These are a few of the great ideas I've observed unique to Holland:
When you walk around nature areas you come across heavy wooden gates that close by gravity when you let go. The hinges are installed on an angle, so the gate opens up into the air like a Lamborghini door, so when you let go it drops back down against the fence.
Often roadside nature strips are mown but the gardeners leave a patch of grass and wildflowers to go to seed. These gardeners sew random wildflowers along roadsides, which produce a colourful tapestry in Spring.
Bike locks that encircle the back wheel and you can't remove the key unless it's locked.
Traffic lights too high to see when you park too close to the crossing. These annoying lights force you to stop well back from the intersection, or else crane your neck to see the lights change above your car. This may be considered a good idea for controlling driver behaviour at traffic lights.
People leave their jackets hanging on a rack somewhere near the front of the building, cafe or whatever. Anyone could make an easy living with a second hand jacket shop, or simply upgrade their own jacket any time for free.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Annoying language
I notice when I come back to Holland from a holiday, riding home on the train from Schiphol, a rising irritation from the sound of all the Dutch voices around me.
Not just the deep gravelly women's voices, or the gutteral 'g' sound, but also the expressions that get repeated ad nauseum.
In Holland when someone enters a room, or a carriage, or any place where they want to get attention or appear to be important, they utter a long and loud 'Zo!'. Utterly meaningless of course, except to say 'I am self-important and crave attention'.
When the Dutch are bored or wish to express something like 'same old same old' they'll murmur 'heh heh' with the two sounds a descending diminished 5th apart. The diminished 5th (or augmented 4th) is considered one of the ugliest musical intervals, only used in modern dissonant compositions. So it tends to grate on the ear.
When they are surprised they exclaim something that sounds like 'shoonger yoonger', apparently also meaningless, but annoyingly popular.
A disconcerting aspect of the Dutch is that you can often hear the F word on the radio or hear an otherwise civilised looking woman say 'Shit!' when she drops something, uttered as casually as 'Oops' in English.
If you phone a utility company in Holland within 2 hours of noon, you will be greeted with 'Goodahhhhhhhhhhhhhh'. The 'ah' will go on for several seconds while they decide on the next word. The aaah sound will then evolve into 'morgen' or 'middag', for 'morning' or 'afternoon'. Sometimes I like to use the same technique, and test how long I can sustain the ah sound without being interrupted.
The Dutch (and French) also use that ah sound to keep control in a conversation. When they can't think of the right word they will utter a long and continuous ah sound which deters anyone from interrupting. I've heard that it can be a problem when they are vacuuming or using a hair dryer - if the said item is not working, they may not realize for quite some time.
Alas it's not only the Dutch who induce this irritation in the ears of a sensitive person. Any automatically repeated word or phrase can be nauseating if repeated often enough. Once on the bus from Luton airport to the station a group of Americans were chatting, and about every 3rd or 4th word was 'like'.
"My friend was like 'Hi Madison'. So I was like 'Hi Brianna what would you like?'. She was like 'I'd like a Coke!', and I was like 'But that's not like legal in Holland'." By the 50th 'like' I had a sickening dread of the next 'like'.
More recently I was somehow trapped into watching Jersey Shore, a hit show on MTV. This group of eloquent intellectuals endlessly repeat the phrase 'Oh my God', until you cringe, waiting for the next occurrence. Often it's many times in succession in a high voice: "Oh my God oh my God oh my God!" Sometimes very slowly, for extra dramatic effect: "Ohhhhhhhhhh myyyyyyy...."... as if to leave you breathlessly wondering what the next word will be.
Apart from these brainless repetitions, Americans are prone to basic errors ingrained in their collective psyche, such as 'nucular' instead of 'nuclear', which even presidents like George Bush use. Somehow a 'd' becomes a 't' for American commentators: 'secont' instead of 'second', and 'Wimbleton' instead of 'Wimbledon'.
These mistakes are about as palatable to the ear as the lower class English accent, which fillets out all the T sounds from a sentence, except at the start of words. Possibly the utterance of a T would reveal some shameful pretensions of snobbery. "I''s be''er if we ea' da bu''er on da table, no' on da floor!".
On the other hand the English upper class will not deign to pronounce the 'R' sound, as if it were frightfully infradig and would expose a black peasant in the lineage.
Then there are the fashionable English words, which change frequently. No English youth would be cool without saying 'massive', 'random', 'chill' or more recently 'lush' in each sentence. Even the otherwise innocent 'well' becomes a grating adjective when misused, as in 'I was well hungry', instead of 'very hungry'.
Somehow 'shite' took the place of 'shit', as if it is more acceptable or less rude. I think people can guess what the root word was, so it is a thin dishuise. I don't know if they say 'I need to do a shite now'.
Most annoying is the Brit usage of 'obviously' as a filler. Each sentence will be peppered with 'obviously', even when they are explaining something highly complex and not at all obvious. I like to interrupt to inform them that "It's not obvious to me!"
