She loves her bilingual Dutch-English Montessori school, which she’s been attending in the 0-3.5-year-old age group since mid-November.  Since she had never attended a daycare in Venezuela or in Washington DC, we were a bit worried how she’d adapt to being away from us and to interacting with other children.  We needn’t have worried. She jumped in without pause!  She actually is doing so well that we’ve agreed with the teachers’ recommendations to move her to the next age group (3.5-6 years) a bit early.  We met with them last week, and this is what they reported: she is very eager to learn, asking questions and persisting when a task is difficult; she speaks in complete and increasingly complex sentences in English, while also understanding a lot of Dutch without reproducing it yet herself; she follows instructions and can listen to stories for quite long stretches of time;  she is very independent and self-sufficient, able to easily dress herself although not yet committed to always using the potty; she interacts well with the teachers and the other students, constantly talking about “my friends”; she has superb fine motor skills, excelling in doing puzzles and measuring things for the school’s cooking sessions; she can count in English, Dutch and Spanish and she is learning the days of the week, although often confusing their order. As a result of all this, they feel that she is ready to move to the next group where she will have some more challenging activities and older children to interact with.  Another benefit of the older group is that, as of yet, it’s still not full (actually far from it) so the student: teacher is great.  All in all, we are super happy with the school and with how Kahlilah is doing there.

Major emphasis within the Montessori approach is placed on independence, and boy are we seeing the effects.  Most effects are very welcome.  Kahlilah can do a lot on her own now, which is great for her and great for us.  However, she basically wants to do EVERYTHING on her own now – not yet recognizing which things are within her power to do and which are not.  As a result, everything has become a battle.  Getting dressed when she needs to, putting on coat and mittens, getting into the bicycle to go to school, putting on her seatbelt to go to school, and on and on.  Counting to 1 and talking about consequences has had no effect. Basically the only way I’ve shut down full-scale tantrums is to walk away.  Sometimes by the time I come back (30 seconds to a minute later), she has settled down and will let me help her.  Sometimes I have to walk away again.  And again.   This trend certainly tested our limits when we were on vacation to England last week (check out the photos by following the Flickr link to the right).  During one tantrum, she laid full out on the floor of an Underground (Tube) station. One thing I have to say about parenthood is that it strips you of any sense of public shame.  People stared.  People probably talked.  But, what was I to do?  I had to be a parent.

But, let’s not end on that note.  Please check out the video at this link – I love it because it shows so many aspects of Kahlilah right now: her independence, her interest in talking/singing/chanting, her facial expressions.  For those who don’t speak Spanish, the video shows Albert, Kahlilah and I practicing a Chilean chant used at sporting events as well as a similar chant for the USA.   Enjoy!

*En Zo roughly translates to “and such” in Dutch. There are so many stores here that use that phrase in their name; there’s Kaas en Zo (Cheese and Such), Haar en Zo (Hair and Such), Vis en Zo (Fish and Such), and so on…er, I mean, en zo.

Ah, chocolate.  Some many ways to enjoy you.  I have to admit that, normally, I may be a bit high-brow in my choice of chocolate.  I blame my mother.  Her truffles set such a high bar that I feel a responsibility to try truffles where ever I go, if only to prove that–yes–mama knows and does best.  But, here in the Netherlands, hagelslag lets me enjoy chocolate like a kid.

Hagelslag are basically chocolate sprinkles, or jimmies as some people call them.  Not so foreign, perhaps, but in this case it’s not the food that is foreign but rather the use of it.  Rather than sprinkling it on top of ice cream as Americans do, the Dutch–adults and children alike–eat it on top of bread and butter, sometimes even making a sandwich of it, for breakfast and often for lunch!(This delectable photo is from the blog The Eaten Path, which also has a great post on this phenomena.)

Hagelslag, which in Dutch is based on the word for “hail”, comes in many different flavors and colors. In particular, the blue or pink ones are used upon the birth of a child. It also comes in different price points, as they say: there’s both cheap hagelslag and high-quality hagelslag.  For example, I learned online that “only hagelslag with a cacao percentage of more than 35 can bear the name chocolat hagelslag. If the percentage is under the 35%, it has to be called cacao fantasy hagelslag.”  Cacao fantasy?  Hilarious. So, when I tried it, I went for a good brand in a dark chocolate version.  I also followed recommendations and used white bread as the base (why, really, try to convince yourself that this is anything but dessert by using whole-wheat?), toasted and buttered it, and ate it immediately after the hagelslag had just slightly melted.  And, the verdict?

