THE ROAD TO ARGENTINA AND BACK

64 Vakantie

2009-10-01T06:58:00.001-07:00

Katwijk aan zee.
De zee is van deze tijd.
Het Savoyhotel van voor de oorlog.
Op het strand doen twee honden het met elkaar.
Vakantie!!!

63 Carry and Jolanda: 2 stars on BORE OUT and BURNOUT

2009-09-24T05:44:00.000-07:00

People just like me are not getting ill from burn out but more buy BORE OUT. Life sometimes is so boring, that even talking it make me sick.

Carry and Jolanda wrote the BEST book on stress I know DRUKDRUKDRUK- BUSYBUSYBUSY
Buy it.not for your self bur for your friend.
click here for the book:
http://bit.ly/IlySf

63 last kiss (espressostories 1)

2009-09-17T02:44:00.000-07:00

Zij zegt:'de taxi wacht op je.'
Ik trek haar naar me toe.
Haar geur. De warmte.
My God, waarom scheiden we ook alweer?

This is my first espresso story, an idea by the writers Chris Worthand R.P. Bird It explores a literary form for today's frothed-up, on-the-hoof, want-it-all-now consumer lifestyle: complete stories that take no longer to read than an espresso takes to slurp. The most basic rule is that they're just a sentence or two, totalling 25 words or less. Less hard-and-fast - but equally vital - are a theme, plot, characters, and narrative development. Everything you'd see in any good story - but short enough to fit into the time it takes to reach the bottom of that bitter little cup, as you ponder on how even the briefest experiences can make life more meaningful. It's inspired by Augusto Monterroso's famous story, 'The Dinosaur'.

Kortom, schrijf een verhaal met de lengte van een kop espresso. Hierboven worden slechts 25 woorden toegestaan. In de wedstrijd die Op Ruwe Planken uitschrijft, zijn 60 woorden het maximum. Voor de liefhebber! http://opruweplanken.nl

62 drieduizend jaar Chinese gedichten

2009-09-14T06:39:00.000-07:00

Tonio verraste mij met dit schitterende boek dat uitgegeven is door De Geus, onder de titel ''Chinese stemmen'', isbn 9789044513554.

Wat vind je van dit gedicht? Het is van Li Xijin. Hij of zij schreef het honderd jaar voor Christus, zo'n lekkere 2100 jaar geleden. Het heet Heimwee.

Heimwee

Uitgehuwelijkt door mijn vader,
de verste hoek van de aarde.

Volslagen vreemden, mijn man
een koning van barbaren.

Mijn huis een tent,
muren van vilt.

Vlees en nog eens vlees,
zure kamelenmelk.

Heimwee
die pijn.

Een grote gans te zijn
en terugvliegen.

Slideshow Jan Schouten

2009-05-28T00:17:00.001-07:00

59 a correction and ....MY NEWYEARRESOLUTION

2009-03-18T13:48:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I made a mistake, the hooligan certainly did not adress Marco van Basten this way:
"with all due respect you are a pannenkoek(pancake)." ( SEE 58/57)

The man just said: "Hey, Marco, Thanks!!!Pancake!!!!!!"

And My NewyearResolution At last ( 2009) SIMPLIFY LIFE.

58 new site onland.nu

2009-02-20T03:07:00.000-08:00

There is no news only this: my new site about Onland, my novel. look at

WWW.ONLAND.NU

57 Van Basten has been "pancaked" just like Balkenende.

2009-02-08T02:58:00.000-08:00

Pancake is the english translation of the dutch word "pannenkoek".

The most famous dutch soccer player Marco van Basten recently had the surprise of his life after another bad match of his side. An eloquent hooligan addressed him, only saying this "with all due respect you are a pannenkoek(pancake)." (rightly so, because Marco is a bad trainer)
This is a nice statement you can use safely everywhere:

"with all due respect you are a pannenkoek(pancake)."

Reading about this in my KLM plane back from a trip to Bangkok and Beijing I laughed my head off.
What effect can you expect when adressing someone this way?
Big effect. Someone said it to mr Balkenende, prime minister, and this man was so impressed that hij decided to undo his blockade of the parlementary research into the way he led our country into the treacherous war with Iraq.
Yes our Primeminister has been succesfully pancaked. Van Balkenende justifiably can be called pannenkoek now, the same way like van Basten, that other pannenkoek.

Schouten China Won 2008 “Top 10 Training Organizations”Award

2009-01-15T06:43:00.000-08:00

11th, January 2009, Beijing. Schouten China received an award as one of the top 10 training organizations in 2008 at the “2009 Annual Meeting on China Management Training and Human Resource Planning” event, organized by China Human Resource Union and China Training, leading HR organization and training media in China.

VIPs from top HR organizations and business schools attended the meeting. Among them are director of EMBA center of Business School of Renmin University (one of China’s top universities and business schools), Chairman of Union of China Learning Organisations, CEO of China Training and chairman of China MBA Union etc.

Mr. Chris Qishi Jiang, Chief Executive Officer and Senior Trainer of Schouten China, was awarded as one of the “Top 10 Traners” in 2008 at the event and was invited to give a speech at the meeting on “Change to be more effective”. In his speech Mr. Jiang talked about the importance of soft skills and he described it in his “Formula Toward Success” model on how to achieve success:

Chris’ structured explanation on the importance of soft skills was very well received by the audience. From this model he started to explain the unique soft skills training service of Schouten China. At the end of his speech he invited the audience to do a simple exercise on behavior change and it was received with passionate applause.

The awards were accredited by the executive committee of the event ograniser and the online voting campaign of China Training.

55 the first hours of the last day of 2008. "I got a bad marriage she said"

2008-12-31T07:02:00.000-08:00

On this last day of 2008 I got out of my bed 0900 o'clock. The lake was nearly completely frozen and the surface smooth except on some places where long ridges betrayed the fruitful last attempts of the wind to keep the water flowing. In the middle hundreds of birds motionless in an ice-hole. Where will they go to when King Frost strikes the final blow?
I shave: a 30 second achievement. Wash. Brush teeth. I remember: funeral today of a far far away relative of relatives. But I will also visit my neighbour.
It is 09.20 and I ring the doorbell of this 86 year old lady. I want to wish her a good new year, but not only coffee and sigarettes are the additional reasons for my visit.
She stumbles to her tiny kitchen in the corner. Returns with my first coffee of the day. Offers me a sigarette.
"I drop in to wish you a very good 2009."
"Thank you,' she answers," do you want an other one?'
"I would like, but sorry, I have to go. There is a funeral waiting for me.'
She offers me a second sigarette.
"Near you, close by?"
"No."
I tell her the story of the 60 plus mother who committed suicide by jumping before the wheels of a car. The day after Christmas. The day after the familymeeting where in the memory of all present she played- played? yes played I guess- the caring, sharing, humorous and gentle mother and grandmother.
I won't reveal my neighbours name, I call her M.
"Yesterday it is 17 year ago my husband died,' M says.
Another time she had told me already she had never cried and while observing her I could not
detect any sign of gleaming of her eyes.
"Where you happy with him?' I asked
"I have made many mistakes in my life, she said.
"Lovers?"
"No,"she said, not in the least disturbed by my question."You know I have been calvinistically educated. Submissive. The other always has the priority. My husband was an adopted child and he could never find his biological parents. He suffered. i was the nurse, so to speak. I discovered it after his death: I had a bad marriage."
Silence. No movements. Outside the sky is grey, seemingly frozen.
"But you must also have had happy moments."
M looked up. A smile breaks through. I am not sure if it is happy one or one of those smiles
that reconcile us with a hopeful memory that ended up false.
"I tell you Jan,' M said," after 10 years of marriage my father in law died. I was suffering from a nasty rash, irritating, painful, hardly bearable in the back of that car that drove us to the graveyard.'
She took a sigaret but did not light it.
"And then, Jan, he put his arms around my shoulders and kind of hugged me.'
I waited, there was more to come.
"For the first time,' she said.

After a while I stood up and did what I had to do.

Standing on the threshold of her door- in the freezing cold- she waited untill I had removed the ice from the windows of the car and she stood there waving me goodbye until I had made the far corner to the mainroad.

2008-12-30T14:54:00.001-08:00

54 Last year´s resolution(2008)

2008-12-30T14:51:00.000-08:00

This was my 2008 resolution

The river flows on and and on.
Do you know her destination?
I will swim, crawl like hell.Where to? I do not care. I do not know.

"I do not know."
Delicious motto.
Good resolution.

This I wrote the end of 2oo7.
What did the year 2008 bring me?
A long string of distinct experiences. some of them glorious, such as the litle arms of my granddaughter around my shoulder. The eyes of those I care for.
Some of them sad and cold, reminding me that I am a war child, childlike needing warmth.
Some of them moving me to tears, as that evening when the first day of january 2008 when I was listening to the pavane for a dead princess by Ravel:

The Lake looks young this morning. The small crests on the waves match sweetly with the everindustrious seagulls.

I remember the riddle I once sent to the Acrobat: Do fish drink water?
Is there an answer?
From my PC the deliciuous sound of Ravels pianomusic. When the Princess dies its crying time. When there are no tears anymore only the story remains. A melancholic song always mixed with a streak of hope.

And now december 31, 2008, 00.12 o´clock I have 12 more hours for my Resolutions 2009. Mei wenti, no problem. White lie.

53 Letter to mr Obama

2008-12-27T14:38:00.000-08:00

Dear mr Obama,
You are welcomed by many many people in my world. Some of them exagerate, you know, I am sure of that. They hail you as the new born Christ, the man who cares for people. Sycophants. You have power, but there is a limit to it even when you are president of the United States. But powerfull you are. And maybe you want to fulfill my little wish.

More about my self, one of the 5 billion inhabitants of this earth, a dutchman, comfortably writing you this letter from his warm and safe house at a lake in Holland.

Guess what happened this evening. I just finished my beer, and zapped hrough the channels, very pleased because my favourite club Twente dominated PSV. A draw, but who cares, Twente showed his teeth.
Then.
Then I saw on my luxurous flatscreen the body of that dead child in the arms of his crying father, running for his life in Ghasa.

The modern nuclear powered neighbour started tonight bombing Ghaza again and its president, Olmert, decided they would go on hurting Ghaza. meaning throwing more bombs. Meaning killing more Hamasguys, meaning killing more innocents.He said "we will destroy Hamas". By the by this movement has won the de mocratic elections.

More than 150 dead this weekend. Congratulations, mr Olmert.

I can not forget that dead boy mr Obama, he could have been my grandson.

So my request. Your country is the main sponsor of the Olmert guys. Please. mr Obama, cut them to size.

I feel powerless.

52 .Hello, goodbye.

2008-12-24T06:59:00.000-08:00

Christmas eve. Afternoon in my House at the Lake. Charles Aznavour from the speakers. The lake grey and a bit messy as if it it already fights the cold that according to the Meteo soon will freeze it.
It is wednesday now and I arrived from Beijing last Saturday after a 10 day visit to China. Sweet company to the Beijijng airport and sweet welcome at my arrival. Anne waited for me with a copy of my novel ONLAND. I took it in my hand and it smelled good. Worked 4 plus years on it and now it is there, and I felt like an outsider, like a parent saying hello to a grown up child. The book is no longer mine. Good. Interesting, Vulnerable position.

Of course I visited SchoutenChina. It has deleveloped well. And I had a small holiday in Sanya.
The Mangrove Tree Ressort in Yalong Bay. Riviera without nasty frills.
Christmas on every corner. Huge Reindiers and Christmas trees. Christmas roses and the Christmas Carols from the loudspeakers. They had a 2 hour tape of them and while sipping my capucino's I took the opportunity to practise them all: Last Christmas (Wham), Rudolph the
Red Nosed Reindeer, Driving home for Christmas, Thank God it is Christmas, Jingle Bells. Wasntit boring? No. No problem. Mei wenti. It was funny to practice them in 28 degrees.

Now in Holland, this very moment, Charles Aznavour is luring me into a melancholic mood and though I am strong (no other option) I experience that warm oily feeling of missing something, of a fruitless craving. Time to stand up and make my New Year Resolutions: if you do not move your self you always will be moved. If parting is dying a little it is better to say good bye yourself and leave. Nevertheless I miss "China". I will go back.

51 ONLAND, my new novel

2008-11-29T11:29:00.000-08:00

Marcel is negotiating a multicountry licence on Coactive Coaching, just arrived from Los Angeles. Anne moved ahead to the Board of SchoutenGlobal.

Vera arrived just came back from Neurenberg where she helped starting a new Schouten&Nelissen outfit.

In januari we will meet shareholders of a famous Scandinavian Educational Company that will take a licence on our SOFTSKILLSPROGRAM.
We met the Board of New Motivations, Krakow, a company we are participating in, in order to deepen our cooperation.

Our new International site SchoutenTraining.com went into the air. John Zang prepared a new site: the Chinese version of loopbaan.nl, a great achievement, launched november 23.

In the mean time Schouten&Nelissen and all companies involved is finishing a very succesful 2008 We all are very hopeful looking forward to 2009.

SchoutenChina has found her succesful format, i.e. organization, including 5 fully fledget trainers ( a big asset). One of them, Joanne, will join the managementteam.

Henri just arrived from Hongkong building together with Eva a good framework for our Hongkong company.

In the mean time I also finished my 400 page novel: to be launched january 15 ONLAND
Onland is a dutch word refering to "land never been touched by humans, never
to be found in any map."

The content(translated from the dutch brochure of Van Gennep, my dutch publisher.

ONLAND

Harrie Schot is a eco-consultant who has neglected his own garden. On it,
behind high dikes a sloping oak is rotting. The mayor of his town forces
him to cut it down. As soon the roots of the tree are cut all kind of long forgotten and suppressed questions rise. The oak is the only tangible memory of his father, who died 30 years ago in a bizar way.

Tomorrow the last editing meeting with the editors. Then finished.

Thursday I will visit China again for the first time in 7 months, to enjoy the achievements of Chtis Jiang, the Ceo and his staff.

50. American disease

2008-11-14T04:03:00.000-08:00

American Disease. I guess everybody knows what this means. And how it hurts when you are living in the vast third world countryside of the Unites States.
And though Obama is hailed like a newborn Jesus Christ, one may wonder if he can cure and prevent new outbreaks of this ugly illness, or sickness rather.

If the accumulation of money is your only or dominant passion you are not only personnally in danger but also endangering the lives and happiness of the innocent and less powerful people. Those in Asia for instance, living at an average income of 75 dollars a months. Gentle people, fighting for survival and the education of their children. They deserve a government that
protects them from the crocodiles.

The PRC came with a plan to reform the vast agricultural world of China Inland. Good example.

46 STRESSMANAGEMENT-3

2008-10-19T05:43:00.000-07:00

And after you faced the pain and the world gradually changes from grey into to the sparkling blue and red: I am like a skipper in the silent heart of the hurricane. Storm around, I am aware, but it doesnt touch me, just like the American Disease hardly touches Holland, my country.

If Argentina stands for happiness, is happiness more than the absence of storm and pain?

Last Thursday I sent my the final manuscript of my novel to Van Gennep, the publisher, see next blog.

Together with Gonnie I will pick-up from the airport: Eva and her husband. We will discuss with her the establishment of a SchoutenTraining company in Hongkong. In the mean time
SchoutenBeijing is running well.

Happily enough, you Chinese friends, are able again to receive this Blog.

Off to Schiphol now.

