Learning the Lingo

If you've read this blog before, you'll already know that most of it is centered around my trials and tribulations with the language (and culture) of my adopted homeland.  So this one won't really be out of the ordinary.

This week's Xpat Blog Hop is all about language and learning the native tongue of the land you live in.  When I first moved to the Netherlands, I had absolutely no intention of learning Dutch.  Aside from being able to order a beer and catch the bus, I didn't care.  This was only going to be a short term solution and I would be out of here, back in the land of the Cashed Up Bogan (or Australia, as you may better know it as) within a couple of years.  Why waste the energy right?  Plus, Maarten was perfectly happy that I didn't speak Dutch.  Let's face it, his English is almost as good as mine.  It's probably best left unmentioned that he speaks German, Spanish and a bit of French as well.

However, there was always a pesky little voice in the back of my head shaming me and my lack of Dutch.  I was always embarrassed to answer "18 months" when asked how long I've been living here.  It was made worse by the constant "How's your Dutch?" questions.  Perhaps it was because my sensitivity to the topic was so enhanced, but it felt like every single time I would meet a new person, it would be the second question they asked me (after "Why move to Holland?!).

Then The Summons arrived and I was expected to front up for inburgering at the local city council office, and was dragged pretty much kicking and screaming to classes.  It took me eight months to pass the integration course, and almost that long again to find the time to collect my diploma!  But the big question is, how has it affected my life?

I'm not going to sugar coat it, learning Dutch was (who am I kidding, IS!) hard.  Especially as a native English speaker with limited second language exposure.  I did study French and Indonesian at school, but never to levels high enough to exist in those countries in my opinion.  The grammar is about face, the sentences are back to front, and just ask any immigrant to the Netherlands how many times a Dutchie has insisted they pronounce "Scheveningen" for kicks!

However, the rewards have been endless.  I can actually have a conversation with Maarten's non-English grandparents without breaking into a cold sweat (this was one thing that kept me going in the days I was really struggling).  Same goes for talking to little Dutch kids.  I'm going through as much of my midwife appointments speaking only Dutch as I can.  Now I receive compliments about my Dutch.  But, by far the biggest compliment for me is having a Dutch continue conversation with me as normal when I speak in Dutch.  There are no hesitations, no switching to English, no smart remarks about my accent (I have been told I sound like Princess Maxima, brag brag), just conversation.  

Learning to speak Dutch has enriched my life no end, I don't regret it for a second.  I just wish I was better at it.  I'll get there.

It's that time of week

Expat Blog Hop time, that is.

This week's topic is:

What was the hardest thing for you to adjust to when you moved to your new country? What tips would you give for new people arriving?

The obvious answer is of course, having to make new friends.  But, I bang on about that old chestnut all the time, so instead I'll think of something else.

Erm...

The weather?  No.  Again, too tiresome to read about, especially after we've just gone through the wettest summer on record here in the Netherlands.

Although it was not necessarily the hardest thing to adjust to, driving on the opposite side of the road has been a big challenge.  Not that I drive.  I'm too tight to fork out the thousand plus euros to start again when it comes to getting my driver's license.

Working as a tour guide it would  crack me up every single time a European tried getting on the wrong side of the bus, until my very first trip to the Netherlands where I stepped off the plane and tried to get into the driver's seat of Maarten's car.  He *might* have fallen over laughing at me.  It took me a while to get used to, and then the first day on the road back in Australia I managed to pull up at a round a bout on the wrong side of the road!  And, what actually made me think of this topic as a major challenge:  yesterday evening I tried to get into the driver's seat again!  I haven't done that for about three years!  I'm putting it down to being a tired, pregnant woman.  That'll work as an excuse, won't it?

Then came the next weird concept - giving way to the right.  Hang on, in Australia we drive on left and give way to the right, but in the Netherlands we drive on the right and also give way to the right?  Absolutely doesn't make sense.  Surely the rules should be opposite, right?  Right?!

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Instead drivers are always (supposed to be) on the look out for cars and bicycles who will nip around a corner in front of them at any given moment because they have right of way (except in controlled conditions, of course).  Being a nervous passenger (it's the cause of many, many arguments, poor Maarten) I'm always stomping on my imaginary brakes and grabbing whatever I can to brace! brace!  Maybe the fear would go away if I drove, but I think it has more to do with us owning such a small car.  There's no way that it would come out of any crash unscathed.

And then there's the freeway antics!  The tailgating, swerving in and out of lanes, cutting people off, the excessive speed, the horrendous traffic jams.  It astounds me that the road death toll is so low.  Having said that, I think Dutch drivers are all in all more competent than their Australian counterparts.  More vigilant, don't hog the middle/fast lane unnecessarily, can handle more varied situations better.  Until, of course they find themselves on an open road in The Outback....

So, whilst not the hardest thing to adjust to, being on the wrong side of the road has been a big adjustment.

My big tip for newbies (from countries unused to driving on the right side of the road, or from outside Europe), don't panic when a car suddenly pulls out in front of you, chances are they actually have right of way!

Expat BlogHop - False Expectations

This week has flown by and it's already Thursday and time to post in Windmill Tales'
regular Expat BlogHop.  Here's this week's theme:

Before you moved to the country you are in now, whyat expectations, ideas (things you though happened, things people did, etc) did you have then, that proved to be not true at all?

I think that I was pretty clued up about the Netherlands before I moved here.  After all, I had been commuting backwards and forwards for a year before I made the jump.  I knew almost nobody wore clogs any more and that tulips are not actually Dutch (just ask the Turkish, they'll tell you) and that hardly anybody is any sort of drug user.  One thing I did believe however, was that Dutchies would be the same as Australians.  You know, easy going.

Ah, no.

In my years of tour guiding I had met (and loved) countless Dutchies.  In fact, if you ask any tour guide in Australia, almost every single one will tell you that Dutchies are THE BEST passengers to have on tour.  Flexible, fun loving, enjoy a drink, and have a get on with it mentality.  Just like most Australians.  So, I thought it would be a walk in the park and moving to the Netherlands would be just like coming home.

Except it wasn't.

Honestly, I was expecting to have myself a new Dutch BFF within three weeks of landing.  I was expecting to go out for Friday night drinks with my colleagues every week.  I’d be hosting regular dinner parties.  I didn't realise what a rude shock I was in for.  I'm still looking for my Dutch BFF three years later.  I've had drinks with colleagues only a few times, and always at organised events.  Making dinner plans is always such an ordeal.  

Having to make dinner plans a month in advance with friends is just not for me.  I refuse to believe that a person is so busy that the only free evening they have is a Tuesday in five weeks time.  Absolutely refuse to believe it.  Special events I can absolutely understand.  but a casual evening with a bowl of pasta?  Ah, no.

Don't for one moment think that this is an "Australians are better" post.  I'm not so naiive.  I realise that Australians can be so easy going that it's almost impossible to make a decent plan.  Traits that I was perfectly used to when I was living in Australia are now almost unbearable.  Waiting until you get somewhere to make a plan?  Changing your mind fifteen times before choosing a place to eat?  Behaving as though running a half hour late is ok and acceptable without a phone call?  No thanks.

Now I'm used to the differences and understand that I should not have based my expectations of a couple of hundred people on holiday.  Something interesting that I’ve noticed however:  many of my other lovepat friends met their husbands whilst on holiday and have also struggled to adapt here as the people are so different to what they expected.  So is it our fault that we have these expectations, or are the Dutch just so good at integrating into their location at any given time, they give a false expectation as to what it’s like at home?

Just sayin’...

Back my tour guide days