Well, today was a bit...all over the place.
I got royally chewed out by a lady in the International Department, here at the University, because apparently, I was supposed to have gone to Washington DC (like that's something everyone does in America, on a regular basis) to get a special stamp in my passport. The stamp was supposed to allow me to work right away - without it, I have to do a whole new set of paperwork, and I'm not allowed to work in the lab. Email me if you want more details on the complexity of the situation. I think she was really confused (but would NEVER have admitted this, of course) about the kinds of distances involved in the US to get from one city to another, and was very upset that I didn't seem to grasp the gravity of not having this stamp. When I tried to plead that no one had ever told me to get this stamp, she almost leaped across the desk in anger and incredulous righteousness, insisting that she HAD told me, and that I was irresponsible and unprepared, and that I was lying to cover my ass. Well, yes. As you can see, she was incredibly pleasant. No, I never got an email saying I should go all the way to DC for this stamp. Yes, I did check all the emails I've received from this woman. And folks, this is the lady who is in charge of all the international student's paperwork at the university. This woman's job is to help people who are new here!!
But, there are a lot of angry people in the world. I went back the next day (I'm finishing this blog later because I didn't have time to finish it that day) and had a little more time to look around her office - the woman had no decorations, no plants. Just a stark office, with one sad painting that kind of looked like a blurry self-portrait. She had no pictures - and she even had a picture stand that instead of holding photos, had rubber bands in it. Now, just because she's probably lonely, and self conscious, and bitter doesn't excuse her abhorrent behavior towards me. But it does help me to understand why she did what she did, and not take it personally. The long and short of it is that I now have to wait to go into the lab (so you won't hear anything on here about my work for a while, sorry!!) and I had to file new paperwork. The new paperwork allows me to live in the Netherlands longer than three months, without the little sticker. Why we didn't just do this from the beginning escapes me.
Now! I have had many excellent experiences in the previous days, and my faith in humanity has, for the most part, been restored. A nice Dutch lady gave me directions to the university on my first day there (I really should have just used my eyes and followed the giant, heaving line of people with backpacks on bikes through the city). As it so happens, my ride to school is really neat. I ride right through the city center, so yes, it is pretty hectic (one of these mornings I'm going to take a video of my bike ride so you can see just how hectic), but it's sooo beautiful. Even when it's cloudy, it's beautiful. I ride over hundred year old canals, and past a giant, beautiful cathedral. I bike past flower stalls, and markets, bakeries and old men arguing about the weather. In the morning, bakeries waft delicious smells over me on my way to campus, and the tantalizing thought of delicious bread with butter is what prompts me to, as Eliza Doolittle would say, "move my bloomin' arse." ;)
I have a ton of pictures, but I'm always finding myself with too little time to put them up, so unfortunately, you'll all have to wait to see images from my adventures on here. I will definitely have them up by Sunday.
I am going to Amsterdam tomorrow, to set up my Dutch bank account and to go to my first Fulbright meeting - and then, after all that excitement, I am going to Paris with Siri and her family to go to Disneyland, which, really, would have been exciting anyway, even if I was just a normal European, but as I am a foreigner, and I haven't been to Disney World in years, and I am still so totally psyched that going to FRANCE is a weekend trip possibility, it's like, at least twice as awesome. At least. You know what I can reach for a weekend trip? Cornfields. Or small hills. Or the back roads of Pennsylvania. Or the lake. That once caught on fire and smells of nasty fishes. I mean, actually, don't get me wrong, I actually love Ohio with all my heart, and miss it very much, even the stinky fish lake. But it's just a totally unique (I know, I know, something is either unique, or not unique, it can't be totally unique. Except this is.) thing to be able to go to completely different country for a weekend.
In any case, hopefully I will be writing about how amazing going to France was, and how psyched I am about traveling all over Europe, and how many pancakes I ate, etc. Till next we meet, and with much love!!
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
De Tweede Dag (The Second Day)
Well, hello there, my dearest blogspot fellows.
Today was a grand day of adventuring. I woke up and got ready to go downtown - today was going to be devoted to learning how to use the buses and getting a bike. As it so happens, I now have not one, but two bikes, which is just fine by me, as I wanted a second one for when friends come to visit anyway. One bike was free:
The second bike I bought from a very friendly Dutch fellow (who, I am very proud to say, I spoke with almost entirely in Dutch, during which I managed to tell him about how I am doing research on children with ADHD), for 55 euro. Which was an excellent deal. Also something Siri helped me with. The amazing-ness of that woman never ends.
