Oh Oh Den Haag

Since we'll be leaving soon(ish), we've started compiling a list of all the things we want to see or do before we leave - both in Holland and in Europe. Meanwhile, I'm snapping as many photos as seems reasonable to document our time here. I'll start sharing some of the more everyday things that we generally overlook like tram stops and such.

But maybe I shouldn't bother, because this guy has not only posted video footage of my foster city, but wrote a song as well. It's not quite "New York, New York," or "Do You Know the Way to San Jose," but it's a bit catchy, if not a bit tropical or something.



This video is at least 15 years old, but generally it still looks the same. Notice the overcast sky?

BTW, my Dad found this clip. He could probably ghost write my blog after we leave. That guy's never even been here!

Dude, Where's My Market?

Back in Autumn, a farmer's market sprung up on Thursdays across the street from our apartment. What better way to promote laziness than have a farmer's market set up shop right in front of you?

This one featured local fruit and veggies, organic juices, farmhouse cheeses and deli items if you're into that. It wasn't big, but it was perfect for our neighborhood.

Then one day this guy shows up with his medieval horns.



It was cute at first, and seemed to attract a bit of attention. Yeah cute until it became obvious that he only knew how to play one scale. No tunes, just this one scale. Over and over and over again. All day long.



After his second appearance, the market was no more. Did he scare the market away, or is there just nothing to sell at a farmer's market this time of year? Judging from the look on that woman's face, my money's on the former.

Making the Best of a Tight Situation

This one is for PK. I know I'm still on and off the wagon with posting, but I swear I have good excuses. Being out of town, busy and sick are all good reasons to lay low. But PK's right.

The Netherlands' 16 million or so residents live in an area the size of two New Jerseys or Connecticut and Massachusetts combined. That's not really a lot of people, but it's not a lot of size either. Most of us, as in almost half, are crammed into a corridor of cities known as the Randstad, or edge city, because they generally skirt the coast. The Randstad encompasses Amsterdam, The Hague, Rotterdam and Utrecht (and everything in between) and it takes not much more than an hour by train to get end-to-end.

In a word, it's tight. You can never really get away from people in the Randstad, and the size and price of housing is reflected in an area that's short on space and long (and tall) on people. It's also reflected in a grumpier, fussier attitude as people constantly angle for a swatch of personal space.

We live in a reasonably large studio apartment on the first floor (it'd be the second floor in the U.S.) of a row house. The top three floors were probably one nice, big house at one point. Today, there are five apartments in my building and we are in the largest one. The stairs and corridors are narrow and steep, allowing for quick height gain (the ceilings are all nice and tall) but making any normal journey up and down the stairs a bit perilous. Never mind moving furniture in and out.

Our furniture and boxes were brought up through the balcony via this ladder/elevator thingy (below). In the absence of a balcony, they'd have moved everything in through one of the big pictures windows.



A couple of weeks ago, I watched our neighbors across the street move a grand piano into their apartment. Naturally I snapped some shots. I suppose you might see this kind of thing in some of America's older cities, but this was a first for me.






Notice that someone in the second photo is running around in a robe with a towel on her head. You'd think you'd be a bit more prepared for a piano delivery. Actually I'm not that surprised. I once saw my neighbor bring out the garbage in his tighty whities.

Duned

This past weekend the Sun managed to beat down the Clouds here in the low country and we managed a whole Saturday's worth of sunshine. As I've hinted before, this is nothing short of monumental. In honor of the occasion our mini-daffodils bloomed early. How 'bout that? For a much-needed dose of Vitamin D, B- and I took Nigel to Oostduin Park for a bit of wandelen among the dunes.

It's strange and wild landscape and hard to imagine that much of the Netherlands used to look like that. In fact, there are big chunks of the interior of the country filled with sand dunes. The following is a photo I took last Easter at Hoge Veluwe National Park, which is a good two hour drive East of The Hague.



Really, can you see much difference?

In other news, I posted some happy snaps from our trips to Vienna and France. Enjoy.

