#Five

Tags

china, flies, fly, horror, nail gun, pornography, spider

苍蝇不叮无缝的蛋

Chinese proverb

I am a spider. I kill flies. Something about my feromones makes them swarm to me. But remember: I’m a dangerous solitary creature. No matter how much you think you’ve got me eating out of the palm of your hand, I will always walk alone.

And in China, my fly wasn’t even attractive. Which is strange, really. Since the single-child policy, more boys stay alive than girls. These kids have become adults, and the women don’t need to try hard to get a man; there’s a surpuls of the latter. And still I came across quite a few really cute girls. But the girl I hooked up with, wasn’t .

Her English was good though. I could really communicate with her, and despite the cultural difference, our connection was the beginning of a relationship of another nature than just physical desire. She had standard straight black hair. A face that looked like she was born into a wall – forehead, cheekbones and the tip of her nose were all equally protruded; her face was as flat as the rest. Her nipples were larger than her breasts (especially after certain stimulation). She had no arse to speak of, and two fairly short legs.

And yes, after a week of good conversation we went back to her place and we saw eachother naked. I realised quickly that it was good that I had shaved, otherwise my pubes may very well have twined with her bush like velcro. But as we connected on a different level, or so I thought, I penetrated her anyway and was pleasantly surprised by the amount of moisture. She moaned and did the right things to orgasm just before I did.

The evenings with tea continued, and so did the weekly sex encounters. It wasn’t long before I realised she was dirt poor, so I started paying for her. Rent, a new phone, electricity bills, and often even for food. On the occasions that I brought her a warm meal, she’d reward me with sex in a different orrifice than her vagina. A blowjob, usually, for which she swallowed my cum, but didn’t get close to deepthroat. Anal happened twice, but as it clearly hurt her, I never asked for that again. I thought she was innocent.

But as it turns out, flies don’t circle uncracked eggs. Nearly sex months into our relationship, I accidentally saw her giving money to a Chinese man, my age. He wasn’t her father, surely. Not her brother; we were in China! I had to know more, but I decided not to confront her yet. I took a few days leave from the job I’d taken, gave her some extra money. Why? “No reason, honey, do something nice with it.” And I followed her. This time she took the money to a different man, also not her father’s age. This was getting weird. So I confronted her in my way.

After the next time I gave her money, I bumped into her, to catch her red handed. She had no explanation but tears. So I asked the man, who replied at length in Cantonese – I didn’t catch a word of it.

With pain in my heart, I realised I’d been played. I was her atm – and all the rest was her job. So I decided to call it quits, and show her what a hungry spider does.

I was pissed. Not just at myself for falling for this trick. But also at her for selling me bull shit. So I made her suffer. I bought a nail gun, and stuck her to the table. I superglued and ducktaped her mouth shut before I put more nails in her body, one every minute, until she stopped moving. Then I left the mess for someone else to find. Hopefully the men who no longer got any money from her. If it were them, it would buy me time to flee the country.

I managed. And not until I got to Luang Prabang did I get myself another fly tattoo. And for now, I was done with flies. It would take a few years for me to be available again; and I’ll leave you in suspense to find out if that was a fly…

I’d now really become a spider. No emotional attachment ever again. Solitary life is best. I’d show the world how long I could do without feeding. But when I get hungry: brace yourself. I’m now without remorse. I’m dangerous. Run when you spot my tattoos.

#Two

Tags

ebony, fly, Kenya, murder, pornography, spider, Swahili

Nzi hufuata asali

Swahili proverb

I am a spider, and you are not. You are a fly. I am a solitary creature. If you see me, stay in the crowd. If I talk to you, run, or before you know it, you’re part of the swarm on my shoulder.

Let me tell you about flies.

Having read about the first fly I swatted, you probably understand that not long after I found myself on a plane – off to Africa. The plane had a clear goal, but I didn’t have a particular destination in mind. I had to leave, but didn’t care where to. Next to me, in seat 79E in a KLM-747 (I was on the aisle), was a sweet looking African girl bawling her eyes out.

I offered her a napkin and a conversation. Not because I suddenly cared about someone else, but the sobbing sounds bugged me. Strangling her would have solved that problem too, but getting away with murder on an intercontinental flight – well, I wasn’t experienced enough for that yet. As it turns out, she’d been in my country for two months to meet the on line love of her life. He happened to be married and his wife was into threesomes. She first tried to go along with it, tried to become his favourite, and ended up with the short end of the bargain – sobs on a plane. Next to me.

I gave her a shoulder to cry on. I showed her I understood her pain. By the time we hit the ground of her home country, she fell into my arms like an insatiable love doll.

She showed me the local more or less famous churches, she showed me some colonial buildings, she showed me some ancient and modern tourist traps, but mostly she showed me beds like a fly drawn to honey. Nothing helps you forget an old love like a new fling, so she flung herself at me with a ferocity that surprised me. However, cracks in this horny picture started showing when I started feeling like her pet. She once even said that she believed the only thing necessary to keep a man tied to a woman, was a regular milking; like a cow.

Don’t get me wrong. The sex was amazing. She had a cute face, with a lovely smile. Eyes so dark they were pools to swim in. She kept her hair short, as she hated tending to long frizzy hair. She had fairly large breasts, and – as far as I was experienced – rather wide hips, but that didn’t hamper any orgasms. Not hers, nor mine, and she was into anal. She was my first, doing that with; and boy was that tight! Mind you, this was only the second girl I’d ever been with. It was overwhelming. I was almost starting to think that going at it for hours on end at least six times a week was normal.

No, it wasn’t always hours on end. There were quickies too. I remember a library toilet visit blowjob. I remember her silently orgasming on a sleeper train. I even remember her going commando in a cab, sitting on my lap; you can imagine what happened next.

And then she dropped the L-word; and I knew it was time to swat this fly. It wasn’t easy. I needed to get out clean, and too many people and places had seen us together. So I took her somewhere new. We drove to the north-west for a couple of hours, where I knew there were some interesting nature walks. She always said she’d wanted to go, so I took her there. This area had some steep cliffs, and a plateau on the edge. We walked along the plateau, to the rim. Once alone, close to the edge, she went down and started to unbutton my fly – I guess she thought her cow needed milking. But I am no cow, I am a spider. So instead of letting her blow me dry, I put my knee up, which made her lose her balance.

I don’t even remember her scream. Or the look of surprise on her face. I never saw her body hit the rocks below. I turned around, buttoned up my fly and walked down the path we’d come, free as a raging bull. It wasn’t long before I found a tattoo artist to add a fly to my shoulder way from the spider, and further to the north-west, I caught a plane north; no, not back to my home country, but I had to get out quickly, so I took the first flight out of there.

As you know, I’m a spider. I’m a solitary creature. And the flies on my shoulder are a reminder of the ones I swatted. There’s a whole bunch of them now. Fear me. You may be next.

Beschutting

Wat moet ik?
Wat moet ik nu?
Wat mag ik dan?
Wat wil ik toch?
Wie ben ik wel?

Hoe kan ik zo mezelf zijn?
         Ik voel muziek.
         Ik zie geborgenheid.
         Ik hoor geen repliek.
Hoe doe ik mezelf geen pijn?

