Giving Thanks

The occasion of Thanksgiving recently passed, reminding me to be grateful for so many things, a few of which are family, health and education. And, in a world where the latter two are hardly possible without money, I must give thanks for my material prosperity. For this Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship.

It is interesting the types of conversations I have with Dutch students about finances. They have far less expendable money than people I know in the States, and yet, they do not have to worry about paying for the things that cost Americans both arms and legs: education and healthcare. The Dutch government (which is becoming more conservative) is now raising the cost for a second masters degree so that it will be extremely expensive (by Dutch standards) to procure one after next year. Students are irate. They have always considered it a given that they will be able to get two masters degrees after their bachelors (practically for free!) It costs around 1,200 euros to get a masters here, if you are from the European Union. With a world-class masters program costing that much in the U.S, I could afford to save up for several. In America, I tell my roommate, I can regularly save up for new technology: a laptop, phone, camera, what have you. But I could never save up for a degree. Here, it is the reverse, my roommate does not have to foot the cost of a university education and yet she would rarely have the expendable money for a new phone upgrade or new laptop. And so, this is all to say, I AM GRATFUL FOR THIS ROTARY SCHOLARSHIP. Grateful, the word, hardly covers it. How blessed I am. I am also thankful for poetry, like the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Mary Oliver, who writes “Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life?” in her book New and Selected Poems. And, in this same vein, Oliver has another great quote, it goes: “Listen. Are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?” Meaning, how much more could you be doing to have an amazing existence?


Lately I have been doing yoga in Holland. Running and yoga are somewhat of the antithesis of each other. For a bit of background, in high school and during my undergraduate years, I ran often. Now I am inflexible and have stiff knees which makes yoga hard. However, my Dutch roommate, Lidy, introduced me to a yoga class in Holland where you do yoga in a heated room. It is called bikram yoga. The benefit of this is that it is easier on your joints, they relax more easily— and you get a really good workout ( you are sweating before you even lift an arm.) After class you can walk outside on the porch and stick your feet in a bucket of snow-water. It sounds dreadful, but is really fantastic. For an hour and a half you stretch and do nothing but breath deeply through your nose. This breathing is also contrary to normal exercise breathing. While running, I breath in through my nose, out through my mouth. This breathing makes your more competitive and puts you into a gung ho, ready for action mindset. Like you want to win a race. Yoga breathing is the opposite of that.

Yoga breathing reminds me that there is an astonishing amount of space in our lungs for breath—the majority of which we never utilize. And so, too, we have manifold dreams that we never explore, a half-dozen ambitions we never speak out loud, a book of wonderful musings that we never bring to fruition or allow ourselves to dwell on.

It is an interesting time of year. Thanksgiving has passed. The Jewish New Year happened in September; (the time we give thanks and plan things we will do better in the new year) and it is not January 1st yet. But, today I will be grateful, and today I will take charge and take fruitful risks. Whether it is hosting a dinner get-together for my newfound Dutch friends, biking through the Dutch hillsides or exploring parts of Europe, I believe I will try to do something everyday that makes me a bit afraid, as Eleanor Roosevelt reportedly suggested everyone do with their days. I’ll try to remain on the edge. And remember to breath deeply.

You Know You're An American When...

