A Night Out With The Boys

Wednesday (March 11th) I arrived in Groningen. It's a northern city in Holland, with a really high student population. It's not close to many other places in Holland, but it is really busy. There are some really nice, more quaint, q

uieter towns around Groningen, my family actually lives in Haren. It's about a 15 minute bike-ride to the center of Groningen. My Oom Menco, Tante Hanneke and cousins Philip (22, left of me), Albert (19, right of me) and Menco Jr (16, not pictured) live here. My dad and Menco are identical twins... just a little background update so you can better catch what I'm throwing in the this blog.

Thursday my cousin, Philip, invited me to a night out, a "discotheek", they call it here. Woo!! I night out with people (close to) my age!! YEAH-YAH! Off we went. First to his place, his student house, to drink a few Grolsch and meet his roommates and friends. Sweet. Back in the college swing, I am.

His place was neat. Really narrow, steep stairs going up (the steps in Holland amaze me. My feet barely fit on the step). "Viola!" Into the rugged world of my Dutch law-student cousin's flat. Never mind the porn on the bathroom walls, the cigarette machine in the living room, and their pet Piranha, this place was authentic. After meeting his friends, listening to some tunes and correcting a few misconceptions about American music culture with Philip's friend Jacob (pronounced YAK-cub in Dutch). I was soon to be greeted by Max. Max is the boy's mascot. A very aggressive (I did not get attacked) French Bulldog. I love French Bulldogs! Yet, I was warned by my uncle that if I pet Max I would have to count my fingers after. Thanks for the spook, Oom Menco. I have all my fingers. I will have Max cuddling with me in no time, I just know it. Although I will admit that Frenchies are a bit intimidating, they are pretty jacked and you can almost always see a tooth or two.

We had a few more beers and a glass of good Cabernet (life's too short for bad wine). I was watching them play this really weird drinking game, it is a kid's game "Looping Louis" (which you have to pronounce with a French accent, merci). It is a board game where there is a plane you have to dodge, and if it knocks all of your three coins you have to take a rets (ritZ in Dutch, a big shot/gulp). Goofy game, but it got those boys drinking, and had me laughing. I wonder if they sell "Looping Louis" in America?

After awhile Albert was on the way! SWEET! I had not hungout with my cousins since our parents were cutting our meat for us, and now we were headed to a disco-tech!! I was already feeling the alcohol, since it had been awhile since I was socially drinking, and I have a theory that all beer here has a higher alcohol percentage than in the States.

It was a close walk to the bars, like 15 minutes or so. I got to chat up some of Flip's friends. One friend was drilling me, "Why are you in Holland? There's nothing here you can't read about, nothing really to see." Harmless, nothing a little American defense that my quick-whit couldn't handle, and I'm getting well rehearsed on this subject. I had to explain to him that I was here to SEE and SMELL and TASTE everything I can. He soon letup on me. :) It's not that America has lost it's luster for me, I do not want to give that impression, but I just want to check things out for myself.

We were joking and talking trash, in English, every one's English is great here. The whole darn country is bilingual, I swear it! It makes me so jealous. It was so cool to shoot the space with my cousins, I hadn't had witty-banter with anyone since I bid farewell to John weeks ago. Jacob, who has known Philip and Albert for YEARS, is funny, I love a good smartass. He even made the comment "you and a TRUE NIEMEYER, Victoria". Which makes sense since Philip, Albert, Menco and I pretty much have the same Dad (they are identical twins). It made me feel like such a part of the family. A TRUE NIEMEYER. Has a nice ring, don't you think?

We went to a couple different disco-techs. Pretty intense techno music, a younger crowd, but it felt good to be out. The beers were much smaller that the Raleighwood-special pints I am used to nursing for a bit, so I think I had a hard time conceptualizing how much beer I was taking in (woops). My cousin Albert showed me a B52 shot, which is a Bailey's shot you light on fire, and then sip with a straw. Maybe they have them in the US but I guess I have not had the nerve to drink a flaming shot back the 'ol Americas. I introduced a SoCo and lime shot to them, well, they served it to me over ice, but same idea. I figured the closest thing to showing them the Southern flavah was good 'ol Louisianan whiskey. (See, I haven't lost my Southern Hospitality yet!)

After the discotheek we headed to some more of Flip and Albert's favorite spots. One place we went to had a dance floor and a round bar. I like round bars, they make sense, but get this... about 3 feet around the round bar, the FLOOR WAS MOVING! Albert and I agreed that it was a bit ridiculous, but amusing. If you were talking to someone and they were on the moving floor, and you were not, you got left. You had to wait around until they literally came back around. It frustrated me a little bit, but I tried to see how quickly it was going to come back, and even made an attempt to keep one foot on, one foot off, quickly resulting in a split-like maneuver. I looked like a ridiculous American, I am sure of it. But we had some laughs.

Outside the bar we quickly saw some more of Flip and Albert's friends. I was being introduced as their American cousin, so instantly people would show me how smart they were and use their perfect Engels (that English in Dutch). Darn bilinguals. It was funny to hear what people said to me "Oh! American?! You like Obama?! Did you vote for him?!" and a good, ridiculous one was; "From America? Were you a cheerleader? I once (bad word) a Mexican cheerleader!" (Maybe I look Mexican? I didn't get it either, but it was late and I'm sure drinks had been flowing)

Note on bars in Holland: They will stay open until dusk, no questions asked. So people get crazy, especially since most of these party-goers are walking or biking back to where they were sleeping.

After feeling the intense amount of college-life I been drinking, I told the boys I was hungry. "Show me to some nice, late night food, here". We went Hasrat Kebab. We ordered some Kebab's and friet and sat down. They're good cousins, and hosts.

Note on Dutch Kebab's: Maybe I am grossly misled, but the Kebab's I know come on a stick, no? These were rolls with Kebab meat in them. So I have a had time calling them Kebab's.

This is a Kebab? "Yeah, this is a Kebab." Both cousins stated. I argued a bit, but bit into my yummy-looking sandwich, chewed and swallowed and was as happy as a baby who had just learned it could fart. I like Kebab's bread or no bread, and friet are as Dutch to me as a pair of wooden shoes.

A good night always ends with people you love and food you can enjoy, at least then, anyway.