I think we can all be forgiven if on occasion we feel slightly immune to what is happening.  Its too far away, its too great a tragedy to comprehend, it doesn't touch us personally.

I confess when I first saw the pictures, I was utterly guilty of skipping past them with a quick "Poor Haiti, hurricanes last year, earthquakes this year, they can't catch a break".  I'm certain I wasn't the only one. 

It probably would have remained just that for me, another tragedy somewhere in the world, but then my phone rang on Tuesday night.

By the cruelest of cruel twists of fate a friend from the past, who should have left the island the day before, was found in the wreckage of his building on Tuesday morning.  Nearly half way around the world his wife will be explaining to their baby that his father isn't coming home this week and in fact won't be coming home again.

Yesterday, after our little group of friends connected themselves again by phone, by e-mail, by thought across the globe, I pulled down my photo album.  There in the pages they were, my friends smiling up at the camera from a huge group hug around a dinner table.  Blissfully in love, several months from marriage, years from their baby being born and the tragedy lurking in the distance.  They were the fairy tale love story.  I know this, because I helped introduce them.  I was there when they bounced starry eyed from their first date absolutely convinced in love at first sight because it had now happened to them. 

As with many expat friendships, time and distance stretched between us with only sporadic news coming from mutual friends.  Nevertheless I am devastated for them.  That life could be so unutterably cruel.  I am shocked to my core that now two people are gone from my photo album, less than eight years after it was compiled and way, way before their time.

If you have any spare change this month, please consider donating it to one of the relief appeals for Haiti.  I will be doing so for a little boy whose memories of his father will now only be the memories of other people, in the hope that another family may be saved from such heartache.

In the Netherlands you can donate through Giro555.

My unscheduled absence from the blog is entirely due to the pregnancy.  While everything is going as it should I have been utterly shocked to my core at the physical changes exerted on my body almost from the day I found out.  I shan't bore you with tales of relentless nausea or lists of the foods which I can no longer stomach or the bone crushing tiredness which comes on about two hours after I get out of bed and lasts for the rest of the day.  Suffice to say I thought I was prepared, planned and ready for all of this.  I was staggeringly wrong.

In between times though I have had bursts of energy (most have regrettably had to be channeled at work otherwise they are going to stop paying me.) others have been more creative.  Such as the following recipe which accompanied me to a glorious cheese and wine party on 2e kerstdaag. My apologies for the terrible photo.  It was a quick snap with the iPhone before the hoards descended.

IN THE KITCHEN: Pear and Cranberry Stuffed Camembert

INGREDIENTS:

1 pack of puff pastry (I found packs in the frozen section of the local Deen supermarket.  They were only available in packs of 10 small squares so I smooshed them all together re-rolled them and it worked just fine.  Of course, if you can find prerolled puff pastry so much the better.)

1 pear, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

2 tbsp dried cranberries

1 tbsp butter

2 tbsp light brown sugar

1 camembert

1 egg, beaten

DIRECTIONS:

Pre-heat your oven to 200 degrees centigrade.

Divide your puff pastry into two pieces. 

Roll out each piece to approximately 2-3mm thick on a floured surface.

Cut 1 piece into a circle approximately 2cm bigger than your camembert.

Cut the second piece into a circle approximately 6-7 cm bigger than your camembert, reserving the scraps for decoration.

Transfer the larger circle of pastry to a baking sheet covered with baking paper/parchment/a silicon slipmat.

Cut your camembert round in half and lay the bottom half on the large pastry circle, cut side up.

Heat the butter and sugar in a frying pan/skillet.

Add the pear slices and cook for 5 minutes turning gently until softened.

Add the cranberries and cook for another 2 minutes.

Carefully pile the pears and cranberries onto the cut side of the camembert.  Try not to get too much of the cooking liquid onto the pile as it will make the pastry soggy.

Place the remaining half of the camembert onto the pear and cranberry topped half, cut side down.

Brush the edges of the lower pastry circle with beaten egg.

Gently lay the larger circle of pastry of the pile of camembert and fruit.  Press the sides down carefully onto the lower circle of pastry.

Seal the two circles of pastry together by pressing the edges with a fork.

Brush the outside all over with beaten egg.

Bake in the oven for 20 minutes.

Set aside for 10 minutes before serving to avoid burning your mouth on molten cheese and also to stop the parcel collapsing into mush as soon as you cut into it.