Poop Police

Ok yeah so I didn't quite make it back on the blog wagon (blagon?) after my last post. Between working a lot (and by a lot I mean A LOT) and getting sucked into past seasons of Grey's Anatomy (thanks iTunes), and B- being out of town for work, and me being generally disgruntled, I didn't feel like blogging. Sorry folks - I'll snap out of it.

B- and I are going through a "we hate it here" phase. All the expat books and magazines warned us that it would happen. One day you wake up and you just hate it here. It doesn't help that I can count the number of times I've seen the sun since October on one hand, and that it freakin' rains all the damn time, and that Dutch people aren't very nice and the only time they talk to me is to get in my face about something they think I'm doing wrong, AND that the BBC is running a month-long show about Brits moving to Australia where the sun shines all day every day and they have big, huge houses with lots of land. It also doesn't help that Nigel Beagle acts weirder and weirder every day - clearly he doesn't like it here either.

I don't blame him.

Yesterday a van pulls up along side me while I'm out with Nigel for his afternoon skull drag (he doesn't like to walk around our neighborhood for some reason). Two public servants jump out, one with an alarming facial disfigurement - you know the kind that you try not to stare at but what are you going to do? she's right there talking to you - accusing me of not picking up Nigel's poo. This is absurd given my views on the poop-leaving tendencies of everyone else in this country.

I tell her that he just peed, not pooed. She looks at me with suspicion. I show her my roll of poop bags, one of over 100 rolls that I smuggled in from the U.S. back in June, and self-righteously explain to her that I ALWAYS pick up the poo. It's disgusting not to. The other guy walks over from the van to back her up because I'm questioning her authority, and I explain to him that I didn't leave the poo because Nigel didn't poo. And he says, and I'm not kidding, "can we go see?" He actually wants to walk back over to where Nigel peed (Ok fine, he pees like a bitch. Seriously. Whatever.) to see if I'm lying or not.

What??? WTF is wrong with these people?

So, I march them over to Nigel's pee stain to examine the evidence. There's only but a puddle, just like I said. The woman says nothing and the guy starts apologizing. As we start back on our way, public servants pulling up the rear, Nigel does his little booty jiggle before he settles down to drop off a big one. The male public servant literally shouts, "Oh shit!" I turn and flash them my smuggest smile as I began to fidget for a poop bag. They hurry off in shame. Bastards.

A couple of weeks ago a bus driver accused me of trying to get out of paying the fare even though I'd just handed him my ticket. He actually told me that I didn't look like I knew what I was doing. Uhm, what? And that translates to me skipping a fare after I've already handed you my ticket how?

I picked up my new residence permit yesterday. As the woman handed it over to me, I had one of those Ally McBeal-type fantasies of going nutso at the immigration office, flinging residence permits all the while screaming about where they could stuff them. I assure you that I smiled graciously and thanked them for their time.

I'm not sure how long I'll last in these nether lands.

Say Yes & Go

A lot of people questioned why B- and I decided not to get married in the Netherlands. We seriously looked into it, and even visited several ceremony and reception venues. However, there was certain something that turned us off to the idea of a wedding in Holland- something we couldn't quite put our finger on until now.

Behold the newest concept in package weddings: Get married at the airport!



I'll give it to their marketing team, Schiphol Airport does a decent job of trying to make it less lame than it is. Their Web site details a handful of interesting packages, one of which includes a short flight in a vintage plane. Add to that expedited service through passport control and security screening, and the deal starts to sound a little sweeter.

However, it falls a bit short when you realize that your reception will be catered by an airport restaurant. Schiphol doesn't have a good culinary selection. No Legal Seafood in their departure lounge.

Hot Holiday Trends

B- and I were in Vienna this past weekend. What a great city! High, high, high on my list of recommendations. We're coffee junkies and since Vienna is the birthplace of the coffee house, we were on cloud nine.

One of the wonderful things about the German-speaking world is their love for Christmas. They really go all out in a way that is not cheap and commercial. Back in the 70s my parents spent four years in Nuremberg -- ground zero for German Christmas. They talk about it to this day. Vienna isn't quite into it as Bavaria, but we did visit about half a dozen Christmas markets complete with stands selling mulled wine and roasted chestnuts.

