Trying to Sample All the Right Food Groups

My friend Mer introduced me to some of his colleagues from Erasmus University today. Over lunches and coffees we discussed my area of research and I was provided with wise advice, new intriguing ideas, and came away feeling that there was a general interest in the outcome of my project. Needless to say, if enthusiam by academics were the method to which my thesis would eventually be judged, then I think things in the field would be going quite well so far! Finding one's niche in the academic world or the need for one's project in society is unquestionably a necessary step when focussing a PhD topic. I am however, starting to feel as though I'm living on a restricted diet. So as not to misinterpret what I'm trying to say here, I'm proud to say that I've made a few fantastic connections in the academic community here and that each and every one of these connections are very important to the outcome of my research. In short, I could not do it without them. Yet, I'm beginning to hanker for a vegetarian as oppose to meat dish, a fish delicacy instead of a salad, mash potatoes instead of fries (hold the Mayo, alstublieft). I'm hungry for sustinance of a different food group, as in, I would like to hold an interview with a real, live participant! Of course when this comes up in conversations, as it almost inevitably always does, I'm told the major hold-up in securing my first interviews is my inability to speak more than a simple conversation in Dutch. I have to say that I absolutely agree, the Dutch language is key. So for now, I will study hard everyday and wait to sink my teeth into something a little more tantilising in the future; these alternative dishes have become more tantalising not only because variety is the spice of life but most probably at the count of 18 days and running, I'm already getting restless!

The Ol' Three in One Play

I went to three festivals today, yes, three in one...talk about packing it in! First, I walked down Zwart Janstraat close to my house where they were holding the 'Route Noord' festival. This consisted mainly of shop owner's wares being brought out on the street in addition to other vendors selling things from blankets laid out on the ground. There were carnival rides, large RV-like vehicles selling food and drinks from open windows, and booths set up to demonstrate the magical powers of Oxyclean and squeeze mops. I was floored by the difference that this festival made to the regular Sunday tenor that I originally associated with this street. I remarked in one of my first posts after moving here how dumbfounded I was to find that all the shops on Zwart Janstraat (except for certain food and fruit shops) were closed on Sunday. I since learned that this is the case only in the smaller areas of town and that if one walks into the city centre, it is busier than on any weekdays. To walk down this normally sleepy street on this particular Sunday, you felt as though you were walking in the middle of town as people passed by, shoulder to shoulder, yelling out deals, with the smell of food wafting into the air. Everyone coming together.

From there I rode my bike down to the Blaak Maarkt where they were having a Boek Maarkt just outside the library. It was interesting to see the incorporation of the literary societies into the normal mix of market wares on the Blaak. This area was a little less packed but since it was bordering the city centre it still enjoyed a healthy group of people.

Off again, this time to a 'Seeds of Change Festival' at the Laurenskerk, which incorporated groups for peace, groups for social change - reduction of discrimination, and welkom groups for new individuals to Rotterdam. There was a band playing live salsa and other latin music on a stage and many people were dancing along on the cobbled stones, regardless of age or partner. These festivals were set against a beautiful backdrop of a sunshine and cloudless sky, remarkable in my opinion for such a late day in September, and I and the city revellers seemed to melt back into summer.

Strangers who are Less than Strange

During the last 17 days of living here in the Netherlands, I am often surprised at the number of times I have flouted one of my mother's most sacred rules that she bestowed on me as a child. That rule was: Never Talk To Strangers! Yet, I find myself searching the internet for them, handing out my contact information, and setting up dates to meet them at places that I've never been to before. This is not to say that I'm meeting up just any Joep, Toon, or Albert (good Dutch names!) in dark alleys at quarter past midnight, no. Instead, I've most recently set up a meeting with persons who have the same needs as I do - the need to learn a language!

Yesterday, I had my first meeting with Bun (I call her Bun because she has a bun in the oven). Bun works for a bank and would like to widen her English vocabulary and improve her ability to converse quickly. Her capabilities at English greatly outweigh my own at speaking Dutch however, we met over coffee and spent the first hour speaking in Dutch (most of the time I spent sweating...apparently the part in my brain used to speak a foreign language is connected to my perspiration glands), and the next hour in English. While we've only met once we've agreed to meet again this coming week and will do so until we find ourselves fluent, or more likely, until she has her baby.

