Journalist | Editor | Chairperson | Germany expert / correspondent | in Hilversum & Berlin
Various new and, above all, older posts from my blog. I’m leaving these up as an “archive.”
A week ago, we got off the train from Germany.
Within nanoseconds, not only was I back on Dutch soil, but I also immediately started thinking about tomorrow. My job, the babysitter, the sandwiches I’m going to make. I checked Teletext to see if anything interesting had happened while we were away (nope) and reset my brain to my old, familiar surroundings.
Continue reading “Back and forth”It’s fifteen degrees below zero, and I’m standing with my camera at the
Bahnhofsmission am Zoo. A small hatch opens, and the homeless come to pick up a packet of sandwiches, a banana, and hot tea or coffee.
They don’t get much more help here, so to find a place to sleep, they’ll have to keep moving through the city. Inside, I talk to the volunteers and ask if there’s anyone I can accompany on their way to an emergency shelter. And film them.
Continue reading “Homeless in Berlin”So that wasn’t quite how we had planned it.
Road trips in the winter aren’t ideal for two-year-olds, so we decided to take the train.
Continue reading “I get to go again!”It was freezing cold in there. When you went to your bedroom, you practically had to run, or else you’d freeze. Because the big, dark house had only one large tiled stove in the living room, where you could warm your feet as soon as you walked in. We were sitting there with as many as six adult couples and their children, one of whom was me.
Continue reading “Brushing Up”I’ve had time to let it sink in. I’m used to the idea. I’m slowly getting used to it.
Starting January 1, I’ll be the editor-in-chief.
That means a lot of things:
Continue reading “I'm going to be the boss”Actually, yesterday was the first time I’ve ever celebrated a real, REAL St. Nicholas Eve. First of all, it was on December 5, and that doesn’t happen very often. Because the Dutch like to move their holidays to whichever day of the week is most convenient. So this one, too.
Second, I now have a 2½-year-old toddler, so this is also the first time it’s been a kids’ party.
Continue reading “Now, FOR REAL”Er staat: 2x overstappen. 3x overstappen.
Nog een keer.
2x keer overstappen. 4x overstappen.
Ik probeer een ander station. Deventer. Hengelo. Amsterdam. Bad Bentheim. Niks. Als ik na 11 december vanuit Nederland rechtstreeks naar Berlijn wil rijden, dan kan dat niet. Want mijn trein is verdwenen uit de nieuwe dienstregeling. Ik snap het niet, en probeer het een derde keer. En daarna nóg een keer.
Continue reading “Dit wordt een lang stuk……….”“How many of you don’t understand a word of German?” Judith Holofernes called out to the crowd.
About seven hands went up.
Not enough to really need an interpreter.
“How many of you are actually from Amsterdam?” Three-quarters of those who raised their hands.
Because the lyrics of “Wir sind Helden” aren’t the easiest. At least, they’re rarely—if ever—found in books like *Der Übungsmeister* (I’ve seen with my own eyes that my friend J.’s textbook was called exactly that).
Continue reading “How many of us are actually here?”“Die Neunziger.” I’ve always thought that sounded better than “the ’90s.” The Dutch equivalent has a bit of a corny ring to it. And that shouldn’t be the case, because I still go under the assumption that “die Neunziger” are totally hip.
Maybe it’s a misconception of my own generation, because let’s face it: the music from that decade is downright bad. One by one, the tracks get played during “cheesy hours.” And you can barely admit that you’re actually a bit of a “happy hardcore type.” Because that just sounds so dumb.
Continue reading “90's Now: Proletarians from the '90s”Mijn journalistieke bestaan begon met radio. Zelfs al ver voor mijn postdoctorale studie. Al besefte ik dat pas veel later.
Op mijn eigen verjaardag ging ik vroeger met mijn knalrode radio (waar ook een klein microfoontje op zat) kleine hoorspellen opnemen met vriendjes. We bedachten miniverhaaltjes en deden ons best om een beetje te acteren (ik herinner me dat we uit het raam stonden te schreeuwen, zodat de stemmen op het kassettebandje ook echt ver weg zouden klinken. Geen idee wat ze daar zes verdiepingen lager van vonden).
Continue reading “Radio”