i don’t have much of anything new to say except that the two Christmas videos I sang on are now finished. being away from home made it seem like Christmas was a long way off (in spite of the date on the calendar). recording these songs finally flipped the switch for me to feel like Christmas was indeed in the air. listen and enjoy…even if Christmas is past!
http://www.secretworldonline.com/symonjerycho/Travelogues/091204-091211-TSUChristmas2009/091204-091211-TSUChristmas2009.htm
of all the people indicted by the ICTY, only two people, including Ratko Mladic, remain at large. Mladic has been labeled the top military officer in both the Srebrenica massacre and the siege of Sarajevo. there have been media reports suggesting that he is living freely and somewhat openly in Serbia, but no moves to arrest him have been made.
this interesting article below speaks to the view of the ICTY in Serbia, and how Serbian citizens view Mladic.
“According to a recent poll, jointly commissioned by the OSCE mission in Serbia and the Belgrade Human Rights Centre, 56 percent of Serbian citizens believe Ratko Mladic is not guilty of the crimes he has been indicted for by the ICTY, and more than 60 percent do not think he should be arrested and transfered to The Hague. Of the 1,400 people questioned between April and June this year, 72 percent said their opinion of the ICTY was either “very negative” or “rather negative.” Criticism focused on the ICTY’s alleged “bias, non-objectivity and anti-Serbism.” However, 55 percent of those polled said that Serbia should cooperate with the ICTY as this would ease Serbia’s path to membership of the European Union. According to Vojin Dimitrijevic, the Director of the Belgrade Human Rights Centre, “the case of support for Mladic” should be dealt with “by social psychologists”, because it is an “inborn resistance against someone belonging to your nation being guilty.”
i had to give up singing somewhere along the way to becoming a lawyer. but, funnily enough, i’ve been able to pick it back up here at the ICTY. some of the case managers are recording artists and they make a Christmas song video every year….featuring ICTY employees and interns singing. i heard about this year’s recording through the grape vine and gladly volunteered to sing. this year’s songs are “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Hallelujah.” we had the first recording session last week and it was a blast!! i did some solo lines and also sang with my friends Mariel and Maria Elena. apparently, we were the talk of the tribunal. we record the second session this Friday (my last day 
).
having the opportunity to share music with the people here has been a gift. a lightness to the heaviness of what we do all day. it seems things have come full circle since the Troubadors concert so many months ago. and, this time, i get to sing! God has been really good to continually provide these opportunities to unwind and enjoy life here.
in a city of expats no good American holiday goes by without being observed. and Thanksgiving was no different here in Den Haag. i somehow became the de facto organizer of the event…and it turned out great. we ended up having about 30 interns (mostly American, but with a good number of Europeans and Aussies) crammed into an apartment. since they don’t really sell turkey here, we had to go to a special bird store where you pre-order the turkey. considering none of us have ovens (a rarity in apartments here) we ordered the turkeys cooked. yes, turkeys plural….we got two 15.5 lb birds! the bird man nicely allowed us to bring our own stuffings to him the morning we picked the birds up. i made cornbread stuffing and my friend Tristan made sausage stuffing. we also had all of the sides: green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes…. and, of course, we had desserts! the boys really impressed me with their pumpkin and pecan pies. needless to say, it was a success! oh yeah, because Dutch apartments are weird, my friend’s shower is off his kitchen…. desperately in need of more space, we chose to use the shower for the ice cooler.
turkeys
need some ice? just head to the shower...
after working on the whipped cream, i had it all over my face
Alex carving the turkeys
in order to fully explain the Sinterklaas (Santa Claus) tradition here in Holland, i defer to the consistently funny David Sedaris:
I’VE NEVER BEEN MUCH for guidebooks, so when trying to get my bearings in a strange American city, I normally start by asking the cabdriver or hotel clerk some silly question regarding the latest census figures. I say silly because I don’t really care how many people live in Olympia, Washington, or Columbus, Ohio. They’re nice enough places, but the numbers mean nothing to me. My second question might have to do with average annual rainfall, which, again, doesn’t tell me anything about the people who have chosen to call this place home. …
When do you open your Christmas presents?” is another good conversation starter, as it explains a lot about national character. People who traditionally open gifts on Christmas Eve seem a bit more pious and family oriented than those who wait until Christmas morning. They go to mass, open presents, eat a late meal, return to church the following morning, and devote the rest of the day to eating another big meal. Gifts are generally reserved for children, and the parents tend not to go overboard. It’s nothing I’d want for myself, but I suppose it’s fine for those who prefer food and family to things of real value.
