finding menno

It has been brought to my attention by a certain Dutchman who will remain nameless (although his name does resemble that of a little fish...), that I have been neglecting to explain fully to all my blog faithfuls who this mysterious and intriguing fellow named Menno really is. You may have noticed his name here and there in my posts, but I have yet to put into words exactly how this tall lad earned himself the honor of being called my friend. So this is the story of a boy named Menno...

It all started one day when I was leaving my residence hall to go to the library for an internet date with Megan. I was booking it at my normal furious walking pace, because I wanted to make sure that I made it there on time to catch my lovely roommate before she went off to class! Just as I was about to turn the corner to take my normal shortcut, I see before me a tall, handsome guy that I had never seen before. Thinking he looked too nice to be French, I brushed it off and continued on my way to the library. Then to my surprise, this imposing figure turns to me and asks, "Excusez-moi mademoiselle, est-ce que vous connaissez où se trouve le bureau de CROUS?" Not knowing exactly what he meant by the CROUS office, which is the governing body for the student residence halls, I was somewhat confused, until a girl that was with him, Annemiek, asked if I spoke English, I replied that I did, and they proceeded to explain that they needed to get their rooms quickly before the office closed for the day. I finally realized they need to go to the secretariat, and showed them the way. Little did I know, this would be the beginning of a wonderful friendship between three Dutch kids and myself.

A few days later, I was with Stephanie and saw Menno again with his other Dutch friends at the bus stop, and we got to know each other a little better waiting for the bus to arrive. Then, he made a wonderful second impression by getting on the bus, and promptly smacking his head on the television monitor mounted on the ceiling of the bus. One of the things that makes Menno so special is his height...he measures no less than 2 meters tall, which for us Americans is the equivalent to 6'6". Shortly thereafter, Menno and his two compatriots, Jan-Willem and Annemiek, came by the kitchen while we were finishing up dinner one Saturday night. Somehow the topic of conversation turned to geography, and Menno was able to coolly name half of the U.S. states, and upon discovering our lack of knowledge concerning Dutch provinces, he in turn began instructing us in the geography of the Netherlands. That same evening we uncovered another interesting fact, Menno is crazy about Gilmore Girls! Not like he just watches the show, he's a real fan, and could probably tell you the storyline of every single episode that's ever aired in the Netherlands. The following day we visited the castle with him, and not knowing much about him, our interactions with him usually were sarcastic remarks about his height...but he took them all very well and never crushed us little people standing at his feet.

The next major event of our friendship that I can remember involves crepe night in Brian's kitchen. We were all standing around eating lots and lots of crepes, and I think I said something really sarcastic to Menno about being a giant or something, and he turns to me and says, "Bitch!" I was shocked, and the whole room suddenly got silent. He looked thoroughly confused, and then realized that for Americans, calling someone a female dog is a pretty strong statement, whereas for him it's more like calling someone a jerk. But nonetheless, it was a slip-up that insures that I will always remember Menno, the first person to ever call me that name.

From then on, we kind of had a drought of Menno's presence. He decided that we weren't very cool and starting hanging out with other people, we in turn would gather every night to talk about him and make cruel acronyms for his name. But then the strikes here in France saved our friendship. Because of the strikes we had to take the bus to some of our classes that had been moved to another campus across town, and with the assistance of a little wonder called an iPod, and we began to bond like molecules of sodium and chloride (quick author's note: being able to make that chemistry analogy brought a smile to my face). We'd ride to class and listen to his music, with him painstakingly translating every Dutch song that came up. Music is one of the devices that brought us together, bonding over such songs as "I Try" by Macy Gray, "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey, "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield, anything by Joss Stone, and some Dutch song that talks about flying over land and sea. Then during class we'd sit next to each other and talk about how much we detest Mme. Maillard, and instead of paying attention in class we'd solve Sudoku puzzles.

Sometime in the midst of all of this iPod bonding, we found out Menno's last name...Captein. But for some reason, everytime I saw it I thought "el capitan!", so I decided that that was how I would refer to him. Also, he divulged to us his real name, Menno is just a nickname, his real name is really Dutch and really cool, but due to a vow of silence that I took I can't tell you what it is...or he'll beat me with an Estonian ritual beating stick. Also, one of the most impressive things about Menno...he was able to learn perfectly all the 50 states AND their capitals in less than a week! Seriously, if you ever meet this kid, give him a state, and he'll astound you with his speed in responding. \par\parHowever, one of the greatest surprises that has come with being Menno's friend is discovering his hidden talent for storytelling. One night on a whim, I asked him to read a little from The Chronicles of Narnia, since his English has a slight British accent I thought it would be more authentic to hear him read it. Little did I know, this little taste of Narnia would enchant Menno, and his presence became integral for our storytimes. He developed the best voices for Bree and Shasta in The Horse and his Boy, and is just amazing. So much so that, if I have kids in the future, I may have to call up Menno and spend fortunes on long-distance phone calls so my children can experience his great story-telling.

Now, Menno and us three American girls are tighter than that little screw on my outlet cover (if I haven't ever told you that story, that sucker was TIGHT!) He plays Hot Seat with us, we let him eat our cookies and fruit snacks without making him pay centimes for each one he devours, and we've gotten over the fact that we were his third choice for friends in Angers. But all in all, Menno Captein (CAPITAN!) is my favorite Dutchman, probably even my favorite European. And that is the end...hopefully Menno will stop crying now about me not mentioning him enough on my blog.