A short story before the Queen's day celebrations.

Growing up in New Zealand, I always liked orange things. Orange clothing, orange objects, anything really. I did it, probably ironically, to remind my friends that I was in fact Dutch, because otherwise they wouldn't even consider it. Of course I didn't really know what it was to be Dutch then. I probably still don't because I have never experienced Queen's day. That's all about to change.

A few weeks ago, somebody asked me if I was ready for Queen's day. I replied:

"I've been ready my whole life".

My Golden Years

Last week, I became a pensioner. Yes, I got my retirement money. This doesn't (necessarily) mean that I age at an accelerated rate, but I got half of the money I paid into my Japanese pension fund. This really helps out my cause as a student, giving me some all-important breathing room. It's good to have a cushion- literally, and illiterately.

It also means that I may not have to work as much as I have been lately. However, with my school workload so low, it was too hard to say "no" to more catering work. I mean, I get paid and fed. That's a pretty good deal.

It is the irony of the Golden Years, that I have ended up working more than ever. I went back to Keukenhof, hoping to be the ice-cream boy again. No such luck this time. I was sentenced to a large dining room area, where for seven hours-long, I was constantly setting tables, serving old people coffee, and clearing the tables again. It was like a simulation of the circle of life. It was unendless, for seven whole hours, after which time, it ended-literally and illiterately.

I was working with some other people-one of whom was a guy who had just begun work in the catering. He showed up late, and proceeded to drop an entire tray of glasses. Then he dropped a pile of plates. He was slow, didn't know what to do, couldn't multi-task, and looked lost the entire time.

4 months ago, this was me. I mean, of course I was never as clumsy as this guy. And even when I do drop something, I usually catch it before it hits the floor. Seriously, I am like spiderman with super-quick reflexes. But it made me realise that I have actually become very good at this work. I was in constant motion, and still was able to have fun and joke around with all the customers and co-workers. (Technically, it is called being "Gazelle-ish")

Also I know I am good because the floor manager kept asking me when I was coming back. I know that bragging about being good at this, is like showing off your trophies for "Best Costume At The Annual Star Trek Convention", but still, until the end of last year, I haven't ever worked. In New Zealand I have done a few weeks of picking fruit, and in Japan, a mannequin could have done my job. It is a strange feeling to be good at what I do.

I just regret that I am not paying into a pension plan right now. I'm sure that whereever I am, I could use the extra cash in a few year's time.

The Immigrant Labourer Wishes The Journey Ended Here:
The Best Job Ever.

I was called up by my pimp to come and work at Keukenhof. This is one of the main tourist attractions of Holland, as a friend commented: It's the Disneyland of flowers.

It has special significance for me personally, as Lisse, the city where the Flower Park is, has a sister city relationship with Tonami, Toyama. And since the reason I got placed in Tonami and was because of tulips and this sister city-ship, Lisse is the reason I lived in Toyama for 2 years of my life.

Vengence would be mine!

Haha, I kidd. Maybe.

The point is, I rocked up to the Flower Park, among the tourists, expecting to be holed up somewhere at the back of a kitchen doing dishes. This was not the case, I walked to one end of the park, to an employee-only area, where I got given a classy uniform- (with two rows of buttons on the shirt!) and was sent to the opposite side of the park. The park is huge. Luckily, walking is considered work too.

So I got to help a guy wheel out a trolley full of hot dogs to a spot near the entrance of the park. By "help", I mean that I crashed the trolley twice. He laughed at me, we swapped and I got to wheel a smaller trolley.

Anyway, this was to be my job for the day: Selling pre-wrapped ice-creams, next to the hotdogs and waffles. It sounds okay, but I was concerned. See, right opposite us was a Draaiorgel- a giant organ. (Guys, insert own dirty joke here). It is hard to explain, so, here is a video. I took it more so you can listen to it.


Keep in mind, that this thing is especially loud. It playes every note at full-blast, and it plays usually well-known songs. Do you recognise this one yet? Other classics that it was playing on a 60 minute-loop were "Sukiyaki" and "Lemon Tree". Yeah. Umm, I looked at my watch, and remember thinking that this could be a long day...

