Cultural differences, SNOW, WINTER, gezelligheid, the election

Golly,

It's late November and I last wrote in late August. It's not for lack of thinking about things to write. Some of it is the lack of personal time, since M-F I leave home at 8 and arrive back at 7 (now, both in the darkness). Part of it is life events and stress (*another* new job as of 1 November; my mother's death). And part is sheer laziness and lack of discipline. Oh, well. Some of you have had e-mail from me, but for you others, I do apologize.

So, it's actually snowing here today -- all day, really, but came down in earnest from about 2pm. And it became cold only yesterday, although all last week was windy. It certainly bodes for a cold winter. Since we haven't had winter since I arrived in 2006, this comes as a bit of a surprise. However, since the weather here is usually rotten at some point in the day (including summer), the Dutch are outside, walking or biking, as soon as the sun is up (which is nearly 9am these days; before that it's sort of like eclipse light). People already are talking about the "elfstedentocht" being possible if it stays cold. This is a speed-skating race through 11 cities (very small) in Friesland, in the north of Holland, which while it is Dutch-speaking, the native language is Frisian, which is completely different from Dutch. I watched a film not long ago which was in Frisian with Dutch subtitles, and it was fascinating: I could follow along for a bit, and suddenly a word would be completely foreign, as would the sound, so it's not like Flemish Dutch (spoken in the Flemish part of Belgium), which is definitely Dutch, but a purer, older version of it. Frisian is its own language and apparently has more connection to Danish than to Dutch.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elfstedentocht
and
http://www.thehollandring.com/11stedentocht.shtml

I've got all the lights on, the heat actually turned on (the price of heat here, combined with its being nearly impossible to put at a reasonable [not roasting] temperature, means that I only have it on an hour before bedtime; the house retains it pretty well), a tiny fire in the tiny fireplace (the size of a double shoe box), candles going, a lovely mug of tea (anise-flavored), and it's snowing outside. It's 5:30, there's soup for dinner, I've got a few documents to edit, a new DVD ready, so feel pretty content. And last but not least, adding to the ultimate "gezelligheid" (snug and cosy are the closest meanings; add utter contentment and comfort and you have an idea; it's a lovely word), "Alice", the mother of my feline duo, is curled into a black lump on the chair next to me.

Riding one's bike in a snow storm is a challenge, though: my glasses frost up quickly and you literally cannot see much, so good that it's Sunday afternoon and most people are cuddled up at home.

Work and thinking about it take up most of my time. From November 1st, I've been full-time in the educational arm of a large group within ING Bank. Eleven of us run this group: we plan curriculum for bank employees (with trainers mostly from the UK), design the web site, enroll participants, book hotels for the courses, and all the administrative things involved. The work is far more my thing than what I originally entered the bank to do. I suppose that I will forever *not* fit into the mental mold here, of concensus thinking. I'm independent and bott0m-line oriented and see vast amounts of time wasted from all the concensus thinking required. I'm *not* a committee or group member by choice, ever!

And the week before her 85th birthday, my mother had her fifth set of strokes (in six years) and never regained consciousness (a great blessing), dieing on her birthday. Since she was someone whose bag was packed a week before departing on any trip, I was not terribly surprised, although the shock of her no longer being in my life has not left me yet. I find myself talking to her out loud. We didn't have any outstanding issues, and she was thrilled that I moved here, but I'm understanding in a very personal way what it means when a such a primal loved one really is gone. It's different from my dad, who died when I was 24 (I think), and my beloved English stepmother, who died when I was 16, and other loved ones. It goes a lot deeper, since I knew my mother my entire life. Some of the feelings are inspirational: I'm determined not to live with the clutter and overwhelming amount of STUFF that she loved. Stuff doesn't give one hugs. She was wonderfully organised, and I'm trying to be moreso. She was a great planner, and I'm trying to improve there, too. After her first set of strokes, she became much softer emotionally and suddenly realized that what she really wanted was someone to love. And it proved to be too late to recover that chance. I'm determined that this will be different for me. And as much as she did travel, she wanted to do more, and I do, too.

I flew to the tiny town (Erie, near Boulder, north of Denver, Colorado) where she lived (with my younger brother and his live-in girlfriend) the last nine months of her life. Having been the best-organised person I've ever known (until the strokes and incipient dementia), things were chaotic. I closed charge accounts, bank accounts, looked for investment accounts (she'd emptied one, for no good reason), and tried to organise as much as possible in a week. I'm still doing that. My brother had made a herculean effort to keep Mom entertained, comfortable, on her many medicines and physically active. That was a huge job.

Here in Holland, euthanasia is legal. While I don't know if I'll be here when I'm a mess, if I am I definitely will take advantage of the law, since my mother's last six years were so unhappy.

Last but not least, to the election:

1. It's finally, FINALLY over. I thought it never would end.
2. The relief, of no more "Shrub" and no chance of Ms. Palin, is overwhelming.
3. People globally have cast Obama virtually as the savior of the world. I don't envy him in the slightest. Having created the global mess, people everywhere want a quick fix. He is doing exactly what I thought he'd do (when people complained that he lacked experience), which is to surround himself with the best of the best (not that I know of most of them, but I'm assuming). While I hope that he doesn't let Mrs. Clinton upstage him, he seems to have his ego securely developed and she may not annoy him as much as she's annoyed me. I swore her off a year ago, when I read Obama's C.V. and was deeply impressed.
4. It was his being editor of the Harvard Law Review (one is nominated for this job both by one's peers and by one's professors) and then returning to Chicago to work with community things that so impressed me. And then, throughout the election, never responding in kind to the endless disgusting diatribe of the McCain entourage or to Mrs. Clinton. I saw a dignity and perhaps, wisdom, that had been absent from the political stage all of my life. (Being a Washingtonian, I couldn't avoid most of what went on in Washington politically.)
5. I just hope that the Secret Service protects him and his family from all the hate that goes with a black family being in the White House.

The snow has stopped and so shall I. I'm going to Athens for Christmas, to visit my friend (Dr. Betts), who retired there from Lebanon in August. I'm eager to see Athens in cooler temperatures than what I did in about 1997, when it had to be over 100 degrees. Olympic Airways had the best fare (and non-stop). Greek food for a week will be lovely, and I hope to see a lot of sites. And maybe it won't rain!

Until then,
Pamela