Lost in Translation

The international programs at UU are taught in English, and as a rule Dutch people speak English quite fluently and willingly. However, awkward collisions between Dutch and English are unavoidable. Here are a few tips for navigating the language highway.

Beware automatic translators on Dutch websites! Like satnav, they can lead you astray. Recently I was seeking information about spinning classes on a Dutch health club web site and was surprised to find that the club offered, in bold type, “Virtual Spiders!” Which only makes sense once you realize “spin” in Dutch means “spider,” and the plural, “spinnen” translates to “spiders.” Otherwise, you might mistake a cycling class for a horror movie. Then again, perhaps virtual spiders are included as motivation to spin especially vigorously!

When speaking Dutch, be careful about slipping in English words that don’t necessarily translate well. For example, the Dutch word for “wife” is “vrouw.” The sound-alike Dutch word, “wijf,” is a perjorative term meaning “bitch” or “old bag.” So unless you really don’t like somebody’s wife, take care when referring to her as such! Also, note that the Dutch word for buttocks is “bil.” This just might account for the amused expression you receive when you politely ask for your “bill” after dinner. And the nickname for William, “Willem” in Dutch, is “Wim,” so your new friend Willem might misunderstand if you ask whether you can him “Bill.”

Also be careful with Dutch words that sound similar but have very different meanings. For example, “borstel” means brush, while “borsten” means breasts. So, when shopping for a hair brush, don’t ask the clerk whether she has borsten and where they may be located. And using "kers," cherry, when you meant "kaars," candle, might find you looking for candles in the produce aisle. 

Of course, awkward translations also abound when a Dutch speaker slips in a  Dutch word while speaking English. My mother once had a Dutch friend who cheerfully informed her new American in-laws that she was going upstairs for a “douche,” which in Dutch means shower. Thanks for sharing! My aged Dutch grandmother used to raise eyebrows when asking for “prik,” soda, in American restaurants. And “dik” means fat, thick, or bulky, but might be misconstrued when describing someone as a little dik.

Even a technically correct translation will not always translate well. For example, in asking for a match or lighter in America, you would ask for a “light.” However, if you use the proper Dutch word for light, “licht,” you may be quizzically referred to a nearby lamp. In Dutch, you would ask for “vuur,” fire, and matches are “lucifers.” I imagine a Dutch person asking an American for fire or Lucifer might be misunderstood, as well!

So buy a good Dutch/English dictionary, take Dutch classes through ING, go to language exchange Meet Up groups, and practice, practice, practice! Meanwhile, I am off to the gym for some virtual spiders. I shall work my bill off, have a quick douche, find my borsten, and then set some cherries on fire with Lucifer -- sounds relaxing, no?

50 Grades of Pay

“She brought her selections to the counter, eyeing his long fingers poised over the till, and wondered whether to give him a warm bit of plastic or cold, hard cash….” Paying for merchandise and living expenses is something you normally do without a great deal of thought. But as an international student in the Netherlands, you must get a passing grade in paying your way in order to live here for any length of time. So, here’s everything you need to know about paying in the Netherlands.* (*But were afraid to ask)

First, you need a Dutch bank account. You cannot get a phone plan, personal OV chip card, or make any sort of automatic payment without one. Everything is geared toward payment with a debit (“pin”) card from a Dutch bank. Without that pin, it don’t mean a thin’! And with the pin card comes the “random reader” for internet purchases and online banking. (Not a Kindle, a “Pindle”!) You must slide your card into this device, follow numerous prompts, obtain a code and submit it online before you can complete any sort of internet transaction. No, it really isn’t a field sobriety test, just a means of protecting your bank account from internet rogues. Safe text, as it were.

Second, forget about linking anything for automatic payment to your credit card, or for that matter, using your credit anywhere other than places accustomed to tourists. It just won’t be accepted. Again, you need that pin card, or cash. Understand that credit cards are the exception here, not the rule. And most Dutch credit cards are automatically paid off monthly from the cardholder’s Dutch bank account, which for most people negates the whole point of having a credit card in the first place! But also the reason personal debt here rarely spirals out of control. More than one person has commented to me that moving here has forced them to live within their means, in a liberatingly debt-free way. Nothing like an honest buck with no strings attached!