Miraculously, it wasn't busy enough, so I got sent back to the opposite side of the park for a different job. This can only be described by this photo:

Yes, I was an ice-cream vendor!!! And I mean, home-made ice-cream. I got to scoop it out into the cones and hand it to people. It was awesome! Usually I would try to metaphorise how awesome it was, but nothing could come close. I mean, it was as awesome as being an ice-cream vendor in a quiet corner of the park on a day perfect for ice-cream vendoring, and getting paid for it.


This was my office. I unfortunately was not allowed to ride it, despite it being at the opposite end of the park. It was a long push. But at least pushing a bike is considered "work". This photo below wasn't me, but a colleague of mine. He was in a much busier spot.


The only negative part about the job, again was due to noise pollution. Here is a video of my surroundings. I was right next to a fountain- a never ending stream of water...

It was really fun to talk to all the people. Sure, they weren't always happy with how small the ice-cream servings were, but I was already piling it on more than I was supposed to. Unfortunately, and strangely, the many Japanese toursits did not come my side of the park. They must all have gone straight to the windmill, taken their photo and got back on the bus headed for Berlin. Instead, I served many Germans and French. Unlike Dutch-educated people, I have not studied German, (technically untrue as I studied it for 10 weeks when I was 13), or French (Also untrue as I studied it for 5 months when I was 20), so I was unable to speak back to them, although they presumed I could.

But I could understand them surpisingly well. My French understanding is probably slightly higher, but German is close enough to Dutch to get most gists. At one stage, I was very worried. A stern-looking and speaking German asked for an ice cream. Then he looked at me and spat:
"Sepen mal"

I thought, why is he speaking French, and saying that I am "super bad"?

Okay, it turns out he said "Seben maal", i.e. he wanted seven ice creams.

So I was finished at 3:30, and I since I was already in the park, I transformed into a tourist. I talked to my hotdog colleague, and I was able to procure a free meal, and I took photos.

Yabba Dabba Doo?... I didn't understand the relevance.

Seriously, I thought Japanese people would be all over the ice cream. I was waiting to scream in my whiney-est voice "Aisu kuriiiii-mu ikaga desu ka!!!!", like the annoying girls on the Shinkansen... That would have been hilarious. I never got the chance. Vengence can wait... I kidd. Sort of...


Sakura and tulips... Yeah.
There is being "diplomatic", and there is "ass kissing". Seriously, just because they voted for Obama, it doesn't mean America should suddenly outnumber the Dutch flag 4-1, on our home territory! I don't care if there was a good reason.

Anyway, being an ice cream vendor made me think constantly of this joke. If anybody watches Craig Ferguson from the Late Late Show, (you are awesome, and) you may have heard him tell this joke before.

When he talks about old-time movies, he says there always a scene where an ice-cream vendor guy says (in a thick Italian accent):

"Get some tootsie Fruitsy Ice Cream!"
And then a man walks up to him and says he wants a toostie fruitsy ice cream.
The vedor replies "We don't got no tootsie fruitsy ice cream."

Then as the customer walks away, the Italian shouts out: "Come get your toostie fruitsy ice cream!"
"Come and a get a tootsie fruitsy ice cream!"
This was playing though my head all day. It was awesome...

Fighting to Prove I am not Wasting My Time.

I'm always worried that I'm giving people the impression that instead of studying and improving my education, I am simply wasting my time with pointless activities. This is not true; last weekend I went to World Pillow Fight Day.

Yes, there is an official World Pillow Fight Day. You know it has to be official because they have a website.
http://www.pillowfightday.com/

It's held in about 60 of the great cities of the world like Amsterdam, New York, and Reykjavik.

In Amsterdam, it was held in the Dam, the symbolic centre of the city. It was scheduled to start at 5pm. I arrived early, and there were several people sitting around, on pillows, but not enough for an-out pillow war. But it became busier and busier, until the horn sounded, and the Dam exploded in a puff of feathers, rhythmic pillow-to-head-hits and screams. It was pretty sensational.(This guy's flickr account has more interesting photos of the event. Click on the photo to see them)

I joined in for a while, but I could not keep up. I'm sure that many of these people were on pillow-fighting performance enhancing drugs. I mean, it is Amsterdam. (The Association needs to crack down on this problem).
I couldn't help but think, this might be a little bit tasteless, and really quite awesome.

