gLausGo

Living in the UK reminds me in some ways of a game we used to play as kids ´De omgekeerde wereld´ (The reversed world). We all know the British drive on the wrong, sorry, left, side of the road. We could imagine that this will lead them to put rising escalators on the left as well. As I noticed is the case when upon arrival I tried getting myself and my 45kg in 4 bags up using the descending escalator. But not for the following: - Switching anything on requires putting the switch down, not up. Luckily there are plenty of learning opportunities for this as the Scots switch on not just lights but also showers, cooking plates, ovens, power outlets. Unfortunately the switches to the power outlets are the only ones placed in a somewhat logical relation to their target (in this case, on the outlet itself). Light switches tend to be located outside the room they're intended to light. Which is a minor inconvenience compared to the shower switch being located outside the room you'r

(sorry, this one's in Dutch - can't properly translate the events reported below). Terwijl ik in Ecuador bergen beklom/wilde dieren bekeek/emmers water over mezelf uitgestort kreeg en terwijl ik in Glasgow settlede/een huis zocht/een leven probeerde op te bouwen/aan het werk ging was thuis mijn persoonlijke Annistente aan het zorgen dat ik me geen zorgen hoefde te maken. En dat blijkt. Eén van haar missies was het verhuizen van allerhande troep van de opslag naar de vuilstort. Maar hoe doe je dat met rug die tillen onmogelijk maakt? Simpel. We rijden de stort op en meteen staan er twee geelgejaste jongemannen enthousiast te zwaaien en gebaren. - Jij, hier? Je kwam toch niet meer? De Annistente parkeert. - Nee joh, kijk daar komt een plekje vrij, ik houd hem wel even voor je vrij, dat is veel handiger! De Annistente parkeert nog een keer onder instemmend toezicht. - Is dit metaal? Is dit grof afval? De lading slinkt zinderogen terwijl ik voor de vorm ook probeer stuk

I'm on holiday. Already. In my own home. Strange. What I definitely hadn't missed: Utrecht Central station (though that may have had something to do with the cleaners' strike).  But my home has changed. Not just in my mind. I walked into the house for the first time without the hallway gently reminding me that this was a project and not a house. And I have come full circle: the upstairs toilet that (I) broke just before moving in now flushes like nothing ever happened. Oh, the immense joy of doing the getting up - morning pee - shower - getting dressed ritual all on one floor! In some ways my holiday home is better than my real home.  In others, it's a bit sad. It's my house but without me, it's empty, but filled with boxes. I needed to bring all my toilet stuff to my own house, I needed to go find bedsheets in boxes, I don't put my clothes in the closet.  But it's not really a holiday: it's an even rounder circle. My last days in my house wi

Three Little Deadlines made me decide that a home was not at all an essential part of moving to Glasgow. The first thing to cross my path would do. A room in a house I'd never seen with a guy I'd never met in a suburb of Glasgow I'd never heard of crossed my path so I moved in. Not bad: the suburb is not one of Glasgow's infamous areas but is actually pretty, the connection to work is straightforward (my commute has already shrunk by 50%), the house-mate is indeed an 'agreeable 29 year old male professional' as promised. He cleans, he's orderly, he's not noisy, he's friendly, he's social, he works for a children's charity - he's the ideal housemate.  If only I hadn't outgrown the very concept of housemate. (Ok, and if only I could always understand what he says). Therefore, exit deadlines enter house hunt. The response rate to my responses to ads suggests Glaswegians offer flats without actually wanting to let them. I nevertheless

Tired of all these hours spent in Dutch trains that are yellow?* Fed and fattened up by your local station's fast food for dinner? Do all those 'social' beers start to take their toll? Do you need a month to catch up on sleeping? NOW you can stop worrying. You can start relaxing. It is easy as 1-2-3: Try EmiGrate! It only takes a couple of months, you needn't hassle at all**, and it's GUARANTEED to provoke absolutely no stress whatsoever*** Once you've tried EmiGrate you will enjoy the gifts of a new, healthy, fruitful and postdoctoral life. You will learn to cook healthy, wholesome, and organic meals with only limited effort. You will discover the joys of couches combined with those of TV's. You will get your well-deserved 8 hours of rest on our special massaging bed featuring 10 special-purpose springs that apply pressure on your back at crucial places. You will learn to concentrate your beer-drinking-activities on a limited number of occasio

- Hi, I would like to buy a smartphone. - Do you have a contract with us? - No. I just moved here from the Netherlands. - I'm sorry but then we can't give you a contract. You have no credit history you see. - So can I buy the phone and get a pay as you go? - No, they are only sold on contracts. - Hi, I would like to buy a smartphone. - Do you have a bank account? - No. I just moved here from the Netherlands. - If you don't have a bank account, we cannot give you a contract. - Hi, I would like to open a bank account. - There are no banking advisors in just now, can I book an appointment for you? - When would that be? - Next week. - Hi, I would like to open a bank account. - Do you have an account with us? - No, I just moved here from the Netherlands. - So you have been living here less than three years? - Yes, as a matter of fact I have been living here less than a week. - We can only give you an account after you have lived in the UK for three years. You have no

After 5.5 years in one and the same My First Workplace, how do you start anew? I've figured getting to and from the office, but then... My roommate understands what is most crucial - he cleans a cup and escorts me to the coffee machine. Freshly ground espresso - I can safely stay in Glasgow.  The official 'induction' on the second day is not much more extensive than the informal one on on the first day: I appear to already have learnt all that's in the list. Well, except for where to actually find the people involved - three Victorian houses merged together in a Psychology department equal one big maze. (Experts say it takes about a month to get oriented.) The inductress is nevertheless almost off within a minute - but then decides to introduce me to 'other people in the project'. She stops at one. Then luckily she remembers a crucial bit: the welcome present. The Charm Alarm! The Charm Alarm! is a big pink egg resembling a hand grenade. If you pull out the p

'But you're in South America!' The reaction when I tell fellow jungle travellers in Ecuador that I will be moving to Glasgow within two weeks. One week after I return, hopefully without having caught any sort of tropical disease.  I spend that week urging myself to pack up home and office, only succeeding when the deadline is finally concrete enough to be felt (TODAY) - as always. In the spare hours I do last beers, last dinners, last office visits, last shopping spree, last goodbyes, last.... Sometimes I realize what's happening and a few (or many) tears escape, sometimes I don't and I keep telling myself I'm moving to another country.  At the airport any potential goodbye stress is neutralized by the need to beat Ryanair's baggage policies. How do you redistribute 45 kilos in four bags so that they become 40 kilos in three bags? My team of goodbye wavers succeeds (luckily, not everyone is good at maths), while in my head all thinking processes have bee