I have to say, that overall, those people with whom I've met in person, only after conversing over email, have all turned out to be really positive encounters. This includes some of the odd meetings on the streets and happenstances that occur with no preconceived plan (like the Welkom Bag neighbour in the last entry). And although at times these meetings feel like a shot in the dark and were not a part of my originally proposed methodology, they have been more than valuable to my overall time here in Rotterdam. As the ever-wise QueenB said to me the other day, If you're not up for meeting strangers (every once and a while), then you shouldn't be doing fieldwork, and I agree. Strangers don't always have to be strange but don't worry mom, I'll still use the ol' common sense!

Official 'Welkom' to the Neighbourhood!

I had quite a slow day yesterday. I never left the flat all day as I decided to search the internet for English speaking jobs here in Rotterdam. My success at finding opportunities was, shall we say, excruciatingly minor and the process itself felt like I was wading up to my knees through a peat bog. Although it comes as no surprise, my overall feeling from yesterday's search is that it is very hard to find a job here if you don't speak Dutch. I acknowledge the limitations of this 'overall feeling' as it is based on one day's search of the internet and about 5 attempts to drop my resume off at shops advertising vacancies. This process however once again brought about the importance of learning the Dutch language in order to fully survive here (unless of course you're working for an international company - but these jobs tend to be full-time and are recruited from internal pools). It also made me wonder what happens to those who have limited funds upon arrival in the Netherlands and how they manage.

It was only when Pdot got home that I snapped out of my trance with the computer and went to the store to buy groceries for dinner (the recipe included ground meat and peanut butter...it was actually delicious! I swear! Ask Pdot!).

As I walked back I was stopped just outside my building by one of our neighbours. Although I believe the neighbour's position as welcome-representative is unofficial, he welcomed me to 'the Noord' (the North), which is the area that I live in, and gave me a bag that included a portfolio of welcome information (yes, all in Dutch), some fliers for businesses in the surrounding area, some cleaning tools, candies (black liquorice – yum!), tea, pens and pads of paper. I thought it was fantastic! This small offering gave me a sense of belonging to 'the Noord' and made up for some of the day's slow pace. Pdot told me that this neighbour helps out quite a bit in our neighbourhood, especially with the children (in fact as I was speaking with him a couple of little girls were banging on our front door calling to him to fix their bikes, “Mijn Fiets Meneer!”) and during local events that are held every so often in our neighbourhood. Although I wonder if all neighbourhoods are as lucky, this welcome helped establish me as a resident of the area and brought the idea of ‘home’ somewhere closer to the idea of Rotterdam, Netherlands.

The First Big Scare

I think there is a point in everyone's field research that something goes utterly wrong and the fate of one's project flashes before the researcher's very eyes. This 'first big scare' was nothing like that thankfully but something happened yesterday that could have turned my time here very sour. Yesterday was the first day since I've arrived that I did not make extensive plans in my schedule. Usually I'm off to markets, going to festivals, meeting with colleagues, or checking out museums - something/anything to get me out of the house and into the Rotterdam life. While all of this is extremely intriguing it's starting to make a real dent in my wallet (as a Canadian student on Canadian money I really have to watch this!) and so I decided to take a long bike ride yesterday afternoon to save some cash AND to get an idea of what biking culture is all about.

My roommate showed me a nice green area around a lake and we made a route that would take me all around the city. Everything began well as I cycled along the route. I came upon sporting facilities in the park, and rode by the beautiful lake and under wonderfully old trees. There was a petting zoo with deer and ducks and geese galore! Yet, I must have taken the wrong road at some point (probably looking at the deer too long) because I ended up coming out of the park at an earlier point than I was suppose to and I thought that I was at my proper destination. Thinking I was facing south (and not north like I was) I began to cycle into another suburb of Rotterdam and not down toward the Maasboulevard like I was trying to do. Getting lost in Rotterdam has become somewhat of a pastime for myself but I choose not to mind because I've heard it somwhere before that getting lost comes before being 'found'. Yet as I rode on and on, my slipup with the directions was becoming more and more apparent to me. So while on the bike I rummaged through my purse, which I had strapped to the back of my bike, to get out the map. I cycled on for a little bit and determined that I was indeed going the wrong way. No matter, I thought to myself, I had only gone about 10 minutes in the wrong direction and I had a bike to get me back. So I turn around and start cycling back around the gas station, across the intersection, under the bridges, when I conducted my once-every-5-minute check on my purse that was sitting on the back of my bike.

I don't think I'm a very obsessive person however the straps on the back of my bike are quite loose because they're old, and so I often check to make sure that my packages (which that day only included my purse) are indeed safely stowed on the back of my bike. The only problem was that when I went to check the purse, although it was there, it was missing a couple of important items because my purse had fallen to the side of my bike and things like my WALLET had passed out of it and were left on the path somewhere (around the gas station, across the intersection, and under the bridge) behind me.

