$120 billion?

Today, the U.S. Senate vote was 80-14; the House vote was 280-142. So, overwhelmingly, my government has voted to continue funding the awful war. This, from the world's superpower, whose citizens are plagued by crime, rampant drug use and selling, inadequate healthcare, homeless in every city, health insurance so expensive that anyone not an employee of a large concern cannot possibly afford healthcare insurance, insoluble racial strife . . . . And there is a lot more. I am not just embarrassed to be an American. I am horrified.

Match.com (briefly)

Good morning, all,

Don't worry: no "outing" is about to occur. I was just amused, looking again at some "profiles" and seeing the best-ever sentence (of many, *many* weird ones):

"I was born at an early age."

This line comes from a former veteran London Times correspondent!

I've been far more active (read: have actually met a few men) in match.com here than in Washington. Starting last December, I met one Scot here in Leiden, but shortly thereafter, all of the Dutch match.com candidates disappeared, so I figured that there had to have been a discount for the holiday season. Who knows? Ian, the Scot, has remained a friend. We check in every couple of months, having coffee and comparing life notes. His American friend is moving here, so that's a happy story. He agreed, though, that it's rough out there. He said that lots of women only want what women think that men want. I can report that we all want companionship and fun.

And match.com is good for one's telecommunication skills! I've had lengthy conversations on "Skype" (coupled with a web camera, no less), learned to "text message" on my mobile phone, and recently learned how to "MSN Messenger", including firing off photos (which is FUN). I do realize that most people under the age of 40 knew all of this some time ago, but it's been a lot of fun learning it myself. And aside from a mere 19 Euros paid for the web cam, it's all been free, too.

My search focus has changed, from photos to the profile content. Of course, photos are the first step, but I move quickly to spelling, content and humor. The vast majority, sad to say, lack all of these three essentials. I used to eliminate profiles with even minor spelling issues. However, that makes for a tiny pool (many people seem to be nearly illiterate), so am now far more tolerant. There do seem to be some near-universal truths, though. Many gentleman profess to be at least 5'11", when in fact the truth is considerably south of that (I've become much better at sleuthing the truth from photos). Most men do admit it if they're rabid football (soccer) fans. It's the "Formula 1" fans that affect my mouse fingers. There's a field for income, which many people actually provide! If the figures are true, many people are getting by on hardly any money.

Unfortunately, another near-universal aspect is that most men don't even bother to send a "No, thanks" in response to various levels of approach (electronic "winks", e-mail). I've learned a few key things:

Don't take it personally,

Keep at it,

Be nice,

Keep at it, and

He's out there, somewhere!

Bits and pieces, on this lazy Sunday

Light: If anyone out there still thinks that Holland has awful weather, let me assure you to the contrary. I'm ensconced upstairs in my study, sun pouring through the floor-to-ceiling southern window, feeling slightly embarrassed not to be doing something vigorous outside, as most here seem to do. And it's been this lovely since the end of March. It's fully light until after 10pm, too, and has been for over a month. The light is so strong, but slightly gauzy. Light here is very different from England and certainly from the east coast of the States, where I lived. Dutch light is very clear, but soft. One sees it in the paintings, but also as I look out my window. I find it transfixingly beautiful and never get used to how lovely it is. It's easy to lose all track of what time it is, as well. I often find myself thinking it's maybe around 6pm, when it's pushing 9pm or later.

Life's rhythm: school is almost over (last class is tomorrow), and I find myself missing my classmates and the classes themselves. A real bond develops (maybe the agony of trying to get through the courses) with classmates and the professors themselves, and by the end of term, I felt finally ready to begin some of the classes, as odd as that sounds. A few of us have become real friends, and I will miss their contact over the summer break (my Russian friend, "Jenia", my Estonian friend, "Monika", who spends most of her time in a Master's program in recorder performance at the conservatory in The Hague, two Polish pals, "Paulina" and "Marta" and two Spanish friends, "Silvia" and "Marta"). I miss one Chinese friend "Selano", who left after the first term to focus on business courses in Utrecht, where she lives. I've learned from all of them, and, I hope, they from me. I'm the only American (actually, the only native English speaker) in the B-group and in the second-year courses, as well. There are three in the A-group, but I don't think they're continuing past the first year. They're good kids, but unsophisticated and have no ear for the language. The Europeans do far better, all speaking at least their own languages plus English, which is required.