Lekker!!!  ”Lekker” means “delicious” in Dutch and I really can’t think of another word in any language that more perfectly sounds like it should mean delicious.  Take a second and say it out loud:  ˈlɛ.kər.  Doesn’t it have a nice smacking feel?  When I first learned the word lekker in the Fast Dutch course I took before moving here, I immediately loved it.  To me, words like lekker seem like they should be universal–should cross languages and cultures–because how they feel in your mouth when you say them or how they sound in your ear when you hear them bring to mind their meaning exactly.  Another word I’ve come across like this is “kwan.” It’s a word used in a number of Filipino languages and it means “thing” and particularly something that you may have temporarily forgotten.  So, in English, it might better translate as “whatchamacallit” rather than just “thing.”  In addition you can modify kwan to mean a person’s name that you’ve forgotten, the equivalent of “what’s-his-name.” I love that word!  And, when I was trying to learn Cebuano while living in the Philippines, I REALLY loved it–what’s not like to like about a word that let’s you cover up that you don’t remember vocabulary you should have learned already while at the same time sounding like a local?!?  (Have you come across any words that you’ve loved precisely because they sound/feel like what they mean? If so, please post in the Comments–I’d love to learn more.)

So, there you have it folks, lekkere hagelslag – this month’s feature foreign food.  I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed “researching” it.

I think the best way I can share it is to take you through the day with me, hour by hour, and post a few of the photos I took.  Notice the contrasts in experiences. (Also, given that I had to resort to profanity in the first three sentences of this post, you might rightfully assume that this post is not for the kiddos.)

8:00am – Got Kahlilah fed, dressed and out to the Tram stop to go to school. Thought I was about to get a second-hand high from the gentleman toking it up in the Tram stop. But didn’t, since the young man–being a considerate fellow–walked down the road a bit while we all waited for the Tram to arrive.

9:00am – Dropped Kahlilah off at school and then caught the Tram again to go to Amsterdam Centrum, where I hoped to catch some cultural sights I hadn’t seen yet.

9:15am – While trying to find my way to the Oude Kerk (“Old Church”), passed by an eye-grabbing window display. I learned it was for the Condomerie, the world’s first condom specialty store.  Was particularly entertained by their “seasonal”  items. (I didn’t know Rudolph the Red-nose Reindeer was such a lady’s man.)

9:20am – Continued on down the street but had to turn back to follow a positively divine smell of chocolate.  Found myself in a cafe that served THE best hot chocolate I’ve had since a trip to southern Chile back in 2003. It was the super thick European kind, that is a bit bitter and so rich that you can only drink the smallest cup of it or you’ll be buzzing all day.  (The whip cream on top helped cut the richness, though!)

9:25am – Found the Oude Kerk, the oldest surviving building in all of Amsterdam–from 1306. But, since it was still closed that early in the morning, decided to continue on to Nieuwe Markt. As I was walking around the Oude Kerk, I looked up to take in its impressive bell tower.  Then I looked down to see where I was walking and thought, in the split second that I had, that’s a interesting-looking mannequin in the store window. Just then, a pigeon flew up from the ground in front of me, scaring the bejesus out of me. I jumped back, causing the “mannequin” (who was actually a sexworker taking a nap standing upright in her red-light district window) to open her eyes and jump back in fear from the window. She and I looked at each other and then we both started laughing hysterically at how scared we had both been. We laughed for a minute together (although we couldn’t actually hear each other since the glass was between us), and then I smiled, waved and continued on my way.

(Side note: When I read in the guide that the red-light district was near the Oude Kerk, I didn’t know they meant THAT near. I guess in the 700 some years that have passed, the neighborhood has changed a bit.)

