Sylvia's Journal

Nothing could have prepared us for the New Year’s fireworks extravaganza that, apparently, took place all over Holland, including in the small town of Borne where we were staying. There may be an economic downturn but it did not prevent the Dutch from shooting 100 million euro into the air.

As part of the run up to the new year we were treated to raw herring on toast, old fashioned Dutch kale stew with various kinds of sausages and then the traditional New Year’s Eve staple called oliebollen (oil balls), the ancestor I have been told of the American doughnut. Willem had prepared a double dose for the four of us but we couldn’t even make a dent in the pile.

There is no Time Square ball here that tells you that the new year has started but some large event somewhere in Amsterdam was the equivalent and so the TV was turned on to tell us when it was time to kiss and wish everyone a happy new year. After that, the new Year’s celebration in Holland takes an entirely different turn than the ones I know elsewhere.

As soon as the new year has started everyone emerges onto the street and it is time to wish neighbors and friends as well as total strangers a happy new year. A drunken neighbor took advantage of the situation and covered me with wet kisses before I managed to struggle loose. Yuck.

All the while fireworks exploded around us and the whole place smelt of gun powder. Rockets were fired from the middle of the street and for once there was no room for cars. It seemed very risky to drive around. A few brave (or stupid) souls ventured out but frequently had to stop for oncoming rockets. This could have been a war zone but everyone was very joyous, especially males, from young boys to adult men – this is the time for adult sanctioned pyrotechnics. The women wisely watched the events unfold outside from their warm and safe living rooms, drinking champagne and commenting on irresponsible male behavior.

We visited Willem’s colleagues and their friends down the street, a short walk that took a long time as we twirled around watching the most amazing fireworks displays in every direction, occasionnally dodging the small firecrackers that zoom low to the ground. Part of their house burned down last year and I felt pity for people with thatched roofing. You can understand by the insurance premiums are so high.

The house of their friends is next to that of a millionaire who must have shot some 10.000 euro into the air, frantic fireworks that lasted for 30 minutes without a break. Hospitals are also on alert for eye and hand injuries; luckily Willem was not on call and we could enjoy ourselves.

Axel and I tumbled into bed one hour into the new year and slept for 12 hours on end. We woke up to a winter wonderland that is rare in Holland these days.

We started the New Year with a luxury that we soon won’t have anymore: a long walk in a large and very old estate (tracing back to the 1300s) with the most beautiful old farm houses scattered in a landscape that is called ‘coullissen’ terrain – a beautiful arrangement of foregrounds and backdrops, as if on a stage. It was even more beautiful because of the snow that was still covering branches, fences and roofs.

Now, inside, sitting by the fire, with the light fading into a pale pink before sunset we are listening to the occasional firecracker that remained and it makes me think about abundance. This is a country of abundance which is, maybe, why everything if working as well as it does.