The Latest Addition to the Mohd Ali Clan.....

My eldest sister gave birth to her FIFTH child -a daughter - on 4th September - two days after my mom's birthday and two days before we flew to the Netherlands.
She was delivered around 4 in the morning and she looks much like her brother, Zaris (according to my mom, that is).
I was later informed her name, Mas Nurzafira Alya or Alya for short.
I really give EXTRA credit and much respect to my sister for raising four fine kids and now a new one.
I, even with one, am still grappling with motherhood and ironing out its kinks. Motherhood takes time. And loads of PATIENCE!
With Alya, my parents are now proud grandparents of 8 grandkids. (and another one on the way, God willing, for my twin sister)
And to Alya - hope to see you again when we get back home.....

More Pix @ Home in Delft

First week in Tulips, Clogs and Windmills (and Cows…) Land

As explained in my previous blog, we settled into our new home on Friday. By Sunday, the weather has turned warm and dry. It’s definitely not humid since we get easily parched whenever we step outside for our walks. From Monday to the following Saturday, the sunny condition helped to alleviate any pressure in adapting to the new environment, especially for Sadia.

On Monday, as I resumed my solo maternal duties at home, a few hiccups did occur. With Sadia now an avid beginner of crawling, I find attending to her whims and fancies at times nerve-racking. I think beforehand, I’ve been pampered by the fact that my husband is always around to take turns in holding or entertaining her whilst I do something else or take a much-needed break. Now, it’s full-time mommy duties until late at night when my husband comes back. On average, during the first week he comes home at 9-10 o’clock, with the exception of one night when he had forgone dinner with other fellow students. On Monday, I was only able to eat bread both for breakfast and lunch. On Tuesday, I was adamant to get something more nutritious and wholesome into my system. I went to Benjamin’s Bagel and Coffee – a café ran by what appeared to be, Indonesian-Dutch and got their tuna sandwich served on a bagel. This was followed, on Wednesday, by tuna sandwich on a ciabatta in Hema, a specialty store not dissimilar to IKEA, save for their ‘slightly’ more expensive price range and the fact they sell toiletries, clothes and stationeries. Oh yeah, the store doesn’t sell furniture though. Wait a minute – it’s a mixture of Marks & Spencer and IKEA. On Thursday, I had (surprise, surprise) tuna on a croissant at Delifrance (the same chain in Malaysia – they even have my fave Croque Monsieur but I doubt it’s halal turkey ham), so by Friday I was already sick of tuna. And by then, I had educated myself on the Dutch word for tuna – Tonijn. Other Dutch words have become part of my expanding vocabulary ever since I arrived, thanks to my necessary shopping rounds and invaluable Dutch subtitles on the telly. So without much further ado, here’s my brief yet essential list on Dutch words:

1) Jaa (Ya) – Yes 29) Morgen – Morning!
2) Nee (Nay) – No 30) Middag – Afternoon!
3) Moeder – Mother 31) Avond – Evening!
4) Vader (Darth Vader?) – Father 32) Vanavond - Tonight
5) Zoon – Son 33) Gisteren - Yesterday
6) Dochter – Daughter 34) Gisteravond – Last night
7) Kinder/Kinderen – Child/Children 35) Postkantoor – Post office
8) Vriend – Friend 36) Korting - Discount
9) Weken – Week 37) Vanaf – Starts from
10) Zaterdag – Saturday 38) Tonijn - Tuna
11) Zondag – Sunday 39) Koffie - Coffee
12) Hallo – Hello 40) Thee – Tea
13) Daag – Bye 41) Broodje/Brood - Bread
14) Open – Open 42) Ijs – Ice/Ice-cream
15) Gesloten – Close 43) Kaas – Cheese
16) Bel – Call 44) Melk - Milk
17) Nu – Now 45) Chocola - Chocolate
18) Straks – Next 46) Kip - Chicken
19) Goed (Ghoot) – Good 47) Rundvlees - Beef
20) Prima – That’s fine 48) Varkensvlees - Pork
21) Huis – House 49) Groeten - Vegetables
22) Ingang – Entrance 50) Vis (Fiss) - Fish
23) Uitgang – Exit 51) Rijst - Rice
24) Vhay Say – Toilet 52) Patat Frites – (Potato) Fries
25) Winkel – Shop 53) Gratis (No charge) - Free
26) Kapper – Hairdresser 54) Vrij (Unoccupied) – Free
27) Kamer – Room 55) Kassa - Cashier
28) Bakkerij - Bakery 56) Warenhuis - Department store

On Friday I decided to chuck tonijn for kip so I fried some – make that 3 chicken wings. We bought them at this Muslim Turkish grocery store which we stumbled upon during our Sunday stroll. We were earlier informed by a Malay student here that there are 3 places to buy halal meat – this one, another Turkish store and C1000, a Dutch version of Tesco which carries some halal produce.