Browner than Pete

Back in Holland, most of the gift-giving happens on Sinterklaas Day, so starting in November our mailbox fills up with the same paper-wasting circulars we get back home. This holiday season Kruidvat (the Dutch version of CVS) offers these great gift ideas:

The Philips 15-watt face browner with a 60 minute timer. Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like the gift of skin cancer.


For those loved ones that are aware of the dangers of skin cancer, Nivea offers a fake tanner gift set. Kruidvat suggests that you'll be browner than Pete, you know Zwarte Piet, Sinterklaas' slave/friend.

The back story is that the Dutch are sun worshippers. When we learned that electricity would be included in our rent, I asked if there was a usage threshold where they would suddenly want us to kick in an extra few bucks (not so strange, this happened to me in college). The property manager said no, no problem unless we installed a tanning bed. We thought that was an odd thing to say until we realized that they were easily available in most appliance stores.

Indeed, preternaturally brown people abound all times of year, though mostly women. Add excessive smoking and intensely dry radiator heating to all the tanning and one finds that many Dutch women look much, much older than they are. It's a bit sad, really.

No Wii for Me

My quest for a Nintendo Wii has hit a snag. We got a call from our neighborhood video game shop where we'd put our name on the reserve list. The shop explained that Nintendo was only supplying them with 35 consoles for all of their three locations. Their supplier couldn't say when they'd be getting anymore. So instead of toughing it out like the rest of the shops in the world, this one decided that they're not going to stock Wiis at all - in protest or something.

We were somewhere in the range of 250th on the list, so we had no hope of getting a Wii anytime soon. I wonder how the first 35 people feel.

That's German for Six

I started seriously collecting airline miles a few years ago when I traveled to South Africa for work. I've since traveled to South America twice and once to Australia on BA affiliates. But my massive accumulation of airlines miles really got going when I applied for the BA Visa last year.

This, my friends, is the golden ticket. If you don't have a miles-earning credit card, you are, well, you're nuts. My trusty BA Visa has been the payment method of choice for my year of life changes. Just imagine what two new floors, airfare and honeymoon expenses can do for your frequent flyability.

A wise Economist article pointed out to me that frequent flier miles are not for saving, especially given the volatile nature of the airline industry. So, now I'm ready to cash in. To date, I have enough miles to afford B- and I three round trip tickets to any European destination. This begets the question: Where to?

So dust off your old photo albums and scrapbooks and lend a girl a hand. Where should we go?

The parameters:

• Places we've already been together: Belgium, Paris, London, and (soon) Vienna
  
• Much of Germany and Northern France are within easy reach by train/car, so no point wasting free airfare to get there.
  
• Think lesser-known, off-the-beaten-path destinations since it is easy to get cheap tix to Europe's major cities.
  
• We're definitely up for one winter sports spot.

Holiday Spirit

Well, it's that time of year again. Time to indulge in a bit of olie bollen and drink mass quantities of mulled wine.

You'll remember from my account last year that the holiday season in the Netherlands officially kicks off in November with the arrival of Sinterklaas. For a particularly entertaining take on Dutch Santa, check out the David Sedaris bit, "Six to Eight Black Men," set to scenes of a Sinterklaas parade, courtesy of YouTube.

Today, in fact, is Sinterklaas Day, when many Dutch people exchange holiday gifts. I know what I won't be getting, a Nintendo Wii. It's sad, I know, but the Wii has rekindled my enthusiasm for Christmas. I want one really, really bad. Like I wanted a Cabbage Patch Kid really, really bad. Like I wanted the first Nintendo system really, really bad. And the really, really sad thing is that there's no chance I'll get one before January. Waaah! It's 1986 all over again.

I know that many of you trip over my blog by way of unusual Google searches, but most of you know me. Because you know me, you also know that I LOVE video games. So, you know that sitting on my hands until January is nothing short of cruel and unusual punishment.

