This is Amsterdam

Do you know, when you park your car in a busy place, and, when you pick it up, find an ad leaflet under the windscreen wiper? Yesterday, when I came out from work, I found an ad leaflet hung to my bicycle's handle.

Spa baths: they should be required by law

Belated post about weekend. Last Saturday I went to Aachen, in Germany but just 5 km from the border with the Netherlands, to visit Francesco, a former colleague of mine.

Some background info: I joined Philips Italy, as a "research scientist" (this title really sounds good! My current title is not even close to that), in 2000. Francesco had started doing his internship as a graduate student one week before. Our research group turned out to be very good. We were using Bluetooth about three years before it became a trendy gadget present in all high-range mobile phone. And, most important of all, we were having fun doing what we were doing, with slack deadlines and quite a lot of freedom in choosing what to do. Francesco (who later on graduated and became a full-time employee) was a volcano of ideas, while I was more of a geek, focused on Linux and C programming (I still am, although no more so Linux-oriented. What a pity).
In 2002, Philips Research went under a restructuring, which involved closure of the Italian lab. So we were kindly "invited" to find another job. Motivation in all the lab employees plummeted. Our job became sending CVs, downloading songs from the Internet, watching movies during work hours... And we were paid for that! Not forever :( About one third of the people were moved in the lab next door (which, about two years later, underwent the same fate...). The others found jobs elsewhere, inside or outside Philips. My job was outside Philips, while Francesco joined Aachen's Philips research lab.

The weekend was a lot of fun. In Saturday Francesco introduced me to the Carolus Thermen, which are simply marvellous: hot water, cold water (much better than I expected), open-air pools with spinning water, sauna... Then we went to a pizzeria with some colleagues of him, mostly non-German. Then, one of them was having a party at his home, so we went there, had fun and drank quite a lot. Then, Francesco insisted we go to a bar, but I reached my limit, so I sat on a sofa and fell asleep...

On Sunday, we went to "les Trois Bornes", the point where Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands border. 5 meters from that point, there is the tallest point in the Netherlands (327 metres above sea. Yes, they are flat). A pretty nice spot, woody hills, perfect for a weekend trip. Then we spent the rest of the day around Aachen, jumping from a tourist spot to a bar and back, and drinking spa water (bleuch...let's hope at least it's healthy). Then, back to Heerlen, in the Netherlands, where I caught my train. Actually, I missed my train, so I waited for one hour until the next one.

And no, no photos. I forgot my camera at home

Sense of humour

Dutch can have a very sharp sense of humour, very different from Italians. An example is this note posted to the window of a ground-floor flat close to my house.

People who do not Dutch need a translation. But I don't know Dutch either... Here is the best I can do (look Mom, no Babelfish!)

Dear burglar,
After 3 burglaries in 18 months
There is really nothing more to be taken.
Otherwise make an appointment in order to come and look
[a mobile phone number follows]

Sad news today

The father of two of my dearest friends, Chiara and Claudia, has died this morning. Chiara is a friend since the beginning of my university years, and she is also the mother of Tito. Claudia is the one I have to thank for the beautiful house I'm living at this time, she is a world traveller, and she introduced me to people of any race, colour and creed.

I wish I could have spoken to either of them, in order to express them my condolences. In times like this, all the people who are suffering for the loss of a person cannot but stay closer together, in order to support each other and help each other bear the pain. And, ironically, in moments like this, one really sees how beautiful life is.

I'll never learn this bloody language

I've living in Amsterdam for two and half months now, and still I'm very far behind in knowledge of the language.

At first, I thought "Easy, as I already know a foreign language, just learn a few words and the basics are there". WRONG. Building a large vocabulary is indispensable, and it takes time and patience.

What I am doing is try to read a lot, with a dictionary on one side, in order to build a large vocabulary. This worked for English, so it should work now. Yet, getting to the point when the general sense of one sentence is clear even when some (many) words are unknown took a long time. And, still, my gaps in vocabulary are abysmal.