In France and Germany, gifts are exchanged on Christmas Eve, while in Holland the children receive presents on December 5, in celebration of Saint Nicholas Day. It sounded sort of quaint until I spoke to a man named Oscar, who filled me in on a few of the details as we walked from my hotel to the Amsterdam train station.
Unlike the jolly, obese American Santa, Saint Nicholas is painfully thin and dresses not unlike the pope, topping his robes with a tall hat resembling an embroidered tea cozy. The outfit, I was told, is a carryover from his former career, when he served as a bishop in Turkey.
One doesn’t want to be too much of a cultural chauvinist, but this seemed completely wrong to me. For starters, Santa didn’t use to do anything. He’s not retired, and, more important, he has nothing to do with Turkey. The climate’s all wrong, and people wouldn’t appreciate him. When asked how he got from Turkey to the North Pole, Oscar told me with complete conviction that Saint Nicholas currently resides in Spain, which again is simply not true. While he could probably live wherever he wanted, Santa chose the North Pole specifically because it is harsh and isolated. No one can spy on him, and he doesn’t have to worry about people coming to the door. Anyone can come to the door in Spain, and in that outfit, he’d most certainly be recognized. On top of that, aside from a few pleasantries, Santa doesn’t speak Spanish. He knows enough to get by, but he’s not fluent, and he certainly doesn’t eat tapas.
While our Santa flies on a sled, Saint Nicholas arrives by boat and then transfers to a white horse. The event is televised, and great crowds gather at the waterfront to greet him. I’m not sure if there’s a set date, but he generally docks in late November and spends a few weeks hanging out and asking people what they want.
“Is it just him alone?” I asked. “Or does he come with some backup?”
Oscar’s English was close to perfect, but he seemed thrown by a term normally reserved for police reinforcement.
“Helpers,” I said. “Does he have any elves?”
Maybe I’m just overly sensitive, but I couldn’t help but feel personally insulted when Oscar denounced the very idea as grotesque and unrealistic. “Elves,” he said. “They’re just so silly.”
The words silly and unrealistic were redefined when I learned that Saint Nicholas travels with what was consistently described as “six to eight black men.” I asked several Dutch people to narrow it down, but none of them could give me an exact number. It was always “six to eight,” which seems strange, seeing as they’ve had hundreds of years to get a decent count.
The six to eight black men were characterized as personal slaves until the mid-fifties, when the political climate changed and it was decided that instead of being slaves they were just good friends. I think history has proven that something usually comes between slavery and friendship, a period of time marked not by cookies and quiet times beside the fire but by bloodshed and mutual hostility. They have such violence in Holland, but rather than duking it out among themselves, Santa and his former slaves decided to take it out on the public. In the early years, if a child was naughty, Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men would beat him with what Oscar described as “the small branch of a tree.”
“A switch?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s it. They’d kick him and beat him with a switch. Then, if the youngster was really bad, they’d put him in a sack and take him back to Spain.”
“Saint Nicholas would kick you?”
“Well, not anymore,” Oscar said. “Now he just pretends to kick you.”
“And the six to eight black men?”
“Them, too.”
He considered this to be progressive, but in a way I think it’s almost more perverse than the original punishment. “I’m going to hurt you, but not really.” How many times have we fallen for that line? The fake slap invariably makes contact, adding the elements of shock and betrayal to what had previously been plain, old-fashioned fear. What kind of Santa spends his time pretending to kick people before stuffing them into a canvas sack? Then, of course, you’ve got the six to eight former slaves who could potentially go off at any moment. This, I think, is the greatest difference between us and the Dutch. While a certain segment of our population might be perfectly happy with the arrangement, if you told the average white American that six to eight nameless black men would be sneaking into his house in the middle of the night, he would barricade the doors and arm himself with whatever he could get his hands on.
