Transitional Life: Housing

Posted on May 21, 2013 by visitingmissouri

My move is getting closer. In less than two months, I’ll be making the big leap. From then on, I’ll be living in the United States. So hang in there, just a few weeks. As my time of departure is getting closer, I get to see differences in culture that I didn’t notice before, or maybe I cared too little to realize how big a difference they actually make. One of those differences concerns housing. As miss Missouri and I are looking for a house, I am getting familiar with all aspects of selecting and buying a house. Also, when I say that we are looking, it means that I’m doing all I can from behind my desk exactly one Atlantic Ocean away.

Someone actually took the time to build a Dutch and American house next to each other.

The differences strike me at a few points. First of all, houses in the Midwest are generally bigger. If you’re Dutch and under thirty, nine out of ten times you live in an apartment. If you’re married, this apartment could have more than a living room, a bathroom and a bedroom; just don’t count on it, though. Although this isn’t the worst adjustment (I can imagine the other way would be worse), I still have to get used to the idea of someone my age actually living in a house that’s big enough to play hide and seek in. Also, I never thought I would ever be worried about something the novelty that is school districts. Not since I was picking one of three high schools on walking distance (that’s also really special over here) did I care about what schools were in the area, but now I find myself ticking of boxes that relate to elementary school, middle school and high school. Aside from other things that are new when buying a house, the school districts are something that are hard for me to wrap my mind around, as I’m used to the idea that you have a choice. You could say I’m actually pro-choice when it comes to schools. I don’t know how these differences will shape my life later on. In the end, I think what makes a home doesn’t really change between cultures, but what it takes to get there certainly does.

Does anyone else feel that middle schools are really the middle child of the school system?

The American Man In A New Habitat

Posted on May 7, 2013 by visitingmissouri

I enjoy sports. I like watching a game, almost any game, in which people look for their own limits and try their hardest to go beyond them. Also, I’m really glad that I can do so from well within my own comfort zone. I don’t mind to work out or play a physical game every once in a while, but I know my physical limits and tend to keep them exactly that (after all, that’s why they were limits in the first place). However, I don’t think I like watching sports as much as American society. There is not a moment when sports aren’t forced on you (again, the comfort zone version). Not just is a random team jersey an accepted part of the daily attire of the American people, but even gender roles and neatly carved out around the idea of watching a game.

This is not a stereotype. I’m pretty sure she is watching her husband do the laundry outside.

American airports, or at least the ones where I tend to show up (it’s not that many), have a habit of showing football games every time I am going back home (late summer and mid-January). As I am preparing myself for Missouri in many ways, including writing papers on Lincoln and the Civil War in the context of my study, I see it as important to understand American football. Another important factor in my choice of watching football is that I’m always at least five hours early at the gate and as there are more hours of travelling ahead than my books are able to cover, I position myself right under a speaker and at a convenient distance from the television. As more and more people drop in, I have seen a tendency among many men and women. If National Geographic is ever planning on mapping out the habits of the American people, an airport gate would be a great place to start.

Can someone explain to me why that man on the right is actually holding a football? Also, what is he wearing when he watches the Olympic figure skating finals?

Whenever a new couple walks into the seating area, the man looks around. His intuition tells him there’s a game going on. His well-developed senses then spot various groups of men wherever speakers are placed in the ceiling. They’re watching the television with an intensity that doesn’t appear when the regular CNN coverage is on. All women are either absent or turned away from the television. The man looks at his wife, she is faced without a real choice and wonders off to the newspaper stand down the hall. The newcomer now positions himself as close to a speaker as possible and joins all other men in a silent gaze.

Do you have a travel ritual? Any gender-related habits that come to play?

Lost In Translation, Please?

Posted on March 26, 2013 by visitingmissouri

I started English lessons in fifth grade. Nevertheless, I have an accent (even though American politeness sometimes seems to oblige native speakers to pretend they never noticed). As I’ve noted before, the more tired I am, the more Dutch seeps through. This results mostly in severe difficulties in the ‘th’ sound. When I focus, I can pronounce ‘brother’ right, but whenever I say ‘first things first’, I mix up the sounds, creating the even harder to pronounce ‘thirst fings thirst’. Also, don’t give me a Bible with the word ‘brethren’ in it.

Like this one.

What’s worse than my accent, however, is that sometimes it’s not really English any more. It’s replacing normal Dutch with Dutch with English words. This means a shift from ‘we’ll all pretend he doesn’t have an accent, just smile and nod’ to ‘what did you just say?’ (I found a wikipedia page on Dunglish; I found myself guilty on all of listed symptoms, although not as bad as the most colorful examples). Below is a great video, because of three things: a Dutch man faking a Scottish accent, an American speaking Dutch (two sentences) and then bursting out in a flawless Dutch accent.

