Early Saturday

Another 7:15 early morning, despite it being Saturday, thanks to neighbors making (slight) noise and my hips/knees waking up sore again. I imagine in about three months, the idea of being able to even get 8 hours of sleep a night will be astronomically farfetched.... At least at the moment I have beautiful early sunshine, and a cup of decaf coffee with extra cream. It was the last bit of decaf in the tin, and I've debated not replacing it, having heard rumours of the nasty things they do to coffee to make it decaf. 

Then again, it makes my life so much better. Tea is still good, but there's something about padding out to the kitchen and making a steaming cup of fresh French press coffee that makes me feel special. Even if it is just decaf, and a generic store brand. A far cry from the Blue Mountain or Ethiopian blends that we bought last year in little paper bags, then ground by hand and carefully tasted, wondering if we'd ever become coffee connoisseurs.... We did not, for the record, but we did learn to tell the difference between some of the blends. When I make coffee for myself, I still use the French press; when I make D's, I tend to put it in the coffee machine and flip the switch - it's still warm, then, by the time he gets around to it. And the big machine is more practical when three or more guests want coffee. For me, though, one medium cup of decaf, in the sunshine, with extra creamer and sugar... it's hard to beat. 

Tram Diversion

After a year or so of living here in Rdam, I have no idea where I am. Due to some problem, they rerouted our tram....

Ah. A corner snack shop. We're in the west side of the city, headed south towards the river. I'm not sure I've ever taken this route before. Now, 15 or so min after the diversion, we're rejoining our original route.

A young mother with a stroller (Turkish?) spoke up worriedly, asking for translation of the announcement as she hovered next to the door. A tall Dutch gentleman explained, and even told her that if she stepped out at the next halt, she could transfer to the metro and end up closer to the hospital. "I'm going that way," he added politely, "I'll show you which stop."

A dozen seats ahead, two giggly young women (Surinamese?) stopped their conversation long enough to translate the announcement for a foreign young man (American?). A few minutes later, they got his attention and made sure that he knew we were back to the original route. 

These moments of unexpected community are refreshing, when the common attitude tends to be indifference/annoyance with other cultures. "Those Moroccans, they're always so..." "Americans, well, not to be rude, but..." "Dutch people are so...." 

Today, though, a simple tram rerouting made people considerate instead of judgemental. It became okay to talk to a total stranger and ask for help; it became okay to go the extra mile and give more than just information. It almost made me wish the trams would get rerouted more often.