- When two of my best blog buddies, Neal Kind and Catalina Blue, host a blog party, I can't stay behind. Especially not if the blog party is about reviewing 2014. I have to say I love 2014. It was a big year for me. I worried a lot about what 2014 was going to be like, but it turned out totally awesome!
It's an early edition of the College Experience this Christmas Eve. However, it wouldn't make any sense to post after Christmas. You see, Germans love Christmas. And since I not only study the German language, but also the German culture, this month was crowded with Christmas activities. Here's a short and sweet picture-filled post on my fourth month in college.
Part of the College Experience is getting your head stuffed with almost useless information. For me, this means I don't just learn German, I also have to learn about the culture and experience it. It's the experiencing part that's fun.
My class organised an excursion to Münster for a measly two college credits. The point of this excursion? See Münster and enjoy the Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas market). To be honest, I didn't love the city. But I loved the hot chocolate they sold at the Weihnachtsmarkt. Besides, who wouldn't trade a day of school for a day of Christmas shopping?
We saw more Dutch school kids than Germans in Münster, but the Germans we saw at the train station were awesome: they were handing out free advent calenders :) Studying German has its advantages.
A few days after the Christmas excursion we had a Weihnachtsfeier (Christmas celebration) at college with all the freshmen and sophomore (plus one junior and a nine-months old baby from one of my classmates). Everyone had brought food, we played silly games and ate way to much (at least I did). Most of the peoplewere dressed in red and black, some people were wearing Christmassy hats and even the teachers were in an extremely good mood. For once, no one talked about grades and papers :)
So you see, college isn't all about hard work all the time. Sometimes it's about having fun with your friends around. Have yourself an awesome Christmas ;)
It's the most wonderful time of the year, they say. The holidays are just around the corner, there's no school to worry about and life really is a bit more wonderful than on a usual Monday. The city is full of light, music, Christmas trees... and tourists. You can't move an inch around town without bumping headfirst into a group of tourists. They are everywhere, here in Rotterdam, but also in deserted places like Death Valley and the Peruvian Andes. They are driving me crazy with their completely illogical behaviour... They make my blood boil, my fingers twitch...
'But, Envy,' you might say, 'that's just because they are impeding you while you're shopping for Christmas.'
True, they are impeding me. But I hate tourists all year round. Not all of them; some are awesome. Most, however, are downright terrible. Let me illustrate my point by telling about my visit to Colca Canyon, Peru. Fasten your seatbelts, I'm taking you on an imaginary trip with me to Cruz del Condor!
'But, Envy,' you might say, 'that's just because they are impeding you while you're shopping for Christmas.'
True, they are impeding me. But I hate tourists all year round. Not all of them; some are awesome. Most, however, are downright terrible. Let me illustrate my point by telling about my visit to Colca Canyon, Peru. Fasten your seatbelts, I'm taking you on an imaginary trip with me to Cruz del Condor!
A Normal Day At Cruz Del Condor
If you want to see the great condors fly at Colca Canyon, you have to wake up early. Only until noon do the condors fly at Cruz del Condor, only until noon are the winds in the canyon exactly perfect for condors to fly. So we wake up - at 5am. We get into the bus that will bring us from rural town Chivay to Cruz del Condor. Quite frankly, this will only take one hour or so. But when we arrive at the entrance of Colca Canyon, we find ourselves in a gigantic traffic jam. Bus after bus after bus full of tourists... Everyone is trying to get in first. This is the real reason we got up this early: the time-devouring tourist-traffic jam.
After inching our way to Cruz del Condor, the tour guide tells us something about condors. This is actually super interesting if you have the slightest bit of interest in condors. Sadly, most people on the bus don't. They're just here to brag about the fact that they'll have seen condors by the end of the day.
So we learn about condors and are abou to get off the bus. This is what we see.
Tourists are standing so close to the edge of the Canyon that it's a miracle nobody's falling down as we speak. But if we want to see condors, we'll have to get up there with all the others. We dive into the masses. Other tourists are touching us in places we really don't want them to touch us - intentional or not, we'll never know. Body odor is constantly attacking our nostrils and our toes have been crushed a thousand times by the time we get more or less close to the edge of the Canyon. By now you'll probably understand why I hate the creature called 'tourist'.