9:30am – Found the Nieuwe Markt (“New Market”) which is described by the Lonely Planet as “a district as historic as anything you’ll find in Amsterdam” where “Rembrandt painted landscapes.” Decided to have a coffee in the “imposing, fairytale” Waag (“Weigh-house”), the oldest existing fortification in Amsterdam. Built in 1488 and decorated with candles and garlands for the season, it was an extremely pleasant place for a morning pick-me-up.

10:00am – Left the Waag to walk to the Museum het Rembrandthuis, passing numerous ladies of the…morning who were advertising their services in their scarlet-lit windows.

10:30am – Enjoyed walking through the house where Rembrandt van Rijn lived  from 1639-1658, painted and sold his and others’ paintings…before he declared bankruptcy and was forced to move out and sell everything he owned. While most of the art hanging in the house was actually by Rembrandt’s contemporaries or students, saw the Museum’s collection of almost every one of the etchings Rembrandt made.

11:30am – Left the Museum to walk back to the Oude Kerk, passing numerous sex shops and sex show venues. While passing one of the bondage-themed stores’ window displays, saw Santa Claus in a way I would very much like to forget.

11:45am – On the way, was once again drawn into a shop by the smell of chocolate, this one selling truffles. Ate one of the best truffles I’ve ever had, after my mom’s of course – a milk chocolate-honey number.

12:00pm – Toured the Oude Kerk. Particularly enjoyed reading the translations of some of the “morals” carved into the choir stalls. Always interesting to learn what people centuries ago warned against – sometimes they are the same things we struggle with today and sometimes they are totally foreign to today’s concerns.

12:30pm – Took in the statue dedicated to sexworkers, which (of course?) is located in front of the Oude Kerk.

12:35pm – Found a nice lunch spot next to the Nieuwe Kerk, the next place on my list of places to see that day. Saw the Nieuwe Kerk (“New Church”), a late 15th century Gothic basilica that–now secularized–is home to Dutch coronations and rotating exhibitions. That day, they had an exhibition on Jewish historical artifacts–including a segment of the Dead Sea Scrolls!

1:30pm – Walked to the Negen Stratjes (“Nine Little Streets”)  to explore an area known for individual, quirky shops, from 50s vintage clothing and light fixtures to high-end shoes and jewelry to tasty cafes and cheese shops. In particular, tried cheese at the Reypenaer, a cheese shop that offers tastings in their dedicated tasting rooms where you can learn to appreciate different cheese as you do wine. Couldn’t join a tasting that day, so just shamelessly devoured the free samples.

3:00pm – Took the Tram back to pick up Kahlilah and return home for the day.

What. a. day.  Only in Amsterdam.

I could talk about how I didn’t study another language until high school, how I didn’t really learn another language (Spanish) until my mid-20s when I did an immersion program in Mexico and did my thesis research in Ecuador, how even then my vocabulary was largely focused on words related to going out to clubs (Mexico) and agriculture and the environment (Ecuador), or how I’m a first-time mom.  But none of these things are the main reason why I’ve been struggling so much recently with how to raise Kahlilah bilingually. It’s the books and experts! Why must every one I read or hear contradict the one previous to it?!?!

When I was pregnant and we had just entered the Foreign Service life, we took a seminar at the Foreign Service Institute on raising children bilingually. That was my first time thinking about the issue in any real way. Since my husband is a heritage Spanish speaker and much of his extended family still lives in Chile, we knew we wanted our children to speak both English and Spanish fluently. But, how? The lesson I took away from that seminar was that one-parent-one-language (OPOL) is the best approach. That is, one parent speaks one language exclusively with the child and the other parent speaks another language exclusively with the child. We read a little bit more on bilingualism, and those books seemed to back up OPOL.

So, we went with OPOL from Kahlilah’s birth. I felt great about it. It was easy, since all I had to do was speak the language I knew best. And it was consistent with what experts who talked to career expats like us advised. I’ll admit it: I felt almost smug with how well it seemed to be working out at first. (Of course, that was before Kahlilah began saying anything more than “ba, ba, ba,” but I’m getting ahead of myself.)  I did however become aware of one major challenge pretty quickly: I knew that Kahlilah got way more English with me than Spanish with Albert since, for the first year, I was home with her all the time. But, we quickly adapted. In her second year, we supplemented her language exposure by having a Spanish-only-speaking nanny care for her while I worked 20 hours per week at the Embassy.  At that point, Kahlilah wasn’t speaking a lot but she had a pretty good balance of Spanish and English words.