“Six to eight, did you say?”
In the years before central heating, Dutch children would leave their shoes by the fireplace, the promise being that unless they planned to beat you, kick you, or stuff you into a sack, Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men would fill your clogs with presents. Aside from the threats of violence and kidnapping, it’s not much different from hanging your stockings from the mantel. Now that so few people have a working fireplace, Dutch children are instructed to leave their shoes beside the radiator, furnace, or space heater. Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men arrive on horses, which jump from the yard onto the roof. At this point, I guess, they either jump back down and use the door, or they stay put and vaporize through the pipes and electrical wires. Oscar wasn’t too clear about the particulars, but, really, who can blame him? We have the same problem with our Santa. He’s supposed to use the chimney, but if you don’t have one, he still manages to come through. It’s best not to think about it too hard.
While eight flying reindeer are a hard pill to swallow, our Christmas story remains relatively simple. Santa lives with his wife in a remote polar village and spends one night a year traveling around the world. If you’re bad, he leaves you coal. If you’re good and live in America, he’ll give you just about anything you want. We tell our children to be good and send them off to bed, where they lie awake, anticipating their great bounty. A Dutch parent has a decidedly hairier story to relate, telling his children, “Listen, you might want to pack a few of your things together before you go to bed. The former bishop from Turkey will be coming along with six to eight black men. They might put some candy in your shoes, they might stuff you in a sack and take you to Spain, or they might just pretend to kick you. We don’t know for sure, but we want you to be prepared.”
This is the reward for living in Holland. As a child you get to hear this sto-ry, and as an adult you get to turn around and repeat it. As an added bonus, the government has thrown in legalized drugs and prostitution–so what’s not to love about being Dutch?
Oscar finished his story just as we arrived at the station. He was a polite and interesting guy–very good company–but when he offered to wait until my train arrived, I begged off, saying I had some calls to make. Sitting alone in the vast terminal, surrounded by other polite, seemingly interesting Dutch people, I couldn’t help but feel second-rate. Yes, it was a small country, but it had six to eight black men and a really good bedtime story. Being a fairly competitive person, I felt jealous, then bitter, and was edging toward hostile when I remembered the blind hunter tramping off into the Michigan forest. He might bag a deer, or he might happily shoot his sighted companion in the stomach. He may find his way back to the car, or he may wander around for a week or two before stumbling through your front door. We don’t know for sure, but in pinning that license to his chest, he inspires the sort of narrative that ultimately makes me proud to be an American.
Read more: http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ1202-DEC_SEDARIS#ixzz0PNBoOaH6
as the sun rises later and later and set earlier and earlier, this country is preparing to celebrate Christmas! the tiny cobbled streets with shops have been strung with lights hanging a few stories above the road. the shops are all decorated and people are generally cheery. with no Thanksgiving to stop the holiday 0nslaught after Halloween, plus some unusual traditions, it is already feeling like Christmas around here…sort of.
the Dutch version of Santa Claus is called Sinter Klaas and he arrives by boat from Spain on Nov. 14th. he also is accompanied by black faced helpers named Zwarte Piet (or Black Pete)…i defer to David Sedaris (see my other post) on this one. it suffices to say that Zwarte Piets look like pickaninnies to this Southern girl…and are really racially inappropriate! however, the Dutch people have made their peace with Zwarte Piets and along with all of the Sinterklaas pictures decorating stores, there are also black-faced people cheerily wishing me a Merry Christmas.
not wanting to miss this experience, my friends and i went to the parade to welcome Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piets and were stunned to see a bunch of little kids in black faced happily awaiting their candy to be passed out from the parade helpers… it was astounding and a truly memorable experience.
on Dec. 5, Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piets will be delivering gifts. i only hope i’ve been good so i don’t get sent back to Spain (i defer to Sedaris again). let’s just say Sinter Klaas is retributive!
since i still get to celebrate Christmas on Christmas, i think i made out like a bandit this year.
a Zwarte Piets helper
Sinter Klaas himself
so excited to see Sinter Klaas
a few weeks ago, I had the privilege of hosting my Mom and Tom on their first real vacation in a while…no pressure! 
