Hiding from Sinterklaas
As I listen to the sounds of happy children laughing and giggling out side as they excitedly await the arrival of Sinterklaas on the 5th of December I am hiding in my house behind a barricaded door with enough tinned food to last me through the night.
It is said that Sinterklaas carries with him a gold book that lists all the names of the good boys and girls and a black book with the names of all the bad boys and girls. According to tradition bad boys and girls get put in a sack by Sinterklaas’s helper Zwarte Piet and dragged back to Spain while being beaten by twigs. Although Spain is a very nice country I don’t particularly like the sound of the travel arrangements.
I am not taking any chances. If Sinterklaas uses a zero tolerance approach to writing his naughty or nice list I am in a lot of trouble. This year I have:
– Browsed the internet during office hours on several occasions
– Crossed the road when the light was red
– Looked suspicious as a jogger (Link)
– Forgot to renew my train pass for two days (Link)
– Been late to work a few times (Link)
– Sneezed with out covering my mouth at least once
This is why I am currently barricaded in my house like the survivor of a zombie holocaust, hoping that I am not about to be dragged off to Spain by a group of midget Al Jolson wannabes.
In keeping with Dutch tradition I have written my own Sinterklaas poem describing my current situation (these are traditionally attached to the wrapping around a present):
They are excited about a treat.
I don’t know if I’ve been good or bad.
I hope Sinterklaas is not very mad.
With a Twig I don’t want to be beat.
That’s why I’m hiding from Zwarte Piet.
Don’t worry Stu, most ‘hulpsinterklaassen’ can be bought of with a glass of jenever ;)
Stu, you forgot something VERY important… Where’s the carrot that’s supposed to be in your shoe which is supposed to be near the central heating [which used to be a fireplace in the olden days…]?
You forgot to feed the horse???? Oh boy, you ARE in trouble… :p
You stand no chance to the almight power of sinterklaas. If you made his bad book, you will be dragged off to spain. But, luckily for you, sinterklaas is a kind, old man and forgets ninety nine % of the things you did. Maybe he’ll just give you no toys this year.
Your ‘bad’ list is far tamer than mine. I wouldn’t be beaten with twigs, more like a whole log. Shout if you need more rations choppered in. :)
Quack of Doom – I don’t know what jenever is… I’m doomed.
Tess – I’m double doomed.
Manictastic – I’m not taking any chances.
Blue – It sounds like you might need some rations of your own.
Stu, there was some black guy with a feather in his hat carrying a sack and a handful of sticks looking for you?
I said you would be home later…..
Stu: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jenever, a real dutch drink ;)
Maybe you can bribe him with a blog post!:P
I wouldn’t worry too much about being beaten by twigs – after all, for the Finns it is part of the purifying sauna ritual and I’m sure it does wonders for the circulation…
I suppose owning up to Sinterklaas is the closest the Dutch Protestants ever come to the confessional :)
As for the space cake, I know the feeling of waking up in what seems like a strange place (for me it usually is in some hotel room in the course of several back-to-back missions in the dead of night when my sleep pattern has been disturbed by the travel), an unnerving disorientation reminiscent of those dream you are jolted awake from because you are plummeting to the ground uncontrollably. I am impressed that you held it together for so long, though. It took me back to my one and only experience of the weed (typically I only indulged as a kind of rite de passage, to be able to say that I had). It was also the only time that I, as a militant non-smoker, attempted to inhale the sickly sweet smoke (I am not sure that I succeeded, but my tongue instantly felt like it had been coated by the kind of unsavoury accumulation at the bottom of a budgie’s cage that hasn’t been cleaned out for a month). As with your companions, much hilarity ensued, but a few hours later I woke up with my heart beating uncontrollably and terrifyingly fast – so my ultra-short dabbling career ended there.
Haha! Stu, don’t worry, with your ‘horrible sins’ you will not be brought to Spain, for sure :-) I’m sure Piet and Sint will be good with you. By the way, were they?
Haha! Poor you! Send us a postcard when you get to Spain, will you? Nah, Sint is sweet and forgives everyone. I can tell you that I’ve been bad this year, and I got presents (and a surpsise and some poems) nonetheless. Besides, by now he’s off home, and you’re still here, aren’t you? Hello? ;)
Tenakalaz – And that is why I am still hiding.
ChickyBabe – It’s so crazy that it might just work.
Chameleon – I’ve only tried it a few times but my first attempt did not go so smoothly.
sophie – No sign of them yet but I’m not taking any chances.
Anneke – No, I’m not here any more :p