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Suze Abroad
Tuesday, 31 October 2006
History Books
Mood:  not sure

As the Dutch elections approach, The Hague is churning out political propaganda by the truckload.  The usual characters Auntie Rita and Harry Potter are campaigning fiercely. A statement made by Harry has caused some, but in my opinion not enough, outrage amongst minority groups.  He expressed his desire for Holland to go back to the ‘Golden Era’, a reference to the 17th century when Holland was a prosperous world player.   

What de didn’t mention was that this wealth was built on the trade of slaves.  Colonialism, Cultural Imperialism or the White Man’s burden, whatever you choose to call it the Dutch went sailing around the globe looking for as much easy profit as possible.   When you think about the magnitude of the suffering, the arrogance of believing that the savages needed to be civilised or sold and the associated violence and thievery it’s unbelievable that the Prime Minister in 2006 wants to return to this period. 

Even worse, the majority of the Dutch population agree with him.  The only protest has come from the Surinamers, who experienced the brutality of Dutch slavery first hand.  The attitude of the Dutch government in the limited debate aired on the issue seems to be “Stop being so difficult about it all, it’s not such a big deal”.  I guess that was also their attitude a few hundred years ago.    

So how can this be possible?  How can a whole nation be in denial over their past atrocities? 

I think the answer lies is the history books.  I vividly remember the shame I felt at school when the teachers discussed the merciless slaughter of Aborigines, the spread of disease, the total loss of indigenous culture & traditions.   The words of Mrs. Moylan have stuck with me for 15 years.  She warned us, 

“It’s easy to identify with the victims, the aborigines.  Easy to shake your head and say, ‘Wasn’t that dreadful’. But you NEED to identify with the aggressors because they were your ancestors and we really need to learn something from this, to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes again” 

Maybe not all Australians feel as ashamed of this part of history as I do, but the school curriculum definitely addresses it.  It’s not glossed over as some period we should all be proud of.   I think the Dutch, on the other hand, are in denial.  School kids are still taught about the wealth and glamour of the period without the tragedy and loss that went with it.  Sometimes it’s mentioned, but there are always excuses.  They say the Portuguese were worse, they were just out to explore the world or, my personal favourite, they had good intentions.  

The inability to be honest about Dutch history is worrying, yet it also gives some insight into the strange aversion the Dutch have to modern multi-culturalism.  Could it be that deep down, they still think foreigners are just a bunch of savages  screaming out to be taught good morals and ‘civilised’ behaviour. 

 

A funny look at Rita (I swear I didn't create it myself)

 

Til next week.


Posted by Suze at 7:26 PM CET
Updated: Tuesday, 31 October 2006 7:32 PM CET
Tuesday, 3 October 2006
Missing In Action
Mood:  spacey

 

Apologies for going M.I.A.  There are two things bubbling under the surface at the moment.  One is wonderful and exciting, the other is a real dissappointment.  Unfortunately I cannot discuss either here.  The first I’m scared to jinx and the second may get me dooced.  I’ll post all the juice soon enough but for now I have to remain cryptic.  If you are dying to know send me an email…..

P.S Renee & Sarah:  I got the wedding invitations I sent you back in the mail last week.  They were both opened by Australian customs and returned to the Netherlands with a nasty warning letter about sending drugs through the mail.  I guess the sniffer dogs picked them out.  I don’t even smoke pot let alone traffic it to my friends!  For the record, you were both invited…    


Posted by Suze at 5:05 PM MEST
Updated: Tuesday, 3 October 2006 5:13 PM MEST
Monday, 11 September 2006
5 minutes of fame...
Mood:  rushed

Look!!

 

 

 

we're famous.....

 

 

 

I haven't been spotted on the street yet.  I have been working on my autograph though.

 

 



 


 


Posted by Suze at 11:46 AM MEST
Updated: Monday, 11 September 2006 11:52 AM MEST
Tuesday, 29 August 2006
Photos Galore
Mood:  rushed

 

We met at 2pm under the Dom.  It was cross-cultural from the very beginning.  In Holland it's normal to pick the bride up from her parent's house (obviously a little far away) and in Aus you see each other in the ceremony (a little scary). So we thought we'd meet under the beautiful gothic arch of the Dom tower.

 

 

 



Then it was off to our 'Photo Shoot' around Utrecht.  We tried to get a mix between modern & classic.  We went to the Aboriginal Art Museum for some Aus flavour and then onto canals of Utrecht. 

 

 

 


 


 

 





 








 


It was then time for the ceremony.  Surprisingly enough I wasn't nervous at all.  Everyone else seemed to be though.