But then, when Kahlilah was almost 2 years old, we finished our post in Caracas and moved back to DC for Albert to complete language training in preparation for our next post here in Amsterdam. Again, we worked hard to try to keep a balance of languages. In particular, we made the decision to bring Albert’s aunt from Chile to care for Kahlilah while I took a few months of Dutch and a Consular course as well.  Since Albert’s aunt only speaks Spanish, Kahlilah had 40+ hours per week of Spanish exposure for several months. Plus, during that time, Kahlilah was lucky to spend a lot of time with Albert’s mom who speaks only Spanish with her as well. Despite all that effort, I started to notice that Kahlilah was starting to inch towards English dominance.

Well, then, we moved to Amsterdam and a number of things happened. First, Kahlilah was with me all the time. Second, Kahlilah started having a spoken language explosion while, at the same time, exhibiting more and more English dominance. It was clear that Kahlilah understood a lot of Spanish but rarely produced it herself. Third, Albert and I were considering preschools for Kahlilah. Should we put her in a Dutch-only, Dutch-English, or English-only preschool, we wondered?  If we went with either the first or second option, we’d go from considering bilingual issues to multilingual issues! Argh. At that point, I started to look for some guidance in books. In particular, I read Bilingual Edge. These are some of the points that I took from it: (1) OPOL isn’t always the best approach, particularly if there isn’t a balance of time between both parents. (2) In fact, sometimes you need to overcompensate with time for the “minority” language over the “majority” language. (The “majority” language is the dominant language spoken in your country/culture.) They recommended that parents speak to their child roughly 80% of the time in the minority language and 20% of the time in the majority language. Their rationale was that the child will get other exposure to the majority language through other outlets, e.g. playmates, teachers, TV. (3) A parent can speak another language with the child even if s/he is not a native or fluent speaker. And (4), you can have different bilingual or multilingual goals–all of which are legitimate. For example, some parents might really want a child to become fluent. That’s a fine goal. Other parents might want to expose the child to another language to “hardwire” the child’s brain for learning that or other languages in the future. That’s okay too.  Or yet other parents may simply want to expand the child’s awareness of other cultures. Also fine.

So, after talking it over with Albert and mulling it over, I decided to go Spanish. I would start speaking with Kahlilah in Spanish as much and as consistently as I could and, in essence, make Spanish our family’s language. It was really difficult at first. It felt odd speaking to Kahlilah in Spanish. It felt even more odd talking to Albert in Spanish, as English has been the primary language of our relationship for the past eight years. And, I realized I needed more (and specialized) vocabulary FAST to be able to handle toddler issues.  I quickly picked up clean-up related vocabulary  (e.g. bookshelves, drawer, dresser) and recently picked up holiday-related words (e.g. sleigh, elves, reindeer).  Within a couple weeks, it felt more natural and I was making progress on my Spanish. (It struck me as so funny: I was improving my Spanish more while living in the Netherlands, than in the two years I had just lived in Caracas, Venezuela!) And, as for the school, we decided to go with the Dutch-English preschool. It was the school where we felt the most at home, it follows the Montessori approach which we wanted,  and it would expose Kahlilah to a Germanic language, with the goal not necessarily being fluency but simply exposure to another language group with its own unique sounds.

So, what’s happened? The results, please. I find that relatively quickly Kahlilah has started to produce a few more words in Spanish voluntarily but, a month into it, she still is clearly English dominant. I know, I know. I’ve been speaking to her in English for nearly three years so we’re not going to see changes that quickly. But, I think I’m more sensitive to her English dominance now that I’m making such an effort to speak in Spanish to her. I also find that I’m still confronted almost daily with contrasting opinions on how best to handle this bilingual/multilingual childrearing issue.  Just before  putting Kahlilah in the preschool, I was told by an administrator that it really wasn’t valuable to put a child into a Dutch-English bilingual program if we were going to be moving in a couple years anyway. What?!?! I thought you’d be with me on this? Errr. Then a couple days after joining the school, a teacher reminded me to make sure not to switch back and forth that much between Spanish and English, that I really needed to be consistent.  I know, alright! I’m trying!!!  And, finally, I just know that some of you reading this blog post who are also raising your child bilingually probably have read something different and are thinking, “Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong, Chela! You need to read X book.”  Ahhhhhh! (By the way, I DO welcome book recommendations and other tidbits of advice. But I can’t promise I’ll look at them this week. This week I feel like screaming!) So, that’s where I am now with it.  For now, yo hablo español.

