Nähtamatud jalgrattad / Invisible Bikes

Nagu ma varem juba maininud olen, on jalgratas Amsterdamis asendamatu. See väide ei tähenda muidugi seda, et ma endiselt nõustuks vihmase ilmaga ratta selga istuma. Seega, sõnastame ümber: minu jaoks on jalgratas Amsterdamis asendamatu, kui vihma parasjagu ei saja. Ja hoolimata minu (ja ka kõigi teiste rahvusvaheliste tudengite) pidevast vingumisest kehva ilma teemadel, tuleb ette ka päevi, kus vihma ei saja. Sealjuures on päris heaks abiks Hollandi pilveradar, mis näitab vihma võimalust umbes kaks tundi ette ja on seega küllaltki täpne. Seega, kui pilveradar väidab, et järgmise kahe tunni jooksul vihma ei saja, võib päris julgelt ratta välja veeretada.
Sellest, et jalgratas on Amsterdamis asendamatu, on peale rahvusvaheliste üliõpilaste ja muude tegelaste, aru saanud ka kohalikud varganäod. Seega kuulen pea iga nädal, kuidas mõne mu klassikaaslase jalgratas on pihta pandud. Kuu aja jooksul on ära varastatud juba kolm ratast ja see teeb mu tohutult ettevaatlikuks. Jah, mu ratas on igavene vana roostetanud plekihunnik, ei ole tal käike, ega midagi. Kuid ta sõidab ja see on siin kõikide varastatud rataste ühine tundemärk. Vahet pole, kui inetu on su ratas või kui roostetanud. Isegi porilaud võib täiesti viltu olla, kuid kaubaks läheb ta ikka.
Seega peab igal rattal olema siin peal vähemalt kaks lukku. Üks neist on hobuseraua kujuline ja kinnitatakse tagumise ratta külge; teine meenutab lehmaketti ja selle abil tuleb ratas mõne posti külge siduda. Kui posti parasjagu ei ole ja ei ole ka mõne sõbra ratast, mille külge oma ratas kinnitada, tuleb lihtsalt loota heale õnnele, et kellelgi ei tule pähe su ratas lihtsalt kaenlasse võtta ja minema jalutada.
Nagu ma kuulnud olen, on lukkude eemaldamine tegelikult väga lihtne. Nimelt müüakse rattalukkudega samas poes ka tange, mille abil lukke eemaldada. Kõik on ringluses ja äri õitseb, poeomaniku jaoks on see muidugi hea uudis. Tegelikult oleks minulgi mõned päevad tagasi tange peaaegu vaja läinud. Nimelt parkisin ma oma ratta kanali äärde ja hiljem lukke lahti tehes oleksin ma peaaegu ühe luku võtmed kanalisse visanud. Sellisel juhul on muidugi hea teada, et tangid töötavad. Samas ei kujuta ma ette, kuidas ma näiteks lukkude saagimise ajal mööda jalutavale politseile oma tegevust selgitanud oleksin.
Luku saagimist olen ma tegelikult ise ühel õhtul baaris istudes ka jälginud. Ratas ise oli ilus ja valge ning jäi kohe hästi silma. Korraga ilmus ei tea kust kaks seljakottidega tüüpi, kellel oli juhtumisi kaasas rauasaag. Nad pusisid lukkude kallal oma viis minutit, kuid ma ei näinud, et keegi oleks nende käest küsima läinud, mida nad teevad. Ja mina lootsin, et tegemist on lihtsalt hajameelsete tüüpidega, kes võtme koju unustasid. Mine sa tea. Igatahes on rattad Amsterdamis kõva äri (ma isegi maksin oma ratta eest 85€) ja ma ei tea, kas ma edaspidi üldse tahan oma ratast majast välja viia. Tea, mis sellega veel tehakse.

As I have already mentioned before, having a bike is a must in Amsterdam. This surely doesn’t still mean that I am willing to cycle when it rains. Therefore I should rephrase it: for me having a bike in Amsterdam is a must when it’s not raining. And despite of my (and all the international students) constant whining about the weather we do have days where it doesn’t rain. There is a website in the Netherlands that shows the possibility of rain for the next two hours and is therefore quite accurate. So if the cloud radar says that it won’t rain for the next two hours, you can take out the bike and not worry much if it’ll start raining after the next 10 meters.
The fact that a bike is a must in Amsterdam is also clear to the local thieves. Therefore I hear almost every week, that the bike of another classmate of mine got stolen. Already three bikes have been stolen during one month and this makes me very careful. Yes, my bike is old, rusty and a pile of crap; it doesn’t have gears or anything, but you can bike with it and that’s what counts here. It doesn’t mean if your bike is ugly or rusty or if it’s mudguard is crooked; until it moves, it is a potential catch for the thieves.
So, your bike must have at least two locks. One of them looks like a horseshoe and is attached to the back wheel; the other one looks like a chain for the cows and you should tie your bike to a post with it. If there aren’t any free posts available nor a bike of a friend, you just need to hope it’s your lucky day and noone tries to pick up your bike and walk away with it.
As I’ve heard, removing a lock is actually really easy. From the shops where you can buy the locks, you can also buy forceps for removing the locks. This is how the circulation works and the business is blooming. Actually, I almost would have needed those forceps myself a couple of days ago. I parked my bike next to a canal and afterwards while trying to unlock the bike, I almost threw the keys to the canal. In such a case it’s good to know that those forceps work. Then again, I have no idea how I would have explained my action to a police patrol if they would have happened to pass by at the same time when I was trying to saw the locks.
I have actually seen the sawing of a lock while having a beer at a bar. The bike itself was white and nice, a real eyecatcher. Suddenly two guys with a hacksaw showed up. It took them about 5 minutes to saw the locks but I didn’t see that someone would have gone to them to ask what they were doing. And I was hoping that they had just been absent-minded and had left their keys at home (but somehow remembered to take the saw?).
So, bikes are a big business in Amsterdam and I am not sure I really want to take my bike out from now on. Who knows what those people might try to do.

