Remembrance Day

The bells tolled and echoed. And the square suddenly fell silent. A solemn silence, the kind that you dare not breathe in, for you fear that the breath would shatter that sound of nothing.

We stood still.
Tens of thousands of us.
Gathered together on Dam.
To remember.

The wind played with the flags, making them flutter. The red-white-blue at half mast flew above my head, dancing in the wind. It's movement were so random, so free, so natural. I closed my eyes and the image of the flag flying so freely stayed with me. The price of that freedom is invaluable.

May there be peace... May there be hope... May there be freedom... May there be freedom from fear...



In my mind there were flashbacks of pictures, movies, black and white documentaries of brave souls who have moved on, into a braver world beyond this one. They collided with the sounds and images embedded in our TV screens and the front pages. The bloodshed... the cries... the suffering... the nightmares... Wearing such a clean and white shirt suddenly filled me with guilt.

Just as suddenly as silence fell, music rose from the military band. A familiar tune, and in that moment I shivered slightly, making me wonder whether it was the evening breeze, or the rhythm of the national anthem that had such an emotional effect on me. All around me was a low murmur, as people softly sang.

... den vaderland getrouwe blijf ik tot in de dood. Een Prinse van Oranje...

Befitting to the atmosphere, it suddenly became colder. The sun had set behind the Royal Palace, casting a long shadow looming over our heads. The breeze caressed our cheeks, and the mood felt so familiar, but at the same time, seemed so very distant. The white marble National Monument looked soiled, covered in grime and soot, while the carvings of men and women who have just broken their shackles seemed somewhat faded, and eroded with the passage of time. What is normally a touristic photo-op donned on a more solemn meaning.



Wreaths of flowers were laid before the monument, by the Queen and the Crown Prince, by veterans, by the Prime Minister, Ministers. Sixty-two children (one for each year since the end of the war) also quietly laid red and white flowers to rest at the steps of the monument. To the unknown many who so senselessly died in Europe and in Asia... For the first time in history, young veterans, some perhaps just a few years older than me, were able to sit together with the older ones. The world war may have ended, but conflicts still continue to brew, and the Dutch are involved in various 'peace-keeping' missions around the world. In everyone's eyes was an unspoken grief.



I stood there and watched the crowd slowly disperse. One moment the square was full, the next it was almost empty. I pulled on my jacket to keep warm, only to realise elsewhere it was even colder.

Asparagus

- "Do you like asparagus?"

I looked at him, standing a few steps behind me at the supermarket check-out. He pointed to the packet of white asparagus that inched slowly forward on the conveyor belt.

"No, not really. Shame I guess."

- "It's a really good vegetable. I love it." He was around my height, wearing a dark brown sued jacket, and blue jeans. "It's great they're out again."

"Well, I don't like the fibery feeling. But it's alright, I guess. Not that I'd buy it for the sake of buying it."

I slowly put the other groceries into my bag, careful to leave the packet of asparagus until last. It felt a little awkward that what was in my shopping basket had become the object of a random conversation.

- "You have to peel it. And usually I boil it a few minutes first, and then it's ready. You can do a lot with asparagus". The guy got so excited for some reason, and I wondered why... what's so exciting about asparagus?

"Maybe that's why I don't like it. Didn't know you had to peel it."

- "Of course you have to peel it. The skin's pretty rough. Once you peel it, the 'meat' underneath is really tangy. And so delicious!" Are the packets of chocolate-chip cookies, chips and mushrooms less interesting? I had to restrain myself from laughing.

"Maybe I should try it your way then."

- "Yeah, do that. It's asparagus season, and they're fresh and cheap. Lots to eat. I just can't get enough." He smiled, and looked interested.

"Sure... I'll just do that. Maybe I'll change my mind and start liking asparagus."

I looked at the packet of asparagus, and suddenly they looked different. No longer the discounted item I had wanted to buy since seeing that commercial on TV, but... different. As if they were more than just vegetables.

- "I'm sure you will. It's really such a wonderful vegetable. So much nutrients. Especially the green ones. I know these are white, but green ones are best. They're thinner too. And much chewier." The excitement still lingered, and the more he talked, the more excited he seemed to get.

"OK... I'll be sure to try those too. Bye."

I finally picked up my packet of asparagus, and put them gently into my bag. The girl who had just been 'harassed' by this random asparagus-guy hurriedly made her way toward the exit. I stood there for a few moments, and replayed the whole event in my head, trying to search for some kind of 'meaning' behind the whole conversation.

Asparagus... asparagus... it was all just about asparagus! The asparagus that I bought which somehow, in a bizzare and surreal way, became the 'binding' factor between strangers.

Outside, brown and white confetti fell and flew from the trees.

Lazy days

Not sure why, but suddenly have become so tired...

Went to bed 'early' last night, at around eleven, and got up to go to school. Had an appointment with my thesis supervisor, which went pretty well. He's really nice, and we sat down together for half an hour to go through my ideas. Even before I arrived, he had already jotted down lots of useful notes on my proposal, and given me a list of literature I to look at. My topic, on the values of the (so-called) international community, appears to be related to the PhD thesis he's working on, so he really seems to be the right person to be supervising it.

My basic ideas are to question whether there is such a thing as 'international community' in reality... and if there is, what the the values of this community are. There's so much talk and use of the term, and some legal terminology refer to the 'international community', but what is this community composed of? States alone, or something more encompassing, like individuals, NGOs, TNCs? Especially on human rights, we hear a lot about how the "international community" views them as a common fundamental value, and has time and again repeated the commitment to protect human rights for the sake of defending this "international community". But is this mere rhetoric, or something grounded in law as well as reality?

Anyways, perhaps it's because of these mind-boggling ideas, afterwards I felt so exhausted. Sat in the library for a few hours, but didn't get any work done at all. The sunny weather outside didn't help, and my mind kept on wanting to go out. So I did.


I made my way home slowly, even managing to doze on the short fifteen minute train journey. Once I got home, around 4pm or so, I collapsed into bed. Had set my alarm for around 5, but everytime it ran, I pressed snooze, snooze, snooze...