Reading and writing...well, I never practise these. Theoretically, I have a lesson book for that. Practically, I dedicate too ittle ltime to it. And I never speak Dutch, because most of my colleagues are not Dutch, and the ones who are know English very well. But, most important of all, sometimes I did try to speak Dutch. The problem was, they understood me, so they replied in Dutch. And I couldn't understand one word.

This leads to the lowest point: understanding spoken language. Every morning, Radio 1 wakes me up. The speakers are very good, they have a clear pronumnciation. So, I understand some words and, at times, even what some sentences mean. But not being able to understand most of it is frustrating.
Listening to the radio makes me believe "Hey, now I really understand!". Then, frustration ensues when real-life people actually talk to me. As soon as the conversation becomes more complex than "Goede morgen", "dank u wel" and "alstublieft", my reaction is always a perplexed face and a few words in English, begging the other to repeat in English...

I realise I will never learn Dutch when I think about all the irregularities, and all the words with different meanings. "Waar" means "true" and "where", "weer" means "again" and "weather", "zijn" means "to be" and "his"... But then, I think that Italian uses the same word for "time" and "weather", and suddenly I forgive Dutch people for speaking Dutch.

The truth

After inspecting thoroughly the house where I live, and considering the furniture, the picture hung at the walls, the Indian spices in the kitchen, the presence of a wok in the kitchen cupboard, and the amount of incense sticks in the closet, I have discovered the truth: my landlady is actually an East Asian, enclosed in the body of a Dutch woman.

P.S.: the bike works great again. Next time I won't lose any hair trying to repair it myself. Also, this has re-established some trust in Dutch bike repairers.

Ripped off

A stereotype common in Southern Europe (and maybe elsewhere) is that Italians tend not to be trustworthy, and try to rip off others as much as possible, while Northern Europeans tend to be more honest. In the past I was convinced it was true to some extent, now I am not. The responsible for this is a bicycle repairer.

Some days ago, when I took my bicycle to come back home from work (and the Friday night beer with colleagues), I realised the rear tyre was flat. The following weekend was sunny and perfect for going around by bicycle... So, I went to the repairer closest to home, but it was closed (the sign said 18:00, but there was nobody at 17:50). By chance I found another one, open, and I brought my bike there.
One day (and 6,50 €) after, the tyre was inflated, but not at high pressure. I inflated it myself at home. I inflated myself again the morning after, and I went to work. Guess what? After work, the tyre was flat again. There can be an explanation, maybe something in the wheel caused another hole, but I tend to think that the repairer just inflated the wheel without repairing it.
So, after marking that repairer as not worth coming back, I decided to do that myself. It is much more difficult than expected. I even phoned my father in Italy to ask for advice. Eventually I disassembled the wheel and fixed the hole in the inner tube. Then, today, I spent almost the whole morning putting the wheel into place. After lots of swearing, dirty hands, and a kind neighbour who helped me invaluably, the wheel was in place, but not perfectly straight, and one piece of the brake was missing. So I did what I should have done in the first place: go to the repairer closest to home. What will come out? Only time will tell.

Back to Holland

Christmas holiday time is over, sooner than I was used to. The 6th of January is a bank holiday in Italy, so it is common habit to make holidays last until that date. But in the Netherlands it is not :(

I enjoyed my Italian holidays. I enjoyed much less the Italian weather. Many say Italy is the country of the sun. Obviously those people have never been to Italy in autumn and winter. It was terribly cold, it rained most of the time, and one day (29th December, I think) it snowed. The biggest snowfall in twenty years.

note the snow covering the roofs and the lawn

So, on 1st January I woke up with a cold, cough and fever. But my plane tickets were not refundable, so I travelled back to Amsterdam nevertheless. The day after the fever, cough and cold were even worse, therefore I stayed home all day.

As soon as I recovered, I introduced my neighbours and my colleagues to the joys and delights of panettone and pandoro. They are two typical Italian Christmas cakes, almost impossible to find in other times of the year. Everyone appreciated.

After that, two Italian friends of mine came to Amsterdam at two different times (holidays last longer in Italy, lucky them), and I introduced them to the joys and delights of poffertjes and oliebollen (two Dutch cakes. The amount of sugar, oil and butter in them makes them absolutely unsuitable for people on a diet and those who care about their health. That's why I like them).