Waarom is het zo moeilijk mezelf te zijn?
         Ik proef geen dilettantisme.
         Ik zie slechts verlegenheid.
         Ik ruik naar individualisme.
Waarom is het zo’n zwaar leven met mijn pijn?

Welke weg leidt naar mezelf?
         Ik hoor de liefde niet.
         Ik zie geen genegenheid.
         Ik spreek het verlangen niet.
Welke weg ga ik nu zelf?

Waar kan ik heen en mezelf zijn?
         Ik ruik de excursie.
         Ik zie de vrijheid.
         Ik proef de distantie.
Waar kan ik heen zonder mijn pijn?

Wanneer mag ik vrijelijk mezelf zijn?
         Ik hoor de toekomst.
         Ik zie de tegenwoordigheid.
         Ik voel mijn afkomst.
Wanneer kan ik leven met deze pijn?

Wat moet ik?
Wat moet ik nu?
Wat moet ik straks?
Wat mag ik later?
Ik wil bergen geborgenheid;
en haar.

Lidewij

Tags

angst, lidewij, liefde, schoonheid, verlegenheid

Ik heb het lef niet om je aan te spreken, behalve om een bestelling te doen voor friet speciaal en een sinas. Maar eigenlijk wil ik iets anders zeggen. Iets liefs; iets dat je op een positieve manier raakt. Iets waardoor jij mij ziet staan, en niet een willekeurige andere kant. Want ik heb jou zien staan, en niet gewoon een anonieme frietverkoopster. Er zijn vier collegae van je aanwezig, maar alleen jou zal ik morgen nog herinneren.

Ik durf niet, omdat ik het imago van oude viezerik schuw; omdat je eruit ziet alsof je pas net in Amerika legaal en biertje kunt bestellen, terwijl mij al 20 jaar niet meer om mijn ID gevraagd wordt wanneer ik dat doe. Het interesseert me niet direct of de rest van de wereld mij verkeerd acht om het feit dat ik me aangetrokken voel tot vrouwen van begin twintig; ik maak me alleen maar druk om wat jij van me denkt. Ik wil je met niets dan respect behandelen; je verdient niets dan rechtschapenheid. En wat kan ik als klant tegen je zeggen, waardoor je mij niet gaat zien als een geriaat met een stijve? Want zo is het niet – oprecht niet. Als ik jouw leeftijd had, zou ik niet rusten tot je met me uitging. Nu zal ik slechts berusten.

Ik weet niets van je, behalve waar je werkt. En je naam, als de naam die op je borst gespeld zit klopt. Een borst waar dankzij het unisex poloshirt van je werkgever geen oordeel over te vellen is, maar waar ik niets dan perfectie bij fantaseer; zoals we allemaal het ongeziene met perfectie completeren. Perfectie die wel zichtbaar is in je gezicht, blanker dan de meeste in de zomer, omlijst door een ovaal van prachtig ravenzwart haar. Een gezicht waaruit twee donkere en vriendelijke ogen de wereld in kijken. Een gezicht met een lieflijk neusje en een mond die lief kan kozen, en die de tederste liefkozingen verdient.

In de tijd dat ik nog verliefd werd op romanpersonages, viel ik als een blok voor Thura. Haar heb ik altijd voorgesteld met jouw uiterlijk. Wellicht dat ik mij daarom tot jou voel aangetrokken. Thura, de krachtige burgerdochter in een matriarchale maatschappij een kroonprins waardig. Thura en Christian, zij die het land Thule redden. Ach, Lodewijk, zag je in mij maar een Felix. Lees je graag? Ik wel; het is een verrijkende bezigheid.

Terwijl jouw ranke handen mijn avondeten bij elkaar rapen, wordt je van de sokken gelopen door een collega met haast. Op dat moment zie ik een glimps van een lief karakter. Je vergeeft hem met een glimlach, en krijgt prompt een verontschuldiging terug. Op dat moment overweg ik dit alles op een briefje te schrijven en achter te laten. Jouw naam op de buitenkant zodat je het vindt, lang nadat ik vertrokken ben. Je verdient het om te weten dat je niet ongezien blijft; je bent opgemerkt en gewaardeerd. Dat wil ik je laten weten.

Zonder dat je weet dat het van mij komt, uiteraard. Want ik heb het lef niet om je aan te spreken.

Jesus

Tags

coincidence, fire, jesus, life, religion

Jesus has helped me heat my home.

I heat my home in a rather medieval way – with a wood-fire in a metal container. It’s a rather sophisticated metal container that heats the house more efficiently than just any random box. It even has a window through which you can see the fire consuming the wood. This has made for many a romantic evening, but that’s beside the point.

This morning, I attempted to make a fire. It’s December, which is the cold season where I live, so making a fire is part of my morning routine – complete with getting dressed and making breakfast, and consuming the latter.

For the first time in quite a while, the first attempt failed. The match ignited the newspaper in the stove, but somehow the subsequently lit cardboard box failed to ignite the wood I’d stacked on top of it. So, somewhat annoyed with myself, I tried a second time. I didn’t wait around to see what would happen. Mornings can be busy, you know. I went to do something else, planning to come back in a minute to add wood to the new fire.

A few minutes passed, and I went back to the stove, only to find a dark window – not the fire I expected. The window was so dark that I knew the whole thing to be filled with smoke. I muttered to myself:

“Jesus, still nothing?”

At that moment, something sparked inside and all the smoke went up in flames, before going out of the chimney. And that finally ignited the wood; so I put some more in. I’m now typing this in a comfortable room…

God is everywhere, and Jesus has helped me heat my home. Thank heavens; if I were so inclined, I’d be religious now. Unfortunately for the church, I do believe in coincidence. Do you?

North Dakota Access Pipeline

Deze meme heb ik op Facebook en Twitter geplempt. Ik heb het zelf niet zo op memes, maar deze boodschap vond ik wel belangrijk. Het probleem met memes is dat ze zo suggestief zijn, zonder werkelijk substantieel iets te zeggen. Daarom hier wat achtergrondinformatie.

This post is in Dutch, as I’m trying to explain to the Dutch that the problem around NoDAPL isn’t just an American problem; it’s global.

North Dakota Access PipeLine of #NoDAPL

In het heel kort: anno 2016 vindt de Amerikaanse regering het nog steeds nodig om nieuwe oliepijpleidingen aan te leggen. Daar heb ik sowieso problemen mee, want waarom investeer je nu nog in een doodlopende industrietak? Investeer je geld in de toekomst! Olie is zó twintigste eeuw!

