Clowns in the morning hours (or A'dam - Ede - Arnhem - Ede)

I had a VERY interesting night. It finished at 06:40 AM. :)

So I go on the train, right, to Ede-W. I nod off between Driebergen and Veenendaal; whooh, that was close. "Should maybe stay awake for the next stop," I think to myself. Yeah, about that.

As it's only 5 minutes, I should've just ... got up, walk around a bit, stand by the door.

  Well, I didn't.

Instead, I wake up in Arnhem. On the last train of the night. Whoops. I get out, too sleepy to even remember to ask the conductors, when the next train is leaving or what the taxi number is or if, by chance, one of them lives in Ede.. So I go out and think a bit - with a slight drizzle, I go to stand below a nice tree. I put on some extra clothes (thank god for layers! (I had a nice shirt with me, and additional thin sweater, so good on me:)) and I see a naked man, walking down the street.

I mean, either he was naked or he had a see-through everything. I was pretty sure I could see some "bouncy-action" happening down THERE. Anyway, I can only see him for 10 seconds or so, as he goes into this alley and vanishes. This wakes me up completely and puts a huge smile on my face: life is crazy indeed! I will never say "I've seen it all," because life just keeps bringing up surprises for me:)

Anyways, I decided to check the train station again, for train schedule (why I went to a nearby park was .. well, I needed to get some of the tea we had, out), but it was closed. Euuh, OK. So I put on some music and as that didn't work for me, I put on a really nice podcast (Stuff to blow your mind) - just geeky and serious enough for me.

So I walk around, right, Arnhem - phuh, what's there to see at 2 AM? I check some store fronts, see three shops selling wedding dresses (apparently they are a huge thing in Arnhem - not the dresses, they're normal, the weddings, I mean), a games shop, etc. A guy on a motorcycle passes me twice. I mark him down as a potential threat to look out for. (Or just a local dude with nothing to do.)

So I walk down the street and a guy with two white bags in his hand looks like he's just closing up for the night. By the look of the bags, he's got Chinese or some food shop. We pass each-other, I say "hi!" and as he almost goes into his car, he turns around and asks: "hhfas fsahlkjfasldj". Mhm? I took my earphones out and ask him: "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

I'm like: "Well, yes, a bit."

"Here, take this." He gives me a bag of fries! "It's not so warm anymore," he adds after a fashion.

"Wow, thanks! Thank you!" I reply and start eating it, as I continue my walk. I wave to him as he drives off and give him the (hopefully) international sign of 'dude, this is great!': OK sign. I hope he saw it, and didn't think I was giving him the thumb due to the fries indeed being warm and not hot.

As I walk further, I meet two cats, second one of which I hopefully fed 3 fries (or else, they're just there on the pavement still). I find a bench and sit, then lie down. It's 3:15 now. Jeez, "this is going to be a long night," I think to myself.

Lonely cars and trucks keep waking me up, but I manage to nod off in between. I'm nervous about the cops. Just in general, you know, nodding off in the street is frowned upon and I just want to get back home, no trouble and no questions asked.

"HEEEEE HEEEEEE HAAAAEEEEE HAAAEEEE!" two cars rolling down from the side street, just behind me. Just two retards, having fun and either trying to wake me or trying to wake people in the alley. Dicks. (I'm sorry, but they probably were.)

3:45. Ok, time to start back to the station. (I was kind of hoping the first trains would be there at 4:30, but a tiny voice kept saying: yeah, you wish. It's probably more like after 5 or so.)

So I start back, with another podcast and as I near the centre of Arnhem, I see this guy, in flippy-floppies, a shirt, two Amstel beers and a woolen sweater on his shoulder. He’s drunk, obviously. I sort of try to avoid him (not because I would be afraid, but because I too easily get into lengthy discussions with drunken people, preachers and elders), but he goes like: “Hey, you want a beer?”

  (Man, Arnhem at night is like, get-stuff-for-free heaven.)

I say that sure, the closed one. He goes: “What? Closed one! Are you Dutch!?”
After we establish, that no, but some of it might have rubbed off on me in the past year and a half, I say I’m from Slovenia.

He says his father, when separated from his mum, is now living for 10 years in Slovenia. OK, what does he do, I ask, as we are walking along the street.

