So I'm reading this hilarious book called "My 'Dam Life" which is about this guy who moved to Amsterdam for three years with his wife and details his encounters with the Dutch. It is really funny, as is anything about cultural differences, but one of the many things that it drew my attention to was the Dutch toilet.
I'm not one for really focusing on the content of the toilet once one has used it, but I did notice that the Dutch toilet has what the book calls an "inspection shelf" upon which one's, ahem, waste sits prior to the flushing action. So as to provide an environment for, well, inspection. Interesting, no? Or, perhaps, as my mum said, revolting.
So I commented on this to Xander, who laughed heartily and said, yes, he didn't notice it really until the US, where we certainly do not even discuss bowel movements, thank you very much, much less actually look at them. Unless you are Al Bundy or Homer Simpson.
Today, Xander and I went into the city centre to run some errands, one of which was to pick up some "manly tools", as Xander puts it, for a couple of projects in the apartment. When we get home, he completes one successfully, and the other involves unscrewing the base of the toilet and caulking around the bottom. I hear a loud crack during this process and a loud expletive in English, one that begins with F and ends with K. The toilet, it seems, has lost a piece of porcelain. So off to the hardware store to purchase a new one. And this time Xander came home with a "deep flow" toilet, a la USA! How nice not to have to look at the product of my very efficient digestive system.
That project has morphed into a bit of a monster, and is still ongoing as I write this. But in his usual good-natured manner, Xander is doing it with a smile, with only the occasional uttering of his favorite English swear word.
So this weekend was lots of fun, mostly laying around (yes, watching the Discovery Channel and History Channel), cooking, some running.
We went out to meet some of his friends in Spijkenisse for some beers, and that was actually a ton of fun. Of course, Xander and I laughed the whole time, and I had fun chatting to his friends, too, who are amused most of all when I make fun of my ineptitude when it comes to pronouncing the Dutch g, pronounced "khay" with that sound that sounds like you have something stuck in your throat, a similar sound to the one in French which has evaded me since I've tried to say "Francais".
Sunday we went out again, as Xander is off work for a bit. We met Sander and Camilla again, and a couple of other friends, one of whom was this guy who immediately showed contempt for America and Americans. I was trying to ignore it, and simply discuss his feelings with him, but it was getting tiresome and the beer was flowing. So I said something to Xander, like the guy couldn't hear it across the table, and of course he did, and I felt like shit that I couldn't keep my big mouth shut as usual and just simply let him vent. He so wanted to find fault with everything, and I should have let him. It's only ignorance and small-mindedness that allows him to think this way. I mean, he's a HUGE South Park and Simpsons fan. I know those shows are a little disparaging about, well, everything, but they are American, after all. It was just frustrating. It's hard enough being in a new place with no friends or job or connection except for your boyfriend, who is in fact amazing, but you do feel sort of without a net sometimes. And you don't speak the language, etc etc, and you're just tired of this holier-than-thou attitude about America. I mean, yeah, I don't agree with what is going on now, and the war is completely out of control, and we were lied to about Iraq when we were most vulnerable, and I am one of the majority of Americans who want things to change. But I also know that, for example, the Dutch in the 17th century were running around enslaving people, trading spices, blowing up warships, etc. No one is free from blame. And it's okay to disagree with policies and to voice that disagreement, but don't take it out on a single person, the first time you meet her, and keep at her for an hour and a half. You know?
Ok, enough ranting. But I must say, he was the first Dutch person who has acted anything but friendly (if we understand one another, which is a whole other story) to me, so it's not like I feel unwelcome. I just think it made me think about how I react to people like that, that I should simply not let it bother me. I'm working on it!! One day at a time.
Really looking forward to Belgium this weekend, Xander and I are headed to Bruges on Friday and Brussels on Saturday. I am hoping to gain 5 pounds. Beer, beer, beer, chocolate, moules frites, etc etc. Come on! It's like the European version of New Orleans for me: all of my favorite foods in one place. If you call beer a food. Which I do. We may go to this National Park on Wednesday of this week, with the Kruller-Moller (I think that's the name) museum smack in the middle of it, which is one of the best museums in the country, full of Van Gogh, Rembrandt, etc.
Must away, and check on the toilet progress.
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