Submerged!

30 August: Container truck from Belgium (French-speaking, of course; my French evaporated) arrived within 30 minutes of kitties arriving. I unpacked boxes (mostly china and glass) furiously for two days. Kitties were thrilled to arrive and particularly enjoy paper-thin upstairs carpet, which gives them traction for their races. They voice growling disapproval of the myriad dogs being walked under their noses (a neighbor has at least four dogs and lodges lots of extras), having no idea what dogs are, other than a different species. I consider showing them the great outdoors (tiny ivied rear garden), but think better of it, for the time being.

Somewhere in this time: My bank account opened! Since my major U.S. check is spending at least two weeks clearing itself (I was told that it could take five weeks to clear. HUH, I said politely?), I daily withdraw cash from my U.S. checking account to bolster the Dutch account. However, it was a thrill to pay the aging utility bills, at last. While I was given no receipt for the very large U.S. check when I deposited it, about a WEEK later, I was sent a notice that the check indeed was being processed. I am underwhelmed with my bank and will consider moving to another, once the money settles.

4 September: School orientation and placement testing.
Balance of week: more of same (unpacking and testing).

11 September: I began classes, at last. Course syllabus included everything BUT books, which were listed (not always by course) in guide to department. Spent each day ferrying by bike back and forth from university to bookstores. Ordered two books. Still fairly unclear as to which books correspond to courses, but instructors seem unworried.

15 September: I managed to enroll in at least three courses (balance don't seem to be listed) electronically, and printed nearly a ream of art history text (real fear has set in, about the idea of actually remembering more than 20 pages of this). This university makes superb use of the Internet and electronic media, using the electronic "Blackboard" to convey assignments, text print-outs, announcements from teacher to students, enrollment for exams and a lot more. One is required to use the Blackboard, so learns the medium. Granted, that I haven't been an active student since 1982, but I'm still impressed. They really are very creative here.

My classmates are from everywhere. I've quickly become pals with the Russian, one Spaniard, the Iranian, the Estonian and the Czech. The Russian is very exceptional, doing two full-time programs simultaneously, ours and the most ancient languages (those on tablets). My being their parents' ages doesn't seem to make the slightest impact, and they seem more interested in my being American, which I've already publicly acknowledged is only an accident of birth. There are four Chinese, and they seem to have the toughest road. English is everyone's second language, so I have the advantage of working through only one language to Dutch.

It's late, so I'll leave my long silence at this, for now.

Whoops: mustard soup is fabulous. It's made from the Pommery-style mustard, with seeds and bits of bacon. I plan to learn how to make it, but currently buy it in a sort of plastic big tube.

And "Frites Oorlog" cannot be left out: I succomb only occasionally (about once a week) to an old weakness, for fresh French fries. Here, most people order them (at a corner sort of frying shop) with what passes for mayonnaise. I'm sure to offend someone, but this is the most revolting, glutonous glob of tasteless, calorie-laden, heart-stopping yellowish muck that could possibly be consumed. It's inhaled here and in Belgium, but not by me. One can order one's fries with about 7 accompaniments, but what caught my eye recently was "Oorlog'', which means "war''. I asked for an explanation. ''Well," he said, "After the war in Iraq started, we felt that we should do something, so created this 'dish'. " It consists of a mix of peanut sauce, a sort of barbeque sauce, minced onions and "mayonnaise''. Other than the glop, it was pretty tasty. It makes me think of Chicken Kiev, or Peche Melba, except for that glop. Still, I was touched by the thought of the Iraqi war being used to some positive idea.

And while I've already promoted "Tasty Toms'' tomatoes, I'll do it again. They are superb. I eat them for snacks. I sniff them for their fragrance. They are cheap. They are wonderful. Just the thought of them wipes out most memories of those tasteless, pithy things that are still sold under the name of tomato in some stores in the U.S., at some times.

Okay: it's 10:30, and I've missed cocktails. Happy weekend, all.