Category: Life

fun questions to ask couples

photo credit: Adam Foster | Codefor via photopin cc
photo credit: Adam Foster | Codefor via photopin cc

Marc and I were sitting on the benches at Café Jan Primus, near the University College Utrecht campus. It’s still a bit chilly at night to be sitting outside, but Torun, Marc’s dog, keeps farting.

“I’m telling you Wesley, it’s driving me nuts.”

Marc loves Torun regardless, but we sit outside anyway as a courtesy to the other patrons. Torun’s diet will have to change, but for now, the fresh air will do.

Dave and Merel came by to say hello. They had been drinking earlier — but oh, why not one more beer? Marc is here. And next to him is some kid who’s obviously not from around town.

We chat for a bit.

~

Marc went to the bathroom, so it was just Dave, Merel, and I for a moment.

Dave would tell me what it meant express gratitude, and what it means to find happiness and fulfillment in life. This was a familiar conversation, but the oxygen tank connected to his chair must have added extra weight to his words.

I told him I didn’t know what I was doing. He told me I had plenty of time, and that he didn’t know either, other than that he’s becoming more comfortable with himself. It wasn’t until he was thirty that he fully accepted his condition.

Even at the age of forty he still has self-doubt. That part never goes away. But for him, it’s not as suffocating as it once was.

I find that notion oddly comforting.

~

Some fun questions I like to ask couples in long-term relationships:

1) How did you two meet?
Perhaps there’s a story shared between the two. In Dave’s case, his guide dog became the first conversation topic between he and his future wife.

[On another note, being with a dog tends to make you more approachable as a man, at least to strangers — provided that the other person is not afraid of dogs.]

2) How has she influenced you?
I asked Dave how Merel influenced him. Merel was already attentive in the conversation, but I could already see her perk up.

Dave gives it some thought, then answers. Merel shared with Dave what it means to relax and enjoy life, instead of having to put on a serious face all the time because people expected him to.

I turn to Merel, and ask:

3) And how has he influenced you?
Merel gives it some thought, then answers. Dave shared with Merel what it means to be self-reliant and confident in your own abilities — instead of feeling helpless by circumstances you can’t control.

~

The things Dave and Merel mentioned were probably similar to what they say to each other in private.

But I’ve noticed that telling other people how much someone else means to you gives those special words even more weight.

The two were already in a good mood, but perhaps even better now.

~

Marc came back from the bathroom. I excused myself and went as well. I had been holding my pee this entire time, because keeping the conversation going was more important.

Woensdag is schaatsdag (or: kissing the ice goodbye)

Bambi-And-Thumper-On-Ice-1440x900-Wallpaper-ToonsWallpapers.com-

Jaap says I skate like a prostitute — with my legs wide open. To say that I look like Bambi on ice would be more politically correct, but Jaap’s way of phrasing things is more entertaining. Some people say he’s a lompe boer, or a farmer who behaves or says things in a crude way.  (It’s a term of endearment).

And while I never really did manage to close up my legs, I’ve improved to the point where I’m no longer stumbling after after every stride. I’m no longer the foreigner on the team who can’t skate. Now I’m just the foreigner.

~

The ice rinks are closing as the weather becomes warmer.

But before you can leave the ice rink, there are two things you must do (or at least this is what the Utrecht team does):

  1. Skate in the opposite direction.

Traditionally, you skate counter-clockwise around the track. You go straight, and turn left around the corner, and that’s really about all you do. Not once did I have to make a conscious effort did I have to turn right.

So imagine what it’s like to turn right for the first time in months. I couldn’t do it, and neither could most of the team. People would hold hands and lean on each other as support.

2. Jog one lap barefoot around the ice track.

Or two, if you’re feeling particularly daring. The ice is cold to the point that it sticks to your bare feet, so there are no worries about slipping and falling on your bum.

~

Back in September when I was planning what I wanted to do during the year, I wanted to speed skate because:

  1. It’s typical Dutch. It’s the one and only sport the Dutch go nuts for during the Olympics, and the one sport they dominate. And if studying abroad is all about experiencing different cultures, why not give the national sport a shot?
  2. It’s novel, it’s cool, and it’s something I wouldn’t be able to do back home in California. I wanted to try something new, and the thought of zipping around the ice at high speeds appealed to me.
  3. And okay, maybe I wanted to see what it was like to wear those skin-tight body suits. Jaap let me borrow his for a week and I felt like the top banana. 
Vechtsebanen
De Vechtsebanen, where I would skate during the winter.

~

Woensdag is schaatsdag.