School has been so intense. I don't have a non-school rhythm or even an idea yet for the summer, other than vague plans to see art in Brugge and Gent and travel around Holland. I think we all feel fairly depleted, in general. While I put up a hammock in the rear garden, I don't yet feel quite that lazy! There are about six exams to prepare for before the summer break sets in, so today is a blissfully lazy pause between the academic treadmills.

Life outside Holland: It was very gratifying this week, to see the news on Wolfowitz's announced departure from the World Bank presidency. Not that I know anything of him, but do have a close friend at the Bank, and in general, try to hold out hope for the developing world. Having an arrogantly nepotistic head of the Bank was so embarrassing, given the debilitating corruption of so many developing countries.

I made a trip to Scotland in April, for the first time since 1969, and can report that it is a marvelous place. I travelled around quite a bit, from Edinburgh across the Firth of Forth (into the Kingdom of Fife!), up the coast through Dundee slightly inland, to Glamis castle (home of the Queen Mother and where Princess Margaret was born), around the St. Andrews exquisite coast, through many fishing villages, a quantity of which are also home to painters. I also drove (a friend did the driving) due west, to Oban, on the Firth of Lorn, and then via a tiny "ferry" (which held about 5 people, one dog and definitely, no cars) to the tiny island of Easdale, whose claim to fame is that it "roofed the world", having large slate deposits. The slate industry stopped quite a while ago, the quarries filling up with sea water, but Easdale is still actively inhabited. It's made up of about 75 people living in whitewashed "cottages", low stone buildings. Belongings are moved from the "ferry" to homes via wheelbarrows, which are numbered, to correspond to the houses (there are no streets; each house is numbered). About 40 people live there year-round. There's a pub with a good restaurant, a folk life museum, and a community center. Some people run businesses from their homes via the 'net. ALL supplies and goods come via the ferry from Oban. I met a few residents, who were delightful and showed no signs of isolation. It would be an ideal place from which to write a novel, have a love affair or a number of other pleasant things. Despite the unrelenting wind and dark day, I loved it. The landscape, driving to and from Oban, along magnificent lochs, mountains, glens, innumerable sheep (and Highland cows ["coos"], which are mammoth, shaggy and have orange-brown long hair) and lovely, tiny villages, swept me off my feet. I'd only been before to Edinburgh, which while lovely and full of thrilling sites, is a big city. The countryside is the stuff of heroes. There are castles every few miles, and one realizes that it has always been a massively fortified country. Even knowing scarcely any of Scotland's history, one sees the defense with one's own eyes. I realized that I'd love to live there, which shocked me. The people were wonderful, I could have fresh salmon every day, the language is beautiful to the ear, and it would be very healthy. How to make a living might be a challenge, and learning how to pronounce Scots would be a major effort, but also fun. Being a life-long Anglophile, Scotland took me mightily by surprise. I can't wait to return. I've always wanted to learn Scottish and/or Irish country dancing, too, so that's also a lure. And I've finally had the answer to most people's question about kilts: no, they don't wear anything underneath! I still find this hard to believe, given the climate, but Scots are hardy!

Tra-la, it's May!

I've been busy! April and May here (school-wise) are very intense. The thrust for first-year students, second semester, is all about writing, in correct academic Dutch. I think I can speak for all of us (our tight little B-group [those first-year students with some background in Dutch] has shrunk dramatically, from about 11 to about 4! I think that it's now two Poles, one Russian (my stunningly bright young Russian friend, "Jenia") and me) in saying that the shock from first to second semester was enormous. We lost all of the Chinese (4), the Iranian, a Czech, and a few others (most of them went back to the "A" group [those with no previous Dutch background] and a couple droppped out completely). We've been overwhelmed. Going from basic grammar and vocabulary to being expected to expound on "language change" in perfect scholarly Dutch writing of at least 750 words and in one paper, to 1,500 words, has been nearly impossible. We've stumbled along. One only learns by being forced, right? And by making countless mistakes. Very quickly, one's ego either is shattered, calms down, or toughens up. A few shattered, sadly. The rest of us have become very humble! Of small comfort (in my current grammar class) was hearing from second-year students (and one third-year) that *everybody's* paper comes back covered in red ink, always! Nobody ever gets a 10 (top grade). I've become thrilled when I infrequently get an 8 on something. One is grateful to pass, which I never thought I'd feel, but I do. When we occasionally step back and look at what we've done, we realize how far we've come, but also how far it is to what's expected of us. It's been very humbling.

What else? April weather was warm and sunny, for 42 days (some May, too). The grass turned blond and people got tans (not I, of course). Now, it's back to normal spring here: crisp, breezy and near-daily rain (often at night, fortunately).