 


 

 







Time for Cake & Champagne

 


Can you believe Miranda made this??!!


 


Leaving for the restaurant

 



The rest you'll have to imagine...

 


 


Posted by Suze at 7:11 PM MEST
Updated: Tuesday, 29 August 2006 11:49 PM MEST
Thursday, 24 August 2006
Faith Restored
Mood:  celebratory

 

Lenny, one of my few Dutch friends, had her bachelorette party on Saturday.  That meant socialising with Dutch women, something I’ve grown to be very afraid of.  Volleyball Nicole, the Evil Stepsisters and my all time favourite Rita Verdonk have all left me cynical about the female species here. It is ridiculous and unfair of me to generalise.  Actually, given the prejudice I’ve endured as a foreigner it’s nothing short of hypocritical.  Nevertheless as I approached the café to meet the girls I couldn’t help but sigh a little thinking,

 

Here we go again.

 

Armed with all sorts of whistles and horns we stormed into Lenny's house.  After providing her with a fake agenda filled fear-inspiring activites we dressed her up and took her into the city. We shimmied our way through a belly dancing class, hung out in the Hamam and danced until daybreak.

 

I had…

wait for it…

...a truly wonderful day. 

Never in my life have I felt more welcomed or included.  The girls were openhearted, open-minded and incredibly fun to be around.  They didn’t take themselves seriously, there wasn’t any self-righteous finger pointing and I could even admit to watching America’s next top model without fearing recrimination.  In fact, they watch it too.   

 

I am thrilled to be proved wrong about Dutch women.  I know it was just one fun day and one handful of girls that I may never even see again.  Yet somewhere between prancing around together with bells on and getting covered head-to-toe in mud my faith in this whole adventure, maybe even in Holland, was restored.  

 


Posted by Suze at 3:41 PM MEST
Updated: Thursday, 24 August 2006 3:49 PM MEST
Thursday, 17 August 2006
Married Life
Mood:  cheeky

 

It was the best Dutch summer yet. 

 

All four weeks of it. 

 

With my usual sense of timing I purchased a fan three weeks ago and the heat wave ended the next day. It has been around 20 degrees and raining ever since. Despite the cooler conditions I am enjoying the tornado like wind the fan produces every night.  As a child I found it difficult to sleep without the reassuring drone of a fan, even in the middle of winter.  Jarno fought me all the way but cracked under the 35 degree + conditions.    Now it’s a silent battle of wills.  I leave the fan on as I go to sleep, he turns it off the second I fall asleep, I wake up and turn it on high and then he turns it off again.  And so we continue in a semi-conscious trance throughout the night.   

 

I guess this is married life...   

 


 


 

 


Posted by Suze at 5:02 PM MEST
Updated: Thursday, 17 August 2006 5:04 PM MEST
Tuesday, 8 August 2006
Superman Returns
Mood:  cool

The circumstances were trying. 

The cinema had problems with the air-con and it was a sweaty 35 degrees inside.  To top it off I was on an alcohol-free day.  It was tough sticking to this health kick as I love having a wine at the movies, a couple of glasses can turn a flop into a classic.  Yet I resisted the temptation and managed to suffer through Superman Returns boiling hot and sober.  It was bad.  Really bad.  Don't just wait until it comes out on DVD, skip it all together. 

Big words from someone who used to wait tables as Supergirl in the local theatre restaurant.

 


Posted by Suze at 1:42 PM MEST
Updated: Tuesday, 8 August 2006 9:11 PM MEST
Monday, 7 August 2006
Texas Hold Em
Mood:  a-ok

 

I almost forgot.  Our first official poker night took place last Saturday. The roof was ablaze with lanterns and fairy lights. It was a hot summer night and we drank the last of the wedding wine. 

 

The game continued until three with Moses and Jarno splitting the winnings.   The boys were merciless, gleefully taking the chips from their own better halves.  I was in the game right up until the end but tossed it all away on an unlucky hand.   

It was a fun evening.  It's nice just to relax and enjoy the summer.


Posted by Suze at 10:07 AM MEST
Updated: Monday, 7 August 2006 10:18 AM MEST
Tuesday, 1 August 2006
Premonition
Mood:  bright

I had a premonition while cycling to the train station yesterday.   Perhaps it was brought on by the early morning sunshine bouncing off the canals giving the city an almost ethereal feel, maybe it was the smell of fresh coffee wafting out of the cafes on the winding cobblestone streets or it might just have been the lovely cool breeze streaming through my hair.  Whatever the cause, I was temporarily transported to my future life in Suburbia, Australia. 