they landed at Schipol in Amsterdam on Saturday morning and i promptly put all of us (plus Maria Elena & her crutch Timmy–used for a sprained ankle) on a train to Belgium just a few hours later. a little after lunch, we arrived in Bruges, Belgium and met up with John. Brugge is truly one of the most beautiful cities i have ever visited. the ancient buildings and cobblestoned streets comprise the entire city—not just the “old” section as in so many other European cities. to add to the feel, there are tons of horse drawn carriages which clip along the city all day long. In the film, “In Bruges,” Colin Farrel character describes Bruges as a fairy tale city. i have to concur. luckily for us, the trees were turning all manner of magnificent colors and stood out brightly against the drizzly weather. we enjoyed some lovely Belgian beers, saw most of the important sites, did some shopping. mostly we just enjoyed being away from reality.
my move into my upper 20s (gulp, 26) was lessened by my truly international celebration. I wasn’t expecting a spectacular day since I had a new project to start, but when I got back from an early meeting, my intern pals had left flowers on my desk. they had also put sticky notes with Happy Birthday in about 8 different languages all over my computer screen. it was super special. my Mom and Tom’s stay also overlapped my birthday. wanting to keep things low key, I asked my Mom to bring over some Southern cookin’ supplies to make black-eyed-pea soup and corn bread to serve for my birthday dinner. considering most of my intern friends thought black-eyed-pea were just the name of a band…they enjoyed it the novel and delicious meal. At dinner, my intern pals surprised me with a gorgeous scarf with matching necklace and earrings. they had sweetly listened to my sighs of “I don’t have any cool necklaces” and noticed what colors I like to wear best. and the next day, i had a lovely dinner with Mom and Tom and the great Italian place on my block. and, as if that weren’t enough, my lovely Claire surprised me two days later with a photo slideshow of all we’ve done since July + interns posing in various cities and locales with “Happy Birthday Becky” signs…and it was set to “Dancing Queen!” it was truly one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. i am so thankful for my friends here. i think 26 is going to be a good year!
luckily for me my cousin got engaged, asked me to be a bridesmaid, and had her wedding in Austin this past weekend. way to go Autumn! 
when I landed in Houston last week, I had been in Den Haag for a little over 4 months. given all of the life I’ve experienced since July, it felt like I’d been gone for a year. Now as i sit on the plane back to Amsterdam, i’m a little amazed at all I crammed into a 5 day visit! i managed to: buy Thanksgiving supplies, get a mani/pedi, be in a bridal party, attend a wedding, tear up a dance floor, see the majority of my family and close friends, talk about Jesus, explain Dutch culture and all i’ve been experiencing for the past months. of course, I ate my way through the State also. I consumed: Dad’s steak, Angie’s birthday cake, County Line BBQ, Maudie’s Tex-Mex, Coronas, Margaritas with lime, Starbucks Coffee (with Pumpkin Spice syrup…duh), and Spider House coffee. naturally, i also managed to drive several hundred miles across various FM highways in my SUV! the past weekend was truly a Texas weekend.
i think my concentrated dose of Texas was just the right way to head into my last 5 weeks in Europe. having tangibly felt the people and places that make home, i can go back and to my new home and suck the marrow out of European adventures left to be experienced.
a special thanks to my family for shuttling me and my stuff around. and, thanks to Sarah H, Sarah E, Mary Helen, Zach, and Paige for road tripping to see me!
me and my cousin Christie at the wedding site
me and the bride
me with Ang and Dad
hook em
me, Mary Helen, and Sarah
me and Zach at Spider House
one of the highlights of the cruise was stopping in the ancient city of Dubrovnik (which is on the mainland of Croatia). the city’s history dates back to the Roman empire, and then came under the control of the Ventian and Hungarian rule. needless to say, there are a lot of ruins in the city! while the city came under heavy attack during the Balkan Wars, UNESCO has paid for the city’s restoration. since we didn’t have time to explore every street in the city, we instead walked along the city walls which overlook the inside of the old city and also overlook the Adriatic Sea. it was breathtaking!
Mljet was my favorite island we visited. it boasts a giant national park complete with forests, some hills, and a natural salt lake. with a fairly strong current, there was even a natural lazy river attached to the lake. 
