain from coming in. The only disadvantage to that is that you gradually get the rain seeping in through your sleeves. And at every corner you have to put both hands on the handlebars anyway.

Gradual is a good word for this process really. At some point, still somewhere in the town centre, I can feel this tiny damp patch appearing on the outside of my right knee. It's always the same place. Then I can feel it spreading. I guess it's both the strong and the weak point of my rain trousers, that big zip at the side. It makes them easy to get into, and it lets the water in.(Just as I'm typing this John Fogerty is singing "Who'll Stop the Rain" at the Glastonbury Festival, which I recorded. It's one of those days. And I guess it was apt for Glastonbury as well).

Usually by the time my right knee is thoroughly wet I reach my house, but today is different. Just as I am cycling into the park, I can feel another damp patch appearing on the outside of my left knee. A first in this process. And here it starts spreading too. For some reason on the right leg it spreads up, on the left one it spreads down. Can anyone give a scientific explanation for this?

At this time I can also feel my socks getting just a little damp, and I can feel the moisture on my arms and shoulders. Today by this time it gets pretty bad, and I don't feel very comfortable cycling under the trees with the thunder and lightning around.

Then I reach my exit out of the park, and I move my foot down just a little to accelerate as I have to climb out of the park. When my sock touches the sole of my shoe with some force I can feel the sock absorb the water and it goes from damp to soaking wet in two seconds flat. Just in the right shoe though, the left just gets a little more damp.

I go into the garage to park my bike there, and as I walk up and out I can feel that the water has by now reached a lot of other parts of me that I shouldn't care to mention here. When I get in I need to change out of all my clothes.

It takes me a little while to get dry again, and then, when I am wearing all these lovely dry clothes again, I get the urge for going. So I grab my bag and I'm off. It's dry outside now, but within 10 minutes I am in the pool. Lovely, all this water...

Bright Eyes

What is it about Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes that can cut right through your soul?

Church Music

Luka Bloom was going to appear at a special, secret concert somewhere in Amsterdam to launch his new album "Tribe". I heard about it some time ago, but the only way to get into the concert would be to order the new cd and then hope you would win a ticket. Now, being the true fan that I am, I ordered the cd from the website when it was first released, so was I going to get another one? While I was still thinking about that I saw at an Amsterdam record shop that if you pre-ordered the cd there you would get a ticket, so I figured that might be a better option. I'd have another copy of the cd, but that is okay because I don't mind giving away Luka cds as a present. Then I heard about a competition you could simply enter through the internet, one very difficult question, "what is Luka Bloom's real name", and you could win two tickets. So I thought I'd try that one first, and if it didn't work, I'd go and order the cd.

Well, I ended up winning tickets for the concert in the Amstelkerk today through the competition of the record company, so I was very happy. An unexpected Luka concert at an unusualy venue and at an unusual time. The concert was held in the daytime, so the sunlight was streaming in through the high windows of the church. Luka could see his audience as well as we could see him. The Amstelkerk isn't a traditional church building, it's a little like an open square with the building surrounding it, even when you're inside the building. I think Luka enjoyed the atmosphere. He mentioned 4 seconds during his childhood when he had considered being a priest and this was probably as close as he was ever going to get. So he started with "We are gathered here today...." The setlist was a little different from most concerts, and different from the concert last night in Utrecht:

Throw Your Arms Around Me (for Chris from the record company, celebrating his 20th wedding anniversary today)
As I Waved Goodbye (rehearsing for a performance before the Dalai Lama in Derry in July)
Here and Now
Sunny Sailor Boy (a chance for the congregation to sing)
Lebanon
Tribe
I Am A River (with the help of Paddy Apple)
Out There (with Paddy again)
Change (with Paddy)
Exploring the Blue (where he forgot the words to one of the verses and needed a little time to recover)
Wave Up to the Shore (Luka was inspired by the atmosphere an he sang this a capella and "unplugged": it was very powerful and beautiful.)

