Making sense of the world

Breaking the daily grind

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Wed, 18 Jun 2014 12:43:00 +0000

This morning, just like every weekday, my alarm rang at 6.40 AM. Only this time I didn't get up for breakfast and get on the 8.03 train to The Hague Central Station. No, today I got up to get down on it at Morning Gloryville Amsterdam. This early morning rave (which of course first started in London) was held at Club Lite, which just happens to be across the street from my place. Surrounded by people who were dressed in fitness gear, barefoot, in full party attire, high heals or pajamas's, I woke up with a beat.

For me, the idea of working from nine to five in my field is old-fashioned, mostly because I personally do not function well sitting behind a computer or in meetings for eight hours straight (who does?). Of course, it comes in handy to be at the office when colleagues are there too, but sometimes working alone late at night is what I need a lot more. The daily grind does not inspire me even though I am often in good company on the train and even try to liven it up with sweet notes to fellow commuters. In Jakarta, I always asked my motorbike driver to take a different route to work, just to tickle my brain a bit...

Luckily, my current employer is flexible and supports people to try out other ways of working. So, I ended up on the dance floor with two colleagues this morning at 7. Thus far, I have worked like a machine! Maybe it's because I've had a chance to my shake up my week, loosen up my body and laugh out loud - all before 9AM.

Reporters from the Dutch news were there too!

No, YOU're amazing!

Butterfly taking a break

Massage and yoga on spot

Yeah, hugs!

May 2014 be as funky as 2013 was!

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 07 Jan 2014 21:45:00 +0000

Happy new year! May 2014 bring you lots of happiness, compassion and love.

As I always do during the last days of the year, I looked back on the previous year. Overall conclusion: 2013 was a very good year. I spent quality time with the people I love, met a lot of new and inspiring people in the most amazing locations and learned a lot. I learned for instance how to keep on walking with feet covered in blisters and a fever that made me delirious.

The things I am most proud of:

Walked more than 650 kilometers to Santiago de Compostela
Wrote about 100 lieve brieven
Put up a Dreamboard with Liliane
'Married' my friends Brittany and Philippe (I officiated the ceremony)
Organised (and presented) an Ignite event
Started driving lessons again
Ate a grasshopper

Some other highlights:

Visited London with my sister Ayla
Learned about critical connections with Gibran (in Nicaragua)
Went on the camino (with its own highlights: the first albergue, Paul's last dinner, foodie day with Suzanne, the preacher, meeting Johnny Redsocks, arriving in Santiago)
Being in Porto with Pim
Visiting Kanchanaburi and the Saxophone bar in great company
Did a Sweat Lodge with the fantastic Angelique
Learned about being centered and strong all around through practicing Taikiken

In 2013 I got to know some people I already knew a lot better, for which I am very grateful. Also I met a lot of new remarkable people in 2013. Thank you for making 2013 such a fantastic adventure!

Five lessons learned from the camino

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Mon, 11 Nov 2013 22:08:00 +0000

Even though I had promised to keep you all updated of my progress during my walk to Santiago de Compostela, I did not. Surprisingly enough, I really did not feel like sharing my experiences while I was still walking. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, and take time to digest everything. And guess what? I MADE IT! I walked about 650 kilometers and arrived in Santiago strong and deeply touched (read: crying like a baby).

It was the most amazing experience! For 28 days I walked. I got up between 6 and 7, had a cafe con leche with toast or a chocolate croissant and went on the road. Every day I walked 20 to 30 kilometres in about 6 hours. Every day I sang this song, waking up some of my fellow pilgrims:

People ask me if I have seen the light in Spain or if I have turned Christian and the answer is that I haven't. However, I did pick up some pieces of wisdom from the great people I met along the way. Here are five lessons I learned during my camino:

1. If blisters are your worst problem, your life is pretty good

On the camino life is brought done to the basics. You walk, eat, sleep and walk again. What you need is a strong and healthy body. If you have a blister (or two, or three), walking suddenly becomes a lot less fun. Even though I walked out of a village crying behind my sunglasses because of my blister pain, I could still see that this was not the end of the world. So, I said thanks. Every day. For all the good stuff in my life; the fantastic people I met, my own strong (!) body, the support from my friends and family back home. It's good to be able to see things in perspective.

2. Always trust the yellow arrows

Every day you follow the yellow arrows that are painted on walls and trees everywhere. Sometimes they appear just as you start to get worried you may have missed a turn. Steve Jobs says he connected the dots looking back, meaning that his choices in life only started to make sense to him afterwards. The yellow arrows on the camino made me realise that it's important to trust that things will make sense. In the end we will arrive somewhere cool knowing that what mattered was the journey, and so when we feel lost we can trust a yellow arrow will eventually appear.

3. Unfollow patterns

A rigid kind of discipline ruled on some parts of the camino. There was one hostel where the staff came barging in at 6.25 saying that we had to get up and have breakfast, because we needed to be out the door by 8. The lady even squeezed my friend's toe saying that she slept way too long! The routine was: get up, pack your bag, tape the toes (or any other hurt body part), and walk. Walk fast so that you could arrive early at the next hostel and secure a bed. Some people were quite stressed and after two weeks I decided to not be stressed out by them. Yes, I got up early and walked my part every day, but I realized I did not want to just do what we mostly do in our daily lives; go with the routine and forget about our purpose.

4. Let go

My first days on the camino I spent fantasizing about throwing away or sending back items for my backpack as it was breaking my back. It was about eight kilos and I wanted it lighter. It kept me busy for hours and hours in a row. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Until I did. After that, I hardly felt the bag during the last weeks. Somehow I had gotten used to the weight and was able to let go.

5. Make friends

My camino was about many things, but more than anything it was about making friends. I met some fantastic people I hung out with a lot. We had great conversations, lots of fun, went through hardship together and became camino families in the end. I cannot wait to go again...

Here my friend Vicky and me sing 'We are going', the song she sang introducing herself at the firsthostel we stayed at.

Slowly turning into a pilgrim

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sat, 25 May 2013 12:45:00 +0000

It’s still hard to believe, but I am off. The past weeks, I have prepared; finished my work, went on a couple of walks, had a physical therapist look at my knee (there’s nothing wrong with it!) and bought or borrowed all the necessary stuff.
Everyone has been very supportive and have been telling me how cool and couragious I am for doing this. I am not sure whether this is particularly helpful, because I feel quite intimidated. Me, unexperienced and not sportive, trying a thing like this. Well, at Rotterdam airport from where I write you I already overhear other ‘pilgrims’ talking and I feel excitement run through my vains. I am ready for it, so yes: I am really doing this! My objective: go with the flow, listen to my body and be in the moment. That’s all.

