Zondag: Gesloten

It's easy to forget, coming from the States, that there's such a thing as closed on Sunday. Sure, back home, both the corner store and the around-the-corner store are closed Sundays, but they're the exception, not the rule. Here, it turns out, everything is closed on Sunday, at least in the area of shops near my house. Everything, that is, except an ice cream shop and a little diner-type place where the guy speaks very little English but I still managed to order my food--seems I've come across the ocean to eat fries and drink coke. The shops are a kilometer or so from here--down Locatellistraat to Bennekelstraat. I'm most excited about the fact that there are two middle eastern markets--there's a huge immigrant population in this area. Now when I get homesick I'll have access to all the ingredients for childhood comfort foods.

I'm not sure when I'll manage to actually buy food, as I have to be at work at nine tomorrow. After I get off, I guess. I also have no idea how I'm getting to the housing office tomorrow to sign my contract...I'll just have to talk to Ineke about that tomorrow morning. I don't know how much of the first day is going to be finding my way around, arranging things, and meeting people, and how much is going to be talking with Martijn and getting to work on the project.

Locatellistraat is a narrow street of brick row houses. Number 26 (that's it in the picture) is a corner house, so we have more windows, but other than that it's unremarkable. This whole neighborhood is gorgeous--the streets are like Locatellistraat but with houses on both sides, and most of the tiny front yards have been turned into gardens. Here and there are beautiful parks, not as manicured as most American parks but a little wild, with undergrowth and towering trees. The flowers are in full bloom, adding color to the green that seems to be everywhere I look.

I'm happy. I'm really and truly happy here.
(A few hours ago I missed you so much it hurt, but now I'm okay.)