The tallest people from every busload are standing up front, as always, and I can't see a thing with my meagre 1.67m. I hope you do better, but by now I fear neither one of us will see a condor.
Meanwhile people complain that the condors might fly to fast to take a good picture. As if complaining will slow these animals down. Others, who've brought a camera with a lense the size of the Hubble telescope, laugh at me for having 'just 10 megapixels', while the best picture of a condor they'll take today will look a lot like this.
So we stand there, not even close to the edge of the Canyon, behind a crowd of bored tourists - they've been waiting for a full five minutes and haven't seen a condor yet. How dare those animals not show up within five minutes! Alas, nothing is happening, except for some fat Germans stepping on our toes once again.
Then, all of a sudden, I see a condor. I nudge you and point at it. We admire it in stunned silence - until the rest of the tourists discovers it. The crowd lets out a deafening roar: OMG LOOK IT'S A CONDOR IT'S FLYING OMG A CONDOR I HAVE TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THE FLYING CONDOR OMG IT'S STILL FLYING WOW IT FLIES IT'S A CONDOR AMAZING.'
The OMG's keep piercing our eardrums; it's almost as if no one ever expected to see a condor at Cruz del Condor. A thousand miniature Hubble telescopes are pointed toward the sky. We hear a thousand pictures being taken and feel the people behind us pushing us as to get closer to the condor. By now the poor animal has probably had a tiny heart attack. It flees behind a rock on the other side of the Canyon and disappears from view.
We have now seen our condor and I don't know about you, but I want to get out of the crowd before we're crushed to death. We slowly make our way bakc to the bus, which is blocked by a group of teenage girls. They won't step aside, because they have spotted a baby condor! Or so they think.
Remember the tour guide telling us all about condors? Well, she also told us you'll never see a baby condor fly by. They are too heavy, their wings can't support them. If they try to fly, they'll die. The average tourist will hear this information and forget it the second they get off the bus. And that's why we see these girls pointing at hummingbirds and calling them 'baby condors'.
Somehow we get back to our seats in the bus and leave the idiocy of the average tourist behind us. We'll go back to Chivay in half an hour. Slowly the other people from our group get back to the bus. Ten seconds before we leave, our tour guide notices one of the women is missing. You take a quick look out of the window and you've found her: she's standing in line for the toilet - along with about 50 other women. And she's not anywhere near the toilet yet.
Since this womam refuses to go back to the bus before she's been to the toilet, we wait. You fall asleep quickly and I also decide to take a nap. When we wake up we're back in Chivay, far away from all the touristy madness at Cruz del Condor. Just the way I like it.
Have I convinced you that tourists aren't awesome at all?
No? Believe me, one day you'll find out for yourself when you get stuck in a crowd of tourists ;)
Yes? Great! Then you'll probably also know what not to do the next time you're being a tourist.
Stay Awesome!
When I wrote my post about being Dutch, I would never have suspected that hagelslag would catch everyone's attention. Making fun of Belgians? Yes, I expected comments on that remark. Also on our national ice-skating obsession. But hagelslag? The chocolate and fruit flavored sprinkles I eat on my bread every day caused a tsunami of questions. How do you eat hagelslag? What do you eat with hagelslag? What kind of bread do you use? Well, people of the internet, fear not, for I shall present you: Envy's Ultimate Chocolate Sprinkle Sandwich Tutorial!
Now it's easy: put the hagelslag on the bread. Just as much as you want. If anyone says you're being unhealthy when eating a hagelsag sandwich, just point out that it's a Dutch habit. As far as I know, the Dutch are the tallest people in the world, hagelslag may just be the secret behind our tallness. The only reason to stop pouring hagelslag onto your bread is hagelslag directly falling off the bread.
Getting the Goods
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| The normal hagelslag and the specials |
So you wanna make a hagelslag sandwich? Then you'll have to make one important decision: fruit-flavored or chocolate sprinkles? I presonally recommend the chocolate sprinkles (hence the name 'Envy's Ultimate Chocolate Sprinkle Sandwich'), but the fruit-flavored ones are great too.
There are several brands of hagelslag in the Netherlands. Most popular and known are the sprinkles from De Ruijter. They have sprinkles in every shade of chocolate from white to the bitterest black. There's also Venz, who aim more at kids: they often add little chocolate figurines to the mix.
