When I woke up, I looked outside and saw that the house in front of mine had a huge Spanish flag draped out of the window, while the streets were littered with sad, deflated orange balloons.
I don’t watch football, and this includes the World Cup. On the night of the finals, I heard a huge ruckus in front of the apartment—screaming, fireworks, cheers, music. Great, I thought, the Netherlands had won! I posted a message on Facebook saying that I was glad and went back to sleep.