While waiting for aforementioned man to get home, I stumbled upon this incredible graveyard/park:
Today also included a delightful adventure using the buses (if you are the only person at the bus stop, apparently you have to flag the bus driver down or they will just keep going...), getting a bus card (which I feel so super sophisticated using, because you just like, tap it on the little pad thing when you get on and off the bus, and it's like, "Hallo Mevrouw Lupas!" "Tot ziens Mevrouw Lupas!"
I wandered around the center of Utrecht for a while today, looking for the first bike. It was...interesting. Oh, and it was raining all day long. I was thrilled, THRILLED that I had the foresight to buy a rain suit. My pants and my top all stayed nice and dry. It was like a small miracle. And it was WONDERFUL. Hopefully there will be some actual sun this week.Because otherwise, I'm just going to look like this all the time:
I'm thoroughly enjoying my stay thus far, and look forward to many more excellent adventures in the weeks to come. :)
Today was a grand day of adventuring. I woke up and got ready to go downtown - today was going to be devoted to learning how to use the buses and getting a bike. As it so happens, I now have not one, but two bikes, which is just fine by me, as I wanted a second one for when friends come to visit anyway. One bike was free:
 |
| This bike came to me from a previous Fulbrighter. Which was very nice of him. |
While waiting for aforementioned man to get home, I stumbled upon this incredible graveyard/park:
 |
| Yes, her name was Wilhelmina Hamburger. Delicious, delicious family. |
 |
| I just thought that little sun was so pretty. |
Today also included a delightful adventure using the buses (if you are the only person at the bus stop, apparently you have to flag the bus driver down or they will just keep going...), getting a bus card (which I feel so super sophisticated using, because you just like, tap it on the little pad thing when you get on and off the bus, and it's like, "Hallo Mevrouw Lupas!" "Tot ziens Mevrouw Lupas!"
I wandered around the center of Utrecht for a while today, looking for the first bike. It was...interesting. Oh, and it was raining all day long. I was thrilled, THRILLED that I had the foresight to buy a rain suit. My pants and my top all stayed nice and dry. It was like a small miracle. And it was WONDERFUL. Hopefully there will be some actual sun this week.Because otherwise, I'm just going to look like this all the time:
 |
| Hot. Literally. It's like being a human sausage. Dry but stuffy. |
I'm thoroughly enjoying my stay thus far, and look forward to many more excellent adventures in the weeks to come. :)
Saturday, August 27, 2011
A Brief Introduction to the Many Adventures of The Past Three Days, or, Traveling is Stressful
Hello!
I am in Utrecht, safe and sound, well-rested, and expecting the last of my bags to arrive any moment. But more on that later.
Getting the airport was a hoot - except for the part where I was crying, and my mom was crying, and my dad was crying, as we parted ways. But my family and I arrived to the airport almost four hours early. Needless to say, I was good and ready when I got up to the counter. Both my bags made it (weight-wise) which I had been worried about, so that was a huge plus. And let me tell you something. I shoved those bags full, in order to have my carry on (my backpacking pack) have only 13 pounds in it - the IcelandAir requirement for a carry-on. And did IcelandAir ever check that carry-on? That's right. Never. Not once. Ever. In fact, I never even had a chance for IcelandAir to check my bags because the minute I set foot in DC (where I was connecting to my first IcelandAir flight) I went to the IcelandAir counter, the nice man asked if I was the young lass from Cleveland, I said yes, and he made sure my checked bags were good to get on the IcelandAir plane. Did he want to check my carry-on? Of course not. Did other people have carry-ons that looked like they contained a small part of Fort Knox? Of course they did. In other words, a lot of anxiety and re-packing for naught. Oh, well. Complaining about things that work out to your advantage is unbecoming.
In the DC airport, after obtaining my IcelandAir tickets, I ate this thing.
That, my friends, is a giant plate of waffle fries covered in chili and cheese. It was, as they say, AMAZING.