45. She De Stressmanagement 2 Facing the Pain

2008-03-20T04:00:00.000-07:00

I once met a 1000 year old Chinese Woman and at certain moments handpicked only by her self, she descends from her planet to visit me. So she does this night. She is sitting opposite me me, blocking the view of the lake. She is extremely agile and while her increasingly greying hair is waving likes the manes of a fiery litlle lion, she lectures me about "loss":

"Loss is destiny. But God is fair. There is Chinese word for it: SHE DE. SHE means: give it away. DE means : gain something.."

"I don't understand? Whats the use?"

"Only if you can stand giving away you can get things back. So SHE and DE are closely related to each other."

44 Stressmanagement 1 - facing the facts

2008-02-10T14:58:00.000-08:00

stress prevention starts with facing genuine looming doom

I once wrote a book on stressmanagement. A real succes in Holland.
What do I mean by "succes"?
In the past years at least 7 persons took
me apart, each of them with the same message: "It was useful to me."
That is succes to me. I really do not know why the other 33.000
bought the book. I do not care. I care about those 7 persons and of
the sweet memory of that summer long ago, when I wrote the book.

Now my publisher issued an English translation, soon to be followed
by a Chinese one.

Last week I reread the book for the first time after several years. It
was as if I met an old friend.
Here is a paragraph I really like, because it offers the ultimate "technique"
for anyone trying to tune down unwanted stress.

Stressmanagement starts with facing the fact, i.e with facing
genuine looming doom.

" We have no absolute control over the facts. The facts are the facts, even
if means doom. I will die. You will die. The loss of a loved one. The child
that will leave us. The father who dies. The mother who becomes ill. God
leaving us. Hunger. The destruction of the earth. The fact that we are alone
within the confines of our skin.
Is happiness possible in the shadow of this doom? Peace starts by accepting
the fact of real imminent doom. Trying to avoid or fight it, makes the
suffering worse.
There is a chance of hope, of improvement. This starts after the sorrow that
follow inevitably when you are facing doom.
Perhaps hope alone is not enough. Perhaps we ultimately only find peace in
love. An old message that always remains new."

43 ISBW

2008-02-01T15:47:00.000-08:00

Every year many many Chinese leave their cities and return to their homesteads to visit their
family. This year more than 150 million are stuck cause of failing transport. Snow. In many cities the central heating system has broken down. And its cold very cold. How do they survive? They
survive( keeping aside the 100 persons who died).
I wish them all well

In Holland: storm. A huge depression whipping the lake. My House at the Lake shaking. But it is warm inside.
Today I visited ISBW, pearl of our Group, leading knowledge provider, together with Schouten&Nelissen main player on the Dutch educational market.
The Institute has been founded 75 years ago. It grew and survived and is a splendid brand. The
most welknown educational service suppliers in Holland. 4 Years ago ISBW joined our group. At that time ISBW was declining. It had bad owners, I mean not committed owners.
I met the CEO of ISBW, Else Slegers: ambitious, warm, dedicated. I know what she wants with
ISBW: offering the best possible content to participants. Quality driven. Really a passion for
Quality. And she wants to grow. And she will. And she does, I got the firm hands of her colleagues, looked in their eyes. Young, strong, dedicated.
One of them said: "We work like mad to implement our plans, it goes well, I can not wait
till the end of the year to see the results."
ISBW houses in the buildings of the group, not in the most efficient way, and I am glad the
Board supports a relocation that fits this beautiful Institute.

What happened in the past of ISBW is this. Cause of the feverish effort of employees long ago,
it attained the top. An unbeatable Brand, so it looked like. But then the last 10 years the Crew of
ISBW got spoiled. They only needed to pick up the phone(for inbound calls and orders).
But that had a nasty price, you can imagine.
Else and her crew have succesfully changed course. ISBW now is a marketing organization with an educational product and superb quality and service. And it will be more so the coming months and years.

This history of ISBW reinforces the will of the Owners of the Schouten&Nelissen Group. We will
stay independent. We will never sell.
(The Owners: Zuiderwindlelie nv (75%) and the Employee Participation Company (PPM) (25%)
The PPM got the 25% of the shares after a Gift of the family (1992).)

Else and I enjoyed a prolonged lunch. As usual, but nevertheless suprisingly sweet, we not
only exhanged the business items but opened up to each other. Great.
One of her questions: "Jan, tell me, when were you happy?'
Screaming rain is whipping the House. Strange. While the Gods punish my poor House, I
feel content, while remembering the many many happy occasions. Why I so easily forget
them?

42 Schouten China progress

2008-01-28T13:08:00.000-08:00

It is 22.11 o'clock and I am wondering: how do I feel?
Answer: fine, very fine.
But before I enter this subject I want to thank the many many viewers
of this Blog for paying attention. Great.

There are many factors that contribute to the ghusts of energy pouring through
my veins, but one important one is the development in China.
Some highlights:

a. the staff is nearly complete and led by Chris Jiang will ride the waves in 2008 for the
first full budgetary year. The staff counts 12 persons, ranging from the competent Management
team, marketing and sales manager to B2B abd B2C accountmanagers.

b. Ton Voogt conducted the first Assertiveness Training In China, while Tineke Kanters and Colleagues are nearing the end of our first Train the Trainer programm. Succesful.

c. We enlarged our office and the coming weeks the great website Nr2 and brochures(also
second version) will be ready. Marketing and sales programmes are of a quality that easily
surpass Western Standards.

d. From januari 10-20 I visited China and participated in a 2 1/2 day strategic meeting. All staff
present. I am enthousiastic about the energy the team radiates. They know: softskills and
leadershipstraning are and will be in high demand in China the coming 10 and more years, a
weldocumented and proven fact. The team knows: "there is only one factor that can beat this
team and that is the team itself."
I am very patient, it does not help to cry"grow" in order
to help the grass to grow. We from Schouten&Nelissen know that the building of Schouten&Nelissen has a long leadtime. No problem, but I will go on convincing the Chinese
colleagues . That is necessary. because they are very eager.

e. The first B2B projects achieved their objectives. Many proposals are in the process of preparation.

So I feel grateful.
No blockades. We will go on. I will go on

41. ChnLove. My profile. Argentinia-2;

2008-01-16T13:02:00.000-08:00

One year ago, in the aftermath of a wonderful diner in Beijing South, one of the female Chinese
guests brougth up the problem of "profiling".
At first she laughed a lot while putting in her case. Maybe caused by one cup of whine too much. But soon she looked serious. She described hercontinuous failure- according to her- of writing a convincing profile in her Chinese datingsite.
I remember we just finished a gorgeous meal of dumplings, custom made by a dozen
dumplingspecialists. 3 of them preparing the ingredients: assembling, cutting to size.
5 filling them according to order: at our table of 6, we ordered 5 different dumplings: spinach with pork, mushrooms and vegetables, beef, fish and crushed beans, and some order nobody could trace, because Tonio, also present, just pointed a finger at a picture in the menu and did not care to ask about the content.
The dumpling workers laboured orderly behind a glass wall, looking impeccably, dressed in white coats, head and mouth caps- as if they were doctors.
8 sitting at a table.
3 standing and carefully sliding the portions into boiling water. One of them checked the written order with the content and kept a keen eye on the way the colleagues put the ready dumplings according to plan on a plate.
Solemnely he handed the completely fresh food to the waiters.
We were six.
And soon after we finished the meal a sweet exchange started about "where we came from" and " how we live". The Chinese girl I am talking about came from Hebei. 32. A ravishing beauty. But single. Called Fhang.
'Single,' she said,' I am single and I hate it.'
She pointed at her belly.
'I want to marry. The clock is ticking.'
Maybe cause of the afterdinerdip none of the single men present, regarded did an invitation.
Harrie, a huge dutchman, in his late seventies and single:' What you are yepping, you are the most beautiful girl I have seen today.'
A little bit rude, but Fhang showed him her white teeth. Stretched her back,
and doing so not only showed her elegant upperbody but succeeded in the mean time directing
the attention of the crowd on her raven hair.
'It must be my profile. The Chnlove counselors already advised me so.'
Of course she had a beauty operation on het eyes for rmb 3800 , five years ago. And did we know many girls of 20 already went for a body operation.
"Body operation."
She had looked downwards so we didnt need more info. She certainly did not need that
kind of intervention.
'It is the profile. I am sure.'
She is a teacher and she had paid 3 months salary to Chnlove.com but many admirors did not follow up.
She started to explain, but I must admit, she not succeeded in keeping my attention. Dumplings. Beer. Boredom: just look at the site so you know.
Of course I stayed polite, nodded in approval- a kind of behavior I easily adopt when in China.

But at home, in that period Slipperslane, I started to admire her courage, by putting her
fotographs and profile- good or bad- on a site, together with 5000 Chinese sisters, most of them also with ticking clocks. And of course she was dissatisfied. She paid the agency 18000 rmb for a life long contract untill she married. She was already a member for 23 months.
And besides. Moreover. This question came into my mind: how would my profile look like, if I had to advertise it on Chnlove.com? I was curiuous and I wrote it down in that lonely afterparty hour, also to free myself from the develish Acrobat.

This night, cleaning my flat, my new flat pompously called "Eternal happines" I could not fail to find it. It was written on the back of a postcard, showing Mao, but I never send it, cause at that time I'd never seen a postman here in B, and fostered the idea that all communication in China
just went virtual.
Anyway there it was. My profile, consisting mostly of a description of my ideal partner:

Entrepreneuring, writing novels, sailing, tennis.
She is gentle, Chinese, independent but loyal, proud and not too obedient: a partner.
She cares. Fierce and soft. Honest. As I am above 60 and very young at heart she can both follow me and laugh at me, she is free. If she wants a child its ok, I will also look after him or her.
I want to have a feeling of safety and a home. She corrects me and controls me as I am not good at caring myself. I am very loyal. She is not scared to say goodbye to old lovers, the same aplies to me. She accepts i also will spend some time in Holland and if she wants she will join me. Or we can have houses together in China and Holland together. She will feel equal to me. To me she is. Is she wants to work its very alright to me. I personally work like a horse. For a photo and a description of my life see myblog: blog.sina.com.cn/dayangschouten.

Now reading it back I certainly am a bit proud. This profile is reasonable honest. I keep it.

I want to have a feeling of safety and a home."

Illuminating sentence.

It is nearly 6 in the morning and I am reading and rereading it. Safety. Home. Why write it
down as a more than normal specification?
Yes, of course, it reminds me of my Argentinia and the main question that stays waiting for an answer.
I have got time. I got out at 5 and will stay awake. Sky classical. Undisturbed reception. Mozart.
Sitting behind my PC in the study of Eternal Happines.
The first stay in november I fled it: the
cold in my heart, the cold in the house. (I described in a earlier Blog, while complaining about
the unfriendly Policy of The Ministry of Central heatin in Beijing). But now it is really a beautiful
kind and warm home.
In one hour I will be ready to go the SchoutenChina office. Today a couple of new colleagues
will be hired. Then the staff will be ok: appr. 14 people, led by Chris Jiang the CEO. This weekend all of us, the Board and the staff will move to a hotel for a strategic meeting. This
night I will meet Jan Hein and the friends of his Yourzine China.
But..
But why do I stress " home" " safe" "warm" maybe more than other people? I tell you, I do not know if it is the truth, but it seems plausible to me.

I was born in the war. My father was away, hiding and fighting the Germans in the illegal army.
My mother was the only parent. She must have been very brave and very very scared and alone. In the Hague (Voorburg) with two very young childrend, my brother Hans and I. I do not remember much. Have only this very vivid memory. By accident English bombers bombed
down a district called Bezuidenhout, just a view 300 meters or so from our house.
We are standing in the litle hall. My mother is crying. She is praying. 35 years old.
"Mama. why are you crying?'
She hugged us. Could not stop crying. Neither could we.
An incident, but thinking it over she must be very scared, anxious, not only that moment or
during the hunger winter, but all those years. Continuously.

Did I inherit some extra basic anxiety? Can a parent infect a child with her anxiety? And is this
the core of my attraction to Zad Moultaka, the Lebanese Warchild Composer, just like my friend Marcel once suggested?

And how warm or save after the war was the home where I lived? Cold. Unsafe. I wont tell more. I gave the complete story once to Anne and a couple of days ago to another person I trust. No I wont go on. My parents gave me everything: my moments of desperation, my extravagant need for softness, my strong body, my education, my succes. Ach How sweet if I could say that to them. But dead. Alas.

And there is Schouten&Nelissen, Thema, ISBW, ISES, SchoutenChina and my many other
endeveours, all together making us a leading European Institute on personal and organizational development.
How could a softy like me achieve all this and still contribute?
I do not know. Or, to imitate the silly waiter in Faulty Towers: I know nuzzing, I am from
Barzelona.

A couple of weeks ago I t

40 Pavane for a dead Princess

2008-01-07T01:46:00.000-08:00

The Lake looks young this morning. The small crests on the waves match sweetly with the ever
industrious seagulls. I remember the riddle I once sent to the Acrobat.

Do fish drink water?

Is there an answer?

From my PC the deliciuous sound of Ravels pianomusic. When the Princess dies its crying time. When there are no tears anymore only the story remains. A melancholic song always mixed with a streak of hope.

39 resume 2007: great!!!!!

2007-12-30T15:56:00.000-08:00

Its 0.59 now and a few minutes ago I wrote down my New Year Resolution.
I DO NOT KNOW.
Great.
But I forgot the summary of last year. Somewhere in the depth of my PC one could find the New year resolutions of last year. Could, anybody could find them, but alas not me.
Do I remember them?
No, I dont know. But I have a hunch I was not able to reach any of my goals.
I reached other goals. I am a hiker, not a traveller.

38. New year resolution 2008

2007-12-30T15:45:00.000-08:00

The river flows on and and on.

Do you know her destination?

I will swim, crawl like hell.

Where to? I do not care. I do not know.

"I do not know." Delicious motto.

Good resolution

37 Jesus on Ice and Argentina 1: yearning and longing

2007-12-23T02:13:00.000-08:00

One day before Christmas eve. Sunday.
I am completely cooped up in my house. The street along the Lake is glazed by frost. The Lake itself is frozen. But the surface is too thin to escape, especially for this chunky boy. A dense fog envelops the world.
Living in a cocoon.
It is 11.15 now and I witness a miracle. Somebody walking over the water just 20 meters from the place where I overlook the lake. No, not the Holy One- it takes one day anyway before he will be born.
A duck. Slipping and sliding with huge feet. Skating? Its bill is black and the blue green on its wings hits my eyes.
He stands still. Waves its head. Is he greeting me? Or is it a she? Before I know the answer she or he is moving into the mist.
"Good morning mister duck."
I wonder: did it freeze when the Holy One walked over the water? Or must we really consider it a miracle?

And how about the miracle I was looking for when I started my trip to Argentina?
I started off to look for happiness, for Shangri La, for the Promised Land. Did I reach it?

11.23 The sun is coming in. Gives birth to a silver world. Two swans skim over the grey and blueish surface of the frozen Lake. Inside the house the smell of Senseocoffee. The sound of Skyradio and its tear jerking Rosanna. The singer can not get her, so much seems clear.

But what about Argentinia?
I never went to Argentinia. Of course. One day I was listening to a song of an Italian emigrant. He is on his way to the promised land:Argentinia. The ship that will bring him is in mid-ocean. The sky is covered with stars. Overwhelming. And he cries out his hope for a better future and his sadness over the loved ones he left behind. Explosive set of feelings. Root of the Tango.
And just like Slauerhoff I left my home and started living in The House At the Lake.