Even though I tried to keep it light, I carry 7 kilo’s (I aimed for 5). Honestly speaking, I am a bit disappointed in myself. In my opinion I have let go of any idea of wanting to look good and still don’t know which of my stuff I could get rid off, weightwise. For those interested in the details, this is what I have with me:

A lightweight sleeping bag
A silk sleeping bag (in case it gets hot, I can send home the sleeping bag)
One pair of long trousers
One pair of shorts
One pair of threequarter running tights
One pair of ‘fishermans pants’
A legging
Rainpants
One t-shirt for sleeping (cotton)
Two shortsleeved shirts
One longsleeved shirt
One armless top
A windstopper
A fleece sweater
A raincoat

My walking shoes
Sandals
Extra soles (more support)
Walking sticks

A hat
Sunglasses
A shawl (that can also serve as a sarong)

Shampoo
Shower cream
Sunscreen

Vitamins
Arnica pills
Ibuprofen
T3 oil
Nose spray

Footcream
Blister band-aids
Tape
Magic desinfecting powder from India
- in ziplock bags inside a waterproof pouch

Passport
Wallet
Travel pouch
A little black Moleskine book
My iPhone
Extra battery
Security pins (for hanging laundry)
Water pouch

I will soon let you know which things I have left behind

An ode to Marieke

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 01:42:00 +0000

In the past two weeks, through work, I have met four amazing Dutch women, all by the name of Marieke, albeit written in differently in one case (Mariken). Over lunch in Costa Rica the father of my colleague asked me what that weird name was we kept on repeating. He thought we said 'Marika' which in Spanish is colloquial for 'gay'. But in Colombia (or at least in Cartagena) they use it to refer to anyone, not always in the most positive way. In the Netherlands, however, it's a very normal name. Whether you think it's a weird name or not, Mariekes rock!

An assignment Marieke made me do.

Marieke is a passionate Design Thinker and devotes all her time to helping people think differently in order to come up with solutions to their problems or to invent new things. She told me she does not separate working hours from leisure time, because she loves what she does so much. Mariken bursts with energy and great ideas. She is an entrepreneur that brings people together in order to make the world a better place. Our first encounter lasted three days, as we kept on running into each other. Nice detail: she was the 200th 'liker' of Meer Lieve Brieven. Marieke is a player. Not with men, or well, I don't know her that well yet. Playing and helping others to play more is her thing. She's started the 'Speelkwartiertjes Club', an open group of people that play a fifteen minute daily game online on her cue. Dutchies: Join us! Marieke lives in Costa Rica, but she was born and (partially) raised in Indonesia. She abandoned the world of do-gooders to work in the private sector for a while, but is now back to facilitate workshops differently and to get people out of their comfort zones.

Thank you, ladies, for inspiring me. This one is for you.

*This is not even mentioning some of the other cool Mariekes I know. For instance: Marieke founded Ubuntu and now teaches fantastic Kundalini yoga classes in Amsterdam.

Pessimism as a driving force?

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 21:32:00 +0000

Recently, I wrote about my granddad Tjibbe, and how much he enjoys his daily dose of sambal. Even though Boersma's indeed like it hot and in general have quite a good dose of self mockery, we are also a bit heavyhearted at times. I know this might be hard to imagine given my mostly (often, sometimes) cheerful disposition. But I think it can be said: We Boersma's are a bunch of pessimists.

My dad with my sister Ayla, pessimists?

Just last week I went out for a very lively and tasty dinner with my dad and I realized that he seems to have given up on the world - in the sense that he cannot see what he could contribute to change course. I had quite recently also almost done so, but have slightly regained faith (because of initiatives such as Your Lab and podcasts like this one by Chris Turner on TVO). To be honest, I am in part to blame for my dad's dark outlook on the future; I gave him 'Guns, Germs and Steel', a book by Jared Diamond describing how humans have been pursuing commercial gain and bringing forth destruction since the beginnings of history. I have not yet read the book - even though every time I see my dad, he tells me to. So, I guess I should. I did already read another book by Mister Diamond and it did not really cheer me up.

Goofy and happy (with drop, THE best Dutch invention ever), yet downright pessimists

While riding my bike home, I realized that yes, the odds seem to be against us as a humankind. We have created islands of plastic, are consuming much more than the environment can handle and have created an economic system that seems beyond repair. Of course, my dad is right in many ways: we cannot all live lavish lives and solve our global issues at the same time. I know he's right about the hypocrisy in me, in so many of us - we do want it all. But, instead of sitting around waiting for the world to end, I would rather do something more fun and rewarding. It could be organizing massive street games so we can go down playing. Or something to try to prevent the end of the world from happening anytime soon.

One of my recurring thoughts is to start a re-fill shop. This would be a place where you can come with your empty bottles and fill them up with shampoo, dish soap, olive oil or soy sauce. You can bring jars and fill them with rice, pasta, salt or dried beans. It'll be a tiny little thing, but heck, it's something. So, let's get to work. Who's with me on the re-fill shop?

Only if you can handle it: Jared Diamond on "Why Societies Collapse?"

Mind my business, please. Don't worry, I will yours!

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 22:07:00 +0000

You know, I have had it. I am fed up with weird behaviour. Yes, 'weird' may be a rather subjective term, and yes, there is also a good type of weird - so allow me to clarify. Taking the train in Holland every day confronts me with some forms of human interaction, which to me seem wrong. Just plain wrong. People try not to sit near to each other, keep interaction to the lowest possible minimum and often are not even polite. It's awkward, unfriendly or even rude. I have started writing sweet letters in the first place to remind myself that we can also choose to be nice to each other. Just because we can.

A good kind of weird! (by Miriam van Oort)

Just now, I was on the train with my mother (after visiting my grandmother, a 2,5 hour train ride, one-way) and a girl in the four-seater opposite us, had her feet on the chairs in front of her. A lady came in and asked her very friendly if she could take them down. The girl responded "Why, there's enough space on the train, no?" and when the lady insisted that shoes on chairs made them dirty and that the girl's reaction was not very social, the girl replied "Don't have anything better to do than bug me? Don't you have a life?". I then could not take it anymore and was reminded of my pledge to mind other people's business. I said "Stop acting so weird! The lady asks you nicely if you want to take your shoes down". The girl put her earplugs back in and pretended we all were not there.

I am sick and tired of this. I don't want to be part of a society in which people interact this way. The girl's behaviour was weird, but what I find even weirder is that normally, no one would support the complaining lady. They would pretend not to hear anything and simply look away. THAT, to me, is the weirdest part! Maybe my pledge will get me into trouble (in this case, I knew there were two guys behind us and I had made eye contact with the Spanish couple in front AND I am taking Chinese boxing classes - in other words, I was not scared of an attack) and maybe I will not keep my pledge when it concerns a group of four big men - but I just want to make a plea:

Please, let's mind each other's business again… Let's stand up for one another, take care of one another. Yes? Okay, good.