He’s a circus man, the guy replies.

It turns out that the guy, Josma, is also a clown and a performer. And he goes: “Wow, the stars maan, they tell stuff, you know?”

I think: well, this is going to be interesting.

“Let’s go and make a fire!”
  I’m slightly dubious, as I don’t want to be the lead character of a front-cover matter in national newspapers, you know, just trying to find my way back home. But then he mentions “fire-pit”, which sounds more controlled, and “outside the town, in the fields”, which totally sounds more scary (than it actually was at the time).
 

As he said before that the first train leaves at 5:31, and it’s now about 4 AM, and as he looks harmless, I sort of go along. We end up walking next to the Arnhem’s park (Sonsbeek) and I ask him about the house on the hill. He says it’s now a restaurant, but that a young, 19 year-old lieutenant lived there and went to India and she hanged herself when he didn’t come back.
  Sorry, what? … After some explaining, I piece together a story of a lieutenant who apparently went missing and his young wife waiting for him, and hanging herself in her white dress (what’s with Arnhem and wedding dresses!?) from that top ledge – you see, just there?

And we go to the mill, and he explains about it and how he slept on the ridge in the roof, and we jump a fence and walk along; he tells me of animals that live in the ponds and how kids get assignments from the mill/centrum and go and find animals and plants and write down what they see. Aaw, that’s nice. Cool.
  Then we come to this larger pond, where some ducks are sitting, and some are standing in the water. I dismissed it, as they were probably standing on some ledge in the water.

Then he tells me: “There’s this path here, you can walk onto the island! You can walk on the water!! … I just have to find it!”

And I see the place where the ducks were: “I think it’s here, but …”

And before I can stop him, he’s already on it, ankle-deep.

Sigh. Ok, get ready, I say to myself, might be you’ll be rescuing the guy at some point. But hey, I still got 45 mins to kill and why notJ?

So he starts edging further into the water, now it’s slightly deeper, he’s all happy about it (who wouldn’t be, walking on water, like that, albeit slightly drunk) and he turns back to me and shouts:
“I can’t swim!”

Euh, what? “Sorry, did you say that you CAN or that you CAN NOT swim?”

The answer is even more doubtful:
“I can…(t), the DUCKS told me!”

Sigh. Ok, I’m getting mentally ready, might be some rescu-

and he’s gone. Flipped into the water. Of course.

I wait a second or two, before I start taking clothes off, but he’s back up, scrambling onto the treacherous pathway. He’s coming back towards me, all dripping and like a water-zombie. Huffing and puffing like one, as well.

It’s a comical sight, and I can’t suppress some laughter, but it’s all good natured.

On the way home now – I decide to accompany him, especially, after he mentions that he should not get hypothermia, and that he’s got minutes. (I’m thinking, well, it’s not that cold, and he should be fine, if we keep moving, but who knows, maybe he’s more experienced in this?)

And I find out about his wife (and that she won’t be too happy about this, oh, no) and daughter, and what he does and how he once put on a tall pair of stilts and went on a skateboard, downhill. I’m like, Jesus, really? “Yeah,” he says, “it was winter!”

Larks.

At the end, we part at his house and we shake hands again, and he starts telling me of his company (Verder Nog Iets) and half out of interest, half out of courtesy, and half out of already thinking I should have some proof of this night’s adventure (hey, back off about the halves, eh, it was late – now 5 AM) I want to write down his name.
“Nooo, wait, I’ll get you my card!”
“No, really, it’s fine, I’ll just write it here-“ And I realise I can’t, cause I don’t know how to spell it. And neither does he, so he – despite my insisting that nooo, you’ll wake up your wife, it’s fine – goes in to get his card.

So now I’ve got this 3 postcards (which are also business cards) of him and his girlfriend/wife at home. Want some? Write to me, I’ll send itJ.

I believe redonkulous is the word we are searching for, to describe this night in Arnhem.

PS – Got home safely, caught the first train and nearly fell asleep again. Had my bike at Ede station, and even though the first bus was 13 minutes away, I still cycled home, quite content with this night’s adventure … and the niceness of the evening before – but that’s another story.