Slauerhoff the dutch poet and novelist was a " yearning specialist". He left home and not always
lwithout the sweet influende of opium, he went to Shangri La, to China. Writing the most moving poems. All Rosanna-like: about the unreachable key to happiness.

Not long ago a met a young man from Shangri La, China.
"Are you happy?"I asked.
"No. No. I am not happy. I am completely in love with a girl from Chengdu. But not possible. Thousand kilometers between us. I long for her, I yearn for her, every minute of the day."
"But you are married?"
"Yes?"
"Do you love your wife."
"Of course, 2 children. I am happy. But I miss her."
"Who?"
"My girl in Chengdu."

Also helped by a beautiful essay of Camus, by a letter of one of my sons I slowly rediscovered that no Promised land can be the key to my happiness. That the happiness lies in the sensual experiences that can hit you: the colours, the funny daily things. Work and passion. I am a great yearner and I dimmed this habit. There is no person more important than me. Nobody can make me happy. I am the only one. No postponement of happiness. Daily target.
So I am on my own and make it a habit to enjoy it. The Slauerhoffian yearning in the end is a shallow exercise.

I like working. For Schouten&Nelissen in whatever capacity. I deeply enjoy the cooperation with
Anne, Ton, Henri, Marcel, Gonnie, Dineke, Lonneke, Theo, Vera, Chris. and the many persons I am working with. We are always on a creating track. Not dreaming. Practical. Often succesful. I love them. I feel accepted. I enjoy the way they value my contribution. I enjoy my passion.

And I finished my novel. And I will have it published this year.

But what fired my yearning? And what about love? What about living together.
Next time.
I will dig out the answers from under the Christmas tree.

36 Zad Moultaka: peace war and children

2007-12-22T02:42:00.000-08:00

Last year a bloody war between Israel and Libanon.
My friend Zad Moultaka is Lebanese. He is a warchild, struck by the atrocities in Libanon in the
eighties.
He is composer now and we from Schouten&Nelissen invited him 2 years ago to direct his own work for an audience of 1200 at the famous Concerthall DE VERENIGING in Nijmegen Holland.
It was a moving, great concert.
But why did we invite him?
There is and was a lot of discussions over the Islam in Holland. Words words insults hate murder.
Zad has been educated in France as a professional composer and concertpianist and now his compositions are rooted in both cultures: his arab roots and western music tradition. So he tries
building bridges without words, hate and murder. I saw him again last weeks and listened to his
great symponic work at the CONCERTGEBOUW.

After the slaughter a year ago, where many innocent persons and children died, he wrote me this.
...c'est une periode tres difficile ou il faillit chaque jour lutter contre la haine et l' amertume,
lutter contre cette idee".. "l' ennemi c' est l' autre...
Quel autre?
La folie et la violence sont propres aux hommes et la mort se fout de l'identite des infants et des innocents.
Aujourd'hui la machine avide de sang semble rassessie, mais por combien de temps...?

Thinking of Zad, of the cruelties of war..the Anne Franks...the children in Lebanon, the massacres in China in the thirties, the unbelievable atrocities in past and present..I only have one wish:

Happy new year to all the children of the world.

(translation: in this difficult times one has to fight every day hate and bitterniss, fight against the idea" "the ennemy is the other". Which other? Madness and violenc are common to people
and death mocks the identoty of children and inncents...Today the cruel longing for blood seems quiet..but for how long..?)

35 people who care

2007-12-20T14:51:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of nice people mailing me daily and expressing their desire to take care of me. I can not thank them all. I will confine me to those guests who tried to reach out towards me during my last stay in China. Their virtual presence was a great comfort. I do no need their care though, but how could they know? So I will thank them for their useless help, unasked for.
Of course, if you are male you will recognize them, if only by their colorful names.

So thank you, dank U wel lieve/dear Ely Benjamin, Bevon Chandria, Frase Theron, Karen Wilson, Kim Johnson, Fredeic Mogens, Thabatha Jones, Amy Williams, Susan Jones, Noreen Giffer, Dane Suvro, Arty Salah, Antonio Leison, Cleavland Nataranja, Jessey Ligouri, Holly Sasha, Antonio Leison, Maria Zhang, Agamemnon, Ellery Burton, Flynn Dagin, Glenn Dolly, Carol Curt, Dell Janjum, Glenville Jaikuma, Assa Mania, Alley Marcia, Jone Sharad, Alley Marcia, Dett van Katda, Timothy Bautista, Anni Frank, Narcissus Costa, Gwerry Chester, Bourke Jui Fen, Dany Balakin, Cain Bywell, Geno Men-Shen, Abby Gerd, Abdul Lowry, Samantha Ritter, Kendal Sal, Jeffry Helena, Pistel Grant, Clarborn Larinda....

I do not need their help...but they keep coming...please dear reader..if you meet one..shoot her or him.

Today the heavens gave Holland the first snow of the winter. Every tree silverlined.

33 Na Hyo-Kab and his blue faced woman

2007-12-19T15:25:00.000-08:00

See on the left the image of a 1 square meter painting.
Its the real face of the Chinese Woman that hides behind the elegant and pretty pretty manners. I have discovered it in real life. Not only in China but also in the dutch persons I care for.
Fierce. Strong. Vulnerable and yes there are sadness and scars but these never win from her strength.
The past is there. But she is heading for the future. Survivor.
And there is a promise too.
Sweet.
Also dangerous.

Who can tell me more about Na Hyo-Kab? The Japanese painter seems to work most of the time in China.

34. Cultural barbarist

2007-12-19T15:03:00.000-08:00

I must confess:maybe I am a cultural barbarian. By this I mean: old culture does not interest me much. I tried to boost enthousiasm some degree of enthousiasm while visiting the sacred Chinese Temples of Culture, I honestly did. But for instance the Great Palaces do not move me. I try of course but after a short while I observe myzelf being entrapped by the study of the many Chinese Visitors around me. Its people what I am interested in. And I wonder: who are you, where you from, are you happy, what is your struggle in life.
And I ask: how do you bridge the villagelife where you are from and the big city where you live. How do you manage the omnipresent change around you, that huge creative deconstruction of the old environment. How do you reconcile the past with the ever changing presence. How do you cope.
Its this enormous challenge of every Chinese person that interests me.

So I am hunting Chinese painters that express this battle raging in the hearts of my Chinese
brothers and sisters, a rage conceiled by 1000 year old gentle and kind behavior.
I did not find many painters that moved me. But I am in the beginning of my query.

32 Chinese Blog

2007-11-25T15:14:00.000-08:00

The blog is published under: blog.sina.com.cn/dayangschouten

31 heat wave in Beijing. My car key. Chinese blog

2007-11-25T14:25:00.000-08:00

The latest news from Beijing: after the severe cold in every household as a result of the Policy of the Ministry of In-House temperature a new problem seems to arise.

On november 15, I sent congratulation telegrammes to my Beijing acquaintances. On that day the Ministry opened the heating system and ended the coldness( inside= outside=3 degrees C).
One of my readers remarked that now in all those apparments a new problem seems to arise: in many houses now it is uncontrolable hot nowadays!

On november 14 more than 80% of the inhabitants (including me) were sitting in their homes in their double pullovers and winter coats, or sleeping at 2100 in their beds under double blanckets.
November 16 there were sweating in 30+ degrees in tiny T shirts with their noses as close to the open windows as possible.

But the kind person who told me this does not complain. No Chinese will complain. The cold and also the cold in my heart I wont tell you about forced me to return to Holland. And when I tell this to my Beloved Chinese Friends, they smile at me and interrupt me or call me a spoiled dutch brat. And maybe I am. I dont care.

Last evening I had my own personal heatwave in Holland. At the gasstation. I parked my car at The Essostation. Took the key of the car. Filled the tank. Walked 20 meter to the desk and payed. Then I went back, opened the door...but where was the key of my car?
I checked all my pockets, walked back and forth scrutinizing the ground like a hunting dog. No key. Then in the car. No key. Then on my knees to look below the car. No key.
I asked a friend who passed by to also do some detective work...no key.
There I stood, with my unmovible car (automatic gear), unlocked, the gorgeous Italian M. in front of one of the 10 gaspumps.
So in the end I phoned the company in the village nearby that normally removes wrecked cars from the highway to pick up the M.
'Did you look well enough?'
The driver was called Derk Jan.
'Ýes,'I said.
"Do you mind if I look? Thats cheaper than drag that car to my parking place.'
Of course I did not mind.
The very kind man came back with a mining lamp on his forehead and some metal wires. And Yes. Of course I had looked everywhere. But did I look good enough?
The key was hidden in a very lousy spot, nearly not detactable. And he found it.
Silly. Driving along happily I opened the window to cool my warm body. Where are my spare keys? I really wouldnt know.

Why so absent minded? And why bothering about the China cold or heat?
Arent there more important subjects? Yes, there are, or rather: is and that is Argentina. I see myself drifting slowly from its shores. Its time to fetch the oars and start paddling again. But how does Argentina look like? Thats for the next time.

30 riddle

2007-11-10T04:39:00.000-08:00

"I have no duty to others, only to myself"

Who said that?
Mao, when 24.

This according to Jung Chang and Jon Halliday in Mao, The unknown story, 2005.
Of course the gracious Jung Chang is not a friend of Mao and his friends (read her Wild Swans). But this book is well documented, so Mao'statement might be true.

But what does his philosophy mean? Theory without practice is rubbish. So : Did the then 24 odd year old Mao put these words into practice or not? And how?

I will and can not answer this question. But maybe my life would be more easy if I had more Mao in me..and maybe life would have been better for many Chinese if Mao had had more Jan Schouten in his soul.

29 exit slipperslane and a riddle

2007-11-04T00:26:00.000-07:00

The person I rented my appartment from sold it. Wow, after 4 months. Legally she was entitled to do so. Bad contract. She kicked me out with two months rent for cash. But I did not move, until a new place was found. "Was found"..not by me.
"You have to move."
"I won't."
"You have to."
"Yes."
"So?"
"I won't move."

Slipperslane was more to me than just a dwelling. It embodied a lot of hopes.
Now I got a new flat. Good contract. But not my place. So a couple days ago I left China somewhat earlier than expexted. Out of the cold. Like 80 percent of Beijing houses mine also is on city heating. But that collective good starts only to work november 15. So quite democratically temperature inside every home is the same as outside. (6 Celsius). I left for this cold. But also for the shivering that always follows success, when the warm sweat is no longer needed.
SchoutenChina had a good presentation on october 24. My old book on assertiveness translated in Chinese and presented to the Ambassador and by him to alle kinds of Chinese people in the Educational field, had a fair reception. Chris Jiang started as CEO. Structure and Bupla are
in the minds. I now can retreat for the real champions: Tonio, Gonnie, Tineke, the Chinese Colleages. I Can retreat to my usual position: outside.

I was thinking of Beijing: Just offices and places to be offices. If you dont work in one of the cublicles: very boring. Holland is better. Maybe bring China to Holland.

Riddle: who said this (): "

" To be morally good it is not required to act in such a way that it benefits others. Morality does not need a social definition....People like me()want to satisfy fully their own hearts and doing so we follw automatically the highest moral codes. Of course there are people and things things in the world, but they are there only for my use...I have no duty to others...only to my self...."

No it is not Ayn Rand or any other Gurus of US capitalism

I am looking out over the lake. Its warm in my room. The air is clear.I am thinking of Beijing: Sunday, cold sunday. Yes, better to bring China to Holland.

Opera

2007-10-08T15:19:00.000-07:00

The terrace Of Heineke, the most hospitable café in the village boarding the Lake. The day after my birthday. I am on my own, listening to my I Pod. Eyes shut. Sun hits my face. In the blind I can reach my glass of Cola Light. Its 14.25. Yes sometimes I have to look. Is it safe? yes it is safe.
Its Bartoli again. Singing arias, or "songs" my Chinese friends would say. Yes nice Songs. "Who is that girl?" 14 days ago I visited The Commune of the Great Wall, a hotel 60 km to the north of Beijing. Never go there, there reader, dont follow my mistake, unless you are one of those dead US professors they dump in that unhuman prestige hotel.
But the girl behind the counter interested me. Direct. Reserved. With those slight hesitations that trigger my curiosity. There is the hotel music. Good choice. Kathleen Ferrier echoing in the huge hall. I interrupt the ritual of showing mij passport aso, walk into the center of that big, high, hall, ridiculously impressive. And I close my eyes to listen better, all on my own. Listening.Enjoying.
I walk back.
"Beautiful!"
She is polite.
"Yes."
"Kathleen Ferrier, do you know her."
She is wearing a red star on her shirt. It starts to move.
"No."
"No problem."
Gracious me. I must have smiled. She gathered her self.
"I dont know much of those singers. The only one I know.."
"Yes?"
"Tom Cruise."
Yes, I said, he is a great singer.

But that conversation I remember just now, trying to describe my stay at the terrace of Heineke. It was past 1400 then. Sunday. And it maybe the sun melting down the lids of my my memory or the melancholic state I was in, anyhow, suddenly it came into my mind how the little Jan passed his sunday afternoons. His ears glued to the old Philips listening to his favourite sunday program: Het Opera en Belcanto programma van de Belgische Radio. Always on those dead sunday afternoons in that completely town I lived.
There I was, just 5 meters from my unhappy parents, warming my chaotic and despairing heart.
"Please," I screamed," I want to go out. Let me go. I want to go out and conquer the world."
But the screaming stayed inside. And I stayed put. Because 13. Because of the pain imagining the despair of my miserable father and mother, when I would leave.
I opened my eyes. The man besides me smiles at me. He raises his hands towards heaven.
"Delicious."
And yes. "Fantastic" I said.
And that it was. The sun warming my face, a stranger hugging me, Bartoli stroking my heart.

27 Birthday eve/ she de

2007-10-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

00.40 hours . On my own, middle of the night. House at the Lake. Outside some distant lights deepen the blackness of the night. i Tunes gives me Bartoli in her newest set of aria's called Maria. I finished a glass of malt called the Balvenie, present of Gonnie. A bottle of Wasabi peanuts near by. They are strong and keep me awake while I type this Blog.

And I try to review the past year.
I memorize things gained: little pearls deepdown the river of consciousness, almost forgotten, dug into the mud of my history. I feel good. At the same time I look at life with the big eyes of a bewildered child. Its not chaos that surrounds me but a well contoured world that so often is not mine.

And I ponder about what I lost, or in the process of losing or fighting against losing.

I once met a 1000 year old Chinese Woman and at certain moments handpicked only by her self, she descends from her planet to visit me. So she does this night. She is sitting opposite me me, blocking the view of the lake. She is extremely agile and while her increasingly greying hair is waving likes the manes of a fiery litlle lion, she lectures me about "loss":

"Loss is destiny. But God is fair. There is Chinese word for it: SHE DE.
SHE means: give it away. DE means : gain something.."

"I don't understand? Whats the use?"

"Only if you can stand giving away you can get things back. So SHE and DE are closely related to each other."

And off she is. My room is empty as if she never visited me.

Can I stand giving away? Can I stand the pain caused by the misery of others?
Tomorrow is my birthday. What will I gain the coming year?

And how come, that just writing all this down refreshes my hope?