It was one of those sleeps you keep on waking up from, and then fall half asleep, only to wake up in what feels like only moments later, when an hour or so had in fact passed. Usually I have the radio on when I take a little nap in the afternoon, and between periods of half-sleep and awakedness I'd hear bits and pieces of the latest news... Israeli prime minister Olmert refusing to step down... Polish workers 'flooding' into the Netherlands after the lifting of border restrictions... lawsuit against ABN Amro because of its merger with Barclays... three week old Royal Princess Ariane taken up in hospital... And rather unsually I started to dream as well... unpleasant dreams, about this piece of assignment I had to hand in last week.

When I decided I couldn't go on sleeping any more, which was around the same time as when my stomach kept on kicking, it was almost nine.

Queen's day

Walking home under a starlit sky seemed like a relief. The air was cool, and calm, and around me were sihoulete of trees and bushes that rustled slightly in the night breeze. Were it not for my light footsteps, and the occassional embarassingly loud scrapping of my shoes, it was so peaceful. So different from the whole day of din in the city.

The Queen's Day celebrations continued today, and the queen and her three princes seemed to have once again indulged themselves on their traditional 'day out'. It's the one day in the year the queen walks around and waves at cheering crowds, perhaps stopping here and there to receive the random bouquet from a royal fan, and giving the odd handshake. The princes enjoyed themselves too it seems, and this year with a bit of salsa dancing and fish-eating. Ordinary everyday events become extraordinary headlines when the royals do it.


Elsewhere, the country partied on. The entire country coloured orange as streets and windows panes became drapped with orange banners and the national colours of red-white-blue. It's the also the one day in the year when anyone can haul out garbage that have been collecting dust in the basement, and sell them on the streets, without a license. Vrijmarkt (Free market) they call it, and most things that are so tacky and dirty might as well be given away freely. But in this enlightening experience, you see Dutch culture at its most expressive. This is after all a thrifty nation, proud of the few cents that can be saved, and few cents that can be earned at any occassion. Everything, from worn-out clothes (even underwear) to whole furniture sets, from VCRs dating from the 80s to dolls with missing limbs. If it can be used again, it can be seen and sold.



I wandered the streets of Amsterdam (A'dam) with a friend, and admired the impressive array of wares on offer. Some things were still pretty decent, but we couldn't stop laughing as we wondered what anyone would want with a lonesome shoe.



We ventured forward, and spent some time at a gigantic music venue on Museumplein. A huge stage had been erected there, and thousands of people assembled before the the stage that pumped out live music, some good old hits from yesteryears, others more current hits... but all managed to work up the crowd. The sun was bright, and the sky clear. Some had even gone as far as stripping and lying down on the rubbish-filled grass to get a tan. The mood was electric, mingled with the occassional wafts of weed. Funny, I thought to myself, as I recalled that no less than three years ago the same square was bursting at the rims with a quarter of a million angry protesters demonstrating against the pensions reforms institigated by the last Christian right cabinet. Today, the crowd was united too, by the passion of Orange, by booze and by the rhythm of the music. I tried to avoid looking at the fallen pieces of unfinished pancakes, french fries and hamburgers, and had to restrain myself from kicking the tonnes of beer cans and plastic cups lying all over the place. Other people's gardens temporarily became places of 'convenience', as some guys decide to do some watering in broad daylight.



We wandered the streets some more, walking along the narrow streets and arteries of canals that criss-cross the heart of A'dam. Every street corner, at every cafe and every bar, music was blaring, and crowds gathered to shake and move their bodies. Old, young, 'queens', tourists, children ... everyone seemed to have lost themselves in orange fever. Boats carrying loud boom boxes cruised the canals and were boarded by people who moved frantically to the beat, in scenes reminiscent of the Gay Pride during the summer. It was crazy, this one big party, filled with bizzare kinds of dresses and costumes, diverse kinds of music. The taps kept on flowing with golden, foamy liquid, and in the air the smell of grilled burgers and freshly baked wafels made mouths water. We ended up at one place right next to the Westerkerk, right next to the house a timid girl, and writer-wannabe, named Anne Frank hid during the War. The loud band, stringy sounds of hot guitars and incessant drumming that played classic rock and pop songs could not have been a more stark contrast to what happened so many decades ago. People all over the place drank and ate, feasted and partied like there's no tomorrow. Perhaps trying to not remember that tomorrow there's still work... or in our case, class.

I generally am not such a big fan of such street parties where you have to really fight for your space if you want to continue walking. But it's always nice to see what kind of craziness people get up to. And it's always nice to do it with friends, and have something worth remembering about, so that one day we can look back and say: "Remember then..."

Queen's eve

The moon was almost completely out, but still shy, sheltering behind a thin veil of clouds. It was awfully quiet, almost unnaturally so, as I slowly cycled home. The wind was chilly, just like the weatherman had predicted, and a far, far world away from what the temperature had been during the day. Slowly I cycled home, head spinning still from the slight tipsiness induced by the loud music and alcohol. I was getting away from the the noise and choas in the city.

Queen's Eve (Koninginnenach) is perhaps the biggest national celebration in the Netherlands. It's the night before the Queen's (unofficial) Birthday, which falls on the last day of April. Since the weather is so much better than the drab dreariness and gray, and like any celebration in this country, it's always a good excuse for a big p-a-r-t-y.



For a few days in a row, people go wild in the country. The streets dye orange, as flags and banners bearing the colour of the royal family appear in a sudden frenzy. Temporarily orange-fever takes over the shelves in shops, the fashion and even the foods on offer at the supermarket. Unusually, and for the first time ever in my life, I too donned on an orange jumper to fit in.

Agreed with some friends to meet at the city centre, as traditionally The Hague has always been the place to be on Queen's Eve. Indeed, like every year, huge podiums were erected in and around the centre of town, and by the time we arrived the sea of people had already swamped what normally would be wide open squares. As expected, many were in orange, many wearing the official T-shirt of the Dutch football team, others just any odd orange shirt or pants or hats after a good dig in their closets. Lights flashed all around, as loud music drummed into ours ears.

