A Different Drummer

Hi there everyone,

Since arriving in Rotterdam last week it has been hard to find the time to write emails or post anything to my blog during the day. So a couple of nights ago I took my laptop home and hammered this out, I know its not quite up to my usual email update standards, but hey, it’s the best you’re going to get for a while.

Remember to check http://tomgara.nomadlife.org for more updates,
Love,

Tom

p.s Tamer and Aly, can you forward this to other Egyptians? I don’t have anyones email address with me right now.

Leaving Cairo

Arrival

Rotterdam

Dutchness

Work

My wonderful technological empowerment

Leaving Cairo

My last days in Cairo were like a condensed super-summary of everything I had experienced and loved about Egypt. My final 72 hours included a flying 8 hour trip to Alexandria, walks through the streets of Cairo, crazy taxi rides and inner city Cairene madness, exploration and discovery of new ancient treasures, and more Shisha, fresh juice, wonderful food, amazing sights and quality times with undescribably wonderful Egyptian people than I would have thought possible. The epitome of these final manic hours was on my last day, when I walked through the “Old City” of Cairo with a few of my fellow internationals, including a couple of new arrivals. In a few hours we managed to fit in kilometres of crowded ancient alleyways, a bunch of Cairo’s finest ancient mosqes, madrassas (teaching centres) and old treasures, with room in between for multiple juice-and-shisha stops.

We saw the sun away overlooking the city from perhaps Cairo’s best viewing point, Azhar Park. Azhar park is a great example of things in Egypt being developed right, and done with a degree of refinement and discretion that is too rare in “tourist” developments. In a vast elevated space of prime land overlooking the whole city, they have put together a beautifully maintained park complex, with water flowing in every direction and virtually ever possible spot representing an amazing view of Cairo that you will not get anywhere else – hundreds of minarets standing all over the city and horizon like ancient stone trees, the great Citadel complex sitting on the hill looking over the whole place with complete authority, and the lights of Cairo’s bustling downtown blinking into the Nile in the distance. Just beautiful. Once the hour got late enough, the late night crew of the group (basically all the men, plus foreigners) retired to Limousine, a place that cannot be done justice in words. Every foreigner who visits Cairo should spend at least on late night enjoying the best shisha in Cairo (and, therefore, as any logical Cairene will tell you, Egypt) in this giant back-to-basics vision of street café perfection. Unfortunately, almost none will. If you are ever heading to Cairo, make sure you let me know, and I’ll make sure my people there get you schooled on this must-do Cairo landmark.

Waking up in the morning to go to the airport I really felt the enormity of what I was leaving – Egypt has really made a mark on me that will stay forever. I packed my bags in the last couple of hours before my flight (is there any other way of doing it?) and headed out to the airport. I spent my last few minutes in the airport, with a million words in my head about how much I was going to miss the place and the people, especially the ones with me at the time. I wont bore 95% of the people reading this with soppy stuff about people you have never met, but Tamer and Aly – brothers forever guys. Thanks for everything, and see you soon. And Soad – showing up at my house in the morning with her chauffered air conditioned ride to the airport and the best present I could have asked for (the one I forgot to buy myself) – you’re a special one.

So, that was leaving Egypt. Flight was fine, etc etc. The minute details of air travel are too insignificant to merit discussion.

One last thing though – not only did I leave a small irreplaceable piece of my soul in Cairo – but I also left about 50% of my wardrobe! Due to a small miscommunication with my bawwab (doorman), the clothes I left with him to be washed an ironed (another small, wonderful Egyptian luxury) remained locked in the Laundromat store, beyond the reach of myself or anyone else bribable or sympathetic to my cause. They will be couriered to me, by the guys sometime in the next few weeks, Inshallah.

Arrival

I arrived in the Netherlands on a historic day in European history – note only did I arrive on the continent (a historic moment in itself), but the French voted no in their EU constitution referendum, throwing a massive French manufactured spanner in the EU works. The Dutch voted no three days later, not just solidifying my own position as bringer-of-doom to the EU, but also suggesting that the idea of a federal Europe is, undoubtably, toast. If a couple of less significant countries voted no, their opinions wouldn’t have meant so much, and a second “apology” referendum would be held a year or two later, giving the citizens a chance to say sorry and appease their overlords (like what happened to the Irish). But France and the Netherlands were like a wham-bam double punch to the genitals for EU consolidation. It looks like I will be in Europe during a year of historic decisions.

