You may know I left the island in 2020. It was for a “I lost all my gigs because there’s a pandemic” master’s degree. I was not planning to do any of this, or leave for so long or for good, but here we are…
I occasionally get confused emails about if I am in Amsterdam or Copenhagen or Dublin or wherever.
So for the record, I live in the south of the Netherlands in a City-Village called Maastricht.
More info if you’re curious:
Maastricht is (very loosely) the Québec of the Netherlands – here locals often speak a minority dialect of Dutch which has a tangentially French influence, and they often feel like a separate part of the Netherlands. As a non-dutch and non-mestreech person the quickest way to gain respect is by trying to learn the language. Shocking?
Maastricht is a historical meeting point and fortified city on a big fleuve called the Maas or La Meuse. I often reflect on the similarities and differences in the history around the Maas and the Fleuve Saint Laurent from the past 1000 years.
Suffice to say, humans congregate around big bodies of water for thousands of years regardless of if there is written record of such, or a big ole island with a small mountain in the middle of it.
But what on earth am I doing here?
In Maastricht I can be found wearing many hats as a freelancer, comme d’hab. Namely, as a saxophonic wizard, a music teacher, a funded artist in residence, local radio volunteer, small scale producer, and an accidental bike courier.
In my free time, I tend to my bean plants, go paddleboarding on the Maas and take train trips around the region to meet and play music with my deer friends.
I’m about to apply for a big girl visa and aspire to conquer the internet without social media somehow. Also I love the Mosasaurus but that’s a whole other conversation….
Maastricht is about two hours by train away from Amsterdam, Brussels, and Cologne.
Fun fact: in Maastricht, a bike ride in the wrong direction for ten minutes lands you in either Francophone or Flemish Belgium, depending on how wrong the direction is and whatever you perceive is more wrong, Francophone or Flemish. Luckily, two wrongs make a rite.
If you ever end up near here, come take a daytrip to Maastricht. If I am around, I would be so pleased to give you my ”””famous””” tour of the gate to Hell and other medieval parts of the city, or take you on the ten minute bike ride in the wrong direction to Belgium purely to get “Belgian fries.”
A note on “leaving:”
Because I am a private person, people usually aren’t aware that I grew up moving around and am not originally from Montréal (I am the US born sister of a Singaporean born brother who are children of two Newfoundlanders where one of them is Lebanese.) So while moving is always a big undertaking, it is never such a strange thing occurring in my circumstance.
Let me tell you that if you are considering living anywhere else and have the ability to take the risk: you can do it. I am always here to offer counsel to anybody in this situation, because while leaving somewhere beloved is very lonely and difficult, it offers a certain precious perspective impossible to gain otherwise.
J(ulia) Warren 