you have a credit card(s)
you buy enough food to last for weeks at the store and then realize you cannot fit it into your bike bags
you eat everything with your hands
you ignore the knife
you feel an affinity for McDonald's even when you don't eat there (they are one of the few places with a wireless internet connection!)
you loath Dutch bureaucracy, following rules, standing in line, and getting little slips of paper with a number on it that says wait
you walk in the bike lane
you are surprised by the taste of fresh bread
you put lots of milk and sugar in your coffee or drink cafe lattes (spelled coffee verkeerd in Dutch which literally translates to "wrong coffee")
you say you all and you guys a lot (which the Dutch consider very informal)
you wear sweatpants and a t-shirt to class and baggy pants if you are a guy (Dutch casual is less casual than American casual)
you suddenly find yourself craving the brands Skippy, Heinz and Hershey
you find it strange that at some pools they have a specific time when Dutch people can swim nude…
you think all Dutch people are extremely tall
you do not find it odd to eat cereal or a sandwich for breakfast, lunch and dinner all in a day (if you are a student...)
you feel the need to give presents all the time and buy lots of things
you use the words "university" and "college" interchangeably
you took a test (the SATs) to get into college (in Holland the testing takes place in high school, and you are then placed into differing high schools. If you do well at whatever high school you went to, you get your pick of practically any university in the Netherlands, with some exceptions made for disciplines like medicine.)
your biggest expenses are university and healthcare
there is a big disparity between the rich and poor in your nation
there is a big difference between "good" and "not-so-good" universities in your country
You "hook-up" or speed-date with people (Most people have steady relationships and do not change partners like American university students)
you wear flipflops when it is too cold to do so
you are afraid of public speaking and are awed at the debating, public speaking and rhetorical prowess of all Dutch people
people think you are fat before they see you (some Dutch people believe this from watching lots of fat Americans on TV)
Dutch people think you live like stars on reality television (the most common images of “American culture,” stuff from shows like My Sweet Sixteen, a television show about millionaire’s kids having extravagant sixteenth birthday parties, and the show Teenage and Pregnant, about well, you guessed it, pregnant American teenagers… )
you realize that you have fewer books than most Dutch families
you have never heard of the wonders of “hagelslag”

You Know You are Dutch When (you write you are, instead of you're...)

you know the term "pin it," because you only have an ATM card and not a credit card
you bike in a skirt and dress or suit and tie
you go to the store everyday and only buy enough groceries for meals for that day
you have never tasted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or if you do, find it odd
you think it is normal to see uncensored naked bodies on television
you always use two forms of birth control
you might think of getting married when you are 30
healthcare and university costs come out of your taxes for the most part and the government gives you a student card for most transportation and pays for birth control
you have a pot of orchids in your house
you have at least three bicycles in your garage
you will have at least one master's degree by the time you are twenty-six
you speak at least three languages conversationally
you drink coffee or tea at least once a day
you cut up your pizza with a knife and fork
you have a birthday calendar hanging in your bathroom where you record all important birthdays
you live in a small house or apartment (by American standards)
you have no car or a small car (again, by American perceptions)
you have a communal playground near your house
you biked to school and will bike to university
you only call elementary school and high school "school" (Americans call university "school" as well)
you were tested in high school to see which high school you would go to. Your English competency is sometimes better if you go to the higher level school, but everyone speaks English conversationally, if not better than many Americans
most all universities are made equal in your country, though some universities are known for certain programs, all universities are strong
you work part time or stay at home if you are a woman (this is pretty common)
you are a pragmatic dater (you think about the long-term and whether the relationship would work out)
you dress conservatively in the gym, covering up way more than Americans
you dress more conservatively in clubs than Americans
you wear a lot of black, white and grey
you do not make physical contact with people when dancing (in America guys are all over girls they have never met)
you are freaked out by hugs (you find hugging far more intimate than kissing three times on the cheek)
if someone tries to hug you, you turn to the side to avoid frontal contact
you play at least three sports
you have visited California
you want to have an internship in New York
you smoke
you know what “hagelslag” is and put it on your toast in the morning

Autumn Wheels

Close up of bike wheel in leaves



Rock-proof baby carrier



Ah, this is my bicycle. If you go to the center of Utrecht around 5:00, you can buy flowers when the flower stalls are closing-up for the night. You get more flowers for less. This night I wanted a few sunflowers. Eager to get rid of their stash and replenish it in the morning, the flower sellar gave me about twenty-five sunflowers. The bundle was too unwieldy to bike with under my arm (what most Dutchies do) so I had to tether them to the back of my seat with my orange scarf.