Encore (both songs were requests):
Primavera
Black Is the Colour (ending unplugged again)

The set really suited the venue, and made this a very special and unusual concert. Some of the new songs for the first time live for me, and then this beautiful old song "Wave Up to the Shore". Luka seemed relaxed and he was in great voice. He came out to sign cds after the concert and took time to chat to people, which was nice. I'm looking forward to the concerts in October now.

Literary Ladies

Last night I was being all cultural again, I went to a reading by three women writers, Edna O'Brien, Esther Freud and Rachel Cusk. Chair for the evening was the Belgian Kristien Hemmerechts. She was the reason I went to this evening, really. I've read almost all her books, and find her writing extremely moving, exciting and challenging. She makes me think. She also demands a lot from her readers, and when I've read one of her books I need to read some other things before I can go on to the next one. She signed one of my books last night, and I am very pleased about that. The reason why she was chair for the evening is that she is a lecturer in English Literature at Brussels University. She created a pretty good and lively debate.

I've read a few books by Edna O'Brien and like her writing, but I didn't really know the two other women. I liked Esther Freud though, her clear thinking and outspoken ideas, close to home for me. Rachel Cusk seemed a little more chaotic and less in control, but she admitted that that was much the point of her writing. Life seems to happen to her much of the time, and in her novels she is in control. I did like that idea very much, it's one way of trying to make sense of what is happening in and around you.

The debate was about feminism, female writers, about illness and death, about political writing, and the themes seemed to come back all evening and be closely related. One of the issues was the use of autobiographical material in novels and that sparked a heated debate. Would a question about this be asked of a male writer? Is there a difference in this respect between men and women? Rachel Cusk got very fired up about this. And aren't all good books political without dealing with overtly political issues? I cannot imagine a good and worthwhile book that isn't in some way political. I guess it all depends on how you define the word political though. It was an interesting debate.

Edna O'Brien was very clear about most of the issues. She held that you do write from within yourself, from your own experience. That is what you start out with, and then you discard all the things you don't need. It's the discarding that fascinates me.

Just Around the Corner

OK, so I thought it was a good idea at the time, we all make mistakes. There is this small Italian restaurant just round the corner from where I live. I walk past it several times a week, the people always seemed friendly, and I like small, slightly unusual restaurants. So I went to have dinner there last night. I mean, just round the corner, Italian, what can go wrong?

Well, it's a little hard to order your dinner if the waiter only speaks Italian, and you don't really speak any. And if there is no menu, just a little piece of paper with a few choices in Italian. And then you order a glass of white wine and a beer for your dinner companion and you get a bottle of white wine instead. You manage to get across that you are a vegetarian, which is enough for the waiter, so he tells you. Shortly after you get a huge salad, very nice, but huge. And then you get a full plate of pasta, again, very nice, but a full plate. And just when you think it is all quite sufficient, you get a piece of pie, a glass of liqueur and a coffee.

I mean, it tasted quite well, but all I wanted was a main course and a glass of wine. And then, when it's all over you begin to wonder. How did this happen? Where was I? Why didn't I say something at the time? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. Usually. I managed to walk home, I managed to get up the stairs, but that is all I managed for the rest of the evening. I did try, but all I could do really was go to bed at 9.30 and go straight to sleep. And then wake up at 1.30 and stay awake for most of the rest of the night. And then you get a very nice friend tell you in the morning, all the way from Belgium, that you have a hangover. I mean, what is happening with the world? Hangover? Me? I mean, I thought it was a good idea at the time....

International Week

Sometimes things happen almost by accident. Last week I found a cousin of mine who's been living in the United States for the past 14 years, and I hadn't seen her or been in touch with her for all that time. I know the internet is a mixed blessing, but this is a really nice thing to happen. She lives in the mountains on a little farm, but I can still be in touch with her, exchange photographs and find out what's been happening.

And then, when I got home from the theatre last Saturday night, I checked my emails to find my brother in law on-line. So, I ended up chatting with a relative in Mexico. He's only there for a holiday, but it was nice to catch up with what's been happening with him. I just realised though, I forgot to ask if he has bettered his record on the 5 km. I'll have to wait until he gets back home. To Belgium that is. Where he lives.

And I didn't even get to leave the country.....