Bron: de Huffington Post

Maar goed, dat doen ze. Vervolgens plannen ze die pijp vlak langs een stad – Bismarck – waar 90% van de bevolking blank is. De mensen in de stad protesteren bij de regering, en vervolgens wordt de leiding gepland dwars door het Sioux territorium. In 1853 is dit territorium aan de Sioux van Standing Rock gegeven als privé bezit. De pijpleiding moet nu over een rivier heen, en dwars door een belangrijk archeologisch gebied. De rivier brengt drinkwater bij de Standing Rock Sioux, en aan miljoenen mensen stroomafwaarts. Nou hoeft dat geen probleem te zijn, als er de afgelopen jaren niet al honderden lekkages zijn geweest in de Dakota’s met andere pijpleidingen. Mensen vertrouwen het niet meer – terecht.
Dus zijn de Standing Rock Sioux gaan protesteren – zonder gehoor te krijgen. Pas toen ze massaal voor de bull-dozers gingen liggen (en staan) kwam er een reactie. Ga maar op Twitter zoeken naar #NoDAPL, en de meest geweldige foto’s van politiegeweld krijg je te zien. Mensen die vreedzaam protesteren tegen een oliepijpleiding over hun eigen in privé bezit land, worden met rubber kogels en groot machtsvertoon weggejaagd.
Het is overigens in de rechtbank bewezen dat het bedrijf dat de pijplijn aanlegt geen vergunning heeft gekregen om op het land van de Standing Rock Sioux te komen. Lees meer hier. Tresspassing heet zoiets in het Engels, en dat mag niet. Laat staan om iets te bouwen op grond waar die je niet bezit.
Uiteindelijke verantwoordelijke voor deze situatie is inderdaad de regering van de Verenigde Staten. Er is ondertussen een gerechtelijk bevel gekomen – zo heb ik begrepen – om opnieuw naar de pijpleiding te kijken. Dit is goed nieuws, maar in Amerika is groot geld nog altijd erg machtig. En als je denkt dat het echt slechts een Amerikaans probleem is, lees dan de meme nog eens – en de rest van deze post.

Wie betaalt, bepaalt

Bron: Common Dreams

De infographic hier links (klik op de tekst van de bron, en je kunt een grotere variant vinden met meer Engelse uitleg) laat zien wie er allemaal geld stopt in de bedrijven die ruim 10 miljard dollar investeren in de aanleg van deze pijpleiding. En hieruit blijkt dat het niet exclusief een Amerikaans probleem is. Natuurlijk, uiteindelijk beslist de Amerikaanse regering dat hij er komt. Natuurlijk ligt de pijpleiding op Amerikaans grondgebied. Maar vergis je niet, er wordt ook Nederlands geld in geïnvesteerd. Ons geld wordt dus gebruikt om historisch belangrijke gronden van de Standing Rock Sioux te verwoesten. Ons geld wordt dus gebruikt om een oliepijpleiding door een rivier te leggen die van levensbelang is voor de Standing Rock Sioux. En wij kunnen aan onze banken het signaal afgeven dat wij van dit gedrag niet gediend zijn: ga weg bij deze twee banken. Laat ze niet langer je geld beheren! Als er massaal klanten weglopen, dan wordt het duidelijk dat wij respectvol om wensen te gaan met mensen – ook al wonen ze aan de andere kant van de planeet. Als er massaal klanten weglopen, dan wordt het duidelijk dat wij niet langer in fossiele brandstoffen willen investeren omdat het niet de energiebron van de toekomst is. Het is een doodlopend spoor. Mensen die na 2000 geboren zijn zullen het meemaken dat de olie op is. Waarom dan nu nog investeren in grote nieuwe pijpleidingen? Dat is toch gewoon dom.
Daarnaast is investeren in fossiele brandstoffen anno 2016 niet meer moreel aanvaardbaar. Het is al lang niet meer controversieel dat het verbranden van fossiele brandstoffen op termijn het leven van de mens op deze planeet onmogelijk maakt. Je kunt het toch niet aan je kinderen en kleinkinderen uitleggen, terwijl ze liggen te sterven door gebrek aan voedsel, (schoon) water en schone lucht, dat je wist dat dit zou gaan gebeuren, en je toch geld hebt gestoken in fossiele brandstoffen? Ga weg bij deze twee banken, en laat ze weten dat wij eisen dat er leven op aarde mogelijk is ná fossiele brandstoffen.

Welke banken dan?

Kijk dan even boven naar de meme. Allereerst: De ING. Deze investeert rechtstreeks $248.353.779 in de Dakota Access – het constructiebedrijf. ING betaalt mee aan deze onmenselijke behandeling met – uiteindelijk – ontmenselijking van de planeet als uitkomst.
Via twitter kan je een reactie van de bank vragen. Dit gaat het makkelijkste via @ING_News. Dan wordt je verwezen naar deze website, waar in principe op staat dat ‘wij ons goed hebben laten informeren, en opnieuw onderzoek laten doen of alles volgens de wet gebeurd. Als dat zo is, gaan wij er vrolijk mee door’. De vraag blijft alleen, naar welke wetgeving kijk je? Naar de Amerikaanse wetgeving, is natuurlijk geen slechte om naar te kijken aangezien het op Amerikaans grondgebied gebeurd. Maar zoals @C_Madijsen stelt, de huidige gang van zaken breekt tal van internationale verdragen, zoals de mensenrechten, UN Indigenous Rights, Treaty rights en het International Climate Agreement!
Dus mijn en uw boodschap aan het ING zou moeten zijn: trek het geld terug! Er wordt wellicht niet illegaal gehandeld volgens de Amerikaanse wetgeving, maar er wordt wel degelijk immoreel gehandeld, en in strijd met verschillende internationale verdragen. Is het geld de goede naam van de bank wel waard?

En dan is er de ABN AMRO. Die pakken het anders aan. Die investeren slechts $45 miljoen in Energy Equity Transfer, een dochter van Energy Transfer, het bedrijf dat de zaken regelt voor Dakota Access. Het gaat dus om heel weinig geld, al zijn er dagen dat ik het niet heb. ABN AMRO reageert ook netjes op Twitter, zonder naar een website te verwijzen.Wanneer ik hen vraag waarom ze in #NoDAPL investeren, dan zeggen zij:
“Dat doen wij niet, wij investeren alleen in Energy Equity Transfer.”
Ik: “Nee, maar ETE (en hun moederbedrijf) regelt wel alles voor Dakota Access.”
Zij: “Wij kijken naar elk bedrijf of zij voldoen aan ons duurzaamheidsbeleid. Als dat niet zo is, dan gaan wij met hen in gesprek.”
Ik: “Zijn jullie nu in gesprek met ETE?”
Zij: “Over die gesprekken gaan wij niks zeggen, dat is bedrijfsgeheim.”
Ik: “Ik vroeg niet wat er gezegd werd. Ik wil weten of het binnen jullie beleid past om zaken te regelen voor Dakota Access.”
Zij: “Wij investeren niet in Dakota Access.”
Ik: “Nee, maar wel in ETE. En die regelen van alles voor Dakota Access.”
Zij: “Wij kijken naar elk bedrijf of zij voldoen aan ons duurzaamheidsbeleid. Als dat niet zo is gaan wij met hen in gesprek.”
Ik: “En is betrokkenheid van ETE bij Dakota Access volgens jullie duurzaamheidsbeleid?”
Zij: “Als er aanleiding is om dit te denken zullen wij stappen ondernemen.”
En toen werd het zo circulair, dat ik er niks meer op kan zeggen. Ik heb betere dingen te doen.
Dus onze oproep aan ABN AMRO zou ook moeten zijn: trek het geld terug! Jullie investeren dan niet direct in Dakota Access, de bedrijven waar jullie mee zaken doen zijn er wel intensief bij betrokken. Doe het niet. Gooi je naam niet te grabbel. En belangrijker nog: zorg dat je je acties uit kunt leggen aan je kleinkinderen. Ook als zij sterven van de honger.

