Queen for a day!
The highlight of my summer was always Saturday mornings. Whether in the city or staying at my Grandparent's cottage at the lake, Saturday mornings meant one thing, and one thing only -–Garage Sales! Yes, my Dad’s love of all things old (books in particular), and my Mom’s love of a good bargain were both instilled at a young age.
So, you can imagine that a Nation-wide garage sale/flea market is just about the most exciting it gets for me! Yes, this Saturday is Queen’s Day (Koninginnedag, for those of you brave enough to try your hand at the Dutch pronunciation, a Dutch national holiday (and pastime) that I have fallen head over heels in love with. Who can think of a better way to spend a spring day then a country-wide garage sale--accompanied by music, street food, drinks, and of course all things Orange!
"Every inch of the pavement in every city, town and village in the country is taken up with people squatting on rugs and plastic selling off mostly useless but strangely intriguing bric-a-brac" (Expatica)
Tonight is Queen’s Night, which is essentially just an excuse for a good party -- all in the name of Queen Beatrix. We have friends coming in from London and Germany (Queen’s day virgins) but even with a late night tonight, I will be dragging everyone out of bed tomorrow morning for an early start on the sales! As we all know, the number one rule for bargains is: early bird gets the worm!
Check out some pics below of Queen’s day festivities! (I'll post some of my own pics on Monday)
Its a small world, after all
I’m always amazed by what a small world it truly is. This week I received a dozen or so applications in my inbox. As I was shuffling through them, one jumped out in particular, as the cover letter was intriguing. I opened the attachment, and to my surprise the candidate was not only a fellow Canadian, but –a fellow Winnipegger! To make the situation even more coincidental, it turns out we also attended the same high-school (although a few years apart).
It isn’t actually the first time I’ve met someone from Winnipeg while living in Europe. Actually, to be honest, this time I wasn’t even so surprised (listen to me, all blaze ;). When I called the candidate to schedule an interview, I thought I’d let him in on our coincidence. Clearly this was his first encounter of the sorts, as he was downright amazed. The words “meant-to-be” and “fate” drifted their way into the conversation, and I almost regretted having mentioned it.
There are actually two other ‘peggers that I deal with regularly through my work. Both are based in Paris, and one also attended my former highschool (although 10 years before my time). Whenever our paths cross we end up discussing home; the last time we were there, what we miss, etc. And somehow, each and ever time without fail, our conversation leads to the almighty subject of: the weather.
I’m now fully aware of the eternal obsession Winnipeggers have with the weather (myself proudly included). We watch the weather channel as though its dishing out breaking news, we discuss the wind-chill factor at great lengths during the winter months, and I’ll admit, I often catch myself bragging about our -40C temperatures. This obsession is instilled in us as children, as I can’t remember a day that went by without some consultation on the weather, both at home and at school. It’s common schoolyard knowledge that when temperatures reach below -20C, recess is cancelled (something my 8 year-old-self spent many a day praying for, as indoor recess was the ultimate in fun). In fact, my earliest childhood memories involve watching the weather channel (channel 9, at that point) while being bundled up in my snowsuit and sent off to school.
And so, in this morning’s interview with the candidate from Winnipeg, it was really no wonder that we ended our chat with a brief rant about Amsterdam’s current weather, made all the worse, by the knowledge of sunny skies back home.
On Interviews, Amsterdam style
I have spent the better part of the last three weeks interviewing candidates for a position within my company. Unfortunately, my good friend and colleague, L, is relocating with her partner to the US of A, ASAP. I have tried to convince her to abandon her fiancée and stay in Amsterdam for my sake, but somehow she’s just not taking the bait (go figure!) And so, we have now sat through at least a dozen of the most painful interviews. I’m at a loss; are there really no qualified candidates in Holland at the moment, are my standards too high, or am I trying to replace an “irreplaceable” colleague/friend?
I have to admit my CV screening has not been without some prejudice. If you send me a CV with a mugshot-esque photo that sends shivers down my spine, how am I not suppose to think of you as anything but an escaped convict? Not to mention the loads of cover letters with spelling mistakes in their first sentences, or better yet, garbled emails written in text-message lingo, example: “r u still hiring 4 the position...L8R” (no comment!!!) Obviously, all of the above have quickly made their way to my overflowing recycling bin.
The interviews have been equally painstaking. Everything ranging from salary demands within the first 5 minutes (“I don’t work for less than $$$”), to bizarre requests (“I am only willing to take this job if my dog can come to work with me” or “Can I hire personal assistants?”), to drama (one hour into the interview: “Actually, I’m not interested in this job AT ALL!”).
There does appear to be some light at the end of the tunnel –we’ve now had two second interviews with very good candidates. Although neither are ideal, there is hope, and some equally promising CVs in my inbox this morning. Wish me luck!
Back to the land where the sun don't shine!
M. and I arrived back in Amsterdam last Thursday after a week of lazying about in Marbella. We were lucky enough to stay at a beautiful 5 star hotel (at a huge discount), and spent the week relaxing by the pool and hanging out with M.’s family. We had the best intentions of renting a car and driving along the coast and spending a few “culturally-rich” days in Granada, however when push came to shove, the confines of our five-star abode with its fluffy bathrobes, champagne breakfast and ocean views was far too difficult to tear ourselves away from.
The wedding was picture perfect, and an excellent study in “How to Successfully Combine 3 Different Cultures and 2 Contrasting Religions in one Wedding Ceremony”. The Bride was Greek (Orthodox) and the Groom, German-Israeli (Jewish). Extensive family had flown in from Germany, Greece, the United States, and Israel. The Rabbi (a native New Yorker now living in London. Yes, truly an eclectic mix at this wedding!) made a beautiful sermon on love’s blindness to race, religion, and culture.
The dinner reception was a page out of “My big fat Greek Wedding”, with spontaneous singing and dancing erupting in all corners of the hall. Although the first course had already been served, the majority of guests leaped out of their seats once the Greek band began to play. Of course, grumbling was heard by (non-Greek) guests who were shocked to see the main course served at 12:30am in order to accommodate the endless rounds of impromptu dancing and “O-pa”! I eventually joined in and spent most of the evening arms linked, spiralling into a sea of laughter and dance.
