In my blog I usually write about my positive experiences with my research or at least instructional experiences that I’ve had while living in the Netherlands. But this is a skewed and rather rose-coloured view of my life here since not all of my attempts at research are fruitful. This blog will be about an unsuccessful attempt at fieldwork - there are many more, trust me. Getting back into research this week one of the events on my to-do list was to attend a New Years party for the people living in Liskwartier (my neighbourhood) and Bergpolder (the bordering neighbourhood). I found out about this party through the neighbourhood newspaper and decided that I would go. This party began at 5pm and went until 8 so I intended to show up around 5.30 pm to be 'fashionably late' and make it home for a late dinner around 7.30. Having figured out where the party was located, I started off on foot and slipped and slided my way to the street. On the way I practiced some of the Dutch phrases that I thought I would use: "Hallo mijn naam is Jen en ik ben een onderzoeker uit Canada. Mijn onderzoek gaat over ‘hoe mensen in buurten komen samen in het dagelijks leven’." (Translation: hello, my name is Jennifer and I am a researcher from Canada. My research is about how people in neighbourhoods come together in everyday life).
Upon arriving, I walked down looking for the number but I couldn't find it. I walked north and south to see if the street continued which it did not. 'Think Jenn', I said to myself, 'it's got to be the biggest building on the block because they invited everyone out who lives in both neighbourhoods' and so I walked into my only option, the swimming pool. And there, tucked away behind the receptionist counter was in fact a small party! Mission accomplished, I had found it!
I walked up to join the group but right away found myself feeling a bit awkward and out of sorts. Although there were a lot of children playing, there were only a few adults and those adults who were there, were chatting in small groups of 2 or 3. Skirting the rambunctious children, I saw a man handing out what appeared to be a news letter. As he came around he skipped giving me one and so I followed him and asked if this was a letter about the New Years party? The only problem was (and this happens quite often) that he didn't understand me and deferred me to another woman standing beside him. She asked if I was looking for the New Years party and then proceeded to tell me (very quickly so I only caught half of what she was saying) that the majority of people were in another room listening to a presentation but that they would come back to the party after. I thanked her and went over to deliberate at the bar where there was a woman standing behind the counter looking a little less than enthused at the noise that the children were making.
I stood there not really knowing what to do next. Should I wait for the presentation to stop? The only problem was that I didn't know how long that would be. Did I know anyone there? Should I introduce myself to someone? I looked around to see if I recognised anyone from the activities that I've been volunteering for but I couldn't identify anyone. It must have taken me no longer than 30 seconds but it was then that I decided that I'd had enough and that I would go home, and so … I left.
It took me another 20 minutes to walk home that had more to do with the fact that it was treacherously icy terrain than the distance itself, and all the while, I was beating myself up for not making more of an effort to get out there! I did think about turning around and going back but then I thought how silly it might look if people from the presentation came out and I still did not recognise anyone. Although having more people in the room would allow me to blend in and mingle a little better, I guess I just wasn't up to finding out how long it would be for that group to join the party. So there you have it, it was a less than wonderful experience. I found out later that I would have known someone at the party since it was mentioned by one of the women I work/volunteer with during Friday bike lessons.
I’ve told myself that this experience has taught me to be a little more patient with my outings and I have promised myself to spend at least 10 minutes somewhere before I decide that I’ve had enough. Although this entry was about a less than thrilling account of my life here in the Netherlands, I think it shows that I have positive, negative, successful as well as unsuccessful experiences while living abroad. There’s always two sides to the coin, although I’m starting to think maybe there is still more sides to this yet!
No comments:
Post a Comment