Every Wednesday at 9:30 PM, I would bike forty minutes to De Vechtsebanen for skating practice. We would skate until midnight and then go for a cup of tea, some warm Chocomel with whipped cream, or some beers to make it a brisk trip back home. I often wouldn’t be back home until 2 or 3 AM, although that’s also due to my habit of stopping by the student bar to say hello to the regulars —  a hello that often lasted for at least an hour.

I did that every week for six months. Speed skating (and the usual routine associated with it) was something I looked forward to on a regular basis, so it feels odd to have that gone now.

–

I’ll be back on the ice soon enough.

Jantelov, or Law of Jante

Photo by Ryan McGuire.
Photo by Ryan McGuire.

There’s a certain bar in Utrecht that gets busier the closer it is to sunrise. It’s not the most savory spot. The lighting is dark in a shady way, and it’s a bit sketchy in that I was generously offered hash within three seconds of walking in. But the bartender (and presumably owner) said that he’s been working there for over thirty years, so there must be something redeeming about this place. When all the other bars close, this one spurs to life.

I was inside with a Danish friend, Marcus, who wears a pencil as an earring. In we went at 3 AM, and out we went smelling like cigarettes at 6 AM. We don’t even smoke.

~

Marcus would tell me stories about how he grew up between two lakes and the ocean — how grateful he is for his family, his friends back home, and how he’s changed over the years. It’s one of his last weeks here in Utrecht, so naturally he’s in a reflective mood.

But one thing in particular stuck out to me — every time he finished a story, he would say:

“Well, enough about me. I want to hear more about you.”

And that’s when he told me about Jantelov, or the Law of Jante.

~

Jantelov is tenfold.

  1. You’re not to think you are anything special.
  2. You’re not to think you are as good as us.
  3. You’re not to think you are smarter than us.
  4. You’re not to convince yourself that you are better than us.
  5. You’re not to think you know more than us.
  6. You’re not to think you are more important than us.
  7. You’re not to think you are good at anything.
  8. You’re not to laugh at us.
  9. You’re not to think anyone cares about you.
  10. You’re not to think you can teach us anything.

[It’s not an actual law, just an idea expressed by the Danish-Norwegian novelist Aksel Sandemose.]

Jantelov sounds harsh to American audiences, if only because American culture yearns and screams for individuality and gargantuan proportions at every opportunity. From an extremist point of view, it almost seems that Jantelov encourages you tear out the lone tulip in the poppy field.

But that’s not the case here. Ideally, it’s more like a desire for egalitarianism, with everyone being treated equally and held in equal esteem.

And that night, to Marcus, it meant being conscious of how much he was speaking about himself.

“Enough about me; I want to hear more about you.“

~

I like that statement. It’s a friendly invitation to speak and share more, and can encourage even the quietest conversation partners to express themselves (but only after you’ve opened up first).

Conversations need two people contributing — equal parts listening, and equal parts sharing. Have only one person speak the entire night and it’s just another interview, regardless of how well the other person “listens”.