 

There was a backyard filled with eucalyptus trees.  The sun was bright but harsh, I heard laughing children and smelled sausages on the BBQ.  I saw myself lying in a hammock, reflecting on my years here in Europe.  I realised I will look back on this time, these moments, as the most thrilling and enlightening of my life.  The people I’ve met, the places I’ve seen and lessons I’ve learned will stay with me wherever I go and I’m unreservedly grateful.

 

 


Posted by Suze at 9:47 AM MEST
Monday, 24 July 2006
This isn't Ramsay Street
Mood:  vegas lucky
Topic: Dutch Culture

The doorbell rang at 8am.  I live on the third floor and am quite lazy so I tend to peek down through the front window to check out the visitor before climbing down to greet them.  I looked down but didn’t recognise the figure below.  All I could see was the top of a female head.   The hair was that home-died brassy red colour you see so often in Holland.   I think L’oreal must make it specifically for the Dutch as almost every middle-aged woman here has the same hair colour.  Anyway, I realised I had two choices.  I could either do the polite thing and run downstairs or I could break the early-morning peace on the canal and shout down like a fishmonger’s wife.  I chose the latter.

 

“HELLO?”

“Uh yes hello I am your neigbour from next door.” She shouted back in Dutch.

 

The penny dropped. 

 

She was my nude neigbour.  Yes you did read that correctly, my NUDE neighbour.

 

The one who whenever I’m trying to impress my friends with a swanky, sophisticated roof garden dinner party, persists on strolling out naked and basking in the sun on her roof.  I’m sure you’ll agree that no matter how in shape a 60 year-old is, watching her sprawl out in the sun 5 metres away with nothing on but her sunglasses is enough to put anyone off their food.  An apology if this is ageist.  I don’t want to see anybody naked while I’m eating.     

 

I wondered why she was downstairs ringing the bell.  During our three years in the house she has ignored us.  When we see her on the street, clothed very conservatively I might add, she walks straight past as if she hasn’t seen us before. It could be a nudist thing but I have always found it a bit strange.  I never expected a casserole or a welcoming committee. This is Holland after all and if you move into a new house the onus lies on you to have a small party or introduce yourself to everyone rather than the other way around.  As we never got around to doing that, we don’t know any of the neigbours except for the hippies downstairs who aren’t afraid to break social norms and pop up every now and then.  With all these things running through my head I collected myself and raced down the stairs in my Peter Alexander pyjamas (still loving them Holly).

 

I opened the door and extended my hand,

“Susan.”

She looked confused and I prayed that she wouldn’t go in for the three kisses. My prayers were answered.

“Wilma.”

“Uh hi, is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, you have a cat?”

“Katja, You mean?  Yes, yes we do” 

“Your cat is really annoying me”

“Oh? I’m so sorry what mischief has she been up to?”

“She’s walking on my roof garden and jumping inside my window.  All the neighbours are complaining and you must keep her in the house from now”

 

Katja, our lonely only cat (thanks to Jarno who mercilessly gave away all her kittens a couple of years ago), has taken to jumping out of the bathroom window onto other people’s roof gardens and making her way along the street across the roof tops.  We find it charming and she looks so happy hunting down the little wildlife that Utrecht has left, so we encourage her by leaving the window open all the time.  

 

“uhhhh…..”

 

insert 5 seconds pause where I tried to translate “not a chance in hell” first into something less direct and then into Dutch.

 

“Not a chance in hell.”

 

Obviously not a successful translation.

 

“But all the neighbours are complaining!”

“You can’t lock an animal inside all day, it’s cruel.”

“Well you shouldn’t be living in the city then. Why don’t you go and live in the suburbs.”

 

Insert a 10 second pause where I processed the full offensiveness of her remarks. The familiar indignant feeling that goes with such a classic culture clash moment rose up and crashed over me like a tidal wave but I took deep breath and it ebbed away as quickly as it came.  I fought the temptation to start talking about the dangers of dying your own hair and premature aging from sun baking but I didn’t let her get the better of me. I simply asked,

 

“Well is there a law against our cat being outside?”

“Um.. ahhh… eeeh… I think I must call the police then”

 

I smiled to myself at the absurdity of it all and we stood in silence for a moment while she glared at me expectantly.   Not wanting to be completely ungracious and unneigbourly I added,

 

“How about I discuss it with my husband and we’ll get back to you”

 

She huffed and puffed a little then stormed back to her house. 

 

Once she was gone I shut the door, turned around and laughed my head off. 

I’ve really come a long, long way. 


Posted by Suze at 6:49 PM MEST
Updated: Monday, 24 July 2006 6:53 PM MEST

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