26 Leadership Course: the simplest format, (1)

2007-08-20T12:35:00.000-07:00

Ad Kokke died some 16 months ago. He used to be President of our Board and I miss him,
we alle miss him. At this very moment our leadership courses start in Beijing I think of him and his views on leadership and I mix his views with mine.

Its 21.24 and dark outside, the Lake is like an impressionistic painting. Turner?

Can we lead people?

There is a preliminary question: who is "we"?

But first one must admit that many leadershiptasks in many companies are taken out of the hands of that glorified species called"manager"and/or "leader". People in many organizations are led by many substitutes of leadership, like mechanical devices, procedures, all sublimations of the running belts of olden times.
So far on the relevance of "leadership".

But if this competence is asked for, as it is on many occasions: who is "we"the leaders?
Here I must state this: people can not be led, they only can lead them selves.
So the often heralded leader, so proud of his job, has only one task: to elicit or trigger the
leadershippotentialities in the men he is supposed to lead.

So a leadership course can be simple: define the one condition that seduces the men to grant
the "manager" succes in his triggering task.
That is integrity.
This quality is not to be defined by management but by the clients of management: The Men. The Women. And only them.

Integrity is a bunch of actions displayed by the actor called "manager"in front of the spectators
he depends. They feed the answer to that all important question: Can I trust him or her, Can I depend on him.

Leadershiptraining as directed at changing your habits gets its most direct format by asking your clients (your men) for feedback on this issue. By accepting it. By acting accordingly. And also by accepting that your men and women in this respect lead you, act as your boss.

I remember an old french defintion of "Manager" : traiteur d'un champion...(caretaker of a
champion horse)

And I remember my own definition: de leider is de knecht van zijn zijn mensen. The leader is the servant of his men and women.

I am not an experienced China watcher but I must declare that as far as my observations go, as to this definition I can not see any need for adaptations in my and our approach in China.

But is the hierachical leadership- the bossy boss-style not the most
dominant style in the PRC.
Could be.
But if so, its the style of the past.

25 News from Beijing

2007-08-18T11:29:00.000-07:00

The sun sets over the Lake, littered with all kind of craft, heading to a meeting point I can not
discern. Its 20.34 dutch time and a naval review has been organized this night. The ships will be
all in full light and will pass my window in the first darkness.
I am on my own and thinking of Beijing where everybody important (a few) and non important( 17 million) are sleeping now, most of them I mean. But the city will be be fully lighted I know, till the sun will rise in the morning.
Tankers will start to spray the roads against the dust. Groups of people practising Tai Chi and Yoga in the parks or on the grassy sides of the streets. The majority of the 1.5 milion cars start hitting the traffic jams. Bicycles and carrierbikes. On the pavements the pretty pretty ladies of all ages unfold their parasols. Soon the offices will be filled and inside temperature will rise up to
27 degrees- nearly every office obeys the order that the airco sticks at that point. Not lower! But
27 degrees C always is better than the 35 or so outside.
Or is it raining? And is a thunderstorm passing by, cleaning the air and making mirrors out of the otherwise dusty surface of the tarmac.
Or did it rain yesterday and is the air transparant like glass?
I wonder. I will ask Tonio asap as soon I get him on the phone. Or Dong Yan or Chris Jiang the
freshly engaged CEO of SchoutenChina. The last two last week were our guest in Holland: getting to know Schouten&Nelissen, together refining the businessplan for the coming period, famiiliarize with the Dutch colleagues. Yesterday we waved them goodbye from Schiphol. It
felt and feels like a farewell, even if thats not reality.
But my thougths are with them and shifting my mind to Beijing seems the only way to cope with the nasty feeling associated with separation.

July 15 I left Riversides. 1100 hs. Hot. But I felt good and so I strolled to the tabacconist
called Juan Yan Chao Shi. I like the owner, an elegant 40+ woman, always smiling with gleaming eyes whenever I enter her shop. In moments of solitude I even think she is beautiful. But not today. She seems to hide and does not offer me the gift of her smile. Her face worn. What does
she hide for? Not for me of course (sorry) but what else? What sadness is overwhelming her? Or
did she get ill because of the heat? Or tired of nasty discussions with a husband I never saw?
I paid my cigars and left before I could answer those questions. Maybe I have to learn Chinese
so I can ask her.
Fully loaded with 10 cigars I crosses the road untill I reached the corner of Hong Yan Lu and
Nan Xinyan Zhong Lu. On the pavement there is a small platform surrounding a huge
leaning tree. Shadow.
A small man greeted me.
I said" Hallo, may I sit down?"
He nodded. I sat on the concrete edge.
I lit a cigar.
He offered me a small plastic baby stool.
"Thank you," I said. In Chinese I think.
I offered him a cigar.
"Thank you," he said and I said Buketsji meaning "My pleasure".
He studied at my gorgeous body and smiled. From behind his back he produced a bigger chair.
I set fire into his cigar.
And so we sat along side each other, peacefully smoking, observing the traffic. Taming time
and chasing it into the Corral called the "here-and-now".

Outside on the Lake the parade of boats advances. I am in Beijijng.

24 smoking healthy

2007-08-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

So I stopped smoking cigars, an important step in anybody's life, also in mine, though I must add
that I easily can stop. I did it many times. So from this statemement you rightly may infer I started smoking one time less than the many times I stopped: up to this moment I mean. Not easy to understand?
"Think! " ,my Chinese Colleague would say.
"Its easy!" She would add.
And she is right because she gave me a more difficult riddle, far more difficult: she went to the dentist for cleaning her teeth. She has all her teeth. In good condition. She had the company of two friends and the condition of their teeth was very bad, they even missed some! Question: After the treatment the dentist ordered my Colleague to pay far more for his job than the two friends had to pay. Why?

But about my smoking: stopping feels as bad as just going on. But I will prevail this time.
The house of the Lake is full of halffull cigarboxes. When I see them I immediately hear that
loud cry from the virginal brown monsters:.
"I am delicious, please smoke me!"
"No,"I say.
Good, isntit?

The last stay In Beijing was succesfull. also in the business sense of the word.
My Colleague made the new picture.
"Why?"
"To prove you really worked here in Beijing."
In the background the lush gardens of ShanShui were I live, when in Beijing.

Faits divers:....the book I wrote on Assertiviness will come out in Chinese Translation and formally handed to the Ambassador of the Netherlands on Beijing on october 24....On the same
date we will have the big opening reception of SchoutenChina....7 days ago SchoutenChina started its campaign dor the first open softskillcourses....We found a candidate for the COO function...He (Chris Jiang) will next week our guest in Holland together with MT member ms
DongYan...We will be present at the big conferences of HRM China and ASTD China in Shanghai and Beijing (september/oktober)....We intensified our investment in the coming years for SchoutenChina...The staff will grow, Dongyan already looking for a new location....We found a
partner for the Chinawide distribution of opencourses....on the move..

In the mean time The Schouten&Nelissen Group is full of life, more than ever. New endeaviors
are in the make.

And Argentina? The Shangri La of the lost souls? Its in the small moments of profound content
that hit me and flare up from under the layers of everyday routine.
...the evening sun goldening the birchleaves..
...the smile of the person presenting me the the Chinese translation of the flute
player
...the naugthy running away of Jonas, my grandson,
...the voice of the persons I love,
...the rain pouring over my body while I worked like a horse to navigate my sailing boat through a thunderstorm....,
...the pureness beaming from a photograph I unexpectedly received
... the very nice crepes susettes I spoiled myself with this evening in Veenhoeve,
that sweet restaurant, in the mean time allowing my self to be moved by the tender way the owner/mother hugged her 16 year old son.

Alone is good, Colour: cobalt blue, red. Loneliness is grey, a haze that hides the horizon. Absent
shoulder. So, when in that gloomy predicament, I pray to all those I love, please keep welcoming
me as a guest in your life.
But my colour is blue.

23 Pork at Mao Jia

2007-07-12T21:42:00.000-07:00

Its 12.44 Beijing time. In my apartment at Riversides, Shan Sui, meaning "water" and "mountain". Weather cool, dont see any sun from my study and I dont care, always better
than the usual 35 or 40 degrees, though I dont care about that either- I just slow down.
On my 9th trip since october 17, I slept well and long- the beneficial effect of a two hours delay.
At the exit I had an unexpexted reception of kind people, one of them the habitual driver. I described him earlier and I keep respecting him for the dedicated way he performs his duties.
During the trip I detected new proof. Every 5 minutes he seems to restart. He straigthens his
back and makes that movement atletes show before the start: he shakes his shoulders, makes
fists (one after the other!) and loosens them. And then on for the next stretch of tarmac- very
quiet yesterday. I imitated him and he recognized his habit. Laughed. Then he complimented me with a loss of weight by admiringly putting a flat hand on my stomach. I am not sure I deserved that gentle gesture.
While typing- always with two fingers, and as fast as they can be- I enjoy the tiniest sigaret
I ever smoked. Its called CAPRI and not much bigger than a matchstick. Menthol. Superslim.
From the USA. I got half a package of the lady R who joined me for a businesslunch with A,
the senior account manager of a firm that may help SchoutenChina by opening her nationwide
distibutionchannel.
This meeting took place in Mao Jia. A had made a reservation in a seperate room, not unusual
in Chinese restaurants.

When you carve a dead pork, you first have to force your way through the tough pigskin. After that you will experience a sudden fastening of the speed of your knive, because it glides through
the thick layer of fat. After that you hit the muscles, the flesh.
This three layerd piece of the pig( skin, fat, flesh) was the lifelong delicatesse the chairman, the founder of the Chinese Republic, kept enjoying until his last days.
And that delicatesse was offered to me, guest of honor, in my chair facing the door. And yes
I really liked it. I ate too much there in MaoJia, the restaurant offering food from Hunan, where
the chairman was born. Simple food, rich food. I read somewhere, he caressed this food, also
to honor the simple village life, when times were harsh and heroic.

Just before I left I finished my novel. Gave it to read to Anne, Monique, Carry and Willem. The
book is not about me, but about a 43 year old character living his rich life deepdown in a dutch
polder untill things happen he no longer can control: old pains he cannot longer hide from, fraud
and the loss of ideals. " How can you attach to people. love them who once will leave you, betray
you." Thats not the story, thats the theme.
I placed the story in a polder, resembling the polder I live in Holland: de Bommelerwaard.
Zaltbommel is the main town. Thinking about my diner at MaoJia it comes to my mind
how poor the people uede to be in that polder. The peasant family very often raised a pig. Their only extravagance. Slaugthered the beast just in time for Christmas. I am talking about 90 years ago, when the social revolution in Holland not yet had taken place. Pig food a delicatesse for those who could afford.
I ate far too much from the chairmans delicatesse.
" Why," the elegant R asked.
I could have said:' Out of solidarity with my grandparents and their parents." But that
would have been a lie.
"It was delicious," I said.
"Think of your health." R riposted.
"Next time," I said.
I knew of course, it would take me 3 days to overcome the beneficial but poundsgaining
effect of the chairmans' delicatesse.
How did he manage, I wonder.

22 Spoiled? My father and his aircooled shipengine

2007-07-11T01:55:00.000-07:00

I only have to open my eyes, focus and a memory pops up. Now, at this very moment, my father
comes into my mind. Its 11.00 in the dutch morning. Just finished my mails. They almost concerned my 9th trip to China. Taxi will arrive 14.30.
Yesterday I could finish all the officematters and yes: there now is a natural pause in the flow of
work, so I can leave quietly.
Goals in China: meet high ranking officials at the Dutch Embassy, hiring the COO for SchoutenChina ( I mean speaking with 6 apllicants) And have lunches diners with new contacts useful for SchoutenChina.
Outside, my window shows a rippled Lake, whipped by an increasing western wind. All the redwhiteblue flags are ratling at their poles. A couple of sailing boats are fighting the white crested waves. Inside Skyradio softens me up with sweet middle of the road music. Behind my
back on the kitchenette The Senseocoffeeapparatus is screaming at me, but though I crave
for the brown watered drug I am firm: first finish this Blog.

When I cleared the table I sit on, I detected the advertisement Bobbiaan printed from Ebay. It
shows a 5 meter boat. White, shallow, easy. But more important: it is powered by an electromotor. I will buy this one, for the long summernights ahead of me. Noiselessly cruising
the Lake over calm waters heading for the setting sun and staring at the magnificent evening
clouds, pink and rosefingered.

Forty or more years ago our family owned a wooden sailing ship and for reasons of safety and
comfort it needed an auxiliary. Normally a Diesel is installed, deepdown under the floor and always watercooled. Of course: cooled by water. "deepdown under the floor"there is not enough
fresh air to do the cooling.
But my stubborn father decided differently. He bought a second hand VW engine- aircooled and he installed the black monster deepdown in the hull.
It was an excellent engine. It roared like a tiger, gave power like an elephant. The propeler
propelled. Our ship easy made 6 knots. All this however for only 13 minutes. Not that we- my
mother, my 3 brothers or 1 sister- cared about the tropical heat building up inside the ship: the
motor did, overheated like a burning furnace. It just stopped, where ever it felt necessary: in the
middle of a river, while landing, it did what it should do without the requiered cooling: it broke
down.
Not my father however.
After 2 or three of those experiencesdhe started thinking. And yes, he invented the first
working aircooled auxiliary shipengine in the world.
How?
Just by installing pipes from the motor to the backend of the ship. Ans when they got hot too
he folded them in layers of abestos (why not, we are all alive still, my father and mother died very old). It took him 2 months hard work.
It worked. Our boat was named"Swarte Hont" , black dog in english, a pirate name, very appropriate, because when on motor our Black Dog resembled a steamingship with all that
hot air pouring out of the tubes.
Of course there were people who thought my father crazy and we as his childen did not always like that kind of attention. He just laughed.
So here I am looking at that picture of that electrically powered boat, I bought within 5 minutes. Yes, I am spoiled. But warming up at the memory of Hein, my father, I immediately
get some comfort. Yes, I think, in some ways I resemble him: I am at least as crazy.

I will call my electrically powered toy with the only suitable name.
Swarte Hont.

21 Perls and Boris and the Acrobat

2007-07-04T15:33:00.000-07:00

The weather is gloomy, I have no other word.
Even the slightly rippled but otherwise calm surface of the Lake cannot seduce me to use an other expression. Grey, tiresome.
Thinking about the state I found myself in most partss of this day I hit upon Frits Perls. He is a may be longforgotten subtop Psychotherapist, long gone, who invented Gestalttherapy.
This branch of therapy, still not mainstream, has a simple theoretical fundament, I will summarize below.
But first I will reveal that while thinking of Frits or Fritz, I dont know, I immediately visualized Boris, the mate who joined me half a year after I founded my Institute- and left 5 years later to start his own practice.
I remember Boris sitting, the way only he could sit, Boeddhalike but
despite his slightly bulging forefront he always kept a very straight back. On the left of his
chair a broken packet of sigarets, on his right side an ashtree and one or two other packs, not yet broken. In his right hand a sigaret and in his very big left fist his lighter, ready to fire.
An excellent trainer, organization developer and therapist just like Fritz. But it was the picture
of Boris sitting in his chair that connected Fritz to him, because in all descriptions of the chainsmoking Perls he also sat there, the same way Boris did his work.
I thought of Perls because one of his maxims that popped up today. It goes this way( I do
it by heart):

I do my thing
You do yours
If we meet each other, it is wonderfull
If not: nothing can be helped.