OPTIONAL:

• Add 1/2 tsp of ground cinnamon or ginger to the pear and cranberry mixture whilst cooking it.
• Cut shapes out of the reserved pastry and "glue" them to the top of the parcel with more beaten egg before baking.  Don't forget to brush the tops of the shapes as well.
• Try substituting the pear and cranberry mix for 1 apple and 2 tbsp of sultanas or a small handful of raspberries with toasted almonds (you will not need to cook the raspberries and almonds in butter and sugar.  Just put them in "raw".)
• For an extra glossy finish, after you have brushed the pastry once with beaten egg set it aside for 10 minutes and then re-coat with another wash of beaten egg.

PLEASE NOTE:

In the picture I had just folded one large circle of pastry over the cheese and folded the excess underneath.  This was a BAD idea as it meant that I had a lot of thick pastry areas when it was cooked which is why I have modified the instructions above to a much better (in my opinion) method.

I have lived in 15 houses across 5 countries and speak 3 languages with varying degrees of fluency depending on the day (Dutch is not one of them).

I have held down 6 jobs since leaving university 11 years ago.

I met my husband 42,168 hours ago, we were engaged 992 days later and married 295 days after that.

I am 13 weeks and 3 days pregnant.

In 187 days (give or take) I am going to be somebody's Mummy.

Of everything I have done, of everything I have achieved in my 12,316 days on the planet, this is by far the most terrifying and exhilarating that I have ever faced.

I find myself lacking in inspiration.  The mundane tramps through my world with relentless frequency.  Furniture issues, check.  Boiler choosing to work only when it feels like it just as the weather changes?  Oh the joys of home ownership.  My blog is littered with half written draft posts.  The abadoned children of my skittish brain.  Somehow, the ducks on the canal are too captivating, other people's blogs are too compelling to get round to mine.

So tell me, those of you who are still reading along, what sparks your blog mojo, where does your inspiration come from to write those posts I enjoy reading so much on your blogs?

In the meantime, I'll be lifting the rugs to see where my mojo is hiding.

Via We Heart It

Sharon of the Expats Moving and Relocation Guide sent me a link to a giveaway she is hosting at the moment for a copy of Danielle Barkhouse's book - The Expat Arc: An Expat's Journey Over Culture Shock.

To win a copy of the book click here, and submit your expat story. 

I've been quite lucky and only really experienced culture shock in one of the countries I've lived in.  However, I know it can effect people quite deeply and isn't widely talked about which can make identifying it even harder.

Isabella over at Touch of Dutch has covered culture shock in great depth and if you want to know more about it and how she coped with it I would strongly recommend reading through her archives, in particular this post, which serves as a good diagnostic guide.

Or so I keep being told. 

My Dutch teacher tells me that the Dutch use about 8,000 words (of the 240,000 contained in the Dikke Van Dale, accepted to be the leading dictionary in the Netherlands.  Compared to the 750,000 the Oxford English Dictionary believes the English language to contain).  If these 8,000 words, he believes that only 2,000 make up 85% of Dutch day to day conversation.

Great, so I can just memorise Het woordenboek van Vos en Haas, containing 1000 words and I will be half way there.  Or will I?

The thing is, Dutch is very difficult, apparently.  All the Dutch people keep telling me it is, so it must be true.  Having (somewhat swiftly, I feel) deduced from my blank expression that I did not speak enough Dutch to follow what she was saying my new neighbour slipped easily into English with me yesterday.  "So," she says "now you are staying here, are you learning Dutch?", "why yes," I say, "I think its really important to speak the language of the country you're living in".  "Oh, but its so difficult" says the neighbour with a smile, "Dutch is really, really difficult".  "Mm-hmm" I shrug, non-commitally, a tight smile on my lips.

Here's the thing though, and please tell me if you think differently, I'm not actually sure it is that difficult.  Not to be blase about it, because learning a language is no small undertaking.  However, I already speak two languages with varying degrees of proficiency other than my mother tongue.  I managed to learn them, what is it about Dutch that makes it so difficult, so apparently impossible to learn?

Well, first of all, the fact that almost every Dutch person I have spoken to about learning Dutch, tells me its difficult - that's a fairly major obstacle right there.  How motivated will you be to start learning when the very people you want to communicate with stop you in your tracks before you have even begun?

Something else I hear quite frequently is "Oh, but you don't need to speak Dutch, everybody speaks English".  Well, yes, to a point, but let's look at this more closely.  Not everybody speaks English, small children for example, do not speak English.  I am absolutely unable to communicate past smiles, tickles and the occasional word with our other neighbour's gorgeous baby daughter.  In England I wouldn't hesitate to offer to mind her for a couple of hours if the neighbour needed me to, here I can't, who wants somebody to mind their child who couldn't understand what the child needed?  Our ex-neighbour didn't speak English, unusal granted but proof that not everybody speaks English.

