Not Alone, Just On My Own

My desk looks more and more like someone actually works at it--piled high with planning documents, sketches, logbooks, reference books, old coffee cups. There's a huge purple crocodile balanced between my moniter and that of the guy (what on earth is his name again?) who has the other desk in the pair. Usually in the office there's me, Arno, Martijn, Evert-Jan, Ewout, and Gregor--the only ones I know at all so far are Martijn (because we're working on the project together) and Arno (yesterday he had lunch with me and Martijn). Right now, it's just me. Everyone else is off at some lecture on campus.

Life is falling into a pattern. I wake up around 6:45 (jet lag is an amazing thing--I wonder how long these early mornings will last), try to fall asleep again for a few minutes, grab my computer and talk to Lindsay till I have to actually get up (often a bit longer), get ready, grab breakfast, and walk to work. Work all morning, Martijn and I go to lunch together, talk about life and work over lunch, then walk back to building 46 to keep working. Sometime around six I knock off and head home. Kill time reading, finishing my incomplete, fooling around on the internet...and talk to Lindsay until either he has to do something productive or I have to sleep.


After lunch today, Martijn and I took the time to walk around the lake with Jos and Andrei (two guys from research we ate lunch with). It was cold, windy, and beautiful. We talked about engineering, school, various majors. The nonsensical placement of a four-story parking garage right on the edge of the lake, instead of by the highway.

The Philips campus is gorgeous. Behind the Strip (three different dining halls, a gym, a bank, and a little store) is the lake, with a path that goes all the way around it, including a long section of boardwalk that zigzags over the water at one end. The buildings are connected to each other and the outside world by bike paths that run through what will someday be a forest--right up to the buildings are densely-planted trees with grass growing wild in between. it's not manicured or trimmed--just left to grow natural, and I think it's the prettiest landscaping I've ever seen. When the first glimpse every day of the building I work in is from a narrow gravel footpath through a growing forest, I know something's going right in life.

Speaking of life, it's coming together. I figured out last night that hot water in the bathroom depends on the radiator--the pipe from downstairs runs first to the radiator, then to the rest of the plumbing. I made it to the grocery store after work yesterday and stocked up on dinner ingredients, breakfast staples, and juice, as well was picking up a nice South African pinot (which I opened last night). My allergies are acting up lilke mad, but that's life. I figure tomorrow on my way to or from picking up my first paycheck from the payment office I'll drop by the little drugstore on Hoogstraat and see what they recommend for it. (See, darling? Reduced to the mundane. At least I'm taking pleasure in it now, rather than cursing it.)

I still miss being surrounded by people I love, but I'm feeilng more and more comfortable (and at home) here. Little things like not even noticing the coffee machine had an option for an English menu till today (I just don't need it), navigating the supermarket, saying "I live on Locatellistraat", paying for lunch with my badge. Picking out words when my coworkers are on the phone, or talking to each other. Being able to decipher the general meaning of some sentences and paragraphs in Dutch, a language I'd barely seen a week ago. It feels really good to be successfully navigating life here. Makes me a little more confident in my ability to really take care of myself. There's no one shielding me here, no one interfacing with the world for me. It's just me, my limited understanding of the language, and my (also limited) interpersonal skills. And I'm doing just fine--maybe even better than fine.