Presence

"Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo solemny presented the thimble, saying, 'We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble'; and, when it had finished this short speech, they all cheered."

Before we continue our enthralling story let us dwell on a few things that surround me her. For apart from the new friends I have made and am still making here, and about whom you will hear more later on, you, my readers in the Netherlands and elsewhere, are very much present here as well.

In the first place there are the people who have made this journey possible: my very own parents and my dear aunts T and N. And then of course I should thank some people I am less intimately related to, t.w. the IB-groep and the Erasmus-fund (who are actually all tax payers in bureaucratic disguise) - they are constantly in my thoughts.

More tangible are the many objects surrounding me, offered to me to help me bear the remoteness of my patria/matria, survive on a more practical level in a land where plugs have three poles, or simply not to forget who I am leaving behind.

When I have a look around my room I see:

• my grandmother's trunk which I have been borrowing for four years now and
  that has travelled all the corners of the world with me (well, actually, France);
• a deceptive forgery of a famous Van Gogh-landscape by L;
• postcards from trips to Bruxelles and Liège with my dad, from a trip to the Kunsthal with either Y or A (been there with both of you, haven't I?) and from a strange trip to Groningen with K and J;
• Vertigo on my wall - which I've watched on my own and bought on my own, but I'm absolutely happy with its purchase a few days ago, so I thought I'd just tell you anyway;



• on my bedside table lie a Michelin guide to the South-West and a certain book by a best-selling American about some small island: thank you m and d, and thank you, J, for your dear and cautious note (which would probably be dear to me regardless of the exact content...);
• the first real life mail I received in my brand new (well, actually I share it with some other individuals who's names happen to begin with a G) pigeon hole, featuring the rough South-West
  coast where another ramble tomorrow will take me! (isn't it exciting everything?);
• many, many photos: you keep me happy all day with your smiles and grins and coolness (L!), your hair in the wind and your struggles with citric acid (yes, I took that one with me);
• a very Inspirational candle, being saved for darker ages and until they lift the ban on candles here in our Fabulous Oh How Independent We Are Self-catering Accommodation;

  

• this was a pretty big surprise (don't forget to click the image!): I've never seen any seeds grow so prosperously under my hands: thank you, E and M! (and I must say: they do work);
• an actual University of Cambridge mug, from B's own ventures onto the island;
• this is perhaps what I enjoy most: music!

"Mit meinen Händen grab ich tief
zu finden was ich so vermisst
und als der Mond im schönsten Kleid
hab deinen kalten Mund geküsst (that is actually a Salome-quote)
Ich nehm dich zärtlich in den Arm
doch deine Haut reißt wie Papier
und Teile fallen von dir ab
zum zweitenmal entkommst du mir

Heirate mich

So nehm ich was noch übrig ist
die Nacht ist heiß und wir sind nackt
zum Fluch der Hahn den
Morgen grüßt
ich hab den Kopf ihm abgehackt"

Sorry to be morbid - although I still think the text is really pretty. Perhaps I should rather say

"It might sound silly
for me to think childish thoughts like these
but I'm so tired of acting tough
and I'm gonna do what I please
let's get married
in a big cathedral by a priest
cause if I'm the man that you love the most
you could say I do at least"

Anyway;

• Then there's wine, drop (which I was quite thankful for during my illness this week), hagelslag, pepernoten (saving them for later, of course), stroopwafels (which I have already been feeding people here with), salami, Rinse appelstroop, and much, much more food: so lucky to have been brought by car...;
• Take 5! Yes sirs (i.e. S, Y and F), my parents have bestowed this on me after many enthusiastic tales!;
• a pretty&comfortable&warm&decent hat, thanks to M's persuasive powers;
• books! Dutch books, French books, Latin books, Afghani-books... thank you, lovers and buyers of books;
• day in day out, a mysterious plaque hangs from a cord around my neck. I can still not figure it out completely, but at leats it's there;
• and, lastly, I am surrounded by lots of wise advice about what to do, how to feel, and, most importantly, how not to come back (that is, changed into a Britisher): thank you everyone.

As you can see, my room is rather stuffed. I like it. "It gives me a sense of enooormous well-being". I'm at home.

Now I'm off to bed (after I've done the editing...).

Welterusten.

A last note: while rummaging around in the dictionary I found a very sweet entry:

"Entry Word: sweet
Function: noun
Text: 1) a food having a high sugar content Synonyms confection, sweetmeat Related Words confectionery; candy, dessert, pastry
2) a person with whom one is in love 'Anna, my darling, my sweet, won't you be mine?'- see SWEETHEART" (and yes, it was in Merriam's).

"Down, down, down"

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next.

In the end I was glad I could finally leave. Parting was beginning to occupy me more than the reason I was parting for - things might have been getting out of proportion. So there it finally was: the big day. There has probably not been a day in my life which I had seen approaching for so long: for the last one and a half year I have been trying to organise an exchange to England. Spontaan is anders. However, that does not mean everything was well-planned. Many things still had to be arranged at that moment, or in Exeter itself. But I assume you all know the mechanisms of the Deadline... However, the journey went smoothly - with many thanks to papah.

To come back to the citation that introduces this post: have you ever noticed how the first few days in a new place seem to be very long (even if you're having fun), with plenty of opportunity to do many, many things; and to notice many, many peculiarities of your new home; and that, as time goes on, days seem to shrink back to their everyday proportions, i.e. too short to execute even a fraction of the plans you had for it? Of course there is some perfectly sensible explanation for it (for example the same explanation as for the phenomenon that people seem to remember their adolescent years best: because that's when they did everything for the first time... well... of course it's just a theory...), but it does make those first days especially memorable.

But to come back to the subject of this entry: finally we were on our way. We spent a lovely day in our car ("I like driving in my car/It's not quite a Jaguar"). We saw the sun rise over the glorious polders. I think by eight we had already left our country, and a couple of hours later we were surrounded by British vehicles, finding their way back to their safe island (some notes on safety later).

On and on we drove, my father once in a while feeding the car with petrol, me feeding my dad with Stophoest-mints and other sweets, and our car feeding me with The Police. Until my father turned it down.

It was good to be in France again. The airs along the motorway were remarkably clean. It was not so good to leave France, so soon. That was the only moment I regretted having chosen for a studies in the UK (well, there was one other occasion. But more about the topic of "food" later on).

To leave France was simple, practically (not emotionally). Entering England is an entirely different story. Although a member of the European Union (I am referring both to the UK and to ourselves) we had to pass as many as three passport checkpoints. But at least this time we were lucky enough not to have our luggage scrutinised.

We entered the boat - actually, we entered another boat, namely the one before our own (thanks to J's advice). As hardly anyone wants to go to England apparently, and as the car deck was loaded skillfully economically, the deck sloped interestingly to the left. However, I supposed counterweights would be taking care of matters like that, so I didn't worry much longer. We were heading for the VIPlounges and the cocktailbars!