hangs in the Grote Kerk of Dordrecht, the Netherlands. And playing it is eerily like getting high--rather like the Dutch fellow who passed Richard and me in his car smoking a joint, only better and more addictive. By 13u00 I was utterly drunk on the sound of those bells. I can't quite call Dordrecht 'carillon heaven' anymore, because the church and city looked more beautiful at night in March than they did on this overcast October day. But it's still damn close. In December, Boudewijn will have a carillon installed in the tower of the city hall a few blocks away that can be enclosed and played all day at will. Count his travelling carillon, and you probably get more carillons per square kilometer than any other place in the world. Not only that, but without telling me in advance, he had a recording technician do the setup, recording, and mastering for me. Did someone say bad ass? I really, really hope I find a way to study in Dordrecht next year.
My old gripe about Holland remains true... it's too much like the US. But now that I'm living in a country quite different from my homeland, it's nice to be able to hop across the border and feel as if I'm in America. Rotterdam even has frozen coffee. And Chinese takeout. I had to exercise mad chopstick skillz on my dish, because Europeans don't automatically give you plastic silverware (weird word) or chopsticks. And surreptitiously swiped wooden coffee stirrers are surprisingly floppy when you start trying to pick up vegetables with them.
It was surprisingly heart-warming to revisit the places we'd seen during EuroTour 2005. Ironically, those vaguely familiar sights made me feel at home. My standards of familiarity have clearly plummeted (also in terms of social familiarity). I think this could be a good change.
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