I did have a braveheart moment where I fended off several people as I made my way deep into the centre of the action. However, I got hit a few times too many, I swallowed a few too many feathers, and spent the rest of the time looking on like this:

I thought the fight would last 5, 10 minutes, tops. But no, it kept on going. half an hour later, the fight had condensed down, but was still fierce. I take this as further evidence of performance enhancing substances. It lasted for a full hour. At one point while I was watching, a girl came and talked to me. That was sweet, except she was from a cancer charity. ("for just 5 Euro a month, you can help toward the cause. You can even choose if you want the money to help men or women! Cancer isn't sexist, but that doesn't mean you can't be!")

Great, it's all fun and games until someone asks you for money. I admitted guilt, and immediately the fun was over.

But I was glad to be a part of this historic event, and not wasting my time doing meaningless things.

(Note: I may have inadvertantly insulted people from the fine city of Reykjavik. This was not my intention, and I want to reassure my many loyal Reykjavikian readers that I am aware that it is a fine city with "lots" of culture and would be a great place to raise your kids... if they have moustaches... and speak... Russian?)

The Almost Half Half Marathon.
Dutch people remind me of cicadas. It's not because the irritating noise they make, but it is because every spring they seem to come out of their six-year underground hibernation. I have never seen people so affected by the change of the seasons. I mean, yeah, apart from the ice skating, the Dutch winter pretty much sucked. That's all there is to it. But I still biked everywhere, and didn't really let it affect me. The theory is, that the weather here is so generally crap, that when it is nice weather, Dutch people MUST take advantage of it. The terraces in the city suddenly were full. In fact, the population seems to have boomed in the last week.

In my attempts at re-integrating, I too am taking advantage of the nice weather, in extreme ways. Our flat even had dinner outside once! Less extreme, but the subject of today's post is my decision to run the Leiden half marathon. This is next month, and I have been "genieting" the good weather (that word has nothing to do with "genitals"), going for jogs most days. It is great, you feel like you are running really far- actually running to the next town- and the next town. But really, everything is so packed in Holland that cities are built on top of each other. Still, there is a lot of nice scenery, farmland and cute cobbled towns to see. It's true that you see so much more of the area when you are on your own feet.

As part of my "training", I wanted to run in the Rotterdam Marathon 10km run. Well, I wish the Rotterdam Marathon was later in the season, because I would have liked to run the 21.2 km race but after three weeks, it wouldn't be a good idea. The 10km run is a nice distance for training, and a good way to be a part of the biggest Marathon event in the Netherlands.

I was too late to apply online for the 10km run, so I banked on the hope that I could apply on the morning of the race. I had to get up very early on Sunday, and trained to Rotterdam. It wasn't a problem. I got my number, and a plastic bag with a few pamphlets and a test bottle of manly moisturiser. That probably wasn't the best 14 Euro I've ever spent...

I had a lot of time to kill, but as the race got closer, I realised that I would need to leave my stuff somewhere during the race. Surely, a giant international marathon event would have some place to leave your stuff. That would be one massive oversight. I asked the guy hanging out in front of the toilet where the lockers/garderobe was. He said there wasn't any. He said I should hide my bag in a bush. He was serious.

He was a dumbass. I guess if your profession is charging people 50cents to take a piss at a public toilet...

It turns out there was a place, a fair walk away, through the now busy bustle of the marathon. It was just a large room, where anybody with a race number could enter. There were two army men outside, but that didn't make my stuff feel any safer. I mean, "Dutch Military" doesn't exactly sound threatening.

Since I didn't know anyone else running today, and since I was here mostly for the experience, I made an executive decision to run with my digital camera- for your benefit. (and it made me feel a lot less lonely). I went back toward the starting area with a chunky digital camera, an awkward shoulder bag for it, long warm-up pants, and 3-year old generic cross-trainer shoes with holes in them. I think I spent more money on my race-number than my attire.

This was a significant difference with other "competitors". So many of these "competitors" were wearing those full-or half-length sports tights. Why do so many people wear these? Okay, on semi-attractive women, they are fine, but why do all these men think they are Halle Berry in catwoman? I mean, maybe these do shave a few seconds off your time, but unless you have a genuine shot at winning, don't subject my innocent eyes to your tightly wrapped package! Seriously, wear a flimsy pair of shorts over it to leave something for the imagination! It would be like me wearing an Ian Thorpe body suit for a belly-flop competition. At my talent level, it makes no difference. I wish these people would at least have some dignity!