Parim riisikeetja / Best Rice Cooker

Eile otsustas Jamie, et kuna me oleme Prantsuse köögiga juba tuttavad (soolased koogid!), oleks aeg pakkuda meile midagi head ja hiinapärast. Meie olime kõik sellega muidugi väga nõus - millal tudeng enne tasuta toidust ära oleks öelnud? Igatahes jõudis Jamie oma kompsudega kohalikust Hiina linnast (või siin on see pigem Hiina tänav) koju ja asus köögis toimetama. Mõne aja pärast koputas ta mu uksele ja küsis, et kuna mina olen meie maja parim riisivalmistaja, siis kas ma võiks tal aidata riisi keeta. Kööki jõudes tuli välja, et teised olid talle juba oma abi pakkunud, kuid tema soovis resoluutselt, et mina riisi keedaks. Kompliment missugune, ja veel Singapuri hiinlaselt! Kohe alguses, kui tuli välja, et Jamie riisi keeta ei oska, olime me kõik üllatunud. Väga üllatunud. Kuni Justin tegi ettepaneku, et me peaksime oma majutusfirmale teada andma, et meile saadetud hiinlane on defektiga, tahame uut, kes riisi ka keedab. Seepeale Jamie teatas, et ta oskab riisi keeta küll, aga tal on selleks riisikeedumasinat vaja. Tundub, et eile oli Jamiel üldse üks tee-Kadrile-komplimente-päev, sest kuuldes, kui vana ma olen, ei uskunud ta mind esialgu. Tema arvas, et ma olen nii 3-4 aastat noorem. Juhhei! Tähendab, hästi säilinud!

Yesterday Jamie decided that as we have already been introduced to the French cuisine (salty cakes!), it would be nice to offer us something chinese. We of course happily agreed with the plan as a student never says no to free food. Anyway, Jamie got back with some cans and tins from the local Chinatown (or rather a Chinastreet) and started cooking in the kitchen. After a while he knocked on my door asking that as I was the best in cooking rice in our flat, could I help him with that. As I got to the kitchen, it appeared that others had already offered him their help, but he requested me to do it. What a compliment coming from a Singaporean Chinese! Quite in the beginning, when we found out that Jamie can't make rice, we were really surprised. Until Justin suggested that we should let our housing company know that the Chinese guy they sent us is defected and that we would like to get a new one who can make rice. Thereupon Jamie said that he can cook rice, but he needs a ricecooker for that. It seems that yesterday was a compliment-Kadri-day for Jamie, as when he heard how old I am, he didn't believe me at first. He thought I'm 3-4 years younger! Awesome! Apparently I'm well preserved!

Kiired ajad / Busy times

Kui mul blogimises tuleb sisse suurem paus (nagu praegu), siis ei ole see suure tõenäosusega tingitud sellest, et ma oleks mõne jalgratta alla jäänud, vaid ikka pigem sellest, et ma tegelen põhiliselt õppimisega. Ja kes sellest ikka lugeda tahab, et ma tegelen Euroopa integratsiooni uurimisega, või loen järjekordselt Edward Said'i "Orientalismi" ja üritan mitte närvi minna selle peale, et tüüp endise järjekindlusega ironiseerib selle üle, kuidas orientalistid (ehk siis üldiselt Lääne-Euroopa inimesed) on Hommikumaades elavaid inimesi oma 'teaduslikes uuringutes' näidanud. Ausalt ka, alguses võib ju olla põnev lugeda, kuidas araablased on laisad ja lapsikud ning et nende lemmiktegevus on kaamliga ringi sõitmine ja maha sülitamine, kuid lugeda sellest nii 300+ lehekülge järjest on ülimalt tüütu. Praeguseks olen ma juba peaaegu et ära harjunud sellega, et magister UvA's tähendabki hullu tööd ja seda vaid kahe aine korral. Vahel mõtlen ma heldimusega tagasi TTÜ aegadele, kus ka kolm korda rohkem aineid võttes oli ikka kolm korda rohkem aega. Nojah, see seal oli bakalaureus, aga siiski. Ja et mul kohe üldse igavaks ei läheks, tõin ma endale raamatukogust (Ja milline raamatukogu see veel oli! Marmorist sammastega, nagu loss!) veel 6 raamatut Talibani kohta, et alustada Orientalismi kursusel nõutud lõputööd. Justin hiljem küsis minult, et kas ma igaks juhuks mõne raamatu pommi valmistamise kohta ka võtsin. Nimelt oleks mind näiteks USAs vaadeldud kui võimalikku terroristi sellise suure Talibani-huvi peale. Nojah, pommiraamat oleks mind siis ilmselt juba mõneks ajaks trellide taha saatnud.