Getting a Dutch bank account is not so simple, however. It is a rather lengthy  courtship. As with everything else, it is highly regulated. You must get a residence permit, a BSN number (like a social security number), and register with the city in which you reside. UU does a great job in efficiently taking care of the residence permit for students, as well as providing details on city registration and so forth. And, UU works with Rabobank to provide for student accounts that can be activated as soon as school begins, before the rest of the details have been completed. But you must later provide the bank with those details or they will freeze your account, as I discovered to my chagrin. There I was, horrified to think someone had hacked my account, and it was just good ole’ Dutch regulation at work! Regulation, I might add, that tends to prevent such fraud in the first place.

So there you have it, the ins and outs of paying in the Netherlands. As easy (and as regulated) as a red light district. Have fun, spend wisely and  be safe!

The New Normal

You know you are becoming Dutch when all the things that seemed so different become quite normal. So how do you know when you are really at home in Utrecht? 

 

You don’t bother to see whether it’s raining or how cold it is before deciding whether to go out; you just deal with it.

You heart is no longer in your mouth when cycling on a narrow street shared with pedestrians, cars, trucks, buses, motorcycles and hoards of other cyclists, not to mention construction zones; you just move over, go around, go with the flow… and ping that bell!

You stop arriving everywhere 30 minutes early because you realize that if you leave five minutes beforehand you will still be on time.

You get seriously annoyed when those always-timely trains arrive even 5 minutes late. After all, the Dutch love to complain!

You find yourself speaking Dutch with that upper octave lilt, especially when saying “Doei!”

You find that you actually like bitterballen.

You expect the beer to be both very good and very cheap.

You leave the Netherlands and think everyone must have shrunk a foot.  

You leave the Netherlands and astonish people by laying three kisses on them.

You no longer marvel at the second lives of old churches as apartments or bars.

When paying for items, you understand that “pin” is a verb and has nothing to do with needles.

You drink tap water because it is just as good as bottled water – and a lot cheaper!

When ordering water in restaurants, you specify still or sparkling. And you are no longer surprised that iced tea is always sparkling.

You reckon a clean public bathroom is worth the 30 cents you must pay to use it.

You expect your coffee to be fantastic without paying Starbucks prices, which suddenly seem pretty exorbitant.

You no longer are surprised to see cats in stores or dogs in restaurants.

You just start climbing several stories on those incredibly steep stairs without wondering if there is an elevator.

You realize fries are much better with mayo than with catsup.

You are accustomed to being on a first-name basis with everyone, including your teachers and doctors.

You think pedicures are a waste of time and money as your feet won’t see the light of day anyway.

You own and actually use an agenda.

The numbered bike routes start making sense.

You no longer expect streets to keep the same names as they progress.  

You realize the only crime you really need to worry about can be prevented or at least rendered less likely with a good bike lock.

You no longer squeal, ooh and point at every old windmill you see. Although, you never stop smiling at them!

You appreciate frankness without equating it with rudeness.

However, one thing you never, ever, stop noticing and being delighted with is the fact that every cup of coffee or tea is always served with a cookie or piece of chocolate!

Oud en Nieuw

I arrived back in Phoenix for the holidays, blinking like a vampire blinded by all that sunshine! It all comes back to me. Wearing shorts, giggling at comments about the chilly mid-60’s weather. Get out the parkas! Driving a car for the first time since last summer, having to drive forty minutes to get anywhere, and then not being able to have a beer since I have to drive back. Driving on the five-lane freeway with the grill of a monster truck filling my rear-view mirror. News broadcasts detailing the usual local shootings, ongoing discussions about arming teachers. (Really.) But hiking up an actual mountain! And meeting someone on the trail who went to school in the Netherlands years ago wanting to try out his Dutch again. Santa hats and Christmas ornaments perched whimsically on large cacti, and gorgeous, vividly surrealistic sunsets. Okay, largely due to the wintertime pollution inversion layer, but pretty spectacular nonetheless! Holiday reunions with family and friends, visiting former colleagues, and feeling very missed. Basking in the warmth of the old and familiar, in a very new city of over five million people from all over the US. Not much has changed. Except me, perhaps.