Footnote: Right after this incident the train conductor informed us that a passenger was having a heart attack and that he needed a doctor. The Spanish guy appeared to be one, so we went to help out (Me as the translator obviously. What else?). There were two other doctors on the train (how is that possible?), but I was happy with my pledge now. By telling the Spaniards why the train wasn't moving (and minding their business), he could have saved a life (in this case, hopefully others did).

About the situation of my poor grandma, the state of our Dutch healthcare system and the way our society treats the elderly, I will rant some other time. But I did shed a tear about it. Sad.

Boersma's like it hot

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 14:31:00 +0000

Meet my granddad, Tjibbe. He served for four years in Indonesia from in the forties. Yes, during this time the Dutch colonial government violently tried to hold on to its colony. Recently (sparked by photos of mass executions), discussions arose again about the amount of violence used by the Dutch. There is quite some re-writing of history be done.

The young Boersma in the Dutch Indies

However, my grandfather speaks only with a happy spark in his eyes about the time he spent in the Dutch Indies (the Dutch still considered Indonesia as the Dutch Indies until 1949). He signed up voluntarily and even falsified his father's autograph in order to be able to go. He loved the climate, the people, and the food. These days his health does not allow him to eat anything spicy, but there is no way the doctors (or my grandma, for that matter) can make him stop eating sambal (Indonesian hot chilly sauce).

Sambal in the soup

Flying perfectly - 5 tips from a flying Dutchwoman

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sat, 16 Feb 2013 14:17:00 +0000

I hate to brag, but I have perfected my long distance travel experience. Perfected it. This realisation came to me after a lady next to me on the plane made me itch as I saw her bumping in against everything with her three pieces of carry-on luggage and after overhearing an elderly Italian lady curse (Che cazzo! or did she say Brutto figlio di puttana bastardo?) when a security officer asked her to take her shoes off at the boarding gate security check. We humans learn slowly and I guess I just got fed up of making the same mistakes over and over again. I figured you all might as well benefit from my learning process :)

So, here are the 5 things I think you should do to have a fantastic long distance flight!

Travel Light

Stick to the rules and bring no more than the amount of kilo's you are allowed to take (This includes you, my Indonesian friends!). Don't overpack and 'think it will be okay', because you will end up being nervous at check-in, or paying for overweight. Just buy yourself a good bag which will not allow you to pack too much stuff. I have been using Tatoinka's business roller for at least seven years now and it rocks big time. Besides wheels it also has straps so it can be used as a backpack in case of emergency. The size can be adjusted and it has a small backpack that can be zipped on and off on the front. I love my bag. Usually, I take around 18 kilo's with me, wherever I go.

This is what I brought when leaving to Colombia for six months

Don't be afraid to look like a hippy with a hangover

When I hop on a plane, I usually look like a hippy tourist, even if I am travelling for work. Yes, I look slightly ridiculous, but hey! I want to be comfortable and warm above all other things. So, I wear a 'harem' pants (as my mom calls them. Is this even their official name?), a long sleeve shirt, a sweater and sneakers. This way I also don't need a belt, which saves me time at the security queue. For women it's very important not to wear tight pants during a long flight. I hope you girls know why, so I don't have to go into details here :) I always bring a big scarf, which I can use to hide under if I want to sleep or when I get cold. Oh, and socks! I bring a pair of thick socks… I hate cold feet.

No harem pants in this case, but certainly easy-going...

Hydrate

Don't bring bottles of water on the plane. You know this. So why is that still many people do it? Every single time! Well, the intention to drink a lot during the flight is a good one at least. Make sure you drink enough. Take every opportunity for drinking something, because flying really dries you out! A positive side effect of drinking a lot is that it will make you get up and pee. Move! Do some exercises while you're at it. Also, bring moisturiser to keep your skin hydrated, it suffers during the flight.

Keep it simple

In order to make sure you can get through the baggage and body check, don't wear jewellery, belts or shoes with steel in them. Also, just bring one piece of carry on luggage. I usually bring my backpack and a tiny purse where I keep my passport on the plane. If you have a laptop with you, take it out of your bag at the security check, please!

Do bring a pillow, an eye-cover and a shawl to keep it comfy!

Drink tomato juice, eat ice cream and enjoy!

Apparently, our taste buds go crazy in the air, so enjoy it! Drink tomato juice or other things you usually don't like. Explore to see what happens! Don't drink too much coffee or alcohol - these will dehydrate you even more. KLM's in-flight service usually offers something salty (crisps or noodles) and ice-cream after 8 hours or so. This really doesn't make any sense to me, but I always secretively look forward to the ice cream.

Oh, and enjoy the feeling of arriving at your long awaited destination!

Granada, Nicaragua

The journey starts today

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 19:56:00 +0000

How it happened, I am not sure, but somewhere around Christmas I had suddenly made a decision: This summer I will walk the last part of the camino to Santiago de Compostela. With the last part, I mean the 800 kilometres from Saint Jean Pied de Port. People that have known me for a while are seriously flabbergasted. Am I, Amis Boersma, telling them I will go walking for a month? Yes, I certainly am. "What is the matter with you?" a friend recently asked me after I told her about this plan and these esoteric explorations of mine.

Well, one of the answers to this questions could be that I don't know perseverance. The word just does not appear in my dictionary. I have never learned to persist, especially when things get hard. I have never understood why you would continue to climb to the top of a mountain, when you're already exhausted halfway. On hikes, I could always easily just turn around and go back down. When I was meditating at a Buddhist monastery in Indonesia last year, I realised how my mind objects to physical pain and how quickly it seeks a way out. I began to see the relationship between physical power (and pain) and the power of the mind. Hence, this plan to go walking.

Of course this particular pilgrimage always spoke to my imagination. Last year, the Belgian television aired a great show interviewing people on their (often spiritual) journeys. Some of my friends have walked the camino several times and have told me all about their experiences. They are advising, coaching and guiding me now (yeah!). And, as my friend Luis told me a month ago: my journey starts today.

So, I have already bought myself a pair of (ugly) super-shoes and have started training right here in Holland. I will be taking you along on my journey the coming months. These are my first steps. Hooray!

Several people have told me about 'The way', a movie by Emilio Estevez, in which his father (both in real life and in the movie), my favourite actor, Martin Sheen (whom we should all know as Josiah Bartlet in West Wing) walks the camino. This was never his intention, but he ends up finishing the walk his son started and spreading his son's ashes out along the way. I watched this movie just now and it makes me want to start the walk right away!

A funny (albeit cliche) element in the movie is the pot-smoking, drugs dealing, loud and blunt Dutch guy 'Joost from Amsterdam', who ends up being a sweetheart (of course).

