The Prince Is Dead! Long Live the Snake!

When nephew Josh and his fiancee Skye passed through Amsterdam during their European vacation earlier this month, little did they know the drama, action and intrigue that awaited them.

After months or perhaps mere minutes of preparation, Ben and Sophie produced the world debut of the original puppetshow "The Prince Is Dead! Long Live the Snake!"

A heartwarming tale of loss, animalistic violence, tragedy, mourning, kissing, rejuvenation, celebration of life and a non sequitur reference to an alarm. What's more, Josh and Skye found themselves caught up in the actual production themselves!

Rated PG due to fierce language (Dutch). English subtitles. Running time: 3 min.

A Jolly Holiday...in Burgundy

Had a great time two weeks ago in the village of Tailly in Burgundy, France, visiting the country villa of our friend Nina and her husband Paul's family.

Ben and Sophie had a blast tromping around the grounds, playing games with our friend Peter who was also visiting from New York, and hanging out with Nina and Paul's 1 year-old Julia.

Amazing hospitality, unforgettable sights such as a tour of the family's winery cellars, and scrumptious French cuisine that has left us with a lingering longing for more.

Here's a short photo-movie of our favorite pictures, most of which are courtesy of Peter. Set in part to the soundtrack of "A Jolly Holiday" from the movie "Mary Poppins," which the kids watched endlessly - on the 7-hour ride there, one morning during our visit there, and on the ride back home.

As Mary Poppins would say, our visit was "practically perfect in every way." ; )

Czech Us Out!

We spent this past weekend just outside of Prague with old friend Tomas, his wife Helena and their two boys Matej (6) and Adam (4).



The last time we'd seen Tomas and Helena was at their wedding 10 years ago this September. They looked exactly the same. Leave it to Czech beer to have the secret to everlasting youth... ; )

Great to catch up while staying at a hotel in the town of Jicin, about 90 minutes northeast of Prague, close to Cesky Raj, an area known as the "Czech Paradise" for its picturesque naturally shaped sandstone rocks.

The kids demonstrated how play is the universal language of fun. With little overlap between Czech and English or Dutch, Matej and Ben kicked the soccer ball back and forth like it was going out of style.

On the second night of our stay, Tomas and I relived old times in co-founding an English teaching program shortly after the Velvet Revolution. With more than a little help from fellow co-founders and friends, the program resulted in 60 Stanford students teaching several hundred Czech university students in a summer-long, experiential "study tours" format: 2 weeks river rafting, 2 weeks in the mountains, 2 weeks in Prague, etc.

Fun to recall how we'd first met on my initial trip to Prague in the dark yet heady winter of 1990, just 2 months after the revolution and while the Berlin Wall was still coming down. Tomas reflected that while many foreigners had passed through the offices of Vaclav Havel's Civic Forum back then and offered help, my visit was only one of a few that eventually led to something of tangible value.

I reminded him that, thanks to him, me and several of my best friends from Stanford had a truly unforgettable time. To feel a part of a historic transition behind what had been the Iron Curtain, hosted by some of the most hospitable, friendly and inspiring people on earth - now that was something of tangible value.

To this day, Tomas still speaks with a very slight stutter, the direct result of a police baton to the head during pro-democracy protests in the run-up to the communist regime's eventual capitulation.

I can still picture Tomas sitting behind a desk, selling posters that commemorated the revolution - a harbinger of his emerging entrepreneurial prowess. He later went on to establish one of the very first major t-shirt distribution companies in the Czech Republic, and then formed a successful nationwide chain of jewelry stores. One of his most successful t-shirt designs featured the headline "Czech Me Out!"

In Jicin, after several beers and shots of the licorice-hinted Czech liqueur Becherovka, the years seemed to melt away and transport us back to the festive din of the u.Flecku pub in Prague.

Prosim, jedno pivo (one beer, please). Dva piva (two beers). And then ordering in increments of 1 or 2, or 2 plus 2, because pronouncing 3 or 4 in broken Czech ends up sounding more like a sneeze than a number.

To maximize time in Jicin w/ Tomas and family over the long weekend, we had flown from Amsterdam to Prague. But while it was great to catch up a bit, doing so was bittersweet because I began to realize just how much more catching up could be done.

Hopefully, Tomas and I will find a way to make that next visit happen soon. If we could conjure up the start of an English teaching program out of the blue that winter's day 18 years ago, maybe we can apply a little magic to connect again in the near future.

It's Spring, Let It Snow!

Today is Tweede Paasdag (tuh-vay-duh pahs-dagh) or, loosly translated, Second Easter. The day after Easter. A holiday in Holland. Time for chocolate Easter egg sugar highs and food comas and...well, this year anyway...snow!

The past couple days have seen flurries on and off during the daytime, none of it really sticking. A light coating covered the ground on Easter morning, but not much to speak of. But today...today was a different story.

A whole inch of snow! Okay, sure, that's not much for what you might think of as a Northern European winter. But considering that this winter was one of the mildest on record, with hardly any snow at all, the inch overnight was something to write home about. And on the, what, 4th day of spring? Wow.

Ben was so excited when he looked out his window at 6:30am that he couldn't resist waking the rest of us to share the good news. "Daddy," he said in his best letting-mom-sleep-no-really whisper, "there's snow everywhere."

"Okay, Ben," I muttered, "that's great. Mommy and Daddy are still sleeping, though." He obediently went back into his room where, seconds later, came the unmistakable sounds of a 3.5 Richter scale rattling. Ben shaking the bunkbed to wake up Sophie.