 

Three airports, two train stations, and one soggy walk through the rain, suitcase clattering over the cobblestone, and I am back home in Utrecht. Dragging my bag into my 400-year-old house in the city center, exhausted with jet lag torpor but unlikely to sleep anytime soon, I go to my completely modern kitchen, look in the fridge and ponder whether I should go to Albert Heine for some groceries. After all, it’s just a walk up the street and open late. Checking my email, I find one of my meet up groups is having a get together right up the street as well. Unpacking can wait. I walk down the narrow street amidst the cheerful chatter of bundled-up pedestrians and cyclists, their breath in the chill air forming vaporous cartoon dialogue bubbles, and go into a gezellig, warm café. I have a beer (after all, it’s a short walk back home!) with new friends with all sorts of accents and varying degrees of English and Dutch proficiency, and even a fellow ‘Merican from Colorado. All are basking in the crowded warmth of new beginnings in a very old city of 300,000 people, with students and expats from all over the world. Groceries, too, can wait, after all there is plenty of time and everything is so close! Yes, George Bailey, it is, indeed, a Wonderful Life! I am happy to be back.

In the Netherlands, Oud en Nieuw, “Old and New,” is celebrated with fireworks and sparklers. In Phoenix, as in many places in the US, New Year’s Eve is celebrated by gunshots fired in the air. And so my old year in the New World ends with a bang, and my new year in the Old World begins with a sparkling display of hope for the future. Out with the new, in with the old, we'll take a cup o' kindness yet!

It's the End of the World (as we know it)...

If the Mayans were right, the world is scheduled to end later this week, on Friday, 21/12/12, to be exact. (Can’t we at least have one last weekend??) Regardless of whether the world ends, the year soon will. Perhaps it is time to take stock. I am going back to Phoenix for the holidays, and technically I will be landing in Phoenix just as doomsday begins across the pond. For me, being in transit at such a time is most befitting! And, landing in a city whose namesake is the mythical firebird, consumed by flames and then arising from the ashes, even more so.

When this year began, I was a respected, well-paid lawyer with job security, excellent benefits, and a pension that would only improve the longer I worked. I was a home owner, with a minimal mortgage kept only for tax purposes.  Many would say – and did say -- that I had it made; I should just relax, enjoy the fruits of my labor, and be grateful for an enviable position in a very bad economy. Instead, I applied to UU, retired, sold my house, condensed my life to an assortment of boxes, stashed, along with my car, at my mother’s house, and moved to the Netherlands, where I was born, to begin anew as a student. Leaving home and coming home – all in one fell swoop. Beginning a whole new chapter: a tale of two cities, a tale of Christmas past, present and future. Which is my past, and which my future? I don’t really know.

What I do know, cliché as it may sound, is that it is the journey and not the destination that counts. Terrifying (and exhilarating) endings, exhilarating (and terrifying) beginnings, embracing and letting go, destruction followed by renewal, winter to spring, old year to new, forever going back to the future. Every place you have lived, every challenge you have undertaken, every person you have loved, leave their mark on your soul. For good or for ill, you take them with you wherever you go. But you never know what lies around the next corner. Sometimes the past is just the past; a nice place to visit but you really can’t live there anymore. And sometimes the past revisited will surprise you by transforming into the future. You just have to wait and see, remain open to all possibilities, and savor the moments that go by on the way to… who knows? Just have faith that you will know when you have arrived, and will also know enough to act on it; choosing a future that embraces the past with no regrets, only hope.

My two beautiful cites: Phoenix, built on the ashes of the ancient Hohokam, again claiming a fertile land from the harsh Arizona desert with irrigation canals. And Utrecht, with its medieval canals and nearby new polder land, in a country whose existence is dependent on the constant effort of reclaiming land from all that water. In transit between the two, it may very well be the end of the world as we know it… and I feel fine!

Happy holidays to all, see you next year!

Gasping through the Snow…

It’s snowing! The snowflakes, first drifting lazily, pick up speed and turn the scene outside your window into a snow globe. You tug on your boots and gleefully go out to take those first snow-photos, it is a winter wonderland! So nice to watch out the window as you sip some warm gluhwine at a local pub, and it is magical walking at midnight the short distance home with all that twinkling snow. But in the cold, hard light of day comes the moment of truth. You have someplace to go a bit further than just down the street, and face the prospect of riding your bike on a street surface that resembles a glazed donut. Suddenly everything you thought you’d learned about biking around Utrecht must be reconsidered!  

So, which is least likely to result in an awkward spill, walking or biking? Opinions vary, and of course cycling on icy streets is precarious. Turn too sharply or quickly, and you will find yourself breathlessly sliding onto the cold, hard street, seeing stars even in broad daylight. However, walking on icy, uneven cobblestone and brick is quite treacherous as well, and the snow does not soften the surface one bit!  The ice and snow do not prevent the intrepid Dutch from cycling; they just dress in more layers and pedal along with the usual aplomb, multi-tasking away. What’s more, the bike lanes seem to have salting priority over sidewalks or streets and look far more inviting than either. The final deciding factor, not only will you reach your destination far more quickly on a bike, but your feet will stay much drier! 