Such is la condition humain.
The simple lines helped me somehow today. 10 days ago I came back from Beijing. It was
ok, but it took me 8 days to fully land in Holland, until today. I played my role in various
committees and decisionmaking ambiances, according to my environment in an effective way.
But effectiveness and efficiency are different species. I mean, while being effective I lost a
lot of energy to things lost. I had some attacks from the Acrobat, entering my brain with
develish sweetness and it took me many hours and mails etc to scratch her out of the lobes
inside my skull.
Gestalttherapy has a simple paradigm: when you describe a situation, any situation!, you
always express the feelings and pains and trauma's that fill your brain, through indirect means.
So when I described the weather as gloomy grey and tiresome and Fritz would hear me
doing so, he would immediately order me to redescribe and use the word "I" in stead of "the
weather is..."
'Yes, mr Perls: I feel gloomy, tiresome and grey.'
I assure you, I witnessed very heartbreaking and effective therapysessions along this line
of practice, very often followed by relief and catharsis for the person who was in the
centre of the (psychodrama-)session.
Why I am gloomy etc? One reason is the Acrobat lost. But there can be also an other factor
in play. I smoked far and far to much last 20 days. And that does not become me.
But I wonder: why?
I come to Perls again. It is an established fact that this long deceased therapist even at the
age of 80 always was surrounded by the most beautiful female clients. What feelings did
they trigger in in his old but always male heart? And did he maybe smoke to extinguish those
feelings? To put him self in the gloomy desensitized grey state I experienced to day. A state
that resembles a slab of concrete on top of of a pit full of boiling emotions?

All these thoughts brought me after work to write a letter to R. I dont know this good person verywell but she asked me "How about you?" and I expressed how I felt.
And before I entered the House at the Lake I had my bowl of natural salad at Heineke. And in my way home I visited Bobbian and Joyce and had a real sweet talk about how I felt.
"Dont think too much, let things overcome you, dont resist."
"Yes, Joyce."
So I will do give room to chance. Look my feelings right into their face. Stop smoking (again).
I dont like the word ' thing ' in Fritz Perls maxim. "I do my thing." What does "thing"
mean?
But while scolding at this word ("ding"in dutch) I must concede the fact that its time to clarify this question and specify it and apply it to my own life. And I tell you, the first fundamentals (and thats whats all about) are passing not only my frontal lobe but also are filled with the passions mediated by other parts of my brain.
"What do I want to do?'
Is that the right question?
No.
Better is: "to what or whom I am devoting my passion and energy."
Small but significant difference.
But maybe I am already thinking too much.

PS the story Li Xiao the flute player is going to be translated in Chinese and soon will be added
to this Blog

20. Ducks

2007-06-26T05:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I saw 5 ducks swimming by the landing stage of my House at the Lake. One the mother. 4 children. Fun. The mother jumped towards me and kept
looking at me from only one meter. I coould have made Peking Duck out of her but I am such a nice gentle person. I only her sisters after them being killed by others. gentle me. The weather ok and my sailing match went well. Got completely wet in a thunderstorm, but I went on, reaching the finish 10 out of 30.
I got a killing reaction from a dutch guy on my last Blog. I forgot his name but he wrote to me :
"How dare you even thinking about buying a human being. You are a bad person."
Of course I thought. This man is right. I dont care. But honestly I try to improve myself. So I here solemnely declare that in my next visit to Beijing I will
say "no" to anybody offering me one of those delicious ducks.

19 the heat and the pilotcourses

2007-06-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

19. june 24 2211 hs. This afternoon I arrived from Beijing after my 8th visit to this glorious city.
Anne collected me at the airport, looking gorgeous. Had a traditional coffee at the sidebar on the
way to the Parking Lot. In Zaltbommel we had diner at the Verdraagzaamheid, ribeye for me and beef for Anne, to empower herself after the great Lectric party of Yesterday, the party I regret I could not visit. I did my best and also Vera did but I really couldnt redirect my fligth so
I had to stay in Beijing in the night Jan Hein and Sjoerd and hundreds of colleagues of Lectric celibrated the 10th anniversary of Lectric, that daring and good enterprise I co founded 10 years ago. A pity. But thats life...Instead my last nigth in Beijing I had a glorious diner in a
restaurant in the South, having fresh made dumplings- behind the glasswall you could see a dozen hygienical clad girls filling and folding them. After that a long talk outside Starbucks. Sweet.
The last week Beijing was dominated by a deep heat. Happily the Airco in the office could produce an agreable temperature of 27 degrees C. Outside 40 C. In the mornings streets are sprayed with water. Many girls walking with parasols, because they dont want the tan- even using bleaching creme. Through Ad Nederloff I met Rita and she doesnt care about getting a tan. She
introduced me at Yoga, but not the indian one: a blend of tai chi kung fu. So standing before a huge mirror I had to face the factsthat I -though strong- am a very stiff tree, compared with her and her instructorfriend who also could be watched in that same mirrow. Yes it was good, for getting the rest at will and also it was good as a lesson in humility. That graciousness of those women!
The trip was very usefull. Dong Yan and colleagues Xiao, Chelsea, Echo and Shufeng had organized 3 pilotcourses, to test our approach. Completely new to the 2 x 30 and 1x 45 attendants, but highly wanted. by them. Experiential learning of the kind Schouten&Nelissen deliverd, is asked for.Great. Now we can build the courses and bring them to the market: good and at the same time cheap courses associated with the required certificates. And there was a succesful introduction for 28
attendants for our Course Train the Trainer. It was a surprise to experience that attendants
like to be addressed in english, but at the same time we are sure that Chinese trainers are needed. So we train them. The credits for this succes should go to all involved, but especially to
Dong Yan, who "filled"the courses and our trainers Tineke Kanters and Caroline.
To me it was a good trip. I had interviews with candidates for different posts, but no one
suitable. Pity. We decided to make "finding the manager" top priority and that means one in a higher salarysegment. Good.We made a contract with Met Press, the publisher for bringing out in Chinese a selection of books of Thema. Good. But is is my destiny and capability to look ahead and thereare many poroblems to be solved, and they will be solved: finding a top manager, adjusting the marketing plan, highspeed design of courses etc etc. We entered a new phase.

And there is of course California. I asked"what is happiness to you?' to K, a high ranking commercial manager and to C, her Colleague. K: she is is long girl, expressive face. "My family
she said. My husband." Gleaming eyes. But C said: "dont ask that question. When you aware
of that, it certainly is to late-things already are bad." Oh they all do really honor there family. Completely aware of the sacrifices parents made to send the children to school. Parents of 60
experienced the in the west highly applauded Big Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. And Survived. Heroes. As Rita explained: when employing some one, choose the one between 23 and older, because they know what poverty and working mean and from their parents they learned that succes, food, money never is a certainty.

This is what a friend told me. She was going to marry. But 3 months before the fixed date she
discovered that her future husband had a longlasting love relation with another woman. The man had a business with giga cashproblems. And his lover who loved him was rich and helped him out with money. So he went on with that affair. No marriage. Money love killer.

Ad Nederloff told me this and I could check his story by means I wont reveal. "Recently I met a
60 year old friend a gentle man , in need for a a long lasting relationship. A couple of days later I had a meeting with a beautiful 26 year old and explained to her the situation of the friend. I asked her: "would you consider marrying that guy, so much older?"
"Yes, she said, why not. I should of course need some time to get to know him, but
why not'?
And to put a halt to my amazement, Ad confronted me with the researched facts from american studies that arranged marriages last so much longer and are so much more satisfying to both partners. But there is always money involved."

So while writing these lines in my House at the Lake it comes to my mind to write a new Chhinese short story and start it with this line :

Not very long after his sixtieth birthday Peter Nieman decided to buy a Chinese woman and marry her. The words "not very long"need to be specified
of course etc etc

"Remember," I tell my self, "everybody reading these lines will kill you. But before that fatal moment I hope to get the opportunity to utter some last words:......that you never can buy someone nowadays without she buying you....that in Holland- that great merchant country- most marriages are based on this very contract...."
But I dont think my point of view stands a chance. Moreover I first have to finish my novel, some painstaking weeks still...

18 Beijing-Paris rally and Pitt Lindner on happiness

2007-06-10T12:06:00.000-07:00

Its Sunday. June 10 21.08 The sun yellow red, more orange than red in a leaden sky. The wind 3 bf from NNE. My window speckled with the many mosquito's that though impressive in their
multitude never are dangerous. They are all born into the deep peaty bottom of the Lake and
suddenly and seemingly from nowhere come up in swarms from the surface to see for first time Light and the same Sun I am now looking at from my House. This afternoon the sailing match was cancelled due to no winds, so I had time to prepare my next trip to Beijing.
Main Goal: hiring further staff.
And with a cup of Senseocoffee in my hand and feeling stiff and tired and content I am wondering: what is Argentina if Argentina is the symbol for happiness.
This morning I observed a young swallow who under the guidance of a parent had her or his first flying lessons. I thought I could see her heart throbbing. A minute of the here and now and I could feel again my heart beat and my warm eyes remembering the first swimming lessons of Marie my daughter: her abundant smile, her upheld head millimeters above the water. Her eagerness to reach theother side of the bassin. Her joy, pride, confidence.
And I realize now my confidence in the whole planning process of today and the feel of being boss of myself. Not disturbed by unnecessary frustrations.
I own nothing, no thing, no person. So I cannot lose anything
But what about love and friendship?
may 26 I had a wholeday trip around Beijing to look for possible other places than Riverside to live.
Boudewijn Heeren and Tony Zhou from Inspiree are the persons who can help a publisher to distribute his books all over China. And in the gentle personal talk we also had, they gave me
a routing, a day later enriched by a nice person I had lunch with, T., a friend of Ad Nederloff.
So I had a tour. While driving me alrong the driver teaches me Chinese. A gentle person, father of an only child. The son nearly finished University. According to Dong Yan the father is an example of the millions and millions of Chinese parents who spend 1/3 of their not too big income to the study of their children. So I visited Long Tan Park in the south. Nancizi and Houhai rep east and north west of the big square And the area of the fragrant hills.
The fragrant hills are in the North East near
the summer Place. Just nature. Boring. The Long tan Park is nice to walk in. It is bordered by
a small villapark in white stucco, but not inspiring. Its a compound. We were not allowed to enter, but the gentle driver gave the good reasons, because in the end one of the watchmen jumped in the backseat and allowed us to visit the neighbourhood. It did not inspire me. There are a lot of those compounds like this one in Beijing, full
of watchmen in semi- military attire. Always saluting and showing you the way, I mean waving their arms in the direction you are already heading for. I once visited a compound especially filled with expats. In the mood I was in, I thought I could see the walls weep.
The other places were full of live. Vendors, small shops, bikes. A lot of tourists also. And also big walls Behind them I guess the big and lush villa's and housing that a person like I like. But impernetratable, if that the right word.
So I am glad I met that nice person that is willing to the place I really look for: a complete
Chinese village in the outskirts of Beijing. Maybe this week.
After 6 hours driving through heavy traffic my Gentle Driver got hungry. I proposed to go to
the Shangri La Hotel to have some food. My friend Bert Kersten was staying there waiting for the start of the Beijing-Paris Rally for classic cars( he himself owns a 1929 Bentley)
My Genle Driver declined the offer. To stupidly expensive he gestured, so we drove around trying to find a normal Chinese restaurant. It took some time because it was 15.00 and due
to the heat most restaurants were closed. But we found one and I had my vegetables.
After that good meal we payed the bill. Costs approximately 2 coffees at the Shangri La.
I was glad to see Bert. We hugged and said goodby to the driver who went with his car to
the backyard to have a nap. Of course I know the outfits like Shangri La, just like you, I guess.
It could be new York or Amsterdam. Huge, a strinquartet, waitresses one shoulder bare, long silk dresses, selected on the same length, smiling. If you forgot the gentle eyes, the genuine kindness, they could easily could stand in for the reception of a up market brothel.
Bert soon would go off for a 16000 km trip through China, Mongolia and Russia up to Paris with not too much comfort along the road (sleeping in small tents) so I granted him the luxury, also because he is always the same gentle man.
He was not the only driver in that Place, there were 130 x 2 of them and not all them passing
by- worn out cocks in a macho role playing act- aroused my sympathy. But Bert attracted the
good people. Not only the actor B who joins him on the 6 week trip. But also an Englisman I
immediately liked for several reasons, but also by the fact he openly and vehemently accused
Blair for High Treason in the Iraq War case. And I joined him fullheartedly with my own target/
the governememt and its coterie in den Haag.
There sat in that carré of sofa´s also a slender guy from Germany, calles Tripp Lidner. I may use his name. He was driving a 100 year old fire brigade car. The Being Paris started 100 years
ago for the first time, so maybe his car.... Anyhow, the man called Tripp just sat there, nipping
his tea, looking at me with clear brown eyes. Kindly provocative.
`So Tripp,´I said. `We were just discussing the subject, can you tell me, what is happiness
to you.
He immediately fired. From his hip.
´My wife,´he said.´
I told him how I felt.
He believed me, he said.
He tossed me his mobile phone.
´Read these two messages. This is she. All the way from my village.´
The first one.
Darling Tripp, I sit in the garden. Alle those flowers. I saw a beautiful dragon fly and immediately thought of you. Love love...
The second one , a minute later.
But darling darling, even without that dragon fly I think of you. Always.

I remember this moment as a sweet present from Tripp to me, the complete stranger to him.

Outside the lake slowly darkening. And I loath the poor philosophy inherent to

the maxim `I f you dont own somebody, you cannot be hurt.`

And hitting the keys of my PC, I cannot say more to certain persons known and yet unkown to me, than this. Please let me be the guest in your life and let me be hurt by you.

But not too much.

17 Whats happiness? Argentine?

2007-06-09T02:07:00.000-07:00

I am back in my House at the lLke. Yes, I know I owe myself a detailed description of my stay in Beijng from may 21 up to june 5 but life is so full of impressions. So I will paint them not day by day but in little fragments, in vignets that I associate with my daily experiences of wherever I am. Thats my life I am a keen observer sometimes, but every photograph I make of a particular part of the world always is associated with the so called non-existent or past.
Last night I had a very good sleep. This fact normally does not deserve headlines, but now, at this particular moment it does. Because I did not sleep that good, neither in Beijijng nor here. In Beijing I often could not get the sleep, most of the times for no good reasons. I could blame the
frogconcerts, or that mosquito. But I know this is not the real reason. Normally Morpheus kills
those intruders. But not that time in B.
I once remarked: happiness is not in the brain, but I of course we are not only governed by the feelingparts of the brain, but also by the Cortex. And I guess this Big Thinker that contains
the hidden code of law that governs and governed my life is in a state of transition at the cost
of exhaustion. And ironically only the finding of the right words enlightens this morbid state.
I am talking of course about inefficiency, i.e the loss of energy, and not of ineffectiveness because my days in Beijing were good and succesful and full of new actions. And beautiful moments. For instance the day we spent on the opening of our office in SOHO Beijing. Soon you are able to view a film on it on this Blog. I met new friends. I saw candidates for the positions in the office. I found a publisher for the books of Thema we want to publish in Chinese.
And I drew the line whereever necessary.
Yesterday I participated in a most boring pokergame, stretching and stretching untill I ended my part by taking a too big risk and losing my treasure in 3 seconds. I didnot care. The
host was that nice woman, daughter of a friend. Other friends too, one of them a estate agent who won twice. No problem: brokers always do.
I took a J Daniels and another one. My host forbade me more drinks because I had to drive home in my new Italian car and she wanted me to arrive safely.
It was 02.oo in the morning and my driving style was that of a staggering horse. Suddenly
an VW Golf hooted.
From an olive coloured face, white teeth . A maroccon guy I guessed. Slowly driving alongside
he opened his window. I did the same.
"Hé, man ,"he said,' Are uou drunk?'
"No, no."
"Then you are tired? I can see it."
"Yes, yes."
"Be carefull. A hundred meters further, the police is on the wait.'
I showed him my biggest smile. Borded him again at a traffic light. He pointed at the M I own now for a couple of days.
"Beautiful car."
Yes, I have to admit. But I said.
"I saved for it all my life."
Unnecessary remark: no trace of jealousy, no need for comfort.
"Yes,'he said,'saving is important. Take care." And off he went, reaching the crossroads far a
head of me.
Love is in the air.