Sometimes, it’s a little subtler than downright wrong. When miss Missouri is trying to learn Dutch and getting ‘nice to meet you’ right (‘Aangenaam kennis te maken’), I tell her to ignore the whole sentence. People don’t say that, especially not in the robotic way the cd will teach you. There is a downside to this, though. I must have met quite a few people who now think I did not take any pleasure in meeting them. Also, I must seem rude every now and then, because the Dutch use of the word ‘please’ is for toddlers that wanted to be lifted only. Americans use it for passing salt, ordering coffee and asking for amnesty alike. Maybe this is the reason I get a dirty look along with my salt all the time…

What’s your best accent?

The American Dilemma of ‘Paper or Plastic’

Posted on February 26, 2013 by visitingmissouri

Sometimes I feel sorry for American tourists that visit the Netherlands. Not always, there are times when I’m cycling and a tourist (and a lot of those are American) hops onto the road without even looking to see who’s coming, forcing me to swerve across the street, while avoiding other cyclist, causing a chain reaction of road rage. Also, don’t think that I’m being too harsh, because I’m counting on enraging half the States by the time I learn how to drive (when I’ve actually mastered the skill it will be okay, but who knows how long that might take). Anyway, one of the times I feel most sorry for American tourists is when they go grocery shopping.

I didn’t want to give away any spoilers, so here’s a very happy woman doing groceries in Holland, Michigan.

You see, in the States there is a certain luxury when you’re doing your groceries. You get your basket, walk up to the register, pile your stuff on the belt and pay while someone else packs your bags. The confusing part in the Netherlands is that it sneaks up on you. You get your basket, walk up to the register, pile your stuff on the belt and pay while you’re at the same time supposed to pack your own bags, that you should have bought before you got to the register. No one is packing your bags for you. I feel a lot of sympathy for those tourists that go through this the first time. As a teenager, this was the worst part of doing groceries. By the time I started packing, a big line had formed behind me. I would get nervous by having all these people wait on me, packing bags and getting my wallet out at the same time. Of course, the nervousness would cause my wallet to burst open and spray coins all over the place, so after picking them up, I’d carelessly pack my bag, throwing the eggs in first and piling cartons of milk on top of them, getting more and more nervous by the minute and walking home with broken eggs, leaking cartons and enough to cry about for the next two weeks. That’s why I feel sorry for those who didn’t even see it coming.

It didn’t help either that half my basket was filled with the stuff you use to fight acne.

Reader Appreciation Day

Posted on February 12, 2013 by visitingmissouri

As you may have seen last Friday, I threw a bit of a blog party, calling out three fellow bloggers to join in my happiness. In fact, even those people I didn’t call out were appreciated a lot more than any other day. Some days go by where I really couldn’t care less about my readers. It’s at those days that I refuse to write. Wait, that’s not true. I value the readership on this blog every single day. So why throw a reader appreciation day?

The banner that you can’t read says ‘customer appreciation day (my photo skills are the reason I don’t believe in the idea that a picture can be a thousand words).

Because it’s American, that’s why. The picture above shows a small town in Illinois that my train went through. It announces an upcoming customer appreciation day. I don’t know what they actually did on that day. Probably not aligning cars and trucks, because that’s more of a daily routine job. It’s one of those things that does make you wonder why there’s a special day for that. Like Mother’s Day, it seems just to serve a commercial want. Even worse, somewhere in the back of your head you suddenly feel okay ignoring your mother for the rest of the year. You did bring her breakfast in bed, after all. So, you won’t see me on customer appreciation day. I want to feel special every day.

What do you appreciate?

Theatre Unchained: AMC’s Cinema Suites Explained

Posted on February 6, 2013 by visitingmissouri

Once in a while, miss Missouri and I like to shake up things. I’m not a crazy movie freak, but together we watch way more than we do apart. I guess it makes for excellent quality time, new inside jokes and at least something to talk about over dinner the coming week. Our shaking up last January took place in a new theatre that had opened near her place. It was a new concept (to us, at least), where you wouldn’t just watch a movie, but undergo a whole new experience.

First of all, you have to be 21 or over to enter. It’s not that anything really funky is going on, but it eliminates high school sweethearts looking for a very gross place to make out in the corner, little kids that get bored or young parents that bring their little ones to a movie so inappropriate, your replacing shame prohibits you from enjoying the movie, condemning it in the young-born soul’s place instead. This creates a unique atmosphere. Behind the desk, you feel elected into a club that actually keeps people outside. It must be what it feels like going into an airport lounge, but I wouldn’t know, because every time I try, I get shooed away.

I made this picture myself. The quality explains why I don't put up more pictures and why we decided to hire a professional photographer.

I made this picture myself. The quality explains why I don’t put up more pictures and maybe also why we decided to hire a professional photographer for our wedding.

Only 29 people fit in the theatre. Big lounge chairs make you feel like a little kid (unless you’re the guy next to us, who actually needed that seat). The full hour of commercials flies by, because you’re overwhelmed with the exclusive atmosphere, the private waiter that comes by and playing with the buttons that make your chair even more laid-back. Unlike everyone else in the theatre, we actually ate a meal before going in, but our beers and brownie (even though the combination sounds absolutely terrible) were surprisingly good. We saw Django Unchained and I even provided a mini review as a bonus. After the movie, we had quite something to talk about. The whole concept gives a feeling of a night out, as if you’re going to the theatre again. If I’m really honest, our seats, service and experience were far better than our one time visit at the opera.

What’s your favorite night out?

*Bonus: mini review for Django Unchained.
I give it *** (that’s three stars, not a covered-up dirty word) out of five. Not that I disliked the movie, it was just too much Quentin Tarantino. One of the reasons I am not suited to actually review movies is that I have never watched one of his movies (fully). I’ve heard rumours about his style, they were all true and had someone else directed the movie, it would have been much better.

European Traditions And Marketing

Posted on January 29, 2013 by visitingmissouri

Let’s face it: America is basically an independent woman having divorced Europe. One day, America couldn’t take it anymore – all the feudalism, monarchies and free spirits – and moved away. Now, she keeps telling herself she’s better off. At least she’s independent and doing things on her own terms. In this light, it’s a little weird how European traditions seem to be a big marketing asset. Walking through the aisles of any grocery store will have you pondering on how things would be in the old continent. For instance, a can of hot cocoa promised to give you that feeling from a ‘European tradition of drinking hot cocoa on the promenades of Rome and Barcelona’.

All the while being topless, another great European tradition.

There’s a lot wrong with that. As I am an expert on American-European cross culture, I can explain why. There is no such thing as a European culture. Europe is actually a continent, containing many different countries and just as much cultures. There is a Dutch culture, a German culture and, please pay attention all of you in marketing, an Italian and Spanish culture (Rome and Barcelona). It could very well be an Italian tradition to drink hot cocoa on the promenade, but the chance of that also being a tradition in Spain is about as high as the chance of a Mexican family baking an all-American apple pie for their church pot luck next Sunday. Overmore, as far as I know, drinking hot cocoa is not really a tradition on any promenade.

‘And after our pot luck, we’ll watch some football and hunt some deer.’

It’s not all bad news though. We actually do have a few traditions in Europe. Through the ages, a bond has been formed and an identity can be seen. As any culture, Europeans see how certain events bind them together. It is in those events that we remember what Europe stands for, how we set ourselves apart from the rest of the world and how to take pride in that. Still, the number of traditions is very limited and it has occured to us how other continents want to take part in this as well. To conclude, I give you the European traditions:

Having wars between the French, Germans and British (nowadays revolving around a monetary currency, but war it is).
Feeling superior over any other country for being French/German/British.
Mocking the French/German/British for their arrogance.
Mocking the United States for their lack of social security, while also envying their lack of high taxes.

Bonus: This is a somewhat less traditional way of drinking cocoa in the Netherlands.

Training ‘Merica At The Speed Man Was Made For

Posted on January 23, 2013 by visitingmissouri

My recent visit to Missouri was concluded with a train ride from Saint Louis to Chicago, where I’d board my plane to Amsterdam. I’m used to travel by train; I never needed a driver’s license just because using a train was cheaper and just as easy. I knew where I was boarding the train. I had seen Saint Louis Union Station many times before whenever we passed it on our way downtown. It is a majestic hallway, a tribute to steel and coal, located in the heart of the city. The massive building in a way represents mankind conquering nature, it’s the starting point for the man-made masses that plow through the open land. In my mind, I saw the train standing in the main hall, blowing off some steam. The excited chatter of passengers and those who will be left behind is overwhelmed by the mechanical sounds of the machine that is warming up like a bull getting ready to charge. While I lean from the open window and hold miss Missouri’s hand for the last time in months, the conductor gives a last shout: ‘All aboaaard!’. While the train starts to move, miss Missouri takes out the handkerchief, still moist from getting the tears of farewell out of the corners of her eye. In slow motion, I see her watering eyes slowly part from me, as the train departs that awesome station.

In reality, it turned out that Union Station is a Hard Rock Cafe now. The actual Amtrak station is a few hundred yards to the side and looks as nostalgic as an Arby’s parking lot after midnight. In a cold hall, people were scattered around trying to catch some sleep. This was quite the anti-climax, especially when the conductor refused to yell the ‘all aboard’, even with me adding ‘pretty please’. But when the train started moving, my journey was nostalgic again. The glass windows that make the Saint Louis skyline were reflecting the golden glow of the sunrise. With the train moving at deferential speed, I watched the arch wake up, the city get ready for a new day.

My phone does not capture the magic. It’s a miracle it captured anything at all. Also, I’ll pretend the reflection in the window adds to the travelling feeling.

Outside the city, the risen sun gave a perfect view on the many small towns we passed. Everyday life was going by me at a pace that made it easy enough to wonder about. I liked looking out of the window and seeing the big industrial complexes, big mansion next to golf courses and the trailer homes with the rusty cars. It may not be time efficient, but going at that speed is what man is made for. Flying rips you away from life, away from the earth and cars just get you focused on what’s ahead, to where you’re going. It’s the train that allows you to sit and wonder. Isn’t that what travelling should be about? If you decide to try it, be sure to bring an e-reader for the boring parts in between. Illinois has some cute towns, but those boring open lands in between still take way too much time.

And rolling into Chicago a few hours later is just as exciting.

Bridging Time Gaps And Fighting Boredom

Posted on January 15, 2013 by visitingmissouri

Watching a lot of television makes you less capable in a lot of things among a wide spectrum of intelligence. Even worse, I can’t talk to people when there’s a television in the background. Combine that with the intake of alcohol and you may have found out why going to an American bar is mentally challenging for me. It’s pretty easy to measure, too. My mental capacities are strongly related with my accent. By the time I start talking Dutch, it’s time to go home.

Sometimes, television fills the gap between two activities. There’s nothing worse than waiting for a doctor’s appointment or running on a treadmill without a television. Before you know it, your mind wonders off and you’re thinking for no reason. We wouldn’t want that. That’s why it’s a good thing we now have television even in the smallest gaps of life.

The Dutch have two things to gasp about: low gas prices and the mini tv.

That’s right. If you were ever afraid how to bridge the time gap that you use to fill up your tank, don’t despair. NFL highlights, a short weather overview and news flashes are at your service. Now you’ll never have to be bored the whole forty to sixty seconds you stand outside your car. And even better yet, if you never watch a game outside a bar or airport (like yours truly), you can still participate in coffee conversations about the three most spectacular catches, runs and touchdowns that were evidently made last weekend.

What’s your favorite magazine/tv channel/phone app for the doctor’s waiting room?

Call Scripts, Crickets And An Angry Spanish Chick

Posted on January 8, 2013 by visitingmissouri

As I am preparing for a wedding, I’m calling a lot of people. In the Netherlands, phone calls follow a script that would make telemarketers feel controlled. Because the Dutch are apparently afraid of the novelty that is communication on a distance, they pick up shouting their own name, just to establish who is being called before the conversation has properly started. Then, in an immediate response, the caller will pronounce his name and purpose for calling. The first part may seem a little odd, since the caller dialed a number and knows who is calling, but before you giggle too loud, remember the last time you dialed the wrong number and took about a minute to find out. In case you’re ashamed, let me sympathize. When I started calling miss Missouri (which I do at 5am central time), I mixed up the last four digits of her number and got a Spanish talking lady four mornings in a row. Imagine being waked up by a Dutchman at 5am who takes a solid minute to figure out you are not his girlfriend. Four days in a row.

For some reason, searching for ‘angry Spanish woman’ got me a few angry naked latino men, so I went for J-LO with a shotgun.

For some reason, calling English-speaking people at more decent times does not go over much better. I am still used to the idea that a conversation starts with a proper name, so that I can go from there. Let me picture you the first twenty seconds of my phone call yesterday:
Callee: ‘Hello?’
Me: ‘…’
Crickets: ‘Chirp chirp chirp’
Okay, maybe the crickets weren’t there, but it sure felt that awkward. Don’t worry, after I said my name and had him try to pronounce it (he failed, it’s okay), our conversation was perfectly okay. I’ll be better prepared for any calls from now on and make sure our wedding has the appropriate people.

Ever talked to someone who you didn’t know was the wrong person?

Ever liked my Facebook page yet?

visitingmissouri

Visiting Missouri: A Dutchman's view on the Real America

Category Archives: Humor