Earlier this year, I went to a massage. A quarter of the way through, I started to feel emotion welling up and tears slid down from beneath my closed lids.  I said to the masseuse:  People say that certain positions in yoga can release emotion. Is it the same with massage? He replied: It’s not certain positions of the body necessarily but rather that touch can be very emotional.  This time, I believe, the tears were telling me something very different. They helped me recognize my sadness.

I lost my grandmother—my last living grandparent—just a few weeks before that happened.

People often ask:  Were you with her?  And the answer is, yes, I had the gift of being with her.

I was with her before she passed.  Said all that I wanted to say to her, embraced her, locked eyes with her and told her I loved her, and held my daughter to her face so that she could kiss her.

And I was there when she passed.  There, in that long, hushed moment.

Both experiences were gifts. I truly, truly feel lucky to have been able to be there.

When I lost my other grandmother, almost three years ago this coming week, I was also there.  That was the first time I realized how special it is to be able to be with someone at the moment of their death.  Just as special, really, as it is to be with someone at the moment of their birth.  Both–birth and death—bring such exquisite pain and love.  The moments that my grandparents shared with me in the final passing of their lives both haunt and comfort me.

So, this week, I think especially of my grandparents.  I give thanks for the many gifts—through their life and death—that they shared with us.

When I began to travel internationally in earnest, in my mid-20s, my interest in out-of-the-ordinary fruits and vegetables really took off but, really, it had already been piqued. It happened when I took an ecology class in undergrad where I learned about centers of diversity which, I recently was reminded, are “geographic area(s) wherein the plant exhibits the highest degree of variation” and which often occur where plants originate.  In particular, I remember hearing that there were thought to be a couple thousand varieties of the potato in the Andes, where it originated.  And, as a lover of potatoes, I remember thinking that I needed to get on a plane to Ecuador immediately.  My interest was solidified though when, for another course, we took a field trip to Seed Savers — an organization based in Iowa dedicated to preserving and sharing heirloom seeds. I think it was the first time I heard about heirloom varieties, or plants that are passed down within a family, and for sure it was when I realized, “Now that’s why an eggplant is called an egg-plant.” The diversity of plants they had there was incredible and their mission impressive. It almost made me want to become a gardener. But I’m not quite there yet (sorry, mom).

But, to get back to the post at hand…The Romanesco, which I tried this past week, may not have the bizarre taste to warrant its own segment on the Bizarre Foods TV show, but it definitely has the looks for it and the science behind it.  First of all, which you can see already from the photo, it’s a brilliant chartreuse color that catches your attention immediately.  Second,  and this is where my nerdiness comes out (as if it hasn’t already been on full display), it’s a natural fractal.  Fractal forms, I’ve recently learned, are “complex shapes which look more or less the same at a wide variety of scale factors.”  So, basically, the large cones you can see spiraling out in the photo are made up of identical smaller, smaller and yet smaller cones. Third, because of its strange looks, it often goes by different names: some call it a cabbage, a broccoli, or a cauliflower. While it apparently is relatively common to see on the grocer’s shelf in Europe during the fall season, particularly in Italy which is its center of origin (ha! got to bring that back in), I certainly haven’t seen it or heard much about it in the States.  As a result, I was all the more excited to try it when I saw it here in Amsterdam – despite the $5/head price. And, so, we come to preparation and taste. I decided to keep it simple and just steam it like I would cauliflower or broccoli and add a bit of butter and salt. Maybe that was my mistake since, after all the anticipation, it just tasted like cauliflower.  There were no moments of agony or ecstasy that would call for a camera zoom-in to me eating the first bite.  It was nice but just…okay.  I guess now I see why Bourdain and Zimmern stick to tongue and testicles for ratings.

