From school gym to work table

At the start of the year, I decided I needed a desk. All my activities—writing for work, blogging, painting, sewing, and the new kid on the block, calligraphy—took on the dining table, and that wasn't working for me anymore. In winter, the dining room was hard to heat because of its size and its proximity to the outside hallway, so I would end up taking my laptop with me into bed... and not getting anything done! A proper desk would give me a place to build a routine around and would be great for my productivity. 

I knew what I wanted: a desk that was at least 1.5 meters, longer than it was deep, with space for me to do more than just one thing at a time. It had to have a tabletop that I wouldn't mind staining with paint or ink, made of a warm material (no metal, no laminate). It had to have character—possibly used, preferably vintage—but clean lines. It had to be something we could repurpose as a console or buffet table if we ever needed the space it would take up in the guest room. Finally, it had to be something I would want to take back with me if we ever moved back home (so no Ikea). 

So I started looking around—thus the trips to Van Dijk en Ko, the IJ-Hallen flea market, and more. I constantly referred to my little collection of home offices on Pinterest to keep me on track. I saw a lot of desks that were tempting, but not quite there—too deep, too low, too short, too expensive. 

Then my friend Karyn, who shares my love for old and repurposed things, drove me to the little town of Baarn, just 20 minutes out of Amsterdam, to visit J. van Ijken Oude Bouwmaterialen. Oude bouwmaterialen means old building materials, and that was exactly what Mr. van Ijken had for sale—an entire hectare filled with old floors, doors, windows, tiles, tubs, gates, knobs, bricks, fireplaces, you name it. All of it reclaimed from homes, ships, churches, schools, bridges, train stations and more, waiting to be found by odd people who love old things with character. Like me.

When we walked into a warehouse filled with old floorboards, I was immediately seized by a wild thought. If I couldn't find my perfect desk... should I just build it?

These are the kinds of thoughts you have after living more than a year in a country and culture where everyone does everything themselves. You hear about people building houses and you start to think, it can't be that hard.

This old herringbone floor from Hungary reminded me of a beautiful herringbone desk I had seen on Pinterest, and inflamed my confidence. "Yes," it whispered. "Just build it." 

Then I saw just the thing. Old hardwood planks from a school gym in Holland, for €60 per square meter. Pops of color. Lots of character. Perfect.

Finding the wood spurred me into action. That afternoon, I picked up a pair of clean, shiny chrome Vika Moliden legs from Ikea for €25 apiece. I got Marlon on board (you didn't think I was going to build this all by myself, did you?), and we agreed to rent a car and come back for the planks.

The following weekend, the owner himself, Jan van Ijken, helped me select the pieces that had this old colorful tape. I'd hoped I could have the tabletop built there and just cart it home in the car, but he was very clear about that not being his business. "I supply the wood," he said firmly and gruffly (but not rudely). He did help me cut the planks into my desired length of 1.5 meters, so thanks, Mr. van Ijken!

After purchasing some wood glue and a small power sander, it was time to build my work table.

Cafe culture

One of the major ways I've changed over the years has to do with the way I travel. As I get older, the more I prefer a laid-back pace. Although I can be meticulous about researching and planning an itinerary for each trip, I get stressed out by careening from one activity (or "tourist attraction") to another. Instead, I enjoy the spaces in between, the times spent doing just nothing. 

Maybe it's because I'm not 19 anymore and have less energy. Or maybe it's the European influence. They are very good at doing nothing and simply enjoying the moment. I used to laugh at Europeans sprawled in the sun on any available patch of grass. Before our tour of Prague Castle, Marlon and I "wasted" a good half-hour just sitting on a bench by the Vltava river, enjoying the warm sunshine and the view of the castle across it.

Another European "time-waster" that I have happily embraced is their cafe culture. I was actually craving for it in Prague: to just sit down and take my time to enjoy a good coffee and pastry. Luckily, the Cafe Louvre on Narodni Avenue combined my craving for some downtime with a piece of Prague's history.

