I had a dream...

USA, the land of opportunity. At first, I might have been a bit skeptical, but I soon fell in love with its nature and culture. Admittedly, the American folk are a tad peculiar. What to think of people who go crazy about the thought of baby wipes warmers? But I learned to look past these peculiarities and enjoyed the life-altering experience of living abroad. I lived days of daintiness, and bounced around in bliss. Weekends of wondrous weather were bestowed on me on more than one occasion and nifty novelties made my life that much easier. But even in the midst of my joyous, fruitful, lighthearted living, I knew that my days were numbered and that my number would soon be up. I just didn't know what the ending would look like.

But alas, now I do. Apparently it looks like a giant shield on legs. A cockroach. Of all the mildly annoying creatures that co-inhabit the USA, think killer bees, think termites, think giant centipedes or even snakes, I just had to meet the mother of all yuck-bugs (yes, I do happen to know that snakes are not considered to be a bug, but since they bug the hell out of me, categorizing them under bugs does not seem illogical).

So now I'm left with my shattered dreams at my feet. Those and a dead cockroach.

A vacation is what you take when you can no longer take what you've been taking

(Quote from Earl Wilson)

Yes, we are officially back in the USA. With all the visa forms filled out, suitcases unpacked and back in rhythm (well, sort of anyway), our vacation is officially over. I won't bother you with the details of our holiday but will provide some highlights, lowlights and interesting ins(l)ights as a foreigner in Holland.

"Come fly with me..." (Frank Sinatra)
I always wondered what crazy people would take young children on a long air trip. Now I know. I want to pay tribute to the cabin crew of KLM (Royal Dutch Airlines), who made our lives much easier. They walked by just I little more often, gave small presents and extra foods, and were always open to a little chitchat with the kids. In our case, after arriving at Schiphol, eight flight attendants greeted us on our way out. Each one of them knew the names of our children as well as the names of Grandma and Grandpa. Although, admittedly, this might also be because of the perseverance of our son who asked virtually everyone on the flight if they were also going to visit grandma and grandpa.

"One small step for man..." (Neil Armstrong)
Now, I think I am stating the bloody obvious when I say that Schiphol is not a good place for children to take their first steps. But of course, my youngest - as stubborn and extraordinary as he is - considered the airport an excellent place, possibly due to the obvious connection with transportation as well as the public that would be part of his personal enactment of 'small step for man'.

"...and a giant leap for mankind." (Neil Armstrong)
Related to the previous entry: jet lags and a trip to the Emergency Room do appear to go together. Obviously, balance is a tricky thing when you've just started walking. This would be the enactment of 'giant leap for mankind', I guess. Note to other first-time-walkers: Do NOT attempt to walk with a giant stuffed animal when you are close to the rim of the bed. No, wait. Make that: Do NOT attempt to walk with a giant stuffed animal, period.

"All I want is my freedom!" (Mel Gibson in Braveheart)
Apparently, personal space is an issue in Holland. Or at least, it's my issue. I've lived in Holland for about thirty years and I've never felt deprived of my personal space. But now I've experienced the vastness of the USA, I tend to feel somewhat cramped in Holland. I do have to admit that these feelings happened to pop up in Amsterdam and Utrecht. At the railway station.

"You may delay, but time will not, and lost time is never found again." (Benjamin Franklin)
No offence to the NS (Dutch Railways), but why is it that EVERY TIME I take the train I seem to get stuck somewhere. I do not even live in Holland, and I still manage to get myself into trouble when travelling with the NS. Of the three train trips I was supposed to take, two were delayed. That would be a 67 percent delay. I wonder what price tag would be connected to that percentage. In addition, since I got stuck in Rotterdam due to some kind of accident somewhere else, which magically led to complete shut down of most train trajectories without any knowledge of when the problems would disappear again, I had to take an additional three train trips to get to where I was supposed to go. And pay an additional fee. I take it back. N.S. please do take offence. AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

"Show me the money!" (Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire)
How can you take the car rental industry serious when they offer you a car and car insurance for about 1600 euros, after which you kindly tell them you saw other prices on the Internet. Next thing you know, they magically come up with a price of 900 euros. Seriously...

"Hier aan de kust, de Zeeuwse kust." (Blof)
In the USA, it is not uncommon to know only a small part of the country. However, you would expect that Dutch people would have seen most of their country since you could travel from upper north to the utmost south of the country in about four hours. Apparently, this is not the case. It's always more interesting to go 'abroad' when you go on a holiday. Even I didn't know much about Zeeland before my parents moved there. And what a shame, because I would argue that Zeeland is one of the most beautiful parts of Holland. My advice: go there. Enjoy. And for book lovers: visit De Drukkerij in Middelburg. On second thought, this advice would go against my personal space issues. By all means, stay away from Zeeland. Nothing there.

"Beautiful people, you live in the same world as I do." (Melanie)
Although we live about as far away from Holland as is possible on this planet, I am grateful that friends and family did not forget about us, and were willing to come over to see us. We'll definitely come back and do this again. But of course you're always welcome to come visit us.