Extremely healthy and well-balanced dinner consumed, I waited for the Iceland plane. By some sad circumstance, I got the middle seat of a three seat row. I thought I booked a window seat, but who knows. Sitting in the middle seat on an overnight, transatlantic flight is, as many of you are probably aware, EXTREMELY comfortable. As in one of the worst experiences you will ever have, ever. It is uncomfortable, you're exhausted, and if you are like me, you are probably drugged (dramamine, people), making the whole experience that much more surreal and painful. And I sat next to this guy, who, first of all, was taking a weekend trip with two of his lady friends to Iceland. That's upwards of $5,000 for a weekend trip. And he didn't seem to have a sense of humor. He would even say things that were funny, but he never really smiled or laughed at his own jokes. He talked to me a little bit about my trip, etc., but then, when I tried to get some sleep, every time I would kind of flutter my eyes open, he would be right there, and he would be like, "Are you okay? You seem to be really restless." When he said that, I just wanted to die. Like, dear God, it's not bad enough I am stuck in this small, crunched, uncomfortable position, but now I have to be questioned about why I don't like it by some fool from DC who's taking a weekend trip to Iceland? He continued his strange questioning, in response to my semi-hostile and exhausted glare by saying, "I mean, you really shouldn't be that nervous about moving, you know? Just chill out, meditate maybe?" At which point I just closed my eyes and resumed my fight with my small 2 foot wide space to sleep in.
Landing in Reykjavik was wonderful, though. We landed just as sunrise was occurring, and Iceland is beautiful, even if it is completely barren for the most part. There was so much open space - and off in the distance, across this giant lake, were mountains. There were steam vents everywhere, piping smoke into the chilly morning. It was like going to the moon.
I briefly considered buying food at the airport before I realized I was just too tired and pooped to ask people how many Kroner or whatever were worth one euro. Customs, by the way, was completely fine - a very short line, but they make you go through a metal detector to get into the country. Does that seem a little odd to you? I mean, we were a flight from the US, so we all had to go through US security to even get into the airport we came from...I don't know. Perhaps it's for flights from other countries. All the IcelandAir flights had these little advertisements on the TVs that said things like, "The most amazing thing about Iceland isn't the beautiful abundance of waterfalls, or the fact that 99% of our energy comes from renewable resources...It's that the Prime Minister's phone number is listed in the phone book." They were funny, I liked them. But they reflected how small the country is - so maybe that's why they have super-bizarre security.
The flight from Reykjavik to Amsterdam went off without a hitch, too. I sort of half-slept my way through that flight as well. Though I think I did wake up long enough to ask for a bag of gummy bears...
In Amsterdam, there were nice big signs that directed me to the baggage line, and the whole time I was walking I was praying, "Dear God, let them have my bags, just let them have my bags." As it turned out (The baggage claim area was a hectic hot mess) they only had one of my bags. Which was okay, though I was so exhausted when I went over to the lady to make a lost baggage claim, I was sobbing with frustration. That lost bag is on its way to me as we speak (I just got the call that IcelandAir had found it about two hours ago), and so I feel much better about the whole thing.
After the baggage fiasco, my wonderful, WONDERFUL friend Siri came and picked me up at the airport. Now, a few words about this little lady. Not only did she pick me up at the airport, but she and my other friend from the lab, Juliette, took me out to dinner, coffee, and dessert, and Siri took me to both Ikea, and the grocery, just to help me get set up in Utrecht. They made getting here easy, and stress-less, and I just can't thank them enough.
On a side-note, on our way home, Siri and I did get amazingly lost in these sketchy, terrifying back alleys, where cars had just parked every which way, and we had no idea where we were, and we almost got hit several times as people came hurtling down one way roads right towards our car, but all in all, getting to Utrecht was great! Ha.
After we got back to my new house, I unpacked the one bag that did make it here on time, and below is a video tour of my new house, and my room with bags unpacked. Enjoy!
I am in Utrecht, safe and sound, well-rested, and expecting the last of my bags to arrive any moment. But more on that later.
Getting the airport was a hoot - except for the part where I was crying, and my mom was crying, and my dad was crying, as we parted ways. But my family and I arrived to the airport almost four hours early. Needless to say, I was good and ready when I got up to the counter. Both my bags made it (weight-wise) which I had been worried about, so that was a huge plus. And let me tell you something. I shoved those bags full, in order to have my carry on (my backpacking pack) have only 13 pounds in it - the IcelandAir requirement for a carry-on. And did IcelandAir ever check that carry-on? That's right. Never. Not once. Ever. In fact, I never even had a chance for IcelandAir to check my bags because the minute I set foot in DC (where I was connecting to my first IcelandAir flight) I went to the IcelandAir counter, the nice man asked if I was the young lass from Cleveland, I said yes, and he made sure my checked bags were good to get on the IcelandAir plane. Did he want to check my carry-on? Of course not. Did other people have carry-ons that looked like they contained a small part of Fort Knox? Of course they did. In other words, a lot of anxiety and re-packing for naught. Oh, well. Complaining about things that work out to your advantage is unbecoming.
In the DC airport, after obtaining my IcelandAir tickets, I ate this thing.