Having not eaten for about 24 hours by the time I arrived in Rotterdam at the central train staion, I was ready to chow into anything that was hot and not moving. The first thing that greeted me was a bizarre Dutch vending machine style wall of small compartments, each one containing a single serving sized serve of a bunch of different foods, all apparently crumbed and/or battered, and deep fried. Not exactly a gourmet sight, but it was good enough for the time and place. I put in a Euro and grabbed myself a “kaassoufle”, which turned out be basically a hunk of deep fried cheese. Just as I finished the last mouthful, a hand grabbed me from behind and spun me around, and the unmistable sound of Arthur Josephson was welcoming me to Rotterdam. How the hell he knew I was there was beyond me (it turned out to be a lucky guess). His first sentence went something like this. “Welcome to Rotterdam man. How are you? Oh, by the way, whatever you do (pointing the vending machine) – NEVER EAT ANYTHING FROM THOSE MACHINES!”.

It was an ominous warning, especially to someone with the remnants of a Kaassoufle still being swallowed. I began to freak out – had I just ingested a rock solid lump of fried hepatitis? Did Arthur know some awful dark secret about these machines that becomes self evident to all those who live in the Netherlands? It was a heavy few minutes before he explained that I wasn’t in fatal danger, but simply placing myself on the wrong side of acceptable modern guidelines for society by supporting these weird Dutch machines. I’ll try and explain these things more in another piece – there is a lot to explain – but in essence, imagine if an Australian take away food store owner in the early 1950’s had been asked to design the vending machine of the future – they would have come up with something quite reminiscent of these things, except slightly healthier and more hygienic.

Work

Just in case anyone isn’t clear with what I am doing here, I will be super quick and just explain the basics. I am working for AIESEC International, which is the international head office of AIESEC, a student organization that I was involved with at Adelaide University, and worked for in Ireland and Egypt over the last two years (www.aiesec.org) . I am working with a team of 18 other people, all around my age, from all around the world, who were also involved in AIESEC in their home countries. My job is in managing our corporate partnerships, keeping our current partners happy and selling partnerships to new companies. I’ll be doing a fair bit of travel as part of this, mainly in Europe, and I’ll be spending shitloads of time in Brussels, London and Switzerland, which are my “target” markets. So if you want to catch up, I’ll be in all these countries, plus the Netherlands, throughout the year.

Work is, so far, just great. I’m working with a team of people from something like 15 countries, and most of us have lived for a year or more in other countries too. The stories and experiences are just amazing. The culture in the office is brutally competitive and fast, with everyone just going at breakneck pace with a really intense focus and dedication. It’s amazing what actually believing in your work and your organization can do for you. I’ve never seen an office work like this before, and I probably wont for a long time. A lot of the people I am working with are absolute certifiable geniuses, and I really have to work hard to keep up with a lot of them. Its just the best environment you could possibly imagine to work within at this age.

My wonderful technological empowerment

I have had a wonderful piece of technology come into my life, and I am becoming rapidly convinced that it is the absolute way of the future. It is my new laptop (my first laptop!), a HP TC4200 tablet computer. What is a tablet computer? Well, basically, imagine a laptop where the screen can be flipped around and folded down so the laptop, when closed, has the screen facing you. The screen is touch sensitive and comes with a special pen (tethered to the computer, thank god) that lets you “write” and draw directly onto the screen. Basically when used in “tablet” mode, it looks like an A4 notepad with a digital paper screen. It is great for scribbling on, taking notes, drawing diagrams, and passing around to review documents. It is the kind of thing that cant really be described effectively in writing. But, as a sign, everyone who has seen it and played with it has vowed to buy one as their next laptop. It is Bill Gates latest little personal obsession at Microsoft, and I can understand way. Once you have been using one for a few days, you cant understand why all laptops don’t have the functionality. Eventually, they all will, I’m sure.

Rotterdam

Like the bizarre vending machines, Rotterdam is a tough city to describe. Objectively, it is a nice place, with lots of modern buildings, good infrastructure, a logical layout, and a town centre that is within an easy walk of most places. All of this, however, ignores an underlying problem with Rotterdam that can only be understood from experience – it is a town with no soul, and almost no purpose for existence.

Rotterdam is the biggest port in Europe, and has been for a long time. It was once the pride of the Netherlands, and played a driving force in Dutch dominance in early sea-borne commerce and trade – the foundation of the long term wealth and competitiveness of the Netherlands. So it was with this in mind that when the Nazi’s issued a fairly strongly worded ultimatum to the Dutch during World War II. The whole exchange went something like this:

Germans: “Surrender, and we will leave you alone”

Dutch: “We will never surrender”

Germans: “Surrender, or we will bomb Rotterdam”

Dutch: “We will never surrender”

***German bomber planes take off, start heading towards Rotterdam***

Dutch: “OK OK! We surrender! We surrender! Please, think of the children!”

