We have 1-2 years left in Germany. I can’t believe how fast our time here has gone. I can’t believe how much my kids have grown. I really can’t believe how much of my bucket list I haven’t seen!
I love travel. I love new places, new sights, new smells, new foods! When I realized my passport expired in July, I also sadly realized we couldn’t go to Slovenia or Norway this summer but we were once again headed to Holland. We were all a little sad. Thankfully, Holland is so awesome that once we were there the sadness just washed away and we revelled in her awesomeness.
We had never been to Texel, and it was only the kids second visit to Amsterdam. Amsterdam is just gorgeous. I am in love with this city. If I had to live in a city, this would be the one. Despite the hustle & bustle, there is a small town feel. And yet, unlike my small town, there is a different culture, a different food, a different smell on every corner.
Out of all my photo’s, this one got the most oooooh’s & aaaaah’s from my friends. So Amsterdam. So quiet, and yet right around the corner is the Anne Frank Huis, and the historic Westerkerk with the best tower to climb & see the city below. I could spend weeks, months, probably years in Amsterdam and still not see or experience everything. One day was definitely not enough.
Thankfully I get to go back next month. Because. When I went to go get my passport renewed, the passport agent took all my papers, my renewal application, our military orders, my certified German papers and my old passport. My biometric passport with my 10 fingerprints, eye print, vial of blood, hair of the dog, and she said:
“Mevrouw? U bestaat niet?” or; “M’am? You don’t exist?”
Panic. Complete question of my existence. Worry over where I could possibly be buried should I die. Anxiety. The bottomline? I have no birth certificate. The Dutch government now requires a birth certificate with passport renewal. I was born at home in the late sixties. Soon after my parents bundled me up, walked to the Gemeentehuis (government house) and careful wrote my name in The Big Book. Done.
Except now, 40+ years later, I don’t exist. I stared at the passport agent with big deer-in-the-headlights eyes. She tried to get my hometown on the phone, login to their database over the internet, but they weren’t on line yet. They weren’t answering the phone. I continued to not exist and I left Amsterdam with no passport in hand.
Yesterday, a week and a half later, she called me. Joy in her voice:
“Mevrouw? Ik heb uw geboorteakte in my hand.” or; “DUDE! YOU EXIST!”
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