I’m quite relieved that we needn’t go outside of Delft to purchase the meat. Actually, following our web surfing the first night we arrived in town, we discovered that Rotterdam port is a major exporter of halal meat. Wow! Yippee! We had then (wrongly) thought that we must commute all the way to Rotterdam for much vaunted grocery. Which however, shouldn’t cause a problem since our apartment is right behind the train/bus/tram depot. Further, Rotterdam is apparently closer to Delft than Amsterdam, but The Hague (Den Haag) is even closer – my husband told me that some of his professors actually cycle all the way from their house in The Hague to Delft! Frugal Nederlanders! (- this is another interesting topic for discussion).

Oh yeah, come Saturday, the town’s atmosphere became quite festive with street vendors seling a myriad of delicacies, fresh produce, flowers, trinkets, baubles, antiques, pottery and other hand-me-downs to pique your interest and entice you to part with your money. The market scene was familiar to the one in the previous Saturday when we had newly arrived but this Saturday the weather was mild and cooperative. Following a take-away lunch from Subway (Yay! There’s a Subway in Delft!), we rested for a while at home, much to Sadia’s benefit. We later ventured to IKEA on our inaugural bus trip that cost us each Euro1 (Sadia's was free). We needed some necessities to de-sterilise and personalize the modern apartment and to buy ‘human-size’ drinking receptacles (compared to the miniature ones at home that fail to quench our thirst), amongst others. Much to our chagrin and aching bodies, this IKEA doesn’t come equipped with an escalator! It’s either the small (again) lift or the stairs! Oh well, as my husband glibly commented, in a nation full of cyclists, an escalator is the last thing in their mind.

Other interesting observation that I have made for the last two weeks is that most Nederlanders smoke! There won’t be a street corner that I tread on without a whiff of tobacco in the air. They even smoke while cycling (talk about multi-tasking!). How about those who smoke, cycle and chat on their cell phones at the same time? (Isn’t there a law against that kind of thing?) Wow, I’m both impressed and bamboozled by such amazing Cirque-De-Soleil feats. Cycling is one thing. Eating is another. Here I was, quite happy that Hema’s café where I planned to eat my tonijn ciabatta has a designated non-smoking zone. But when I arrived that fateful afternoon, people were puffing away underneath the big glaring ‘No Smoking’ sign like nobody’s business. Old ladies, college boys and girls, housewives. Aaaaarrrggggghhhh! Luckily, one corner remained untarnished and I managed to WOLF down my sandwich relatively in peace before Sadia tried to snatch it away from me.

Oh, lest I forget, on a side note, the Dutch – smoking or otherwise – do have the decency to put away their trays into the tray remover stand after eating. That’s what happened to me in Hema when I was in turn, wondering where to stash my tray. When in doubt, do like the locals. I now believe, Malaysians are a spoilt lot – having service staff to take our dirty trays away. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves and strive to be more efficient and conscientious like the Dutch and the Americans! Hehe.

Smoking aside, my own weakness (or vice, if you may) would be coffee and much to my horror, the whole of Nederland doesn’t have Starbucks! Egad! How could they survive! Netherlands must be one of those few countries that succeed in blocking Starbucks’ global invasion. Oh well, I have to go to good old Great Britain for Starbucks then. Fortunately, other coffee chains like Kaldi and Moccamore offer some reprieve, especially the latter which has to-die-for big oatmeal & raisin chewy cookies. Yum! And it is one of the two places in Delft that I know of (believe me, I’ve scoured high and low) which sells donuts. Yes, sugared, chocolate and frosted ones. Of course, Amsterdam would have much more caffeine-IV-ed variety to choose from – which will be the subject of my upcoming blog where I will ruminate on our virgin trip to Amsterdam on the 23rd of September. Until then, have a glorious and soul-fulfilling Ramadan to my Muslim families, friends and readers!

Day-Lefth...

Tuesday 19th September 3:10 pm

It’s cold and windy outside. I’m with Sadia in the comforts of our boudoir. My husband is in class since 8 am this morning. It’ll be another long night. By 9 pm only he’ll be back.

Come this Thursday, it’ll be two weeks long my family and I have been in Delft (DAY-LEFTH, as the locals say it, with a slight ‘H’ inflection like ‘Twelfth’), Netherlands. Oh yeah, it’s wrong to say Holland since Holland comprises only a region of the country – Netherlands. With my husband having classes a few days after we arrived, the first week was ‘make-it-or-break-it’ moment for me. However, the long respite of hot weather last week lent support to my adjustment period.