The music was alright, but a little too random, and ended much too soon. One moment you could be swaying to something latin, and the next to a hit from the eighties, to be followed up by techno. Perhaps when you're drunk, you don't notice. And Like any open-air party, the ground was sticky, filthily littered with cups of plastic and beer bottles and coke cans. The air smelt of that smell of beer, one that I personally find nauseating, worsened as other revelers spill it onto you in their half-drunked swagger with two, three cups of beer in their hands. Walking around you had to pry your feet up in order to take the next step, of course, always mindful not to step on the delicious-looking remains of someone else's dinner (and/or lunch). At least the company of my friends was pleasant enough to make the rest seem bearable.



My favourite moment was the 'afterparty', when two girls and I ventured through the crowd and managed to end up in front of the building where we usually have classes. Right next door was a club, playing a (random) mixture of songs. Perhaps it was the alcohol acting up, or the ridiculousness of the way many fellow Dutchies were dancing around us, but we seemed to have suddenly cast off our conscious selves and indulged in what seemed like endless frolicking and fun. We did the pogo-dance and seeing each other's laughters and claps we were encouraged to go on dancing. Right there, in the middle of the street, in front of the very building we have our tedious law lectures, we probably made a fool of ourselves in front of dozens of people, but we didn't mind. We were having too much fun to mind, and kept on pogo-dancing, jumping up and down, spinning and turning around, getting higher and delirous from every single step. Up and down, we lost ourselves, seemingly forgetting all about the worries of the world, and life that goes with it, just enjoying the moment and treasuring it, and every moment of it.

Fun...

"I can't wait for the weekend to begin..."

Pretty catchy song... but the girls stripping I could do without...

Summery days

Sitting at home, the sun is shining brightly outside, like a beautiful day in summer.
Just wondering what to do...

The past month or so has been probably the busiest I can remember. First were assignments I needed to finish, then came the big moot competition, which kept me basically occupied for a good week or so. And immediately after the competition, I had my own moot court to prepare for, which meant another week or so of working almost non-stop to rush to finish a 15000 word memorial together with two other girls from my class. Endless, it seemed. Dead tired, it really was. And to add to that, I managed to kill an innocent snail the other day, while being in a state of complete and utter exhaustion...

But suddenly, it all finished. Leaving me a little empty inside, and wonder what to do. I know I should probably start thinking about the exam in a month's time, or even start working on the thesis due by the end of Summer... but I think I deserve a little break.

Even though it was busy, it was definitely worth every moment of it. The moot court competition took place successfully, and perhaps because I was so good, my boss offered me a position to work on through the summer! Just as I was thinking and worrying about what I'd do, and where I could find a job, it came all so unexpextedly. It's just two days a week, but it's paid, and involves basic management of the office I've been working for in the past few months since September. It's perfect, since it'll give me the flexibility to combine with my thesis writing... and also will be a financial boost to my plans to take a Euro-rail trip with some friends : )

As for the project I was working on with two girls, it went extremely well, especially given the short time we had to complete it in. We were given a fictional case about the fumigation of coca crops to argue, which involved Ecuador taking a case against Colombia before the ICJ for breaches of international law. We were the applicants (suing!) and our claim is that Colombia's plans to eradicate coca crops does damage to human life and the environment, and also harms our State.

For one whole week, we worked on it constantly, to the extend that we started to dream about the case itself in the few hours of luxury we had to sleep. It was probably the best team work I've ever had, as we were all so dedicated and willing to work together and to make sure that the final product is clear and coherent. Of course, cups after cups of tea, cartons and cartons of cigarettes (but not for me!!!), and bags and bags of chips and chocolates and biscuits helped to prolong our ability to go on until the early hours of the morning day after day... And because my defences were down, I caught a nasty cough and felt somewhat miserable throughout the week.

On Tuesday past, we submitted the memorial, and dressed up to plead in 'court'. I wanted a little group hug before we all went on stage, but it was a little embarrasing so we ended up shaking hands. And we awed the audience and the judges with our pleadings. We answered the questions that were bombarded at us with respect and which even made our judges impressed. As I stood there, before this mock court and before the watching eyes of my class, I felt so unbelievably confident. Whatever questions that were thrown at me, whatever objections were fired against my arguments, I (and the others of course) deflected them in grace and style. All the while, I kept that smile on my face, which someone had remarked charmed the audience.

Afterwards, we toasted and drank to our success. Even though our eyes were red from lack of sleep (and my throat still aching, while my conscience was still fragile from having killed another living being...) we celebrated at night away, sitting in the garden, watching a DVD, munching on more junk food and chocolates and pizza, filling ourselves with white wine...

We went our separate ways, again at 3am, but realising we were so much closer together.

"Oh, my god... I killed something"

Stepping into the frigid night air at 3am, I heard a crunching sound. I was dizzy, delerious, and exhausted like I never felt before from the constant writing, meetings and researching over the last seven days or so, but the sound coming from under my shoe shook me awake.

I knew it wasn't good, and suspected what I had just done. I looked down, and confirmed that I had just crushed a snail to bits, and saw the slimy liquid reflect in the dim street light. "Oh my god... I killed something!"

I kept on apologising to the snail, even though it probably was no longer conscious.... or worse, already dead. More than 12 hours of working on a big project due tomorrow with my classmates did not make me feel less guilty about what I did. Which is strange, since a moment before I was so tired I couldn;t think of anything else but bed...

I really need to get some sleep before the big presentation tomorrow... but I'll be thinking of the snail I just killed, and hope it will now and forever rest in piece(s).

A moot week

(Peace Palace)

It was a week I was at first somewhat dreading, but at the same time excited to face. But it went by, despite the exhaustion, meagres hours of sleep, and running around--at times like headless chickens from place to place-- amazingly quickly.

The big moot court competition my colleagues and I have been planning and organising finally came, and went. Quite smoothly, besides the occasionally glitches and mishaps here and there, on the whole. It was not easy taking care of 25 teams from 25 different European countries, with around 200 attendants, assistants and staff members. Getting the whole moot court competition running and according to our tight schedule of court sessions, dinner and fun activities was a headache, but in the end we managed to pull it off.


