Theo Bruinsma -- San Francisco

ANGELIQUE ONTMOETEN OP HET STATION IN BUNNIK Het was een typisch Nederlandse grijze dag. Geen regen, geen zon. De trein had net het station van Utrecht verlaten, op weg naar Bunnik. Nog maar een paar minuten verwijderd van mijn weerzien met Angelique. De laatste keer dat ik haar zag, was 25 jaar geleden, toen ze mij bezocht in San Francisco. De laatste keer dat ik in Nederland was, bestond de gulden nog en heerste er Nederlandse vrijheid. Nu, zoveel jaren later terugkerend, was de munt in euro’s en de culturele munt in lockdowns, mondkapjes en QR-codes. De Nederlandse soevereiniteit en vrijheid hadden klappen gekregen, maar dit keer van binnenuit.

  It was a typical Dutch gray day—neither rain nor sun graced the sky. The train had just left Utrecht station, bound for Bunnik. I was now only minutes away from seeing Angelique. The last time I had seen her was 25 years ago when she visited me in San Francisco. My previous visit to the Netherlands had been in the era of the Dutch guilder and a sense of Dutch freedom. Now, returning after so many years, the monetary currency was euros, and the cultural currency was lockdowns, face masks, and QR codes. Dutch sovereignty and freedom had taken a beating—this time from within. When the train stopped in Bunnik, my compartment was the farthest from the platform. As I stepped out, I saw a silhouette in the distance waving at me. It was Angelique, dressed entirely in black, her long raincoat resembling a cape and a wide-brimmed black hat atop her head. For a moment, I felt transported to one of those Zorro-esque Sandeman commercials from my childhood in the Netherlands. The scene was mys...