So, I set off on my first biking sojourn in the snow, wearing my thickest coat for padding in case I hit the street and snow boots with plenty of traction in case I needed to suddenly plant my feet. Gingerly, I set off, keeping my eye on the road ahead, trying to determine whether it was just wet or a patch of ice. It was mostly wet and slushy and I relaxed into my usual rhythm, taking very wide, slow turns and using my brakes judiciously. One nuisance is wearing a hat and a hood makes it difficult to look behind you before you move over, but of the usual pinging bells warn if you get in anyone’s way. I arrived safely, after a few slides and wobbles, and was grateful to peel off all my layers and be offered a lekker kopje koffie. Think I might survive winter in the Netherlands after all! After a Phoenix summer, in a mere four months, out of the frying pan and into the freezer – without shattering! 

 

I leave you with a holiday biking song I improvised along the way: 

Gasping through snow

On a one-bike open sleigh

Over the ice we go

Screaming all the way (oh non oh on, oh no!) 

Bells on bikes do ping

Making spirits fright

What fun it is to gasp and swing

A-splaying wrong tonight! 

Oh, pinging bells, pinging bells

Pinging all the way

Oh what fun it is to slide

In such a disarray - hey! 

Pinging bells, pinging bells

Pinging all the way

Oh what fun it is to ride

Right into that café!

Dutch Oven

As winter looms, what traditional Dutch comfort food will keep you warm?

Stamppot, a mash-up of potatoes and boerenkool (curly kale), served with rookworst (smoked sausage) or gehaktballen (meatballs). Or Hutspot, a mash-up of potatoes and carrots, also served with rookworst or spek (bacon). A very quintessential Dutch mainstay, you can buy a microwave-ready version at the supermarket, although it is simple enough to make yourself. Comfort food on many levels, as it is healthy, high in carbs and really does keep you warm on those cold nights!

Soups. There is quite an array of wonderful soups, including tomato with goat cheese, beet, lentil and more exotic fare like Surinamese peanut soup. But my all-time favorite is good old-fashioned Dutch pea soup, also known as snert. Traditionally, it is very thick, like stew, and you know it is especially good if your spoon can stand up straight in your bowl! My mother used to make a huge pot from scratch, soaking the peas, slow-cooking with sausage or an actual pigs foot. The huge pot being necessary because the older it gets, the more times re-heated, the thicker and better it gets. In later years, she used shortcuts, using quick-cooking peas and hot dogs, and as healthy eating became the norm, using turkey hot dogs. (This was California, after all.) But her most clever addition was a pinch of baking soda to alleviate the by-product of all that pea soup in a small house; the proverbial Dutch Oven effect!

Sandwiches. A  brodje kaas (bread with cheese), to go along with your soup. But also high on the comfort food scale, hagel slag. Literally meaning hail storm, hagel slag is actually chocolate sprinkles used as a sandwich topping. Yes, a chocolate sandwich! What could be better? Available in milk or dark chocolate, and my own twist on this childhood favorite is using peanut butter rather than regular butter. Pick your jaw back up and just try it!

A bucket of mosselen (mussels), hot and steaming. Admittedly an acquired taste, as is raw herring. (The latter being a taste I have never managed to acquire, not even when washed down with copious beer chasers!)

Kroketten. Deep-fried rolls filled with ragout, although you can get vegetarian versions and even satay versions. A staple of every Dutch Automat, they are quite ubiquitous, as are their small meatball-sized cousins, bitterballen. You can even buy them at McDonalds, which features a sandwich called, you guessed it, McKroket! And then there is the McFlurry Kruidnoten…

Which brings me to Sinterklaas comfort food. Speculaas are cookies or pastries made with brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, ginger, topped with almonds or filled with almond paste. Kruidnoten are button-sized cookies featuring much of the same spices. One thing I miss is seasonal pumpkin-flavored everything, particularly pumpkin lattes at Starbucks. Pumpkins just don’t feature here, nor does Starbucks for that matter, except in train stations and the airport. My cousin informs me this is because Dutch people are far too sensible (and cheap!)  to buy such expensive coffee. But I recently went to Starbucks and had a seasonal speculaas latte. (You see, even Starbucks and McDonalds must give the Dutch their due!) Quite tasty, and quite a comfort!