My Mom always buys one of the cheaper and unknown brands. To be honest: they all taste delicious. I can't tell the difference between Venz and hagelslag from the Lidl. She switched brands almost two years ago and I didn't notice until... this very morning. So whatever brand you can get your hands on: it'll taste great!
Make that Sandwich!
The first thing you do is getting yourself a slice of bread. Or a bun. Or a roll. Whatever kind of bread is at hands. There are no restrictions whatsoever when it comes to the type of bread. BUT, and this is a big but, you can never ever EVER toast the bread! Don't even think about doing that!
So we have a normal slice of bread here, the kind most Dutchies eat for breakfast. Next we'll put some butter on it. Without butter the hagelslag will end up everywhere except for inside your mouth, which is exactly the place where you want all those delicious sprinkles to go. So we put butter on the bread. Not too much, 'cause we want to taste chocolate, not butter.
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| Note: there's not supposed to be a hole in your bread like in mine |
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| Because it's almost Christmas we have a special kind of hagelslag today |
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| Cover every inch of that bread! |
You can choose how to eat the sandwich. My Dad just eats it like this. He takes tiny bites and loses quite some hagelsag along the way. I always fold the slice of bread in two and take huge bites. If you decide to eat the sandwich that way, you'll have to eat quick and have a firm grip on the bread; you don't want to be losing your sprinkles now that you can finally start eating!
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| Eat quickly, before the hagelslag escapes! |
Enjoyed your sandwich? Then why not spread a bit of this Dutch awesomeness by introducing your friends to the deliciousness of hagelslag? Whatever you do: Stay Awsome, Awesome like a Dutchman!
It's 2014. I'm at home, watching tv with my parents. The Christmas tree is full of ornaments and lights, presents lie around it, waiting for us to unwrap them. Everything is fine, everything will stay fine and we'll celebrate Christmas this way for many, many years.
December 1914. Another time, another place. It's cold in the trenches, bombs are falling everywhere and the Christmas spirit won't come to Europe this year. The soldiers on both fronts thought they'd be home by now. They thought the Great War would be fun and brief. They couldn't have been more wrong.
Back home their families wait for them, knowing they won't see their brothers, fathers and sons home this Christmas. Or next Christmas. Maybe theyear after that. Maybe not until Christmas 1918. Probably they'll never see them again...
The First World War fascinates me. It's the war that changed the essence of war itself. The Netherlands were completely neutral during this war, but less than 100km to the South, the Belgians were having a rough time. The Western front was very close the the town of Ypres. At the end of the war, there was very little left of this place.
Since it's exactly 100 years ago that the First World War started, I wanted to go to Ypres, where the fallen soldiers of this war are remembered every single day. I wanted to witness this ritual, and when I finally did, I was overwhelmed by the raw reality of the scars that WW I left on the face of Western Europe.
From Envy's Make it Happen List
#22: Witness "The Last Post" in Ypres, Belgium
Status: Awesomeness Achieved
I went to Ypres in October with my parents. We arrived there on a beautiful Autumn day. It was strange to see how peaceful the place is now, considering the tragedies that took place there just a century ago.
We went to the Menenpoort. This gate doesn't look very special on the outside. The inside, however, is covered with over 50.000 names of fallen soldiers whose bodies were never found. It's here, within the walls of this gat, that "The Last Post" ceremony takes place every night.
I read some of the names written on the inside of the gate. The lists were endless. The soldiers came from all over the world. Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Belgium of course...
I couldn't imagine how many people's bodies were never found.
There were Fishers there too. I'm probably not related to any of them, but suddenly the First World War came very, very close.
That night my parents and I joined the gigantic mass that went to the Menepoort for the Ceremony. Even though we came early the gate was almost too crowded to get in. I sneaked in somehow, wriggled my way towards the middle of the mass. We stood there, packed together so tightly that I couldn't see a thing. Then the sound of a single trumpet pierced the skies and everyone became quiet.
December 1914. Another time, another place. It's cold in the trenches, bombs are falling everywhere and the Christmas spirit won't come to Europe this year. The soldiers on both fronts thought they'd be home by now. They thought the Great War would be fun and brief. They couldn't have been more wrong.