Similar to the Belle Epoque in Paris, prominent intellectuals and artists of the day would gather and mingle in cafes like this one. Opened in 1902, the Cafe Louvre was frequented by the likes of Franz Kafka and Albert Einstein. 

Thanks to its strong Austro-German influence, Prague is an amazing place for cakes and pastries. It was hard to choose, but eventually we ended up getting a poppy seed cake with a fine dusting of sugar and a serving of caramel ice cream. We also got the thickest, most delectable hot chocolate, so thick it couldn't be sipped and had to be licked off the spoon. My favorite kind!

I cherish these lingering times. That to me is what makes a vacation (or as the Europeans say, a holiday). I treasure the luxury of not having to do anything. I embrace the gift of simply enjoying each other's company, and of shared pleasures like reading and drawing (hence our Mucha-inspired collaboration).

And I take delight in savoring the little differences that are just interesting as the big sights—like how coffee is served with a little glass of sparkling water, for example. No idea what it's for, but I thought it was quirky.

How do you prefer to travel? And have you noticed it change over the years?

Whisked away to Prague

Marlon's birthday weekend was one of the high points in my short "career" as a wife. Continuing our private tradition of birthday whisking, I decided to whisk him away to one of the most beautiful cities in Europe: Prague. 

The best part was that Marlon had absolutely no idea where we were going until we were actually inside the plane! No, I didn't blindfold him—I just checked us in online, did the bag drop myself, held on to the boarding passes and documents so he couldn't see the gate number, and shepherded him past the sign on the gate. KLM cooperated by not doing any kind of boarding announcement (surprising). I also think men can be really dense when they want to! So, to see his face light up when the purser announced our destination was a huge payoff for me. Worth every penny and every minute of secrecy!

I kept the surprise under wraps since December, when I found a great deal for a flight+hotel package on KLM. Without it, this lowly freelancer wouldn't have been able to afford three nights at the 4-star Art Deco Imperial Hotel in Prague's Stare Mesto, or Old Town. The room we got was small, but after a year of budget travel in Europe, it was such a luxury. 

It's also been a while since we enjoyed a good hotel buffet, so breakfast in the stunning Cafe Imperial (frequented by the likes of Kafka) was a real treat. 

The hotel was also superbly located, just a short walk from everything you could want to see in the Old Town, and not too far from the New Town either. Just on the same street, we found a great Czech restaurant called Kolkovna Celnice, where we celebrated the birthday boy with a very late (and very Czech) lunch of local beer and spicy sausages.

It was a gorgeous day, sunny but with a slight chill in the breeze—perfect for walking and exploring the Old Town. We passed gorgeous buildings like the Gothic-era Powder Tower...



... and the House of the Black Madonna (where there is in fact a Black Madonna, well protected, on the right), a Cubist building from 1911.

It was only a few minutes before we reached Prague's Old Town Square. Click on through to see one of the most beautiful town squares in Europe.

Adventures in babysitting

Coming from a culture of live-in help, the concept of babysitting is completely alien to me. It's something I only know vaguely from the paperback series of my tweenhood, like Sweet Valley High or (you guessed it) The Babysitters' Club. 

I have two friends who recently became first-time moms within weeks of each other, and watching them makes makes me realize that despite being used to hardship in many ways, we Manila girls are very, very spoiled in the areas of childcare and household help. As a child of a single-parent household, I had a yaya until the age of 11. So I haven't completely wrapped my head around the idea that Marlon and I (well, mostly I) will actually have to do everything—as in everything—ourselves, with only occasional help. I have to admit, I'm slightly terrified. 

I got the chance to take a peek at the life that awaits me when my friend Michelle needed help watching Maddy, her six week-old baby, while she packed for a move. Since it was a Friday night, I got Marlon to come along (he should know what to expect too, right?). 