Jewish bike. I found it sort of funny that someone left their yarmulke (the most commonly recognized piece of jewish garb) beside the bike on the railing overlooking the canal. One puff of wind and...it might have gone sailing



Yellow and blue contrast with bikes



Heineken is manufactured in Holland. I have not been to the headquarters, but they are located in Amsterdam. Heineken is the prefered beer here. Though I prefer wine, most young people opt for beer. Their parents drink wine with most meals. Wine is far cheaper here and it can be bought in greater variety than in most American grocery stores. There is plenty of wine that can be bought for two euros a bottle. (Don't worry Rotary, I drink in moderation. ) :)



Autumnal bike



Bike prank: One often sees bikes, still locked to the railings, that have been turned on their wheel or are hanging off into the canal. Each year they have to dredge the canals for bikes. I am told they pull up hundreds...



Fall-hued bike



Action bike!



I guess bikes are not permitted here...


Graffiti is fairly common in the Netherlands. It seems to be more artfully crafted than the graffiti I have observed in the United States. Most often, the graffiti appears on construction sites (the wood planks and scaffolding surrounding buildings) and not on the buildings themselves.

Suiker Addict

Food can illuminate lots about the region it is served in. Belgian chocolate. French wine. Chilean sea bass.American…Sugar?

By Dutch standards, I’m a sugar (suiker) addict. It’s not my fault, I plead! In the U.S, sugar goes into food without our knowledge. When I bought peanut butter here last week, I discovered for the first time what actual smashed peanuts taste like—absent sugar. Then I realized how much sugar must be in American peanut butter. Probably a cup. Here, the contrast between food modified by sugar and the real thing is made grossly apparent.

Before Europe, I would not call myself a sugar-lover. Let me tell you about my childhood: whenever I went to birthday parties I was taught to ask for water and decline soft drinks, which were disallowed in my house; sugary cereals were off-limits (except lucky charms which I love, and were given as a treat.) However, to be an American, along with liking everything supersized, is to be addicted to sugar (unless you grow all your own food and make ketchup from scratch.) We cannot help it that everything we eat is loaded with saccharine—even the things we think are healthy. Think of all the ingredients on the label that you have never heard of…

About the only cereal here that I can find at home is Raisin Bran. And even that is different—bits of dried banana, apple and nuts compliment the flakes. And this: the raisins have no dusting of sugar. What!? No sugar? It never dawned on me that Raisin Bran could be any other way. I never thought about the sugar before. Afterall, I thought I was chosing the healthy option from among the likes of tasty Fruit Loops and Coco Puffs. Like McDonalds, who tailors their menu to fit cuisine norms around the world, Kellogs cereal also adjusts.

It is scary to learn something new about your taste buds: they have been conditioned to expect the sweet. I feel bereft without juice each morning (most juice we drink in the States is not even pure juice I am learning…) I load my chai lattes, tea and coffee with either a spoonful of honey or sugar. The Dutch do not put honey in their tea or sugar in coffee.

To an American (me), natural cereal tastes like dog food. We consider food with less sugar, diet food, and inherently less tasty. Not only do Americans put sugar in our food, but worse, all sorts of sugar substitutes of which only chemists know the composition of. Perhaps we eat so much high fructose corn syrup because the government gives enormous subsidies to corn, thus helping to negate any original nutritional content.

And you wonder why Americans are obese. Experts around the country are scratching their noggins, trying to come up with highfalutin solutions to one of Americans largest killers. The answer is comically simple. What would American’s average body mass index look like if every morsel of food had fifty percent less sugar? Or 100% less, as seems to be the case over here. At first we would cry a bit. I’m missing sugar right now. (As we speak I am sprinkling sugar over my cereal.) Eventually though, I bet our bodies would adjust. Wish me luck.