Fiona Shaw

I used to go to the theatre in London a lot, and saw a lot of very good actors and actresses. One of those was Fiona Shaw. I first saw her at the RSC playing Celia opposite Juliet Stevenson's Rosalind in "As You Like It", then Kate to Brian Cox's Petruchio in "The Taming of the Shrew", and Mistress Carol opposite Alex Jennings' Fairfield in James Shirley's Hyde Park, a lovely production. And then I saw her again a few years later in "The Way of the World" at the National Theatre. She's an unusual and impressive actress who manages to create something new when she is up on stage. It seems a little sad that her best known work seems to be Aunt Petunia to Harry Potter.

She was in Amsterdam today to present "Readings", a performance directed by Deborah Warner, in which she read some of her favourite poetry. Some Shakespeare and Chekhov, little readings from plays in which she played all the parts. A lot of Yeats and some Dickinson. She moved easily from one piece to another, from one setting to another and created an intimate and moving performance. She ended with the story of Paolo and Francesco in the words of Jeannette Winterson, a moving story very beautifully told. There was such emotion there, that quite amazed me. It was nice to see that one woman, with very few props and staging could hold the attention of the audience with her voice and the words of great poets. I was very tired when I entered the theatre, but spellbound throughout the performance. It took me a little time afterwards to come back down to earth.

Ela(n)stiek

Yesterday I was at a festival, lovely atmosphere and wonderful music. The festival is called Elastiek and it takes place in a small village in the south of the country. A lot happens there, an outdoor market, games for the children, street theatre, and a lot of music. Two big stages, and a lot of performers, with some big names in there. The atmosphere was good, lots of volunteers and very few police. Some places were very crowded, but nobody got aggressive. It is a strange mixture, really. There are a lot of commercial activities, you can buy clothes, jewellery and other trinkets, there are some second-hand bookstalls. You can buy all kinds of food and drink everywhere, get a henna tattoo, support charitable organisations and you can get beer everywhere.

I was there to see An Pierlé again, really. Her first show in the Netherlands for about 6 months, so I couldn't really miss that. She played in a big tent in the Church Square. A slightly shorter concert than usual, and a different atmosphere, because not everybody was in there for the music, and there was a lot of talking at the bar in the background. She left out some of the really quiet songs, a good decision. A very mixed audience this time, some who had never heard of An. I talked to a man who was complaining about having to pay a lot of money for concert tickets to see people who didn't even make much of an effort. This time he got a lot of effort from the people on stage for free. He must have left the tent a very happy man. A lot of children there too, and a lot of photographers.


The accordeon seems to get more and more battered. A few keys were missing last time, this time it seemed to be held together by tape in some places as well. It still produced the right sound though. The little play that is part of Sing Song Sally these days seems to get more and more extensive. An obviously enjoys it.

A lot of children had found themselves a good place between the barrier and the stage. An made good use of that, persuading some 7 or 8 little boys to join her on stage for the final song "Paris s'eveille". The boys needed a little direction at first, but soon they got into the spirit and provided some good dancing in the background.


I had a go at taking pictures again. I'm not that good at taking pictures under such difficult circumstances, but I guess I got lucky and was in the right place at the right time. I actually managed to get some nice photographs this time, and I'm really pleased about that. Now I need a little more practice. The concerts in my backyard are about to start again, so I might have a go at some of those.

Bible

I started rereading the Bible last week. I once read all of it, reading five chapters a day, and I've started doing that again. I've just started Exodus, the big stories of Creation, the Flood, Abraham, Jacob and Esau, Joseph in Genesis behind me, and now Moses to take his people out of Egypt shortly. I'm enjoying doing this again because it's been so long, and though I do know all the stories, it is good to go back to the source and read the details again. I'll be in the middle of the big stories for a while yet, but I'm already looking forward to the psalms and the prophets.

A Grand Day Out

Not Again...

I went swimming again today, and I had to drag myself out of the pool in the end, because I really had to go. Maybe someone can remind me that I'm an idiot next time I decide not to go swimming because there are all these other important things I need to do.

Swifts Again

The sky is full of Swifts today. It's a beautiful sight, those dark, acrobatic flyers against a bright blue sky.