Summer plans? I first thought of getting a summer job, maybe in shipping law in Rotterdam. However, I haven't had a summer break since the late '60s and decided I could use one. I hope to do a little travelling around Holland, and to Belgium, and otherwise be lazy. Exams go on here until late June, and I'll have a paper due in late August, so it won't be a terribly long break.

One does feel a bit cloistered, being in full-time school. Cloistered not in the sense of being shut off from the world, but in not having any time (much less energy) to explore what's around us. All of my classmates are in their mid-20s, and they feel the same, so it's not just my age. Leiden is a beautiful, calm, safe place to live. I could not have a lovelier environment, but haven't felt that I've had the time to explore it properly. The energy expended studying daily in a foreign language is enormous, and one doesn't realize it until stepping back and realizing how tired we all are, all the time.

I've heard a few concerts, but culturally, have focused more on seeing as much art as possible, and have not been disappointed. My "Culture and Society" class, which makes excursions every other week to different cities (and focuses on different topics), was this week in The Hague, and ended at the superb Mauritshuis museum, a wonderful former elegant home (quite a while ago -- probably in the 17th century), next door to the Dutch "Ridder Zaal", part of the parliament buildings complex. My art history teacher led our way through the Mauritshuis (which I'd already visited twice, but no matter; it's a treasure house) and gave exceptional talks on a few pictures. Things had been rearranged since my last visit and now, nearly all of the Rembrandts are in two rooms. There's one self-portrait that I hadn't seen, of him at age 26, that's very remarkable, even for him. He looks straight out at one (this was quite unusual; people usually were painted at 3/4 view, or looking to one side), and his skin is so uncannily painted that one even notices a faint "5 o-clock shadow". I didn't see it at first, but was so mesmerized by the painting that I finally saw it. Nearly adjacent to this self-portrait is another one, of him in his 60s, that's unmercifully accurate and shows every blemish and wart.

As we flew through rooms, I asked my art history teacher whether anything were insured, and she just laughed. One realizes, after seeing priceless picture after picture, that insurance costs would close the museum within an hour. The security, though, must be very intense. There *are* guards in most rooms, but one knife could do such awful harm. While coats and backpacks are required to be checked, damage could still be done. Only a few pictures seemed to be glass-covered. There must be laser security or other invisible means of securing things. At one point, I foolishly pointed my finger at a figure (lady who'd fallen on the ice, revealed not to be wearing undergarments!) in a Havercamp winter scene picture and my teacher was very animated, saying that I could set off an alarm. I adore the Mauritshuis. For my purposes, it's preferable to the Amsterdam Rijksmuseum, since it's much smaller and more focused on the "Dutch masters" and usually, not crowded. However, the Rijksmuseum has amazing Rembrandts and Vermeers. The Mauritshuis has Vermeer's lovely "View of Delft" and "Girl with a Pearl Earring", though. For me, the Mauritshuis alone warrants a trip to this country.

Any other highlights? I passed my art history exam (in two parts), which was a huge relief. The reading material on it was nearly 500 pages, and the lectures very compelling. I finally learned how to boil down the essential bits, but gained a huge respect for friends who got their Ph.D.s in art history in the late '60s, before computers, putting information on 3x5 cards. Dutch art history alone encompasses a vast amount of information. We covered the highlights, from 1400 through Mondriaan (1950s). There were for me a few new delights and surprises. The new delight mainly was the "Flemish Primitives" school, dating from about 1390 through about 1500. This includes Jan van Eyck, Geertje tot Sint Jans and Rogier van de Weyden, principally. The name is misleading, since these painters were anything *but* primitive. The colors are extraordinary and the craft superb. The "disguised symbolism" is fascinating, too, and if one knows the references, the pictures tell fascinating stories. The surprises were learning of periods in the lives of van Gogh and Mondriaan that I didn't know. Early Mondriaan is quite lovely and not at all abstract. I had forgotten what a huge role religion played in van Gogh's life, too. If I had a better ability to remember dates and a lot else, I would take other courses in Dutch painting.

One trip I plan to make is to Ghent, to see van Eyck's famous altar piece, and other art. To see these things "in situ" is an enormous treat. Post cards and prints in books are a completely different experience from staring at the art itself. While the National Gallery in Washington has a vast and superb collection, it is always a thrill here to see things I've only seen in books. To see Rembrandt and Vermeer, particularly, is a thrill I cannot describe.

And now, to post this! Google runs this blog and had changed its format and other things, so I postponed blogging until I had the time to deal with the new stuff.

Happy spring, everyone!