In the afternoon I burned up a paper with old dreams and ideas. I took the ashes along in the evening, when I went out to eat with another friend. We headed to the Amstel River with the ashes. The preceding week, I had made these candles out of oranges: you cut the orange in half, remove the parts, you're left with a 'wick' and you fill the thing with olive oil (hence the name BAAB: biologisch afbreekbaar Amstel bootje, sorry non-dutchies). It floats too, it's great. I had done everything in my power to ensure the thing would actually burn. So, down by the riverside we grabbed the orange, and the ashes, and the... well... non-existing... matches. Oops. I had forgotten the matches.
What do you do?? You try and convince your friend you simply have to go back and buy matches. Sadly, no effect. So then you think, 'well who needs fire anyways?!' and you drop the oranges in the water, with ashes but without fire. The mbaab's (mislukte biologisch afbreekbare Amstel bootjes) sound as Swahili as could be, which is good for my nostalgia (and humor!), but maybe not so much for my pride. Although the true Swahili experts out there know these plural baabs would be called mibaab...
As promised, a few pictures