Change Your Life Today

“Change your life today. Don't gamble on the future, act now, without delay.”

Simone de Beauvoir

Okay, so I've known for a long time that I can't live in The Netherlands for much longer. It's the mantra I've repeated to myself for years. I can never tell if it's gotten better or worse. I used to wake up every morning in a panic. For years, I woke up panicking every morning. Flight syndrome. Is this another one of my posts that I will wind up regretting in a few days? I wanted to write about Max Weber, the Protestant work ethic, and how it has a stranglehold on Dutch society. Why is it that I can't bring myself to like it here? I've tried so many different things. I've taken advantage of a lot this country has to offer, but I still feel spurned.

It's a race against the clock now. Even though, for some reason, Blogger has the date all wrong, my Tuesday post says it was posted on Monday, I still have to get this out. I put myself under this obligation to "post everyday in November." It's the "post everyday month." Of course, who the hell cares, right? I'm not obliged to follow anyone's edict. I'm not sure that I even like blogging much anymore. It's not going to get me out of The Netherlands.

Once, years ago, I was talking to a friend in New York about moving to Europe. He laughed and said, "Then you'd be moving to a place with a bunch of people who are more like you than you are." I just kind of winced at the time. Europe seemed like such a better place, but it hasn't proven itself to be in the nine years I've been here. (It's a great place to take a vacation, I won't deny that.) The people are more Calvinist than Calvin for one thing. What you have marks your quality as a person. I think I'd feel more at home on an Indian Reservation in the American Southwest, or in China. I've often thought that about China. At least then I'd have a clear demarcation line. I'd know where I stood. I'd know from the get go that I was an outsider. But my great grandmother was born in Utrecht. I'm Dutch, but I'm not to any of "them." After moving here I understand why they all left. I should have known better, and never "come back" to a place my ancestors were wise enough to leave. My great grandmother's father had a good job in Utrecht. He was a typesetter. Still, he left with his family, and never set foot in his birth country again, and neither did she.

Yesterday there was an article in the newspaper about how the Dutch government is considering making DNA tests mandatory for immigrant children and partners of non-Westerners. There's so much paranoia going on here, it's remarkable. How they could actually make it mandatory for anyone to hand over her DNA is beyond me. Speaking of civil rights violations. They also want to ensure that foreigners coming into the country to marry a bonafide Dutch swear their alliegiance to Dutch society over any other society. It won't be long before they start discussing procdures to plant chips into our brains.

Most people don't realize it, but The Netherlands is the most policed country in Europe. There are cameras everywhere.

I'm a believer that these anti-foreign attitudes translate over to all people from other places, not only people with dark skin. I feel it all the time, and I'm not alone. I often wonder where this society is headed. It's like the chill before the storm, in my eyes.

In the United States I heard African Americans say, "all whites are racists. Even if they say they aren't, they are, by definition." Sometimes I think the same about the Dutch. They're all xenophobic. However much they deny it, and claim open-mindedness, they're all a bunch of xenophobes. Of course, I don't know many actual Dutch. Perhaps I'll be proven wrong someday if I'm stuck here for another nine years, I might actually succeed in building friendships with a few Dutch people, and they'll prove me wrong. It hasn't happened so far. I'm still waiting. I've been snubbed too many times to make any more overtures to anymore flesh and blood Dutch, so I'll just sit back, and keep safe for now.

I've been on the train to Germany and Belgium when they've checked passports of all the dark people, but of no white people. I agonized over my decision to bring both of my passports, and they didn't even check me. I could probably travel through Europe by train without any ID, I'm so white. They wouldn't suspect me of being an illegal. Of course, I'd have to keep my mouth shut. In fact, we're required by Dutch law to carry ID with us at all times. So my passport's getting a little dirty these days sitting in my purse. I could get a Dutch ID card, but then I'd have to pay about 40 Euros, something I'd refuse to do. I'd rather have a dirty passport.

Trala. I made the deadline. Another day. Another post. Even if it is a vitriolic one. Perhaps one of these days I'll write more on Max Weber. I'll be in Munich soon, so perhaps I'll become inspired by my surroundings. If I recall correctly, he was born there. Of course, Fassbinder was also from Munich.

Guido Swimming Pants

Here's an example of the Dutch living in another century. This is so absurd, I just couldn't resist. My son's school teacher is now insisting that he wear a tight little swim pant to the school swimming class. He currently wears long swimming shorts, which for reasons unknown, is unacceptable swim attire. Maybe they're afraid he'll become a gansta if he keeps wearing long swimming shorts. He does have long hair! Long shorts. Long hair. That all adds up to no good.

I think most men and boys prefer loose fitting attire for comfort. Oddly, it's only his new, snotty, "upper crust" hyper-Dutch school that makes such requirements. The same school that has no qualms about taking small children on school trips in cars without child safety seats. Wow, they really have their priorities straight.

The same teacher also insists that my son is in need of urgent speech therapy, something we also didn't see a reason for. When we finally took him to the speech therapist, she couldn't see a reason, either. She told us that his Dutch is perfect, but his school teacher insists that he makes "English" sounds. Must be due to his shifty American mother teaching him English, or "American," as the Dutch are so fond of calling our "language." Only the English can really speak English. I guess there's also "Australian," "New Zealandian," "Canadian," "Irishian," and other languages/dialects. I can't wait until he starts studying English in school and they insist that he speak with a Kentian English accent.

Here's another fun fact: In the school art show last year, one of the third grade teachers had this great art project. One hundred dollar bills with a photo of each pupil in place of whatever president is on that bill, and in place of "The United States of America," "The Bogus States of America," or something like that. I really wish I'd taken a picture of that one. What a tolerant bunch the Dutch are. I can understand being against the current administration. The Dutch government has been supportive of Bush. Even the Queen went to visit him. Perhaps the Dutch school teacher can make a bashing art project out of that with his students this year.

This same teacher is my son's chess teacher at school. Last year, again for reasons unknown, he stopped giving him chess homework, resulting in him not finishing the course. This just happened to coincide with the afternoon I came to introduce myself, and he found out that I'm American. Coincidence?

It's remarkable how petty and xenophobic the liberal minded Dutch have become. As I've always said, "tolerance" isn't the same thing as "acceptance," and it's a far cry from actually welcoming someone! I'm sure that the Dutch have always looked upon "outsiders," or people who are different from them, with suspicion, have held them at arm's length, have allowed "them" to exist here, as long as they stay in their own little corner. After all, isn't integration just another form of control?

Even if you do learn the language, and do your best to mix in, it's never good enough. You'll always have an accent. Your Dutch will always be inferior, and so will you. You'll always be a foreigner, and foreigner is a four letter word in this society. Even if, as in my case, you become Dutch, you can never be considered Dutch by a white Dutch person.

A friend of mine left with her family after finishing medical school here several years ago. She was an American of Indian descent, small with very dark skin. While interning at Dutch hospitals people mistook her for a cleaning person. She was constantly berated for her American-Dutch accent. When asked by white Dutch people where she was from, she'd tell them that she was American, to which they'd reply, "But NO, where are you REALLY from?" "Uh, America." Incidentally, she also has a Dutch passport.