Making a (Mostly) Passable Attempt at Being Dutch

Well, I would first and foremost like to say that my one year anniversary of dating my very handsome and rogue-ish boyfriend, Jonathan, is this Monday, and being in a foreign country and having weird time schedules (he doesn't get home from class till 5 - which is 11 my time - making it kind of tricky to talk) is not making me the happiest camper at the moment. However! Such is the nature of separation across oceans. The good news is, we're a strong couple, and there is a lot to distract a young traveler such as myself in the meantime. Currently, I am eating dried apricots with nutella, which is really, really good, and I am getting ready to go to Rotterdam, which is sort of in the southwest of Holland (from me, anyway). You can check out my "Links, Winks, and Hijinks" page for info on the art festival I'm going to - it's contemporary art (like, look at this toilet, sitting in this courtyard, doesn't it just totally represent the decay of humanity in the vast void of the world?), so I'm not sure I will like it, but I'm going with a bunch of the other Fulbright girls, so that will be fun.

In other news, the past few days have been interesting. On Thursday, I went to this giant, old building next to the famous Utrecht Cathedral (Dom Tower) to watch as one of my lab mates, Bram, gave his thesis defense. It was really interesting - in Holland, the whole proceeding is very formal - people kept comparing it to a wedding. The person giving the defense chooses two basically "best men," (though in this case they were both female) who are colleagues, or friends, or relatives, and then those two plan, like, the invitations to the defense, and the invitations/arrangements for the reception after the defense, and then later that night, a dinner party at a local restaurant for the family and friends of the person who gave the defense...Isn't that so much more complex than American defenses? The defense itself was all in Dutch, which was almost completely lost on me, unfortunately, but Bram became a doctor at the end, and it was quite relaxed, really, and I was very proud of him, even though I've only known him for about a week. I might have even cried a little when he received his red doctor scroll thing, but, as anyone who knows me well will tell you, I cry when commercials come on with sad, emotional music. It's funny, because I can kick someone's butt if need be, I can deal with almost any crisis involving injury, and I can be a real hard ass when it comes to planning things, but every time a commercial comes on, with like, a dad spreading Jiff on a peace of toast with his son, I just can't help but get a little choked up.

So, after Bram's defense, we all had cookies, and coffee, and went on our merry ways. Friday, I took a nice long train ride out to a city called Rijswijk, which is located in B.F., Holland, if you ask me, and went to the Immigration Department to officially register as someone staying in the Netherlands longer than three months. And was asked, AGAIN, with an incredulous smirk, "So, you had the (insert name of special sticker here) waiting for you in D.C., and you didn't go get it??" And when I respond, "No, no one told me to go get (incredibly frustrating and stupid, STUPID sticker) in D.C. That's a really long trip. It should have been made more clear to me that it was necessary for me to go," I get the same look that says, "Ha, yeah, right, trying to cover your ass for forgetting, most likely." Which is not FREAKING true. Agh. So, anyway, I went to Rijswijk really early in the morning and didn't leave in the best mood. I mean, everything is resolved, paper-wise. I now have a very pretty and complicated NEW sticker in my passport, and I have to wait three weeks for a letter saying I can "officially" work. I'm just pissed at the constant assumption that I'm lying. Whatever. For now, it's the grind at home, I suppose.

After my delightful appointment with the immigration people, I went to the city hall in Utrecht, where I received my "burgerservicenummer," which is basically a Dutch social security number, which makes me partly Dutch for life. Hence the title of this post, because while I'm still not allowed to work until I get that letter, I am now endowed with a piece of Dutchery (namely, a social security number) for life.

After leaving the Gemeente (Town Hall), I went back to my district (Lombok) and bought all the ingredients to make the dishes you can find on my "Links" page. I just started piling all this produce on the counter, and I was like, thinking in my head, okay, I hope this isn't too much money (I put up there, like, four pounds of apples, an onion, some peppers, a bundle of cilantro, some limes and lemons, and some garlic), and he just started ringing it up, and when he was done, he was just like, "3 euro, alsjeblieft (please)." And I was totally shell shocked. And I just reached into my wallet and pulled out three euro, and went on my way, my bike bags bulging with produce. I love living in this neighborhood. All of these little shops are owned by Muslim families (and while we can talk later about how sometimes I don't exactly get the most pleasant looks from the shop owners, being white, American, and without a head-covering), the prices are really good, and business is business. All of the shops have produce outside, and inside, a huge selection of tahini, olives, feta, mozzarella, couscous, dried fruit, etc. Basically, all of the kinds of food I love, displayed deliciously around the stores. This little area (Kanaalstraat/Lombok) also has a nifty plant/flower store, where I bought a beautiful ivy plant for 3 euro. They love flowers here. They sell them everywhere. Flowers and shoes. Which is funny, because, what do people think of when they imagine Holland? Tulips and wooden shoes. Well, in this, the Holland of Today, there are tons of shoe stores and a plethora of flower stalls, shops and stands. So, there you go. Same idea, different manifestation.

I'm off to take the train to Rotterdam, and try and enjoy the...art festival (I'm sure I'll probably end up loving it), I'll post pictures later. If there is a toilet...Well, let's just say I will be greatly amused.