Last Friday was my final day of work at Bridge Consulting Group. As I had expected, it was a relatively lazy day – I helped Ben with a few of his tasks and tidied away the files in my desk.
A few people asked me how I felt about it being my last day. My feelings were mixed. I felt nostalgic, knowing that I was doing some office tasks for the last time. Yet, I was also excited as if it were the last day of school before the holidays.
Usually when someone has their last day of work, they buy boschebollen for everyone in the office. I followed the tradition – at around 4pm, Ben and I went to the nearby bakery to buy a box of the cream-filled treats.
The last hour of work went by slowly. I chatted with Ben and did some of the typical "closing up the office" small tasks. We sat at the table in the front room and ate boschebollen. When it was time to leave, I said my goodbyes to Paul and had some photos taken. He gave me some advice, but it was delievered in his typically blunt style.
I'm not sure how much value Paul got from of the traineeship. I cynically feel that Paul uses the traineeship opportunity as a form of inexpensive labour. He could be learning a lot about perspectives different to his own and dealing with other cultures. I don’t think that he does this as well as he could, so he is missing out.
As for me, I learnt a lot about consulting and how to work in such a firm. Yet, I still have a bitter feeling about Paul’s management style and some of his "office rules" which seem so petty to me. On balance, I am pleased that my time there is over and I can move on to the next chapter in my life.
In the evening, there was a dinner at Vincent's house with the trainees and AIESECers. Ben and I arrived first (directly from work) and drank some beers whilst Lia and Vincent prepared the dinner.
The evening was relaxed and there was enough food prepared for everyone to have a generous helping of seconds and more. Before the evening was over, Lia gave me a few bags of presents on behalf of the local committee. The presents were very thoughtful – a selection of my favourite Dutch foods (including stroopwaffels) and a set of cups and saucers with a blue painted pattern. My favourite gift was a photo album where, on the first few pages, people had written short messages of farewell.
On Saturday, I spent the day in Amsterdam. My plan was to stay at Reij's house on Saturday night, so I wouldn't be too rushed to catch my flight to St. Petersburg on Sunday morning.
Reij's initial plan was to travel to Maastricht to celebrate carnaval, but he changed his mind and stayed behind. There were also six of his other friends visiting and we spent the day sampling all that is unique to Amsterdam. Naturally, we walked amongst the canals and waved to the women in the Red Light District.
Later in the evening, we went to a coffee shop. I never really had any intention of trying anything. Yet, when I saw the "space chocolate milkshake" on the menu, I knew that I wanted it, even though its price was a hefty EUR 5.70. Well, it tasted just like a chocolate milkshake. Its texture was a little grainy because of the extra ingredient of hash.
I wasn't sure what my reaction would be. I didn't notice anything for at least two hours, but from what I have been told, that is normal. When we were heading back to Reij's place, though, I noticed a few things. I'm not sure to what extent these effects were the result of the milkshake or merely a psychological result of me expecting something to happen.
Gravity seemed 50% stronger. I felt like I wasn't really controlling my movements – like a puppet being controlled, by strings, from above. Rather than deciding my own movements, I felt like I was predicting what the "puppet master" would do and, by lucky coincidence, it would happen that way. It is a sensation which is difficult to explain.
When we were back in the apartment, it was worse. My short term memory would stretch back for only seconds. It was how I would imagine the lead character in "Memento" felt. Each moment felt like I had just woken up and I would wonder where I was and how I got there. A typical train of thought would be something like this: "Where am I? Whose room is this? Come on think! Ah, that’s right, I'm in Amsterdam. But why? Aren’t I doing a traineeship in Tilburg? No, stupid! That's over. You're going to Russia tomorrow. But, first, whose room is this?". It was a little scary having to reassure myself of the answers to these basic questions.
Perhaps appropriately, I was unable to contemplate anything which was going to happen more than a few seconds into the future. For instance, I was confused about why I was going to Russia. I had to remind myself that I was visiting Natasha and that I had been planning this trip for weeks.
I also had a sensation of guilt – like I had done something wrong, but I didn't know what it was. I also felt as if everyone else in the room were watching me and were angry with me for some reason.
All the while, I was telling myself that it was the milkshake that was making me feel this way, but this didn't reduce the effects.
So, I have experienced a "space milkshake" but I won't be trying it again.
posted by James 11:19 pm