Germans: “Too late, Dutchies. Time to set an example. Don’t mess with the Nazis!”

And Rotterdam was bombed into rubble.

Rotterdam was completely destroyed, almost down to the last building. You can count the pre-1945 buildings in the city on one hand and still have a couple of fingers left for operating the fried stuff vending machines. The whole city, and a large proportion of its population, had to be rebuilt after the war. The result is a funny mix – an exceptionally modern city where even the car parking buildings are artsy modernist constructions with polished steel and swoopy curves – but a city with a completely artificial, soul-less city centre, overwhelmingly immigrant population, and a real lack of purpose. The city has no eccentricity, no little alleys, no interesting districts or “weird” areas – its like a big shopping mall with apartment buildings attached to it. I don’t think anyone is proud to be from Rotterdam, and Dutch people seem to be far from impressed by the place. But despite all this, it’s a cool place to live – plenty of museums and galleries, easy to get around, relaxed, and the diametric opposite of crowded. Nobody lives here, especially after 6pm, when the city practically disappears.

But hey. Its 2 hours from Brussels, an hour from Amsterdam, and short train rides to Germany, France, UK, etc. I’m sure I won’t be too bored here.

Whats going on with the Dutch

I don’t really have much of a grip yet on Dutch culture, but here are just a few snippets of the weirdness of the place:

The “Viewing Platform” – Dutch toilets must breed a bizarre toilet fetish among Dutch people. Rather than doing your business directly into a pool of water, you poo onto a flat, dry porcelain plate, which is then flushed clean by water. It has the strange, and obviously intentional, result, of making you view the results of each and every bowel movement, in full three dimensional proportions. We are theorizing as to the reason behind these perverted toilets, and once we come to a resolution I’ll be sure to tell you all. Sigmund Freud definitely grew up using one of these toilets.

Tackyness – Dutch culture is flagrantly garish and tacky. The nationalistic obsession with the colour bright orange is somehow cool, but it breeds an overall appreciation of bright neon colours that should be discouraged in a modern country. The eighties ended 15 years ago, but for the Duch, neon everything still feels just wonderful. A fondness for “Bikini Beach Party” events in pubs is also a but disconcerting in a country this grey and unsunny.

Mix it, master DJ – Dutch clubs are world renowned, but in the places I have been, and been told about, Dutch DJ skills suck massively. Think of a smooth transition between songs – a little mixing and beat juggling, a slow cross fade, and there you have it. Now think of getting two huge aluminum pots and banging them together. Think of the earsplitting “CLANG!” – that is what Dutch DJ’ing sound like. They get two completely un-matching songs (slow rolling hip-hop, and 80-s heavy metal), and just stop one song and start playing the next. As Monika, a German girl, expressed it – “what is the word for the opposite of complimentary?”. Exactly.

Skin up a fat one – Yup, you didn’t think I was going to write a whole update without some coverage of the marijuana scene here. In short – how wonderful and civilized. A selection of fine coffee shops caters to the gourmet smoker with a wide selection of weeds and hash from across the globe, sold by the gramme or in ready rolled joints (although ready rolled is really a trap for clueless tourists and non-smokers). The quality control is amazingly high, and the weed is, well, as you would expect – kick-frigging-ass. Maybe I’ll write more on this topic later. Just one note though – legalization really changes the way you look at the stuff. Most Dutch people just drop by the coffee shop on their bike on the way home, grab a take away bag and leave – just like they are buying the milk and bread. And that is kind of how it is looked at – a commodity, not particularly popular (Dutch culture is not really into marijuana) but available in places that 95% of the people have no interest in visiting or worrying about.

The Dutchman-Bicycle Symbiosis – A Dutchman on his/her bike is like the perfect fusion of man and machine. Dutch people don’t ride bikes – they sort of co-exist in the same space as the bike and go about their business as usual. In Australia, bike riders tend to wear their funny little lycra costumes, helmets, bike gear etc. Here, a Dutch businessman in full suit with suitcase in tow will pass by on a bike, sitting completely upright looking as proper and casual as you can imagine. If I have ever seen a whole race of people in complete oneness with their bicycles, it is the Dutch.