[at the intersection of Weg tot de Wetenschap and Weg naar Rhijnauwen, the main turn before reaching the university campus].
I was biking towards the city center when I bumped into Rob from Germany. Rob repaired the rear brakes on my bike about a month ago. Before that, I had let my roommate Brian borrow the busted bike for brief trips. Just use your feet! I told him.
~
Rob was in a sticky situation. Someone stole his bike — only it wasn’t Rob’s bike in the first place. His friend was in Paris, and she let him borrow it for the weekend. So not only would he have to walk all the way back home in Zeist (quite far away), but he would also have to explain to his friend what just happened.
“And it’s her birthday tomorrow, too!”
~
Rob tells me that this is just a minor problem in the grand scheme of things. He has good friends. He lives in a lively, gorgeous city. He has a great life by all accounts. His friend won’t be too thrilled about losing her main form of transportation, but they’ll probably laugh about it within a week or two.
[But still, for a student this kinda sucks.]
~
Rob needs to run if he wants to get back home while it is still bright.
He takes off his sandals and continues barefoot, but not before giving me a chocolate Easter egg.
Easter holidays are here in Utrecht — this includes the two days after Easter itself. And while the Netherlands isn’t a religious country, the cities and people still take advantage of the extra rest.
The Dutch are punctual people. It’s 3:58 PM. The doors open once again at 4:00 PM.
Still, it’s nice to have the grocery store open, even if it’s later during the day.
Long ago he was assigned to be my student mentor. I imagined we would chat about our life at home, share food, and go on adventures together — all in the interest of “cultural exchange”.
We met each other once and then became occasional one minute “how’s the weather” conversation buddies instead.
~
Back in December he wrote me on Facebook.
“for one of my courses me and my projectgroup have to make a short promotion video for a website we are making. In this video we want to put someone that doesn’t look Dutch…Do you want to help us?”
Huh? What do you mean, doesn’t look Dutch?! Grrrr! I remember asking myself what that meant.
Marc and I were sitting on the benches at Café Jan Primus, near the University College Utrecht campus. It’s still a bit chilly at night to be sitting outside, but Torun, Marc’s dog, keeps farting.
“I’m telling you Wesley, it’s driving me nuts.”
Marc loves Torun regardless, but we sit outside anyway as a courtesy to the other patrons. Torun’s diet will have to change, but for now, the fresh air will do.
Dave and Merel came by to say hello. They had been drinking earlier — but oh, why not one more beer? Marc is here. And next to him is some kid who’s obviously not from around town.
We chat for a bit.
~
Marc went to the bathroom, so it was just Dave, Merel, and I for a moment.
Dave would tell me what it meant express gratitude, and what it means to find happiness and fulfillment in life. This was a familiar conversation, but the oxygen tank connected to his chair must have added extra weight to his words.
I told him I didn’t know what I was doing. He told me I had plenty of time, and that he didn’t know either, other than that he’s becoming more comfortable with himself. It wasn’t until he was thirty that he fully accepted his condition.
Even at the age of forty he still has self-doubt. That part never goes away. But for him, it’s not as suffocating as it once was.
I find that notion oddly comforting.
~
Some fun questions I like to ask couples in long-term relationships:
1) How did you two meet?
Perhaps there’s a story shared between the two. In Dave’s case, his guide dog became the first conversation topic between he and his future wife.
[On another note, being with a dog tends to make you more approachable as a man, at least to strangers — provided that the other person is not afraid of dogs.]
2) How has she influenced you? I asked Dave how Merel influenced him. Merel was already attentive in the conversation, but I could already see her perk up.
Dave gives it some thought, then answers. Merel shared with Dave what it means to relax and enjoy life, instead of having to put on a serious face all the time because people expected him to.
I turn to Merel, and ask:
3) And how has he influenced you?
Merel gives it some thought, then answers. Dave shared with Merel what it means to be self-reliant and confident in your own abilities — instead of feeling helpless by circumstances you can’t control.
~
The things Dave and Merel mentioned were probably similar to what they say to each other in private.
But I’ve noticed that telling other people how much someone else means to you gives those special words even more weight.
