In the Neighborhood

I had been trying to write a quick post about how things are going here, now almost a month in, but Talia beat me to it. So, for the first time, we're going to have a guest blogger on Brekkie. Ladies and gentlereaders, my wife:

It's quite funny to be back in a house that you custom designed 12 years ago. Some of the aspects are not, as it turns out, timeless. Having been put to the Rental for 9 Years Test, I am grateful that most is very well built, but why did we install so many hooks? Perhaps when the weather turns and these long summer clear sky days turn inevitably to dark, rainy, and wintery ones it will all become clear.

It's wonderful to be back on this block with many of the same neighbors who lived here all those years ago. Some we knew, the ones with kids, and some who didn't have kids then but do now we met recently at a party our downstairs neighbors hosted. One such neighbor even recalled that when I was pregnant with Felix our street was being re-cobbled and when we returned from the hospital Alec had written Hoera! in front of our home with loose bricks. We certainly didn't remember, but it was truly touching to hear this at the time total stranger relay this lovely story. Alec, ever the historian, was able to pull up a picture of it [above --Ed.]. It's very much how we are all feeling right now about being in Amsterdam again.

I think at the time I was uncomfortable meeting the many people who lived across the street from me, who know so much about me (as I do about them) since it's a pretty narrow street and our windows and lives are always open and in each others faces. I think I thought then that if I didn't know their names or acknowledge them on the small street perhaps they won't be able to see even further into my life than they already do.

Somehow with this party our neighbors hosted, whatever that feeling from 12 years ago when we first moved in to Saxenburgerstraat, washed away. And it's a relief. 

There are things to adjust to: the so very many and narrow stairs, needing to weigh the fruits and veggies before going to the cashier, that finding a decent spot to park your bike is only slightly less challenging than finding parking for your car. It's a very very crowded city, especially now with all the summer tourists.

There are things I forgot that I'm so happy to have again: the herring is even better than I remember it. So is the yogurt, which has become our evening family ritual - we polish off two containers between the 4 of us and our newest favorite flavor is hazelnut. A morning run in the Vondel Park. Jumping into the Amstel to cool off. 

We are getting settled: as of this week we have both cell phones and internet at home, the kids are schedule for camps (Gideon will start with two weeks of language camp, and Felix with one week of sailing followed by a week of language camp). We are arranging a bike trip with another family to Friesland. We are working on our travel calendar for the year. I'm starting to look for a job locally, but also because timing is sometimes funny have a new SF-based client for survey work.

We both use WhatsApp, and so should you. FaceTime, Skype, Signal, happy to receive your messages any which way, including your birthday wishes and holiday cards by snail mail.

 

All [our] love,

 

[Us]

Rough landing

They didn't make it easy to go, those friends of ours. Tugged at our heart strings they did, with this send-off video, and many an accompanying hug and farewell from those friends, from family, from neighbors, from co-workers even. And California itself those last few weeks, the green and the gold, the bridge and the ocean, how can you leave such beauty behind? By buying a plane ticket and then alternating between panic and drunkenness until the moment that plane takes off. At least that's how we did it.

Well, almost. There was certainly a good deal of panic. Every day for many, many weeks, it was the same: awake at 5, fret for an hour or so, then leap out of bed only to be reminded there's no way to fry an egg and hardly a cup to pour oatmeal into, only the first of the day's hurdles. So start leaping: over boxes, over piles, over mounds of earth and rock (link to a future post, a story in itself), over bridges, over contracts and papers and emails. Then, at some point, most days, things turned: a friend stops by to help, or one realizes it's only a shot or two before that bottle can be recycled, and somehow work is done and drunkenness begun. Sleep and repeat.

I got through it all by envisioning that moment right after takeoff when I would recline and fall asleep, floating away to a land where there would be no boxes to pack, where I could live in peace and quiet rather than next to a construction site. But the universe, with a sense of humor somewhat less mature than Gideon's, arranged things otherwise. For starters, this scene at SFO:

Stepladders near a jetliner's engine can only mean great delay, and certainly these did. Then there's this:

Those are keys left behind by nine years of renters, nor were these the only keys, nor keys the only detritus. Pillows and electrical converters and cups and mayonnaise...turns out our packing isn't done, it's only time for round 2. Ha ha, what a jolly sense of humor the universe has! And did I mention we're splitting the apartment downstairs with the neighbors below and they, unlike us, aren't waiting a minute to get going on the rebuild? Topping things off I have the worst poison oak of my life and the Netherlands is suffering from drought so severe there's real concern about fires in the tiny Dutch forests.

So it's been a bit of a rough landing, but drought means the weather's very nice and once you clear out the clutter our apartment turns out to be in great shape (and, with the expansion, actually larger than our house in the US). We've got bikes and library cards, and are borrowing a neighbor's wifi--KPN can't get around to turning ours on for a full fortnight, please don't get me started. I expect we'll have our residence cards next week and, immediately thereafter, new mobile numbers. We're legal to work and to live and tomorrow we go to the garden house to immerse ourselves in friendship and the Nieuwe Meer. In short, we're doing great and are happy to be here.