Oh, and don't take the title too literally. It's great to be back!

*Vacationing in Holland. I´ll be back*

Queen's day in the USA

Contrary to our personal tradition in The Netherlands, we did actually celebrate Queen's day last week. In San Francisco. Is there a celebration, I hear you say. Yes! Is it any good, I hear you say. No, but is it ever? Were there any people, I hear you say? Yes, of course there were. But were they actually Dutch? Yes, even that happened to be the case. As it so happens, the place was packed with Dutch people. And also with San Franciscanians, San Franciscosians, San Francisthigamees, who wanted to see what all the fuss was about. "Those crazy Dutchmen again. Why didn't they stay home in Denmark? Go back to where you came from. But leave the Hågelsläg." So what does Queen's day in San Francisco entail? Well, I could make this a very long and dreary story, but I won't. Similarly to Queen's day in Holland, people tend to dress up in orange, make a lot of fuss about nothing, play really loud, nasty Dutch tear jerkers, drink a lot of beer, have a flea market and bike decoration challenge, eat cheese and herring, and be proud of their Dutch heritage. But to add just a zest of American flavor to Queen's day, there were at least two minor alterations:

1.
Designated beer drinking areas. Designated as in design or something, because the designated area was fenced off with a cute white garden fence about knee high. Just high enough to stumble over after a couple of beers probably. The result of this: a lot of Dutchies huddling together with beer spilling everywhere, and some really adventurous Dutchies succumbing to the craving to find out how far they could cross the fence frontier until they really pissed off the policeman standing there. Which apparently was not far at all. Mind you, I did not succumb to the craving myself. Although I did find out that you are allowed to drink your beer standing inside the designated drinking area, while your hand that actually holds the alcoholic poison (and thus the actual poison itself) is not inside the drinking area. Bad, bad me.

2.
Having to sign in order for your kid to participate in the Dutch sack race (zaklopen). Because beware the day one of the participating children actually trips over the sack and falls. I actually though that was part of the game, and that you are disqualified if tripping does not happen. But hey, at least they did not make parents sign their name in blood. Or in the blood of their children.

But to be fair, it was a lot of fun to see a whole lot of Dutch people over here. And another advantage to this whole Queen's day in the USA is that we might get Lucas to recognize orange as orange instead of brown, which he insists it is.

USAccident part II

Hurray, finally! We've got ourselves another accident report (or as a friend suggested, a 'gewondheidsverklaring'). I thought we'd never get another. Is it just me, or are you wondering how Kwint managed to hit his foot against his forehead too. Limber dude right?




Related to accident issues, my eldest son is an avid insect hugger, which can be potentially harmful both for insects and Lucas. Yesterday we were playing outside when he found a fly.

Lucas: "Look mom, a fly."
Me: (basking in the sun with my eyes closed) "Good for you, hon!"
Lucas: "Look mom, I put in on my hand."
Me: (still eyes closed) "That's nice."
Lucas: (more insistent) "Look!"
Me: (ok, this cannot be ignored). "Ah, cool"
Me: (upon closer look) "Uhm, hon, I don't think that's a fly." "It's a wasp."
Me: (definitely trying not to panic). "It's not such a good idea to put wasps on your hand, Lucas. They can sting. Anyway, I think the wasp is tired, we should put it in the bush here."

Lucas: "Yes, the wasp is tired. It needs to go to sleep." "And after he wakes, he can watch some television, right mom?"

And on a completely different note: I got invited to attend a private Botox party. Dubious honor I know. But if they manage to get 15 people to attend, we all get a discount AND free appetizers. Now, who can refuse that?

Pardon the pun(ishment)

I know I have been notoriously absent these days. But I've got excuses, many of them even legal. First of all, we had some friends over. This meant a lot of nice evenings and road trips to Yosemite and San Francisco. I won't bother you with the details, you'll just get jealous. Secondly, I've attended a very interesting brain workshop in Berkeley. But perhaps my most legal excuse is the fact that I've started to write a column in a monthly magazine on pedagogical issues (Tijdschrift voor Orthopedagogiek). That also means I won't be writing about all my interesting new ideas and experiences on this blog anymore. You will have to make do with discards.

But do not fear. There are so many things to write about that my cup floweth over. Today's highly controversial subject is capital punishment. Always a drop-dead party topic. As it so happens, I live in a state which has the death penalty. To make matters even more interesting, we're also the proud owners of the 'three strikes and you're out' law. So I've taken some precautions: I don't cross any speed limits, I do not jaywalk, and I most certainly do not walk my elephant down Market Street (SF) unless I have him on a leash. Imagine the stress when Ellie (pet name for our elephant) did a Houdini on me. But luckily the curious incident of the elephant in the nighttime went unnoticed by the police. I'm sorry, I am digressing yet again.