Autumn Summary

This is an image of everyone crowding around the grocery store Sunday afternoon, waiting for 4:00 (called 16:00 here) when the doors will open. It looks like a party. People are ready to bust down the front door. The grocery store does not open until it is dark outside on Sunday. And that is only the largest grocery store in the area. No other shops are open all day on Sunday. You may ask, ‘But what if I want to cook a chicken?” Tough cookies. Sundays in Holland are quiet. And it is nice. At first I was frustrated, I wanted to go, go, go. Now, I appreciate the forced reverie. You cannot be frenetic on Sunday morning, you cannot do chores. Most Dutch young people do not go to church and most folks I have talked to are not very religious; however, a Protestant ethic influences many thing here. Even Albert Heijn—the largest supermarket chain in the Netherlands—is closed, except for a few locations.



Wind turbines on the horizon, spinning. A common site in Europe.



My friend Jitske making orange juice for breakfast. She is using an electric mixer; you can also use a hand squeezer which is easier to clean. When I first decided to make orange juice I made the mistake of buying the wrong oranges. Yes, that’s right, there are two types—oranges for eating and those for juicing. Now I know the difference: Get the green bag that says Perssinaasappelen. Try saying that ten times.



I’m clearly intimidated by the giant cow heads.



Lovely secret hedge garden in the North of Holland. The sky was a typical gray and rain was sheeting down, however, roses still bloomed brightly in the garden. Most leaves are off the trees now. The leaves her are a sad brown and yellow. They lack the luster of either West Virginia or New England autumn—the reds, golds, oranges. Also, there is no earthy, cinnamony, fall smell here. I miss jumping in a newly-raked pile of leaves!



This is a quaint wood-burning stove inside a café in Friesland, Holland. Again, that day it was drizzling rain and nothing felt better than this fireplace with a piece of apple pie and a café latte.



Taken during the same rainy day in Friesland, this shows a quintessential Dutch barn. It was built in the 1700’s and is still working. Note the roof: clay tiles. This roof, along with thatched roofs made from reeds are common in Holland. There is an abundance of clay here and almost all the homes are brick. Wood is hard to come by in this completely human-constructed country, where there appears to be mostly bogs and grasses.



Dutch style: I almost fell off my bike trying to take pictures of other people on their bikes. This girl epitomizes Dutch style. 1. She rides a bike. 2. Her right foot is raised, ready to speed off as soon as the light changes. 3. She wears practical flat shoes 4. A bike lock is looped around the base of her seat 5. Striped shirt. Today in class, four of fifteen people were wearing black and white striped shirts. I was wearing a black and blue striped shirt. What’s with the stripes? 6. On top of her shirt is a faux or real (probably faux since she is a student) black leather jacket that starts at her belly button. Also in vogue. 7. Side bag which is cooler to bike with in Holland than a backpack (note to self.) 8. A green purse is looped around her front handle bars. 9. She is eating a sandwich at the light (multi-tasking.) 10. She is blonde (a common hair color here.) 11. What is in her bag? To generalize I’m going to say, a date book, since everyone stays immensely busy and pencils in all their dates. And I’m going to guess she has two or more types of sport equipment inside since I have not met a single young person that does not do at least two sports (this does not count biking.) Rowing, jogging, field hockey, ice hockey, skating, swimming, rowing soccer, etc.



The Dom Tower: The tallest building in my town of Utrecht and my point of reference so I did not get lost for my first three weeks here.



Black sheep in Friesland. Zoe, my excellent friend at Brown, recently purchased an antique spinning wheel. I need to find some wool to send her…



Stone street flanked by a canal (most small streets are brick or stone) where I lock up my bicycle and go to class! My classes meet on the left side of the bridge.



Cheese in a wagon.



Cat inside a windmill. As for pets, it is common to have cats and dogs. However, you do not see stray dogs wandering, while you do see stray cats. There are lots in the fields, you see their little tails emerging from the high grass. I watched a show on television the other day that said in a cat’s lifetime she could have over a thousand kittens if not neutered.



Beautiful windmill



View of windmill from the bottom, looking up