Things had just settled down, and Jo and I figured we had lucked out en route back to sleep, when in he came again. "Daddy," Ben said in his most serious voice, "the cars probably can't drive because the road is all covered with snow too."

"Okay, Ben," I replied, eyes half open. "But it's still early. Please close your door and keep your voice down, okay?"

"Okay," he answered, hardly containing his excitement.

Just barely drifting off to sleep a few minutes later, a certain, persistent recurring chorus could be heard emanating from downstairs. "Daaaaaaaaadddeeeee....Daaaaaaaaaaaaddeeeeeeeee." Ben's voice. Then Sophie's voice. Then Ben's voice. Then Sophie's voice.

Jo and I exchanged knowing, groggy smiles.

Game over on sleeping in.

But game on for playing outside in the snow!

The Up Downs of Turning 40

Welcome to the Grand Hotel Opduin (“op-deaun”) read the sign outside the door. Josy and I had snuck away for the weekend to celebrate – or perhaps mourn the advent of – her 40th birthday.

We’d left the kids in care of one of our favorite former nannies. Ever since the kids were born, this was one of just a handful of times we’d been able to take time away overnight all by ourselves. How refreshing!

The destination was perhaps fitting for a milestone birthday getaway. The hotel sits on the west side of Texel Island, the first in the chain of islands running from the northwest corner of The Netherlands in an arc to the northeast. The islands mark a sort of breakwater between the North Sea and the Waddensee (“vahh-den-zay”), the body of water that separates the northern provinces of The Netherlands from the ocean.


With a name like Texel, an American can’t help but think of Texas. It’s not far, after all, from the British oil rigs out on the North Sea. And when pronounced with a George W. Bush twang, Opduin sounds an awful lot like “up down.”

So there we were for Josy’s 40th, ready to celebrate or have a stiff drink, at none other than the Grand Hotel Up/Down.

Just as Texel (“tess-el”) and its related islands demarcate the more placid seas of the Waddensee from the rougher, untamed expanse of the North Sea, so too did Jo feel like she was crossing the line out of youth and into…well, the great unknown. Good thing we had a GPS.

The weather did its best to underscore this transition birthday. Winds reached gale force, delaying our ferry for three hours and driving massive swells that broke through various dikes on the island and flooded a few isolated areas.

When floods occur in places like Washington state, the forecasters often caution residents living in “low lying” areas to seek safety on higher ground. But in The Netherlands, just about everywhere is a low lying area, at risk from the sea.

Expectations can make all the difference, though. And when one dreads the impending floodwaters of a 40th birthday as much as Josy did hers, it’s hard not to be pleasantly surprised.

Maybe it was the fact we were able to spend some quality time together, without rugrats underfoot.

Maybe it was the secluded, windswept beauty of the dunes along Texel’s western shore.

Perhaps it was the picture-perfect red lighthouse beckoning out to sea from Texel’s northernmost point, while we were being buffeted silly from winds that howled with sandblaster velocity and spraypaint-like coverage into ones cheeks, hair, nose, ears and any exposed areas.

Or maybe it was simply the act of getting away from it all, and finding time to reflect on bigger questions and joys, that made Josy forget the angst of 40 and remember just how good we have it. Even with all of life’s ups and downs.

Sinterklaas Liedjes

Saint Nikolaas songs are a hallmark of the pre-Christmas season in The Netherlands. Ben and Sophie took a moment to share some of their favorite ones, which we recorded back in November. Check out this 2- minute snippet, if you're feeling brave:



I was reminded of this performance during dinner last night, by the level of Dutch that Ben and Sophie are now showing they understand and can speak. Ben, for the first time rattled off several sentences that I completely didn't follow. And Sophie launched into post-dinnertable vocal entertainment that included several new songs she'd picked up this week at her daycare.

Josy and I just looked at each other in awe, as we both realized that our children have become bilingual. One of our biggest goals for moving over here.

Here's hoping that they continue to retain the language and a connection with the culture and extended family once we return to the States in July/August...

A Pox on You...

"Daddy," said Sophie, her face showing a puzzled, slightly horrified expression, "I don't like your face."

And who could blame her. It was covered with pustulent boils and 5-days of pre-beard growth, making me look like more of a Haight Ashbury paintball casualty than, well, just her dad.

Today as I write, about a month after my grown-up bout with the chicken pox, the boils and facial hair are thankfully gone. (About this photo at right - I've always wanted to take a picture halfway through shaving off a beard.) And while energy has returned to normal, the faintest lingering topical discolorations remain - the last reminders of two weeks of insatiably itchy, sleepless, listless and lethargic fun.

I won't dwell on the tedious pleasantries of the pox, but suffice it to say that the rumors are true that it sure can be tougher as an adult than as a kid. Of course, there are many worse things that people experience health-wise, but I can't tell you how much I wish I'd gotten the vaccine.

One friend of mine who had the pox in his 30s said, "I thought I was gonna die!" I'm not sure mine got that bad, but it was even less fun than doing taxes.

Amazingly, since getting the pox, I've discovered that our elderly neighbor, our housecleaner and our part-time nanny have never had it either. And this in The Netherlands where they basically don't believe in vaccinating against this disease, which means that if you ever set foot in a primary school or daycare, you're playing with fire.

The stats on the Centers for Disease Control website don't paint a pretty picture for adults who get the pox -- much higher incidence of complications and morbidity the older you get, especially for those over age 50. Good thing I'm still 39.

Funny, but one of the most striking memories I have of the pox was the day I got my appetite back. Somehow, the act of making (and keeping down) a fried egg and cheese sandwich as the first real breakfast in a week was such a huge pleasure. How nice it can be to feel human again. And how easy it can be to forget what it's like to be sick.