And of course the omnipresent 'literally', as if that big word gives extra thrust to their statement. "I was literally cleaning my teeth when I noticed some were literally missing!'
Australians also have their annoying expressions. A friend from Australia recently stayed for a few days, and after he heard me tease another friend about some word he overused, the Australian said "I suppose even I might have such pet words". I asked if he seriously didn't know what his were, and he claimed he didn't. In every sentence he included 'sort of' and 'kind of' at least two or three times, often twice in succession.
A funny Australian filler 'and that' is used instead of 'etc'. Aussies will say 'I was cleaning the car and that, when I found some money and that under the seat'. The post-match cricket captain interview goes something like this: "Yes we lost so we've sort of got to put our heads down and that, so we can sort of do better in the next match".
There are numerous 'business' words and expressions that office workers hear on CNN and adopt for frequent use in order to sound more professional. A typical sentence in a business meeting goes something like this:
"Again, let's touch base off-line so before actioning you can double-check the data landscape on the ground and give us a heads-up at close of play, because as I say, the bottom line is our mindset has to think outside the box so going forward we can be on the same page at the end of the day, then we can baseline the downstream impact to achieve closure in the current marketplace."
Brits like to use 'absolutely' instead of 'yes' to answer questions. The first time it sounds authoritative, but when it's repeated compulsively you realise the speaker has no more authority than a parrot.
This is the thing that makes language misuse so repulsive: the mechanicality of it. Parrots hear something and repeat it, and humans do the same, with some filtering, depending on whom they hear it from and whom they are trying to impress. Is it fear of being true to ourselves, of consistently being one person that stops us from creating sentences?
It seems we feel the need to adjust our accent, words and pronunciation to be more acceptable to the listener, rather than to be better understood.
Often I've overheard an expat with the merest hint of Australian accent, but when I ask if they are Australian they immediately adopt the roughest yobbo accent you would hear in the outback.
It's such a strong fear that we automatically adopt an artificial personality at the drop of a hat, thereby giving up our truer self, selling our soul for a pittance.
Not just the deep gravelly women's voices, or the gutteral 'g' sound, but also the expressions that get repeated ad nauseum.
In Holland when someone enters a room, or a carriage, or any place where they want to get attention or appear to be important, they utter a long and loud 'Zo!'. Utterly meaningless of course, except to say 'I am self-important and crave attention'.
When the Dutch are bored or wish to express something like 'same old same old' they'll murmur 'heh heh' with the two sounds a descending diminished 5th apart. The diminished 5th (or augmented 4th) is considered one of the ugliest musical intervals, only used in modern dissonant compositions. So it tends to grate on the ear.
When they are surprised they exclaim something that sounds like 'shoonger yoonger', apparently also meaningless, but annoyingly popular.
A disconcerting aspect of the Dutch is that you can often hear the F word on the radio or hear an otherwise civilised looking woman say 'Shit!' when she drops something, uttered as casually as 'Oops' in English.
If you phone a utility company in Holland within 2 hours of noon, you will be greeted with 'Goodahhhhhhhhhhhhhh'. The 'ah' will go on for several seconds while they decide on the next word. The aaah sound will then evolve into 'morgen' or 'middag', for 'morning' or 'afternoon'. Sometimes I like to use the same technique, and test how long I can sustain the ah sound without being interrupted.
The Dutch (and French) also use that ah sound to keep control in a conversation. When they can't think of the right word they will utter a long and continuous ah sound which deters anyone from interrupting. I've heard that it can be a problem when they are vacuuming or using a hair dryer - if the said item is not working, they may not realize for quite some time.
Alas it's not only the Dutch who induce this irritation in the ears of a sensitive person. Any automatically repeated word or phrase can be nauseating if repeated often enough. Once on the bus from Luton airport to the station a group of Americans were chatting, and about every 3rd or 4th word was 'like'.
"My friend was like 'Hi Madison'. So I was like 'Hi Brianna what would you like?'. She was like 'I'd like a Coke!', and I was like 'But that's not like legal in Holland'." By the 50th 'like' I had a sickening dread of the next 'like'.
More recently I was somehow trapped into watching Jersey Shore, a hit show on MTV. This group of eloquent intellectuals endlessly repeat the phrase 'Oh my God', until you cringe, waiting for the next occurrence. Often it's many times in succession in a high voice: "Oh my God oh my God oh my God!" Sometimes very slowly, for extra dramatic effect: "Ohhhhhhhhhh myyyyyyy...."... as if to leave you breathlessly wondering what the next word will be.
Apart from these brainless repetitions, Americans are prone to basic errors ingrained in their collective psyche, such as 'nucular' instead of 'nuclear', which even presidents like George Bush use. Somehow a 'd' becomes a 't' for American commentators: 'secont' instead of 'second', and 'Wimbleton' instead of 'Wimbledon'.
