The return of the Dutch

Yes, here I am, back to the cozy (gezellige) city of Groningen, north of Holland. Elected this year as the best inner city of the Netherlands. Hmmm. Definetely it is a lively, interesting city, and I am happy to be back. I’m reacquainting myself with my old habits – riding the bike everywhere, that was the first, of course. I missed my city bike so much in Houston, and the ease with which bikes flow here, when comparing to the nerve-wrecking adventure that is riding a bike in Houston. I’ve been to the University already, to have a meeting with my supervisors… God, how I missed fruitful conversations without the fear of committing a mistake… I re-encountered all my friends here, had nice long chats with most of them, listened to all the gossips, and slowly, but steadily, I start to feel at home once more. I even went to the sneak again, and had the pleasure of watching a Thai martial arts movie about a guy looking for his two elephants in Sidney, Australia. Mostly spoken in Thai, I didn’t get a word, but still, I liked it. It brought me back to childhood, when I saw this Portuguese TV show called “Duarte e Cia.” (totally unrelated to me, I swear). The sound of breaking bones, kicks and punches was THAT fake.

But… something seems to be missing… Is it my impression or is the sun not shining enough? Is it just me or does everyone speak Dutch, instead of… say… English, Spanish, Vietnamese, Italian, Hindu, Japanese? And why did people suddenly stop apologizing (“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie!”) when they block my way or step on my foot? Yep. I miss Houston.

Or is it just like Antonio Variacoes said: “So estou bem aonde nao estou, porque eu so quero ir aonde nao vou…” – I only feel fine where I am not, because I just want to go where I don’t go…