Ik ben al jaren geen klant meer bij ING, en nooit bij ABN AMRO geweest. Als ik dat wel was, zou ik nu per direct mijn rekening(en) stopzetten. En ik roep eenieder met een hart op om dit ook te doen. Laat de Sioux van Standing Rock nu niet stikken. Laat je eigen kinderen en kleinkinderen niet stikken! Investeer in een bank die investeert in de toekomst. Nieuwe technologieën hebben we hard nodig. Die investeringen zijn hard nodig. Boycot ING en ABN!

Ondertussen heb ik nog een website gevonden die hiertegen protesteert: Krapuul!

So screwed!

Tags

election, hillary, president, trump, usa

This is how I feel about the United States of America. I’m happy to be a foreigner so I don’t have the option of going to vote. But by Apollo, like I said after the election of Duterte in the Philippines, it’s a sad day when we find that the best candidates people can find to lead the country are those who are running for president in the USA (and still have a chance of winning).

Disclaimer – I’m no bipartisan

First, I have to admit, I am from one of those countries with many political parties, and having to choose between only two is completely alien to me. It also seems utterly unrealistic to me, because who could possibly think that there are only two ways to run a country? Surely there are many more, so why is there no stronger call in America to pluralize congress? The answer to this question eludes me.

Disclaimer – I’m from public richness

Secondly, I have to admit, I am from one of those countries where there’s quite a bit of public money going around. The effect of this is that we have relatively few really poor people, and also relatively few excessively rich people. Those who can’t fend for themselves due are kept alive by those who can; and it’s the government that organises this. This means fairly high taxes (52% for the top income bracket, 36% for the bottom income bracket, 21% VAT), but we get a well organised country in return for this.
As far as I get it, the USA is at the opposite end of the spectrum compared to The Netherlands: it’s a country of public poverty and individual richness. This baffles me, and it doesn’t compute how anyone who desires the country to be sustainable for the future would want to organise the country this way. Sure, keeping people poor makes them easy to control (poor people are easily scared, and if you scare them in just the right way, they want anything you want them to want). But this is as sustainable as a pre-French-revolution class society, and you’ll miss out on a enormous economic impulse if you give the large poor crowd a little more to spend. Decreasing the income-gap increases not only economic stability, but also lets a country tap into an enormous reserve of intelligent solutions for the problems the world is facing. But hey, for that you’d need education… If the USA (or many other countries by the way) were to increase their education budget (currently $56 billion) to the level of their military budget (currently $371 billion), the generation growing up now would surely be able to bring peace on earth. But that, surely, can’t be the plan.
By contrast, by the way, The Netherlands spends 7.9 billion Euro on it’s military, and 33.8 billion Euro on education; I think this is the way a country can truly help itself.

Disclaimer – I’m from a dwarf

Thirdly, I have to admit, I am from one of those tiny countries the size of Delaware. I therefore have no idea what it would be like to be politically engaged in a giant country like the USA. I have no idea how to provide the right situation for those living in Buford, Wyoming, and in down town Cheyenne at the same time – and then I haven’t talked about San Francisco or Miami. The lives of those people surely differs more than people living in Amsterdam or Saaxumhuizen. It’s a complex game I wouldn’t want to be burdened with, even if I were born in the USA. But there are a few things about government, I truly believe are universal: the government is responsible for security – real security, and not creating a false danger, the government is responsible for economic opportunity for all – and not only for those who already have money (to invest), the government is responsible for a good infrastructure – and not only in the rich neighbourhoods, but in the whole country equally, and the government is responsible for education for all – and the ideal there must be, equality. And in order to facilitate all that, the government should not tell people who can’t work (for whatever reason) to go f*ck themselves, but take care of them – give them some money so that they can eat, live, and educate themselves and their childern to increase their chances on new work. And oh, before I forget, the government should make sure that everyone can get the health-care they need; regardless of income.

More undecided voters!

So, having stated not only what I believe to be important in leading a country, but also that I’m aware that I probably don’t understand what’s going on, I would like to point out a few problems I see with the upcoming election. I realise this is not going to help anyone making a choice between the two lead characters – or perhaps no choice at all. If this posts creates one new undecided voter, my mission is accomplished.

Rich to broke in 8 years

Looking at the past, Mr. Clinton increased the public budget. The United States were relatively rich when he left office. This should in my humble opinion have led to increased spending on social security and education (above I’ve explained why this is good for the country as a whole). But thankfully for the rest of the world, Bush jr. took this budget and donated it to the military and tax-cuts. When he left office, the United States government was broke. I think I remember the government closed down for a few days without pay. Just to make ends meet. Why is this good for the rest of the world? Simply because a broke United States government is much less powerful than a financially viable United States government. Bush jr. – in all his wisdom – helped China rise in power and increase its global influence. He didn’t do so because he wanted to help China; he didn’t sponsor China, I believe. But if you help the most powerful country in the world slide down from the mountaintop, you indirectly help another country move up…
Now, it appears, the United States government is no longer bankrupt. It hasn’t regained much power from China, but you can only feel this when you are in Asia. In Europe, China’s might isn’t too tangible yet, and I’m sure it’s not in America either. However, if you see the changed stance of the Philippines government, you should realise that there’s no coincidence there. China rules Asia, China is gaining power quickly in Africa and even South America. Which in a way is worrisome, but that is something for a whole different blog post.

Moving into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Now, it appears, the United States have two different candidates for president that seem to have any real chance to make it. At this point, I don’t think I need to introduce them; if you don’t know who they are, you have been living under a rock, and your rock will probably stay where it is no matter who moves into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I’ve listened to a lot of things each candidate has said, and I’ve had a look at the candidates’ respective track-record in politics, and at either candidate’s website. I’ve come to the following conclusion:

Hillary

Hillary has a lengthy track-record in favour of unequality, often in favour of the bankers that back her (not really surprising, that one).
She’s said that she should become president because she’s a woman (and while I agree it would be good for equal rights for women, I do find this a bad argument; equally pointless as saying Trump should become president because he’s a man; call me post-feminist, but the gender of the person should be unimportant, and this argument is not in favour of Hillary alone, you might just as well vote Jill Stein).
And lastly, here website is chaotic. You would need a huge working memory to organise everything she wants for the country – topics are not clustered together, so to get a good overview is a heathen’s task (Dutch proverb). But what I did see is that she stands for everyone paying his/her fair share of taxes. She does state quite a few good plans on her website, to do with this extra cash, such as increased spending on education, better infrastructure, equality in health-care. But like I said, I don’t have the memory capacities to keep an overview when I sift through her checker-board website. That surely is my shortcoming.

Trump

Trump on the other hand has no track-record in politics. I’ve come across people who say they will never again vote for a career politician, so vote for Trump. I can’t find anything in favour of this argument (and neither did these people); I mean: you wouldn’t want an inexperienced linguist run a high profile law-firm, now would you? Why would you want someone in charge of a system who has no clue whatsoever how the system works? Especially one as important as your country?
As for what he’s said, I think he’s going to be just as entertaining as Bush jr. I mean, “It’s freezing and snowing in New York, we need global warming” is just as dumb as it gets, isn’t it? Well, already there’s a long list even before the election. Most of the other things he’s said are just emotion. He says what the people think their problems are, and what they fear, and tells them he will solve the problems. But not how. He says his opponents are evil, but not really why. He speaks as charismatically as Hitler did: while you listen it feels like a great speech, but when you read it back and think about his arguments and line of thought, it turns out to be nothing special. Hitler too, was immensely popular at some point. And no, I’m not saying Trump is Hitler (although he wants Muslims to decorate themselves like Hitler demanded the Jews did). Trump is not going to kill anyone, Trump is going to build a wall, and let Mexico pay for it. How he’s planning to get that done is anyone’s guess.
As for his website, it’s nice and tidy and to the point. Categorized in understandable segments. And what I get from it is that he wants tax cuts for everyone, and increased government spending on many – admittedly good – projects such as increased spending on education and child-care. In other words, he’s going to run the government the way he did his bankrupt companies – into the financial ground.