Back home their families wait for them, knowing they won't see their brothers, fathers and sons home this Christmas. Or next Christmas. Maybe theyear after that. Maybe not until Christmas 1918. Probably they'll never see them again...
The First World War fascinates me. It's the war that changed the essence of war itself. The Netherlands were completely neutral during this war, but less than 100km to the South, the Belgians were having a rough time. The Western front was very close the the town of Ypres. At the end of the war, there was very little left of this place.
Since it's exactly 100 years ago that the First World War started, I wanted to go to Ypres, where the fallen soldiers of this war are remembered every single day. I wanted to witness this ritual, and when I finally did, I was overwhelmed by the raw reality of the scars that WW I left on the face of Western Europe.
From Envy's Make it Happen List
#22: Witness "The Last Post" in Ypres, Belgium
Status: Awesomeness Achieved
I went to Ypres in October with my parents. We arrived there on a beautiful Autumn day. It was strange to see how peaceful the place is now, considering the tragedies that took place there just a century ago.
We went to the Menenpoort. This gate doesn't look very special on the outside. The inside, however, is covered with over 50.000 names of fallen soldiers whose bodies were never found. It's here, within the walls of this gat, that "The Last Post" ceremony takes place every night.
I couldn't imagine how many people's bodies were never found.
There were Fishers there too. I'm probably not related to any of them, but suddenly the First World War came very, very close.
That night my parents and I joined the gigantic mass that went to the Menepoort for the Ceremony. Even though we came early the gate was almost too crowded to get in. I sneaked in somehow, wriggled my way towards the middle of the mass. We stood there, packed together so tightly that I couldn't see a thing. Then the sound of a single trumpet pierced the skies and everyone became quiet.
Many people snapped away with their cameras during the entire ceremony. I didn't. I listened to the trumpets, read the names written on the walls. And then it happened. Call me crazy, but...
I had goosebumps all over my body when I closed my eyes for a second. It was like all those soldiers whose names were written on the walls marched through the Menenpoort. The feeling didn't subside until the trumpet stopped blaring. Children put poppies down beneath one of the lists with names. Then the trumpet started again, and all those dead soldiers marched out of the city again. It was a warm night, but I was chilled to the bone as the moments went by while I couldn't help but feel the presence of the fallen...
Never forget the ones who died for your freedom. Respect them, honour them, like they do in Ypres. It's the least you can do to stay awesome.
I've done a lot of tags lately. In my opinion a little too many. After all, this is one of those blogs with random writings that doesn't fit into any of the common blogging categories. So today I'm not doing a tag, I'm not telling more about myself, no, I'm showcasing one of my poems again.
Last month I got positive feedback on something rather long. This month will be different. I wrote this after meeting one of my old friends at the bus stop. From that moment on, I prayed every Tuesday that I'd see him again at the bus stop. Then my timetable changed and... the odds weren't in our favour anymore.
*Note: the poem is inspired by real life, but not autobiographical.
Last month I got positive feedback on something rather long. This month will be different. I wrote this after meeting one of my old friends at the bus stop. From that moment on, I prayed every Tuesday that I'd see him again at the bus stop. Then my timetable changed and... the odds weren't in our favour anymore.
*Note: the poem is inspired by real life, but not autobiographical.
Will you meet me at the bus stop?
A pretentious poem by Envy Fisher
When I met you at the bus stop
It took me a split second
In the blink of an eye
I'd fallen in love with you
Long before the bus arrived
When I met you at the bus stop
I needed no one to tell me
That something between us wasn't right
Still I told you I loved you
Long before the bus arrived
When I met you at the bus stop
I couldn't accept it was over
Until you said your last goodbye
You left me there, heart-broken
Long before the bus arrived
When I didn't meet you at the bus stop
I just sat there and waited
Did nothing but cry
Whispered: 'I miss you'
Long before the bus arrived
Will you meet me at the bus stop?
It won't take long, a minute
Certainly no more than five
We'll talk it through, I promise
Long before the bus arrives
What public transportation can inspire...
I hoped you enjoyed reading this. If you did, I may be posting more of this stuff this month.
Stay Awesome!