These mistakes are about as palatable to the ear as the lower class English accent, which fillets out all the T sounds from a sentence, except at the start of words. Possibly the utterance of a T would reveal some shameful pretensions of snobbery. "I''s be''er if we ea' da bu''er on da table, no' on da floor!".
On the other hand the English upper class will not deign to pronounce the 'R' sound, as if it were frightfully infradig and would expose a black peasant in the lineage.
Then there are the fashionable English words, which change frequently. No English youth would be cool without saying 'massive', 'random', 'chill' or more recently 'lush' in each sentence. Even the otherwise innocent 'well' becomes a grating adjective when misused, as in 'I was well hungry', instead of 'very hungry'.
Somehow 'shite' took the place of 'shit', as if it is more acceptable or less rude. I think people can guess what the root word was, so it is a thin dishuise. I don't know if they say 'I need to do a shite now'.
Most annoying is the Brit usage of 'obviously' as a filler. Each sentence will be peppered with 'obviously', even when they are explaining something highly complex and not at all obvious. I like to interrupt to inform them that "It's not obvious to me!"
And of course the omnipresent 'literally', as if that big word gives extra thrust to their statement. "I was literally cleaning my teeth when I noticed some were literally missing!'
Australians also have their annoying expressions. A friend from Australia recently stayed for a few days, and after he heard me tease another friend about some word he overused, the Australian said "I suppose even I might have such pet words". I asked if he seriously didn't know what his were, and he claimed he didn't. In every sentence he included 'sort of' and 'kind of' at least two or three times, often twice in succession.
A funny Australian filler 'and that' is used instead of 'etc'. Aussies will say 'I was cleaning the car and that, when I found some money and that under the seat'. The post-match cricket captain interview goes something like this: "Yes we lost so we've sort of got to put our heads down and that, so we can sort of do better in the next match".
There are numerous 'business' words and expressions that office workers hear on CNN and adopt for frequent use in order to sound more professional. A typical sentence in a business meeting goes something like this:
"Again, let's touch base off-line so before actioning you can double-check the data landscape on the ground and give us a heads-up at close of play, because as I say, the bottom line is our mindset has to think outside the box so going forward we can be on the same page at the end of the day, then we can baseline the downstream impact to achieve closure in the current marketplace."
Brits like to use 'absolutely' instead of 'yes' to answer questions. The first time it sounds authoritative, but when it's repeated compulsively you realise the speaker has no more authority than a parrot.
This is the thing that makes language misuse so repulsive: the mechanicality of it. Parrots hear something and repeat it, and humans do the same, with some filtering, depending on whom they hear it from and whom they are trying to impress. Is it fear of being true to ourselves, of consistently being one person that stops us from creating sentences?
It seems we feel the need to adjust our accent, words and pronunciation to be more acceptable to the listener, rather than to be better understood.
Often I've overheard an expat with the merest hint of Australian accent, but when I ask if they are Australian they immediately adopt the roughest yobbo accent you would hear in the outback.
It's such a strong fear that we automatically adopt an artificial personality at the drop of a hat, thereby giving up our truer self, selling our soul for a pittance.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Bulgarian gangsters
Just returned from a holiday in Bulgaria. Like on my previous visit, I saw the rulers of this poor country are still the gangsters.
Surprising, because each time I asked a local about the gangsters, they deny their existence, claiming they are respectable suit and tie businessmen now, or that they have all moved to France.
Bulgarians have apparently been trained by the media and government. Not surprising since so much money is involved - hundreds of millions of Euro in EU grants can be withheld if the EU considers corruption to be still rife.
But it doesn't take great powers of observation to see who is still in charge.
We happened upon a big meeting in Sunny Beach one night, with about 12 flash black cars, parked wherever they felt like, blocking the road, with big thuggish-looking 'drivers' hanging around, guarding the area. There was a Bentley, a Lamborghini, several Mercedes and Porsche Cayennes.
After hanging around for some time, ostensibly eating kebabs, the bosses came out, also brutes with a killer glance to freeze your blood and somehow induce you to automatically look away.
It seems that the previously frequent killings have stopped. Probably due to advice from the government that the EU millions would be lost if better methods of gang warfare are not adopted. Nowadays enemies quietly disappear, instead of being publicly machine-gunned with their bodyguards in cafes and bars, as was the custom a mere few years back.
The country is composed of very poor people who work for a pittance, 10 euro a week or so, while the super-rich gangsters drive black luxury cars and live the good life. Why black? Maybe because pink would be too conspicuous. A middle class seems to be lacking. It's like the old feudal lords reaping the profits while the vassals and serfs do the work.
What a dire mistake it would be to let Bulgaria join the EU. Like inviting Somalia! The cities are squalid, the people are desperately poor except for the gangsters ruling the country. Opening the EU gates would invite a flood of poor and hungry people, while the gangsters would relish the newly opened market for guns, drugs, prostitutes and whatever else is illegal.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Surprising, because each time I asked a local about the gangsters, they deny their existence, claiming they are respectable suit and tie businessmen now, or that they have all moved to France.