Hillary for Status Quo, Trump for China

So here’s the choice the American voters have to make: Hillary – for the status quo, where the banks are in charge, the bankers are the royalty who can do whatever they please, and the poor people are fucked beyond anything you’d wish on your worst enemy. Trump – for a powerful China (due to a bankrupt government, reasons explained above), where the banks are in charge, the bankers are the royalty who can do whatever they please, and the poor people are fucked beyond anything you’d wish on your worst enemy.

That’s not really a choice is it: unless you’re a top banker, you’re fucked. Unless perhaps you look into the alternatives, but I’ve not looked into them. I can’t vote anyway, so why bother.

Emotion

One last not I want to make… I’m not a very emotional person. I truly believe we should strive to keep emotion out of the government. The government should be run by facts. What do the facts show us, and how should we react to that? How I feel about that should have no place in government.
However, I do understand that rational argument is not going to sway anyone. It’s boring as hell, and emotion is not. So if you feel that I’m boring as can be, then my article is reflecting how I feel about government: it’s factual. Only in the last few paragraphs have I tried to enter some emotion, but it’s not very well done.
I call on all of you: leave emotion at home, for your friends, kids, and especially your spouse. Just let the facts speak for themselves when you decide on who should be president of the USA.

Vrachtwagens, bussen en ligfietsen

I apologize to my non-Dutch reading audience, but this post’s target audience is Dutch drivers (of buses and trucks) and riders (of recumbent bikes).

Bij deze meld ik jullie chauffeurs vriendelijk dat ik mij uitermate bewust ben van het feit dat ligfietsen voor jullie een vreselijke uitvinding zijn: wij ligfietsers (ja, ik rijd er ook één) zijn voor jullie niet te zien. Ik wil jullie dan ook graag deelgenoot maken van mijn houding op de fiets. En niet de fysieke houding, maar mijn houding aangaande gedrag op de weg. Ik schrijf in deze alleen voor mezelf, maar ik roep andere ligfietsers op dit voorbeeld te volgen – voor onze eigen veiligheid, de gemoedsrust van de chauffeurs, en de verkeersveiligheid in het algemeen.

1. De weg is van ons allemaal – we delen de naar gelang we ruimte nodig hebben.
2. Ik ben – vooral van achteren en van opzij – onmogelijk om te zien voor een chauffeur, vooral van bussen en vrachtwagen.
3. Als ik platgereden wordt heeft de chauffeur een trauma, maar ik geen leven meer; ik ben van mening dat ik daarin altijd het kortste eind van de stok heb.

Deze drie overwegingen leiden tot de volgende praktische situatie – wat mij betreft:

Als ik op een (smalle) weg een vrachtauto als tegen- of meeligger heb, rijd ik zo dicht mogelijk op de kant. Ik ga er vanuit dat ik als tegen- of meeligger en wel zichtbaar ben; in dit geval kom ik ten opzichte van de vrachtwagen of bus recht van voren. Door strak langs de kant te rijden, laat ik zo veel mogelijk ruimte voor de ander, en ik hoop dat deze dat ook voor mij doet.

Als ik van achteren op een vrachtwagen (of bus) toe rijd, die om welke reden dan ook langzamer rijdt dan ik, dan ben ik allerminst agressief. Gelukkig zijn de meeste chauffeurs heel duidelijk over wat ze gaan doen. Gaat de wagen stoppen, dan ga ik er voorbij. Gaat de wagen de weg op, dan blijf ik meestal heel bewust in de dode hoek achter de wagen – de chauffeur kan mij zo niet zien, en hoeft dan ook geen rekening met mij te houden. Ik doe mijn best dat hij kan rijden alsof ik niet ook op de weg was. Ik zorg zelf dat er altijd een uitweg is; ik zal mezelf nooit klemrijden tussen de meeligger en een tegenligger.

Als ik van opzij kom, zelfs als ik voorrang heb, dan maak ik pas gebruik van die voorrang wanneer ik oogcontact heb gehad met de chauffeur; alleen dan weet ik dat hij mij gezien heeft, en dat hij mij voorrang gaat verlenen. Lukt het niet de chauffeur te zien, ziet hij mij ook niet, en krijg ik geen voorrang – en maak ik daar ook geen gebruik van. Ditzelfde geldt op rotondes. Eigenlijk heb ik daar voorrang op, maar ik laat chauffeurs bijna altijd voor gaan – behalve als zij al gestopt zijn om mij voor te laten gaan. Als zij al op de rotonde zijn, en ik kom aanfietsen, gebaar ik groots dat zij door mogen rijden (groots, als met grote handgebaren, niet als groothartig – dat laatste is niet aan mij om te beoordelen).

Vanmorgen nog, kwam er een vrachtwagen uit een laad/los parkeerplaats bij een bejaardentehuis van links. Ik wam dus van zijn rechts. Hij had mij niet gezien, en ik had heel boos roepend hem de stuipen op het lijf kunnen jagen om 30 seconden eerder op mijn bestemming te komen – en wettelijk had ik nog gelijk gehad ook. Maar ik zie daar het nut niet van in. Ik zag dat de chauffeur mij niet gezien had – ten eerste zag ik de chauffeur niet door het zijraam, en ten tweede ging hij rijden terwijl ik eraan kwam. Het is mogelijk dat hij mij even in zijn spiegel gezien heeft – dat weet ik niet. Maar vervolgens ging ik midden achter hem rijden. Om niet tegen hem aan te rijden moest ik in de remmen. Dit vind ik een minder groot probleem dan boos worden – of iemand de stuipen op het lijf jagen. Het duurde niet lang of de vrachtwagen had meer gang dan ikzelf, en zonder dat de chauffeur mij verder gezien heeft vervolgden wij beiden onze weg.

Ik krijg als ligfietser wel eens het verwijt dat ik een gevaarlijke fiets heb – ik word niet gezien. Ik antwoord daarop dat ik – met de hierboven beschreven houding – 60.000 kilometer heb gefietst zonder ooit echt in een gevaarlijke situatie te zijn beland (waarvan 40.000 kilometer buiten Nederland). Zichtbaarheid is belangrijk voor mij – mijn verlichting is dan ook overdreven goed. Maar als je je op je ligfiets defensief opstelt, dan word je niet platgereden, ook niet door vrachtwagens die je niet gezien hebben. Het gaat er namelijk vooral om dat ik de vrachtwagens zie – dan kan ik voorkomen dat ze tegen me aan rijden. Altijd.

Words

Tags

art, words

​Lovely…  I just saw a young woman with a hairstyle that seems to have gone out of fashion in the Netherlands: she had a proper pony-tail. One where the hair sprouts out of the back of the head to gracefully bend down like – well – a pony’s tail; leaving a gap between the head and the tail as an excitedly galloping horse.

