I was in a train, going from somewhere to nowhere. Staring out of the window, landscape disappearing in cadence, ca-deng, ca-deng, ca-deng. I heard a noise, a girl was eating in cadence, smack-eng, smack-eng, smack-eng. In front of her: a boy, turning pages of his paper in cadence, woosh-eng, woosh-eng, woosh-eng. Everything was so quiet, SO QUIET, so VERY quiet.
But THEN......
The boy got a phone-call. Bleep, bleep, bleep. No more woosh-eng, no more smack-eng, even ca-deng disappeared. The boy spoke in soft sounds, in a language we couldn't understand. The girl and I stared at him, in a way only Dutch girls can do. I wondered: to whom was he speaking in this beautiful way, using unknown words, his girlfriend, his sister, the Virgin Mary? Ca-deng, ca-deng returned. Smack-eng didn't. The girl wanted to know and asked in which language he sung the beautiful words in his mobile. The boy said: "Polish". The girl said: "Really?" The boy said: "Yes". Then the girl replied in a way only Dutch girls can do: "I don't believe this, I heard Polish before, this didn't sound like Polish! This was much more poetic, softer, this sounded beautiful!" And the boy answered: "Maybe my pronounciation is wrong, Polish is not my mother-language." He returned to his paper, woosh-eng, wooshing-eng. The girl continued breakfast, smack-eng smack-eng. The window was back again, showing another landscape, ca-deng, ca-deng, ca-deng. And everything was just fine.
