Sinterklaas

Last week when we rode to Den Haag there were dozens of people roaming around town in festive clothing and black face paint (as shown with Helga). This past week in Delft lots of shops started putting up their Christmas decorations that included lots of black dolls (as shown on the drum with Meita and Nuttakan). Last night at the IHE party I found out what this is all about, because while we were eating typical Dutch food and having a few beers, Sinterklaas decided to visit (hopefully those pictures will be provided soon by Carlos).

Sinterklaas (aka Sint Nicolaas) is the Dutch equivalent to the American Santa Claus (duh), but in Holland he comes by boat from Spain (though originally a Turk, so his hat is like that of an eastern orthodox bishop). He arrives mid-November with his assistants, Zwarte Piet (Black Pete, as shown in the pictures) who hands out candy. Sometimes they throw the candy, which actually hurts when it hits you in the face. Apparently painting one's face black for this occasion is not racist, for Pete was the devil and was the servant of St. Nic. I think. Regardless, I don't think that it would be PC in the US. Between the arrival of Sinterklaas and the exchange gifts on December 5^th, children put their shoes near the fire and wait for them to be filled with candies.

On the whole, it probably doesn’t seem too different from American traditions, but I have not explained it well. Wikipedia does a good job, but the best explanation of the concept that I have found was on This American Life. A few years back David Sedaris performed a piece called “Six to Eight Black Men” (in episode 201 from 2001 archive called "Them" dated 12/07/06, for the text click here). Seriously, read or listen this piece, you’ll be falling of your chair laughing.

Happy Thanksgiving

It has been quite a while since I've had a "traditional American" Thanksgiving. I regret the fact that it has been about five years since I have attended the annual feast at the Mehlmans’. I think it has been long enough to actually establish my own tradition: spending Thanksgiving abroad. Unfortunately I do not have any Americans to celebrate it with this year (Em is so close in Germany but I didn't want to miss any classes), so I dined on the only American thing I am able to make without and over, macaroni and cheese.

At lunch I did ask the chef for turkey, but he didn't have any so he made me a nice tilapia in lemon coriander sauce instead (quite good, very zesty). I've been quite impressed with the food that is served at school, since Dutch cuisine is a bit bland and the food service is run by Sodexho. The chef, a Dutchman, is really friendly and makes excellent lasagna since he has an Italian mother in law. Today I found out that he had spent five years living in Cape Town, illegally, until he got deported. Apparently the South Africans are expedient, they put him on a plane home the same day. Anyway, my day was relaxing nonetheless, only one class, a trip to the market, and I finally found the local swimming pool (the steam room is mentholated). I hope that everyone has a pleasant Thanksgiving and enjoys their day off.

Sunset from my window (or A Room With a View)

String Theory

I'm taking a break from doing laundry. For one load it has taken me four hours, so far. I am having such problems with the laundry system here that I am seriously thinking about sending it all out.

First, a brief history. Today was my third time attempting laundry here at school. I'm in a dormitory of almost 200 people and there are (apparently) eight washing machines located sporadically throughout the building. They are coin operated, but do not take euros, only tokens that are worth one euro each. These are about the size of a quarter and have a hole in the middle (like the yen). In the first instance, the machine had a sharp edge and tore small holes in some of my delicate clothing (plus the light in the room didn't work, so I occasionally scratched my hand on the broken door retrieving the wash). Two weeks later I managed to complete a wash without any tears, but the spin cycle never happened so my clothing was soaking wet. And the drier didn't work, so I wasted 2 euros on that and still had to wring my clothing manually.

Which brings us to today. So, at about 6PM as I rode back from The Hague with Meita (Indonesia), Helga (Honduras), and Nuttakan (Thailand), I mentioned that I would be doing some laundry tonight. Someone asked if I knew about the string trick. Basically you tie some thread or floss through the token, put it in the coin slot, then pull it out once the switch is activated. Apparently you need to have the string a certain length for it to work. So we decide to test it. The laundry room that we went to is on the 8th floor and everyone swears it's the best. I load my clothes into the machine, shut the door, then put the coin in. It gets stuck (don't double the floss, just use a single strand). So we put another token on a string and attempt to dislodge the first one. The washer starts making noise like it is on, but it isn't filling with water. We attempt to stop it but the door won't open. My clothes are locked in.

After about 10 minutes of fiddling with the machine a minor miracle occurs. The second token is spit out and the machine door opens, freeing my clothing. But we decide to shut the door and try again. By now there are about six of us attempting to manipulate the machine and we have a butcher's knife. After another 10 minutes we have not freed the lost token, but have managed to put another token on a string in the machine and start it again, but this time with water. Then we give up. Getting free laundry isn't worth this much hassle.