The stroopwafel (in Dutch, syrup waffle) has a couple competing “origin” stories–like, it seems, many delicious foods that are simple in concept yet instantly and wickedly addicting (see the varied invention stories for the American hamburger, including one from my home state of Wisconsin). Here are the stories as explained by my friend Wikipedia, who at the beginning of the piece says the stroopwafel originated specifically in 1784 and then goes on to give a fuzzier timeframe:

The stroopwafel originates from Gouda in the Netherlands. It was first made during the late 18th century or early 19th century by a baker using leftovers from the bakery, such as breadcrumbs, which were sweetened with syrup. One story ascribes the invention of the stroopwafel to the baker Gerard Kamphuisen, which would date the first stroopwafels somewhere between 1810, the year when he opened his bakery, and 1840, the year of the oldest known recipe for syrup waffles. In the 19th century, there were around 100 syrup waffle bakers in Gouda, which was the only city in which they were made until 1870. After 1870 they were also made at parties and in markets outside the city of Gouda. In the 20th century, factories started to make stroopwafels. 

Now, they can be found everywhere–both in the Netherlands and back home in the States, where I saw them at Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and Yes! Organics in the DC area. But, the very best place to get them is in an open-air market where the scent of the baking waffle and melting caramel spool you in slowly but surely.  But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

What exactly is a stroopwafel, you may be asking?  Well, it is basically stiff batter that is pressed very thin (I’d guesstimate no thicker than a half centimeter) on a cross-haired waffle iron, cut in half (I really need to see how they do this because I highly doubt I’d have the finesse to cut something so thin), spread with a special filling (traditionally caramel), then stuck back together and preferably served to you warm, in a paper sleeve to catch the gooey goodness that may squeeze out as you’re devouring it.  What I love the most about it is the texture.  The outside is rather chewy because of the type of dough and then, after your teeth slowly break through the waffle, all of a sudden you get to the softness of the caramel.

I was first given a stroopwafel by a Dutch teacher while in language class back in DC.  If I recall correctly, she was apologetic that it was just the grocery-store brand. I remember thinking it was absolutely delicious.  Then we were invited to go the Dutch Embassy in DC to celebrate Queen’s Day (something akin to our Independence Day) and they had a stroopwafel vendor making them fresh under the tent.  I still remember being on the opposite side of the plaza and first smelling the stroopwafel scent waft over the party.  And, after trying one fresh-off-the-iron, I remember thinking I have to get more of these…now. I’m not saying how many I ate at the party.  I wasn’t too diplomatic.  Next I started to notice them at grocery stores in the DC area and specifically started to be introduced to their variations: the organic stroopwafel, the maple stroopwafel (a Vermont company’s version), the mini stroopwafel. (Side note: while surfing the web in preparation for writing this post, I also came across a cocoa caramel stroopwafel which you can order online from a company in the States and a smore’s stroopwafel–say what?!?)

All of the stroopwafels I tried were good, but nothing compared to my first bite of actual-Dutch-market-fresh-off-the-iron stroopwafel which I had on our first outing outside of Amsterdam. (See the happy smile on my face in the photo? And that was just the anticipation of the first bite! Then there’s Kahlilah who’s knows what’s what and isn’t waiting for us to take the photo before she digs in.)  Divine.  Now, I read online that the Dutch commonly eat stroopwafels for breakfast with their coffee or tea (I can’t confirm or deny this since we haven’t been invited over to any Dutch neighbors for breakfast yet) and of course at the market.  As for us, these are so sinfully addicting that I think I’m going to stick to just eating them when I visit an open-air market.  That seems sensible, right?  Except for the fact that we’ve visited a different market practically every weekend we’ve been here.  Oh well.  I had to do research to write this post, after all.

Best of all, we’ve been able to truly move in to our apartment.  Last Wednesday we received our HHE–household effects–which we last saw in Caracas 9 months ago.  And, one week later, I can finally see the floor again!  When we hang a few paintings this weekend it will really feel like home.  Because I was so focused on organizing and putting things away, I really went AWOL  in terms of this blog.  But, luckily, what I’ve been thinking  for the past couple weeks can be easily summed up in one word:  Seriously???