If I stop blogging for a while (like now) then it usually doesn't mean that I've been run over by a bike, but rather that I'm busy with studying. And who would really be interested in reading how I research the European integration or how I'm continuously reading Edward Said's "Orientalism" and trying not to be annoyed by the fact that the guy is STILL trying to be ironic about the ways how the Orientalists (the Westeners) have shown the people in the Orient in their 'scientific resarches'. Honestly, maybe it was a bit interesting to read at first how the Arabs are lazy and childlike and their hobbies are riding around with a camel and spitting on the ground, but reading about it for 300+ pages gets annoying. I am already almost used to the idea that a masters at UvA means a lot of work and this with only two courses. Sometimes I think back at the Tallinn Technical University times, where I took three times more classes and still had a lot more free time. Sure, it was only a bachelour, but still. And to make sure I won't get bored at all, I got myself from the library (And what a library it was!! It had marble pillars, like a castle!) 6 books about the Taliban to start with my paper for the Orientalism class. Justin asked me later if I also took some books about how to make a bomb. Apparently I would have been a suspect for the terroristhunters in USA for my weird interest in Taliban. And a book about bombmaking would have surely sent me behind the bars for some time.

Hollandi keelest / About the Dutch Language

Mulle meeldib keeli õppida, ent kui ma teada sain, et ma Amsterdami elama asun, ei olnud ma esialgu üldse kindel, kas hollandi keel ikka tasub õppimist. Muidugi ei teadnud ma sel hetkel keelest suurt midagi, kuid nii palju, kui ma seda kuulnud olin, tundus ta kole. Kõik need kurguhäälikud ja kuristamised, jube! Mingil hetkel mõtlesin ma siiski, et prooviks. Suureks toetavaks faktoriks oli muidugi ka see, et saksa keelt ma juba oskan ning hollandi keel on sellele äärmiselt sarnane. Lausa nii sarnane, et hollandikeelseid tekste nähes saan ma põhimõtteliselt aru, millest seal räägitakse. Lisaks olen ma ennegi aastaga uue keele selgeks saanud, miks mitte siis nüüd. Ehk on tulevikus vaja?
Lootsin, et saan keeletundidega alustada kohe, kui Amsterdami jõuan, ent siia jõudes pidin tunnistama, et UvA keelekursused on kõik täis ja alustada saaks alles novembris.
Sattusin sellel teemal rääkima ühe Saksa tüdrukuga ning ta soovitas mulle ühte keeltekooli, kus ta ise hollandi keelt õppima pidi hakkama. Kirjutasin siis eelmise nädala lõpus neile kirja ning nad vastasid mulle kohe: jah, meil on sulle koht olemas, saad kohe alustada. Suurepärane.
Seega jalutasin teisipäeva õhtul oma esimesse keeletundi. Leidsin õige nimega tänava ning õige numbriga maja üles ning helistasin kella. Midagi. Sel hetkel hakkas mul veidi kõhe, sest maja tundus kõige tavalisem kortermaja, mitte keeltekool. “Kurat”, mõtlesin ma omaette, “kas mulle on tünga tehtud või mis?” Helistasin keeltekooli numbril ja sattusin kõneposti. No tore, sedasi see Amsterdam mind tervitabki? Kõigepealt saan tünga arvutimehelt ja nüüd keeltekoolilt ka? Õnneks hakkas mu telefon kohe helisema ja teisel pool oli tüüp, kellega ma olin hollandi keele teemalisi e-maile vahetanud. Tuli välja, et ta oli mu telefoni jätta hunniku voicemail'e teatamaks esimese tunni ärajäämisest, kuid kuna ma neile kuidagi ei reageerinud, siis otsustas ta, et ma pole enam huvitatud ning võttis mu kursuste nimekirjast üldse maha. Tõesti, mu telefon oli üritanud mulle muudkui mingeid voicemail'e meelde tuletada, kuid ka peale suurt pusimist ei suutnud ma aru saada, kuidas neid kuulata saab. Igatahes jäi mulle natuke selgusetuks fakt, et kui ma olen mitu korda oma registreerumist e-mailiga kinnitanud ja isegi raha on üle kantud, siis kuidas saab ta mind kursuste nimekirjast maha võtta ainult sel põhjusel, et ma ei reageeri oma voicemail'ile. Peale väikest vaidlust saime kokkuleppele, et ta tõstab mu ühte teise gruppi ning asi oli lahendatud. Hollandlastele omase väikese kaose saatel nagu tavaks.
Järgmisel päeval üritasin ma taas oma esimesse hollandi keele tundi minna ja seekord kroonis mind edu. Uks oli lahti ja tund tõepoolest toimus. Kokku on meid grupis kaheksa: peale minu veel see sama Saksa tüdruk Carola, tüdrukud Ukrainast, Türgist, Iisraelist ja Indiast, poiss Inglismaalt ning keegi Itaaliast, kes ei suvatsenud esimesse tundi tulla. Loomulikult ei ole hollandi keele õppimine kokkuvõttes nii kerge, kui ma lootsin. Ei ole nii, et võtad saksakeelse sõna, hääldad seda hollani keele hääldusreeglite kohaselt ja ongi valmis. Grammatika ning lausete ülesehitus on see-eest peaaegu üks-ühele sama ning peale kogu seda vett ja vilet, mida ma saksa keelega näinud olen, saan ma nüüd ilmselt veidi kergemalt läbi. Lisaks muidugi fakt, et enamus häälikuid on mulle tuttavad, ainsaks erandiks see sama kurguhäälik. Hääldusreeglid kusjuures on naljakad, kohati lausa äärmiselt kummalised. Näiteks on sõna rustig (vaikne) häädusvorm umbes selline: rüstüh ning goedkoop (odav) hääldub kuidagi nii nagu huutkoup (ei tohi unustada kurguhäält h kohal!). Pusimist kui palju ning esialgu olen ma sunnitud kõikide sõnade ligikaudse häälduse üles kirjutama. Lisaks on mina-sina-tema absoluutselt mitte saksapärane. Ik kõlab natuke nagu ich, ent edasi tulevad jij (~jäi, sina mitteformaalne), u (~ü, sina formaalne), hij (~häi, meessoost tema) ning zij (~äi, naissoost tema).
Aga ma endiselt arvan, et hollandi keele õppimine on mu ülikooli kursuste kõrval tühiasi. Mul peab ju siin ka midagi olema, kus ma end targalt tunda saan!