Roadtrip ... in fotoaparat, ki gre 110 km/h

Po skoraj prekrokani noči in bujenju 2x v tistih nekaj urah teme, kolikor jih je bilo pred novim dnem, (bujenju s strani najprej Aleja, za zvonenje katerega sem najprej mislil, da je le pijanec ali študenti (ali kombinacija) in mu zato nisem odprl prvič (pozabil je ključe oz. je bil tako pijan (očitno sem imel prav;), da je bodisi pozabil, da jih sploh ima, bodisi ni našel ključavnice) in nato še njegovih "homies", latino prijateljev iz Amsterdama, ki sem jih moral najprej potolažiti, da je pravo stanovanje, da sem le cimer),
smo spakirali in spravili iz stanovanja končno do pol druge ure, ko so se Tequila Gentlemen ravno odpravljali v popotovanje do WC-ja, Do Velike Mašine, ki Dela Močno Črno Toplo Pijačo in podobno (pillow fight), torej s samo enourno zamudo; pobrali Santosa (Lucijinega fanta), tankali predrago (1,67 € na liter - pač na Nizozemskem ne vozijo zamanj koles in pač, če ste si kdaj rekli: "Čuj, kaj če bi se usedli v avto in šli kr v eno državo, tankali in prišli nazaj?" Nizozemska res ni dežela za to) in jo pičili proti Utrechtu.
Pogovori o kravah in konjih, ki zgledajo kot krave, pevcih in marsičem so nas pripeljali tri četrt poti, ko je dogajanje prekinilo najprej bučanje vetra, nato šumenje vrečke, nato pa besede Lucie: "Heeyy! Aliać, nekaj je padlo ven! Zakaj si odprl okno (nisem)?" Ko zapeljemo na stran in ustavimo, se izkaže, da je šlo za modro tobrico ... požrem slino in sebično upam, da je bila njena (okno je nevede odprla ona) ... nope! Bila je torbica fotoaparatom. Laufam nazaj (ene minuto pa pol, ker ... pri 110 km/h prideš precej hitro precej daleč - kdo bi si mislil) in ta-daaaaa: aparat cel in DELA. Torbica mal obrajsana, ampak ... dela. (Vmes so mimo zdrveli eni trije šleparji pa ene 26 avtomobilov ... in na srečo zgrešili.)
TURISTIČKA SVAKA ČAST!
P.S.: Torbica je znamke UNOMAT.

Damien Rice in reminisciranje ob Random Collision -u

Pozdravljeni!

Življenje v Groningenu mi je, poleg miljon drugih reči in (spo)znanj, prineslo in razširilo tudi glasbena obzorja. Ha, ha - Severna obzorja. (A je to kdo gledal, ko je bil mlajši?)

  Prejšnjo soboto sem bil na predstavi plesalcev moderne scene, Random Collision-u in Club Guy&Roni-ju. Edan Gorlicki pa je plesal, ob videu, na katerem je neka punca plesala točno isti ples, na glasbo Damien-a Rice-a, I remeber. Komad, ki je v originalu daljši, z delom, ki mi ni tako všeč, so v svoji krajši obliki za-loop-ali in nastala je huda plesna točka s fenomenalno glasbo. Zgodba pa je govorila o partnerskem odnosu ... svetsko.

Drugo glasbeno razodetje je Rupert Blackman, o katerem bom še pisal, vsekakor pa priporočam (hvala, Jasna!) ogled oz. predvsem poslušanje tehle komadov:

Just Come Over Tonight, Win, Don't you Ever Change, Strong.

Pants #2

The Bycycle Butt
- part two -

"One lovely day in mid-winter, Aljaž was riding his bike (technically, it was the bike of his landlord/roommate), minding his own business (well, I was basically amiably humming to meself, down the street to the Centre for Lifesciences, when all of the sudden, Pants, for some reason known only to them and quite possibly also little wriggly men atop high mountains, wearing orange clothes and no underpants, completely lost their nerves and disgracefully let go of themselves in the general Butt area...
But luckily, as these things go, there was a Stranger in town (nevermind the fact there were probably approximately 1,347 strangers in the city at that exact moment), who knew the arts and crafts and was gifted in the old and sacred art of sewing. So Aljaž asked unto her: 'I've seen you have something similar - so I take it you're able & apt in doing these as well?'
Also, in want of not sounding too demanding, he added: 'Cheerio, thank you very much,
ALjaž'
And, since he was of the general forgetful sort, he post-scripted: 'Ooh, also, can you do something about the left pocket?? If not, I Can:)' "