Bulgarians have apparently been trained by the media and government. Not surprising since so much money is involved - hundreds of millions of Euro in EU grants can be withheld if the EU considers corruption to be still rife.
But it doesn't take great powers of observation to see who is still in charge.
We happened upon a big meeting in Sunny Beach one night, with about 12 flash black cars, parked wherever they felt like, blocking the road, with big thuggish-looking 'drivers' hanging around, guarding the area. There was a Bentley, a Lamborghini, several Mercedes and Porsche Cayennes.
After hanging around for some time, ostensibly eating kebabs, the bosses came out, also brutes with a killer glance to freeze your blood and somehow induce you to automatically look away.
It seems that the previously frequent killings have stopped. Probably due to advice from the government that the EU millions would be lost if better methods of gang warfare are not adopted. Nowadays enemies quietly disappear, instead of being publicly machine-gunned with their bodyguards in cafes and bars, as was the custom a mere few years back.
The country is composed of very poor people who work for a pittance, 10 euro a week or so, while the super-rich gangsters drive black luxury cars and live the good life. Why black? Maybe because pink would be too conspicuous. A middle class seems to be lacking. It's like the old feudal lords reaping the profits while the vassals and serfs do the work.
What a dire mistake it would be to let Bulgaria join the EU. Like inviting Somalia! The cities are squalid, the people are desperately poor except for the gangsters ruling the country. Opening the EU gates would invite a flood of poor and hungry people, while the gangsters would relish the newly opened market for guns, drugs, prostitutes and whatever else is illegal.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Uncooperative Dutch
A striking aspect of the Netherlands is the lack of cooperation and unwillingness to take responsibility.
At a company I recently worked for called Atradius, a major IT project I worked on was continually stalled by managers whose only aim was to offload work onto another department, even though our IT department could easily and efficiently do the work. Despite my best efforts to simply do the work and overcome the politics, the project just dragged on for years and has probably been canned by now.
I confronted my local Connexion bus driver about why his bus leaves the station two minutes before the train from Amsterdam arrives. I told him they should fix the timetable. He replied that the train comes too late and NS should fix THEIR timetable. 'Disconnexion' might be a better name for their company.
It seems that customers are too patient and long-suffering in Holland. Am I the only person to suggest that buses and trains could connect?
It further seems that people are not willing or motivated to stand up and take responsibility for changing their world. Perhaps they are not rewarded in their youth so it is not considered a commendable ting to be te force for change. Maybe the quest to be 'normale' is the overriding factor that subsumes any aspirations to achieve or excel.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
At a company I recently worked for called Atradius, a major IT project I worked on was continually stalled by managers whose only aim was to offload work onto another department, even though our IT department could easily and efficiently do the work. Despite my best efforts to simply do the work and overcome the politics, the project just dragged on for years and has probably been canned by now.
I confronted my local Connexion bus driver about why his bus leaves the station two minutes before the train from Amsterdam arrives. I told him they should fix the timetable. He replied that the train comes too late and NS should fix THEIR timetable. 'Disconnexion' might be a better name for their company.
It seems that customers are too patient and long-suffering in Holland. Am I the only person to suggest that buses and trains could connect?
It further seems that people are not willing or motivated to stand up and take responsibility for changing their world. Perhaps they are not rewarded in their youth so it is not considered a commendable ting to be te force for change. Maybe the quest to be 'normale' is the overriding factor that subsumes any aspirations to achieve or excel.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Cocktail sticks
You might notice in Holland that if you order a white beer - a Hoogarden or Witte beer - they will put in a slice of lemon with an upside-down plastic cocktail stick to squash the lemon.
You fish out the stick and turn it around to squash the lemon, then dry your fingers on your pants.
I've asked barpersons why they put the stick upside-down, but they invariably look dumb and say it's standard. Like a lot of things in Holland that are done because they're standard.
I got the same answer from the otherwise attractive waitress at Panama the other day, when I went to see a Lake Montgomery gig. It's the standard way, she said.
To her credit she asked the boss, and then told me he knows why.
The dishevelled Panama boss came over and explained that some years back, a woman had lifted her glass to take a drink, and the sharp end of the cocktail stick popped her eye out. She consequently sued the bar, who claimed that they had put the cocktail stick in upside down, and that she was at fault for turning it around.
Since then bars in Holland always place the cocktail stick sharp-end down.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
You fish out the stick and turn it around to squash the lemon, then dry your fingers on your pants.
I've asked barpersons why they put the stick upside-down, but they invariably look dumb and say it's standard. Like a lot of things in Holland that are done because they're standard.
I got the same answer from the otherwise attractive waitress at Panama the other day, when I went to see a Lake Montgomery gig. It's the standard way, she said.
To her credit she asked the boss, and then told me he knows why.
The dishevelled Panama boss came over and explained that some years back, a woman had lifted her glass to take a drink, and the sharp end of the cocktail stick popped her eye out. She consequently sued the bar, who claimed that they had put the cocktail stick in upside down, and that she was at fault for turning it around.