It made her look cute – or perhaps she was cute no matter her hairstyle, I won’t judge. But it most certainly did not make her look like a horse’s ass.

Philippines

Tags

Duterte, Philippines, politics

First and foremost, I write this against a very personal background, and you should know something about this. I have lived in Asia for a decade, but never in the Philippines. I know a thing or two about corruption, how this operates in ASEAN, and I’ve lived through a rather violent war on drugs¹. I don’t really care about the future of the Philippines – don’t misunderstand me. There are a score of nations who are trying hard to fuck themselves up² so why I’m writing about the Philippines may seem a mystery. Europe disintegrating should have my first priority, being Dutch and all. And it’s true, I have my opinions, but some much more intelligent people than myself (who have my support) are working hard to get my worries heard³. There’s only one reason I worry – and thus blog – about the Philippines: because a good friend of mine cares an awful lot. So here are my thoughts on

Duterte.

Note 1: all the numbered tags are clickable links, but if you’re unsure, you can check the url below.

Note 2: This is a long post, because there are so many inadequacies in the line of thinking of Pinay. I will try to cover most, but for the sake of brevity I may skip some.

Note 3: I haven’t reread this yet – this note will disappear when I do. Any typos will in time be removed.

Let me start – because I’m going to dismantle this – with a made-up conversation floating around the internet. Note that I can not imagine this conversation has actually happened, but you’re right in thinking that it could have.

Joemel Pastor: Here’s a random scenario from abroad.
American talks to his Filipino friend: Hey Felicia. I’m sorry to hear about what’s going on in your country right now. Hope your family is okay.
Pinay: Why what’s wrong?
Kano: Haven’t you read the news? There’s been a lot of killings going on. The elected President is running the country with his reign of terror. They say he is a mass murderer and he is committing genocide.
Pinay: Oh, you mean the killings? Those are legitimate police operations. Those were criminals and drug peddlers killed because they resisted arrest. Wow! Genocide? That’s like killing 6 million in a holocaust. That’s just too much. Don’t believe that. My family has never been better. In fact, this is the happiest they’ve been since the new President took office.
Kano: Really? Why so?
Pinay: Yeah. Because change has come. Just barely two months and he’s done so much. Did you know that we already have 911 emergency response? 600,000 drug addicts and peddlers voluntarily surrendered for rehabilitation. More than 10 mining firms closed down because of illegal operations. They’re making the country self-sufficient in producing rice. Stranded OFWs were rescued in Saudi Arabia. The railway transit is being repaired and is much more efficient now. The President goes after the drug lords and corrupt politicians. The government is engaging with peace talks with the rebels. They’re hunting down the terrorist group down south. Crime has gone down 49%. It’s so much safer to walk the streets now.
Kano: Wow! For real? I haven’t read those in the news.
Pinay: Yes. Because media outlets here only report the negative ones. Most media corporations in the Philippines are owned by oligarchs. That’s why they try to bring down the President because they are scared of him.
Kano: Thanks for telling me this. No wonder Filipinos always have good things to say about your new President.
Pinay: That’s right. For the first time in my life, I’ve seen a President that we can really trust. He has the approval of 91% of the Filipinos. Oh, and by the way. Don’t believe that it’s chaotic in the Philippines. We will be hosting the next Miss Universe and you can go and visit.
Kano: That would be lovely!
================
The point is. No matter how they destroy Duterte in the international community, there will always be a Filipino who will defend him and tell the truth.

Let me continue in saying that I very much understand that the situation in the Philippines is – was – quite desperate before Duterte came in office. Corruption and crime are indeed crippling things, and it’s shocking how quickly this develops in the rich west once an economic crisis hits. It’s easy to be morally sound when your own livelihood isn’t threatened. I also fully understand that Pinay -allow me to be naïve and think that this is a person’s name and not a nationality – is in total adoration of Duterte, because for the first time ever, some politician is delivering promises. This has never happened before in the Philippines, and Pinay is thinking ‘hang on, this is cool – someone is actually doing something that isn’t only for himself and his cronies’. This is indeed a cool new thing in the whole of ASEAN (Singapore may be an exception, and Malaysia is second on that list; Thailand is in this sense a few steps ahead of the Philippines, and are in a stage what happens when this cool new thing turns boring). Also, many things Duterte does are actually good for the Philippines – a few are mentioned in the penultimate utterance of Pinay. Others that could be added is that Duterte calls the president of one of the most powerful nations in the world a ‘son of a whore’⁴, and that he’s really trying to warm up to the (economically) powerful giant in the region⁵. Another great thing that Duterte does – good for the Philippines – is that he can’t deal with any form of criticism; the moment he does, he starts lashing out violently – without any solid arguments to the contrary of the criticism⁶. In other words – even if you’re not blind to sarcasm – I understand why Duterte is so immensely popular: he is the first one to deliver anything at all.

Now, remember that the fact that Duterte is doing some good things for the Philippines, that doesn’t automatically make him a good man. Let me elaborate – back to the hypothetical conversation above:

Pinay: Oh, you mean the killings? Those are legitimate police operations. Those were criminals and drug peddlers killed because they resisted arrest.

Legitimate is a difficult word here… Define legitimate. If legitimate means authorized by the government, then indeed, they are legitimate. However, if legitimate means ‘according to the law’, then some brows must immediately be raised. Because in a proper democracy a law – before it becomes law – has to be tested by the courts against the constitution of the country. I dare contest the legitimacy of the killings on two points: first, I can not believe a law has been passed and tested by the supreme judges that allows the police to randomly shoot people in the street. Because believe it or not, that is what is happening. You can never convince me that a five year old girl is a drug pedlar or a criminal⁷ (and yes, in this note I consciously chose a Philippine news outlet to prevent being blamed for using the bought and biased international news).

This war on Drugs by Duterte reminds me very much of the war on drugs by his former Thai colleague¹. People get shot in the streets without any legal rights, no process, no law whatsoever upheld. This is, because people happen to be put on a list, and if you’re on the list, you die. Period. No trial, just shot. And surprise, surprise, whenever the police shoots someone, the same envelope with drugs is found on the body as ‘proof’ that he was a drug pedlar. This was the situation in Thailand. The situation in the Philippines is nothing different. These guys get shot – almost at random – even when they don’t resist arrest^{8 warning – extremely graphic}. Was that five year old girl really resisting arrest? So much so that the police felt so threatened that she needed to be shot? Blimey.

Also, what this war on drugs did in Thailand, is that the price of drugs increased 10 fold. The big drug-lords were officially the target, but were never caught, killed, or brought to justice. The big drug-lords only made a tonne of money because the price went up drastically. The ones who died were the addicts, and the street pedlars – and those, come 14 in a dozen and are replaced the moment the police’s grip slacks. I would be very surprised if the situation is very different in the Philippines.

Genocide? That’s like killing 6 million in a holocaust.

I’m glad you bring that up. It speaks volumes for Pinay’s knowledge of global history to say that killing 6 million in a holocaust is genocide. It’s true that this killing in the Philippines isn’t genocide; genocide is the killing of a certain people – and drug addicts aren’t one people; they come from all races and nationalities. But if a random killing of less than 6 million people is no genocide, then there’s something odd about your thinking. 8373 is also plenty to be considered genocide^9 10.

