Dutch. She has more comprehension for that than she had before. "That is the gain of the project", she adds. "You meet people you normally don't see, or better, meet but pass like strangers. You learn to know one another better, because you work together to reach the same goal. So I know by now how to fold a headscarf." Today is their last meeting. The udder consists of a square wooden box, painted pink. The teats are pieces of a broomstick. Rik Mars is quiet satisfied with the result. The first idea for the work went into a very different direction. They had asked themselves what a cow really is. A dairy factory, was the clinical answer, keeping in mind the beautiful song Brigitte Kaandorp once wrote about cows. At the front grass enters and after a long journey through the many maws it leaves like milk at the rear. The initial idea was to fill the head and front with turf or artificial grass and the rump with milk cartons. But that would have been too vulnerable. The final destination is clear: the Waterlandplein. Where exactly, they do not know yet. That will be settled later. The ladies are pleased. "The last thing to do is a ring through her nose," snuckles Adri, "then she is finished." The animal is earmarked WereldBoe (World Moo).