This morning start gray and sticky and I started with a coffee at Heineke. I parked the M in
the back and read the paper. The last time I was here I enjoyed the news of Bokito. I couldnt find a follow up. The room was dominated by a group of sturdy dutchmen dissuccing Dutch Affairs. No word about the Yellow Danger. I didnt amaze me. The rapeflowers so beautiful and threatening are out. The grasses took over. And the Poppy's .
After my second cyo I started to read the instruction on the retrieval system of the car. This instrumnet is controlled by GPS and after someone steals the car, the limousine can be traced on the spot.
Henny the owner, in the sailing game also, shook my hand.
"Whats is that?'
I explained.
He started laughing, pressing my shoulder.
"Thats good,"he said,"now they can find you."
He is that small guy who's face looks closed and tightlipped. You can get scared. Wrong. He is a lamb in a wolfe's skin.
In the supermarket I bought my food. An experiment: Pakzoi. Happily enough a lady wanted to inform me, that I have to cook it, or buirn it in a wok. And I bought three pieces of chicory. And with some help from a newly acquired friend I learned to pack, weigh it my self and put
a pricetab on it. It is known that the last emperor of China could not even blow his own nose. had to learn that in a yearlong reeducation. And he seemed to be happy with that learning process. I can imagine.
I stopped my car along the road and I gathered a poppy, just one. How long ago I had one in my hand> I cant remember. The stem a spindle-leg. Needs waxing. The oily red, little bit lines as if there are veins in the flowerleafs. Inside hidden like a treasure a circle of tender pink and old blue spurs.
The landscape is full of them now. A rich country, Holland.

16 RIVERSIDE BEIJING 22 mei

2007-06-06T04:03:00.000-07:00

16. 09.45 Beijing time. On the upperdeck everybody is in a rush. The plane has come to a standstill and nobody seems to like this state of nonmovement. I decide to wait and occupy myself with a bet: will there be anybody to pick me up? Before I left I made it clear to everybody that I really wished and wanted and demanded to make the trip to my home at
Riversides on my own. So I made a bet: 40% that the gentle persons of the SchoutenChina-office
would give me this chance to prove my independence. 40 % that they would act counterdependend- "following my wish and at the same time not doing so"- and would send the
nice driver waiting for me at the gate.15 % that Don Yang would have sent Dong Xiao, the media
expert at the office and a friend. And 5 % yes, 5% the Acrobat would be there maybe accompanied by an other person. Wishfull thinking? Of course.
In the empty cabine I took the time to fill in the three papers the governement of the Peoples
Republic of China demand me to fill in. So I wrote down my name, my very secret birthdate, the
goal of my visit and stated that I did not import forbidden goods and solemnely declared that
I am a good and healthy person, everything three times, every time confirmed by my signature.
Outside I took the required hurdles and started my waiting exercise in the last queu, proving
during that hour of patience that my condition is top. The official, an elegant girl in uniform and white shirt, pressed the button of the satisfaction box and of course I gave her the highest score
for servicing me the right way. Yes she stamped my passport without delay and she smiled at me. Good.
My luggage came last. So I had the time to look outside, but I did not see anybody familar to me. I felt a bit sad. The other times she always was waiting and it took time at the toilet before
I had myself in the hand again, remembering the fruit of my stay at the House at the Lake the
last months. So full of determination I went through Customs, opened the glasspanel. I lost my bet. Out side they were waiting for me, the Acrobat together woth DongYan.
"Why are you here?"
"I won't tell."
They let me order a cab and let me give the adress to the driver. Ordered me to buy a coke.
And so I did.
The air was full of rain. And because CNN had informed me wrongly I did not have a coat.
The trip itself took 1 1/2 hour because of huge traffic jams. 1 1/2 hour, but in my mind it took
a day. I felt constrained like a horse wanting to jump at that elegantly dressed up girl, in the mean time being held back by the million cords I had wound around my heart. I lived in my head. Glad to end up at my place.
When in Beijing I live in Riversides, in the South not far from Frongron, where the real Chinese people live, the poor ones. I hate the environment expats in the North-West. But Riverside is a posh appartmentcomplex. It is a Canandian
project, consisting of buildings planted in a green environment. There are rivers flowing in between the flats. You can look at www.lvcgroup.com for a good impression. The Clubhouse is
marvellous if you like a dark and brown atmosphere. It shows modern in a 19th century clubstyle. With a library, squashcourts, fitness centres, table tennis hall, in house golfcourse, pool room, swimming pool and a movie theatre, coffeeshop: all for the people living here. But its dark inside. Some burning bulbs but they enlarge the impression of that brown dark. A lot of personell bowing and saying Nihao. I remember that song of Mink (willy) de Ville, stating
I dont need fame or fortune, people kneeling at my knees
But I sing that line they would not understand. Only Chinese they understand. I dont care. They dont care: everybody in thecomplex is of Chinese extraction.
But living there is nice. My appartment 120 m/2 is fresh and clean and I immediately decided
not to go out in the rain and stay for a while. My goals for this trip: 1) meet much new
chinese people,2) meet a chinese boss 3)find a chinese publisher 4) attend the opening 5) buy a
bike 6)look at the start of the Beijing-Paris rally for oldtimers and especially meet my friend Bert Kersten. 7) Work at the ofice and wait for Tonio, Gonnie, Frank and Monique who will arrive later that week 8) working.
My appartment- called "slipperslane"by Tonio because I oblige every guest to put off their shoes- consists of a living room. dominated by a huge televisionscreen. Two bedrooms. a study
two bathrooms and a study.
I drank my first warm water. Why did the Acrobat pick me up at the airport? I know, but it is better, that I repeat that the Acrobat does not really exist. She is the expression of my desire
for a warm and tender friendship. But I know a person to whom the Acrobat really exists. I met
him a few days before I left from Holland": Carnival, one of the characters in my story "Li Xiao, the Flute Player. And soon I will write a second Chinese short story
about that conversation. Thats what I decided. I cleared my luggage. And went to bed for a nice
2 hours nap.

15 KL 897 may 21

2007-05-30T02:23:00.000-07:00

15 Kl 897 Amsterdam- Beijing. This is my seventh trip to B within 200 days and maybe the first time I am satisfied with the dutch or franco dutch company KLM. I generally dont like the service, the horselikes stewardesses: often the bad kind of dutch women: no fun, easily hurt, no humor, shitbags. So I prefer China Southern but though Vera tried and Monique tried: there
was no carrier available. The simple reason is, that I only one day before may 20 decided to
leave for China. I wont complain, though I must tell you I dont like the fact that the semidrunk
Ceo from KLM and the ever sleeping governement of the Netherlands sold the KLM to Air France. They are still drunk there in Paris, from the champaign. Cause they got the very good KLM at a bargain. Personally I dont like the degree of freedom of appointed managers, so easy
seduced to enrich themselves and I dilsike generally the shareholderconcept, that seduces people for the quick grab. I prefer " owners" in the real sense of the word.
This time the stewards didnt bother me with their diners and breakfasts and free drinks. Without trying to convince me to eat that very not nice peace of lamb and highly sterilized
broccoli, drown in a yellow cake of stale cheese, they obediently brought me my water.
"Water please."
"Just water?"
"Yes, just water."
"Ok, water."
"Thank you, yes, water."

Life is simple. I asked for a nice green salad, but there wasnt any. And then a miracle. The head
purser came in.
"I heard you want a salad."
"Yes."
"But there isnt any."
"I am aware of it, Your colleague made it clear to me. Pity."
"Yes, a pity, we cant solve this problem."
"No."
" But may I suggest a different solution?'
Oh my God I thought , the man is going to sell after all the industrialized standard food. But no was wrong. The man explained that he disliked the planefood too and he prepared always
his own green salad. " I will share my salad with you."
Nice. Nice. Yes, I said . I must say he had a fine tast. Salad ofcourse and some prapika's and slices of tomats and no dressing, He was a small guy, with a brown face of the kind marathonrunners show. Elegant. But that was not the only reason I liked him.
And then that encounter with the chino-english stewardess.
" Hello you again! Where are your friends?" My God I thougth this nice person remembers me.
I did too. 162 cm . Slender but not on the pretty pretty side. Gentle round mainland China
face.
"The third time we will meet I take you out dor dinner."
"My pleasure,"she said.

14 In the air to Beijing may 21

2007-05-28T08:54:00.000-07:00

14 I take the habitual caf'e along the conveyor belt. The walking machine seems to be powered by a human voice:" Mind your steps. Mind your steps." The only reason why I hear the
alto is because , when sitting behind a natural salad. I missed her. Its a good sign. I remenber sitting here a couple of flights to China ago, so mad and tired and longing for the acrobat that i soon had to cut loose, that I could not hear anything else but that woman: Mind your steps.
But times have changed and I changed with them. I enjoy a forbidden cigar, feeling strong
within my boundaries. And of course I relish the memory of the first time I sat here: with Ton, Michiel, John Zang, Henk Mees. October 17 th 2006. Michiel , ceo Yourzine was paving the way Yourzine
is a internetmarketing tool, leading in Holland, part of Lectric, the leading internetfirm. They started 11 months ago and now have their YourzineChina operational with 20 people: software
specialists and commercial types. Ceo of YourzineChina is mr Hardy. A friend, a gentleman.
In the process of building our SchoutenChina we owe Hardy and Michiel a lot. And of course also
Jan Hein. Very much. In the pioneerstage of YourzineChina he phoned me from BEIJINH aiport: "Pa, drop everyting and come over. Here is life."That was march 2007. It took more than 7 months
before I persuaded myself to go. But that was oktober 17 2006.
Waiting for my journey to the gate f9 that will lead me to the KL897 I decided to spoil
myself and changed places. I jumped in a feauteuil of The Casinobar, an appetizer of Holland Casino. From the widebody screen CNN is burning. After a 200 persons killed at different
places of war- always with some American support- the smart so called independent CNN
gives the real important news. In the bay of San Francisco there develops a major contingency. Daphne and her babydaughther lost their way. Two whales. But they are swiming now in the righth direction, to the sea , away from the US Coast. There is that voice over: This a happy experience, we all know humpbacks are an endangered species! Then back to Gaza and
Bagdad and the other nice places for an updated bodycount. And Hoppa! there is that smile
again on the cool and seemingly undersexed face of the anchorwoman. Because life is not that
bad and we get immediate proof: a bunch of one armed and one legged children all african
and dancing in their american outfits a sweet litlle dance. There is a board behind them. "The
power of love." Silly americans, silly everybody. The untamed power of love is as poisonous
and killing like an irritated snake. My god I thing, what will happen to me, us, when
the US start loving Holland?

13 the Yellow Danger may 21 2007 to the air

2007-05-26T00:19:00.000-07:00

13 The transfer to Schiphol really was like an oyster. Lying in the back of MB limousine I felt the
soft leather pressing my limbs, cool and gentle, like the aroma of lavendel. 14oo hs. hazy. The only living beings hitting me: the ever expanding yellow flowers that are in the process of invading Holland. Yes, a war is going on in the Netherlands. It really amazes me that CNN does not cover this item. Ik know of course of that famous movie THE BIRDS, based on a shor short story of Daphne du Maurier. How the nice birds surrounding us transform in serial killers. And sure I am aware of the growing multitude of movies about small germs, viruses, are menacing the future of mankind. So I consider the complete negligence of the Yellow Menace a gross error. At first I didnt discern the danger myself. But after the first awareness I couldnt avoid it
anymore. Wherever I looked I saw them: the Yellow Flowers. They amassed along the streets
in the polder, gatecrashing into the nice and neat dutch gardens. They jumped over ditches and
invaded the imaculate grasslands yellowing the green and soon overpowering that colour that rightly is called grassgreen. Wherever you look, you will discover the small yellow pioneers waiting for their chance and yes after a couple of days a lot of friends proved to join them.
So I asked my self: who are they. First I bought a book on wild west european flowers. I studied the reader Digest book, but couldnt find it. Even after i carefully determinated one of those sweet ennemies...long stem...a parapluie of little flowers together forming the total. Then I
started to ask persons to give me an advice: More than 12 one morning, but they couldnt give
a name even if those flowers started hindering them to enter the carport. While driving to Zaltstad, the capital of my life I stopped my car regularly to question people who had a polderlike appearance: a man with a black dog tied to a rope, the lady dumping catalogues in the
village postboxes. Even a policeman. They laughed, they smiled, but they said no. At home
I asked Marga, who is helping us out.
" I know,' she said,' we call this "herk" ?"
" What does herk mean?"
"weeds!"
" My God Marga, there are 1000 kinds of weed!"
" Oh sorry."
At the end of my patience I phoned Bokke N, formerly a community leader and responsible for
maintaining the roads and the grounds around them.
" Its Koolzaad!"
Koolzaad. Anne also new, but now with two witnesses I accpeted the namenow: koolzaad.
Yes, Bokke said, in my days as a community manager I decided to sow them: they look so beautiful in the landscape. I agree but i did not tell him he probably is the auctor of a real big
crisis in The netherlands.
Though fresh and energizing and of the real prime yellow, these nice koolzaadflowers
are taking over Holland. There is a huge conflict within the Government. In a recent crisis
meeting at the Palace, the minster of defence, defended his move to bring into the air severlal squadrons of helicopters and F 16's to destroy the yellow danger. he was supported by the
Agricultural ministry. The Minister of Economical Affairs wants to save the flowers, because they form the basis for bio diesel but is opposed by the Ecological department. the people
there believe that real nature now has come to earth. Drunk a lot of champagne.
But nothing happened and the talks are going on. So the koolzaad survives and brightens my mind while I am driving at te the airport, because the layers and layers of these flowers with
their imperial colours are the only ones in that clayish landscape that move me and freshen my mind. I am off to China for the seventh time. And I feel like it.

12 to China may 21 2007

2007-05-21T04:41:00.000-07:00

Waiting for the taxi. Outside my window a platoon young ducks plowing the lake. Its hazy. 20 degrees C. I estanlished this fact on my way to the chemist. I bought some suncream, because
Beijing according to CNN lives in the heat: 30 or more degrees. Beijing the place I am travelling to. Plane leaves at 17.30. My 6th or seventh trip. I am fully booked with businessdates and also
will travel to Shanghai for two days. This morning eating my daily very naturel salad at the\pub Heineke I had a good chat with TM, president of the board. SNG is on the move and I am. I got
a couple of sweet calls from my sons and other sweet people wishing me a good flight. The water
I am swimming in is warm. The fish is strong and curious. The taxi arrives, so Ill continue later.