Esoteric stuff? Yuck! Or...

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Wed, 23 Jan 2013 22:23:00 +0000

I will be honest with you: I am not the most open-minded person when it comes to esoteric stuff. Sorry if I disappoint you. I have a pretty good reason though: At primary school my best friend's mom was with the Bhagwan. There were pictures of the man (also known as Osho) all over their house, including on the toilet - where he stared at you while you were peeing. One day the mom held a ceremony to also include me as a member and gave me a mala (a beaded necklace) with Osho's picture on it. The mom, the house and the movement scared me to death and I didn't want to be initiated to this sect at all. You can imagine that this whole episode in my life traumatized me somewhat. Ever since, I have not been very open-minded when it comes to meditation or people going to India to find their inner selves.

The eyes of Osha aka Bhagwan

BUT...

Lately, I have (luckily) realized that I was limiting myself and fortunately had the opportunity to try new and (yes!) esoteric things, and now, I can't seem to stop. The coming months I plan to write a bit more about this spiritual journey I am on. So, be prepared!

'What happened?', you may wonder. In September, I participated in YourLab, a program that is almost impossible to describe. Yet, I will give it a try now. Crap, I know that it will sound way out there which is not what I want it to. But well, after YourLab things all started making more sense. I feel a stronger connection to other people ('I didn't think it was possible for us to interact in this way. If only we had been taught this at High School...' a fellow participant told me). Most importantly, I feel more positive about the future of the world (more about this soon).

But what is it? It's a program of two weeks or four days, for young people, to learn about themselves and their place in the world. It sounds like something I would like to start for myself one day. So, I wrote them and asked if I could participate (despite my age = older than 'young'). Potential participants met with each other and the organizers one Wednesday afternoon, and I was slightly skeptical (read: very unsure about participating). They told us to bring comfortable clothes since we would be working out a lot. "I hear lots of talk of yoga, but what are we actually going to DO?" I asked. My mom and a good friend finally talked me into it, saying it would be great to start something unknown (thank you!).

BodypArts

From the first minute I entered the room and met the other participants on Day One, I felt at ease. There was trust and good energy, despite people's nerves. Two weeks filled with impressions and emotions passed by at the speed of light. But they continue to last until today as well. I learned basic stuff: That it's possible to care for someone you don't know, if you open your heart. That we are more than just our minds and two typing hands; that we have bodies we can and should use, bodies that say a lot about us. In the two weeks, I did Aikido, Tai Ki Ken, Yoga, Meditation, Family Constellations, Transformational breathing, dancing and singing. With the group we made 'art' and came up with ways to use an empty building in the Southeast of Amsterdam.

Alexandra and me doing Tai Ki Ken (Chinese boxing)

The main things that stuck with me were:

(from Tai Ki Ken), be square on the inside and round on the outside - in other words, stick to your core self, but be flexible so you can interact with others.
You can change your state of mind by changing the state of your body, by grounding more.
There is an amazing power deep inside of us, which is hidden underneath layer of stress. If we peel off these layers (through transformational breathing), we can connect to this power. This was the most amazing experience for me. I suddenly felt this strength, this determination, this love inside of me, that had me high for a day or two.
We all have our own unique dance and voice.

YourLab showed me that I was not really in touch with my body nor with my soul. I tend to over-think everything and - even though I am a sensitive girl - I lose track of what I feel. I think everyone can use YourLab time at some point in their lives. I used to always say this about psychologists, but I don't believe that anymore. I don't think it's so important to try to understand rationally how your psyche works. On the other hand, I do believe it is important to value the body, mind and soul that you have and to feel how it is connected to other people. How's that for esoteric? Ha!

This is what a fellow Your Lab participant wrote (in Dutch).

More Love Letters and a bit of Amelie

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 18:52:00 +0000

A few weeks ago a good friend of mine sent me the TED video below. As I am a huge fan of TED, this is a very nice thing to do for me (in case you were wondering). In this particular video, Hannah Brencher talks about how she started leaving notes throughout New York city a while back. She was depressed at the time and found comfort in writing love letters to strangers. Before she knew it, she started a movement which is now called 'The World Needs More Love Letters', and I just joined them.

For years I have dreamt of doing something similar; organise a dancing flashmob on a train, paint a quote of something I believe in on a city wall. I dreamt of being more like my heroin Amelie Poulain, doing good in the weirdest of ways. But I never quite dared. Hannah's idea however matches me perfectly: it's easy to do unnoticed and I love to write. So I got started last week... I was very nervous writing my first letter and even moreso when leaving it on a table at Starbucks in Amsterdam. After tucking away around ten letters on trains, cafes and inside books the past week, I'm getting the hang of it. The fact that I have already received two responses from very enthusiastic people makes it all the more exciting. Together with a friend, I started a website to collect all comments and make it easier for other people in Holland to join in. The next step now is to start writing letters for people who need them, not only to random strangers. Do let us know if you know of anyone, or if you want to join us! You can reach us at meerlievebrieven (at) gmail.com.

* For people in the US, the team of More Love Letters has everything ready for you to start writing today. Just visit their website and get started.

I just realised that I haven't yet (UNBELIEVABLE) dedicated a blogpost to my favourite (and most viewed) movie: Le fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain. I watch it once every year, at least. Well, here are two scenes of her doing good in her own funky way. A separate blogpost about this magical tale will follow. It will.

Amelie helps a blind man and shows him her world. I also helped a blind man a few weeks ago at The Hague Central station, which is a complete mess, and tried to make it as funny as I could ("I'm not sure if you appreciate being grabbed by a strange women, but I promise; I mean well!"). It still wasn't quite like this though...

And, one more... Later on in the movie, Amelie paints some quotes from the book, written by her friend Hipolito, on the walls of Paris' streets.

Looking back: My 15 most played songs of 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 21:00:00 +0000

Happy new year, my beloved reader! I wish you a terrific 2013 filled with many good things, such as sunshine, brownies and music. Hopefully it is not yet too late to look back on 2012 and share my musical highlights with you. Yes, I know, I should have done it about two weeks ago, but I was busy eating too much delicious food with my family. Sorry about that.

2012 was a great year for me in many ways. I spent half of it in Cartagena de Indias, a city that made me dance many a night away. But no matter my physical location, I will always have my music with me. These are some of the songs, and artists, that I spent most of my time with this year, sort of in chronological order. Thank you friends for adding to my supply! Did I forget any?

Lykke Li - I follow rivers

Classy lady, great voice and beautiful videos

Maria Gadu - Tudo diferente

I just cannot get enough of this music!

Mayer hawthorne - Can't stop

Mayer is a modern-day soul man, we need more of these guys!