Michelle and I sent Marlon out to buy pizza while we girls got to do the fun stuff, like hold the baby, change her diaper (pee only, thank goodness), and document her newest skill: rolling over. Adorable.

The most fascinating thing for me to discover was the process of elimination involved in soothing a baby. With the baby unable to communicate what is causing its discomfort, it seems you just have to go down a list of possible options until one works. Hungry? She just fed. Sleepy? Maybe. Needs pacifier or finger to suck on? Try again. Needs to "talk" or move around? Get up and do that. Needs to sit up or lie down? Put her on her cushion. Needs changing? It's about that time.

Michelle made it look really easy to decipher Maddy's "signals", but I guess that comes from doing the same things over and over again for hours on end!

Aside from being a total bundle of cuteness, Maddy was really easy and seemed to take to me well enough, falling asleep in my arms more than once. She was a little more anxious (see the face) with Marlon, who held her and hummed to her, melting my heart in the process. It was all fun, but I guess I can only say that because I get to leave the baby behind at the end of the evening!

You might wonder if this experience has made us feel anything about having a baby. Well, I've known for a while that it's time, and so has Marlon. It's like I've woken up and realized that I'm no longer 17... and that it's no longer a disaster if I get pregnant! They say there's no such thing as being 100% ready for parenthood, but the two of us agree that at least emotionally—individually and as a couple—we're as ready as we'll ever be.  

In fact, we're hoping that this will be the year. So, wish us luck. Any volunteers for babysitting?

His & hers

You know you're getting old when you start giving and getting appliances for Christmas.

This is a little late, but we only opened Christmas gifts when we got back to Amsterdam early this month. So... yes! Marlon's Christmas gift to me was a sewing machine. And yes, I sew! Or at least I've started learning to. 

I signed up for a weekly sewing class in September last year, and I really enjoy it. I'm a complete beginner—I've never made anything on a sewing machine in my life—but I've managed to produce one dress and a heap of cushion covers. My teacher is this beautiful Portuguese power granny who is the sweetest lady ever, and has made learning so much fun. I'm looking forward to expanding my sewing skills this year, and this gift is perfect for that!

For my gift to Marlon, I decided to surprise him with something he's been lusting after for quite a while now—a Nespresso machine. We had one in our temporary apartment when we first moved here (a full year ago, how time flies!) and we both enjoyed using it, especially Marlon. 

Too bad it was a complete FAIL in the surprise department. The day we left for Manila, I made this big production of making Marlon stay in another room while I wrapped the Nespresso machine. Then I hid it behind the armchair in the living room. But I was so harassed that day, I actually left the empty paper bag with the giant Nespresso logo on it right in the middle of the living room... and forgot all about it! 

Nice guy that he is, Marlon didn't let on that he knew what my gift was until Christmas. Boy, did I feel like a huge dolt. But he loves it and uses it every day. If he's happy, then I'm happy too!

Yearender

What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

LIVED IN EUROPE. (This is the big one!)
Traveled in Europe without having to apply for a visa.
Painted my own walls (in the bedroom and living room).

Picked up furniture off the sidewalk.
Celebrated Queen's Day in Amsterdam.
Used a bicycle to get around.

Learned Dutch. 

Found myself in Paris twice in one year.

Joined a running group and worked up to running for 20 minutes straight.
Grew my own herbs.
Had fresh flowers at home every week.



Wore a bathing suit at a park.

Drove a boat.

Started writing my very own blog column!
Volunteered for TEDxAmsterdam.
Went on a hot-air balloon ride!
Witnessed the changing of all four seasons. 



Sang at a wedding in the south of France.
Went swimming in a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Went swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.
Did my grocery shopping at a market (not a supermarket).

Learned how to sew (so far, a dress and cushion covers).

Learned how to knit (made a scarf).
Learned how to dance the salsa.
Learned how to bake (my favorite dessert: lemon tart!). 

Hosted a dinner party for 10.
Hosted five house guests, the most I've ever had at one time.
Bought serious rain gear (and wore rain boots).