11 Argentinia may 15 2007

2007-05-15T11:13:00.000-07:00

I renamed my Blog. of course. Nothing else can make me happy. I am the own auctor. Argentina is the name of this state of self control. Though also the name of a country, I never visited.
Does this Argentina exist and what is her geography? Not easy to answer. Happiness is a passing mood. Furthermore a word that garantuees unhappiness, a shit word as well. So the journey continues.
The last days I am living in my head, more than in the earlier days. Thats because of a large part of my work: the final correction of my novel . Strenuous labor, but I will finish it this weekend. Give the manuscript to Anne, Willem, Carry and Monique to read. Forget it for a month.
I got a strange email from a man who recognizes himself in the person of Carnival, the dutchman who plays a role in the story of Li Xiao.
Some excerpts. "dear sir, I read that story.and I wonder: do you know me? My wife says: Carnival could be you. I agree. Carnival could be me. It should be noted however I disagree where you describe me as small and fat and a lost duck without wings.'
This man, I cant give his name, invited me for lunch to sort things out. I accepted. But this invitation will be consumed after I'm back from Chine. I leave soon for Beijing.
Our firm now definitely is legally founded. Good work.

10 may 12 2007

2007-05-12T12:35:00.000-07:00

The first of June we will celebrate the official pre-opening of our China-Office. I will be present. Fullheartedly. The design of the courses is in full swing. Marketing Programs are in the make. And of course our back-office will be well organized for June 1. A good performance of Dong Yan, senior manager and Sanboa and many others. Among them Gonnie, manager of SnrSchoutenGlobal, Tineke-programmanager, Frank our financial man. And of course of Tonio who will the coming years lead the China endeaviour.
Weather is dutch. I like it. Grey one would say. But gray is a gray word. There are so many shades. But the blosoms are gone. I heard from sources undisclosed the Acrobat left Beijing. She runs her own business now, helping some mainland companies to export to the West. She seemed to have read the story of the fluteplayer. Maybe you remember I borrowed her nickname from that tale. Sources undisclosed revealed that she got a terrible temper after reading the story of that poor girl, destroying half of her interior and demanding I remove the piece. One friend demanded that I destroy the whole blog. He feared the destruction of my image. But other reactions are favourable. Some people ask for a photograph. Dont hurry.
Last thursday I again went to the chemist. The place where I walked from without paying.
I bougth some personal items. The woman behind the counter I already had identified as the owners wife. A huge person, fully dressed up. She reminded me of the sweet persons behind the parfumcounters all over the world. But something strange must have happened in her life. She had a certain age, but age never is important. No, but it looked like she experienced some mishaps in her life. Like she was the victim of several unsuccesful beauty operations. I mean: many curves but seemingly just a bit misplaced. She didnt look happy. She smiled at me, but the movement of her lips didnt reach her heart.
"Here, she said, 23.45 euro."
At the same time I saw her fingers and especially her nails. Huge ones. At least one inch long.
Burgundy red and full of silver specks. Like you sometimes see at bowling balls.
With the biggest of those knives she pointed at me. And I did what I should do. Immediately I grabbed in my trousers to search for money. And I paid. So you see habit change is possible. This is an issue in China. But I garantee: if even Jan Schouten can change its habits, everybody in China can. read our SchoutenChina site.

9. China- may 2 2007

2007-05-02T10:34:00.000-07:00

This morning overlooking the Lake, head eastwards, towards the sun. The water seemed motionless. Suddenly however I was withness to the birth of a small wave, whitecapped, that
slowly started to plow the surface. It looked like a huge fish. Like that whale I once observed outside Bequia. I remember we killed the diesel and sat silently in the cockpit. Until the giant disappeared. So on my chair observing the progess of that wave I killed time. Out of that capsule i really couldnt estimate how long I sat there.
Yesterday was top. I printed my novel, transported it home, 500 pages. Tomorrow i start reading it loud to myself and probably find some tiny approvements. The end of 4 years continous work, 3000 hours. I hope not in vain. I wrote it for myself, me being the first reader.
I lost at least 8 mediumsized pots of Peanutbutter last week. I had that nice conversation with Tineke Kanters, the program manager of Schouten China and of Schouten Global. I enjoyed working for her on the program.
The last 150 days we solved a lot of problems. From november 1 2006 we decided to go for Chinese Company on communication,leadership training and organization development. We are offering servicesd for companies, but also open courses for people who pay themselves. In order to do so we had to rely on our own creativity as we had to redesign the courses we publish in Holland to new forms, methods and content, fit for the chinese market. There are no chinese communicationskills trainers, so we start in june with the Train the Trainer program.
But june 1 2007 we will start in Beijing wth a formal opening.
For our program look at SchoutenChina.com.cn

I was heavily involved in designing together with Tineke a 1 day course for graduates, to help them to enhance the chance of acquiring a job. Fun. Quality.Useful: every year 3.5 million Chinese pass their examination. Only one third get a jon within 6 months.

8.monday april 30 2007

2007-04-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

So I am having a holiday. When its holiday in China and especially at the Chinese New Year millions and millions of Chinese men and women leave the cities to go back to the village they came from. When free for a couple of days I normally go to our house in Spain, together with Anne or enjoy the beautiful garden behind our house in Zaltbommel. And go sailing or to the pub with the friends or playing some tennis. But what is a holiday? Personally I regard this as working in different and mostly somewhat more agreeable circumstances. I always work. I love it. I will continue to do so.
But this year I made the choice of a different kind of work during these socalled free days, so kindly granted to me by my co- workers: the trip to Argentine. In the same way like the Chinese citydwellers reroot in their villages I rerooted in the House on the Lake. Diving into the pit of my soul, so easily concealed below my work as a leader of a company.
Some friends tell me it is dangerous to write my experiences down. They care for me. But there is nothing to worry about. Being a topdog in action always involves the collateral damage of neglecting your self. Only those with some imagination or with executive management experience can understand.
So.
Happiness never is the most relevant objective. I reenergized my powercentre tháts important, so I smilingly can say in mine and your face: happiness is not the issue, its a desirable but always temporarily state. In the same way I refocussed the fair balance between the interests of myself and those of my friends.
How did I do that the last weeks? If you look at the name of our Chinese Company and if you are able to read Chinese, you easily will detect the meaning of the characters. You pronounce them somewhat like Sjoe- tán and if you read the characters you will detect that Sjoe stands for "thinking" and tán for "jumping". It took a lot of research to find the characters and more than 10 hours of demaning ánd interesting ánd funny meetings.
Ok: first you think and analyse and then you bring thougths into life: by action.
Happiness, as I re-discovered earlier is not in the brain and slowly at first and after the first succeful gradually faster, I experience those sensation-in-the-here- and-now that like pearls on a string represent the real true meaning of happiness.
Some examples. Last saturday it happened for the third time that I left a shop without paying.
Not intentionnaly. But I did. I bought a small scissors, a packet of Nicotinell(anti-smoking), some anti-rash-ointment. I felt good. First of all: I did buy them myself, moreover: I decided myself to buy them! And after I gathered those valuable articles I proudly left the shop. Good job, Jan!
Within seconds however someone started to shout from the opening of the door.
"Sir, Sir!"
I turned around. The owner. A smoothly shaved man in a white coat, who lowered his voice at once when we stood eye to eye.
I smiled. He also smiled.
"Sir,' he said,' please: pay. You forgot to pay!"
I did and thats also interesting: before Argentine I usually never had any money or plastic on me. Now I have/ Loosely crammed in the right( or was it left?) trouser pocket.
I explained to him: "thanks for your kindness. A mistake. Sorry. But in normal life there is always somebody else who carries my money and who pays for me."
The man kept smiling but I saw from the expression of his face he regarded me as a oversized man from Mars. And there was a highly botoxed lady behind me in the queu who kindly nodded at me. Invitingly. But I went out.
I realise that by telling this story for some of my readers I maybe place myself in a dangerous position because my reputation might be at stake. But I tell you, I could only laugh at myself.
But the chemist was not the only shop I visited. In a-two-day-schedule I also started to gather my food, an action(tan) always planned well (shoe) .
So I visit the very local supermarket near my House on the Lake. Staggering around along the shelves, getting lost like a blind man, asking those nice pretty shopkeepers "where are the vegetables" and do that again and everytime again until last saturday one of them greeting me as an old friend took the initiative of showing the vegetables to me before I could even ask her.
So I bought the israeli and dutch tomatoes, the garlic I since China learned to eat raw, the mushrooms, sweet and red peppers, the different kinds of salad. Thats my diet. Along with warm water, and the notoirous little foodsacks from Tilly the Highpriest of Weightcontrol.
But whats more new and interesting: I prepared and prepare the food myself. I tell you thats historical! Thats fun. And I perform nicely, with Skyradio in the background, the long avoided rital of washing up. A clean kitchen, for heavens sake: thats a beautiful sight. Especially when you clean up yourself.
While I say this I must admit I just said "yes"to Anne who smilingly offered to prepare some spinach for me.

And I sailed a lot.
And today I finished the last draft of my novel. Also work.

7 Broken eggs 26 april 2007-2

2007-04-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

"How would the aceobat herself react to the story? Did she read it?"
This afternoon I inserted that 2800 word story of Li Xiao in my Blog. Checked e-mail. Interesting messages. The formal registration of SchoutenChina has been confirmed. Within 4 months. The Chinese authorities are not slower than the Dutch ones. Furthermore the first two Chinese persons accepted our offer for a job. The Beijingoffice now formally is staffed now.
I asked Dong Yan, one of the freshly hired managers: How would the Acrobat appreciate the tale of Li Xiao? But she did not reply. probably wanting to protect her friend.
The question stayed stuck in my mind for a while- until the traffic congestion I hit upon on my way to the House, required my attention. In the slow traffic I managed to turn down the bonnet of my cabrio. 28 degrees, sun is blowing. Put on the radio and on high volume I sang along with the first part of Brahms Violin Converto, Radio 4 surprised me with.
So I sang. tried at least and that as loud as possible, clamping my fists and jumping on my seat. Must have been a funny sight. I enjoyed it. felt relief.
On the road near the lake, I remembered sailing with Tonio, in regattas, on our racingboat called Pampus and instantly the nice talk got in my mind we earlier today had together while drinking tea on the terrace of the Tolerance (Verdraagzaamheid).
We nicely relaxed in the shadow of Bavariaparasols and when the time was there, i said to him:
"Tonio, I made a discovery some days ago: Nobody is more important than me, myself."
Tonio looked at me disbevelievingly. Started a story, once told to him by Cathy Li, the proud manager of E-soon/ Vanad in Shanghai. An elegant and competent lady. One of the pearls of modern China.
"You remarked, Tonio, that Chinese people are so gentle, so considerate. And yes they can be. And of course you can find here also bad people. very bad people. On the other hand. there are men and women at the other side of the scale. Take that old villagewoman going every day to the market. There she buys the eggs for her family. While buying egges you have to be careful because if you are not, at home you may find the eggs the vendor sold, are broken. It easily happens. This poor gentle lady knew this of course. And so the pure soul searched every day in the heaps of eggs and selected the already broken ones.
She would say: "I do that because it is so hard on the other people. when they arrive at home and see their eggs are broken. Of course the eggs I buy sometimes already are bad. No problem. I just throw them away."
Tonio looked away. reached behind his chair and produced a packet of flower tea , nicely wrapped. A present from Han, professor at Remnin University, the gentleman who performed for Schouten China the reasearch on training needs of Chinese men and women.
"Thank you, Tonio," I said,"give Han my best wishes. But was there any hidden message in that story you told me a couple of minutes ago?"
He laughed. The terrace was full of people, enjoying the shadow, admiring the lazily flowing river. I laughed too. We both together laughed our head of, not caring( bad bad) for the sleepy eyed people around who suddenly seemed fully awake.
Of course I knew Tonio's anwer far before he needed to give it to me. "Jan, silly billy, you overplayed your hand. You bougth too many broken eggs. Will you continue?"
"No,"i said to myself.

And now , at home in my House on the Lake, watching the gray and bumpy water- and the yellowy-red billiance of the sun drowning in the haze at the horizon I realized I had an other topic that I easily could have fed into my converstation with Tonio- a statement crystallized after many Argentine days.
That every creature needs to be its own powercentre, its own fountain of energy that gives birth to projects that in theirselves give the sufficient satisfaction- the necessary oath the litlle horse called Dayang easily can trot on. And that how much you long for caresses, skin, care and tenderness- this explosive ensemble called love must be nothing more and less than a desirable but additional asset.
Rewording this statement on the couch of my small living room I felt extremely well. Like a couple of days ago when I for the first time and so clarly could formulate my point of view, so clumsily hidden below the mud of tough work and bad "eggbuying habits".
Some questions came up. What did I do the last 20 years, the last years especially? What do I learn from it? Ans what has all this to do with a Blog?
Jennifer mailed me the last question.
"Is it a blog? It reads like a novel? But when I read one, I easily can turn on the last page. Does this have an end?"
This is the story of a journey. I jumped in at media res. It has a beginning of course- a backstory I will fill in later. Probably I make an other Chinese story out of it, dont know yet. But does it have an end? Sure it will have an end. If stories ever end.
But first I will describe my report on the very dangerous invasion that floods Holland. Because I promised. Because my research brought me closer to Argentinia.

6. Li Xiao the flute player- april 26 2007

2007-04-26T07:40:00.000-07:00

Hunting for Argentine, I started to find it close to My House on the Lake. I will tell about that later, about the important discovery I made : a secret invasion that threatens to devastate Holland- or at least the core of this country: the domination of 500 years of Calvinistic doctrine. It is a very serious subject. And I need some more time for it.

I finished my first first Chinese story: Li Xiao the fluteplayer. Finished? Not really. It is a draft.
And is it really a short short story? 2800 words seems too long for this genre.
But I tried to keep the Chinese storytelling tradition high. First of all: the Chinese shortshort stories are not really stories in a technical sense. They are more histories. Often moralistic, chronological.
They describe heroes of old time and the life of people in the ever changing Chinese society. They can be funny. Full of love stories: about the bursting hearts full of longing, about the dreadeness of married life. In rereading my story, it reminded me of the sober style of de Maupassant and Somerset Maugham.

But let me end this technical discours. The main reason I wrote about Li Xiao is to give a farewell to the Acrobat. Didnt see or hear anything of importance last weeks. Dong Yan, the manager of SchoutenChina and a close friend of the Acrobat, mailed me that the Acrobat left town.

5 Words...Images..a long one; april 19 2007

2007-04-20T01:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday. Had a couple of cold days, always sunny though. The wind changed from the north to the west, driving white caps on the crest of the waves.
1830 hours.
While writing I occupy one of the cornerseats of "Veenhoeve". "Brown café, "gezellig", good kitchen too.
Behind the bar a huge picture of the American Moviestar I most like, Kathleen Hepburn. Died a couple of years ago. Fierce, independent, weird. Tender too- if she wanted to be. The picture of the happy recipient of her affection, that of anonther star, Bogart(?) is hanging on the other side. From the corner of her eyes she just can see him. She nurtured him the last 28 years of his life. Til his death. It took almost 30 years before she did.
Kathleen had a husband, called Duffy. Kept seeing him afterwards on a regular basis. All her life. But she loved another person.
In one of her books she wrote: "Poor Duffy, he had every reason to be angry with me. But what could I do. I had to follow the music of my soul."
"The music of my soul"is one theme in the novel I am working on. Spent a lot of hours on it the last several days. Fine tuning. After I finish I go to a publisher. Working longer on it will make the story stale like an old piece of bread.
"And how you yourself, Jan. How is the music of your soul?'
"Fine."My usual answer the last days. Rightly so. But looking in the fine green eyes of Anne
I gave her the words of which""fine"is a bleak, though correct, summary.