Hector Lavoe - Todo tiene su final

Hector actually deserves a separate blogpost... This one song does not do him justice.

Juan Luis Guerra - Ojala que llueva cafe

First heard this song in Spanish class learning about the subjunctive.

Joe Arroyo - La Rebelion

No night in Cartagena nightlife goes by without this song...

Diomedes dias - Amarte mas no pude

My guilty pleasure.

J Alvarez - La Pregunta

Speaking of guilty pleasures... Yes, yes, I know this guy is a nasty sexist, but I can't help wanting to dance to this.

Luis Enrique - Yo no se mañana

Monsieur Perine - Sabor a mi

I had the pleasure of seeing both Monsier Perine and Bomba Estereo live at a festival. Both great bands that made the crowds go crazy.

Bomba Estereo - Pa' Respirar

Lianne La Havas - Au Cinema

This lady has made my year. Since I missed her performance in Amsterdam, I am hoping she'll come back soon.

Marques Toliver - Magic Look

Ben Howard - Only love

Usually I am not so into white guys with guitars, but in this case... I am hooked. Cannot get enough of this voice, of this song, of this video.

Rihanna - Diamonds

At the time of posting this song has 127 million views - so I guess you have all already seen it. I do believe about 1500 of those views were mine. Yes, maybe I should be ashamed, but I'm not. I also love Beyonce. Ha! This songs just calls for dramatic dance moves in front of the mirror. Seriously, it does. Give it try!

Free to love and choose

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 20:34:00 +0000

'In the Netherlands is democracy to be compared with love, the Dutch have known it for so long that they tend to take it for granted and hardly could remember the first time they got touched by it. In Africa is democracy scarce, and the Africans still desire it as a new love needed to be conquered' -

Alphonse Muambi.

A friend of mine posted this quote on his Facebook post last Wednesday, when elections were held in Holland. I realised how true this statement was and decided to document my experience voting. It wasn't very spectacular as it was a 2 minute walk to the nearby sports centre serving as a voting station. Having been reminded of the fact that many people in the world do not have the freedom to vote, to do it safely or to vote for the party they prefer, made me enjoy it even more so. What a luxury! Many people around me seemed to wonder why I wanted to take pictures of everything. The reason was to show you what freedom looks like. Voila!

Election card ready for my on my mom's fridge

All I need to vote!

Propaganda as seen from my mom's window

Voting here

Voting station

Committed citizens

Choices, choices

And my vote goes to...

All the votes safely locked up

Off you go

Even though the results were better than last time, I still was disappointed. But hey, that's what democracies are for. 'De meeste stemmen gelden' (the majority of votes count) is what we say in Dutch...

A day without music is a day wasted

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 05:42:00 +0000

Colombia, and especially its Carribean coast (and Cali, Colombia's Capital of salsa), is the place to go if you like to dance. There is music everywhere. Literally, EVERYWHERE. Every car, house, bar, shops brings a different kind of tune: vallenato, salsa, merengue, bachata, reggaeton, cumbia, hip hop, house even. This leads me to dance uncontrollably all day long. I just can't help myself! Here's a glimpse of what Colombia sounds like:

Vallenato

To me vallenato is Colombia's equivalent of Dangdut (to which I have not even dedicated a blogpost yet!) and what we in Holland call smartlappen or levensliederen (croon songs). The songs are catchy and sentimental. It's popular music, or music for the working class. The themes is usually romantic, the lyrics often speak of lost loves. Lots of the Colombians I meet here don't like it (but all my neighbors so far definetely do). Even though I wouldn't want to listen to it all the time, I kind of like it (a lot). One of the things I like is that the accordeon is important instrument for vallenato and that the songs are sung straight from the heart. I will soon try to sing a song (like I did in Vietnam).

Salsa

On every street corner you can hear a salsa tune, often it´ll be one by Joe Arroyo, Cartagena's pride. This song always make the clubs explode - people in general all sing along to all the songs, no matter whether they can sing or not. I kid you not: the neighbor is playing this song as we speak, or well, as I am typing this - at twelve thirty at night on a Thursday, I might add.

Reggaeton
Many taxi driver's listen to radio Tropicana and will have reggaeton playing in their car. The lyrics are mostly very offensive to women or just disgusting (or both), but oh, is it fun to dance to this!

Solution to fear of failure: just don't do anything

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 05:16:00 +0000

Or Struggling to manage myself (part 4)

It has already been more than five months since I arrived in Cartagena (and I am getting ready to go back to Holland for a few months). During this time I have studied Spanish and now I can actually get around pretty well - if only I get these people of the coast to articulate their consonants. I am meeting a lot of interesting people, am working on NGO toolkit, and on some interesting other projects. I have explored Colombian culture, observed and wrote about it. I'm planning a Fifteen Minutes of Fame event and have started another blog with my friend Laura.

But I had many more things on my wish list, most of them having to do with making videos and writing articles for the NGO toolkit website. I want to work together with local NGO's and of course offer them my services - I do need to make a living too. A few months ago, I realised I had frozen in the face of fear. This theme is nothing new for me, as you know. This time I hadn't realised it straight away, since I thought I was already facing my fears going to an unknown land to learn the language. The real fear is of course in putting myself out there. It is fear of failure, of looking ridiculous.

This very funny talk by Larry Smith focuses on this particular fear. For many people having this fear means they never end up having a great career, or even taking the leap to try to have one. I fooled myself in thinking I was already there, because I faced many of the excuses I was telling myself not to go for it. Also, I do watch Steve Jobs' commencement speech a lot. However, even though I know what my passion is and am taking the leap, the battle has just begun...

Great quote from this talk: "I would pursue a great career, but I value human relations more than accomplishment. [...] I will not sacrifce them on the altar of great accomplishment. Do you think it's approprate to take children and use them as a shield?".

How Marc Anthony taught me Spanish

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 04:37:00 +0000

Learning a new language is not fun. At least not for people like me who don´t enjoy learning by doing. Yes, yes, I know doing as in trying as in making mistakes and even failing is part of the learning process. Be that as it is, I still do not like it. Five months ago I started to learn Spanish in Cartagena de Indias, Colombia. It has been a long journey, but at the moment I am actually quite satisfied with my level of Spanish. I did not completely start from scratch as I had studied latin in high school, did a Spanish course when I was 18, spent a month in Mexico a few years ago and had a few hours of Spanish class before departure.

What I hadn't realized though is that I had an entire vocabulary at my disposal: the vocabulary of love. As I love salsa music, I have listened to certain albums a zillion times. As a teenager, it was Gloria Estefan's 'Mi tierra' album. For a few years now, I've been really into the Mexican singer Julieta Venegas. But how much as I´d like to deny it, it was Marc Anthony who taught me to speak Spanish. I still remember bying the Celos CD (remember those?) at a record store in Hawai´i and listening to it over and over again. Of course, at the time I did not realize it would pay off years later when actively learning Spanish. So, thank you Marc!

