Finally, a Haven

View outside of DeLuca


DeLuca's copacetic interior

Outside the vast double door of our apartment, strong silhouette of an uninterrupted line of barren trees adorns the narrowed streets. Besides the trees, the canal gleams and casts a serene countenance being under the spell of the radiant sun. Ducks squeal as if in rapture of the beautiful day lying ahead! That was precisely my sentiment when we woke up this morning with sunbeams peeking through the two skylights of our loft-like bedroom. A day such as this is unseasonably bright considering that bleak winter is just round the corner.

A clear day like this shouldn’t go to waste, my husband and I concurred. We resolved to venture outside of Delft into Den Haag. In fact, we had tentatively planned to do so after ‘successfully’ spending several hours there yesterday. (Successful in mom-speak means a cooperative tot) Out of a whim and boredom for the lack of fun English-medium TV programs, we scuttled off to American Book Centre’s branch in Den Haag in pursuit of a stimulation of the cerebral kind.

Guided with a dog-eared map, we finally located ABC in Lange Poten, which intersected with Spui, one of the tram stops along the Delft-bound route. Like its big-city counterparts – Amsterdam and Rotterdam, the stores in Den Haag open on Sundays, usually from noon until 5pm. After our book purchases, we found ourselves drawn to the festive atmosphere and growing crowd plainly visible across the other side of Spui. From our vantage point, Christmas lights were serially festooned on top of what seems like an endless shopping avenue. We were instantly hooked! (no pun intended)

Like a skilled animal armed with its killer instinct, we have found our watering hole. At last! A shopping arcade to feast our eyes on and tempt our wallets! Our pupils dilated at the sight of a bevy of noteworthy shops and like a fish out of water, I excitably called out familiar names – Zara! H&M (Hennes&Mauritz)! Hema! Levi’s!

Halfway along the arcade, we bumped into a group of mischievous-looking Zwarte Piets (dress-for-hire teenagers) giving out kruidnoten to passer-bys in front of the ‘entrance’ into the alfresco pedestrian mall simply called ‘The Passage’ with its own share of interesting stores like Benetton, Sisley, Selexyz – a Dutch-language bookstore not dissimilar to Barnes & Noble – and Apple Centre (just what hubby would like). One of the Piet practically ambushed my husband and impishly left some pieces of Kruidnoten inside the hood of his sweater. Now I know how Dhanu feels ;-)

We bought finally the long-postponed sweater for Sadia at H&M which was quite inexpensive, even when compared to Hema. Thereon, lured by the throng of eager shoppers and relatively fine weather, we ambled on and somehow ended up at the corner of Gravenstraat where the super-duper exclusive department store Maison De Bonnaterie proudly stood. Pressed for time, we didn’t trudge inside but advanced further down the lane. We then decided to call it a day after arriving in the middle of heavy pedestrian crossing of luxe department stores Peek & Cloppenburg, and De Bijenkorf. This was where we bumped into Surina, a good friend of my twin and her immediate family, who had settled in The Hague since last July. How nice to see a familiar face from Malaysia!

Today, as a treat for our second anniversary, we indulged in a mini-celebration by having lunch at La Place Mangerie in Vroom & Dreesman (V&D), another department store along the arcade. The open-air, kiosk-style concept is redolent of Café La Marche in The Curve at Mutiara Damansara. The cozy eatery also reminded me fondly of the gourmet food court I chanced upon at Water Tower Shopping Centre in Chicago during the heyday of collegiate life. However, the two entrees and two Frambozen (Raspberry) shakes were a tad bit expensive in comparison to the spread we relished at La Marche!

We then opted to exchange gifts with one another using a system whereby both of us must be in agreement to what one would chose for the other. Yet, in the end each of us wound up picking an item that we like ourselves and then asked the other for an opinion. That seems fairer, doesn’t it? ;-)

The anniversary celeb came to a full circle as we sat down for latte (what else!) at Deli DeLuca, a brasserie located at the corner lot of the Passage. The coffee was too pungent for my taste (caused me a mild headache) but the chocolate truffle tidbit managed to offset its headiness a little.