Now, the weather has turned cold (didn’t I say that before?). Yes, cold. And dreary. I shouldn’t complain though. It was cold and rainy when we touched down in Schiphol airport during the wee hours of the morning on 7th September. Against the chilly rain and with Sadia in my arms, I had to sprint (or you could safely say – walk briskly) to the van taxi that would bring us to Delft. Lo and behold, we got stuck in the morning rush hour which contributed to an exorbitant taxi cost of Euro103! Of course, we couldn’t lug all four gigantic bags into the train (Hopefully, come touristy time, we’d be able to travel light). The protracted car ride coupled with lethargy from the 13-hour transcontinental flight also set off an inconsolable cry by Sadia in the taxi. She cried her heart out much to our helplessness, until she fell asleep on my shoulder. Who wouldn’t cry coming out from one compact space into another?

The first day, my husband booked us into Johannes Vermeer Hotel, which cost around Euro125 a night. It is a quaint place with replicas of Dutch famous painter’s works on display in every room (or ‘Kamer’ as they say it in Dutch), hallway and in the lobby where a small bussel desk cum receptionist and a glass cabinet encasing Vermeer-esque paraphernalia are located. Funny thing is the hotel has this Do-It-Yourself kind of setting where you have to take your own bags upstairs to the room (it doesn’t have any lift!), you go downstairs to retrieve your free WIFI password and you help yourself to cutlery and plates for breakfast (Luckily, the lobby also has a small store where we store our big luggage!). Also, the room doesn’t come with its own miniature fridge but instead you are given a key to a big glass ‘fridge’ – the one you can easily find at 7-Eleven – situated at a common landing area, to get your own sodas and other beverages. You then tick which beverage(s) you have taken in a form provided inside your room, which in turn indicates how much you have to pay upon check-out. All fridge-relatd activities are under the watchful eye of a CCTV!!! This Spartan-like service must be owing to the fact the place is co-owned by this lanky blonde woman – who I might add became rather standoffish when I asked too many questions (Hehe – I have that effect any where in the world).

My husband scurried to his university after depositing us in our Kamer to rest and knock our shoes off. By that time, my facial skin had begun to flake off and to make matters worse, I had caught the flu bug possibly from a family member in Malaysia (or was it from the lady sitting in front of us in the flight who kept sneezing?). After our beauty sleep at the hotel, he came back gushing over the soon-to-be-ours apartment that he had the pleasure of viewing. I’m quite surprised my husband has all this energy left to go around and run errands that could have waited until we stretched our legs in the hotel room. I guess he is used to it from his travels. And partly, it is in his nature to get things settled first before he can relax. As for me, I was travel-weary and jet-lagged. We later had our first real meal (if you could call fast food REAL) in McD, filet-o-fish set for lunch and by 4pm we had snoozed off until 2 in the morning! Jet-lagged big time!

The next day, following DIY breakfast, we moved into our apartment. The lift was broken however, so my husband had to divvy up the clothes and other knick-knack from those big luggage into a smaller bag before hauling them up the narrowed stairs. Yes, we live on the second floor where access is only (save for the lift) by way these spiraling rickety wooden stairs which can accommodate one person at a time on each of its step. Yep, it’s that tiny so you cannot walk up hand in hand if the occasion EVER happens to call for it.

The apartment itself – well, I already saw it briefly with the family the day before, following our McD excursion – is a showcase of IKEA furniture and fittings, not unlike our house in Ampang. However, this apartment parts company from the one in Ampang due to 1) its heavy reliance on IKEA items and 2) its too modern, minimalist concept. Linen, curtains, placemats, glasses, plates, dinner table and chairs, lamps, coffee tables, kitchen towels, bath towels, rugs. Speaking of rugs, the living room’s has this sisal-like texture which the coffee tables stand. The upstairs houses, amongst others, the bedroom, side tables, a wardrobe and the only bathroom in the apartment. To go up is yet another set of spiraled and narrowed set of small steps. The entire floor of the boudoir is covered in the aforesaid sisal-like carpeting which can be quite painful on the feet if you are lucky enough to trudge on its random splinter ends (We have yet to buy house slippers or flip-flops to contain this problem).

One marvelous feature of the second floor is its unique gable look with wooden beams hanging above the bed’s foot, laid out in a triangular fashion from the floor and extended all the way up to the bathroom’s door. In fact, it is the first distinctive thing that you see when you reach the top of the steps. The bedroom also has two skylights and a small diagonally-angled window (or attic window) which overlooks the building next door, particularly its inviting ‘alfresco’ top floor with flower pots and summery lawn chairs. As anyone can guess, this furnished apartment comes at a price and a housekeeper who cleans the place once a week (ours is either Tuesday or Wednesday). I already had some incidences and grievances with her - a hybrid of a brunette Ingrid Bergman and an Auschwitz prison guard - even with only twice housekeeping duties. Perhaps I’m being too hard on her – she did give us a babycot cum playpen from the storeroom when we first arrived, which originally didn’t come with the apartment. Hmm, let’s see how things pan out in the next few weeks and whether she will be extra nice and won’t lord over me when my husband is around.

Anyway, I will further expatiate on the first week of life here in my next blog entry. Till then, DAAG!