I like learning languages, but when I found out that I'll be moving to Amsterdam, I wasn't sure about learning Dutch at first. Surely, I knew nothing about Dutch (and I still haven't got a clue!), but as much as I had heard it, it seemed ugly. All those throatsounds, uhh! At some point I decided to give it a try. A big supporting factor for this decision was that I already speak German and Dutch is very similar to it. So similar, that I usually get the main idea when I see texts in Dutch. Plus, I have managed to learn a language (more or less) in a year before, so why wouldn't I be able to do it now? Maybe it'll be handy in the future.
I hoped to get started with it straight away after arriving to Amsterdam, but as I got here, I found out that all the courses at UvA were full and I could only start in November. I happened to talk about it with a German girl and she suggested to check out a language school where she'll have her Dutch classes. I e-mailed the school in the end of the last week and they answered me: sure, we have space for you, you can start immediately. Perfect.
So, on Tuesday I walked to my first language class. I found the street with the right name and the building with the right number and rang the doorbell. Nothing. At this point it got a bit spooky as the building seemed like a typical apartment house, not a language school. “Damn,” I said to myself “I have been fooled or what?”. I called the number of the language school and ended up at the voicemail. Great, this is how Amsterdam greets me? First the computerguy and now this? Luckily my phone started to ring at that point and it turned out to be the guy I had exchanged e-mails with. Apparently, he had left some voicemails to my phone to let me know that the first class was cancelled, but as I didn't react, he decided that I wasn't coming and deleted me from the list. Yes, my phone had tried to tell me that I have some voicemails, but even after a lot of hassle I couldn't find out how to listen to them. Nevertheless, it was a bit hard for me to understand that after I had sent a couple of e-mails saying in each of them that I will be coming and even paid the money, he just deletes me from the course list because I don't respond to the voicemails. How about sending an e-mail? After some arguing we agreed that he'll put me to another group and all was settled. With a little chaos, as usual for the Dutch.
The next day I tried to go to my first Dutch lesson again and this time I was successful. The door was open and the class took place. Surely, learning Dutch won't be as easy as I had hoped. It doesn't really work in a way that you'll take a word in German, pronounce it following the rules of Dutch and yay, you're speaking Dutch! But the grammatics and the way the sentences are constructed are basically the same and after all that suffering with German it will be easier for me this time. It's also easier because besides that throatsound, all the other sounds are already familiar to me. The rules for pronounciation are funny and partly quite ridiculous. So, you'll have a word like 'rustig' (quiet) that should be pronounced like this [rüstüh] and 'goedkoop' (cheap) sounds something like [huutkoup] (don't forget the throatsound at h!). So at this point I am forced to mark down the approximate pronounciation for all the words. And this I-you-he-she is nothing like in German! Ik (I) sounds a bit like ich, but after that follow jij (sounds like [jäi], you informal), u ([ü], you formal), hij ([häi], he) and zij [zäi], she).
Nevertheless, I still think that it will be a piece of cake compared to the classes at UvA. I have to have something here where I can feel myself smart as well!