Since then bars in Holland always place the cocktail stick sharp-end down.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Monday, June 7, 2010
Driving
When I was in Melbourne, I was driving a Welsh friend around one day.
I was waiting at a stop sign for a break in the traffic, and she said 'drivers are far more passive here aren't they, why don't you just jump out into the traffic?'.
It didn't feel like an accurate observation, because in my experience drivers in Australia are generally very aggressive. I realised some time later that it would not be common in Australia to cut in front of another car from a stop sign, because there would be a fair chance you would be chased and beaten to death, or at least blasted for some time by their car horn.
My brother, who is an aggressive type, once cut across the path of a car full of bikies going the other way. They did a screeching U-turn and chased him for several kilometers before he luckily shook them off. He is still alive, but I sometimes wonder how long his luck will hold. Road rage is a popular sport in Australia, like Gay Bashing.
With a long one or two hour drive to work in Delft each day, I have plenty of time to observe Dutch drivers. I find them far more polite and civilized that in Australia. If you occupy the fast lane for more than a second or two in Australia, the driver sitting six inches behind will flash his lights and toot his horn. Here they are reticent to even flash their lights. They might flick on their left indicator as if they intend to turn left from frustration into the concrete barrier, thereby hoping to induce enough sympathy to let them pass.
A noticeable difference is that here in Holland it seems common and normal to change lanes without indicating. It is avoided in Australia, probably because the police fine you if you fail to indicate.
Speed cameras are usually visible in Holland, and even covered in bright stripes sometimes. In Australia they are carefully hidden, often on the downhill portion of a road where people unintentionally exceed the limit. Nowadays they are too small to see, made with nanotechnology. They are a source of revenue rather than a means to control traffic flow.
In Holland the traffic police are invariably polite and kind in my experience, shaking hands and wishing you a nice day as they leave you with your receipt for 150 euros. That was my last fine for using a mobile phone whilst driving. I was somehow inspired to compliment him on doing a good job, managing to observe me from my left, using the phone with my left hand on my right ear. The Dutch horeca and retail industries could learn a lot about customer service from the police.
The politeness of the drivers here makes it a pleasure to drive. Especially when traffic is merging: the bulk of cars merge very early, leaving a lane empty for an expat opportunist to enjoy freely.
A few things still annoy me though.
One is drivers who don't understand roundabouts.
Some stop and wait as if a roundabout is a stop sign.
Others speed up to try to keep you out of the roundabout, or blow their horn when you've already comfortably entered in front of them, even if they don't have to touch their brakes. A roundabout is designed to facilitate efficient traffic flow, so drivers should cooperate to allow the continual flow of cars.
The other irritant is when I sit in the lane second from the left on a three or four lane highway. This is a good location to avoid the unpredictable movements of the slow cars in the right lanes. Invariably a young male comes right up behind as if to push a point, instead of using the empty left or right lanes to pass. Finally he gives in and uses the left lane, but then cuts me off to swerve across to the far right lane, and then back again to the far left lane to pass the next car. It's as if he's saying 'Look, this is what GOOD driving is! Swerve like a maniac from the far left to the far right and then back again.'
Another is on a single lane road with a 50 limit. The driver in front will drive at 50 or less with a long line of traffic held up behind, apparently relishing the opportunity to control so many people. As soon as their is an opportunity to pass, he will accelerate to stay in front.
One thing that strikes me is that there are ample ways to express displeasure at another driver, by flashing the lights, scowling, tooting the horn. Many ways to spread negativity in the world. I might market an invention - an electronic light message board, similar to those used by the police. You could select a preset message, such as "Thanks" or 'Excuse me", 'Good move" or "What's your number?", to communicate in a positive way with other drivers, and thereby spread goodwill on the roads.
For me the essence of good driving is to use the brakes and accelerator as little as possible, for the smoothest possible ride, while inconveniencing other drivers as little as possible.
If you are looking for a house in Maastricht for rent, please click on the link.
I was waiting at a stop sign for a break in the traffic, and she said 'drivers are far more passive here aren't they, why don't you just jump out into the traffic?'.
It didn't feel like an accurate observation, because in my experience drivers in Australia are generally very aggressive. I realised some time later that it would not be common in Australia to cut in front of another car from a stop sign, because there would be a fair chance you would be chased and beaten to death, or at least blasted for some time by their car horn.
My brother, who is an aggressive type, once cut across the path of a car full of bikies going the other way. They did a screeching U-turn and chased him for several kilometers before he luckily shook them off. He is still alive, but I sometimes wonder how long his luck will hold. Road rage is a popular sport in Australia, like Gay Bashing.
With a long one or two hour drive to work in Delft each day, I have plenty of time to observe Dutch drivers. I find them far more polite and civilized that in Australia. If you occupy the fast lane for more than a second or two in Australia, the driver sitting six inches behind will flash his lights and toot his horn. Here they are reticent to even flash their lights. They might flick on their left indicator as if they intend to turn left from frustration into the concrete barrier, thereby hoping to induce enough sympathy to let them pass.