I wish the story was over. An hour to wash, then to the drier. My clothes seem fine. The string trick doesn't work either, even though over half the people present had gotten it to work on both that washer and drier. So I pay. An hour and a half later I retrieve my clothes from the drier. They somehow managed to become even wetter than they were when I put them in. But now they are hot too. The room is like a sauna. I cannot continue to use the drier without putting in another token (I’m out). So I lug my wash back to my room to dry on the rack. And the lack of drier sheets and no place for fabric softener make the hanging a chore because I need to turn the heat on and open the windows or end up with stiff scratchy clothes. Plus, I still need to wash my sheets and towels and lab coat. I think that will wait until tomorrow when I get a second opinion about the laundry situation here. I am both entertained and perturbed about how complex the laundry situation is here.

At least my classes aren't as difficult.

Hup Holland!

Last Wednesday I went to my first soccer, I mean football, match in Amsterdam. It was a friendly between The Netherlands and England. I did have to leave class about five minutes early (a tour of the TU-Delft library, but I went back for another tour because I needed to return for my new library card, I was the only one in the class that was not in "the system", basically they forgot about me, but that was resolved). Anyway, it's really convenient that the Amsterdam ArenA is just over an hour away by train. So about a dozen of us went, there were a few Columbians, some guys from Ecuador, the Spanish girls, among others. I went with people from cultures that actually know and care about football. So it was nice.

Unfortunately, the game wasn't very exciting. It was a friendly, and both teams seemed uninspired. But the Dutch fans were really fun and colorful. I still have not figured out what the word "Hup"means, but it's on all the banners and scarves and sounds appropriately Dutch. The English supporters were segregated from the rest of us and extra police were on duty, though I'm not sure if it was for our protection or theirs.

The game ended in a 1-1 draw and there were no penalty kicks. I love the conciseness of a football match. Start at 8PM finish before 10PM. So, what do a dozen grad students do afterwards (the ones who don't have to meet their advisors in the morning)? Go to the Red Light District for a drink of course. We didn't actually have drinks there, we just walked around and looked at the windows. We found another place for a drink that was closer to the train station, because after midnight the trains only run once an hour. In bed by 3:30AM. In class at 8:45AM.

The Great Tanzanian Palm Pilot Crash of September 2003, Revisited

My Palm Pilot crashed. Again. Arrrgh. I don't know if it actually crashed, it just won't turn on even though it's been charging for a full day (I know the outlet works). During the Great Tanzanian Palm Pilot Crash of September 2003 it reset itself to January 1st, 1900, so I knew I was screwed immediately. So I'm not freaking out just yet, but I can feel the panic rising. The worst case scenario is that I have lost everyone’s contact information, passwords, to do lists, etc. Not fatal, but frustrating. I think I may have a backup, but I'm not sure. I'll look into that right now. It will make for an interesting Saturday night. I was planning on staying in anyway, since I'm still recovering from the last night’s party (not really, but I think it is in my best interest to only go out one weekend night and study during the other). It was nice to be at a party where I knew more than just a few people. It was mostly Latin Americans, typical of the previous parties that I have attended here. I suppose the continent has less of a language barrier, plus they like to drink and dance. There was lots salsa and meringue (the dance, not to be confused with meringue the dessert, though pronounced differently their spelled the same, I blame the French) until 4AM, though I left around 2:30AM. I need to ask Maria (Spain) to send me the photos she took.

The Library

Today I went to the library at TU-Delft, the other university (we also use their sports facilities). I actually spent more time on the library that in it (we spent about 5 minutes inside, there aren't that many books there, not quite like the stacks). The building has a green roof. Not a garden, but a sodded roof. At first I just thought it was a hill. The steepest part has about a 20% grade so you can just climb on up (there are hand rails so you don't fall off). Unfortunately, this is the best photo I took, since it was at about 5PM and getting dark.

Jaime (Bolivia) and I had planned on climbing (356 steps) to the top of Nieuwe Kerk (New Church, even though it's over 500 years old), but it had already closed at 4PM (winter schedule). So we wandered around the market (every Thursday in the main square), then went for a bike ride and ended up at the library. I'm supposed to visit again with class for orientation next week. I hope I get a better picture.

Work in progress

I forgot to say earlier that I will be adding some photos and maps and (hopefully) interesting stuff once I figure out how. Well, I know how, I just need to edit the photos, create the maps, and convince myself that other people find The Economist interesting.

Where to start...

Since I have decided that emailing my adventures is no longer the most modern thing to do (it takes a while for me to adapt to trends), I figured I would try blogging instead.

To summarize, I quit my job at the end of September, then had a holiday in Berlin and Spain. I have been living in Delft, The Netherlands for the past three weeks. I began my classes at UNESCO-IHE (formerly IHE-Delft) two and a half weeks ago. I should complete my MSc in Water Supply Engineering in May 2008.

Enough of the formalities. Yesterday I was repeatedly questioned by classmates, professors, and staff about whether I had voted. Unfortunately, I did not. I left the US too soon and I arrived here to late to be able to cast an absentee ballot. I hope that everybody at home did vote (as my sister said in her teacher voice, "it's a right, not a duty"). There are elections here in two weeks and the locals are beginning to voice their opinions. But I don't really know what the situation is because I have not had access to my precious Economist.

But I don't want to write about politics. I'll leave that to the professionals.