Jamad arvutiga / Problems with my Laptop

Selle nädala pidin ma veetma arvutita, sekeldustest kahjuks ei pääsenud. Loomulikult osutus arvuti ülesütlemine sekeldustest suurimaks, sest ilma selleta on hetkel elu mu jaoks peaaegu võimatu.
Igatahes avastasin ma eelmisel pühapäeval, et minu väike valge nunnu on otsustanud hulluks minna. Kuna pühapäeval Hollandis elu seisab, ei saanud ma kohe samal päeval midagi teha. Mõtlesin, et äkki otsustas arvuti lihtsalt vaba päeva võtta ja ehk alustab esmaspäeval jälle vana hooga tööd. Esmaspäeval üles ärgates kustus see lootus üsna kiirelt ja ma sain aru, et ilmselt tuleb arvuti ikkagi parandusse viia. Üks mu kursaõde aitas mul netist arvutiparandusi otsida ning valisime välja ühe tüübi, kes väitis, et töö kiire, korralik ja odav ning kui temalt abi ei saa, siis raha maksma ei pea.
Suurepärane. Hüppasin ratta selga ja olin poole tunni pärast kohal. Tüüp osutus kurja näoga vanameheks, kes elas suitsust kollaseks imbunud seintega koopas. Tema elutuba täitsid suur hunnik juppideks võetud arvuteid ja üks nuustikusarnane koer, kes kohe pai nuruma hakkas. Istusin siis diivanile lootes end mitte ära määrida ning ootasin. Veerand tunni pärast väitis vanamees, et kõik on korras. Suurepärane! Maksin 30€ ja mõtlesin, et ei tea mis otsast sa ta oma kodulehel väita, et see soodus on. Aga siiski, mu arvuti oli ju terve ja see oli kõige tähtsam. Tänasin teda ning väntasin kodu poole, isegi päike, mis end eelnevalt pilve taga peitis, tuli välja. Korraga märkasin tee ääres lehvivat Portugali lippu ja mõtlesin, et üks galão sobiks jamade lõppemise tähistamiseks hästi. Jalutasin kohvikusse sisse ja palusin leti taga askeldavalt mehelt ühe kohvi. Rääkisime veidi juttu ning ma otsustasin, et tegelikult kõlaks üks arroz doce (riisimagustoit) rohke kaneeliga ka suurepäraselt, kuna ma polnud tolle hetkeni veel mitte midagi söönud. Hiljem arvet küsides avastasin ma, et arroz doce oli olnud maja poolt. Ma panen selle tasuta lõuna oma suurepärase Portugali keele arvele. Selleks ajaks oli mu tuju juba äärmiselt hea ning kui ma majast välja jalutasin, peatas mind üks brasiillane, kes seina ääres viinamarju sõi. Ta haaras seinal laiutavalt viinamarjataimelt kobara ja ning ulatas mulle, ise küsides, kas ma olen Portugalist. Sellised märkused teevad mulle alati nalja, kuna esiteks ei usu ma, et ma kuigipalju ühe tumeda portugallase moode välja näeks ja teiseks ei arva ma, et mu portugali keel nii hea oleks, et kellegi ära petaks.
Koju jõudes avasin kohe arvuti, et siis avastada, et mitte midagi ei tööta. Helistasin koopas elavale tüübile ning ütlesin talle, et olen paarikümne minuti pärast seal. Kohal olles avas mees arvuti ja minu suurimaks üllatuseks töötas kõik laitmatult. Sel ajal kui mina seal seisin, suu imestusest ammuli, leidis tüüp, et oleks hea aeg mind veidi mõnitada. “Niisiis, mida sa täna suitsetanud oled?” alustas ta pilkavalt. Ja minu selgitustest hoolimata ei jäänud ta uskuma varianti 'kodus mitte midagi ei töötanud'. Selle asemel hakkas ta mulle selgitama, kuidas arvutit wifi võrku ühendada. “Nii, näed seda ikooni siin, klikid sellele hiire parema klahviga, ühe korra, siis avaneb see aken siin jne.” Sel hetkel läksin ma juba natuke tigedaks. Mismõttes ma maksan 30€ oma arvuti parandamise eest ja selle asemel, et uurida, milline on probleem, otsustab see vanamehenäss mind mõnitada! Sellegipoolest ei hoolinud ta suuremat minu selgitustest, sest selleks hetkeks olin ma ilmselt juba pururumalate tšikkide kategooriasse topitud.
Mis mul ikka üle jäi, pakkisin oma asjad kokku ja tulin tulema. Kodus oli seis muidugi sama, kuid otsustasin, et mulle aitab, selle mehe juurde ma tagasi ei lähe. Rahast olin ma muidugi ilma.
Järgmisel päeval viisin arvuti ühte suvalisse arvutipoodi parandusse. Paljulubav oli juba fakt, et kui üks sealne töötaja mu arvuti lahti tegi, käitus see täpselt samamoodi nagu kodus. Ei mingeid anomaaliad enam. Igatahes jätsin ma oma arvuti sinna ja nad lubasid selle 100€ eest korda teha. Selleks hetkeks olin ma juba piisavalt meeleheitel, et selle summaga silmagipilgutamata nõustuda. Neli päeva hiljem sain ma arvuti kätte ning koju jõudes avastasin, et kuigi nad olid Windowsi ära vahetanud (ja selle käigus mind ka MS Office'st vabastanud) ei kavatsenud mu arvuti end siiski endiselt netti logida. Seega olin ma tund aega peale arvuti kättesaamist taas Computerlandi ukse taga. Minu arvutit parandanud tüüp oli mind nähes üllatunud, end võttis mu kohe jutule. Muidugi tuli välja, et seekord olin ma lihtsalt unustanud ühele nupule vajutada, kuid see tüüp ei tulnud selle pealegi, et mind mõnitama hakata. Seletas hoopis veel paar muud asja ära ja oli niisama väga kena. Computerlandi uksest välja astudes ütlesin ma sellele tüübile, et ma tõesti loodan, et teda enam kunagi ei näe. Ja ma tõesti loodan, et ei näe, ent kui mul veel kunagi mingid arvutijamad ette peaks tulema, tean ma juba, kuhu oma murega pöörduda.
Muide, reedese päeva tegi ilusamaks veel see, et ma sain oma esimese hinde, 8 (meie mõistes 5), ühe Orientalismi koduse töö eest, mille ma olin juba ette ebaõnnestunuks lugenud ning see, et Gali otsustas mind külla kutsuda, et mulle isetehtud pelmeene pakkuda.

