Crtd 12-01-27  Lastedit 15-10-27

This book, found in the Netherlands is colouring this page.

My reconnection to the world made me discover that I should fly to The Netherlands in one of economic boom country Turkey's Airlines brand new Airbuses, over Istanbul, half the price of Dutch Airlines, enjoying my gorgeous food on spacy chairs, breathing a perfect atmosphere, hearing no engine and only the whispering of the air. Istanbul Airport is awesome, in all respects well above the EU standard. The lira is appreciating against the euro as well. I asked a Turkish traveler, in Dutch, whether in Turkey bicycles still wore no locks (since they never got stolen, as I was told). He confirmed. "So", I said, again in Dutch, "that convincingly proves Turkey is not ready for the EU". The Turk smiled, and said, in Dutch: "Indeed we are not, but lately we are the ones who say that ourselves". Then we reminded each other how right after the 1609-truce with Spain, the Turkish Empire was among the first to recognize the Dutch rebels as a real country - even though it wasn't yet officially! [this is a bad lie. We didn't. I read it only later in the Dutch Republic] After cordially, and being Dutch, a bit jealously, congratulating him with his country I boarded and landed on Schiphol where a Dutch lady harassed the railroad speakers  with the message "Due to severe frost special time tables are in operation". In Dutch of course. One hears: "Wegens de stgenge voist geldt een speciale dientgegeling". According to the latest of the almost yearly official Dutch spelling rules updates "stgenge" should be written "strenge" and "dienstgegeling" "dienstregeling". That is a spelling mode fossilized in the mid-twentieth century, when the Dutch still were able to pronounce a recognizable "r". In Dutch pronunciation the "r" has now degenerated, if before a consonant, into a version of "i" with the mouth a bit more closed than when pronouncing the real "i" (write "vorst" pronounce "voist"). But if the "r" is at the start of a syllable it is pronounced as a guttural "g" slightly thinner than where the Dutch write a real "g". The gutturalization of the r is a recent influence by our Arab speaking residents, curiously enough emphatically exercised by representatives of a local Dutch ethnic party (PVV). Apparently they do not realize the  origin of the thin guttural "r" and consider it as pure Dutch par excellence. Even more amusing is their absence of knowledge of the Arab foundations of republican Dutch culture ^[more]. Railroad staff in yellow reflecting smocks armed with wireless gadgets displaying the on-line train schedules guided me to a train going in the opposite of my direction, to change on a nearby station. I entered the train. It featured a screen, occasionally displaying the outside "severe frost" ("stgenge voist"): 0^oC. Next to me sat a grandmother with her 5 year old grandson. She said to him:  "if it is so cold again tomorrow you do not have to go to school on your bicycle". "Come on, don't listen to that" I said to the boy, "after all, you are going to be a soldier, aren't you". "No no" the grandmother interfered, "...or only as a peace soldier".
I entered the procedure of figuring out for myself the puzzling distinction, often heard in the media, but now suddenly pressing, between a war soldier and a peace soldier. Since there is no difference between them in equipment or training, I started from Caesar's Gallic army. That surely was a peace army: it "pacified" Gaul, as its very leader put it to eternity in De Bello Gallico). My silent reflection gave the boy a window to ask his grandmother about the letters on the plastic cover of his newly purchased toy car set. It said "DIE CAST IRON". Grandma readily responded: "De kast is van ijzer" (the cubbard is made of iron). The boy was very satisfied. After thus, freshly landed, witnessing Dutch tradition to new generations in action, I changed for a train leading to the country farm where De Boot, my aging micro camper, a Renault Kangoo Diesel is stored. Bought new 1999. Of course I spent my accessory money not on 4WD but on a full bottom protective steel plating.

...Some house jobs at my parents'. Clearing the attic, my mother felt ready to part with her children's (now all in their 50s) toilet stool...

...Frost and skating frenzy in the Netherlands, but the badly snow covered ice floor of the Naardermeer was good for a completely solitary skating trip... 

Garden chipping my father (born 1923), I lost the first two heats, may be because I wore one of his caps for the picture.

Golf originated from Holland. The real name of the game is "kolf". In 1297, at Kronenburg castle, the players had to hit the castle door in as few strikes as possible from the Court House. The killers of Count Floris V (Gijsbrecht van Amstel, Herman VI van Woerden, Willem van Zaanden en Gerard van Velsen) played "kolf" on the way home. Fortunately, in the garden chipping competition with my father (born 1923), I hit our glass garden door only lightly once.

What followed was a tour along friends with De Boot. Meetings with friends are on evenings, since, I realized after refreshing my memory, at daytime they work. Mornings I would wake up in De Boot along some Dutch town canal, put my coffee boiler on the fire, wipe my windows and see fathers and mothers with frowned faces in the cold dawn, on carrier cycles ("bakfietsen") loaded with impressively wrapped toddlers on their way to the nursery then to their offices, very satisfactory to me to see everybody heading to work punctually, since my savings are heavily in stocks of Dutch firms.

...Morning coffee in De Boot at a "gracht"...

Then I would take up Jonathan Israel's Dutch Republic for a while to let the rush hour die. Heading to another town for my next evening meeting I would be in a jam anyway, sometimes even with a jam of airplanes standing next to the highway, pondering how all this started with smashing loads of invaluable Middle Age and Renaissance art to pieces in 1566 and Amsterdam a town of 15000 inhabitants (Rotterdam 6000).

Dutch art handling was not always up to Sotheby standards.

My tour along friends was marked by a minor electrical problem in my car engine that would be the ultimate Dutch social experience for any tourist, worthy of a comprehensive report on an appendix page: ANWB car breakdown service and Renault Theft Prevention Technology

...I also made a new friend: a fox in Holland's coastal dunes, trotted from far towards us, stopping at 10 m, willing to approach and sit down at 5 after my dog's greeting (kneeling down and gazing away) There's also said to be a dear plague in this area, but I saw none...

...Tilburg in full collapse: the former parking of De Hut (marked yellow) ^{[picture of De Hut from opposite side]} now barred by the municipality, exclusively for dogs (dog shit to be taken up by owner conforming recent municipal regulations). Barge on background, yes, still Paul's Jojo, but no Paul: moved to his suburb-girlfriend enjoying their two children...

...Daytime: smoking my cigar (in-house smoking is out nowadays in Holland), on board editing EthicaWeb on places popular among early retired Dutch dog owners. No foreigners here of course, they are all working. Poured some boiling coffee over myself (left)...

...As you see I only entertain outstanding friends (3 of them are even still working!)...Gained almost 10 kg, two pairs of trousers out of service due to temporary undersize, Pantagruel would be proud of me.  Arrow: Bert Kerkhof (b. Veendam), in whose orderly library I found Jonathan Israel's history of the Dutch Republic...

I returned home to Kampala with a sense of urgency caused by an email announcement from Tamara: "My judo suit arrived, starting of lessons will be announced soon!" ^{[your author in Tamara's hold]}

...I returned home to Kampala with a sense of urgency...