One of the things I like about Vladimir Putin is his watch. Not because it's a forty thousand euro Patek Philippe Perpetual Calendar - I mean, Silvio Berlusconi wears a 350,000 euro Vacheron Constantin that makes Mr Putin's look like he won his in a shooting gallery - but because the Russian leader wears it on his right wrist instead of his left. By Perro de Jong.

I'd always thought I was the only one that did that.

I'm left-handed, so I guess it's because I don't want my watch to be in the way. Then again, most left-handed people don't seem to mind. I wonder if that's because they had the good sense to copy the people around them when they grew up, whereas I didn't realize I was doing anything unusual until much later. By which time classmates were asking me to what strange cult I belonged.

The same cult as Mr Putin, I can now proudly report. And the funny thing is, he's not even a natural leftie. Maybe he's taking his cue from Russian scientists, who predict that the future belongs to the left-handed. The number of left-handed babies, for instance, has doubled in just two decades, and in addition to being more intelligent, we're supposed to have the gift of extrasensory perception as well.

Great Britain
Telepathy! X-Ray Vision! Things no world leader with a soft spot for 24-year-old gymnasts could do without. There's even a theory that left-handedness is proof of the extraterrestrial origin of life, because in outer space right-handed amino acids are blasted into oblivion by neutron stars, while their left-handed siblings survive. Or something like that.

So there. I've always known I was an alien. Which is why I was thrilled to read that the British government has finally declassified its secret archive on UFO sightings. But what a disappointment that turned out to be. Although it's entertaining to read that the House of Lords held an actual debate on UFOs in 1979, during which the reassurance was heard that "Her Majesty's government has never been approached by people from outer space."

Well, that very year Margaret Thatcher would take power. But never mind. I suspect the last reliable sighting in Britain of a mysterious cigar-shaped object was in the corner of Winston Churchill's mouth.

The Vatican
Thankfully, there was still the Vatican, which unexpectedly resuscitated my childlike belief this week. None other than its chief astronomer - the reverend José Gabriel Funes - said that it's okay to believe in aliens. Which - let's face it - is a surprisingly forward-looking viewpoint for an institution whose chief contribution to astronomy so far had been to pour boiling wax on the genitals of anyone refusing to believe the sun revolves around the earth.

But of course the Pope is smart enough to know who his potential customers are. I mean, if you're the kind of person who believes in little green men that come in peace and want to be taken to your leader, you won't blink twice if someone tells you Jesus rose from the dead after three days. Just beam him up, Scotty!

At least it's all infinitely less boring than the kind of discussion about aliens we seem forever condemned to have here in the Netherlands these days, where one clever clogs reacted to the opening of the British X-Files by saying we already have more than a million of them here, thank you very much, and you don't need to spot a UFO for that.

United States
Actually, in a few months' time, I'll become one myself - albeit briefly - when I travel to the United States for a couple of weeks. The release from our increasingly provincial attitudes will be welcome. But I'm not entirely reassured about the fact that I'll be what's known in the jargon of the US immigration authorities as an ‘arriving alien'.

Apparently, there are no fewer than sixty grounds on which immigration officers can send ‘arriving aliens' back on the next plane or even place them in detention. So to be on the safe side, maybe when I get to Immigration I should take off my watch and temporarily put it on the other wrist. Because for those guys, it might not be proof of my superior left-handed intelligence or my extraterrestrial origins, but a secret terrorist code. Or at the very least a sign of my admiration for some pinko commie bastard in Moscow.

Who's to say? The truth may be out there, but frankly, there are some things I'd rather not find out.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are the personal views of the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of Radio Netherlands.

May 2008

[Radio Netherlands 2008]