Most often than not, because of the cold that is the country itself (not kidding, it is cold -2 months of every year!!), I forget to see that the Netherlands is a beautiful country.
When I was a little girl in that far, small city of Zamboanga, I used to dream that someday, I would want to see Europe and its cobbled streets.
While growing up, I forgot about that dream. I became busy surviving.
This morning, again, just like every other mornings, while in the bus and I see the bricked, square houses, I am being reminded – yet again – that I am here. I am here, in this beautiful country, with its cobbled streets.
Sometimes, I still forget, that this is my home now.