Passport control

 🌍 A Passport, a Privilege, and the Power of Sport

As a kid, crossing the border from the Netherlands into a new country felt magical. I remember my little sister whispering in awe, “The trees look the same…”

To her, the world beyond that border felt mysterious.

To me, it now feels like a privilege.

🛂 Over the years, I’ve come to realize what a small booklet — a passport — can mean.

Nine out of ten times, I walk through immigration with a nod and a smile.

It took me years of working abroad to truly understand that not everyone can do that.

When colleagues needed special visas, letters, or permissions, I began to ask myself:

What makes me different?

I wasn’t born rich. I come from a small agricultural village. But I had the right passport.

🏃‍♂️ In sport, I found something beautifully different.

At the pitch or track, we were just athletes.

We trained, competed, learned — together.

Nationality, skin color, religion, or sexual orientation didn’t matter.

The stopwatch didn’t discriminate. The fastest won.

⚖️ But being “first among equals” doesn’t mean everyone is treated equally.

In life — and especially while living and working on three continents —

I’ve learned that rules change.

Directness isn’t always welcome. Dress codes shift. Food customs surprise. Work rhythms vary.

The same passport doesn’t open all doors.

🌎 But that’s the beauty of it.

Every country is a chance to learn.

Every person, a chance to grow.

Every culture, a chance to connect.

I didn’t just want to cross borders — I wanted to understand what’s on the other side.

So here I am, still learning, still adapting, still believing in the unifying power of sport and human connection.

🤝 Here’s to building bridges, not just crossing borders.

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