 

~~~~

Further reading:
Crystal Lee Möller writes an interesting blurb about Jantelov here, and how American and Scandinavian work cultures may clash due to differing interpretations on individualism and egalitarianism.

warm winters

“Did you watch the news tonight? There are Dutch speedskaters practicing in the Yellow River!”

One month into winter and there’s still no snow on the ground, much to the dismay of international students who have only experienced one season their entire lives. It’s unusually warm this year, even if it’s still hat-and-scarf weather. The only ice you’ll see in Utrecht comes from the occasional hailstorm, and even that doesn’t last too long. Some Dutch people have to go abroad to get their skating fix on natural ice.

I’m still crossing my fingers though. Perhaps February will be the month that the canals and lakes freeze over.

Gelukkig Nieuwjaar! (2014)

That’s what the cute animals on the Dutch Hallmark greeting cards say to welcome the new year.

Deciding to change your life for the better during the New Year is like deciding to finally love on Valentine’s Day. It’s still a tradition worth taking seriously though. Yes, even if people set themselves up for disappointment by setting unrealistic goals. And yes, even if the failure rate for the typical resolution is 90%+ within the first month. Because who knows, someone might actually make it.

Plus, it wouldn’t be fair of me to bash New Years Resolutions if I regularly use it as a conversation starter.

~

Some concerns at the start of the new year — or at least the first ones that come to mind:

    • Cooking: I’ve eaten the Dutch food, but what about properly making it? I think it would be nice to learn how to make some dishes to show the folks back in California. It’d also be a nice change of pace when I don’t feel like having pasta at night again. And why stop at Dutch food?
    • Correspondence: Why am I slow when it comes to responding to people, whether through  e-mail or handwritten letters? It’s not because I’m overwhelmed by an unending pile of messages. I like to give letters proper care and time, but there’s a difference between procrastination and thoughtfulness.
    • Speed skating: Learn how to make that criss-cross motion with the legs while turning.
    • Communicating: How can I connect with people? How can I make other people feel understood, and make myself understood? And how can I use the insights from the first two questions to improve my current relationships?
    • Learning Dutch: I’ve hit a plateau. How can I improve at this point? Do I want to improve? If I stop now, I’ll still be ahead of most other international students (as if comparing myself to other people was ever a reliable measurement). If I continue, I risk investing valuable time and energy towards learning a language I will just as easily forget within a few months of leaving the country. So the question for me is — is learning Dutch worth that risk? Hint: I still think so.
    • And in general, just to hammer the point in: Am I taking enough risks?

~

Most resolutions tend to have a common theme. Explore more, do more. Be more. Living in a foreign country (which feels less and less foreign every day) almost takes care of the first two by default.

And the last? That’s up to the person asking.

thanksgiving abroad

Thanksgiving as a holiday doesn’t exist in the Netherlands. International students hear about it all the time and are curious about what it is. “What does turkey taste like?” “Can we have a Thanksgiving dinner, too?” The Canadian students say that they have their own version some time in August, but even then it’s not such a big deal as in the U.S.

The coordinators responsible for setting up the exchange program threw a Thanksgiving dinner for the all the Californian students. Turkey, potatoes, green beans, mushrooms, the whole deal. I thought it was a generous gesture, and it was interesting to see what a lot of the Californian students have done since summer orientation. How have the friend groups changed? Did the Californians stick around Californians for the entire semester, or did they branch out and go out of their comfort zone?

~

Thanksgiving may just be another day, but it never hurts to remind myself of how amazing I have it in life. I have a good family. Good friends. Good childhood. Good education. Those qualities alone already put me at an advantage over most of the world — but nope, now I also get the opportunity to  pack my bags and live in another country for an entire year. Pretty sure I’m living someone else’s dream right now.

And yet, I feel an odd sense of guilt. Without my parents’ financial support, there’s no way I could have studied abroad in the Netherlands, let alone afford the plane ticket. (Tutoring young children in English during the summer only goes so far). Why do I this opportunity, and not someone else? Someone else more compassionate, more diligent, more deserving?

A combination of dumb luck and the hard work of those who came before me can answer that question, but it doesn’t offer an answer to this — how can I ever repay this? (and I don’t mean in the financial sense)

I can’t.

But there is one thing I can do to show gratitude, and one thing you can do as well if you find yourself in a similar situation:

Share that same generosity in spirit with the people you meet everyday. When someone shares something from their own life, be it a story or tradition, respond in kind. Or at the very least, acknowledge them.

It would be a terrible waste of all the other days of the year if generosity or gratitude were only reserved for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

the comfort of finals week

Not to be too cheeky, but there is a certain kind of relief I feel when finals week comes around. Not the stress and tension in the room as people study or procrastinate, but the fact that I now have a single goal and focus — to study and do well on the exams. On a regular week, the combination of unlimited opportunities for fun and the fear of missing out can paralyze me. But now, I can study without having to feel guilty that I’m not “making the most” out of my exchange year. Being on exchange affords some shenanigans and recklessness, but there are some basic responsibilities that students must tend do.

The threat of an incoming exam makes it easier to study. The fact that everyone else is studying for finals makes it easier as well. (Well, except for the Master’s students, but they’ve got their own set of problems). You could even say that this is positive peer pressure, depending on your opinion of traditional methods of teaching and accreditation.

But even on finals week there are still distractions. On Friday I told myself I would have a quiet night. That I would have some drinks in town with friends to relax after a day of studying, and then go straight to bed so I could wake up early in the morning to study again. Two hours later I was in the Stairway to Heaven cafe in Mariasplaat getting sprayed by glow-in-the-dark paint.

There isn’t much of a party hard, study hard culture in Utrecht, in that people turn into hermits and grind their noses into the books during the weekday and then shed their cocoon and go wild during the weekend. Goofing off and working are much more spread out. With the exception of maybe Monday night, you can go for a night out every day of the week if you really wanted to.

So it’s up to you to set up constraints for yourself. Besides, parties and meetups with friends are more fun when you’re not carrying around emotional baggage from unfulfilled responsibilities.

But then again, humans are good at justifying just about anything.