The two were already in a good mood, but perhaps even better now.
~
Marc came back from the bathroom. I excused myself and went as well. I had been holding my pee this entire time, because keeping the conversation going was more important.
It’s the special kind of dizziness you get from spinning around too much.
Sometimes I feel this while when running down the stairs from the top floor of the apartment building. Dutch staircases are famous for being narrow and steep to save money.
I wonder if the same feeling applies if I’m looking at M.C. Escher’s “Relativity”.
My neighbor Maja walks up and down fourteen flights of stairs each time she returns and leaves home. Not once has she taken the elevator the entire time she’s been living here in Cambridgelaan. Even in large groups, if people are taking the elevator, she will still be taking the stairs.
Is it out of principle? Habit? Health? Or just plain stubborn? Perhaps it’s a combination of them all.
–
My neighbor Brian and I are doing the same: taking the stairs up and down. The lift has a habit of breaking down with people inside of them anyway.
The ethics committee at Utrecht University governs what can and can’t be done in scientific experiments, especially in psychology and social neuroscience. Experiments with any threat of inflicting psychological or physical harm on a participant are forbidden. (e.g. Milgram, Stanford Prison Experiment)
A shame really, because those experiments are often the most cited, and revealing.
[In other words, the glory days of psychology are long gone.]
Freud meant no harm.
Having an ethics committee sounds good (and morally sound) in principle, but now it just leads to a whole bunch of bureaucracy and paperwork. Graduate students and professors complain about how it takes years just to get approval for some experiments.
~
“Do we have to worry about the ethics committee?” asked Marissa. We are in a study group together and we need to come up with a project proposal within two weeks.
“Not here.” said the professor. “They’re quite good.”
Jaap says I skate like a prostitute — with my legs wide open. To say that I look like Bambi on ice would be more politically correct, but Jaap’s way of phrasing things is more entertaining. Some people say he’s a lompe boer, or a farmer who behaves or says things in a crude way. (It’s a term of endearment).
And while I never really did manage to close up my legs, I’ve improved to the point where I’m no longer stumbling after after every stride. I’m no longer the foreigner on the team who can’t skate. Now I’m just the foreigner.
~
The ice rinks are closing as the weather becomes warmer.
But before you can leave the ice rink, there are two things you must do (or at least this is what the Utrecht team does):
Skate in the opposite direction.
Traditionally, you skate counter-clockwise around the track. You go straight, and turn left around the corner, and that’s really about all you do. Not once did I have to make a conscious effort did I have to turn right.
So imagine what it’s like to turn right for the first time in months. I couldn’t do it, and neither could most of the team. People would hold hands and lean on each other as support.
2. Jog one lap barefoot around the ice track.
Or two, if you’re feeling particularly daring. The ice is cold to the point that it sticks to your bare feet, so there are no worries about slipping and falling on your bum.
~
Back in September when I was planning what I wanted to do during the year, I wanted to speed skate because:
It’s typical Dutch. It’s the one and only sport the Dutch go nuts for during the Olympics, and the one sport they dominate. And if studying abroad is all about experiencing different cultures, why not give the national sport a shot?
It’s novel, it’s cool, and it’s something I wouldn’t be able to do back home in California. I wanted to try something new, and the thought of zipping around the ice at high speeds appealed to me.
And okay, maybe I wanted to see what it was like to wear those skin-tight body suits. Jaap let me borrow his for a week and I felt like the top banana.
De Vechtsebanen, where I would skate during the winter.
~
Woensdag is schaatsdag.
Every Wednesday at 9:30 PM, I would bike forty minutes to De Vechtsebanen for skating practice. We would skate until midnight and then go for a cup of tea, some warm Chocomel with whipped cream, or some beers to make it a brisk trip back home. I often wouldn’t be back home until 2 or 3 AM, although that’s also due to my habit of stopping by the student bar to say hello to the regulars — a hello that often lasted for at least an hour.
I did that every week for six months. Speed skating (and the usual routine associated with it) was something I looked forward to on a regular basis, so it feels odd to have that gone now.