Perhaps not as cruel as this:

What Government?

Way way back in July, I may have mentioned something about the collapse of the Dutch government. Well, they finally got around to hosting their elections this week with an outcome that's no more certain than some recent U.S. elections.

At the moment, Europe basically has the same problem we do - a largely divided electorate. I mean, how long did it take for <tony voice>Aaangerlaaah</tony voice> to grab hold of power in Germany? If you even remotely cared about Italian politics, you'd know that their latest elections were a far cry from decisive. Tony Blair seems to be refusing to step down, but "The Economist" has been predicting his demise since the summer. France is still a question mark, but we all know they have issues.

The outcome of the Dutch elections, from what I can decipher of the labyrinth of acronyms, seems no better. The right-wing Christian Democrats seems to have held on to the "most" (not majority) seats in the 150 person parliament. However, the closest party to them ideology-wise did not win enough seats to form a majority coalition. The options: cozy up to extreme nutters on the farther right, or reach across the political divide to the socialists, who increased their standing from nine to a whopping 26 seats.

What to do? What to do?

Local papers are predicting a "long and difficult process" to form the government and may result in some kind of weird minority rule, which hardly sounds like representative democracy to me. The fact that extremists on both sides picked up seats won't make the process any easier.

The only thing we know for sure is that I don't have to learn to pronounce the name of a new prime minister.

Early Christmas

Who do I have to thank for today? Please let me kiss your toes.

First the Democrats take the House, and now we are inching ever closer to a victory in the Senate. But the icing on the cake -- oh sweet, sweet cake -- is this:

Rumsfeld to Step Down as Defense Secretary.

Finally someone in the Bush administration gets axed for a shitty job. About time.

House Cleaning

There's no secret to my politics. Since the last two election cycles brought me to tears and depression, I'm elated about the Democratic victory in the U.S. House of Representatives. I almost forgot what it means to win these things anymore. Now, if only Bill could run for prez again...

My only regret is that I voted in Texas, where my family presently lives, instead of Virginia where I lived for 10 years. Usually both states go to Republicans, so I thought it was a zero sum game. I apologize in advance if VA's up-for-grabs seat in the Senate goes to Allen. Since the infamous redistricting in Texas a few years back, I thought it was also important for me to help the Democrats hang on to at least one seat they already have in the house. So, I wasn't a total dumbass, mkay.

Seems the rest of the world feels as giddy as I do, so reports CNN.

Check out this particularly vicious paragraph:

In an extraordinary joint statement, more than 200 Socialist members of the European Parliament hailed the American election results as "the beginning of the end of a six-year nightmare for the world" and gloated that they left the Bush administration "seriously weakened."

Ok as much as I dis on my own president, I feel a bit more than a tinge of defensiveness over the statements of foreigners. It's ok if I piss in my own backyard, but hey man you stay on your side of the fence. It's also a bit tacky for foreign politicians to make public statements regarding the results of an election that isn't theirs. This is especially annoying coming from the puppet parliamentarians of the EU. How 'bout you get a real legislature and butt the hell out?

Nevertheless, victory is so sweet.

Irreconcilable Differences

I quit my job yesterday. Just like that.

The easiest way to put it is that it wasn't really the job I thought it was. I gave it three months or so, and decided that there was no point staying on.

I was dubious from the get go. When you are the first employee of a company, you really have to get along well with your boss. It's not that we didn't get along per se, but our personalities weren't a good mix.

This time, I'll take my time finding a good job. In fact, I don't really plan on looking for a new job straight away. I plan to freelance for a few months and take it a little easier. I need it.

Yukky Dutch Word of the Day: Pindakaas

So, tomorrow I leave to go get married. Just like that. Months and months of agonizing over where to have our wedding, wondering if our family and friends will hate us for making their lives difficult... It's strange that it will all be said and done in just an evening.

For those of you who didn't RSVP - I assume you aren't coming to South Africa at the last minute. If you are coming, you better tell me by tomorrow afternoon if you want the fish or the beef. I also need to order you a chair.