I had to spend this week without my laptop and I have to say that at this point my life without it seems almost impossible.
Last Sunday I discovered that my cute white laptop has decided to go crazy. As nothing happens here on Sundays, I couldn't do anything else but to wait for the new week to start. I hoped that maybe my laptop just needed to take a day off, but as I woke up on Monday, I discovered, that it's probably planning to have a longer vacation.
One of my classmates helped me to search for a place to repare my computer and we picked out a guy who said that his service is cheap and fast and if he can't fix it, I don't have to pay. Awesome. I jumped on my bike and was there in 30 minutes. The guy turned out to be a mean looking old man who lived in a house that looked like a cave (also probably because all his walls and ceilings were yellow from the cigarette smoke). His living room was filled with computerparts, but also a spongy looking dog, who was trying to make me pet him. I sat on the couch hoping not to get my clothes dirty and waited. After 15 minutes the oldie told me that everything's working perfectly. Perfect! I paid him 30€ thinking how the hell can he claim on his webpage, that his service was cheap. Nevertheless, my laptop was working again and that was the most important for me. I thanked him and cycled away enjoying the sun that suddenly decided to show itself to Amsterdam. Suddenly I saw a Portuguese flag and decided that a galão would be perfect for celebrating the moment. I walked in the cafe and asked for a coffee from a guy working behind the counter. We talked a bit and then I asked for an arroz doce (ricedessert) with lots of cinnamon as I hadn't had anything to eat until that point. Later, when I asked for the bill, I noticed that the dessert was on the house. I guess I got that “free lunch” because of my amazing Portuguese language skills. By that time my mood was already greay and as I walked out of the café, a Brazilian guy stopped me. He was enjoying the sun and eating some grapes that he was picking from the plant that was growing on the wall. He gave me a bunch of grapes and asked me if I was from Portugal. I always find those questions really entertaining as firstly I don't think that I have too much in common with Portuguese girls and secondly, my Portuguese is not so good that I could fool anyone.
As I got home, I opened my computer to discover that nothing was working. I called the oldie living in the cage to tell him that I will be there in 20 minutes. As I got there, he opened my laptop and to my biggest surprise everything was working perfectly. While I was standing there gobsmacked, he decided that it was a good time to mock me a bit. “So, have you smoked something today?” he asked me derisively. In spite of my explanations he didn't believe me when I told him that nothing worked at home. Instead, he started to explain me how to connect my laptop to the Wireless. “You see that icon here? You have to right click on it, once, and then this window opens etc.” At this moment I got angry. What the hell? I'm paying you 30€ to get my computer fixed and instead of trying to figure out what's the problem this oldie decides to mock me! I guess after this point he just decided not to listen to me any more as I was already categorized as utterly stupid.
There was nothing more left for me to do, so I just packed my stuff together and left. At home my computer still refused to co-operate with me, but I decided that enough was enough and I won't go back to this guy. Even though I felt like I had just been robbed.
The next day I took my laptop to a random computer store to get it fixed. It all started out promising as when they opened my laptop it acted the same way as it did at home. No more anomalies. So, I left it there and they promised to fix it for 100€. At this point I was already desperate enough to agree with the amount without blinking an eye. Four days later my computer was fixed and as I got home I discovered that even though they had changed the Windows (and 'released' me from MS Office in process), my laptop still refused to connect to Wireless. So, an hour after getting back my computer, I was at Computerland again. The guy who fixed my computer seemed to be surprised to see me, but found time for me straight away. Surely it appeared that this time I had just forgotten to press one button, but the guy didn't even try mocking me. He explained me a couple more things instead. As I walked out of the door, I told him that I really hope that we'll never see again. And I really hope we won't, but if I ever have any other computer related issues, I already know where to turn to.
So, Friday was altogether a very nice day that was made even better by a fact that I got my first grade, 8 (so, an A) for a paper in Orientalism that I thought was crappy and that Gali decided to invite me over to eat some home made pelmenis.