- The end -

Lepilna pošta

  //Napisano kot odgovor na Jasnin:Veeeeery scientific!//

Mi smo pa danes v odmoru za kavo (coffee break... ne pijem kave, pa ne vem, kako se temu po naše reče - verjetno sem zadel;) preizkusili, če seže ta velik selotejp do pritličja iz 6. nadstropja. Laufal sem dol in preveril, če je - ne, prišel je samo do mojega popka! (Ampak to zato, ker so ga vmes že nekaj narolali v kepo... Neresneži.)
Ker je seveda potem treba to še uporabiti (uporabna znanost pa te stvari), in ker sem bil že ravno v avli v pritličju, so hoteli čips. Ker nihče ni hotel vreči kovanca ali denarnice dol, ne bodi si ga len, hopacupa, povlečt lepilni trak nazaj gor, pritrdit denarnico od ene kitajke in jo spustit nazaj dol. (Ko videl akcijo v začetku, sem šel lepo z liftom nazaj gor, mimo njih, ki so se matrali in vzel svoj čaj .. se srkajoč spustil nazaj v globine in ravno pravi čas prišel do točke L.)
Po lepilni pošti sem poslal vrečko čipsa (papriko, kakopak) in se vrnil nazaj gor.
Ta-daaa!
;) Jao.

Origami

No, ko gre teden proti koncu, ko že misliš, da bo še en dan šel po vodi ..., ko je ura že 18:30 v petek zvečer ... takrat ... takrat me pride iskat mentor in dene pred menoj na mizo iz papirja narejeno šatuljico (oz. nje spodnji del).

  Dan nazaj sem bil namreč med zadnjimi, ki so odhajali iz CvL-ja in sem opazil na mizi v "kavnem kotičku" (coffee corner, zdaj pa prevedite to, jaz ne vem) šatuljico. Hotel sem jo razdreti, pogledati in sestaviti nazaj, da bi se naučil - seveda ni šlo - in zato sem napisal sporočilce neznancu (lahko bi uganil!): "Živjo! Mi lahko prosim pokažeš, kako se to naredi? A 06.17." To zadnje je bila številka sobe.
  No, in tako sem prišel h Kimu v pisarno in sva naredila, ob glasbi Counting Crows (jo je dal gor posebi za origami delat:) škatlico, pokrovček za škatljico (malce večji), razdelke za notri, tako da dam lahko zdej npr. čigumije ali ... muhe .. ali karkoli, kocko (to sem si vedno želel znati!), piramido, nato pa mi je samo pokazal (ker je moral podreti mojo kocko oz. tedaj že piramido) nek čudno-kotni-eder. Pač ni bil dodeka, ampak je bil pa kr-neki...eder.
  Svašta. Zdej pa jest, pa body painting. I'll let you know how that goes! ;)

Gelukkig NieuwJaar!

And so it is: 2011. Dvomljivci boste rekli, da "pa saj smo ŽE v drugem tednu" in "halooo, upam, da ne pišeš več 2010!!" ampak zame se začenja z realizacijo, da je novo leto odšlo. V vseh svojih čarih, l učkah in toploti. Treba se bo navadit na nov ritem, preden pride cimer iz Grčije, pospravit do konca stanovanje, it še parkrat v štacuno, spet začet tečt in utečt nazaj nogo.

Upam, da je bil vaš fenomenalen, če ne pa vsaj norm-allen.

Kaj več pa drugič oz. na drugih straneh.

