I, hungry, tired, sleep-deprived and not getting to eat anything before another 3 hours [it’s Ramadan] and 6.5km cycling, enter the elevator with nice old Dutch lady. It smells like fries. We have a conversation, in Dutch,  that, in retrospect, must have gone like this:

Lady: It smells like food in here … Are you carrying some food?

me: Yes it does, maybe like, hmm, fries.

Lady [with an expression of discovery (I’m thinking so she can’t tell the smell of fries?)]: Oh, ok. You can really smell stuff in the elevator, sometimes people smoke and the stay smells as well … something about the smoke alarm going off and the smell of smoke being very persistent I think …

I keep on nodding and saying “ja”, we get to her floor and as I prepare to say “gooienavond” [good evening], she says “eet smakelijk!” [enjoy you’r food!] to a bewildered me. I want to stop her and say “No, no, I don’t have any fries hidden in my bag, y’know, it’s my Dutch”, but quickly realize how idiotic that would be.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: