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| Windmills of Weesp |
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Windmill of Weesp
We have more Australian visitors! At the moment we are enjoying a wonderful visit from Adam's Great Aunt Glad and her daughter Kerrie. It is very, very nice for me to have people to talk to during the week, and I'm going to be quite upset when they leave I think. Most of their visit has been taken up with the very exciting life in Eemnes, where a daily highlight is walking to and fro the local shops. Last Sunday Adam took us in the car to see a windmill, in the town of Weesp.
The Forest
A favourite Sunday afternoon activity for Edward is exploring in the forest near our house.
Here is a video of him.
Here is a video of him.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Dutch Supermarket Manners
It's Saturday afternoon and Edward and I have just returned from our local supermarket. I promised one of Adam's very nice Den Haag colleagues that I would write a positive blog entry about the NL. Warning: this is not going to be that entry.
Part One: Super de Boer in Laren
I do not know what it is with (some) Dutch people that they seem to think it is perfectly OK to push between a (heavily pregnant) woman and the pram (called a "buggy" over here) to snatch a carton of milk off the shelf. This actually happened to me yesterday afternoon at Super de Boer in Laren.
If the Dutch shopper would just wait 5 seconds or so, I could pick up our milk, move forward, and they can then pick up their milk.
For the benefit of any Dutch readers of this, the above is extremely rude behaviour. It not only makes the mother-child shopper scared that someone is about to abduct their child / steal the mobile phone, house keys, purse that are kept in the back pocket of the pram, it also is very effective at telling the mother-child shopper that they are getting in the way and should do their shopping somewhere else.
The problem is that I cannot boycott Super de Boer as it is the nicest supermarket in this area and I am already boycotting the local Boni (see part 2 below).
Part Two: The Boni Check-Out Chick
A few weeks ago (while our internet was broken, or I would have written about this earlier) I popped out to go to the larger local supermarket (the Boni) for the daily groceries. This is the supermarket that smells like a tip. It's cheap, which (was) its saving grace.
I collected the things for the day and lined up at the checkout. To my astonishment, when it was my turn to be served the checkout lady called out to another shopper (who was waiting in the queue at the next checkout) and waved her over. I had already started to load my goods onto the conveyer belt. The checkout operator stopped the belt and glared at me. Other woman pushed in front of me and unloaded her groceries, which were put through (other shopper and Checkout chatting vigorously).
Checkout operator then put my groceries through in complete silence (no greeting etc). She told me the amount due. I paid. She turned to the next person (no offer of receipt "Bon" over here. How weird I thought.
I left the shop, completely bemused and feeling really upset.
I was in tears by the time I reached the babyweighing place on the corner, and this turned to anger when I reached the marketplace. So I thought I would turn around, pointedly get my money back and redo the shopping in the other supermarket in this village. But she had not given me the receipt!
So I am getting my revenge by never buying anything from Boni again. I don't think they'll notice. With hindsight, maybe the other shopper was the best friend of the checkout chick? I don't know but an explanation would have been nice, rather than being barely tolerated at the checkout.
Part Three: The Co-Op Shoppers
Now for the final part - today's delightful experience at the Co-op (the only supermarket left in Eemnes where I will shop). I go in, choose some apples, a carton of milk and some revolting Dutch meat for stirfry - Edward needs some protein. Proceed to the checkout. No, no don't worry, checkout chick is lovely at Co-op. Pay for goods. Try to push stroller through so that I can leave.
The way is blocked by 2 cardboard boxes that are lying on the floor in front of the stroller. I take my pregnant stomach around the pram, pick up the boxes and put them slightly to the side. (This took me all of maybe 30 seconds or so.) I turn around.
A Dutch man has pushed the pram & Edward out of his way and is pointedly stuffing his groceries into a large plastic bag, hovering it near the shelf where he could put his bag if the pram was not there. The checkout lady is still putting his goods through and there is no-one else waiting. I feel a bit miffed that this stranger has (1) touched my pram with my baby in it, and (2) that he is so very close to my keys and mobile which are clearly in view in the back pocket. Thankfully my wallet was safe.
OK I tell myself, don't be oversensitive, just leave. So, with cardboard box with groceries under left arm, pushing Edward in pram with right arm, I head towards the exit. Can I get out? Oh no - a horde of Dutch people decide at that moment to shove their way in. In they come, past the heavily loaded pregnant lady. Don't worry about her, she can fend for herself.
Now I guess no Dutch person would think there was anything wrong with Part Three. But I tell you, this would NEVER happen in Australia, or in the UK. People would be ashamed of themselves. Leaving aside the pregnant with pram issue, it is quite basic manners for people who live in a community to let those people who are exiting, out first, and then enter. One would think in a country as crowded as the NL that this would be really normal.
I must say that we were "warned" in our Dutch class about Dutch "manners". Well, the teacher told us that in the NL it is considered "sexist" if you do something like hold a door open for another person. She called it equality. I call it selfishness. The Dutch attitude actually extends to no-one helping me last week lift Edward in his pram up 3 steps into a tram in Den Haag. I am obviously pregnant - some women are at full term with the tummy I have now. It is not healthy for a pregnant woman to lift pram plus 17 month old toddler up stairs.
What our Australian Dutch teacher didn't say is that this place is without those little social rules that make an individual's daily life better.
Part One: Super de Boer in Laren
I do not know what it is with (some) Dutch people that they seem to think it is perfectly OK to push between a (heavily pregnant) woman and the pram (called a "buggy" over here) to snatch a carton of milk off the shelf. This actually happened to me yesterday afternoon at Super de Boer in Laren.
If the Dutch shopper would just wait 5 seconds or so, I could pick up our milk, move forward, and they can then pick up their milk.
For the benefit of any Dutch readers of this, the above is extremely rude behaviour. It not only makes the mother-child shopper scared that someone is about to abduct their child / steal the mobile phone, house keys, purse that are kept in the back pocket of the pram, it also is very effective at telling the mother-child shopper that they are getting in the way and should do their shopping somewhere else.
The problem is that I cannot boycott Super de Boer as it is the nicest supermarket in this area and I am already boycotting the local Boni (see part 2 below).
Part Two: The Boni Check-Out Chick
A few weeks ago (while our internet was broken, or I would have written about this earlier) I popped out to go to the larger local supermarket (the Boni) for the daily groceries. This is the supermarket that smells like a tip. It's cheap, which (was) its saving grace.
I collected the things for the day and lined up at the checkout. To my astonishment, when it was my turn to be served the checkout lady called out to another shopper (who was waiting in the queue at the next checkout) and waved her over. I had already started to load my goods onto the conveyer belt. The checkout operator stopped the belt and glared at me. Other woman pushed in front of me and unloaded her groceries, which were put through (other shopper and Checkout chatting vigorously).
Checkout operator then put my groceries through in complete silence (no greeting etc). She told me the amount due. I paid. She turned to the next person (no offer of receipt "Bon" over here. How weird I thought.
I left the shop, completely bemused and feeling really upset.
I was in tears by the time I reached the babyweighing place on the corner, and this turned to anger when I reached the marketplace. So I thought I would turn around, pointedly get my money back and redo the shopping in the other supermarket in this village. But she had not given me the receipt!
So I am getting my revenge by never buying anything from Boni again. I don't think they'll notice. With hindsight, maybe the other shopper was the best friend of the checkout chick? I don't know but an explanation would have been nice, rather than being barely tolerated at the checkout.
Part Three: The Co-Op Shoppers
Now for the final part - today's delightful experience at the Co-op (the only supermarket left in Eemnes where I will shop). I go in, choose some apples, a carton of milk and some revolting Dutch meat for stirfry - Edward needs some protein. Proceed to the checkout. No, no don't worry, checkout chick is lovely at Co-op. Pay for goods. Try to push stroller through so that I can leave.
The way is blocked by 2 cardboard boxes that are lying on the floor in front of the stroller. I take my pregnant stomach around the pram, pick up the boxes and put them slightly to the side. (This took me all of maybe 30 seconds or so.) I turn around.
A Dutch man has pushed the pram & Edward out of his way and is pointedly stuffing his groceries into a large plastic bag, hovering it near the shelf where he could put his bag if the pram was not there. The checkout lady is still putting his goods through and there is no-one else waiting. I feel a bit miffed that this stranger has (1) touched my pram with my baby in it, and (2) that he is so very close to my keys and mobile which are clearly in view in the back pocket. Thankfully my wallet was safe.
OK I tell myself, don't be oversensitive, just leave. So, with cardboard box with groceries under left arm, pushing Edward in pram with right arm, I head towards the exit. Can I get out? Oh no - a horde of Dutch people decide at that moment to shove their way in. In they come, past the heavily loaded pregnant lady. Don't worry about her, she can fend for herself.
Now I guess no Dutch person would think there was anything wrong with Part Three. But I tell you, this would NEVER happen in Australia, or in the UK. People would be ashamed of themselves. Leaving aside the pregnant with pram issue, it is quite basic manners for people who live in a community to let those people who are exiting, out first, and then enter. One would think in a country as crowded as the NL that this would be really normal.
I must say that we were "warned" in our Dutch class about Dutch "manners". Well, the teacher told us that in the NL it is considered "sexist" if you do something like hold a door open for another person. She called it equality. I call it selfishness. The Dutch attitude actually extends to no-one helping me last week lift Edward in his pram up 3 steps into a tram in Den Haag. I am obviously pregnant - some women are at full term with the tummy I have now. It is not healthy for a pregnant woman to lift pram plus 17 month old toddler up stairs.
What our Australian Dutch teacher didn't say is that this place is without those little social rules that make an individual's daily life better.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Dijkfest
Ten to seven on a Sunday evening.
We should be enjoying the relaxation and quiet of sleepy Eemnes on a Sunday. This is the place where the only thing that is open is the church (at the end of our street). But no. It is Dijkfest here, which is (I think) an event that is unique to Eemnes. Inmates of Eemnes have been encouraged to put up artwork in their front gardens. There are several themes - Dutch flags, orange things, clogs, lots and lots of dairy cows. A welcome delight is the naked (male) garden gnome.
Another part of Dijkfest is musical. This unfortunately occurs in a huge pavilion that has been set up one block from our house, and in the Eemnes Jazz Night Club, which is less than 50 metres away from our house on the same block.
Hence our house is currently being bombarded with the sounds of an atrocious brass band, interspersed with a man bellowing something (in Dutch) on a microphone. This is due to some event being held in the pavilion.
I think this is slightly worse than the "Kinderfest" which was held last Wednesday, starting at 12.30, just when Edward fell asleep for his afternoon nap. Kinderfest consisted of Yelling Microphone Man for 20 seconds or so, followed by the sounds of dozens of screaming, cheering Dutch children, followed by Yelling Microphone Man... and so on for an hour or so. Thankfully once Edward is asleep, he is asleep.
The last two nights we have been subjected to Free Jazz Concerts (starting at 9pm and continuing with no break at all until the early hours of the morning). These are so loud that it sounds like we have the radio on too loudly inside our double glazed house. I am hoping that we don't have a third night of Jazz because my temper is wearing extremely thin. I've spent too many hours in the last 48 hours lying in bed, desparately tired, being subjected to some idiot singing their lungs out, and wondering if it would be possible to take matters into my own hands and cut the electricity supply to the Eemnes Jazz Night Club.
We should be enjoying the relaxation and quiet of sleepy Eemnes on a Sunday. This is the place where the only thing that is open is the church (at the end of our street). But no. It is Dijkfest here, which is (I think) an event that is unique to Eemnes. Inmates of Eemnes have been encouraged to put up artwork in their front gardens. There are several themes - Dutch flags, orange things, clogs, lots and lots of dairy cows. A welcome delight is the naked (male) garden gnome.
Another part of Dijkfest is musical. This unfortunately occurs in a huge pavilion that has been set up one block from our house, and in the Eemnes Jazz Night Club, which is less than 50 metres away from our house on the same block.
Hence our house is currently being bombarded with the sounds of an atrocious brass band, interspersed with a man bellowing something (in Dutch) on a microphone. This is due to some event being held in the pavilion.
I think this is slightly worse than the "Kinderfest" which was held last Wednesday, starting at 12.30, just when Edward fell asleep for his afternoon nap. Kinderfest consisted of Yelling Microphone Man for 20 seconds or so, followed by the sounds of dozens of screaming, cheering Dutch children, followed by Yelling Microphone Man... and so on for an hour or so. Thankfully once Edward is asleep, he is asleep.
The last two nights we have been subjected to Free Jazz Concerts (starting at 9pm and continuing with no break at all until the early hours of the morning). These are so loud that it sounds like we have the radio on too loudly inside our double glazed house. I am hoping that we don't have a third night of Jazz because my temper is wearing extremely thin. I've spent too many hours in the last 48 hours lying in bed, desparately tired, being subjected to some idiot singing their lungs out, and wondering if it would be possible to take matters into my own hands and cut the electricity supply to the Eemnes Jazz Night Club.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
September already!
Happy first of September everyone!
We're in the middle of a very relaxing Saturday. So far we've had 2 big Skype sessions with Adam's family in Newcastle, done the weekend's supermarket shopping and an awful lot of websurfing.
On that note, I think I have developed an internet addiction. I love reading blogs of other expatriate housewives, some of them make great reading. I'm also addicted to looking up recipes as we left all our cooking books in Australia. And we realised last week that the Cook & the Chef can be downloaded and watched on the internet. Fabulous! We were going to have another Cook & Chef episode today, as a Saturday treat, but the ABC website is down. Oh well, I'll try again later.
Now about our internet. Our internet (which is provided 'free' via our neighbours - the "Gs" - who are also the son & daughter-in-law of our extortinate landlord). It managed to be broken all last week. Every time I tried to log on I got an error message (in Dutch) that said there was a security problem.
It's great being married to someone who works in IT. Adam managed to get me into gmail, which was very nice, and he also found a sneaky way to log into his work system but that was for emergencies only.
And we couldn't bother the neighbours about the internet being broken because Mrs G's mother died the week before and I hear her yelling at her children every afternoon. She is wearing full black and it would have been tasteless (and a bit scary) to complain about the internet. So we waited, and waited... and to my delight, yesterday it fixed itself.
Oh dear, Edward has now developed the ability to remove his nappy. He has just trotted over and handed the offending article to me and is running around stark naked. It's good that the house has wooden floors, and that we are only renting it!
Happy September everyone, it feels like a big milestone for me as September is a whole month closer to when we go home.
We're in the middle of a very relaxing Saturday. So far we've had 2 big Skype sessions with Adam's family in Newcastle, done the weekend's supermarket shopping and an awful lot of websurfing.
On that note, I think I have developed an internet addiction. I love reading blogs of other expatriate housewives, some of them make great reading. I'm also addicted to looking up recipes as we left all our cooking books in Australia. And we realised last week that the Cook & the Chef can be downloaded and watched on the internet. Fabulous! We were going to have another Cook & Chef episode today, as a Saturday treat, but the ABC website is down. Oh well, I'll try again later.
Now about our internet. Our internet (which is provided 'free' via our neighbours - the "Gs" - who are also the son & daughter-in-law of our extortinate landlord). It managed to be broken all last week. Every time I tried to log on I got an error message (in Dutch) that said there was a security problem.
It's great being married to someone who works in IT. Adam managed to get me into gmail, which was very nice, and he also found a sneaky way to log into his work system but that was for emergencies only.
And we couldn't bother the neighbours about the internet being broken because Mrs G's mother died the week before and I hear her yelling at her children every afternoon. She is wearing full black and it would have been tasteless (and a bit scary) to complain about the internet. So we waited, and waited... and to my delight, yesterday it fixed itself.
Oh dear, Edward has now developed the ability to remove his nappy. He has just trotted over and handed the offending article to me and is running around stark naked. It's good that the house has wooden floors, and that we are only renting it!
Happy September everyone, it feels like a big milestone for me as September is a whole month closer to when we go home.
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