By the time we reached Delft proper, tiny droplets of rain tapped gently on our winter coats, thus slowly transplanting ourselves back into a Dutch wintry (albeit rainy) existence. Despite the cacophony of people rushing home, the air was surprisingly tranquil, echoing the wistful longing of the deceptively silent canals. Befitting the mood, we whisked Sadia away from the elements into the sanctuary of our home where duties resume and responsibilities await us. Nonetheless, the day’s proceedings buoyed our spirits up for we have, in no doubt, unearthed a shopping haven to call our own.

Soulmate Revisited

It’s our anniversary, as Phoebe Buffay (Hannigan) exclaimed on the final season of Friends when she's all decked out to go to the Knicks game.

Monday marks exactly two years of wedded bliss for me and my husband. In the rainy and chilly climate of Delft, not to mention a high cost of living in Europe, we can be expected to spend ours indoors in the warmth of our apartment and the equally congenial presence of Sadia.

In retrospect, I can hardly believe it has been ONLY two years. It feels, as if, we are already married for five or at most seven years! Okay maybe I am exaggerating on the seven years but I do feel old from the events of the past year.

I largely contribute this indistinct feeling of aging to the birth of my firstborn early this year, which has swiftly relegated me to motherhood and its accompanying obligations. I have to confess I did experience - after the euphoric high of childbirth - some sort of baby blues during the first few weeks following Sadia’s birth.

I was engulfed with the sudden solitary confinement of the physical and emotional kind owing to the presence of a new person in my life. In the back of my mind, I missed the carefree days of traipsing inside malls and lounging at cafes with my husband, never to worry about the welfare of a third person. But when I look at little clueless and forlorn Sadia, I snapped out of my reverie and realized how selfish, insensitive and most of all, immature I could be.

I hope having a baby will make you grow up, Mama said to me once or twice whenever I started yammering about inconsequential or trivial issues that bogged me down. How those words reverberated in my ears every now and then as I tend to Sadia and look at how she has grown over these nine lonngggg months. Of course, like a full-bred mother, she is right. I have taken some personal interests to the backseat, whilst others have to wait until she can walk and talk!

Perhaps I am inflexible (or uptight) when it comes to raising a baby – forgoing some activities (like the movies!) just so that Sadia is contented to have me (and us) at her side, most of the times. However, as a new mother, it is better to be safe than sorry. I still recall the time when I left her in the care of my mother and her maid so as to get a haircut with my twin sister. Disastrous consequences!

While I reflect on this epiphany, I must also acknowledge that my relationship with the hubby has transformed tremendously on several different levels. Some good, some bad. That is inevitable in any ‘dynamic’ and healthy relationships, I gather. We have mutually agreed the kinks that need to be ironed out and tinkered on ideas to ’enhance’ our coupledom.

Another reason which gives the impression that we seem married for longer than two years has to do with our even longer pseudo-friendship during which time we have practically known each other fancies and foibles. Then onwards, after declaring our love, the process of rehashing our attitudes continued, much advantageously if I’d say so myself. :-)

Since having a baby, one interesting aspect of our relationship that underwent change is the widening vocabulary for terms of endearment. Like other married Malay couples I have the privilege of observing, we at times unabashedly call one another Mama and Ayah, asides from the usual spouse-specific affectionate nouns.

My husband supported this practice by arguing that it is outright endearing and symbolizes the appreciation of the wife’s new role as a mother. I begged to differ, pointing out that calling the wife Mama/Mak/Ibu/Umi signifies the end of romantic intimacy and simultaneously pushing the mother role to the forefront, at the expense of the husband-and-wife bond. Perhaps I over-analyze this name usage. Perhaps it’s just for practicality sake. Oh well. Maybe a cigar is just a cigar.

The second anniversary will assuredly be etched into my memory as the year we are outside of Malaysia. The year we had a kid. The teething year, if you please. Like the actual process, you feel uneasy when the tooth begin cutting its way to the surface but you are comforted by the very fact that the means justify the ends (first real tooth). In our case, the obstacles validate and reinforce our unflinching commitment to this beautiful union. Happy Anniversary, YANG! (Hehe)

Of Hans Brinker, Toilet and Water Management

The previous YouTube video makes for a refreshing diversion from my usual text and photo uploads. I hope in the future I am able to upload Sadia’s latest adventures onto this site.