A noticeable difference is that here in Holland it seems common and normal to change lanes without indicating. It is avoided in Australia, probably because the police fine you if you fail to indicate.
Speed cameras are usually visible in Holland, and even covered in bright stripes sometimes. In Australia they are carefully hidden, often on the downhill portion of a road where people unintentionally exceed the limit. Nowadays they are too small to see, made with nanotechnology. They are a source of revenue rather than a means to control traffic flow.
In Holland the traffic police are invariably polite and kind in my experience, shaking hands and wishing you a nice day as they leave you with your receipt for 150 euros. That was my last fine for using a mobile phone whilst driving. I was somehow inspired to compliment him on doing a good job, managing to observe me from my left, using the phone with my left hand on my right ear. The Dutch horeca and retail industries could learn a lot about customer service from the police.
The politeness of the drivers here makes it a pleasure to drive. Especially when traffic is merging: the bulk of cars merge very early, leaving a lane empty for an expat opportunist to enjoy freely.
A few things still annoy me though.
One is drivers who don't understand roundabouts.
Some stop and wait as if a roundabout is a stop sign.
Others speed up to try to keep you out of the roundabout, or blow their horn when you've already comfortably entered in front of them, even if they don't have to touch their brakes. A roundabout is designed to facilitate efficient traffic flow, so drivers should cooperate to allow the continual flow of cars.
The other irritant is when I sit in the lane second from the left on a three or four lane highway. This is a good location to avoid the unpredictable movements of the slow cars in the right lanes. Invariably a young male comes right up behind as if to push a point, instead of using the empty left or right lanes to pass. Finally he gives in and uses the left lane, but then cuts me off to swerve across to the far right lane, and then back again to the far left lane to pass the next car. It's as if he's saying 'Look, this is what GOOD driving is! Swerve like a maniac from the far left to the far right and then back again.'
Another is on a single lane road with a 50 limit. The driver in front will drive at 50 or less with a long line of traffic held up behind, apparently relishing the opportunity to control so many people. As soon as their is an opportunity to pass, he will accelerate to stay in front.
One thing that strikes me is that there are ample ways to express displeasure at another driver, by flashing the lights, scowling, tooting the horn. Many ways to spread negativity in the world. I might market an invention - an electronic light message board, similar to those used by the police. You could select a preset message, such as "Thanks" or 'Excuse me", 'Good move" or "What's your number?", to communicate in a positive way with other drivers, and thereby spread goodwill on the roads.
For me the essence of good driving is to use the brakes and accelerator as little as possible, for the smoothest possible ride, while inconveniencing other drivers as little as possible.
If you are looking for a house in Maastricht for rent, please click on the link.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Visit to the IND
Went to the IND in Utrecht last night.
For some strange reason I had to pick up my new ID card there.
So I drove the 100 kms or so from work in Delft to Utrecht to catch the late night opening hours, which are 9:00 to 21:00 according to the website.
Arrived at 8:30 to meet the receptionist.
Even though the building was swarming with customers, he informed me sympathetically that the closing time for picking up new ID cards is actually 8 PM, and that they have the wrong hours on the letter I held AND the website.
Nevertheless he left his desk to go to the department and check if someone could help me. He came back soon and said with a reassuring wink that I should wait.
In due course an attractive blonde came out and explained that the cash register in her department closed at 8, so she couldn't help me. I suggested a few alternatives such as: send me a giro, or I'll give her the cash, or I'll pay at another cash register. Alas, all were 'not allowed'.
Rules are rules and must be obeyed in Holland.
So I told her I forgive her because she has beautiful eyes, and enjoyed the long drive home from scenic Utrecht, where the joggers were out in force in the evening sunshine along the old canals.
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For some strange reason I had to pick up my new ID card there.
So I drove the 100 kms or so from work in Delft to Utrecht to catch the late night opening hours, which are 9:00 to 21:00 according to the website.
Arrived at 8:30 to meet the receptionist.
Even though the building was swarming with customers, he informed me sympathetically that the closing time for picking up new ID cards is actually 8 PM, and that they have the wrong hours on the letter I held AND the website.
Nevertheless he left his desk to go to the department and check if someone could help me. He came back soon and said with a reassuring wink that I should wait.
In due course an attractive blonde came out and explained that the cash register in her department closed at 8, so she couldn't help me. I suggested a few alternatives such as: send me a giro, or I'll give her the cash, or I'll pay at another cash register. Alas, all were 'not allowed'.
Rules are rules and must be obeyed in Holland.
So I told her I forgive her because she has beautiful eyes, and enjoyed the long drive home from scenic Utrecht, where the joggers were out in force in the evening sunshine along the old canals.
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Tax Department
Phoned the tax department (belastingdienst) today to ask about a baffling letter they sent me. It seemed to say something like the following (in Dutch).
