No-one here closes their curtains. According to my “Holland Handbook – an indispensable guide for expatriates”, this is due to a Calvinistic origin that secretive behavior implies something to hide, which inevitably implies sin. Granted, the explanation in the book sets this out in a lot more detail and provides a far more convincing argument, but at the end of the day, the curtains remain open.

I am not a big one for curtains either and have often been requested to not do my downward-facing dog yoga poses in the nude. I have, however, always lived on a high floor and peeping toms would really HAVE to try to see in.

Here, however, many of the houses are on eye level. Unfortunately, as I walk I am a) checking my reflection in your window pane or b) looking at the architecture. The result is that I very often come eye to eye with a mom feeding her kids or a family enjoying a dinner party. I have also peeked in at people still curled up in bed, or having a morning cup of coffee. People are messy! 

I am guessing that as much as the curtains are open, so you are expected to not necessarily look in.

BUT THAT IS SIMPLY NOT POSSIBLE! My natural instinct is to observe, and if it’s open, I am looking. I better research and find out if this is illegal…

This blog post was supposed to be about dealing with running in the cold and just what an adjustment that is. Unfortunately, I have actually only been running in the cold once. That is not to say that I have only been running once (although you are forgiven for assuming so), the weather is just fantastic. All the articles I have read online about running in the cold seem to assume dark mornings, snowfalls and ice, which hardly describes my current terrain. And, to be honest, make me feel like a bit of a pussy for even complaining.

For the last week it has been all blue skies and tweeting birds, and little blossoms peeking up everywhere. I barely even wear a jacket outside during the day.

What hasn't changed is my bemusement at the Dutch expression for exercising. I was in a clothing shop the other day browsing the various running attire when the sales assistant came up to me and said “Sporting?” which I at first took to mean, “Are you spotting?” as in 'Lady, are you joking? With that body?”. He reacted quickly to my puzzled/insulted expression and said “Are you going to sport later?”

Aha! It means exercise, I figured.

The next day, I walked the two flights of stairs to our new apartment with the estate agent and jokingly mentioned that I can skip gym if this is my daily routine, to which she replied “Yes, no need to sport.” The infinitive form is what really gets me. Sport. To sport. Sporting.

What I have found is that trying to explain the difference and why exercise is correct and sport not, the distinction is really not very clear. Sports are organised and generally competitive, exercise is, um, what? Something you do alone? So what is a yoga class?

A second expression that tickles me is that of “taking a picture” which appears to be translated from Dutch as “making a picture”. I appreciate the insertion of an active signifier, which renders the passive “taking” of a picture into an artistic creation of “making” it. I am not simply a vessel through which the camera does all the work. Je suis l'artiste.

Perhaps it is just me...

In any event, look at this picture of me sporting! 

My first two weeks in Groningen have flown by at an alarming rate. It is surprising how quickly one can simply become part of a new place, and live there as if one always has. At least, it would be surprising. If it were true.

The first difference is that this is not an English country. 'Duh!' may be the immediate reaction that springs to mind. It isn't so obvious though, as you are constantly informed that everyone here speaks English and that you will not have a problem communicating as a foreigner. That much is at least true. On the other hand, everything is in Dutch. Menus, advertisements, conversations. A simple question at the end of a supermarket transaction “wilt jy de bon erbij?” leaves one completely stumped (it means “would you like the receipt?”). Luckily, locals quickly pick up that you are not Dutch and immediately translate into English. That said, it does not mean that it is appreciated that you don't speak Dutch and it is apparent that speaking Dutch is essential to assimilating into this environment. If you have heard that speaking Afrikaans gives you a unique advantage because “it's basically the same language”, think again. If you speak Afrikaans, the Dutch will either not understand you (perhaps that's my strong English accent) or they will think you are “cute, like a child learning to speak”. Neither are flattering, and it's important to start learning Dutch as quickly as possible. Sitting in your apartment conjugating verbs out loud until they make sense is simply the only way to get comfortable.

Secondly, cycling. It's not exercise, it's a way of life. It's astonishing just how many cyclists there are, and how it all JUST WORKS. Like clockwork. Cyclists are considerate, motorists are considerate. Pedestrians gauge their pace and fall into the system. There are bicycle lanes most places, but where there aren't, traffic still flows beautifully and the same measure of respect from all road-users means that it still works. Besides the occasional “godverdomme!” expletive because you have made a poor road decision, people are generally very accommodating. No-one is wearing a helmet (so don't be that douchebag), and people cycle in their daily attire. This means that unless you are training for a 100km race, you get on your bicycle in your tweed jacket and slacks or your stilleto shoes and mini dress, and you ride. You carry your shopping bags on one handle, perhaps a baby on the front of the bike. If you have come from the station, you may be dragging your wheelie bag luggage behind you. Of course, it is a flat as a “pannenkoek” here which makes the whole wheeled transportation that much easier, but at the end of the day, everyone does it. University professors, Mcdonalds employees and nurses at the hospital. Once you get the hang of cycling on the right hand side of the road, there simply is no excuse for not commuting by bicycle.

Groningen: The Cycling City

The third major adjustment is the weather, which is most aptly described as “grey”. Once you accept that it is what it is, you realise that life carries on as normal. Houses, shops and supermarkets all cater for the cold miserable weather, and as soon as you come inside, the central heating kicks in and ensures that your frozen cycling hands quickly warm up. On the other hand, I have arrived just as winter is ending and spring is arriving, which means that I have actually enjoyed a few sunny days and some early blossoms. I have been told, however, that this may not last and that winter may still come back with a vengeance. I'll take my chances on that one...

Welcome

Greetings, loved ones.

So I have recently just moved from Cape Town, South Africa to Groningen, the Netherlands. The purpose of this blog will be to chronicle and communicate the new experiences, new flavours, new languages, and new cultures that I encounter on my travels.

Hopefully this will be a good blueprint for anyone considering a move or a visit to this part of the world. Or maybe it will be just a great voyeuristic venture...