My Dutch teacher has an interesting theory about why the Dutch are so hesitant to allow others to speak their language, specifically those from neighbouring countries because, I'm sure you have noticed they are very adamant that other countries speak Dutch if they live here, Turkey and Morrocco would be the immediate examples which spring to mind.  In fact, Utrecht is so determined to ensure that people speak Dutch that they are planning to cut the benefits of those who do not speak Dutch to a sufficient level.  My Dutch teacher feels that it is all about control.  The Dutch are surrounded by countries who have in the past posed a threat, what better way to gain a sense of control than to control language and communication?  The Dutch are renowned for their command of languages, English, French and German are all taught a very high level in schools.  If they speak all the languages they can understand and control what is going on.  It also gives a subtle sense of importance to the recipient "Oh, don't worry about speaking our little language, your language is so important that we've learnt it and we are happy to speak to you in it"  That's a fairly substantial message to send someone, albeit subconciously.

Of course, there is an argument that protected by EU law, EU nationals do not need to speak the language of the country they are living in.  We have freedom of movement throughout the EU.  The reality though is somewhat different.  I simply cannot imagine how I would have got by in Paris or  Bologna without speaking French and Italian, however appallingly.  It wasn't a requirement, but it was a necessity.  Nobody ever said to me, "Don't try to speak French in Paris, everyone speaks English".  Well, that's true, for the most part they do but if you want to get anything done, you better start speaking French, and speaking it quick.  It is expected of you.  Not only that, but it is a common courtesy to your host country to make an effort to fit in.  It is your choice to live there after all.

So where does this leave me with Dutch, I don't need it, I've proved that in the last couple of years of living here but I do want to speak it, and now its a challenge - I must speak it, because people keep telling me I can't.  Perverse, but true, nothing motivates me like being told I can't do something.

As part of my course I am meant to do three things each day to bring me closer to my goal of speaking Dutch.  So far I have been reading and absorbing Dutch Word of the Day, completeing my online course work, commiting to try to speak in Dutch before I ask "Sprecht U Engels?".  Do you have any other suggestions for me?  What else could I add to my list to keep me challenged and motivated?

From the study, the Lovely Husband kept up a steady stream of heavy sighs and inventive curses.  Quarter 3 VAT returns.  Time for me to get out of the way.

I have been trying to get to Pure Markt all summer, but what with moving, holiday and forgetting it was on I just hadn't made it.  The sunny weather and a whole empty day stretched ahead of me saw me hopping on my bike and cycling the 16km roundtrip to Park Frankendael to spend some time there.

Pure Markt is a cross between an English Country Fair and a Farmer's Market.  There is specialist produce galore, clothing, books and entertainment for the children.  Set back from the Middenberg entrance of Park Frankendael, I locked my bike up at De Kas Restaurant (definitely on my list, a restaurant with its own greenhouse producing vegetables for the kitchen?  Heaven.) and followed the path towards the brightly coloured awnings.

While Pure Markt was not huge, there was enough to keep me occupied for an hour or so as I browsed the stalls, with a proefglas of Bulgarian Sparkling Rose in my hand.

Everything was so tempting, I wanted to take it all home with me, but restraint and the advance planning of having limited cash in my wallet meant that I made my selections carefully and only a tin of sweet smoked paprika, a cheddar like sheep cheese and a box of Maldon Sea Salt made it into my basket.

I left as the sun started its descent, happily munching a crisp, hot gallette stuffed with gruyere, walnuts and truffle creme to the strains of the jazz band playing in the park.

Pure Markt runs again next month on the 25th of October before taking a break for the Winter.  It returns in March 2010.

On Saturday I met up with Lizzy, her partner E and Amanda to try out a Vegetarian Boat trip organised by Eat Green, a vegetarian social networking site backed by the Dutch Vegetarian Society (NVB). 

Had I not already been sold by the opportunity to meet a couple of the Amsterdam Expat bloggers, the free hapjes (canapes) and goody bag would have compelled me there anyway.

After watching a wedding head off before the boat arrived we clambered aboard to be met with a choice of vegetarian wines, beers and soft drinks.  E tried the beer while the girls stuck to an excellent Pinot Grigio from the Veneto region of Italy.

Next up, hapjes.  Between us we managed to try everything on offer.  I can personally vouch for the beetroot with cheese cream, the sauerkraut and blue cheese wrap and the peanut and coconut spicy soup.  All of which I would happily prepare at home.  I didn't manage to convert Lizzy to beets though, yet.

