Waking up

Wake up! Wake up! the dream insisted,

and I rolled out of bed to open the curtains. Still black outside, still night in effect, I was surprised to see a blanket of white below- SNOW!

This has been a topic for some time in the house. When will it come? What will it be like? Will it come today? Do you know?

Yesterday: snow! snow! was exclaimed... no that is frost, I explained. And a disappointed 'oooh' followed. But, canals were frozen, there was great and immediate concern about the ducks (our patitos) crouching on the edge of boats in the dark and cold canals.

But today- snow! Excitement like children in the first big snowfall of the year, yet this, this was wonder.

I checked my clock to make sure it was an hour I could wake them... 7 am, ok... first door on my right. She was waiting for me with a huge grin and a single word: SNOW! AAAAAHHHHH! She threw her arms around me and danced around, this tiger of a woman from Thailand. We ran to the end of the hall. Mistress- WAKE UP!!

Whhhhaaattt? Groggy eyes and sleepy head, we pushed past her and ran to her window, and she was transformed. All the doors then got our knocking, loud, insistent. Waking daughters and sons of tropical nations to this wonder of the North. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Some sleepily stare out their windows in disbelief. One is waiting for our knock. Yes, yes- I was awake at 2 am, she said, when I noticed all these little bugs flying outside of my window, dancing in the lights! Now they are all on the ground, all downy and white. The snow bugs of the northern climes.

Jackets, coats, scarves, hats, and boots were thrown over pyjamas, we bundled ourselves outside. The first snowballs of life were thrown, designs made in the snow. While bicyclists struggled to stay upright and head off to work, I watched my friends dance through the dark streets, sparkling with this heavenly dust at their feet. We slid, we check our bikes frozen to their poles, we hugged each other in contagious bursts of laughter. Wonder, childlike, insistent, ran through us all as currents.

Returning inside when fingers were frozen, we are waiting for dawn to approach to see what will happen. The white fluff is already disappearing. This is no Utah downpour. But this is special, and this is magic. That on the last days of class before Christmas, snow would grace the home of southern students and lend an air of mysticism to this dark and cold country.

As I write this, the steam of 30 boilers in the row houses across the street are curling over roofs. Cars have melted dark tracks through the streets. Brommers (mopeds) and bicycles are making their way slowly. The grey light of pre-dawn is slowly illuminating the shapes of buildings. In our home on the outskirts of Amsterdam, a group from the 4th floor of student housing is smiling over tea, calling home to their families, wiping snow off their feet. It is 8:20 am and the day has started in glory.