Stepped inside a windmill.

Edited videos for money. 
*WHEW!*

Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? 

I don't make New Year's resolutions. But this year I set goals (something that always works for me when I remember to do it) and achieved many of them. That's something I will do again this year.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Susie and Tinus, our dearest friends from Singapore, became the parents of a gorgeous baby boy named Max, the day before we moved to Amsterdam. We were his first visitors at the hospital!



Later in the year, another Max was born—this time to my friend Leslie in Amsterdam.



Did anyone close to you die?

Tito Rolly Cailles, one of our wedding godfathers, succumbed to leukemia.

What countries did you visit?

Switzerland, Portugal, Norway, Italy, Germany, Belgium, France, Turkey and the Philippines.

Year four

Marlon and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary with five days in Boracay. Holing up in our own little world is just the kind of thing marriage gives us license to do, without setting off a wave of wagging tongues!

Financially, 2011 has not been the best year for us—although we were prepared for that when we made the decision to move to Europe. So, no gifts this year. But just out of curiosity, I looked up a list of traditional wedding anniversary gifts. We've never followed the traditions (year three, leather = missed opportunity!) but upon seeing that year four is supposed to be fruit or flowers, I suggested that we share a Boracay favorite to mark the occasion. 

Yep, for our fourth anniversary we gave each other mango shakes from Jonah's! Slurping them in the shallows, under the sun, was absolutely perfect: another great memory to add to our growing list.

 Then Marlon made me funny things out of sand...

like a perfect white sphere carved with our initials...

an "Angry Birds" inspired effigy of Rogue (a.k.a. "Angry Cat")...

... and the silliest gift of all, a "love lump" in the sand. I told you this was a low-budget anniversary!

Thank goodness for Boracay's spectacular sunsets. Instant romance! Libre pa!

We both love, love, LOVE Dos Mestizos and make sure we have at least one meal there wherever we're in Boracay. So we didn't even consider any other restaurant for our anniversary dinner. Aside from their scrumptious paella, we also love their ostras fritas (fried oysters with aioli).

And don't even get me started on the bread pudding. My mouth is literally watering at the memory.

We decided to hoof it all the way back to our digs in Station 1. After walking past the perya atmosphere of Station 3 (all I can say is: not for me), I heard a familiar voice at Bom Bom Bar. Hello, Armand!

I've known Armand for years but was my first time to see him perform a full set.  In fairness nag-enjoy ako. He sure knows how to spread good vibes. And his songs are catchy. #proud

So that was our anniversary. Simple and sweet, but filled with all the things we love to enjoy together: travel, food, music and each other's company. I couldn't ask for more. 

A few thoughts on dreams

Parang kailan lang, ang mga pangarap ko'y kay hirap abutin...

These lyrics from Florante's Handog leaped out at me from a video posted by Will, from the current Glee Club, on my Facebook wall this evening.

Bigla kong naalala na noong kaedad ko sina Will, pangarap kong tumira sa Europa. Hindi ko alam kung paano ko gagawin, pero lagi kong iniisip na sana, balang araw, makabalik ako at makatira dito.

So ang ibig sabihin, dahil nandito ako ngayon, nagkatotoo ang pangarap ko.

Kiddies in Prague, 2001. Slight digression: why did I think I was fat?

I sometimes lose sight of the fact that I'm living a dream fulfilled: when it's cold, rainy and gray for what seems like the umpteenth day in a row; when I see other people living in fantastic locations; or when I'm slogging through a ten-page immigration document written entirely in Dutch.

How easy it is to forget that my dream came true. So when I do remember, the realization can hit so hard it sometimes brings tears to my eyes.

Though it may seem like it to people who don't know me or Marlon very well, it may seem like I got to Europe by latching on to a jet-setting expat type (or an expat-to-be) with a career that would take him around the world. But I'll tell you something not a lot of people know.