Lizzy and E had to leave to meet friends for dinner so Amanda and I stayed aboard for the return trip, more wine and more hapjes.   Letting Amsterdam glide past the window in the sunshine.

As we disembarked we were handed our goodie bags, containing a vegetarian cookboook, wooden spatula, fruit and vegetables and other bits and pieces.

Amanda and I continued on to a bar overlooking the water where we continued to put the world to rights as the sun set over Amsterdam.

The original Thanksmas was held by two of my (now) closest friends who knew one person in their new town.  They sent him out with an instruction to bring his friends to dinner.  He invited about five of us and the party went on until the small hours.  The following year the guest list had expanded and changed due to people moving on and new acquaintances.  We kept attending Thanksmas until the hosting couple left for their next expat location and Thanksmas died out.

No longer.  Thanksmas is back and Angela has graciously offered to host.  Lizzy has set up a forum post on her page to coordinate date choices and organise who will contribute what to a pot luck dinner. 

Amsterdam Expats head on over to Lizzy's post for more information.

By complete coincidence I am in the final planning stages of meeting the original Thanksmas hosts in Paris for a reunion weekend at the end of October.  There will be five of us there who attended the first Thanksmas and nine who attended the second, I lose count after that.  Since then, between us we will be adding into the mix four marriages, eight babies and seven country moves.  Long live Thanksmas.

"These are water catchers.  We apologise for the inconvenience"

Tsk, my translators brain thought, what sloppy translation.  It was an accurate translation from a structure point of view from Dutch to English but for me, appeared to have entirely missed the intention of the phrase which in English I would have translated along the lines of:

"These are water catchers.  We apologise for any inconvenience they may cause you"

Granted I was tired and in a hurry but it started me thinking, in the Netherlands I frequently come across examples of people doing things to a "just good enough" level and being perfectly satisfied with it whereas I, a die hard perfectionist spend most of my time beating myself up for tiny imperfections which noone else appears to be aware of.  This is in no way meant to imply that people in the Netherlands don't have high standards or are disorganised - that is absolutely not the case, it is more of an observation that the balance of attention to detail versus job done-ness seems to be much healthier.

Which is not to say that this applies universally, sometimes the sheer staggering incompetence of some humans leaves me breathless.  In case you are wondering, chair company, I am absolutely talking about you.  I understand that we have agreed not to talk until October since the last phone call where I had been waiting in all day for you to deliver the chair, as promised, only to finally call and have you tell me that it was on a boat back to China due to a problem with the entire shipment.  It wasn't a pretty call.  Believe me, when I finally trade in my current temporary chair for the chair I actually bought from you I am so naming and shaming you.  You have been warned.

I am wondering therefore, given that I have this inhibiting need for things to be perfect, which inevtiably leads to disappointment, how do I go about achieving a better balance between maintaining high standards and not berating myself for every tiny slip up.

In other words, when is good enough, really good enough?

This is something I need to consider at the moment as I have just signed up for a 5 week intensive Dutch course.  I've tried both evening classes (good for counting and basic phrases) and individual lessons (excellent for grammar) since I moved here but still don't feel that I have fully engaged with the language.  I still can't speak more than a few words of Dutch, although my reading has improved.  Much of this is due to the fact that I work in English and do not have a workplace where I interact with Dutch colleagues.  I have very little exposure to Dutch on a day to day basis and arguably could get (and have got) along quite happily with only the few stock phrases that I know.

The problem is that as it says at the top of the screen, we are building a home here and to really be at home here I need to speak the language.  Of course I could rely on the language skills of the Dutch people around me but that doesn't sit well with me.  I have always been able to communicate in the language of the country I am living in to a greater or lesser degree and I really feel that if you are going to live somewhere you should make the effort to integrate as much as possible.  More than that though, I truly love our life here and I want to understand more about how this country ticks and why it has such a draw for me.

I also really want to avoid the kind of days Lily over at FatBrideSlim has been having.  I feel her pain, I really do.  I remember trying to order tea in Paris one day and totally failing to make myself understood over a one syllable word.  In near tears of frustration I finally got my order across only to have it repeated back to me as "Oh you want a "taaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy", as if I was the most incompetent creature ever to have walked the planet.  Yes, I want to extend a one syllable word to a 30 second noise, whatever...

Jess over at MakeUnderMyLife, has been exploring a similar theme on her blog recently as she reads Pursuit of Perfect by Tal Ben Shahar.  I've just ordered a copy and should get my hands on it in time for my flight home tomorrow.  I'll let you know how I get on.  In the meantime, any tips or tricks on how you avoid the perfection trap, or how you learnt Dutch, would be more than welcome.