1. I was switched at birth in my native HOLLAND, aka THE NETHERLANDS.
2. I love cow foot soup, the national dish of ARMENIA.
3. My first baby was born in GHANA, delivered by an African doctor wearing rubber boots and a butcher apron.
5. I speak seven languages, learned while living in various places in the WORLD.
6. I’m a right-wing Republican and I think Sarah Palin is cool and should be the next American President. I learned to be wise like that while living in the USA. (Have dual citizenship.)
7. In Amman, JORDAN, I was invited to sit in Queen Noor’s chair and I did.
So why am I telling you all this about myself? Like you care if I was switched at birth?
Well, my blogger buddy at This Cat’s Abroad did me the favor (thank you!) of giving me this really ugly nice reward and I was told that the price I have to pay for showing it off is to list six outrageous lies about myself and one amazing truth.
Or the reverse. Well, I didn’t. The list above is a mix of truths and lies. You figure it out! (Okay, scroll down and the truth shall be revealed.)
Unfortunately, I have to pass this thing on to seven of you bloggers and you’re gonna hate me for it if you’re one of them. Because you’ll think I think you’re a liar and not a creative writer and you’ll be offended and never read my blog again and then what am I gonna to do?
Then again, maybe you’re a bit off-center and you’re dying to post seven outrageous lies or truths about yourself. But I don’t know who you are, do I?
So, the solution to my problem is this: If you feel worthy of this award, take it! You can tell me by leaving a comment and I’ll post your link. First come first serve – 7 of you.
And to get back to This Cat’s Abroad, let me tell you she’s been around and right now she’s living in IRAQ, having recently moved there from TURKEY. Man, she’s brave! Her posts about her expat life experiences are often hilarious as well as insightful, so check her out.
And now the truth about me shall be told. Here are my statements – true or false?
1. True. I was switched at birth. On day two or three in the maternity clinic I was bathed, then dressed in another baby’s clothes, put in a crib with another baby’s name, later put in the arms of another baby’s mother: A Dutch farmer’s wife.
My mother was given the farmer’s wife’s baby. She did not recognize it as being me. She recognized me as cradled in the arms of the farmer’s wife. To make a long story short, my mother went berserk, until the farmer’s wife shrugged her shoulders and handed me over to my mother, saying she couldn’t tell the difference (I kid you not, true). No identification bracelets in those days. No DNA to check it out, either.
Just think! I could have lived on a farm and been a Dutch milkmaid! Maybe I could have been famous too!
2. I love cow foot soup? False. Very false. Armenian cow foot soup is, let’s say, an acquired taste, and I did not acquire it. (Sorry, Anna, Annahit, Ruzan, Gohar, Vahe, Aram, Armen and all my other Armenian friends 😉
3. My first baby was delivered by a Ghanaian doctor wearing rubber boots and a butcher’s apron. True! My mate is forever to blame for not taking a picture. And talking about my not having an identification bracelet when I was born, my baby didn’t have one either. But she was not switched. I know this for sure because she was the only white baby in the clinic. Which was, to reassure you, a brand-new, well-equipped facility and the Ghanaian doctor was an excellent physician with impressive British initials after his name.
4. Me, a belly dancer? I wish! My man wishes!
5. And the outrageous lies go on: I speak seven languages? Please! All I can claim is two: Dutch and English. I can mess around in German, but it’s shamefully bad. I can manage to eat, sleep and drink wine in French and I know a few words and lines in others. Such as cho iko wapi. Which is Swahili for Where’s the bathroom/toilet. Usually the first sentence I learn in any language I encounter.
6. Miss Footloose, a Republican? A Sarah Palin fan? You didn’t really believe that, did you? You did? Oh, my God.
7. I sat in Queen Noor’s chair. True! And my prince sat in King Hussein’s chair. In the King Abdullah Mosque in Amman. First we were shown the main men’s prayer room (me in borrowed black robe and white scarf for modesty’s sake) and then (after I sheddded the coverings) the guard took us very secretly to the private royal prayer room, against the rules (he whispered). He suggested we sit in the royal seats and he’d take a picture with my camera. We were very privileged, we knew, to have this opportunity. No other tourists were ever so lucky, I’m sure. Needless to say we tipped him generously. (Do forgive the dowdy clothes; I knew we were going to visit the mosque and tried to be respectful. Usually I’m dressed in mini skirts and showing cleavage, as all my friends know.)
I was honored with two more awards recently, but I’m all worn out from telling lies, so they’ll just have to wait to be properly claimed. But I do want to thank the generous donors here:
Now this is beautiful! Thank you Truestarr from Prospero’s Cellphone.
Truestarr lives on the lovely Greek island of Corfu. Her
blog offers “A slightly demented yet oddly positive perspective of Greek life from an expat American/Irish point of view.”
And this Kreativ Blogger Award comes from Shimp of Land of Shimp who has a kreativ way with words and entertains me with fun as well as touching stories on her blog. Thank you Shimp!
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And now, dear readers, lie to me! Or tell the truth, if you prefer. Tell me something outrageous, something unbelievable or fascinating about your life. Come on, ‘fess up!