That, my friends, is a giant plate of waffle fries covered in chili and cheese. It was, as they say, AMAZING.
Extremely healthy and well-balanced dinner consumed, I waited for the Iceland plane. By some sad circumstance, I got the middle seat of a three seat row. I thought I booked a window seat, but who knows. Sitting in the middle seat on an overnight, transatlantic flight is, as many of you are probably aware, EXTREMELY comfortable. As in one of the worst experiences you will ever have, ever. It is uncomfortable, you're exhausted, and if you are like me, you are probably drugged (dramamine, people), making the whole experience that much more surreal and painful. And I sat next to this guy, who, first of all, was taking a weekend trip with two of his lady friends to Iceland. That's upwards of $5,000 for a weekend trip. And he didn't seem to have a sense of humor. He would even say things that were funny, but he never really smiled or laughed at his own jokes. He talked to me a little bit about my trip, etc., but then, when I tried to get some sleep, every time I would kind of flutter my eyes open, he would be right there, and he would be like, "Are you okay? You seem to be really restless." When he said that, I just wanted to die. Like, dear God, it's not bad enough I am stuck in this small, crunched, uncomfortable position, but now I have to be questioned about why I don't like it by some fool from DC who's taking a weekend trip to Iceland? He continued his strange questioning, in response to my semi-hostile and exhausted glare by saying, "I mean, you really shouldn't be that nervous about moving, you know? Just chill out, meditate maybe?" At which point I just closed my eyes and resumed my fight with my small 2 foot wide space to sleep in.
Landing in Reykjavik was wonderful, though. We landed just as sunrise was occurring, and Iceland is beautiful, even if it is completely barren for the most part. There was so much open space - and off in the distance, across this giant lake, were mountains. There were steam vents everywhere, piping smoke into the chilly morning. It was like going to the moon.
I briefly considered buying food at the airport before I realized I was just too tired and pooped to ask people how many Kroner or whatever were worth one euro. Customs, by the way, was completely fine - a very short line, but they make you go through a metal detector to get into the country. Does that seem a little odd to you? I mean, we were a flight from the US, so we all had to go through US security to even get into the airport we came from...I don't know. Perhaps it's for flights from other countries. All the IcelandAir flights had these little advertisements on the TVs that said things like, "The most amazing thing about Iceland isn't the beautiful abundance of waterfalls, or the fact that 99% of our energy comes from renewable resources...It's that the Prime Minister's phone number is listed in the phone book." They were funny, I liked them. But they reflected how small the country is - so maybe that's why they have super-bizarre security.
The flight from Reykjavik to Amsterdam went off without a hitch, too. I sort of half-slept my way through that flight as well. Though I think I did wake up long enough to ask for a bag of gummy bears...
In Amsterdam, there were nice big signs that directed me to the baggage line, and the whole time I was walking I was praying, "Dear God, let them have my bags, just let them have my bags." As it turned out (The baggage claim area was a hectic hot mess) they only had one of my bags. Which was okay, though I was so exhausted when I went over to the lady to make a lost baggage claim, I was sobbing with frustration. That lost bag is on its way to me as we speak (I just got the call that IcelandAir had found it about two hours ago), and so I feel much better about the whole thing.
After the baggage fiasco, my wonderful, WONDERFUL friend Siri came and picked me up at the airport. Now, a few words about this little lady. Not only did she pick me up at the airport, but she and my other friend from the lab, Juliette, took me out to dinner, coffee, and dessert, and Siri took me to both Ikea, and the grocery, just to help me get set up in Utrecht. They made getting here easy, and stress-less, and I just can't thank them enough.
On a side-note, on our way home, Siri and I did get amazingly lost in these sketchy, terrifying back alleys, where cars had just parked every which way, and we had no idea where we were, and we almost got hit several times as people came hurtling down one way roads right towards our car, but all in all, getting to Utrecht was great! Ha.
After we got back to my new house, I unpacked the one bag that did make it here on time, and below is a video tour of my new house, and my room with bags unpacked. Enjoy!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Night Before Holland...
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse... the children were nestled, all snug in their beds, while visions of sugerplums danced in their heads!