This isn’t genocide. This is relatively random police brutality; in my opinion it’s murder. But as you bring him up, let me tell you that Hitler wasn’t always considered evil by everyone. Better said, in 1933 he was just as popular in Germany as Duterte is in the Philippines now¹¹. Why? Because he had a decisive answer to Germany’s problems at the time. He got Germany out of the crisis it was at the time. People actually thought he was a good guy – just like Pinay now thinks Duterte is a good guy. I pray for the Philippines that this is as far as the analogy goes.

My family has never been better.

Of course, Pinay, your family has never been better. But I warn you, if you piss me off, I will smooch a little with the local police, and I will get your brother to be put on a list. Then the police will come and shoot him in the back. Did he do drugs? Of course he didn’t. But you made me angry and I know how to play the system. And if you think that this can’t be done – if you think that this is not happening right now, than you are naïve.

600,000 drug addicts and peddlers voluntarily surrendered for rehabilitation.

Yes, and they are treated like dogs. Or worse. What your government is doing to the addicts is not what you would wish on your worst enemies. They’re not helping them get back on their feet. They’re not helping them get rid of the drug addiction. They put them with 1000s in a prison that is suitable for 800 people. If I were addicted to drugs – for whatever reason – I’d rather be shot in the back than be left there to rot¹².

My point here is that there is a better – more constructive – way to rid the country of drugs than by killing those who use.

Crime has gone down 49%.

First, what’s your source for this number?

And second, well, that depends on your point of view. Terrorism sponsored by a government is called war. Murder committed by the government is called legitimate killing. There is a very difficult and complicated grey area there – and quite a few university students have a hard time studying law and ethics to determine just where the border lies. Crime by the citizens has gone down (on 31% in July¹³), but murder by the government has gone up dramatically (no official numbers are of course available – extra-judicial killings are always off the record). That too is considered a crime in The Hague¹⁴.

Because media outlets here only report the negative ones. Most media corporations in the Philippines are owned by oligarchs. That’s why they try to bring down the President because they are scared of him.

This just reminds me of the situation in Thailand. There are two parties there, and both are wrong. But that aside. Every time one or the other international news-outlet reports something positive about the other side, the people will claim this journalist was bought by the other side; corruption in the press. And this putting down of the international press is now also happening in the Philippines: don’t believe what the independent press is saying, because they’re all trying to put our Glorious Leader (not to call him Führer) down. Our Glorious Leader is perfect, he knows all and does nothing wrong. He is the best there can be, and anyone saying something else must be afraid of him – and must be wrong. This is also the kind of thing a North Korean would say about Kim Young Ill (typo intended).

I’m tired of presenting logical argument against emotional pleas. I shouldn’t go into this discussion, because it’s an emotional one, not a logical one. There’s no arguing with someone who ‘feels Duterte is a good man’. If you want to know why, I must refer you to a copy of Letters from Genua by Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer (I hope you read Dutch, or ask your publicist to have it translated in your local language; it’s a great read!). I am the fool here for going into the argument anyway. But here’s the point of all this:

The fact that Duterte does some good things for the Philippines doesn’t mean he is a good man. Duterte is – in my humble opinion, based on a few reads on ethics and some history lessons – a bad man. He is a wolf, not even in sheep’s clothes. He is dangerous, and in the long run bad for the Philippines as a whole. Not because he is killing 1000s of people – some of which most certainly are innocent – without trial. He is a bad man because in a decade he will split the Philippines in half. There’ll be 5000 or more people dead, quite a few of which are innocent, and there will be a strong call for his removal. However, the group that at that point in time still falls for his rhetoric will call for him to stay on. And then he will start killing political opponents – most likely. And that is when Pinay will hopefully discover that he/she was wrong in his Godlike reverence of this wolf.

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thaksin_Shinawatra#.22The_War_on_Drugs
2. http://www.bitsandpieces.us/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/America-and-Britain.jpg
3. http://www.diem25.org
4. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/sep/06/son-of-a-whore-was-not-meant-to-be-personal-duterte-tells-obama
5. http://opinion.inquirer.net/97050/duterte-and-china
6. http://www.philstar.com/headlines/2016/07/15/1603156/what-due-process…-i-am-not-court-duterte-tells-critics
7. http://www.wesh.com/national-news/philippines-5yearold-girl-killed-in-drug-war/41386590
8. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3710940/Harrowing-pictures-brutal-truth-Philippines-war-drugs-s-seen-300-killed-just-one-month-president-ordered-police-bars-ground.html – and please check the whole page too: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3710940/Harrowing-pictures-brutal-truth-Philippines-war-drugs-s-seen-300-killed-just-one-month-president-ordered-police-bars-ground.html people shot in the back, people shot when lying in bed, are not resisting arrest!
9. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bosnian_genocide
10. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_genocides_by_death_toll
11. http://www.markedbyteachers.com/gcse/history/why-was-hitler-so-popular-in-1933.html
12. http://edition.cnn.com/2016/08/21/asia/philippines-overcrowded-jail-quezon-city/
13. http://cnnphilippines.com/news/2016/08/23/ph-july-crime-rate-decreases.html
14. http://www.philstar.com/headlines/2016/08/23/1616472/intl-court-may-take-over-cases-killings-says-chr

And P.S. – the best solution against drugs? Education, education, education. Is Duterte reforming (and investing in) education? The only thing I can find is that he wants anti-drugs lessons. That is not going to cut it.

And it ended with a delay

Tags

France

I could hardly believe it; the holiday started to turn out all right. The weather got warm – 30 degrees Celsius and more – and sunny. It was a pleasure just to hang out at the camping’s pool and watch the kids enjoy themselves. I – we – could finally relax. We spent a few days driving around in the very beautiful area, and visited the lovely town of Millau. On the main square and shopping area there is a lovely fountain where the kids managed to soak themselves.

And then it was time to do the laundry. Having waited in the queue for nearly a day, I managed to get the clothes clean at 10 p.m. In the dark I hung the clean clothes and went to bed.

In the morning, I realised I’d left the sugar in the car after yesterday’s pick-nick at the river. As I like tea with milk and sugar, I tried to open the car – but no such luck. The car was locked, and the key was nowhere to be found. We’d rented one of those intelligent cars with a start button and a key that automatically locks the car when you walk away. And when the doors are locked, the mirrors are folded too. However, this morning, the mirrors were not folded, the car was locked, and the key was nowhere to be found. The only conclusion: the key is in the car, and overnight the car decided to lock itself.

So I spent most of the day either on the phone with the rental-company, or waiting for them to call me back. A local mechanic even came to try and break into the car – which he could only do by breaking the window or having a spare key. I didn’t let him break the window just yet, and phoned the rental company if there was a chance I could get a spare key… Turns out, they keep the spare keys in Paris – some 600km away. So that wasn’t an option. By 5 p.m. we had no idea what to do; the only thing was to have the car towed and have the rental company provide a new car… But that would have to wait till tomorrow.

And then my wife checked the clean laundry. Something I had already done too, but I guess I am a moron. Because the key turned up in the pocket of my shorts that had just been in the washing machine. Oh my… I butted my head into a tree a couple of times, and called myself a moron for the rest of the week.