Anyway, in my absence I leave you all to ponder the Yukky Dutch Word of the Day: Pindakaas

To you and me, pindakaas is more or less peanut butter. That's alright except that literally it means "peanut cheese." I dunno why, but to me that transcends yukky and goes straight to gross.

Peanut cheese. Nasty!

BTW - Wikipedia has an entry on peanut butter that includes the origin of the Dutch word. Apparently, it would have been illegal to use the word butter to describe it. Typical.

People Are Strange

With less than a week to go before my wedding day, I feel like I'm having an out of body experience. It's weird to go about my usual routine when a major aspect of my life is about to change.

No, I'm not nervous or scared. I have not a single doubt. It just feels weird. It's probably because we're going away to get married, so the family isn't arriving en masse bringing with them all sorts of chaos, a la Pretty in Pink. It doesn't seem real yet. A year is also a long time to plan and think about something. You get used to the idea that it's "still months away."

So this out of body experience is really a bit more like I'm really hyper aware. In a way, I'm having a lot of "yogic" moments - that is to say that I'm noticing all the little things in life that you often overlook. My teachers would be proud because all I feel is the present moment, in spite of all the plans we're still making and all the little bits and pieces we're still chasing down.

And with my eyes wide open, these are the things I noticed this morning on my walk from Amsterdam Central Station to my office. All I can say is, people are weird:

-- a guy intentionally driving up on a curb, nearly running me over
-- a woman on a bike with a mini-skirt hiked up to her waist flashing hot pink panties
-- a car accident
-- about a dozen young, male tourists in Barney's coffeeshop (you smoke pot in coffeeshops here) at 9am

And also, why do some tourists wear high heels to go on walking excursions around the city?

I Sit Therefore I Bike

Nothing says "dork" like a recumbent bike.


This image was posted on Flicker and is actually of Edinburgh, but you get the idea. Imagine seeing one of these things in the middle of a crowded city.

Like I Said, Strongish

I have no excuse and yet one of the best excuses in the world... I'm sorry I've neglected you, faithful readers, but alas I've been busy. Not just any ole busy, but "trying to plan my wedding" busy. Not just any wedding, but a wedding that's a hemisphere away with a wedding planner who's idea of "planning" is to do it all at the last minute.

But... I was going to tell you about my new job.

So, I've left the world of do-gooding, environmentalism for a stint at shilling consumer products. I do feel a bit ashamed. I really wanted to stay on the righteous path with the rest of the high and mighty. On the other hand, you could say that I did pretty well considering that I barely speak the language of the country in which I live.

I had to give up on such crazy notions as continuing with non-profit work or focusing on a low-impact industry. I had to go, and go strong, for whatever I could get. I bought a new suit and actually practiced my interviews in the shower.

The sad truth is that I interviewed at: an oil company, a shipping/trucking company, and a Fox television channel (dude, that guy was really weird too). I declined to interview at a portal with a large porn collection. I dropped my name in the bucket for an internal communications position at a massive, and I mean massive, consumer products company. They were "overwhelmed with applicants." Oh well.

So, ending up at a teensy weensy marketing/advertising company (I'm employee number 1 or 2 depending on whether you count the owner as an employee) run by a British expat is not so bad, really. One might even say I'm lucky.

Setting aside the fact that we have only two clients, it's not a bad deal. I've always liked working at a start up. I have a lot of autonomy and my boss is really inclusive. No more silo. It's refreshing. On the other hand, it's a lot of time spent hanging out with one person... who has a big personality. On yet another hand, he buys me coffee and had someone come in the other day to give us head and neck massages.

It's like the good ole days of the .com boom. Some who read this blog might remember the muffins. ;)

Another plus is that my job is in Amsterdam, right in the Jordaan. My window looks out over the lovely Prinsengracht, the Princes Canal. Never mind the 45 minute train ride there and back, life is clearly better in Amsterdam. B- and I went to one party and managed to meet two climbers and someone connected to the yoga community. We could even have, uhm, what do you call that again? Uhm, uh. Oh yeah! A life. We could have one of those. Imagine that.

