I’m not an experienced blogger and I’m not a beauty blogger, but I am an experienced blog reader. I’ve been reading Dutch beauty blogs for years. In those years I’ve seen good things… and things that frustrate me. Do these things sound familiar?
When I see babies I think they’re super cute. When I think of having my own children I suddenly have to search for air. The thought of having kids is really scary. I babysit all the time and every time again I think: I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know HOW they can take care of a child 24/7! Saying that raising kids is a challenge is an understatement of the same level as saying the universe is small. Is that really what I want my life to be about?
When the Dutch queen – who’s Argentinean – emigrated to the Netherlands, an interviewer asked her to describe the Netherlands. With a cute Spanish accent she answered in Dutch: ‘’the Netherlands is tea with one cookie and big windows without curtains, so that everybody can take a good look inside.’’ In my opinion she hit the nail on the head, but the Dutch weren’t so happy with her answer. That’s not because of the part about transparency and openness of course. Dutch people are known to be stingy. Ask an expat and he’ll confirm. The term ‘’going Dutch’’ wasn’t picked out of thin air you know. But ask a Dutchman if it’s true that Dutch people are stingy and he will most likely say: ‘’No, we’re misunderstood!’’ Are the Dutch really just misunderstood? Let’s have a closer look.
I love Morocco, absolutely love it. I love Moroccans too. I think I made that very clear in this post. They’re warm, fun and lovely. But they also make me want to kill myself. Or them. Am I talking about all Moroccans? Of course not. But it’s a fact that patience is very often required when dealing with the Moroccan crowd. Here are some reasons why dragging along a punch bag may not be such a bad idea.
I had no clue. The signs were right in front of me and I saw them, but my brain didn’t do that 1+1=2 trick it’s supposed to do. I cannot believe how blind I was, but everything has fallen into place now.
I was born in the Netherlands to Moroccan parents. As a child I always spent my summer holidays in Morocco. Every year we would drive 2500 km in a hot minivan crammed with kids, gifts, peanuts and chocolates to see our family in Morocco. They have always been the purpose of our trip and the main reason for our love for Morocco. I am truly blessed to have such a great family. But that’s certainly not the only reason I love Morocco. I cannot live without Morocco! It has my heart, my love and my soul. Maghrib, kan bghik!
The days before my summer holiday in Morocco are usually very happy days. But last summer I had a lot on my mind. On the night of July 23d 2015, the day before leaving (and I have to add: during the emotional days of my period), I felt very sad. I grabbed a notebook and started writing. Never did I expect my tears of sadness to become tears of happiness.