When Marlon and I first started dating, the plan was very different. I was dead set on living in Europe (how, neither of us knew... but I was going to do it!) and Marlon needed to follow me, somehow. That was why he took his overseas job with a multinational company in the first place: because he thought it would give him the best chance of following me wherever I decided to end up.

This is the first step that the man of my dreams took in making my dreams come true. He believed in me. He saw me as a person who could, and would, achieve some whacked-out dream like that. Never mind that I had zero plans. Never mind that every time I thought about what I wanted, I wanted it so bad and felt so far from having it that I easily wound up bawling every time. He simply believed in me.

Over the course of the next four years, he took another simple but very difficult step. I can sum it up in four words: he stuck it out. I mostly mean the long-distance thing, but there are other, bigger things that nearly blew us both in separate directions. But he just hung in there. And because he did, so did I.

Then, last year, when I started getting itchy feet and questioning our life in Singapore, he did one last thing that bridged the gap from there to here. He listened. It wasn't easy for him to consider such a big change, with the career he had built and the comfort we enjoyed. But he listened, and that single act encompasses so wonderful things. Being someone I felt I could talk to about anything, enough for me to open up in the first place, is one. Sharing my sense of adventure and love for travel, valuing what we agreed our marriage would be, and not being bound to money or comfort, were others.

And this is why I—why we—are here.

Thanks to PKF for the photo!

There are as many dreams as there are ways of making them come true. All I'm saying, really is that this life, and the man I'm living it with, has been one of mine.

A world of our own

Part two of Marlon's birthday bonanza was something I knew he'd always wanted, but would never buy for himself: a globe!

Google led me to Stanley & Livingstone, a small store selling a wide variety of globes, maps and travel guides in Den Haag. So I arranged to meet my German friend Robert, who lives there, for a quick coffee and a trip to the center of town to check out the store. "I'm meeting Robert for coffee," I told Marlon the day before his birthday. What he didn't know was that I was meeting Robert in Den Haag!

And what I didn't know was that Robert had his own ideas for my little visit. "We can bike to the beach, then back to town, then to the center of town for coffee," he suggested. "Er... maybe not," I replied, thinking of my fledgling repertoire of biking skills, which mostly consist of huffing, puffing and wobbling. "I'm a beginner! I've never biked here before!" 

Aba, di patatalo ang Aleman. "This is Holland," he replied. "You have to get on the horse—by that I mean the bike—sooner or later." So get on the bike I did, said bike being Robert's folding bike from Dutch mega chain store Hema... which, I might add, is not the easiest thing for beginners to practice on. 

Robert was pretty tough on me, I must say (must be the German influence). Even after witnessing my red-faced struggle to mount his bike and get it moving in a straight line, he didn't cave in when I wheedled, "I don't think this is going to work." (Marlon probably would have, though!) 

Instead, he wisely decided to not ride through city traffic and took me on a quick spin through the Haagse Bos (a nearby woods/park) to the Queen's Palace. And by quick, I mean 20-30 minutes... just about enough time for my legs to cramp, for my butt to become sore, and for me to wonder why I was pedaling frantically through the woods after an athletic, whip-cracking German tenor when all I really came here to do was buy a fracking globe! 

I did end up buying the globe that afternoon, and Robert gallantly carried it for me all the way back to the train station. (Maybe he noticed me hobbling and felt sorry for me!) At home, I hid the globe among the pile of moving boxes in the guest room, and tried to sit as normally as I could on my aching bum to keep the trip (and gift) a secret from Marlon... who was so puzzled as to why I seemed so tired that evening.

I went for a vintage-looking globe called the Renaissance globe, and chose a Dutch version because it was just so much prettier than the English one. I figured if we ever leave the Netherlands, it would be a nice reminder of our time here. I also chose a globe that lights up, because as my sister so wisely pointed out: "At least you can use it as a lamp, because are you really going to sit around in your spare time looking at a globe?" She has a point!