I was very exctied to see that I was tagged for this one. Most of the time I feel like tags force you to answer awkward questions, but the quality of these things have gone up a lot over the past few months :) The Handwriting Tag is something I'd never expected to find on the internet, where looking at a video of a sleeping cat isactually more important than being able to spell the word 'cat'.
Anyway, I was tagged and had to write my questions by hand. Not a very big problem, except for the fact that I write in three different styles. The first one is the one I use when taking notes in class: totally illegible to anyone but me. Then there's the one I use for writing down ideas and quick notes to my Mom. According to her, this is almost as illegible as the first one.
And then there's the handwriting you see on my tests and in my blogging notebook. Straight, clear and totally decipherable! That's the one I'll be showing you in my Handwriting Tag :)
Stay Awesome!
Anyway, I was tagged and had to write my questions by hand. Not a very big problem, except for the fact that I write in three different styles. The first one is the one I use when taking notes in class: totally illegible to anyone but me. Then there's the one I use for writing down ideas and quick notes to my Mom. According to her, this is almost as illegible as the first one.
And then there's the handwriting you see on my tests and in my blogging notebook. Straight, clear and totally decipherable! That's the one I'll be showing you in my Handwriting Tag :)
Stay Awesome!
Tonight there'll be a knock on the door of many Dutch houses. Thousands of kids will run to the door to find a big bag full of presents, left there by Sinterklaas and his Zwarte Pieten.
For most people with little kids, Sinterklaas is an annual tradition, like Santa Claus in the States. I'm the youngest in my family and haven't celebrated Sinterklaas in over ten years. Still I look forward to this national holiday every year. When Sinterklaas comes to the country, he brings loads of food with him. Chocolate letters (I still get a chocolate E every year) and my personal favorite: kruidnoten!
Kruidnoten are basically pieces of speculaas. They are delicious. Literally translated their name would be 'spice nuts', which does not sounds delicous, but they really are!
According to the whole Sinterklaas saga, Zwarte Piet leaves kruidnoten in the shoes and nooks and crannies of the houses of children who have been nice all year. But when you're too old for Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet to come to your house, you'll have to buy them. Or you could bake them yourself!
It's easy. Very easy. Even I can do it, and I caused a black-out while baking cupcakes a year ago. You don't need much. And it's freaking delicious! Bring a little bit of the Dutch Sinterklaas tradition into your home this winter with this recipe!
You'll need:
You're gonna:
Stay Awesome!
For most people with little kids, Sinterklaas is an annual tradition, like Santa Claus in the States. I'm the youngest in my family and haven't celebrated Sinterklaas in over ten years. Still I look forward to this national holiday every year. When Sinterklaas comes to the country, he brings loads of food with him. Chocolate letters (I still get a chocolate E every year) and my personal favorite: kruidnoten!
Kruidnoten are basically pieces of speculaas. They are delicious. Literally translated their name would be 'spice nuts', which does not sounds delicous, but they really are!
According to the whole Sinterklaas saga, Zwarte Piet leaves kruidnoten in the shoes and nooks and crannies of the houses of children who have been nice all year. But when you're too old for Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet to come to your house, you'll have to buy them. Or you could bake them yourself!
It's easy. Very easy. Even I can do it, and I caused a black-out while baking cupcakes a year ago. You don't need much. And it's freaking delicious! Bring a little bit of the Dutch Sinterklaas tradition into your home this winter with this recipe!
You'll need:
- 250 grams of self raising flour
- 125 grams of brown sugar
- 100 grams of cream butter
- 50 milliliters of milk
- a pinch of salt
- 1.5 table spoons of speculaas spices
You're gonna:
- preheat the oven at 170 degrees Celsius.
- mix de butter until it's not one massive lump anymore. You've gotta mix it with the other ingredients, so make that stuff soft!
- use your hands! Add everything with the butter in a bowl and mix it until it's well mixed. Start out using the mixer (use those swirly things you use for making bread - my dictionary doesn't know the right word, neither does Google). After a while the mixer will have trouble kneading this dough, so continue by hand - which is much more fun anyway :)
- make tiny balls out of this dough. Put these on top of greaseproof paper on a baking try
- squish those balls! They have to be a bit like a dome before you put them in the oven, the shape they are in the pic below (though these have seen the heat of an oven already)
- put these things in the oven for 15 minutes, wait five more minutes for them to cool and...