I wish. Actually, I'm tooling around emailing, IM-ing, and generally trying to keep my mind off of the jillion and a half things that are going to happen tomorrow. Namely, four different flights. Also: rechecking my bags in DC onto IcelandAir, the people who have the sweetest accents in the world. Really. I've called IcelandAir maybe...three times recently? And every time, some sweet-sounding young woman gets on the phone with an accent that sounds British but more crisp and sweet (kind of like Iceland itself) and every time, I just want to pour my soul out to her as she reassures me that everything will be fine, that my reservation is affirmed, that my bags won't cost anything, that I will have enough time to go through customs. Oh, IcelandAir lady. Would that you could just have everything arranged for me the same way you've arranged my flight details. "Yes, ma'am, of course your graduate school application has been accepted. You'll be granted a full teaching assistanceship, effective immediately. We're also giving you a sweet little house nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains! Enjoy!" And then she would ring a bell like the Icelandic fairy princess she actually is, and it would be DONE. Beautiful.
As it so happens, I have to make those things happen for myself, which I suppose is alright by me. For now, having the flight details worked out is good enough.
I got my hair cut today, and the lady who was cutting it (she owns the salon, so it was one of those really relaxed hair cuts where you're just like, "You're going to do an excellent job, and I don't have to worry about it at all. Hooray!") was talking to me about traveling, and she asked how I manage to be so calm about international travel. I told her that it has a lot to do with experience, and having some crappy things happen to you (like the time I got stopped at customs in Houston for my 1 oz. bottle of moonshine) that you learn from (whooo-day, I'mma nevuur bringin' muh moonshine through this here gate no muur, galdawnit, that's fo sho'!). In actuality, though, here is how I manage to be calm about international travel: I wear nice clothes, I'm polite, organized and patient, and I pretend I'm a wood-elf. Yes. That's what I said. A wood-elf. Wood-elves are strong, brave, and graceful, and can effortlessly leap from boulder to boulder across wide rivers. If you think I am kidding, think again. Pretending to be a wood-elf means you are constantly aware of your surroundings, formal, but not easily pushed-over, strong and capable. When I am a wood-elf I am also at the top of my game for all my taekwondo self defense, I move quickly and efficiently through all security and airports, and I am the master of foreign train stations. See? Wood elves are boss.
I will let you all know how traveling goes (in actuality) tomorrow, as I embark on this two-day long voyage abroad. I am young, and full of life , and I am getting paid to move to Europe! Egads.
I wish. Actually, I'm tooling around emailing, IM-ing, and generally trying to keep my mind off of the jillion and a half things that are going to happen tomorrow. Namely, four different flights. Also: rechecking my bags in DC onto IcelandAir, the people who have the sweetest accents in the world. Really. I've called IcelandAir maybe...three times recently? And every time, some sweet-sounding young woman gets on the phone with an accent that sounds British but more crisp and sweet (kind of like Iceland itself) and every time, I just want to pour my soul out to her as she reassures me that everything will be fine, that my reservation is affirmed, that my bags won't cost anything, that I will have enough time to go through customs. Oh, IcelandAir lady. Would that you could just have everything arranged for me the same way you've arranged my flight details. "Yes, ma'am, of course your graduate school application has been accepted. You'll be granted a full teaching assistanceship, effective immediately. We're also giving you a sweet little house nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains! Enjoy!" And then she would ring a bell like the Icelandic fairy princess she actually is, and it would be DONE. Beautiful.
As it so happens, I have to make those things happen for myself, which I suppose is alright by me. For now, having the flight details worked out is good enough.
I got my hair cut today, and the lady who was cutting it (she owns the salon, so it was one of those really relaxed hair cuts where you're just like, "You're going to do an excellent job, and I don't have to worry about it at all. Hooray!") was talking to me about traveling, and she asked how I manage to be so calm about international travel. I told her that it has a lot to do with experience, and having some crappy things happen to you (like the time I got stopped at customs in Houston for my 1 oz. bottle of moonshine) that you learn from (whooo-day, I'mma nevuur bringin' muh moonshine through this here gate no muur, galdawnit, that's fo sho'!). In actuality, though, here is how I manage to be calm about international travel: I wear nice clothes, I'm polite, organized and patient, and I pretend I'm a wood-elf. Yes. That's what I said. A wood-elf. Wood-elves are strong, brave, and graceful, and can effortlessly leap from boulder to boulder across wide rivers. If you think I am kidding, think again. Pretending to be a wood-elf means you are constantly aware of your surroundings, formal, but not easily pushed-over, strong and capable. When I am a wood-elf I am also at the top of my game for all my taekwondo self defense, I move quickly and efficiently through all security and airports, and I am the master of foreign train stations. See? Wood elves are boss.
I will let you all know how traveling goes (in actuality) tomorrow, as I embark on this two-day long voyage abroad. I am young, and full of life , and I am getting paid to move to Europe! Egads.
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