This globe has a soft warm glow that I like... and that Marlon does too!

The countries are up-to-date, but the globe is full of little details that hark back to the golden age of seafaring and exploration, such as sea monsters, nautical icons, and even the routes of famous explorers such as Drake and Magellan.

The secrecy, the sore legs and even the aching bum was all worth it when Marlon came home from his dinner at De Kas to see the globe lit up in the darkness of our living room. He loves his gift and I love it too!

Dinner at De Kas

Every year, whenever I ask Marlon what he wants for his birthday, he simply looks at me with a smile and says, "I have everything I want." (Cue melting heart.) This year, I decided to pour my entire month's (meager) freelance earnings into celebrating his Big 3-0 with a three-part gift. 

Part one was the birthday dinner. I took charge of choosing and booking a restaurant. After running through a shortlist of choices from my trusty Time Out Amsterdam, I chose Restaurant De Kas, which sits in the Frankendael Park in the Oost (East). 

De Kas is located in an old greenhouse that dates back to the 1920s, and used to belong to the Amsterdam Municipal Nursery. Slated for demolition, it was rescued in 2001 by Michelin-starred Dutch chef Gert Jan Hageman and converted into a restaurant. 

It also still houses a small nursery, where herbs, vegetables and flowers are grown for the restaurant. The owner now heads the nursery, and together with a team of chefs, cooks up a weekly set menu of three starters, a main course and a dessert that is based on the produce harvested that week. I was hooked by the concept and the location, and thought it would be great to try seasonal food, something completely new to us. Luckily, I was right and Marlon loved it!

Whenever Marlon and I go to a restaurant here, the first thing the server asks is if we'd like something to drink. This always throws us off, and we normally end up going blink blink at each other... before ordering water! And that always throws the server off, because it seems the appropriate response is to order an aperitif... something absent from our food culture, and thus something we know nothing about. 

I was determined to be prepared for this restaurant visit, and thanks to a very informative thread in Fodors' forums, now I know! The Fodors foodies suggest a number of liquors such as champagne (the most common aperitif), grappa (which I've tried and hate), port and sherry, but the suggestion I liked most was to ask if they have a house aperitif and try it.

At De Kas, the house aperitif is champagne with an herb from the garden, which that night was the lemon geranium flower. Ordering an aperitif is the kind of thing that makes me feel like a grown-up!

I enjoyed the seasonal meal, which came with white wine for the starter and a red for the mains. Everything was so fresh, so light and so... so spring! I always hear the judges on Top Chef judges food with words like "bright" and "clean", and for the first time I understood what that meant. 

The not-so-bright part of our evening was when Marlon found a piece of steel wire at the bottom of his dessert. Yup... steel wire. I'm not talking about steel wool na pangkuskos, I'm talking alambre here. Though it was only about 2-3 millimeters, Marlon called the attention of the server.

The response of the staff was admirable. Three different members of the staff came over to apologize. The last was the manager, who waived the bill on dessert and immediately investigated the kitchen. She brought over a large mesh strainer and explained to us that it had most likely come from that. As we were leaving, we passed by the kitchen and saw her chewing out a pair of chefs. I thought the staff handled it well and it wouldn't stop me from coming back. I'm just glad nothing bad happened and that Marlon managed to enjoy every last bite of his dessert!

Before we stepped out, we stopped by the herb garden for photos. Our server gave us a little tour and pointed out the most interesting plant in the garden: oyster leaf from Iceland, so called because... they taste like oysters. Seeing our skeptical expressions, she plucked two fat, fleshy leaves and gave them to us to chew on. And you know what? They really did taste like oysters!

Nights like these are what make me extra thankful to have freelance work. If not for my rakets, I wouldn't be able to treat him and make him feel happy and special, like he always does for me. And I'm even more thankful to have a husband who enjoys such simple pleasures and shows so much appreciation for every little thing. It may be his birthday, but I think I got the best gift of all.