Where was I? Oh yes, Hans Brinker.

He is the Dutch boy who became famous all around the world for sticking his finger into a dyke overnight, in the freezing cold, so as to prevent it from breaking up and cause a major flood in the (flat)land.

But when you ask most locals about him, you will, more often than not, get a quizzical look as though you are talking rubbish or making things up. And if you didn’t know this yet - the Dutch are not prone to exaggeration nor are they forgetful, so you are left feeling perplexed and dissatisfied. Where did you go wrong?

The answer lies in the fact that little Hansje is NOT real. That is, he was a fictitious character created by an American author, with her own fanciful (and expansive, if I might add) impression of the Netherlands. His story as told in the book Hans Brinker (or The Silver Skates) became so believable that other people that migrated into the country (and familiar with the story) insisted that a statue (or two) be erected to commemorate his heroic deed. Talk about art imitating life!

This fact and countless others on the Netherlands’ culture, quirks and other oddities are described with much levity in “The Dutch, I presume?” , by Dutch’s own native, Martijn de Rooi .

My husband procured the book during the first session of his classes last September, possibly serves as a great starting point – an indispensable window - into the world of all things Dutch.

The book is quite resourceful for us since it gives us either a foresight or hindsight to those pop culture references, icons and idiosyncrasies we see and deal with everyday whilst dwelling in Delft.

One such ubiquitous characteristic that is exceptionally Dutch lies (pun intended) in its toilet. As de Rooi amusingly explained in his book “‘There’s no doubt about it, says an American. I’ve been living here long enough and I know the Dutch. If they can’t see land above water, they’re not happy’.”

Jokes aside, I first noticed this deep plateau of a Dutch toilet when we stayed overnight at the Vermeer’s Hotel. Unlike seated toilets in other countries which are filled with water, the typical Dutch toilet is separated into two ‘floors’ or gradations – the first stage hosts an ample space of flat terrain that drops, at right angle, into the second stage - a small, narrowed recess. Herein contains an even smaller amount of toilet water.

Theories from the non-Dutch abound as to the reasons behind the Dutch’s preference for the ‘shallow flusher’, as de Rooi put it. One theory revolves on the Dutch’s inborn propensity to manage their water resources (I can already imagine the advertising banner for this – Waste Not Your Waste! (hehe)) and another theorizes on the deep-rooted need to analyze and order everything. However, de Rooi debunked these myths and elucidated that the Dutch’s close inspection of their waste is matter-of-factly quite beneficial, particularly for children’s health and, that the ‘dry’ and shallow toilet speaks of practicality by way of NOT splashing back on one’s derriere.

To say the least, seeing (and smelling) one’s waste mounting up on the dry plateau is quite a disgusting and reek-full business. And to make matters worse, our only toilet in the apartment is built onto an enclosed area with no ventilation, thus enabling the smell to permeate the whole toilet unit!

The combination of a deep leveled space and an airless toilet leaves one with the following options: (a) a one-off, swift performance that flushes immediately and (b) a staccato-like act of passing motion that calls for multi-flushing in between takes. Undoubtedly, both alternatives deflect anyone from thoroughly enjoying any reading time in the loo.

We finally circumvented this slew of problems by buying a fragrant household spray which now finds its permanent place inside the toilet. I do think such sprays are imperative in the grocery list of an average Dutch consumer. That, or the aid of eucalyptus and other scented oils to mask the odour of human bio-waste(s).

Or, they should try (dis)solving it the Japanese way – a potent drop (or two) of some concoction the Japanese had invented – which finds its place on the shelves of Malaysian’s selected supermarkets and departmental stores. Originally produced for usage in malodorous public toilets such as the ones inexhaustibly available in Malaysia, this drop will definitely come handy in Dutch-orientated toilets. Like those velcroed-on-the-wall ‘spritz’ sprays and a gamut of household sprays, I predict this Japanese creation will be a hit once it arrives on Dutch shores, provided the price is right for these frugal lot!

Pre-menstrual Tension

A situation most hubbies - mine likewise - have to endure every month. Poor hubby though....ever since giving birth, my 'cycle' has been haywire. Thus, he wouldn't know when the 'monster' will pounce on him next! :-D