Do I look Russian?

I’m walking around in the Albert Heijn, the biggest Dutch supermarket chain, flagship of The Netherlands, the little retailer that became a giant, blah di blah di blah... I love the Appie Happie! I’m in the branch nearest to my mom’s house in The Hague and the shop has changed quite bit since I was here last. After a year of narrow, over full yet under stocked, chaotic Maldivian and Egyptian supermarkets, this feels almost like a scene out of a futuristic movie. They’ve expanded and the aisles are now wide, the atmosphere is spacious, light and breezy. And I’m holding a blue hand scanner. When I entered the supermarket I saw all these gadgets hanging on the wall. “Zelf scannen? Zo gebliept!” shouts the giant slogan above the machines, which means so much as “Scan it yourself? Done in a bleep!”. It’s the future come true. I scan my mom’s bonus card (Dutch people love cards that give you discount, so I now carry around my mom’s “spare” card) and this activates my scanner. I browse through the shop and end up buying much more than I intended to, just to bleep about. A couple of more bags of drop, drinking yoghurt (mango-passion fruit flavour, yummy... ah, and since they are in the “bonus”, I take a raspberry flavour as well....), oh, a nice National Geographic magazine with an article about the Blue Holes in The Bahamas and before I know it the shopping basket is full. Good thing I didn't grab a trolley. I walk to the check-out machine, put the scanner back, scan the bonus card again, swipe my debit card, get a receipt, pack my items, walk to the exit, scan the receipt to open the gate and I’m out. This took me 2 minutes because I was a novice, but I estimate that next time I will be out in 30 seconds. No more standing in line with one carton of milk and three people in front of you with a trolley looking like the one from the homeless guy in the park. No more frustrating confrontations with unfriendly cashiers who look like their arm is about to fall off because of repetitive scanning injuries. Now it’s just you, your hand scanner and a paying machine. I think it’s fantastically sophisticated!

Speaking of sophisticated, two days ago I was at Hurghada airport (yes, that was a cynical subject change). The scale said that my check-in bag weighed 28 kg and that my hand luggage was close to 13 kg. “You have too much kilo’s”, the check-in guy said to me. “I already lost 14 kg, thank you very much” I thought, but I smiled and said apologetically that I was leaving for a year and that I couldn’t take less with me than this. Which is true. The total content of my bag was my diving gear, my bikinis, two summer dresses, a few shorts, a few tops, some underwear, a toilet bag, two yoga outfits and a belt. And in my hand luggage I had packed my laptop, a book, 5 kg of cables for camera’s, computer, mobile phone, IPod and all the other indispensable electronic gadgets I carry around, one folder with important papers (some things are just not adapted to modern technology yet) and a pencil case. Is that really too much for one year abroad? I'm already forced to borrow my mom's clothes since I didn't bring any Dutch "summer" clothes... The guy seemed understanding and told me he would have to charge me a lot of money if I paid “here”. So he said he would meet me after Immigrations and we would “talk about it” there. After consulting Stefano over the phone, I prepared 50 Egyptian pounds which I kept in my pocket and I was not yet sitting one minute at a table next to the souvenir shop or he showed up in front of me. Blah blah, chit chat and I put the 50 pounds on the table. He pretended to be offended, said it should be at least EUR 50, I told him that I was also doing him a favour since he would not have gotten a penny if I would have paid the official overweight, he insisted, I held my ground and as a result, he pushed the money back, wished me a nice flight and left. I must say it took me by surprise, but come to think of it, I don’t think he was interested in my money. Maybe he thought I was Russian... :-)

The two months in El Gouna flew by at the speed of light. It definitely felt like being home, but then again, it didn’t. Living in your in-laws' house is practical and cheap, but I found out that I miss not having my own house. My own place, where I can hang my own paintings, sit on my own furniture, use my own cutlery, or at least whatever I have left after the garage sale in Singapore. But it’s not really an economically sound idea to buy a house in a place where you only live a few months a year... And I’m not ready to give up travelling yet, just to make buying a house a sensible investment... Oh, and I almost forgot... I don’t HAVE the money to buy a house. Problem solved. For now.

The 62 days in El Gouna where filled with BBQ-BD parties at both of the Aliverti’s houses, a Full Moon Party at The Club House, a Fashion Show at which undersigned modeled some extremely cool clothes, a few dives here and there to keep the nitrogen from decreasing to dangerously low levels and many many many hours of Heroes on DVD.

In between all that, I worked for The Club House on a project to get the Spa & Beauty Salon opened. I knew that one month for that was a bit optimistic, but it was fun to do and as a bonus, I got to organise a yoga workshop. Which is completely up my current alley. Darja and I and several other Gounie girls got completely hooked on yoga, all for different reasons, all with differing fervour (Darja and I definitely top the list) and having a yoga teacher from Cairo in El Gouna was a great success. After 10 days of intensive Ashtanga Yoga, the physical changes in our bodies were already noticeable, so was the improvement of our strength and flexibility. And the amount of energy I get each time from an hour of sweating and torturing myself is incredible. If you ever thought that yoga was about sitting and humming, crawl back under your rock (if you are flexible enough) and come out only when you’ve repented. Ashtanga Yoga is about stretching yourself every time a little more beyond what you think is possible, losing liters of sweat and working towards realising the dream that one day you will be as fit again as you were when you were 14 years old. It’s a challenge and I’ve accepted it, the challenger being nobody else but me.

I found an Ashtanga Yoga school in The Hague, which I will try out this weekend. I’ll be here for a while, I think. The plan for the next few weeks, is that there is no plan. For the first time since I left The Netherlands, I have come back without preparing an over full schedule of dinner parties, drinks, baby visits, lunches & brunches. Maybe because I’ll be in the country for five weeks, so there is no pressure to plan too much. Or maybe I’ve finally really let go of my old habits (no, maybe not). Either way, I’m sure I’ll get to see everybody that matters and if I don’t, there is always next time, Facebook, email, Skype, phone, holidays in El Gouna, trip to the Maldives and many other ways to see each other and catch up.

Speaking of catching up, I’m lagging behind terribly with uploading pictures on Facebook, but here are the links to several albums about the last few months, including the Maldives. Bali will follow soon, but I still have to sort through hundreds of bad under water pictures to make a selection of good ones for you...

So long!

xYx

The Maldives above water:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=224543&id=523210814&l=e41ac4593d

The Maldives under water:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=195049&id=523210814&l=097cd28f1e

Holidays in Sri Lanka, February 2010:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=227860&id=523210814&l=6193f84a89