Leteča mezga in Rdeči Jezus

V petek smo šli ven... (¡Ay, caramba!) Hernán, Emilia, Andrés, Olja (Beograd), ful enih drugih in seveda Aidan.
Vse lepo in prav, ampak veliko lažje je tečt 10 km tek na tekaškem tekmovanju, če spiš več kot med 6:30 in 11:30 uro;) (Intermezzo: Bil sem 18. izmed 59-ih v rekreacijski kategoriji, s časom 50:09 .. moj mentor je bil 3., njegova sodelavka, tudi PhD-jevka pa je zmagala v svoji kategoriji! - 40:06 za 10 km ... like wow.)
  No, pa nazaj na petek: začeli smo v študentskem domu, v njihovi skupni sobi - vau, ful velika in taka ... študentska;) Torej razmetana, nepospravljena, povsod ostanki žurov in popivanja. Men se je dopadla pa zaradi mize za pinpong - zakon, sem igral z enimi tipi iz Saudi Arejbije;)Vse, razen enga sem premagal, pa še to sam zato, ker je imel grozno hitro servo;) (In jaa, ne skrbet - v sobi je tudi miza za namizni nogomet;)

Po obisku nekaj lokalov (že v mestu, Pepperstraat), med katerim seveda v tistega, kjer je bila najbolj kul "dance" muzika Rdečega Jezusa (na sliki) in Andrésa niso spustili, smo, po končani noči zavili z nekaterimi še na burek/kebab/turkish pizza. Jemo, se pogovarjamo, PUUUFFF flop flop, bamf! Kar naenkrat nas je preletelo nekaj rumenega. Pregled situacije pokaže, da je bila omaka (česnova) v flaški. Pač en tip jo je vrgu ven (pa se pol delal, kot da je ni - zelo nabrito in domiselno, noben ni pogruntal), na ulico. Morda so mu popustili živci ali pa je hotel prispevati sicer že tako pestremu dogajanju na ulici: vsake toliko se je kdo hotel stepst, pijano prepevanje, parčki, ki serjejo, jao.

  Po besedah ene kolegice, pridejo v petek in soboto sem holzarji oz. kmetavzarji iz vseh okoliških vasi ... in ... khem .. marsikomu začinijo večer. Če je treba, tudi s česnovo omako.

I'VE GOT THE POWER!

Yes, folks! Tako je! We've got some juice. The eagle has landed. Ovce so doma! Elvis has left (?) the building! Kokršpanjel gre lahko na sprehod. One small step for humankind, but a giant leap for myself. Hladilnik ma pivo. "There's a hundred and eight miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank, half full box of cigarettes, it's dark and we're wearing sunglases."

  "Hit it!"

V stilu fenomenalnih Blues Brothersov (Dan Akroyd in Joe Belushi) zaključujem misel: imam internet 'doma'!

  In to je nekaj, za kar se splača napisat vnos v blog, verjemite.

Sicer pa smo ravnokar končali z odlično večerjo (katero sem zamudil, ampak tekoči in sladki del sta bila več kot odlična), ki jo je Alejo priredil za svoje prijatelje. V šali sem vprašal, iz katerih vetrov sveta so, ... pa so začeli resno razmišljati, če imajo med seboj vse celine zapolnjene ... in razen Antarktike, v bistvu ... ja! Kenya (parents are from India), Kanada, Colombia, Mexico, France, Spain, Italy, The Netherlands in pol še nekje ... ena Slovenia. Ampak z velikim srcem;) Fajn zaključek dneva, res.

15 min med Soljo ali kino po Nizozemsko

Ne boste verjeli - preteklo soboto smo šli s sodelavci v kino. (OK, to ja, ampak kino sem našel v relativno prvem poizkusu, in še deževalo je!) No, tudi to še verjamete, ampak to, da smo šli gledat film SOL - SALT;), in da ravno preden se pripravlja atentat, <<<PUFFF!>>>, prazen "ekran" in piše "pauzeren". Erm ... hm? Pauz-eren .. kaj, pavza?!
  Huh, kako prosim? Žvižganje in negodovanje, ki sem ga (po slovensko) nekako pričakoval, kar ni in ni prišlo. Ne - namesto tega gre polovica ljudi ven, čisto vsakdanje, "casual".
Hmm? Sodelavci razložé, da ja, da je 15-minutni odmor, čist normalno, da se osvežiš in predvsem, da greš kaj kupit. (To mi je razložil mentor med srkanjem svojega piva, ki ga je kupil na začetku predstave ...)
  Potrošništvo. Super. Me zanima, kdaj bo to pri nas. (Upam, da nikoli -> tudi če koga poznate, ki se z marketingom v kinih ukvarja, ... sploh ne nobenmu v marketingu povedat, ok? OK??