I have to add that here in Colombia it is not a bad thing to like Marc Anthony. Every hour you can hear one of his songs being played somewhere in Cartagena. So, here I can sing along without feeling ashamed. At last. Thank you, Colombia!

A stack of me

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sun, 27 May 2012 00:40:00 +0000

How journaling helps me make sense of my world

12 journals in 17 years

For as long as I can remember I have been writing. First in what we call 'poesie albums' in Holland, which were friendship albums where you'd write a nice poem for a friend and paste a drawing of a cat next to it. When I was about 13 years old, I got my first journal for my birthday. It was pink and had one of those tiny locks on it - the ones that you can pick with a paperclip. I wrote about the things that kept me busy: boys, school, girlfriends, my family, my dreams for the future. Basically, in all the years since, not much has changed. I still write about the same things, albeit in a slightly different way. Or so, I tell myself.

These journals are harder to find these days - luckily I have a stash!

For the past ten years, I have always used notebooks which were sold at Chinese stores in Amsterdam. I have them in all different colors. Up until now, no other notebook is accepted - this is one of the few things I am extremely picky about.

It's been said that people with journals tend to be more successfull (really, it's been said!). I'm not sure that is really the case, but I do believe that writing a journal helps personal development. After writing the same negative crap to yourself over and over again, there has to be a point were you realise (and I did, and do, all the time) that it's time to change course.

People always ask me if I write everyday, which I don't. I don't think it's necessary to keep a log of all the things that happened in my life. It's more important to take time to reflect on those things that are that important that I feel like writing about them. Having a rhythym for writing (at least every week, for instance) does help.

'This journal belongs to Amis Boersma, others are NOT allowed to read this'

I (and yes, it's very Oprah) often take time to be grateful for the things that happen in my life. I write down specific events or people I am happy with and I do find that overall I am happier now than before. I am more at easy with how my life is. In a way, my journal carries me through the good and the bad.

Would I want you to be able to read my journals after I am gone? I'm not sure. The crazy talk is better disregarded - and there's quite a lot of that. So, maybe if you only read the gratitude parts, yes. For now, I'll just stick to being grateful for yet another day on this planet.

Keeping a journal supports personal development

New goal: to always live near to a mango tree

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Fri, 11 May 2012 22:56:00 +0000

This week I created a new goal for myself: from now on I want to spend most of my time living next to a mango tree. From my balcony of my apartment in a cosy neighborhood near to Cartagena's old center, I can almost reach for a big, soon-to-be ripe mango. Spending some time reading in the hammock last Saturday, I witnessed how about ten different groups of boys threw pieces of wood, stone or whatever else they could grab at the tree, hoping to hit a few mangos to the ground. The downstairs neighbor (officially named 'Cascarrabias' or grouch by his upstairs neighbors) seemed to be calling the police the other day to make an official complaint. Interestingly the mango tree is not even his. It's on the street and is public property.

Blogging in the hammock while monitoring mango movement

Just now (as I am writing this) a boy asked me if he could have a go at the tree, to which I invitingly said yes. But Mr. Cascarrabias (obviously) did not agree and sent the boy scurrying off on his bike. When coming home today, there was a man in the three with a huge bag filling it up with mangos. The mango I have had my eye on is still there. But how do I get it? If it falls down, it will land on hostile territory - unless with some divine intervention it is blown a meter to the left towards the entrance of our humble abode. If only I'd have time to keep my eye on the mango all day, I may be able to get a hold of it... But well, I guess I just have to live with the fact that the mango I see so well and so desire, will never be mine. However, the guy in the tree offered to sell me some, so maybe I still stand a chance...

There it is, the mango I desire...

What's in a name? There's a whole lot in mine!

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 08 May 2012 21:07:00 +0000

Last week I went to the immigration office here in Cartagena to get my tourist visa extended with another 90 days (yes, no way I am leaving this place if I don't have to). I was asked to fill out a form which had several interesting boxes to fill out such as hair color and distinguishing physical features. My friend Marcela suggested 'freckles', but I decided to leave it blank - which in turn made the officer ask me if I had any tattoos (don't worry, mom, I still didn't get one). The best box however was SUEDONIMO/NICKNAME. I also didn't fill this one out, but it did made me think of the different names and nicknames I have. It reminded me of the book 'The Namesake' in which the main character has different names adjusted to the different stages of his life.

I love my name. Thanks, mom and dad, for giving it to me. I have loved it ever since I can remember. I have loved telling people how it means 'Sweet' in my mom's mother tongue, Sundanese, spoken on West Java, Indonesia. But how vividly do I remember the day that some annoying Indo (mixed Indonesian-Dutch), giving me ride home after a party, told me that no, it didn't mean 'sweet', it meant 'smelly of fish'. I decided to ignore his comment, but had to face the truth when I started studying Indonesian and was surrounded by non-Sundanese Indonesians all the time. Yes, in Indonesian it does really mean 'smelly of fish'.

This discovery led me to improvise with my name: In Indonesia (everywhere outside of West Java) I now go by the name Ami. It took me a while, but now I can switch gears between Amis and Ami with ease. I respond to anything that could possibly be my name, even 'Amice' (which is how frat boys address one another in Holland). Amish is a bridge too far, but a few people have made the mistake. Anne-mies or Anne-Marlies have been tried as well. Those I just pretend not to have heard.

Aampje

Then there are the real nicknames. You'd think there's not a lot to do with a four-letter name like mine, but you'd be surprised! I guess I just have lots of creative people around me, because my nicknames are many. My mom, my sisters, my little brothers and my close friends call me Aam, or Aampje. My eldest sister sometimes calls me Mango after learning that Aam means mango in an Indian dialect that of high school friends speaks. My big brother calls me Plaam or something else which I will not mention here on this blog. A nephew used to always call me Misa. My first digital nickname was Amsi (amsi@dds.nl was my first email address), thanks to my geeky first boyfriend. In Indonesia some of my close friends got rid of the A and just call me Mi. No one calls me 'I' (as in Bee), thank god! Someone (let me add this was in the US) did think my name was 'Is' (an 'Ease'), thinking I had said "I am Is" as opposed to "I'm Amis". Yeah. A primary school teacher called me 'Bami' (when I was younger I looked more Asian, I guess). Is very that politically incorrect? Two of my friends call me 'Mies' (which is a very old fashioned Dutch name). One of my best friends calls me Mavis or Mave, but I am not actually sure how that started. I think it was supposed to be my stage name... Then there are a few people that call me by my second name 'Agung' and some other friends call me Boersma. I in turn call them by their last names too (De Vries!).