The students who came were impressed, and delighted at how great an experience it was for them all. From the accomodation to the travel arrangements, from the catering to the closing party, from our carefully selected judges to the carefully chosen teams from many of the top universities of Europe. Everything and everyone came together like they were supposed to, and for close to four days, we roamed the hallways and court rooms of the Peace Palace, deliberating, engaging in deep discussions about this hypothetical case of HIV/AIDS, and becoming more enriched by the experience of it all.

It isn't anyone who can wander the Peace Palace freely like we could. But for the thirtieth year running since the start of this Competition, the building that houses the International Court of Justice itself was our home and office. Aspiring international lawyers, both organisers and attendees, in smart suits and in the companies of some of 'the best of the best' legal scholars and experts in the field... I've not felt some 'powerful' and proud of myself in a long, long time.

(The bench of the International Court of Justice)

Being international law students, it was being inside the 'mecca' of our studies, and we could not resist the temptation of posing next to those 'sacred' seats of the great judges inside the Great Hall of Justice, from where all these cases have been pronounced. We walked around, snapping pictures of this room and this ornament-- all donations from one country or another-- all arranged in such grandeur and style remiscent of a medieval castle.

Of course it wasn't just sightseeing, despite the fact that each time I walked down those grand staircases and corridors my breath was held in awe. There was a lot of running around to be done, making sure that students and special guests knew where they are supposed to be, and behind-the-scenes work that needed to be done so that everything clicked together like clockwork. I also managed to 'network' a little, and acquaint myself with some professors and students, and finalise a number of places to visit for my next holiday.



At the end of four days, I was exhausted... it didn't help that the night before we partied into the early hours at a beach club , and had a bit too much to drink that a number of people kept on buying to show their appreciation of my hardwork.

I went home, sat down and soon enough plopped myself into bed and lay there sleeping for the next day or so.




For rare pictures from inside the Peace Palace, go to:

• Peace Palace- New Academic Building
• Peace Palace VI
• Peace Palace IV
• Peace Palace III
• Peace Palace II
• Peace Palace

Disclaimer: All views expressed are personal, and do not reflect the actual position of the Competition or of its official organisers.

Work, work, work!

It was after eleven at night when I got home, and eight in the morning when I left home.

The second last day before the BIG moot court competition, and it's really work, work, work. So many things to finish before all our guests start streaming in. Already went to pick up three teams from three different countries this morning... three down, only twenty-two teams from twenty-two countries to go.

Been running around the entire day almost, buying this, carring that, doing errands...and then writing emails, printing, copying, wrapping presents, doing all the finishing touches. But I'm glad I have such wonderful colleagues/classmates working together... otherwise I can't imagine what kind of table throwing and shouting and swearing we'd have because of the pressure and time constraints. And the team members I've met so far are really, really friendly. At least as far as I know.

So... four days of competition about to begin. Four days of wearing suits and tie, chique shoes and shirts. Four days of 'Sir', 'Madam', 'Your Excellency', 'Your Honour'. Four days of being on constant standby ready to answer questions and help people. It's not hard work, but it's tiring.

But it should be a really great experience... after all, not just anyone can walk around freely inside the Peace Palce, meet all these important judges and ambassadors. And there'll be so many new people from different universities all over Europe.

And there's free food too.

How gay?

Fascinating article someone sent me today. As much as I don't really agree that science can explain everything about human life and behaviour, some conclusions are striking:

“If you can’t make a male attracted to other males by cutting off his penis, how strong could any psychosocial effect be?”

[...]
Whether women describe themselves as straight or lesbian, “Their sexual arousal seems to be relatively indiscriminate — they get aroused by both male and female images,” Dr. Bailey said. “I’m not even sure females have a sexual orientation. But they have sexual preferences. Women are very picky, and most choose to have sex with men.”
[...]
Sexual orientation, at least for men, seems to be settled before birth. “I think most of the scientists working on these questions are convinced that the antecedents of sexual orientation in males are happening early in life, probably before birth,” Dr. Breedlove said, “whereas for females, some are probably born to become gay, but clearly some get there quite late in life.”
[...]

Dr. Bailey believes that the systems for sexual orientation and arousal make men go out and find people to have sex with, whereas women are more focused on accepting or rejecting those who seek sex with them.

Similar differences between the sexes are seen by Marc Breedlove, a neuroscientist at Michigan State University. “Most males are quite stubborn in their ideas about which sex they want to pursue, while women seem more flexible,” he said.

[...]

A somewhat more straightforward clue to the origin of homosexuality is the fraternal birth order effect. Two Canadian researchers, Ray Blanchard and Anthony F. Bogaert, have shown that having older brothers substantially increases the chances that a man will be gay. Older sisters don’t count, nor does it matter whether the brothers are in the house when the boy is reared.

I do have a brother, so...

PIL Day Out

(PIL: Public International Law)

Cheeks chapped and red from the early Spring sun, and winds that never seemed to be with us, but always against us. Bones sore, and muscles aching from the overdose of exercise.

What was a sudden ‘Schnapsidee’ to get together for Easter in the end it turned into some forty kilometres and almost eight hours of non-stop cycling and hiking. More torturous for the others (especially the hunter-gatherer guys amongst us), since the rented lady bikes had no handbrakes and only one gear. Trying to keep up with my tendency of racing whenever I hop on a bike was perhaps hard enough, but the wind and the countless ‘mountains’ we had to conquer along the way made the leisurely ‘PIL Day Out’ a real ordeal. But divided we are weak, and today we proved to ourselves that advanced and regular together we can ‘Climb every mountain, ford every stream, search high and low".

Every journey begins with a big brunch, and we stuffed on the tones of eggs, chocolates, all sorts of warm bread and cold juices. Calories and any excess body weight gained attributable to me could be burnt later, I reassured. Soon enough we were on our bikes and hogging the inner lanes of the cross-country bicycle highways with our turtle speeds. The legendary PIL Tour had begun.