- EAT EAT EAT EAT EAT
Stay Awesome!
As the rest of the blogosphere did what it usually does, I had serious trouble juggling my blogging career, my college career, social life (okay, maybe not that one, I quit being social the minute I discovered the internet) and athletics. College was all fun and games until the dreaded midterms/finals came up...
This year is divided in four parts. Each part is called a 'block'. There's eight weeks to a block. And a week full of tests and exams at the end of each block. It's actually a lot like my senior year in high school. However, I had no idea what to expect this time. Probably 20 German sentences for Syntax. A mere 1500 German words for Sprachtraining. A letter about my every day life for the same course. Oral examination for Spracherwerb. The theory behind teaching kids to read German texts for Fachdidaktik. And the worst one: Oh yes, 40 multiple choice questions on adolescent psychology and its effect on education for Preparing For Internship. I was very sure this week would mark the end of my college career.
Everyone, yes everyone, was totally freaking out. People stayed up all night to study. Then picked up their phones, neglected their books and complained that they had to study all night. People were telling eachother horror stories about how difficult it all was. About how they had no idea how to learn for every course at the same time.
I started to panick. It didn't help that G. had told me that I had to pass Preparing For Internship (PFI as we call it). Didn't pass PFI? Bad luck, not internship for you!
I went crazy. I dropped everything. I neglected my blog, I had tons of posts in mind that I couldn't write, I couldn't promote my blog or contest as much as I would've liked... It's was a rough month. The college experience became one big torture...
Now, two weeks later, I've got most results back. I passed PFI with 8.8 out of 10 points. Syntax with 9 out of 10. Fachdidaktik with 10 out of 10!
I passed all my exams with outstanding results. But I'm still not very happy. I've done too much this month. I have to slow down, reconsider my schedule and probably take a step back. College has my highest priority at the moment and I'm simply doing too much in my scarce free minutes.
What does that mean for Picking up the Pieces? Probably not very much. I'll find a way to keep posting as much as possible. I'm announcing the winner of my contest this Wednesday and I have two very Dutch posts prepared for you!
My sense of humor has more or less disappeared since I started thinking about what to write for this months College Experience post. Alas, I can't make it any more beautiful than it is at the moment. I'll do whatever it takes to keep on blogging! But if I disappear for a while, send a rescue team this way: I'll probably be buried under land slide of homework!
This year is divided in four parts. Each part is called a 'block'. There's eight weeks to a block. And a week full of tests and exams at the end of each block. It's actually a lot like my senior year in high school. However, I had no idea what to expect this time. Probably 20 German sentences for Syntax. A mere 1500 German words for Sprachtraining. A letter about my every day life for the same course. Oral examination for Spracherwerb. The theory behind teaching kids to read German texts for Fachdidaktik. And the worst one: Oh yes, 40 multiple choice questions on adolescent psychology and its effect on education for Preparing For Internship. I was very sure this week would mark the end of my college career.
Everyone, yes everyone, was totally freaking out. People stayed up all night to study. Then picked up their phones, neglected their books and complained that they had to study all night. People were telling eachother horror stories about how difficult it all was. About how they had no idea how to learn for every course at the same time.
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| Well, turning your phone of would help |
I went crazy. I dropped everything. I neglected my blog, I had tons of posts in mind that I couldn't write, I couldn't promote my blog or contest as much as I would've liked... It's was a rough month. The college experience became one big torture...
Now, two weeks later, I've got most results back. I passed PFI with 8.8 out of 10 points. Syntax with 9 out of 10. Fachdidaktik with 10 out of 10!
I passed all my exams with outstanding results. But I'm still not very happy. I've done too much this month. I have to slow down, reconsider my schedule and probably take a step back. College has my highest priority at the moment and I'm simply doing too much in my scarce free minutes.
What does that mean for Picking up the Pieces? Probably not very much. I'll find a way to keep posting as much as possible. I'm announcing the winner of my contest this Wednesday and I have two very Dutch posts prepared for you!
My sense of humor has more or less disappeared since I started thinking about what to write for this months College Experience post. Alas, I can't make it any more beautiful than it is at the moment. I'll do whatever it takes to keep on blogging! But if I disappear for a while, send a rescue team this way: I'll probably be buried under land slide of homework!