Okay, I am done with my rant. Onto the photos!

This was the course I would be running.


Okay, I know this means very little to you. Rotterdam is sort-of my home town, so I have a certain pride here. Most of it comes from the awesome Jackie Chan film, Who Am I? If you aren't familiar with Rotterdam or this movie, you should watch this clip of fight scenes among some famous downtown spots:

That's my city!

For the start of the race, the competitors were sheparded through these gates like animals.

There were so many people. I was surprised. I thought it would be mostly women trying to lose weight and sports teams, but there were some serious people there too. I mean, above the ballhugging tights, some had belts with tiny bottles of energy shots. For a 10km run, I don't think this would help much. I just had a peanut butter sandwich that morning...

It was a very slow start. Slowly the mass of people got moving.
I took this photo as I went under the start banner. I think my camera was mocking me.
There was a podium alongside the track. It must have been very exciting to see so many people not be able to lift their knees high enough to really run.

Both sides of this main downtown road- and the tramline were used as some space was created for a slight jog. The guy in the front seems very happy about it.

We went up to the Erasmus Bridge, "the Swan", and the crowd bottlenecked again.
See, this is what I love about marathons: the whole city shuts down for it. Running on the middle of this bridge is allowed probably only once a year.
Down past Hotel New York, where some people cheated and cut a huge corner.
This band was playing alongside the road. I hope they knew there was a race going on...

Actually, you may remember the story were I had to walk home from the Feyenoord stadium after midnight last year. The 10km run traced those steps for the first 3 or 4 kilometres. Also, the crowd was still thick enough to be awkward to run at a normal pace. I was always bumping elbows, and avoiding stepping on people's feet. One old man gave me a Dutch earful of swearwords. In all fairness, he might have thought I was some idiot running along and taking photos...
We went to the old haven.
Another famous landmark- if I remember correctly, it's a now unused bridge after the Erasmus bridge opened.
The we ran across the Willemsbrug. This was the steepest part of the race, and I think having grown up in New Zealand and being familiar with the concept of an "incline", I had a strong advantage.


Here you can see this white building (formerly the tallest non tower in Europe), and on the far right the Potlood (pointy building) and the Cube houses where Jackie Chan was fighting in that earlier video.
Speaking of Jackie chan, go to number 6 in this countdown of Jackie Chan stunts.

At times I felt like a Japanese tourist taking photos out of the bus window...
The crowd was pretty thick. It amuses me how only the kid is looking at me.
And the final home-stretch, it was still very busy.

And I was finished... ish... I had a very disappointing time of 55 minutes, but I blame the fact it was so busy. I mean, the first few hundred metres took 5 minutes. And I know I'll sound like I'm trying to be tough, but I really wasn't tired. Still, I wonder if I won anything...

Of course you win something! At these events, every finisher is a winner! I wonder how much these are worth. (I am going to guess that they cost less than 14 Euro each.




Runners are messy, I have decided. These are all plastic bags with armholes that they were wearing, and discarded as they started. So much for running being a "clean green natural sport".That was my number. (I was hoping for "5446")

And free water and energy drink!
My grandad used to be a motorcycle cop, and worked at some marathons. I don't think he had a police scooter though...
On my way back to the changing rooms, I noticed that the marathon posters had already been replaced. I found this amusing.
The thing that strikes me the most about running events is people using and lining up for the toilets. I didn't want to take one while there were lots of people there. Because you know, many of them proabably could run faster than me.


This here is an open air urinal. Or rather, it is many open-air urinals. I know the background guy has glasses, but you can just tell he is thinking: "Oh hell no, he isn't taking a photo of me taking a piss".
Back at the actual event waiting for the full marathon runners to return. Also, here is proof that the Dutch military exists.
This was a history making race, with the photo finish between two Kenyan runners both having the 2nd fastest time ever, only behind Haille Selassie, but I mean, of course if you are an athlete god comes first. Right? You can see the winner being covered with a red towel, in a James Brown-like fashion. Also, notice how he isn't even wearing those ball-hugging tights. They aren't even necessary!


This was also an opportunity to retire my shoes. And say hello to my new running mates. These will carry me through to the Leiden half marathon on June 17th. Don't hold your breath that I will bring a camera with me for that one too...