Wednesday, 7 July 2010


By now the mood in the Netherlands has gotten so orange - even I haven't escaped the fever. I have watched three (!!!) football matches so far and I even enjoyed it.

I don't really care about football. Two weeks ago the name Wesley Sneijder didn't ring any bells and in a month from now I will probably forget it.  I will probably never get the concept of offside.
I don't have a vuvuzela. I find tooting cars intimidating when I am cycling. I don't paint my face in 'Dutch' colours. And still I enjoy the World Cup.

So what is it I enjoy? I enjoy all things common: the talks, the expectations, watching the game together, having orange snacks together, being happy together. I enjoy the sense of belonging to a greater mass. The one dressed in orange and armed with vuvuzelas, bitterballen and beer. The one stuck to the screen at The Hague Central Station. The one tooting. The one laughing and jumping around. So much for my individuality.

Guess what my post next Sunday will be about? Unless I fall deeply in love and/or get a broken heart before that of course. With me you never know...

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