Being devout loyalists of the monarchy and so grateful for the fact that some great-, great-, great-, great-, ancestor of the Queen had decided to lay the foundations of what is to be The Hague as his hunting ground, we of course had to pay her a visit. We stood before the gates of ‘Huis ten Bosch’, only to be disappointed that the Queen was not in and had apparently forgotten our afternoon tea appointment. No matter, as we counseled ourselves with the fact that we were mere metres to the very building (though perhaps then not yet inviolable) where the Hague Peace Conferences took place.

Onwards we went, in search of our future residences in the luxurious and wooded neighbourhoods of Wassenaar. Translated literally, it would mean ‘to wash-strange’. Perhaps that’s why so many ‘stinking rich’ people love to live in what is the most exclusive area of the Netherlands. Enormous free-standing mansions with tennis courts and swimming pools rolled by, some big, lavish-looking cottages to house the gatekeeper at the beginning of what was more a tree-line avenue than an ordinary drive-way. Shame, the mansion opposite the residence of the Canadian ambassador I had my eyes was just been sold. “One day…”

We amused ourselves watching family dramas unfold from the top of what may have been the second highest hill in the country. We could see the scenic electric pylons in the distance, watch the occasional yellow trains fly past, and admire a certain talented football-players-to-be tackle at everyone and everything except the ball. Then it was through the dunes we went, braving the steep gradients and treacherous uneven cycle-paths that led us closer and closer to where the salted-sea breeze blew and lured. Finally, after expending all that energy and effort which made the rush to finish a paper the night before the deadline seem like a stroll in the park, the wide-open sea lay there waiting lazily before us. As did the ice-cream and ‘poffertjes’ (wo)man.

We sat down to coffee, tea and mediocre service. Though the weather was fine, and the water ‘lovely’, we enthralled ourselves with deep and revolutionary debates about the virtues and evils of nature vs. nurture, feminism, bio-power, identity, and why (to be politically correct, some) girls always seem to go the bathroom together.

On we rode on our metal horses, encountering magpies, a lone pheasant, and plumb pigeons, swarms of “killer, blood-sucking” mosquitoes, and realised the true meaning behind “doing it like rabbits”. We stopped once or twice to climb up to lookout points to take in the skyline and argued amongst ourselves which spire belongs to our beloved and revered Peace Palace. Posing like the inquisitive PIL-students we are, we looked on with philosophical glimmers in our eyes, in search of the horizon.

After numerous “Another fifteen minutes…” from me, we finally got to the fish restaurant at Scheveningen. We were all starving, and drained, our knees weak, faces sober like we just walked out of an exam we failed. The wonderful Dutch hospitality and service never ceased to amaze, but the food was pretty decent overall. All save for the tortured look of three twisted fish heads and hollowed corpses at the end.

Being diligent and proud PIL-students, we could not but pay homage to our place of worship. We cycled through the night, braving the black forests of Schevenigen which are rumoured to have countless sex-addicts lurking around after dark (sorry I didn’t tell you this then!), and with held breaths arrived at the Peace Palace. Easter Sunday, the sun had long set, it was close to ten at night, but we stood almost banging at the gates of the holy sanctuary of international law. In the end we satisfied ourselves with numerous shots of the another moment to remember in the years to come. We may be on lady’s bikes, and some of us may not even have backlights, but made a solemn vow to ourselves that we will one day return in all the glamour and glitz we could possibly muster. Next week, dus, for Telders.

What a day... what a great PIL Day Out!

Easter

Been really busy the past week. The moot court competition I've been helping to organise is starting next week, so there are many loose ends and odd jobs to finish. Seems like nothing's ever done, and there's always more to do! The other day I was at the office from 9 to 7, got home, and worked more until 9! It's tiring, and some of the things are tedious to do, others just downright irritating (especially when you contact people and ask them questions, but they don't answer your mails!!!) , but in the end it's worth it, and I have a lot of fun at work with my colleagues.

So come Tuesday, we'll be receiving the first group of guests... in total twenty-five groups from all over Europe, so it's a lot of people! After that, it's three full days of work, work, work. In a way I'm looking forward to it, since me and others have been working on this since September. That feeling when everything comes together is great... then again, you hope that people will enjoy themselves and have fond memories of their time here, so there's 'pressure' to make things go as smoothly and problem-free as possible... everything, from the catering to the party, from the set up of the moot court sessions to the arrangement conference room tables, from the travel to the accomodation... little details, but things that hopefully will click together and work as planned.

Thankfully there's a long Easter weekend before all this, so time to relax and take it a little eas(y)ier before the busi-ness sets in. Been cleaning up the whole day today... my balcony has grown green and mossy over the winter, and leaves were collecting. Gave it a big swipe and sweep, and it's clear and fresh and ready to be sat on when the sun is out and bright! Planted a few pots of daffodils and hyacinths and hung them over the edge of the balcony... a refreshing feeling of Spring in the air, especially so with the sight of budding flowers.

I've invited a bunch of my classmates over for tomorrow. It's Easter Sunday, and I thought since none of them have family here, it'll be nice for them to have a 'homely' brunch. So went to buy a lot of food, and some of them will be bringing choclates and eggs. Should be quite a feast! For the occassion I promised to 'fast' a number of days... It was hard, and at times difficult to resist, but finally tomorrow I can have chocolates again!

Stroke

Suddenly today I got a mail from my cousin saying that my aunt had a stroke a few days ago. Thank goodness it was mild, and she's more or less recovered (I hope), but still it's messages like this that really stun me. Being so far away from my family, it's moments like this that you realise when you get to know what happened, it's already a few days later. This was a relative... but it could very well be my parents. What then?

Which made me think about my dad.... not that I don't think about him from time to time. Ever since he left around a month ago, I've not heard anything from him at all. I call hom every single week, but never have a chance to talk to him. I talk to my mum, but dad never answers the phone or bothers to call me. So I really don't know what is happening with him, or how he's doing. All I know about him is through my mum, and she said they've not talked to one another for over a month... the other day she cooked and asked him whether he wants to eat. He didn't answer and just looked at her like she's the number one enemy... I really don't understand what dad is up to, or what's going on inside his head... all this hatred and anger, how can you be happy and peace with yourself with all these negative feelings?

