Being a teenager is both scary and exciting. Makes me sound old, but I like teenagers. I liked being one. Most of the time. I love working with them even more. When you are about 15 or 16, you have a sense of maturity already that you never had before, yet you are also still a little boy or girl. It's this crazy world in which everything changes super fast. Like a field of precious flowers, beautiful and fragile at the same time.
I never had pizza until I was 15. It might not be my favourite food, but making it like from scratch and eating it fresh from the outside oven is pretty amazing pizza life. This morning I made the dough, let the yeast do its job. My dad prepared the oven, my sister baked a bread first and then the pizza went in. Cheap, authentic and so delicious.
This weekend is Halloween apparently. Here in the Netherlands it's getting bigger and bigger too. Scary costumes with blood, dead things and other horrible creatures. It's supposed to be fun and all, but I really don't see why. However, no one seems to make a problem out of this holiday. Well, I do have a problem with it and I don't like it at all.
I took today's picture when I was at the sea one last time during the summer. Well, it was September already, but it felt like summer. When do you get to wear shorts in September? When do you get to wear shorts in the Netherlands - period? I will remember that day as one of my favourite days in the year. I love the space, the wide open space and the fresh, salty air. Fine sand between your toes and in your food. No allergies, just clean air, blue skies and a calm sea.
Ernest Hemingway There are many things that I like about the autumn season. The way the sunlight is warm, soft and almost like gold. The trees slowly change into the most beautiful colours. It's the time of year for fires and making soups. But then it is also the time of year when the days get shorter, it gets colder and the trees eventually loose all the leaves. The autumn makes place for the winter.
While I am searching for new opportunities, writing more application letters and exploring various options, I am thinking about what I wanted to be when I was a little girl. Childhood memories fly by in my mind. I'm letting them pass by to guide me in making decisions about my next steps.I have always wanted to be a teacher. I also wanted to be mayor of a municipality in the north of the Netherlands. Literally no other reason than the awesome name of the place. I wanted to write books and be an artist. I don't think I wanted to be a dolphin trainer.
For the first time in my life, I can feel just a little bit what the man in the green hoodie feels. Just a tiny, tiny bit. Because I had a warm home to return to and he doesn't. He is stuck at the border of France in the jungle of Calais. Waiting. Stuck in illegality. Being illegal is a weird thing. Last week, when our visa was denied at the Ethiopian border, I was mainly angry. Disappointed. I completely understand the reason behind passports and borders, yet the rules and regulations sometimes seem so arbitrary and complex.
It's Monday morning. It's still dark outside. Do I wake up or do I turn around sleep some more. In general, I am more a morning person than an evening person. I tend to work more and concentrate better in the morning. So I get up, eat some breakfast and then get back to my room. I see my backpack. It finally arrived and is waiting to be unpacked.
I am still angry. I am not generally an angry person. To get me angry, things must go really wrong. In this case, it's a feeling of helplessness and not being in control. When I don't feel so great, I like to get back to my old Jane Austen collection book which I bought at a book stand a long time ago. Pride and Prejudice is my favourite. Lizzie and I are good friends by now I think.