Blogi on pisikesel puhkusel, kuna arvuti otsustas otsad anda ja on hetkel paranduses.

My blog in on a short vacation as my computer decided to stop working.

Jalgrattad ja Amsterdam / Biking in Amsterdam

Amsterdamis elades ei saa ratastest üle ega ümber ning seda absoluutselt igas tähenduses. Esiteks muidugi seetõttu, et ratas on Amsterdamis A ja O ning igal endast vähegi lugupidaval Amsterdammeril on ratas. Kuigi ma ei ole just maailma suurim rattafänn (tegelikult küsivad mu siinsed sõbrad minult alati kerge pilkega hääles, et kas ma pole tõesti endiselt rattasõitmisega harjunud, kui kuhugi jalgsi liigun), oli ka minu jaoks esimeseks suureks ja oluliseks ostuks ratas. See tõi Hollandile kohaselt kaasa omajagu probleeme, ent praeguseks on mu väike roostetanud ratas mind juba kaks nädalat ausalt teeninud. Ja ma loodan, et teenib sama ausalt edasi.
Igatahes olen ka mina lõpuks aru saanud, et tegelikult pole see jalgrattasõit nii kole midagi – ei ole nii ohtlik kui ta esialgu tundus ja tänu rattale on mul siiani ühistranspordile kulunud umbes 4€ (kaks käiku IKEAsse). Lisaks veel igale naisele oluline lisaboonus: ilusad jalad. Suurepärane, eksole?
Amsterdamis on jalgratturid kuningad, kes ei pea mitte kellelegi teed andma. Hoopis autojuhid peavad vaatama, et nad oma masinaga ette ei jääks ning jalakäijad peavad muudkui silmad lahti hoidma, et neid alla ei aetaks. Tundub, et terve linna transpordisüsteem on välja ehitatud esmalt jalgrattureile mõeldes ja nii kaua kuni ma sadulas istun, kõlab see minu jaoks suurepäraselt. Rattateed on siin head ja parkimisprobleem üldjuhul puudub. Mõne posti, kuhu külge oma ratas kinnitada, leiab alati. Ma pole küll endiselt kindel, kuidas ma suhtun kombinatsiooni paduvihm ja jalgrattasõit, sest ma absoluutselt keeldun pandakaruna kooli jõudmast, juuksed veest tilkumas. Siinkohal pean ma tunnistama, et ma olen ikka liialt suur esteet, et end iial tõelise Amsterdammerina tunda.
Ratastest ei saa üle ega ümber ka selles mõttes, et kui näiteks laupäeval Heinekeni tehase taga asuvale Albert Cuyp’i turule minna ja parkida oma ratas suhteliselt pingevabalt mingi suvalise seina äärde, siis paar tundi hiljem metsiku toidukotiga tagasi jõudes järgneb suure tõenäosusega avastus, et enne minemasõitmist tuleb oma ratas välja kaevata. Jaa, muidugi räägin ma oma tänasest kogemusest. Kuna mu värske toidu varud olid otsakorral ja ilm oli suurepärane, mõtlesin ma turule minna. Albert Cuyp’i turg on selles mõttes väga lahe, et seal on kõike. Seal on metsikud juur- ja puuviljaletid, seal müüakse kõikvõimalikke mereelukaid ning umbes miljonit sorti teed, juustu, šokolaadi ja lilli. Loomulikult saab sealt soetada ka odavat kosmeetikat, pašmina salle, saapaid ja riideid – ehk siis kõike eluks vajalikku. Igatahes olin ma oma poekoti paksult kartuleid-porgandeid täis ladunud ning raske kott ei ole sugugi abistavaks teguriks, kui sa pead parasjagu mingite egoistide roostetanud jurakaid eest ära tõstma, et üldse enda rattani jõuda. Ajaloo huvides tuleb ilmselt märkida, et missioon sai õnnelikult lõpetatud ja kannatanuid (ei inimesi, rattaid ega juurvilju) ei olnud. Juurviljad said küll veidi hiljem kannatada, kui ma nad koju jõudes ära püreerisin.
Nagu ma juba mainisin, on rattateed siin head, mis muidugi ei tähenda seda, et nad ei kulgeks pidevalt keset autoteed. Esialgu on suhteliselt kummaline rattaga autode vahel ringi kimada (või mis kimada, Amsterdammerite rattahierarhias sõidan mina ilmselt sama kiirusega nagu mõni kohalik vanaema), aga õnneks on autojuhid siin ikka suhteliselt viisakad. Eestis samasugust sõitmist harrastades oleks ma ilmselt juba ammu kümme korda surma saanud. Ja kui teid huvitab, et kas kohalikud ka kiivreid kannavad, siis ei. Ma pole siin oldud kolme nädala jooksul mitte ühtegi kiivriga ratturit näinud. Isegi väikesed lapsed ei kanna siin seda.
Peale autode ja jalgrataste on siin muidugi ka suurel hulgal vespasid ning mingeid masinaid, millele ma ei oskagi nime anda. Tegemist on mingite imetillukeste kastikujuliste masinatega (kujutage ette Smarti, ent palju madalam ja natuke kandilisem), millel on luba jalgrattateedel liikuda. Ma siiani ei saa aru, kuidas sinna inimesed üldse sisse mahuvad: ma peaks end ilmselt kolmeks kokku voltima ja ka sel juhul oleksid põlved vastu rinda ja gaasipedaali vajutamine oleks täiesti võimatu. Igatahes on tegemist masinaga, mille eesmärk mulle suhteliselt ebaselgeks jääb. Peale selle, et sinna on pea võimatu midagi sisse toppida, on see ka neetult aeglane. Passisin täna oma kümme minutit ühe sellise taga, sest asjandus liikus teokiirusel ning suutis terve rattaraja täies laiuses enda alla mahutada.

