Sylvia's Journal

There is no place like home and there is no person like Axel; together that made for a sweet homecoming, albeit it a bit chilly with temperatures below freezing this morning. The warm Ghana weather is already a distant memory.

Axel had ordered the Household Fairy to clean and de-clutter the house and proudly showed me around. For reasons unknown the Fairy had left several of the Christmas tchotchkes in place. Maybe it is Tessa’s revenge or her way of making sure that everything is out a little earlier than Christmas Eve 2008. She might succeed because in our house tchotchkes have a way of blending in until we stop noticing them.

Axel had not thrown away the forced hyacinths in their tall glasses to show that they had really bloomed. In their post-flowering state they no longer smelled nor looked attractive. When I left on January 4 the flower buds had just become visible and so I managed to miss their flowering entirely. I had started them in early December but had made the fatal error of taking them out of their dark growing place early and disturbed the root formation. I should have known better. When I was in third grade I had left my bulb in the linnen closet for many weeks before I took it out. The stunning blue flower that emerged, I can still see and smell it, won third prize in the annual hyacinth forcing competition among the schools of our town. I grew up in the middle of the tulip growing region. Some of my classmates came from a long line of tulip farmers and for them not winning a prize was, of course, not an option. I did not have such pressure on me but rather a set of enlightened parents who encouraged the growing, not the winning. In early spring, in fifth grade, we also started our own summer vegetable garden (schooltuintjes). Each of us was given a 9×12 plot on a piece of open land (now long since covered up with houses and asphalt) and grew sprouts (tuin kers) carrots, beans and, of course, some flowers. Now, looking from a distance at those extra-curricular school activities I appreciate them so much more.

After my early arrival in Amsterdam yesterday morning I settled in for a long wait until I found an email from Sietske that she was actually not in France for a change. She came to pick me up at 9 AM at our usual pick up place which we call the elbow (elleboog); it is the place where Hall 1 and Hall 2 come together and the drop off (departure) road veers off to the left. It is a popular pick up place for arrivals but there is always room for one more car and I can wait inside. It was the first time Sietske saw me since the accident. I am not sure what she expected but the way I walked up to her clearly surprised her. We tried to ignore the awful wet (and typical Dutch) weather and had coffee with a very Dutch treat, beschuit met (oude) kaas. We spent the next 3 hours catching up. We had not seen each other since last March or May when I came back either from Kenya or Swaziland. I showed my scars and my still slightly swollen ankle to her husband Doctor Piet and we talked about the experience of ‘suffering along’ (com-passion) via Caringbridge.

Back at the airport for my departure to Boston I stocked up on cheese, haring and licorice to replenish dwindling supplies at home and called as many of my family and friends as my Dutch cell phone credit allowed. I hoped to get Sita on the phone from somewhere in Switzerland. It is a place that is full of memories of vacations from the late fifties to the mid seventies. I have not been back there since. I left a message on her cell phone. She was probably en route. I suspect that the chalet she is staying in is not as connected as she expects. After all, when people go to stay in a chalet in Switzerland it is to ski or hike, not to check their email. I cannot wait to get her insider’s view on the Davos Summit.

Today we are going to see Fatou and several old and young Waring School friends in Lynn. It will ease my transition from an all African diet to an American one because we will surely get something wonderful and African to eat today. Such meals are really odd in the middle of a cold and wintry landscape but I take Fatou’s food anytime and anyplace and it will be superior to much of the hotel food of the last two weeks