That's why it’s so disturbing to hear that my aunt had a stroke, and to know that it runs in the family. What if one day…? I dread to think of it, but it is a possibility. And the more I do not hear from my dad, I less I know about his wellbeing. If one day something does happen to him, when am I going to know? Who am I going to hear it from? What do I do...?

Beach at sunset

There’s something strangely romantic about an (almost) empty beach. More so when the sun is setting, and the sky is dyed in streams of orange, red, violet and dark, dark blue that collapse and merge into one another in a natural blend.

It’s been a while since I last went to the beach, and because the sky is getting darker later and later since the change to summertime, I cycled to the beach after dinner. It was nice and quiet, as the hordes of tourists have disappeared as dusk slowly approached. So it was just me, and the waves… a few other faceless couples in the distance, and curious dogs that came, sniffed and went away again.

So quickly Autumn and Winter went, and Spring is creeping in, while Summer is just lurking behind. But standing there watching the sky get darker and darker, all that didn’t seem to matter for a moment. The waves came and tried to ‘tag’ my feet, but I was most of the time quick to get away. Playing with the sea seemed such a precious gift, especially when at the back of my mind deadlines and things to be done are whispering.

1st of April

(Couple in love at the beach)

It was my brother's birthday yesterday. No real big celebration, as he seemed a little 'distracted'. Perhaps the fact of turning 27 isn't something to look forward to. I can imagine, four years from now, how that must feel like.

Though I did get him some present. He may not have remembered my birthday, I did remember his. Because he loves to drink coffee, and makes huge mugs in the morning with those instant powdered coffee, I thought I'd get him a coffee maker. The latest 'sensation' is called Senseo, an invention made by Philips and Douwe Egberts, which is a famous Dutch brand of coffee. Basically, instead of coffee powder or beans, the coffee comes in pads that you put into the machine. With the help of high pressure and boiling water, a really aromatic blend of coffee comes out! Or so I hear... personally I don't really like coffee.

I had gotten the machine about a week ago. Went to a couple of stores to compare prices, and before buying I thought to myself I'll spend a maximum of around €50... But when I got to the store, I looked around and there were a couple of models on sale. The cheapest, and oldest model, was indeed around 50... but it was blue and plastic... the next best was 20Euros more, and the only difference was the water storage was bigger... and then I saw it. The very best, metalic coating, adjustable nozzle, extra, extra large water storage, coffee brewed in 30seconds... a must have! But the price....

I remember standing at the store, and the lady telling me all these functions. She could see that I was struggling, and that I probably wanted to spend only a little. I told her it was for my brother, and that actually birthdays come only once a year. She smiled, and sympathetically said it must be a hard choice. I stood in that showroom for like ten minutes... wondering whether my brother deserved such a nice present. To be honest, I can't remember the last time he did anything for me... I wondered if I would be a fool, and whether I would be, as always, much too nice to the point that people just take for granted the things I do... I thought about the kind of treatment I've be getting at home, and but balanced that thought against the fact that things have been going better between us recently... I thought about what someone once told me about how those instant coffee powder can be bad for your health, and reminded myself that brother's been drinking the same coffee day in and day out for years... I thought about how if you buy something, it'll be for a long time to come...

Later I would walk out that store parting with €130. Exactly enough to pay my mothly tuition fee instalment, but I was happy because I knew I could make someone else happy.

So the machine's been sitting in my room, hidden under some clothes for a week, and finally this morning I put it in the kitchen before brother went downstairs. I was excited, doing something so 'sneakily' without arousing any suspicion at all. Brother was of course very surprised, in a pleasant way, and kept saying I shouldn't have. Even just before bed, he thanked me again.

After all, it was his birthday, which really does come once in a year, and only once in a lifetime, if you think about it...

'Why don't you like me?"

Do I attract you?
Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?
Am I too dirty?
Am I too flirty?
Do I like what you like?

I got to be wholesome
I could be loathsome
Guess I'm a little bit shy
Why dont you like me?
Why dont you like me without making me try?

I tried to be like Grace Kelly ( mmmm )
But all her looks were too sad (ahhh ahhh)
So I tried a little Freddie (MMMM)
I've gone identity maaaad!

I could be brown
I could be blue
I could be violet sky
I could be hurtful
I could be purple
I could be anything you like
Gotta be green
Gotta be mean
Gotta be everything more
Why dont you like me?
Why dont you like me?
Why don't you walk out the door!

'I DO feel like dancing...'

She likes to push open my door late at night, and sneak in, sit around a bit, maybe even jump around on my bed, before she leaves, only to come back one or two hours laters. As sweet as Kitty can be, she can be pretty annoying at night, especially when she can pay a night visit to my bedroom.

I usually get woken up by her visit, since she's always so (hyper)active at night, jumping around and up and down, making the bell around her neck ring and ring. So I didn't sleep too well last night, and had to wake up only for work.

With the BIG event drawing closer and closer, I promised my boss to dedicate three days of my week off this week to work. Originally I wanted to spend some time working on my thesis and doing some reading, or even go on a long cycle trip... but a promise is a promise.

There's really lots of things to do, the little organising details and procedures, tonnes of printing to do, evelops to stuff, and emails to write. Less than three weeks, and it's really show time. All these months of preparations and organising the moot court will hopefully all come together and hopefully everything will go smoothly as planned. But before that, there's still a lot of work to be done.

At first I didn't feel like it, since I'm so clumsy with my body, and always feel so self-conscious. But two girls from school managed to convince me (and another) to join as their dance partners for their salsa class. I was pretty tired after work, but still went anyways.... since I had said I would go, and a promise is a promise. I wasn't expecting to enjoy it.

But enjoy salsa I did! Not exactly a pro after the first ever dance lesson, but I guess I'm getting the hang of it... We had to first master the 'simple' the four-step Bolero movement, and from there we could build on the routine... left leg forward, resting the weight on that leg, lifting the right leg up (ONE)... right leg down, resting all the weight on that leg, while lifting the left leg up (TWO)... bring left leg together with right leg (THREE)... rest a little (FOUR)... and repeat, but stepping backward this time. Sounds easy, but with my clumsy and stiff body, it took me a while to get into the rhythm, and the teachers were patient enough to dedicate extra time and attention to me, so I could eventually stop tripping over!