Amsterdam is all about bikes and every Amsterdammer who has even a bit of self respect, has to have one. Even though I am not the biggest bike fan in the world (my friends usually ask me a bit ironically if I am still resistant to biking when I show up somewhere on foot), it was still one of the first things I bought after arriving here. It did cause me some problems initially (but causing problems already sounds such a Dutch thing!), but now my little rusty bike has served me well for 2 weeks already. And I really hope it will continue to do so. After a bit of resisting I understood that biking isn’t actually that horrible – it’s not as dangerous as it might seem at first and thanks to biking I’ve only spent about 4€ on local transport (two trips to IKEA). You can’t really forget the additional bonus that’s important for every woman: great legs. That sounds good, doesn’t it?
In Amsterdam the bikers are the kings who don’t need to give way to anyone. Actually, the drivers are the ones who have to pay attention not to block the bikers’ way and the pedestrians have to keep their eyes open not to be run over. It seems to me that the whole transport system of the city has been constructed prioritizing the bikers and as long as I’m sitting on the saddle, it sounds awesome. The bicycle paths are good and you don’t need to worry about parking. You’ll always find a post to tie your bike to. Nevertheless, I am still not sure how I like the combination of heavy showers and biking as I am totally refusing to arrive at the university looking like a panda-bear (clue: think about the eyes!) and water dripping from my hair. I guess I just need to admit that I’m too much of an aesthete to ever feel like a real Amsterdammer.
It seems to me that Amsterdammers like markets and if you happen to go to the Albert Cuyp market on a Saturday and park your bike without much hassle to a random wall you’ll probably discover a couple of hours later (equipped by a huge bag of groceries) that before you can even think about leaving, you first need to dig out your bike.
As I was running out of fresh food and the weather was great, I decided to go to the market this morning. I love Albert Cuyp market as they have everything. They have huge counters with fruits and veggies, fish (and other creatures of the sea), tea, cheese, chocolate and flowers. Of course you can also buy cheap cosmetics, pashmina scarves, shoes and clothes – everything you might need. Anyway, my shopping bag was full of potatoes and carrots and a heavy bag is not much of a help if you need to make your way (includes some serious bike lifting as well!) to your bike through a sea of rusty things that some egoists have parked on your way. I have to say that my mission was successful and there were no victims (no people, no bikes, and no veggies). The veggies suffered a bit later though when I chopped them up.
As I mentioned before, the bicycle paths here are good, which of course doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t sometimes run in the middle of the street. At first it’s a bit odd to scoot (or well, in the Amsterdam bike hierarchy I’m probably sharing the same level with some local grandmas) between the cars, but luckily the drivers are quite polite here. If I would drive like that in Estonia, I would have died already about 10 times if not more. And if you’re interested if the locals wear helmets, then no. During those 3 weeks I’ve spent here, I haven’t seen a single person wearing a helmet. Even toddlers don’t wear helmets here.
Besides the cars and bikes there are also many vespas and some weird machines driving around. Those weird machines that I can’t even name look like tiny boxes (a bit like Smarts, but lower and more facetted) that are allowed to drive on the bike paths. I have no idea how the people fit in there the first place as I would have to fold myself in three and even then would have my knees up to my chest and it would be impossible to get to the pedals. Anyway, I cannot figure out what could be the purpose of such things as besides the fact that it’s almost impossible to cram something in there, they’re also damn slow. I had to drive behind one of those things today for 10 minutes and it was horrible! I can swear I saw some snails passing us on the way.