Amisita

The latest nickname I obtained is 'Amistad' (Spanish for friendship). Marcela started this new trend and says it in the way that my grandmother calls my uncle by his full name 'Benno Peter Boersma' - usually when scolding him. I awarded myself the nickname Amisita while dreaming about going to South America and use it with pleasure here.

In every nickname a different part of me is represented. Some go unused for years and pop up when I meet an old friend. Some change users, depending on the people I hang out with most. I'd say the possibilities to improvise more with my name are about to be depleted, but who knows what more is to come... For now, I'll explore being Amisita

Big butts - the side effects of Colombian cuisine

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 22:46:00 +0000

The past weeks in Cartagena have been jam-packed with new sensations. I am learning more Spanish everyday (have gone through all forms of verb conjugations and am now in the phase of complete and utter confusion about which tense to use), I am making friends and soaking up as much of Colombian culture as I possibly can. Of course I have tasted lots and lots of food by now. The streets here are filled with the sound of music and scents of great food. Food is certainly taken seriously here. They like it big here in Colombia. Everything, including butts (they sell push up panties to make butts look bigger!) and bellies (Colombian men drink too much beer). While I lost weight when I was living in Indonesia, I will really have to pay attention not to gain too much weight here. The diet consist mostly of carbohydrates and is very greasy. The frightening part is that it's very tasty...

Who wants lobster for lunch?

For breakfast many people here (as in Indonesia) eat fried salty snacks (Ieeugh!) with a cup of very sweet black coffee on the side. I still go for the sweet option; yoghurt or a caffe con leche with cake.

Sweet coffee with milk and cake

Lunch is a huge meal, often including a soup, a main course consisting of meat or fish and something sweet for desert, and often a drink. Besides meat and rice, you will find (often fried) platano (tropical banana) and potatoes on your plate here. Tasty and very filling. For about 3 euros you'll be full and ready for a siesta.

Mote de queso - cheese soup made with cheese from the coast

Fish with coconut rice and platano

Three course lunch for 3 euros

If you are hungry again in the afternoon (dinner is often eaten quite late - for Dutch standards at least), you can go for an arepa: mais dough filled with meat and eggs, which is briefly fried (see picture below). The best arepas of Cartagena can be found at Dora's on Calle Tumbamuertos, in between my language school and Casa Nativa (my second home here). My friend Sara hypothesized that there may be a relation between breast size and the amount of arepas women eat. Now we shout out 'Arepas!' when we see a fine rack passing us by.

With all this food, it surprises me that not more people are obese here. Vegetables do not seem to have priority here. I'll keep you posted on the state of my weight and arteries - if I'm not too busy eating, that is.

Bollo de mazorca - maisdough with local (very salty) cheese

Arepa filled with egg and meat

The joys of sleeping together

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Fri, 16 Mar 2012 22:06:00 +0000

Besides learning Spanish (getting better every day), my first weeks in Cartagena can be captured in three words: Friendship, food and fiesta. I'll blog about all of these topics sooner or later, but I'll start with friendship for now.

New friends

Up until two week ago I had never stayed at a hostel before. You know me, I don't like funny smells and those drunk backpackers seem to create quite a lot of those. On my holidays I usually traveled with someone, which made sharing a private room a better option. When on the road for work, I got to stay in (sometimes very) nice hotel rooms. Before departure my friend Sebastian told me that sleeping at a hostel is one of those things you have to have tried at least once in your life."Bucket list it" he told me.

Not intending to actually put it on my bucket list, I set off for a very nice little hotel in Cartagena. I spent my first nights there while looking for long-term accommodation. As I didn't find any as fast as I'd hoped, I ended up checking into a hostel: Casa Nativa. The owners advertise it as being a calm and clean place, which it is. Not only that, it's cozy and has a great family cat. The price for a bed is higher than elsewhere so as to attract a less (smelly and) drunk crowd. Three days ago, after spending almost two weeks there, I checked out of the hostel and in to my new temporary home (a room in a fantastic apartment). With pain. Yes. I seriously liked staying at the hostel. The bunkbeds have charming curtains that provide some privacy and a big locker to store your stuff. My introduction to new people in the dorm would often be "So, I hear we're sleeping together tonight" (I know, my sense of humor is not to be appreciated by everyone). Travis' response was the best: "But we've only just met".

Casa Nativa owners, Marcela and Mitzy, on the doorstep

The pros of 'sleeping together' in bunk beds definitely outweighed the cons: I have met so many interesting, fun and sweet people! It's been a great experience. I've shared the dorm with an Argentinian, a Colombian, two Canadians, an Englishman, an American and a Swedish girl. I've had huge Colombian lunches, was given a tango lesson, went dancing at cafe Havana, saw amazing sunsets on the old city wall, tried my first shots of aguardiente, was taught the expression 'se le corre el shampoo' (meaning someone is out of his mind), got to know a lot of new music, cooked an Indonesian dinner and mostly laughed a lot.

Cafe Havana

Sunset with Travis, Amy and Richard

The people I've met told me stories of their travels and life back home: about Parque Tayrona (which I too will visit), about Carnival in Rio, about balconies in Cuba, about the stress at their busy jobs (and leaving that job to start a hostel), about the cats that are waiting for them at home, about teaching poor women basic hairdressing skills (see cutting borders), about the experience of traveling alone, about learning languages and so much more.

We've fantasized about staying here for good and starting an ice cream shop/Indonesian restaurant in one of the many houses for sale here. Some of us will stay here a bit longer and other will go back to their lives back home. I think I'm doing pretty good at crossing off items from my bucket list.

“He who does not travel does not know the value of men.” – Moorish proverb

Cartagena: Que chevere!

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Sat, 03 Mar 2012 17:05:00 +0000

For four days now I have had the pleasure of being a guest of the beautiful city of Cartagena. It's truly amazing! The city breathes history, which makes you want to explore - with salsa music playing in the background and the weather... well, let's not even talk about the weather.


Getsemani

First the citizens, then the tourists

The first days, I stayed in the backpacker part of town, Getsemani. Even though this neighborhood is nicer than most tourist traps, it also has a stench of dirt and prostitution. While I have breakfast, I actually see a tourist stepping into a cab with two hookers - this was at 8 AM! As I enjoy my muesli, tourists, unwashed and with messy hair, come out of their hostels to smoke a cigarette or to quickly run to the supermarket for a healthy breakfast of Sisi and chocolate bars. A salesman shouts out 'Paaaaapayaa' as he pushes his cart filled with tropical fruits ahead. An old garbage collector sings a beautiful song and seems to be followed by unexpected admirers. The sidewalk is suddenly busier behind and around him. An old woman begs, a young man tries to sell white hats. The man whose car has been blocking my view for ten minutes is asked by a (well-armed) policeman to move. The man yells something to the staff of the restaurant and drives off moping. A fine morning in Getsemani.


