Market phobia

I've lived in Rotterdam for over six months now, and have been made well aware of Blaak market ever since I arrived. I have visited a few times, and cycled past many more, but never did it occur to me that I would actually buy something there. No. Too crowded, too stressful, too unpredictable. I guess that's why people like it. It seems like a romanticized concept to buy groceries at a market. Very quaint, and apparently a money saver. But, in practice, I have never actually managed to pull my purse out and buy something. Not even something as simple as fruit and vegetables. And how ridiculous that sounds.

On Saturday I was taken to the market by a friend, who legitimately goes, and does some of her biweekly food shopping there. She was hardly doing anything spectacular, just picking up some items on her shopping list, but I was amazed by how comfortable she seemed. To me, being jostled by crowds of shoppers and being shouted at in Dutch by stallholders is a nothing but a stressful experience. Maybe, like so many other things, I was looking at it wrong. Maybe I should give it a go?

And I did! Tuesday, after class, I ventured down on my bike to force myself to purchase something. I was nervous at first: spending the best part of a quarter of an hour hesitantly peering into the stalls then hastily moving on to the next. It was quite a process. Eventually, I came out the other side with a broccoli, tomatoes, a bunch of bananas, enough garlic to last a life time, and only requiring one translation into English. €4.30. A pretty sweet deal.

So yes, perhaps I should have done this in August last year. But, in reality, I never do life so straight forward!

On another food related matter, look how awesome my meals have been this week! Was totally inspired to make some healthy, more colourful food. I made some beautiful creations:

And then this happened. Actually, what happened? I was on a high after my success at the market, so began cooking an awesome looking omelet. Cheese, tomatoes, broccoli, peppers, garlic. It was going to be magnificent! The actual result? Not so much. I would like to call it a de-constructed omelet, but in reality, it was just scrambled egg. With a lot of vegetables. What did I do? Was I not supposed to add the milk? I have no idea.

I have since been informed that my egg to milk ratio was all wrong. Gutted.

So, other than food and cooking, what have I actually done with my life this week? Honestly, not a whole lot. I have a lot of assignments due in the next couple of weeks, so I've been stuck in uni, trying to get ahead with them. How dull.

On Thursday I went to an IBCoM announcement event, when all the second years found out where they were going on exchange. It was quite a spectacle: the whole application process transformed into a big dramatised competition. Bizarre. As the wine was being poured, and the room erupted into squeals of excitement, floods of tears and hysterical phone calls home, me and all the other exchange students were stood there like 'all we got was an email'. 

I, for one, was feeling a little out of place. Don't get me wrong, it was a nice event. But I felt like I was intruding on the joy, more than adding to it. So I mingled for a while, ate my free crisps, then made myself scarce.

The remainder of the evening was spent hanging out with some friends, and getting my dinner cooked for me. It was delicious. Cheers Cameron!

Tonight? A house party.