We have transferred your file from Hilversum to Utrecht for one of the following reasons:
- our office has moved
- you have moved
- you have opened a new company
- you have closed a company
- we have changes of staff
- we are restructuring
and a couple of other equally fascinating possibilities.
I called to gain a little precision on the matter, hoping of course that the file wasn't moved for some serious reason like an audit.
After some time a human came on the line and I went straight into explaining what I want - 'received a letter, what is it about...?' He listened for a while, then said 'sorry, we can't speak English, only Dutch, to avoid any misunderstandings'.
I observed that 'I don't speak Dutch, but you're speaking English now, so that language is best to avoid misunderstandings!'
He replied 'Yes, but we're only allowed to speak English to say we can't speak English'.
He nervously laughed in spite of himself, no doubt feeling like a ludicrous medewerker.
I told a colleague, who explained that the motto of the Belastingdienst is 'Leuker kunnen we het niet maken', which roughly means 'We can't make it any more fun'.
Well thanks guys, you certainly made it lots of fun for me today.
A real barrel of laughs.
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We have transferred your file from Hilversum to Utrecht for one of the following reasons:
- our office has moved
- you have moved
- you have opened a new company
- you have closed a company
- we have changes of staff
- we are restructuring
and a couple of other equally fascinating possibilities.
I called to gain a little precision on the matter, hoping of course that the file wasn't moved for some serious reason like an audit.
After some time a human came on the line and I went straight into explaining what I want - 'received a letter, what is it about...?' He listened for a while, then said 'sorry, we can't speak English, only Dutch, to avoid any misunderstandings'.
I observed that 'I don't speak Dutch, but you're speaking English now, so that language is best to avoid misunderstandings!'
He replied 'Yes, but we're only allowed to speak English to say we can't speak English'.
He nervously laughed in spite of himself, no doubt feeling like a ludicrous medewerker.
I told a colleague, who explained that the motto of the Belastingdienst is 'Leuker kunnen we het niet maken', which roughly means 'We can't make it any more fun'.
Well thanks guys, you certainly made it lots of fun for me today.
A real barrel of laughs.
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Take Away Food Shop
On a few occasions in Dutch fast food shops I've felt annoyed and somewhat disturbed. Not just from the food being handled thoroughly by dirty bare hands in between handling money. I can live with that now, the deep fryer surely kills all the germs except the hardiest cockroach eggs. Dead bacteria bodies are probably digestible, and might contain a few molecules of nutrition.
No it's not that.
I enter to find the frozen foods on display under the counter.
I naturally get excited and start salivating to see the delicious frozen blocks of compounded animal matter.
Then I gaze at the overhead menu board, hoping to find something recognizably edible.
Meanwhile the shop assistant stares at me fixedly, apparently assuming I should know what I want before I enter, knowing that there are the same 12 items available as in every other takeaway food shop in the country. Frikandel, krokets, meat and onion ball, mexicaan etc. The assistant moves in front of me since I obviously couldn't find her. After a second or two she interrupts my reading with a Dutch 'Can I help you?'. I ignore her, to indicate that I don't speak Dutch and furthermore I am still deciding. So she interrupts more loudly in an irritable tone 'Hullo! Can I help you?'
I ignore her again and perhaps turn to a friend to see what she wants, which riles the assistant further. who tries to lock aggressive eyes with me.
In most civilized countries the shop assistant patiently waits for the customer to make up his mind. Wearing a pleasant, welcoming smile, with humble, downcast eye contact. In Japan they even utter something like 'Itta daki mas' which means something like 'Welcome to my shop'. The customer is more than king there, he is Emperor.
I used to be annoyed by this aggressively intrusive behavior, but as I thought about this Dutch peculiarity today, I realized it may happen because in Holland they insist on serving people in the order in which they enter the shop. So the assistant first needs to get your permission before she can move on to the next customer. If a customer is skipped they might verbally attack the assistant.
Like many cultural misunderstandings, what appears to be rudeness could possibly be a quaint form of politeness!
Another interesting feature of Dutch shop assistants is that they have a single threaded processor - they can only serve one customer at a time, even to the exclusion of answering a simple question like 'when do you close?'
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
No it's not that.
I enter to find the frozen foods on display under the counter.
I naturally get excited and start salivating to see the delicious frozen blocks of compounded animal matter.
Then I gaze at the overhead menu board, hoping to find something recognizably edible.
Meanwhile the shop assistant stares at me fixedly, apparently assuming I should know what I want before I enter, knowing that there are the same 12 items available as in every other takeaway food shop in the country. Frikandel, krokets, meat and onion ball, mexicaan etc. The assistant moves in front of me since I obviously couldn't find her. After a second or two she interrupts my reading with a Dutch 'Can I help you?'. I ignore her, to indicate that I don't speak Dutch and furthermore I am still deciding. So she interrupts more loudly in an irritable tone 'Hullo! Can I help you?'