  In film? Hja, dejmo rečt, da se mi je zdel "Wanted", torej film, ker ukrivljajo pot kroglam in jih pošiljajo okoli vogalov, v okvirih zgodbe, ki so jo zgradili, bolj verjeten. Tot ziens!

"(Nederland hasn't got) Talent"

  Na poti domov, ker seveda, bravo, včeraj nisem šeč v štacuno, ampak raje brcal žogo, danes pa sem bil cel dan na fakulteti, ... sem iskal nekaj, kjer bi lahko potešil dinozavre v trebuhu (brontozaver!).

  Izkaže se, da imajo bronto- in lačnozavri svoj dom, svoje pribežališče na Nieuwe Ebbingestraat, v prodajalni kebabov;) Naročim, se usedem in med čakanjem na hrano se vname pogovor z "domačinoma" - Turkoma. 

(V ozadju igra televizija.) Od kje sem, od kje onadva, koliko časa smo že tle (10 let/10 dni), kake so kaj punce tu in doma (valda so doma stokrat lepše ane), če imam punco, ... v tem pa pogled na TV ... razkrije oddajo Idol (wiki) (á la American Idol/Ameria's Next Top Model/Britain's got Talent/Pop Stars) - in jaz: "Oh, ne! Vi imate tudi to? Talent pa to?"

"Ja," zavije z očmi, "samo Nizozemska ga NIMA. Oni imajo sir."

So there you have it, no, pa imate: Imajo sir.

TCHETRTEK (Cetrtek)

Tako je: Nizozemci so uradno NORI!

  Vsak dan delajo kot norci - od 9h do 17h oz. 18h, po vecini vsi (vsaj na Biologiji), nato pa IZGINEJO. In samo se tujci hodijo naokoli. In to je to.

  Saj to se ne bi bilo tako hudo, ce ne bi ob 18h koncali VSI z delom. Torej, ce gres malce "prej" iz sluzbe, imas eno uro (ENO, 1), da gres kaj kupit. Aja, od tega je se ene 20' voznje s kolesom, da sploh kam prides.

  Nauk? CETRTEK JE DAN ZA BRITJE (vprasaj Blaza) in za SHOPPING!! Ko so stacune odprte do ... TAM TAM TAM ... 21h! Torej dodatne 3 ure! Niiice!

  Samo ... ce ti crkne kolo in umre pedalo, pa pade dol, moras najprej najti g. FITSENpopravljalca, da ti ga popedena. Ker seveda popravilo fulll stan, ker se ti (mi) je znucal najbolj drag del ..., ne more koncat danes, ampak jutri, okej? "Do 17h."

Aaah. "Em, g. popravljalec Fitsen-ov, veste, ker avtobus bi me peljal v severni del mesta (in se prej v center)?"

-"Em, ne, k se nisem ze dolg z busom peljal."

-"Oh."

-"Ampak saj dobis kolo."

-"Oh?" .... "Ja, ampak, kolk pa je?"

-"Oh, nic, zastonj. Sam ma pa bremze na nazaj."

-"Okidoki, super. Se tole (torbi za na kolo) bom kupu, ok, lahk namontirate. Ten(10)ks(x)!"

Cetrtek v mestu ... je, kot bi dregnil v mravljisce ali osje gnezdo. Povsod so ljudje, ulica je prakticno neprehodna! V stacunah gorijo luci, mesto zivi!

  In tako sem lahko se 15' do 21. kupil kruh, pa 21:05 (ja, so sli cez cajt) se hlace. Noro, ne?

  Baje (vir: Alejandro) obstaja Knjiga ... ki govori o norih Nizozemcih - ena Nizoz. & Anglez sta jo napisala. Bojda, da jo morat dobit. Po tem, kar sem videl v prvem tednu (jutri je se en dan, mind you), jo MORAM dobit. For the sake of my own piece of mind:)

No, zdaj pa jest ... Oh, o hrani pa kdaj drugic - to je celo poglavje zase!!

Oh, ja, pa selimo se konc oktobra na drugo stran mesta (Zernike kompleks).