The friend I went with was also very patient with me, and stayed by my side to count the steps as I practiced. I'm not a very 'touchy' person, especially when it comes to girls... which was one reason I originally didn't want to go dancing... but it actually turned out to be alright. We held hands, I rested my hand on her back, and she rested hers on my shoulder, and it was pretty alright. At least I didn't start to shake with nervousness or sweat my palms... though it was still pretty weird to be so close to another person, literally face to face, alsmost lips to lips... especially a girl!

Then came the hip moving... and I realised, boy, I can really move those hips!! : ) Up, down, up down, left, right, left, right... to the beat of quick-beat latin dance music. It was pretty amazing, and the hour of class went by all too quickly. I was sweaty, my stiff bones were aching from having not excercised for I don't know how long, but I was smiling and looking back at myself in the mirror-wall in the dance room.

Till next week!

'Interview with God'

Something to watch and think about...

Love in the air

It seems to be everywhere I look. Love, and manifestations of it. In the way couples play with each other's hands... in the way they whisper to each other softly, and stare into the depth of each other's eyes... in the way they touch one another's bodies... in the way they close their eyes and kiss.

Somehow I seemed to notice it more today... in the train, on the streets, in the shops, and even between two of my friends who unofficially seem to have become a couple. Even 'kids', probably no more than thirteen, were so deep into each other at the busstop! I looked out the window as the flat, gray landscape rolled passed. You try to look at something else, to focus on the trees and sheep going passed you outside the window, but someehow your mind turns back to the intimacies and warmth between two people in love. I turn away, try to block away the feelings that are caused by what I see around me, but trying to block it out seems to make it all a little worse.

I guess at least I can come home and find comfort in the fact that Kitty is there waiting for me.
Is it comfort, or perhaps a little sad?

First day of Spring

It was officially the first day of Spring yesterday. Hail, rain, gusts of storm-force winds. For some reason the weather turned, and it suddenly became so very, very cold.

Been kept occupied in the last few days by a number of papers I've got to hand in for school. Just completed two in the last week, and am about to start another one, which will be the final one of my entire studies, or at least that's what I think... Seems like I've been writing and reading non-stop in the last few days, to the point I literally feel faint! But I guess it pays off, and I'm kind of proud of what I've managed to written. With around a month or so of classes left to go, I'll be more or less finished with my whole course... except for that thesis I have to complete by the end of Summer. Sometimes I can't believe it's almost the end... when it seems like it only started yesterday.

Not much interesting's been happening lately... The other day was my brother's girlfriend's birthday, and I woke up especially early on a Saturday to bake a cake. I had bought some flowers and hidden them in my room, and waited till she woke up to give her the surprise. Well, she wasn't all that enthousiastic for some reason, and the cake was only half eaten... and I know for a fact I took a bit part of that half. So the strawberry-flavoured cheese cake with rasberries on top lay in the kitchen for four days... I haven't been home to have dinner much this week, and only this morning did I discover that the cake had actually gone mouldy.


It hurt somewhat, and I felt a little insulted too. I went through the trouble to buy ingredients, (and fresh rasberries are pretty expensive this time of the year!!), and hide it all, and then make it so early in the morning... I remembered promising myself I'd never do anything nice again... but then this afternoon I received the two tickets I had bought online for them to go see this famous beautiful flower garden that just opened.

I gave the tickets to them anyways... I just can't stay angry at people for very long.

'Male Restroom Etiquette'

With the help of "The Sims", a narrator, and centuries of documented practical experience, we've got:

Past midnight

It's just past midnight. One of those moments I should be going to bed, but not quite
ready yet... one of those moments I could finish off a paper I'm writing, but not quite got the braincells to read anything else any more... so I guess I'll just write about my day.

Went to bed pretty late/early last night, at around 2am, working on the paper due next week. I'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing, but once I get started doing research, I just read on and on and on, and don't feel like stopping. And for a short paper of 2000 words in length, I've got some 70 footnotes that total to around 3500 words alone! And I'm not even finished yet. I guess I have what is called 'footnote fetish'... almost every single sentence I qualify my arguments or refer to similar and contrasting arguments with a footnote. So a typical example would be this:

It is such a perspective of a “millenist, triumphalist, upbeat”[1] liberal international society that echoes concerns of a return of standards of civilisation under the liberal label.[2] Indeed, a “facile universalism”[3] of standards in the international system would overshadow the political, economic, social and historical idiosyncrasies of our “multicultural (as opposed to cosmopolitan)” international society".[4]

Too pedantic? Too detailed? Too much fine print dealing with something that says very little? Not sure, but it's 'lawyer-ly', and I do enjoy writing like this, because it makes me feel... smart!

Anyways, I only managed a few hours of sleep before I had to get up just before eight to go to work. I had to turn back home almost immediately after leaving home because somehow the circular lock on my bike came off and started to make embarrasingly loud noises against the wheel as I cycled.

I was somewhat sleepy, but the sun was out and shining wonderfully like an early day in spring. And somehow I always feel so 'energetic' and excited about going to work, even if it's just one day in the week.

As I arrived, a couple of boxes were spread over the floor, and my colleague excitedly told me about the 'goodies' and books that a number of sponsors have sent us. About time, since for the last couple of months we've be trying to solicit ('beg') for sponsorship and for whatever people can spare to support the event on HIV/AIDS we're organising. Luckily, we got a positive response from UNESCO, which sent us two big boxes of information packages. My colleague nonchalantly opened one, and started to show me the wonderful things that were inside the info packs... Between it all was a little foil package, and I curiously removed it.

My colleague saw the expression on my face, like the expressions of so many other people who realised what it was that I was holding, and burst out laughing. It was a condom, not just any condom, but a female condom, with on the back vivid pictures and careful instructions showing how to put it on (or in?). The rest of my co-workers came, and each were equally surprised and burst into laughs as I was. So now together with the latest collection of contraceptives, we also a bunch of red ribbons, a number of lollies with 'Safe Sex' printed on them. And still to come is another big batch of condoms. We have so much that my boss asked whether we'd like to take some home with us... without thinking too much, I said no. Well... I guess taking them home will be a waste, since the chances of them being used in the near future is... (lower than) slim : /

Come mid-April, when our guests start to arrive from all over Europe, we'll be standing at the door welcoming them with our huge supply of condoms and other 'accessories', and say: "Welcome to Holland"!