The commute is a drawback in so much as we are about an hour away from any friends we make.

Bugger.

So, what are we to do?

Move!

101 Posts and Still Going Strongish

In the spirit of sitcoms, for my 101st post we look back on the best and worst of the first 8 months of My New Dutch Life.

I began my adventure with Seriously Bad Weather which has proved to be the norm here. Isn't it funny how things just seem so novel in the beginning? As the last days of November 2005 passed by in near-total-darkness, I got an initial taste of the Dutch attitude towards smoking, which is to say that they must smoke at all times.

We celebrated the holidays a bit modestly as our furniture hadn't arrived from the States yet. We would have enjoyed the bit of snow were it not for the fact that my bike was stolen on Christmas Eve!

January was all about transition as we barely managed to survive New Years before having to struggle against the vagaries of the immigration system. Forging ahead, I signed up for Dutch lessons and our furniture arrived more or less unscarred by the trans-Atlantic journey. Nevertheless, the theft of B-'s bike, a mere 2.5 weeks after mine, put our mood at an all time low.

February and March started the mood (up)swing as I finally received my residence/work permit. Huge relief as I already had a job. Shhhh. Emboldened, we started to get out a bit more and enjoy our city. We even managed to get out of the lowlands for a road trip to the UK (you read that right).

In spite of my birthday, however, March went out like lion when I got word that I needed a root canal. Bugger that sucked. Boy, was I in for a big one - not only did it hurt like hell, but I got a taste of the infamous Dutch healthcare system.

June marked my final transition to My New Dutch Life when I decided to give up my American job. The hours and situation were just too difficult to cope with. In spite of my efforts to loaf around for a bit, I managed to land a job quite quickly and have been working since mid-July. Thankfully I got a few choice days off when our pal F- was in the area for the World Cup. I'm still feeling bitter about Italy, so let's agree not to talk about it.

I've also developed an obsession with urinals judging from not one or two, but three posts on the subject.

August has been a banner maand as I've been re-integrated into normal office life (will bring you all up to speed on the new job later). Generally, talking to more people during the day helps immensely. A hiking trip to Belgium doesn't hurt either.

So looking to the future, our "big day" is coming in less than a month followed by our two week honeymoon in Tanzania. And if that's not enough, our lease is up at the end of October, and we're seriously thinking about moving North towards (or into?) Amsterdam.

So, uhm, stay tuned and stuff.

Google vs. Holland

Found this gem on Expatica this morning:

Dutch googelen falls foul of Google

It seems that Google doesn't want people to use its brand name as a verb, and they recently sent their laywers out on a letter-writing campaign to quell this trend.

Now, I've been standing by Google for ages now, even as the sourgrapes gang has likened them to "the next Microsoft." I kinda thought they'd be flattered that a nonsensical word like Google would become common vernacular across the world. What kinda name is Google anyway?

Of course my question is: how do you conjugate googelen?

Ik googel
Jij googel
U googelt
Hij googelt
Wij googelen
Zij googelen ?

Gosh, when you conjucate it, it isn't even 'google' in Dutch.

No, Not Mickey

This morning we found a little mouse in our kitchen. Always un-nerving, but also unusual as we have a cat. Judging from Guy's prowess at catching crickets and other creep-crawlies, a mouse would be no match for him.

The poor little mouse was stumbling around and bleeding from his lower orifice. As we watched him die, we speculated that our neighbors must have set out a poisonous trap.

Frankly, this really upset me.

Rat poison is inhumane, especially as catch-and-release traps work fine. Setting out poison is also incredibly stupid as the animals have time to run and hide in the walls where they die (and decay) out of reach. We're lucky that we found this little one in our kitchen, but who knows how many others there are. I also worry what might happen if Guy were to catch a mouse dying from poison.

So, I might have to send B- knocking on doors to beg our neighbors to put away their poison. Since all four of the other tenants are girls and he's a guy with a charming Aussie accent, I think he makes for a better messenger.