Papaya seller

Quite the location for a benetton store...

Yesterday I moved to the historic city, which is what Cartagena is know for. Despite the fact that I now sleep in a hostel (as opposed to my Getsemani nights where I stayed at a more luxurious little hotel), I cannot stop grinning: I am here! Every street corner provides a photo op. These Spanish and Italian architects in the late fifteen hundreds really did a good job; it's breathtaking. And it's not as swamped with tourists as I had expected it to be. Still remembering the streets of (other Unesco world heritage sites) San Gimignano, Hoi An and Luang Prabang (which I also loved, so maybe you shouldn't take me seriously on all of this), I was ready to brace for hawkers and hordes of sunburnt American retirees. But no! The city is thriving, with both tourists (from abroad and Colombia itself) and university students. Cartagena's international film festival was free for the first time this year and was so popular that I didn't get to see any movies (despite having waited in the burning sun for half an hour, booh). There were a lot of groovy young Cartagenans in the queue with me. I will report as a further explore the historic center.

Film festival head quarters

Open air film screening

View from my hostel

Of course there is a lot more to the city, of which I had my first taste today. I was invited to lunch at a friend's house (arroz con pollo, which means rice with chicken - very tasty!) in a neighborhood twenty minutes outside the center and got to see a more lively and real part of Cartagena. While the local beautician worked on our nails, I discussed food, cultural differences, men and family with my host, her sister and their ninety-year-old mother. Granny's eyes lit up while she talked about how there are no cars around and people dance on the streets when the party is on. Did I say we (mostly they) spoke in Spanish?

The feet lady knows it all

Granny speaks in a pace that makes it easy for me to understand

*"Que chevere" means "awesome"

The only risk is wanting to stay

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 23:20:00 +0000

"Say hello to Tanja" (a Dutch girl that joined the FARC) and "You'll probably meet a Colombian guy and stay there for ever" is what people have told me upon hearing I was off to Cartagena, Colombia. The Colombian Tourism Board uses the slogan 'The only risk is wanting to stay' and I can say that after being here a couple days, I can very well see why. Still jet-lagged and slightly overwhelmed, I share with you my very first impressions.

What needs to be said: I feel safe. I figured I would, since I had read that Colombia has changed a lot over the years. But since everyone, literally everyone, got a funny look on their face and a doubtful yet polite tone of voice when I mentioned my destination ("Ah, isn't that a bit dangerous?"), I also turned slightly worried. Of course, I will stay cautious (Don't worry, mom and dad), but I am glad I feel comfortable walking around in Cartagena on my own.

My (very) temporary home in Cartagena

What else can I tell you?

The population is very diverse; people come in all colors and sizes, all types and styles. In Bogota, I saw a lot of indigenous people, with fair skins and red cheeks, that almost look Mongolian. Here, on the coast there are more black people with a Caribbean attitude. I am so used at picking out the bules (Westerners in Indonesia), that here I haven't quite figured out who the tourists are - since the white people can just as easily be Colombian. Also, I've seen lots of people kiss and cuddle. Maybe because it was a chilly and rainy day this Sunday in Bogota (or maybe they do it all the time) lots of people were holding hands, snuggling up on the bus and stroking each other's cheeks. It's not only young couples, no, also old married couples seem to still be on their honeymoon.

Colombians like football as much as the Dutch do

In the past two days, I have learned quite a lot of new words (thanks to Paola), such as 'Costeños', the people from the coast. The taxi driver that took me to the airport in Bogota told me I should look out for those flirty Costeños. Yesterday, I realized he wasn't joking, when talking to the bartender at the place where I had breakfast. He looked at me as if he could see right through my clothes and made me blush with the way he gave me back my change. I am so Dutch. So, it's true what they say about latinos then. Well, the same can be said for latinas, I guess. I have seen some miraculously pretty looking women (not as many as I expected though), but I am mostly impressed with the way women carry themselves. Be they fat or old, or both, many dress up, wear a see-through blouse and high-heels and cheer up their wrinkled faces with a dash of red lipstick. And, they get away with it! Sorry, I don't have pictures yet ;)

My hosts in Bogota, Paola and Julian, eating 'rujak' in the park

Sorry to bring up Indonesia again, but some things here in Colombia remind me of my second home on the other side of the world. There is a fancy busway system in Bogota, called TransMilenio, which resembles the TransJakarta bus service (even though the TransMilenio seemed a bit safer and better organised). Colombians also love Milo (Chocolate milk), they eat grated cheese on fruits (Yuck! Indonesians eat it on everything too) and eat young mango with salt (rujak!). You can buy phone credit in little shops that look exactly like 'wartels'. There are enough resemblances to make me feel at home, and enough differences to keep me curious. I'm off to explore Cartagena (and take some more pictures), and will keep you posted!

Spreading the word: watch these videos!

noreply@blogger.com (Amis Boersma) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 16:36:00 +0000

When I am enthusiastic about something (anything!), I just cannot keep it to myself. This means I sometimes blabber too much, but mostly it means that I quickly spread the word about cool stuff (or well, cool stuff in my world). Often a friend tells me about a book, album or video, I like it and end up telling everyone - as if I was the first one to find out about it. Since I can be quite convincing, many an artist would be happy to have me as a fan (like the Cape Verdian singer Mayra Andrade for instance. I am crazy about her music and have made all my friends listen to it). For the record: Thanks friends, for allowing me to spread your word ;)

It happens (not very often anymore) that I meet people that haven't heard of TED yet. Or they haven't watched the superb videos that are my favorites. So, I figured it was time to put them all together. Not only so you can all enjoy them, but also so that I can always find them when I need them.

Why these particular videos? Well, there are videos that I can just keep on watching over and over again. Every time I do, they will provide me with a new insight, reaffirm a pledge I made to myself - but forgot along the way - or just cheer me up. Some have already been featured in a separate post or deserve to be at some other point in time. The sunscreen song actually doesn't really fit in this list (since it's not a talk), but as it never seizes to make me happy, it's here anyway. Enjoy and let me know which one you like best!

The Sunscreen song lifts a bad mood and makes a good mood last

Read more here

Steve Jobs reminds us to never settle and stay hungry for life

Read more here

Marc Bezos urges us not to wait for a big moment to become a hero

Randy Pausch teaches us to dream big

Read more here

Neil Pasricha talks about the three A's of Awesome

Read more here

Salman Khan inspires us to think outside the box

Philip Zimbardo explains the secrets of time (with great drawings!)

Read more here

Alain De Botton shows us what atheists can learn from religion