If this visit to Argentine is a holiday, its the holiday I like. Not cut off, but temporarily living alone in a world I- apart from Bobbian and his wife- don't know anybody. A lot of strangers talking to me, when I wander around my House on the Lake. And even if I think I understand them, I know I actually don't, because words stay friendly and multiinterpretable superficialities, unless you get at the source. And I dont want it. I have already plenty sources that fill my brain.
But words are necessary.
Take the word "blossom".
Everywehere I live, the world is full of blosom. But I miss the words to specify. What blosoms of what trees and please how do you describe the colours? Beautiful? Rose? Or green? But what kind of green? How to describe the 100 different shades of green of spring that surround me.
So I gave myself the assignment to refresh my vocabulary I need to observe better and enjoy more.
The soup the owner offered me as an appetizer was very tasty. Not spicy, so I stick to the taste of the clear bouillon. Beef. Clear. Not stickey. A tiny bit salty. But predominantly soft and sweet. The main course consisted of a small heap of fieldsalad, heaped in the middle of a rectangular plate. Around this little green haystack five little cups were placed, small like the ones in a Chinese teaceremony, each filled with a different ingredient: salt, oil, piece of onion, soja, palmpits. The taste of this delicatesse lingers on not deafened by the cigar i just between my lips.
The owner picked up the empty plate and cutlery. She is an atletic not yet middleaged woman, compact, slightly rounded shoulders. Clerar brown eyes, a lot of friendliness around her lips. Practical, not businesslike.
She smiled.
"You are not writing about me, arent you?"
I pointed at the picture.
"Just about Kathleen," I said.
She smiled again. Nice teeth.
I smiled back. Liar me.

After my inspection tour of the geography of her house I took some time to spend some time on my face. The light from the plafonniers was not cruel, so I only had one option and that is to admit that I looked well. Eyes clear. Skin browning. By taking this all in I had the sudden rembrance of the Acrobat using Nivea Bleaching Cream, as manay young Chinese Women do. Bad. But trhese toughts stayed only an couple of seconds. Because looking at the top of my head
I had to congratulate myself with the fresh haircut, I bought yesterday. Men are not vain, they say.

4 Argentinia! 17 april 2007

2007-04-17T02:46:00.000-07:00

Last week and step by step I crossed the borders of Argentinia. And I enjoy the usual speed by which I always regain my natural powers, my calmness and my broad vision on life, work and the ever changing world. The energyreservoirs are filling day by day. And my common meditative mood spreads its wings.
I am on holiday of course, my type of holiday, full of mental action, though not too heavily workrelated yet. It belongs to me that when the rocks are rolling and the teams I am engaged with are on their own move, I retract for a while to replenish my vitality. So thats why I am in the House on the Lake. And just like other times I need and needed the first days to deal with the residue pains that linger under my tiredness.
Normally, like everybody else, in my everyday life I easily deal with the moments of pain and grief and frustration. I am a positive man. But at the way I live- at full speed, happily and heavily engaged- every day some poisonous drups of pain secretely stay behind and start to fill the bucket, freeze and cristallize to lumps of ice.
I know myself and I know the two main lumps of ice that gradually more every day unconsciously- but not always that- start piercing my heart and distract me from my usual strength, my calmness, my visionnary outlook on myself and the world: Coldness and the Syrenes, meaning the attractions, the ideas, the encounters- highly valuable, but at the price of losing My Self- If am not careful- and I am.
Princess and Acrobat are not real living persons. They are just projections of my need for warmth and my longing to be touched by new experiences. I gave Princess and Acrobat a voice, to keep the more easily in sight.
And I won them for me, not by fighting them, but looking them in the face, so long that the sadness and the anger exchanged for just the stabs of pain. It took some time, it always does, but in that peaceful confrontation the feelings connected backed off slowly, definitely till I could get on the landing stage for my House, feeling how the sun took possession of me, warmed me and how I felt one with the silvery ripples on the Lake. And as for the Acrobat: I sublimized this glorious experience by writing a short short story, that I will soon make public on this log. Its called Li Xiao the fluteplayer.
And of course I slept, good and long. And did the small things: buying those tomatoes(first class from israel), three pies of chocory, icebergsalads. Started to cook my own simple meals supplement by the healtsome sackets delivered by The Highpriest of Weightcontrol.
Thinking about the things Camus told me the first night in the House, I must happily conclude: I am losing my head.
I phoned Tonio. For the four jobs in Beijijng Office he got 2000 apllicants. Management Team. a leading dutch Management magazine just published a very very good intervieuw with Anne on the work of the Schouten&Nelissen Group. Beautiful picture too.
Slowly enter into my brain the first ideas related to the further improvement of Schouten&Nelissen Group and the next steps in China. But I put an halt to it for the moment.

3. April 11 2007

2007-04-13T02:33:00.000-07:00

Wesnesday 1830 I arrived at my House On the Lake. While I crawled out of the Saab, fully loaded with suitcases, sacks of food, sporting gear, Bobbian the ownerI rent the cabin from opened the door. He was not looking that good. His sweaty T shirt hardly could contain his belly. Unshaven. He is a blocked guy, outdoor man, working as an engineer in the Offshore Industry. 14 days off and on and now in the last days before he is choptered again to his platform in the North Sea he worked like hell to fix the House.
He said :"Hallo." I said: "Hi Bob, here is me." Silly and childish remark. And so I felt.
Joyce his friend for ever, fullblooded, blond, direct, joined him.
"Hallo, Jan. " And in the sitting room after lighting her third sigaret in 30 minutes: "While I saw your car and you stepping out. I felt the tears burning in my eyes." And also: "I know what
it means, I already lived through it. " Her divorce took 5 years and though happy with Bobbian it is still haunting her.
The House is named Cockpit ( Kajuit). One big room, overlooking the lake. 4 rooms upstairs. A
kitchen. Full view from the kitchen table.
Today I left the Princess too live here on my own.
I felt strange, all my feelings at a distance. I left. Anne resembles the Princess, her old and not always comfortable friend. But she is not she. Anne is my lifelong wife, the mother of my three children. She tried to protect the Princess. "Dont leave her, even if you think you must."
But I went. I had to.
The first day in the house: the silence. I openend one of the three books I brought with me. Started reading in Camus, "the wedding." How he extately described a long day at the ruines of an old abby near the sea. Completely inbedded in nature: not the word, but the real thing: the perfume of thousand flowers, the salt on his skin, the warmt of the sun baking his body, back to the womb when he felt himself engulfed by the lukewarm water of the sea.
Happiness. And happiness is not in the brain.
I tried to start the television, but Bobbian had not yet fixed everything. So I sat in the kitchen.
Took a cola light- a zjenzi colá. I am able to order it myself in China.
The sky rose-fingered. The sun in the West a glowing fruit, setting in the haze. On the lake a sailer drifted lazely to the South. Everything quiet. I easily found the words. They didnt reach my heart though.

Before I went to my single bed upstairs, I took the print of a message of Tonio. He was sitting in the new office in Soho-south- Beijijng. Don Yan the projectmanager did a good job. She is a life long friend of the Acrobat. Resembling her. Tender hands, fierce eyes, 159 cm and a very capable projectmanager. She is not she. "Dont leave The Acrobat" she pleaded. But I did.

A print of a mail from Jennifer Zang: "Are you really moving to Argentina?" I tried my Compaq for her telephonenumber. No contact. Yes Jennifer I thougth I am really on my way to
Argentina. That is the reason why I live now in the house on the lake.
Would she understand?
I met her twice. An elegant and professional Chinese Woman, living in Rotterdam. A girl with the smallest hands I ever touched. Businesspartner to Ad Nederloff, who helped us a lot Building Schouten China.
"Why Argentina?' I remembered my question and how many years ago, in a forlorn sundayafternoon, we, Anne en me, were watching a documentary of Gardell, the famous Argentinian/Italian chainsmoking singer. Died a long time ago.
And he sang his most famous song: Volver. How he as an Italian emigrant on the deck of the tramper below the starspeckled sky dreamed of the Promised Land, Argentina. And wheeped about the past he had to leave in order to arrive at his Shangri La.
Shangri La not the Kerry hotel in Beijing, though it carries the same name. It is a region in China. Nor far from Tibet. China.

I phoned Lonneke V to put the program of SchoutenChina on this weblog. Lonneke V, not the sweet wife of Jan Hein, also called Lonneke. From oktober 17 2006 up to now apart of my other business I spent every hour to make "China" a succes. And a succes it will be. In those 160 days I and my friends likeTonio went 6 times to Beijing and back. To investigate, to build. And there of course I met the Acrobat.
Lonneke V said:"yes I will do that for you, Jan, you digibete."
Lonneke V is general manager of Loopbaan.nl, the site I builded together with her the last 18 months. Together with Onno, the leading writer. Starting from scratch, loopbaan.nl now is the leading careerbuilding site in Holland, with everyday increasing traffic.
She is the fastest learning person I recently met. Upwards striving, but staying fresh and never taking a comment, tip, suggestion as a personal affront. So different from the Princess. Anne agrees: Lonneke is different from so many careerwomen, like The Princess, so vulnerable in their selfesteem. Why do so many upward mobile women in Holland regard help as a humiliation- especially when it comes from men?

nr 2. Tuesday april 10 2007

2007-04-10T08:51:00.000-07:00

15 degrees C. Its 17.53 hours. While writing these first letters I remember last night and more specifically my fight with the gentlemen and women of Blogger. Not with them in person but with there virtualized excrements: the procedures and instructions by which Blogger tried to help me find my usename and password. It took one hour and a half. I did not loose or forget those keys to my Blog, they did. Of course! But I survived, like a overactive mouse in a trial and error experiment. They say this is bad tactic but I can assure you: in technical matters trial and error suits me well. So I am in.
My first letter(yesterday) was a short one and needs some explananation. What kind of place is Zaltbommel? What am I doing or used to do in Beijing? Good questions but there is bigger one. Why am I moving to Argentina?
See me sitting yesterday on that terrace in the marketplace of this small city. Tonio is with me.
6 ft. Healthy, running 3 miles a day, always walking to and fro his work. One of the rare psychologist-entrepreneurs I know. More than 24 years a colleague. Now with me in the Board of SNRSchoutenGlobal, the holding of the Schouten&NelissenGroup. also responsible for SchoutenChina. A friend. Nipping his mineral water.
"I wonder,"I said, "why I chose Argentina."
His answer: "I wondered too. Imagine the globe. Do you realise that Argentina is the perfect antipode of China?"
"No."
He laughed. I also did. Stupefied though. With my initial question I wanted to make room for my own explanation. During our visits to Beijijng, we frequented KTV and other karoakeparlors
and the only song I really fullheartedly could cover was the tearjerker: "dont cry for me Argentina." For the rest I sat or stayed laid in the leather feauteuils that borded the walls of the dark cubicle, hand in hand with the Acrobat, also called Shandong Rock, absorbing her angelique face, especially when she took the microphone and sang that slowmoving lilting and lush and lovely Chinese song.
Ton hit me right in the heart. Right. It was the Acrobat and her crazy circus act I left China for. Leaving the field. Tomorrow I am off to Argentina. Also a long distance from Holland.

Of course Acrobat is not her real name. This Blog is devoted to my life as a person, entrepreneur, writer and my text is intertwined with experiences from China, as I also am deeply involved in the creation of SchoutenChina. I write in my best English, also for my foreign friends. Also because one day the blog will be distributed in China (on our site from may 1: SchoutenChina.com).
But why "Acrobat" and not the real name? This blog features all of my
encounters and some of them deserve a pseudonym. She didnt ask for it. Though I am in the process of destroying nearly all consideration for people, in her and some other cases I stick to the old habit, I in my heart really detest more and more.

A couple of minutes ago I said goodby to My Highpriestress of Weightcontrol, Tilly, my personal coach. An attractive woman, natural rouge her cheeks, past her prime, but one of those women who will always stay lively and radiant. Cant say that of every woman (or man).
As I lost more than 7 kilogrammes of peanutbutter Tilly lef5 in a very good mood. And I am in the same "stemming", though a litle bit blocked, due to the permanent feeling of stiffness in my muscles, due to the gym first and the golf parcourse there after.
As to the gym: I went to "the people fitness centre" in 's Hertogenbosch. It is called Sportiom, a name that seems to be loaned from the former Communist Republics in Eastern Europe, silly name, doesnt fit to Den Bosch, the city that in my mind I always call "the most northern French City in Europe." Sportiom is a multifunctional sports accomodation- swimming, icehockey, fitness. In the room today, as always, the variegated ggregration of people: young, old, rich, poor
also some injured soccerplayers from my Footballclub Fc den Bosch, lazily practicing. The same ensemble in the sauna. Mixed. The sauna was good for me today, also the cold bath that heavily flooded after I jumped in. Beautiful women today. Everthing very serene though.
The three sauna's I visted in China all were seperated, there must be some wisdom in this apartheidspolicy.
After that I phoned Apple and I bougth an I ipod. The last time I had my own (casette)music was in 1993 when I crossed and recrossed the ocean. And I bougth another one. For the Acrobat. But when will i see her again? The question makes my stomach heavy. Never more I think now. Its better for me.
My house is in de Bommelerwaard, a lemon shaped polder, 40 km long, bordered by the rivers Maas en Waal. At the west point at the end of the van Heemstrabaan, you will find Almkerk, the village housing the golfcourse I prefer: simple, good food, and I dont practically know nobody: a bonus. I choose the small 3 par course.
I like all sports, and not specifically golf. But golf, just like the matchsailing I fullheartedly practice, requires constant and intense focus. This obligation to cut off all disturbing thougts makes it a good sport for me. And I liked it this afternoon.
On the ground the broken clay surface gives way to fresh grass. Old reed with their fuzzy hair is still swaying but the branches of the willow trees are full of buds, fresh and inviting like nipples.
That last one is not the way I described the abundance of spring around me when I was there, I have to remind you, but at hole nr 5, I have to tell, trying to make a swing from under one of those branches, my eye fell on one of those buds, slightly broken by the tips of softgreen leaves.
And I decided to take it into my mouth. I did. It tasted good. Like parsley. Could easily be a standard ingredient for any cook in the world.
I chewed quitly. Taking the tast with me to the next tee.
Hanging above the ball I tried to swallow. Succesfully. But the sudden bitter taste in my throat distracted me and the ball, well hit, nearly went to China. Not to the hole.
I couldn"t care less.

nr 1. April 9 2007

2007-04-09T11:25:00.000-07:00

april 9 2007 Spring is abundantly filling my eyes- slowing entering a tired brain, hardly open to the fresh smell and tendergreen after my three day visit of Beijing. I am on the move. Leaving the field, retiring to the hills of Argentina. Departing the day after tomorrow. Staying at the house near the lake. What will my future be? Is it heaven that decides? Improbable. Its me and only me that will change my world. So my temporary leaving the field of all love: réculer pour mieux sauter. I hope.
The terrace on the marketsquare of Zaltbommel. Sunlit. Good espresso. With Tonio who is leading SchoutenChina. Things are moving in the right direction. No unsolvable problems. A lot of support for our Chinese Endeaviour.