That particular rest of the week turned out just fine. And our timing of departure was perfect, as the last night that we slept there it rained. And it rained hard: some 4 centimetres of rain, which soaked everything as there was a small river under our tent. The day before we’d already packed most of our stuff and put it in the car. This was still dry. The rest, I had to pack while it was raining. It caused some extra weight to carry, but the advantage of leaving a camping in the rain is that you actually want to go home. If the sun is shining, and it’s more comfortably by the pool than in the air-conditioned car, it’s a lot harder to leave. But because of the rain we left on time, and made it to the train station early enough to stack our stuff in the train so that a) we didn’t get another fine, and b) nobody else had space to stack their luggage. But that wasn’t my problem at this point.

We had a direct train all the way to Brussels. So we would also be spared the stress of transferring in Paris. What I only realised once we got to Brussels was that the route I’d booked was booked well too tight: we had 8 minutes to change trains in Brussels – and that train leaving Brussels was the last normal connection with the Netherlands that day. And of course, on a six hour TGV journey, a 15 minute delay is neither rare, nor a lot. So once we were in Brussels, we had no chance to get back home on our tickets. There was one more connection, but it was the Thalys – a reservation only train. And of course, we had no reservation.

So we first hopped on the normal intercity to Antwerp, hoping there’d be another slow train to The Netherlands. No such luck. Really, only the Thalys. And guess what – at 10:30 p.m. the conductor was so smart to open only one door in the whole train and have everybody’s tickets checked before entry. We saw him refuse several people already. I had very little hope of getting on the train, but I had to try. I had a sleeping 2 year old on my back, I had a very tired 7 year old slumping next to me. And I pleaded with the conductor saying that the delayed TGV had caused us to miss the last connection home. And to my great and pleasant surprise he allowed us on the train. “TGV problems we solve every day,” the conductor said with a smile. It’s been a long time since I felt this grateful to anyone. Because of him we made it home by 1 in the morning. The kids were in bed before 1:30, and the parents – me and my wife – around 2.

Which ends this holiday of a moron…

While writing this blog post, the blog was called “Moron on holiday”

It continued with poor circumstances…

Tags

France

Well then, there I was, with my family – two kids, the youngest 2, the eldest 7, and my wife – at a gorgeous camp site in a really beautiful area of southern France. It was pretty much at the bottom of a canyon, but the ages had turned the area into many canyons so that one may very easily confuse the area with mountainous.

I’d travelled 1000+ kilometres to the south, from The Netherlands. Anticipating warmer weather, we had packed shorts and T-shirts, swim-clothes and whatnot. The only warm clothes we had were the jeans and pull-overs we wore on the journey down there. And the next morning disappointment hit big time: clouds, some rainstorms, fairly heavy winds, and only 9 degrees Celsius as a maximum temperature during the day. Farking cold!

After a shivering breakfast with a hot cuppa tea, we decided to get back in the car and drive down to Montpellier – down to the beach. There it was a lot warmer – 23 degrees Celsius – but also more windy. So the beautiful view and the nice sea to swim in was disturbed by unending complaints from my eldest: dry sand swept along the beach and it hurt his legs. Stretching this to an hour and a half was absolutely the limit of anyone’s tolerance. We got back in the car and drove into Montpellier, to get a glimpse of the historical city centre.

That was – surprisingly – a good idea. Montpellier is an old town, and its history has made its city centre quite a sight to see. A huge church with no church-square to speak of in front of it drew my attention. My family were more amazed by the view from the top of the mountain with the royal square – and the ancient Roman aqueduct that no longer functions but still stands.

Leaving Montpellier at 16:00 that day was less of a good idea. This day was July 13th, with the next day being a French public holiday (I know, but had never thought of it…). Also, the Tour the France would visit Montpellier on the 13th and 14th of July. This combination caused traffic to back up into people’s garages – and the 5 odd kilometres to get out of town took us over 2 hours. So instead of cooking a nice camping dinner, we had something fast so that the kids could get into their relatively warm sleeping bags before catching a cold. Because at the camp site, it was still well below comfortably warm.

Also the next day it was this cold. Scared of more traffic jams, we decided to walk up the canyon wall behind the camp site. This was a good idea in two ways: first, we stayed warm for the better part of the 9 degrees Celsius day, secondly the views from the trail were really nice. And to my great surprise, my eldest actually had fun walking up… He walked the 8 kilometres (4 each way) without complaining.

We did decide to walk back and forth, and not full circle though, because as we got near the top of the plateau, rain came. And I can tell you – in shorts, a T-shirt and 9 degrees and heavy wind… rain isn’t a pleasure. And all that waited was a warm shower, a camp site dinner and a mildly warm sleeping bag. And a big question mark as to what tomorrow would bring.

The camp site did advertise a wifi network – but it wasn’t free. And even when we decided to pay for it, it was so slow that a weather forecast couldn’t be downloaded, nor could we send any messages across different social media…

While writing this blog, the blog was called “Moron on holiday”

 

It started with a poor plan

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France

My planning was meticulous, but the execution much less so.

I don’t own a car, and I couldn’t find someone who let me borrow theirs for 12 days to drive back and forth between the Netherlands and the south of France. So we went camping by train. And it seemed easy enough: get on the train at 7a.m., change trains 4 times and get off at 17:30 in Montpellier, get the rental car and drive to the camp site. Pitch a tent and enjoy the holiday.

The first thing that was unexpected was the amount of stuff we need to carry – two adults and two young children. One of the latter still has to be carried, or he’ll be on the tracks before you can say: watch out for the fast train!

It really started to go wrong already before we left The Netherlands. With 7 minutes to change trains, more luggage than pleasant to carry, we hopped on a Belgian train heading for Belgium. This was the show train; not the fast train. So we missed our connection and – once in Brussels – were stuck there for the day. I know, plain stupidity from my side, and there’s no good excuse but to say that I wasn’t paying attention.

The bright side is that we now have a holiday in two countries: we got to see Manneke Pis, and my youngest loved it. He was glued to the fence and screamed as if he were being abducted when I carried him off ten minutes later.

The next morning everything went fine, but let me recommend something about Paris: do not change from Gare De Nord to Gare de Lyon with only 50 minutes and two children and a tonne of bags. It is a very stressful experience! With 3 minutes to spare we got on the next train. It worked, but was too close for comfort.

And so we got on the TV from Paris to Montpellier. Once underway we were fined 45 euros because ‘we’re not a freight train’. Our luggage was to big. Something like this doesn’t lighten the mood in the least…
And then we got to Montpellier… I rented a car to be picked up yesterday, so I expected it to still be there. I’d paid in advance, so morally it’s my car for the time I booked it. But no such luck. Car rentals are fucking thieves. They wouldn’t give me the car, and they wouldn’t even give me my money back! After a lot of talking they agreed to unbill my credit. But then I still didn’t have a car. I had to go through another rental company to get a car for twice the money as the one I’d booked. Friendly service, I have to add…

So now my kids are asleep in a tent, with an amazing non-Dutch view, and ten days of summer ahead of us. I’m broke but I’ll try not to think about that until we’re back home. For now, it’s my duty to make it a fun week for the kids.

Knowing how moronic I am, I may very well not manage to do that… The future will tell.

While writing this blog, the blog was called “Moron on holiday”