I swear that almost every day I’m here I see or experience something so beautiful, historical, or coolly cultural that I have to chuckle to myself and ask “Is this seriously happening?”  Here are some examples from just one outing.  Before our HHE arrived, I took Kahlilah to Vondelpark for the first time.  It’s known as the best park in Amsterdam, and I was excited to find out that it’s just a 15-20 minute walk away.  On the way there, I found myself walking through a really cool neighborhood with funky clothing shops, friendly corner (organic) grocers, long-established butchers and bakers (unfortunately no candle-stick makers), with a 100+-year-old chocolate shop thrown in for good measure.  I wandered into one of the grocers and saw a vegetable I’d never seen before.  As one blogger described it when I Googled the name, Romanesco: it’s “an alien looking lime-green cauliflower.”  I couldn’t stop looking at it and wanted to buy one, but the $5-per-head price kept me a window shopper for that day.  (If you’ve read any of my past blogs on foreign fruits and foods, you know that these kinds of discoveries give me inordinate pleasure.  I know I’m going to break down soon and pay the price to try it.)

Anyway, after indulging in a few chocolates instead, we finally made it to the park.  When we got there, I was immediately captivated by the beautiful bridges and all the trails (paved for the bikers and gravel for the pedestrians)–some leading to wide, open grassy fields where dogs run unleashed, others to small, quiet ponds where fellow parents enjoyed feeding the ducks with their kids, and yet others to great, natural playgrounds.  After arriving at the playground with Kahlilah, I was already impressed with the park and tried to call Albert who was at work to tell him about the amazing outing I was having.  Then, I had my final Seriously??? moment of the day …As Kahlilah was climbing on one of the jungle gyms, one of the other parents started to play an accordion.  Now, having a live accordion concert in the playground may sound weird but this guy played beautiful, haunting Eastern-European songs.  It was amazing.

Seriously, I live here???  I’m so thankful.

There’s been so much to take in during our first week in the Netherlands so, rather than try to write a cohesive post that tries to pull it all together, I’ve decided just to share a hodgepodge of our impressions and experiences.

• We landed, walked to immigration and realized the stewards hadn’t given us any immigration forms.  Looking around, we realized there were no immigration forms to fill out!  We just had to walk up to the immigration official, hand over the passports and state the purpose of our visit.  How easy!  (This approach would have come in handy in the past when I had to balance a lightly sleeping baby in one arm while I fumbled to open my bag to get my passport and pen and then fill out the form with the wrong hand.)  We then proceeded to the luggage area, where our bags were waiting for us.  I know this may not sound earth-shattering but–compared to other places where there were long, mysterious waits–it was a welcome change.  So, all in all, a very easy airport experience.
• A person from the Consulate met us to lead us to the car and drive us to our apartment. When I say “lead,” I mean it because we did a lot of trailing far behind.  This, I’ve found, is typical for me here.  I thought I was a fast walker.  I come from a line of short ladies with quick gates and I grew up with tall friends, so I thought I was a fast walker.  Not so much here.  I walk as fast as I can, and I’m still always 10 paces behind.  I guess that’s what happens when you combine the world’s tallest people and a culture where people walk and bike everywhere they go.  Well, to look on the positive, I’ve already lost weight in the 7 days we’ve been here!
• We knew our apartment had only two bedrooms, which we thought would make balancing visitors and providing space for Kahlilah to sleep and play a bit of a challenge, but upon arriving we found them spacious with big beautiful windows.  So, overall, we’re more than content with the place–its compact size makes it manageable to clean (always a challenge with two dogs and a toddler) and really quite homey.  But, most of all, we LOVE the location.  Two minutes to the tram stop, which takes you directly to the city center.  Five to ten minutes walk to a grocery store, several yummy cheese shops, an amazing bread place, a to-die-for chocolate shop, a useful home goods store and gorgeous clothing stores to window shop.  And, perhaps best of all, one minute to the nearest canal.  Somehow walking the dogs at sunrise or sunset becomes a lot less of a chore and much more of a pleasure now that I have a canal to walk along.
• The parks.  Oh, the parks.  Love, love, love them!  The first time we walked to Beatrixpark, the nearest park to us, we stopped at the sign near the entrance to find the location of the dog area (which a friendly Dutch neighbor had told us about).  Another friendly Dutch person stopped and told us, “You know you can let the dogs off the leash now. They can be off leash in the entire park.”  Timidly, we did so–it seemed like both us and the dogs were hesitant at first, not having such a luxury since who knows when but then–they were off.  It was pure joy to see them run full out, explore as they wished, and then find and make friends with other dogs.  I think that, just as we will be a lot more active while living here, so will our dogs!
• Besides the amenities for the dogs, parks here also have great play areas for Kahlilah. I have started to notice a few differences in playground equipment that are quite interesting.  First, there are HUGE sandboxes.  The one nearest us is probably at least 20′ by 20′.  Then there are swings that look like giant eagles’ nests, that allow many children to pile on together.  Finally, there are lots of naturally-constructed jungle gyms and forts.  Some are made with giant logs and others with big sticks.  It gives kids a chance to scramble around and climb like kids used to in the countryside.  (It occurred to me that studying playgrounds in different countries would be a great anthropological study but, for now, I’ll just really enjoy them!)
• Well, time is getting short now for writing (Kahlilah is almost done with her Pooh video), so I’ll conclude by sharing that what I enjoy most here is the FREEDOM to explore so freely and easily.  A big change since our last post.  I can use the trains and trams.  I can walk.  I can get from one side of the city to the other with ease and without suffering in traffic.   And, oh the places to explore!  So far, we’ve rambled about the City Centrum, the Western Canal Belt, the Museumplein, and the Old South where we live.  We have a lot left to go but the good news is that we have two years to do it!