It was time for panic and heart attacks as I made the realisation, turned the bike around and rode as fast as I've ever rode before back down the bike path. Now, this would not be life and death for myself or my project. I've come prepared with photocopies of all my cards and documents and while it would be extremely annoying thing to do, everything could be replaced. Yet it was just the thought of loosing something so important in such a stupid way (if it's stolen then fine! but out of my own stupidity! the horror!) that killed me. I stopped and asked another person on the path if they had seen a wallet, "is it quite large?" I said "yes!" thinking to myself I have a Kastanza Wallet? "Then yes, I think I saw something like that back at the first intersection", he replied. "Thank yoooouuu!" I called breathlessly as I dashed away on my bike to get back to the intersection which was approximately 3 minutes away. During that ride I passed other cyclists and everytime I did so, I would give them the hairy eyeball thinking to myself that each one had picked up my wallet and were going to enjoy and nice lunch on me! But as I rounded the last corner, to my utter relief, there sat my (rather large) wallet on the path in between the road signs and the cross walk just laying there seeming to say to me: Um...forgot something?

I retraced the entire length of the path that I had traversed picking up a pen and chapstick that had also fallen out in addition to my wallet. I've come to appreciate the honesty of those cyclists/motorists on the path that day and I've decided to buy a saddlebag for my bike if for no other reason than to lessen the chance of heart attacks while in the field. I continued on along my appointed route and even made it to the Maasboulevard and eventually home. The picture above is taken from a moment's rest along the Maas. It shows the two bridges of Rotterdam. Although quite tranquil, my day was anything but. For the 'first big scare' I know I got off light as everything worked out in my favour. As I was telling my friend QueenB, I hope that I haven't used up all my luck by getting the wallet back...but if that is the case, I'll have to make my own!

Eerst dag van mijn taalcurses

I went to my first Dutch language course today. Although I've been intensively self-studying for the past three month in Canada nothing prepares you for the many different accents, dialects and the speed of conversation once in the thick of things. I find that my brain needs an extra second to process what someone has just said but most of the time this pause prompts the speaker to say the phrase again but in a different way (and then I'm trying to figure out two phases instead of one) or they flip to English, which is useful at the time but not helpful when trying to learn Dutch. I feel thirteen-years-old again as I bumble through the day of embarrassing moments and slipups in the language (On one of the first nights we were out, I tried to tell one of Pdot's friends my name but instead told him that I loved him). This does not seem to be something that I am experiencing alone, however.

Today when I was trolling through a forum on the website http://www.expatica.com/ (dedicated to providing news and information for an international community), I came upon an article written in March 04th, 2009 concerning the new Dutch publicity campaign to have everyone living in the Netherlands for significant periods of time, be able to communicate in Dutch. The campaign which ran on the TV (I've seen it only once) targets foreigners (the ad used actors of colour and one woman wearing a veil to categorise the "non-speakers") to take on the responsibility of learning the Dutch language and I assume after that to feel/be more integrated into the Dutch community. What is most remarkable however, is the number of responses this article received from the expat community. 102 reactions in total have been logged, the most recent being posted on the 15th of September. For any one forum throughout the whole of the internet I think this is quite a sizable number. The popularity of this piece prompted the site to write a couple of more articles on the subject. When looking through the reactions the views are usually polarised between two camps: those who support the campaign or believe all immigrants should learn the native language of a country that they're moving to. In the other camp, although many saw the usefulness of learning the Dutch language while living in the Netherlands, they disagreed with process (or blame) being laid solely on the shoulders of the migrants.

I agree that learning the Dutch language is tough because it is a Germanic language and very different from English in its structure. As was also reiterated in some of the posts, finding a Dutch course right for myself was indeed very hard. There is however no excuses for lacking opportunities to practice as Dutch Is Everywhere!

From my own and others' experiences, it appears that the Dutch language and individuals' abilities (and inabilities) and apparent effort at trying to learn the language is a meeting point for debate amongst many different communities living here in the Netherlands. I just hope that I'll one day be able to use the classic language-course phrase: "De kaas is oud en beschimmeld" or "the cheese is old and mouldy."

Ode to my Bike

Fast machine you let me ride so tall,

In a country where I'm considered small.

You mess my hair up in every way,

But your economically saavy-so it's okay.

You have two lights and one working chain,

By using you, the weight I will not gain.

I think cycling is the only way to see,

How the Netherlands came to be.