---

[1] José E. Alvarez, ‘Do Liberal States Behave Better? A Critique of Slaughter's Liberal Theory’, 12 European Journal of International Law 183 (2001), 189. At 192 Alvarez talks of the “oppressive voice of neo-liberal hegemony”. Much of this ”liberal triumphalism” can be traced back to Francis Fukuyama’s seminal declaration that “with the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government” history was at an end: Gerry Simpson, ‘Two Liberalisms’, 12 European Journal of International Law 537 (2001), 539; and also Susan Marks, ‘The End of History? Reflections on Some International Legal Theses’, 3 European Journal of International Law 449 (1997) and Gerry Simpson, ‘Democratic Liberalism in International Legal Theory’, 15 Australian Yearbook of International Law 103 (1994). See also Alex Mills and Tim Stephens, ‘Challenging the Role of Judges in Slaughter’s Liberal Theory of International Law’, 18 Leiden Journal of International Law 1 (2005), 29. Patrick Capps, warns that liberalism seems to justify “unilateral interpretations” by the Kantian proposition of a ‘league’ powerful states “of what objective morality requires when applied to a highly complex world”: ‘The Kantian Project in Modern International Legal Theory’, 12 European Journal of International Law 1003 (2001), 1020. Euan MacDonald cautions against “neo-liberal imperialism”, the foundations of which “rest on an incoherent mixture of selective positivistic analysis, highly contestable political science, and the essentially uncritical acceptance of a 200 year-old political theory”: ‘International Law, Democratic Governance and September the 11^th’, 3 German Law Journal (2002), available online at: .

[2] Fidler (1984) speaks of “the standard of civilization [having been] reincarnated n the standard of liberal, globalized civilization”: 411. Anghie (1999), similarly writes that “the civilizing mission may be reconstructed in the contemporary vocabulary of human rights, governance and economic liberalization” (80). Simpson (2001) distinguishes between ‘classical Charter liberalism’ which emphasises “tolerance diversity and openness together with an agnosticism about moral truth” (539), and ‘liberal anti-pluralism’, which is a profound form of “illiberal conformitarianism” that views original Charter conceptions of sovereign equality as “an absurdity” (541). Koskenniemi (2002), 54-67, outlines that the origins of the ‘liberal project’, with human rights as “the fundamental objects of protection by international law”, took root at around the same time as European expansion in the late 19^th Century.

[3] Thomas Carothers, ‘Empirical Perspectives on the Emerging Norm of Democracy in International Law’, 86 American Society of International Law Proceedings 261 (1992), 262-264.

[4] Gong (1984), 244.

Monday morning

Woke up at 8.08am this morning. In order to get on the train and be in class at 9, I usually have to leave at 8.10.

"Oh, sh*t!" I thought to myself as I read my watch. The sun was already up and bright, but I was feeling pretty miserable for having such a wonderful start to Monday morning. Within 10 minutes, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, tried to get my hair in order ( realising again that it was a bad idea to shower and then go to bed...), got dressed, and got on my bike. I cycled as fast as I could, but it was exactly those moments when you're in a hurry things get in the way to slow you even more. Traffic lights, slow cyclists, cars...

I missed my regular train, but thankfully there was a slow train a couple of minutes afterwards, which would get me into Leiden (where I study) a little before 9. I ran and skipped through the streets, and managed to complete a walk that would normally take 20 minutes in around 10. Sweaty, hungry, out of breath I got into class, ten past nine. We have this unspoken rule at the university, the so-called 'Leiden quarter' (Leids kwartier)... usually classes don't officially start until a quarter past the hour, so I was technically still on time.

It was a slow and boring class, even more so because the weather, in what seemed like the first day of spring, was so lovely outside. The lecturer asked questions from the 150+pages of readings we had to read to prepare for class, but nobody seemed to have read anything... because frankly the text is so tedious and technical that you'd have to read two, three times to understand. A grueling two hours, and class was finally dismissed.

Almost the rest of the day I spent in the library, working on this paper due for next week. The topic is up to us to decide, as long as it's related to a theme of international law. In my undergrad studies I had come across criticism of international law as Eurocentric and as something simply forced upon the rest of the world. And more recently I came across literature about how international law was used in the 19th Century to justify colonisation and imperialism under the banner of 'humanity' and 'civilisation'... so obvious, with my flair and attraction for the critical, this was what I chose my topic to write about. There's more and more talk of liberalism's virtues of human rights, democratic governance, rule of law, and more and more you see certain states preaching these idea(l)s, or even setting these conditions for other states if they want to be accepted as a member of the (so-called) 'international community'. Well, it occured to me that perhaps today we are not that far away from the slogans of 'humanity' and 'civilisation' as we presume to be... that perhaps today international law is not something that can be applied universally because it appears to be so neutral and so accepted by all. So in my paper I'm going to try to draw the links between 'civilisation' then, and liberalism now, and how through time and different contexts, the (neo)colonial tendencies and inequalities of the international system have not shifted away from the hegemony of the few over the many. Fascinating, mind-boggling stuff... at least I find! :)

Anyways, after sitting in the library reading (and getting distracted by cute people walking around...), I took a break and went to see an old colleague of mine. We've not seen each other for almost a whole year, since she's been on fieldtrip to a far, far away land called Angola. It was like old times, we sat down to dinner, and two hours later were still sitting there, leaving only because the waitresses were wiping the tables around us in a subtle sign telling us to go. She's one of the few close friends with whom I can talk to about anything and everything. We chatted,I told her about my (love-less) life, family, studies, my disgust of bourgeois pretences like the gala I attended sometime ago... and she told me about her adventures in the 'bushes', about being phone-tapped (possibly followed), and the extremes of poverty and super-rich-dom in Angola.

I cycled home, not in a hurry like I was while leaving home his morning, and admired the beautiful stars on this wonderful, calm evening.