First and foremost is location, both for us and for visitors (who, from what we’ve been hearing, will be numerous). Now, rather than having to get on a tram, I can just walk with Kahlilah to the nearest park, kids yoga studio (seriously, there’s one near us that offers something they call “Itsy Bitsy” yoga), or Montessori school. Albert can walk to work (20 minutes or so). And our visitors can walk or take a tram to Amsterdam’s main attractions. Not to mention that we live a block and a half from a canal–what can get more quintessentially Amsterdam than that?  And, although we expected to have less space if we lived in Amsterdam proper, from the looks of the photos we actually have a pretty nicely sized apartment.

What I love about the apartment, from what I can tell from the photos, is…

•  Hardwood floors throughout.  Great for cleanup, particularly with the dogs.  And, they’re just beautiful.
• Big windows.  That’s really crucial for me since, growing up in the country, I got used to having lots of light and air through the home.  And, given how rainy and far north we’ll be, getting every ounce of sunlight possible will be important.
• A spacious kitchen with a WINDOW, a GAS stove and DISHWASHER. I love cooking and I spend a lot of time in the kitchen so that room is really important to me. In Caracas, we had a huge window in the kitchen and I loved it. It made the space more cheery, and it helped if I needed to aerate Also, I grew up cooking on gas and that’s what I really prefer, so I’m so happy to get back to cooking with it. And, the dishwasher–what can I say? After 2 years of living without one, it’ll be a luxury to have one again.
• A balcony. We didn’t have an outdoor space in the last three apartments we lived, and I really missed it. So I am so thankful that, despite this being a second floor apartment, we still get the chance to be outdoors. If you notice in the photo, there are trees just next to the balcony.  That’s because the apartment complex is like a big hollow rectangle with the buildings as the rectangle frame and a small park as the rectangle interior. It’s nice that we have so much green to look at!
• A big bath tub. We have a toddler. Enough said.

Finally, we come to the location. One of the things I struggled the most with in Caracas was the lack of public spaces and places that I could visit–either on my own or with my family–that were safe and accessible. I have both in Amsterdam. We live 10-20 minutes from the top three parks in the city.  The closest, Beatrixpark, is described as the “clean park” and the one that has the most low-key, neighborhood feel.  When I saw the photos of it, I cried. I did. It’s just so idyllic and so what I wanted to take Kahlilah to when we were in Caracas but couldn’t.  Also, for me personally, I’ve already found a couple potential yoga studios near our apartment and even a belly dancing class (something I’ve been meaning to take for years now).  And, for you visitors of ours, we also live 25 minutes from Museumplein where many of the major museums are located and a half-hour by tram to Amsterdam Center where sites like the Anne Frank House are located.