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Going Dutch
March-April 2001 |

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Considering Holland has a land area twice the size of New Jersey and only 16
million inhabitants, you might assume, incorrectly, that everyone here speaks
the same language. In the northeastern part of The Netherlands lies a province
called Friesland, where over a million Dutch citizens speak Fries (pronounced
“frees”) as their first language. Many of the words that Fries and English
have in common are completely different in Dutch. For example, “horse” is
hors in Fries but paard in Dutch. “Cheese” is tsjiis in Fries but kaas in
Dutch. Can you imagine experiencing this in the States? It would be like driving
down to south Texas and hearing a foreign language being spoken all around you.
Oh, wait…maybe that’s not such a good example. Alright, let’s say you’re
in Miami…wait…I forgot, what point was I trying to make?
The
Dutch are very conscientious about the environment, and the government goes to
great lengths to legislate recycling incentives. Perhaps they should call it
“practicing safe sacks”…of trash. Plastic liter bottles can be returned to
stores for one guilder each, which is about US 50¢. The other day we tried it
and received a voucher for fourteen guilders. I was pretty satisfied with our
new-found fortune until I realized the money was just a return of what we had
overpaid when we originally bought the drinks. Soon the government is going to
include coke cans as well in an effort to curb the problem of highway littering.
The theory is that irresponsible people who litter on the highways will all of a
sudden become responsible citizens and bring in their cans. I’d like to
respectfully submit an alternative idea, courtesy of the great state of Texas,
“Don’t Mess with Holland.”
I
was beginning to think that the cloudy, cold, weather somehow inhibited people
here from wearing bright colors. Then my clothing theory was completely debunked
by the arrival of Carnaval. Just like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, this is a
four-day, non-stop party leading up to the start of Lent. Everyone—young and
old—dresses in wacky, wildly-colored costumes as they wander around the
streets drinking beer, dancing, drinking beer, watching parades, drinking beer,
listening to bands and drinking beer. The
first night Wim and I were walking to the movies, and a guy pointed at us and
shouted “Hey! Two people dressed up like normal people!” So I bought a
rainbow-colored fuzzy top hat to blend in as a native. Unfortunately I never got
to go, because I caught a cold over the weekend and had to stay inside. Lucky
for me I didn’t miss out completely, because our downtown apartment provided
the perfect, warm vantage point for watching as all the parades and bands passed
by in the frigid cold weather. In fact I enjoyed it so much, I’ve decided to
fake a cold for the same purpose next year.
Wim
and I are members at the local “Active Club” fitness club. Our workouts
combine cardio and weights, and we’ve been going regularly, so we sense that
we’ve made some progress. At least that’s what I thought, until the other
night. I was on the quad machine when I looked up and saw a door sign that read
geen toegang. How depressing, I thought, to have a sign in a workout club that
says “no future;” maybe I should just quit now. Fortunately Wim was there to
explain—“no future” is geen toekomst, not geen toegang, which means “no
entrance.” Maybe I need to spend less time on my workouts and a little more
time on my Dutch workbooks.
So
until the next Going Dutch, bye for
now and tot gauw,
Lara
Last update 10 July 2005
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