I ignore her again and perhaps turn to a friend to see what she wants, which riles the assistant further. who tries to lock aggressive eyes with me.
In most civilized countries the shop assistant patiently waits for the customer to make up his mind. Wearing a pleasant, welcoming smile, with humble, downcast eye contact. In Japan they even utter something like 'Itta daki mas' which means something like 'Welcome to my shop'. The customer is more than king there, he is Emperor.
I used to be annoyed by this aggressively intrusive behavior, but as I thought about this Dutch peculiarity today, I realized it may happen because in Holland they insist on serving people in the order in which they enter the shop. So the assistant first needs to get your permission before she can move on to the next customer. If a customer is skipped they might verbally attack the assistant.
Like many cultural misunderstandings, what appears to be rudeness could possibly be a quaint form of politeness!
Another interesting feature of Dutch shop assistants is that they have a single threaded processor - they can only serve one customer at a time, even to the exclusion of answering a simple question like 'when do you close?'
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
Visit to the Doctor
Went to the doctor this morning for an 8:30 appointment.
I got there at 8:32.
Therefore I was officially late, so I was kept waiting for half an hour.
The problem is a cough that has persisted for nearly a month.
I saw the doctor previously.
On that visit, as soon as I sat down I told him that even though he would normally ask me to come back in a week, and if the problem is still there we can do something about it. I said that may be good for business, so he gets 2 visits, but it's not good for my health. We all know it is virtually impossible to get pain killers or anti-biotics from Dutch doctors, so I was ready for a battle.
I told him I have an infection with green sputum, so I want antibiotics, Amoxyl to kill the bacterial infection, and no, I'm not allergic to penicillin.
He sat and looked at me with a supercilious smirk as if to say 'Hullo, I'm the doctor here, have you been reading Diagnosis for Dummies?'
Then he launched into a spiel along the lines that 'In Holland we don't just hand over antibiotics like they do in England.' (Any English speaker is logically assumed to be English.)
He went on about a super-breed of bacteria that could take over the country. The Dutch are understandably sensitive about the possibility of a takeover.
He continued that he wouldn't prescribe antibiotics 'unless you insist'.
I confirmed that I do, so he gave me a prescription for a generous allocation of 3 tablets. They cost 5 Euro each, but did the job. He didn't look in my mouth or listen to my chest.
That was two weeks ago. So on this morning's visit I told the doctor I still have a nasty cough that has persisted for nearly a month. After due deliberation, and a quick listen to my back, she concluded that I just need to stop coughing.
I thanked her for her excellent advice and left.
Not really. She explained that coughing can damage the throat and stimulate the coughing reflex, so I need to resist the urge to cough.
I couldn't argue with such sound yet circular reasoning, so I left empty handed.
I suspect she did the same Logic and Rhetoric course as the people at the tax department, who told me they can only speak English to tell people they can't speak English.
Frank Zappa said “Art is making something out of nothing and selling it."
So that's why doctors are called Huisarts in Holland!
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
I got there at 8:32.
Therefore I was officially late, so I was kept waiting for half an hour.
The problem is a cough that has persisted for nearly a month.
I saw the doctor previously.
On that visit, as soon as I sat down I told him that even though he would normally ask me to come back in a week, and if the problem is still there we can do something about it. I said that may be good for business, so he gets 2 visits, but it's not good for my health. We all know it is virtually impossible to get pain killers or anti-biotics from Dutch doctors, so I was ready for a battle.
I told him I have an infection with green sputum, so I want antibiotics, Amoxyl to kill the bacterial infection, and no, I'm not allergic to penicillin.
He sat and looked at me with a supercilious smirk as if to say 'Hullo, I'm the doctor here, have you been reading Diagnosis for Dummies?'
Then he launched into a spiel along the lines that 'In Holland we don't just hand over antibiotics like they do in England.' (Any English speaker is logically assumed to be English.)
He went on about a super-breed of bacteria that could take over the country. The Dutch are understandably sensitive about the possibility of a takeover.
He continued that he wouldn't prescribe antibiotics 'unless you insist'.
I confirmed that I do, so he gave me a prescription for a generous allocation of 3 tablets. They cost 5 Euro each, but did the job. He didn't look in my mouth or listen to my chest.
That was two weeks ago. So on this morning's visit I told the doctor I still have a nasty cough that has persisted for nearly a month. After due deliberation, and a quick listen to my back, she concluded that I just need to stop coughing.
I thanked her for her excellent advice and left.
Not really. She explained that coughing can damage the throat and stimulate the coughing reflex, so I need to resist the urge to cough.
I couldn't argue with such sound yet circular reasoning, so I left empty handed.
I suspect she did the same Logic and Rhetoric course as the people at the tax department, who told me they can only speak English to tell people they can't speak English.
Frank Zappa said “Art is making something out of nothing and selling it."
So that's why doctors are called Huisarts in Holland!
Are you are looking for a Maastricht house for rent?
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