Capital punishment. Highly controversial. The brain-workshop enlightened me on the subject of lethal injections. Apparently, the current system involves three injections which are in fact all lethal in and of itself. Talk about overkill. The first injection consists of sodium thiopental, which causes unconsciousness and eventually death in 30 to 40 minutes. The second injection consists of pancuronium, which is a muscle relaxant, causing paralysis of all muscles (including the ones you use to breathe with). The last and most lethal injection consists of potassium chloride which stops the heart in a matter of minutes.

I won't hide the fact that I am dead set against capital punishment. But this aside, I was mildly amused to hear about the issues surrounding lethal injections. For instance, they were produced by one company only, an Italian pharmaceutical company who eventually declined this dubious honor. Allegedly, this has led to shortage of supply for some states, as well as problems regarding approaching expiration dates.

So far for the general stuff. On to the psychological stuff, my area of expertise. I was shocked to hear about a recent incident concerning Texan psychologist Denkowski who conducted assessments on inmates facing death penalty. These assessments were conducted as a result of a 2002 ruling of the Supreme Court that states that mentally handicapped persons can not be executed, although they failed to formulate criteria for a mental handicap. I guess the notion is based on the idea that mentally handicapped people are unaccountable for their actions. In the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), mental retardation is diagnosed based on three criteria:

1. Significantly sub average intellectual functioning (IQ of 70 or below), AND
2. Concurrent deficits or impairments in present adaptive functioning, AND
3. Onset before the age of 18.

Although Denkowski used the formal criteria of the DSM, he inflated scores of inmates based on his personal encounters with them. Concerning intellectual functioning (the first criterion), try to follow his reasoning:

Apparently, Denkowski feels that traditional IQ tests do not compensate for social and cultural factors. Can you follow? No? I'll make it easier: people from impoverished backgrounds may not be able to answer questions correctly, because their community did not give them access to this knowledge. Now, do you follow? No? What about this: some people do not know how to use a thermometer, because their community does not value using a thermometer. But that does not mean that these people are mentally handicapped.

Now, it gets better (or worse). Consider his reasoning on the criterion of adaptive functioning. Usually, this is done by administering questionnaires and interviews with family and friends of the person under assessment. But no, according to Denkowski, this would lead to an underestimation of the skills since family and friends would want to evade execution of their friend or family member.

Why was Denkowski able to get away with a settlement with the Board of Psychologists? His penalty consists of a fine of 5500 dollar and an agreement that he will not conduct intellectual disability tests in criminal cases ever again. I'd say that definitely beats the penalty his victims got, even though their crimes might have been terrible.

In my world, everyone's a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies!

(title comes from Dr. Seuss of course)

While I was attending a journalism class during my Ph.D. years, we had these assignments in which we had to translate scientific research into articles for magazines. It was one of the only classes I actually wanted to take, although the choice is made much easier when you have to choose between journalism and 'ethical questions in your research'.

I had fun, although I doubt my teacher approved of the subjects of my writings. One of the most interesting subjects I chose to write about was a study on the relationship between a parasitic infection (Toxoplasmosis Gondii; TG) and schizophrenia*. To summarize, rats are prone to TG. When infected, they become these kamikaze-creatures with a craving for hugging cats. This is great news for TG, because they can only reproduce in the bowels of cats. To make a long story short, rat eat TG, cat eat rat, cat scratch man or man eats cat (depending on the country you live in), man becomes schizophrenic.You still with me?

Now this is all fine and dandy, but we want scientific proof, right? So enter Professor Jaroslav Flegr, who found significant behavioral changes in humans as a consequence of infection with TG. Apparently, women become polygamous with a craving to spend money, whereas an infection in men leads to an increase in aggressive, jealous behavior. Great combination, which would fit neatly in the kamikaze theory I think. How this would be connected to schizophrenia is not clear though.

More 'clear cut' evidence for a link is the finding that schizophrenic people more often hug with cats compared to non schizophrenic people (54 to 42 percent). Although you could argue that the fondness for cat-hugging resulted in schizophrenia for the cat-hugging people, I could easily counter that by claiming that schizophrenic people might feel a fondness for cats precisely because they can relate to the whimsical (schizophrenic) behavior of their pet-of-choice. It's the ancient question of chicken and egg, converted to cat-hugging and schizophrenia.

A final piece of evidence comes from Dr. Torrey, an American psychiatrist and great supporter of the TG-schizophrenia link. He treated infected rats with two types of medicine: medicine against TG, and anti-schizophrenic medicine. Both treatments seemed to cure the rats from their kamikaze-behavior, but the anti-schizophrenic medicine was more effective.


So although your next step might be to dump your cat, you might want to consider the fact that infection with TG is much more likely when eating rare meat.


To end in style with another quote from Dr. Seuss:
"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."
(And I am sure you did get the pun of Dr. Seuss? No? The Cat in the Hat? No? Well, then you are beyond my help)

*It maybe of interest to mention that a similar relationship has been claimed between TG and autism.