Category: Netherlands

Or “good heart”, the name of the man who gave us directions to Lombok, the multicultural district of Utrecht. Before I can even say hello to him, he asked how he could help — and this just through eye contact. He ended up walking with us for thirty minutes. Seventy-two and retired twice — first when he was sixty and working at a water management plant in Surinam, and second when he was seventy and moved with his wife to the Netherlands (her wish, he says). Seventy-two and no cane, and with wrinkles that almost made a permanent smile. Seventy-two and yet, looked fifty-two.

“Oh, I’m also learning Hindu now. I like world languages.”

Sometimes I wonder if people who are named after different virtues like Patience or Faith actually live up to them, or if they’re so self-conscious about whether their actions line up with their name that they either hold themselves up to superhuman standards or give up entirely. I wouldn’t know, but it seemed like Goedhart took it in stride.

The people I’ve met here in the Netherlands so far are very kind, as are many other people in the world. Being named “good heart” isn’t a requirement for being a decent human being, but it doesn’t hurt.

I asked the shopkeeper if he had any advice for a new bicyclist in the Netherlands. It was rush hour, and the traffic was intimidating.

“Uh, just go.”

Before this I had spent most of my time on the sidewalk, not knowing where the bike lane started or where the bike lane ended, and scurrying to the side whenever I heard a bell or someone calling. Bikes here have the right of way, and you’re expected to move the hell out, not the other way around. I’m eyeballing this, but the number of bikes on the road at once outnumber cars and other vehicles by at least 50:1 in Utrecht. Biking back in UCSD was nothing compared to this.

And as unhelpful as I thought the shopkeeper’s advice was at first, there really was no other way to learn how to bike around town, other than following the Dutch bikers and doing what they do. When to pass a cyclist, where to turn, where to stop, or even when to ignore the streetlight — although it’s a good idea to err on the side of caution for now.

The same applies for learning a new language. Sure, there are textbooks and language tutors available (and the Dutch people I have met so far are more than happy to demonstrate the correct pronunciation of the word), but the bulk of the learning will still be my responsibility.

Learning by doing is proposed as the cure-all for any sort of ignorance a person may suffer from. And while experience may be the best teacher, her lessons don’t come without a cost. I could cause a pile-up on Janskerkhof. I could feel like a fool when I ask someone hoe gaat het, or how they’re doing, and I can’t understand a single part of their response. 

But it’s better than the alternative — instead of hiding behind what is comfortable or what is known, dodging every bike and wondering what it would be like to zip along the road so graciously, you could actually find out for yourself.

The fact that no one in the Netherlands will know me can have some interesting implications. There are no people to remind me of the past. Any person I’ve known in my life, friend or foe, will be living nine time zones away. This means that (if I really wanted to) I could forge a new identity. I can become whoever I want. I can be the stud I’ve always wanted to be. The man who can command the respect and attention of any room with his stories, and inspires others to live out theirs. The man who moves mountains, saves orphans from chemical fires during the day and returns home to give his momma a kiss good night.

(The Dos Equis “Most Interesting Man in the World” campaign comes to mind).

But it’s not that simple. Character is built slowly — grown and cultivated over a long period of time. The same character and attitude that has guided me in past decisions will be there to guide me in the Netherlands. Any personal change can only come about after acknowledging, processing, and ultimately, accepting my past. Otherwise, I’ll just be in a perpetual state of running away from my problems. Then, travel, which is so often lauded as a way to discover the self, will just be another coping mechanism with which I can avoid whatever bothers me.

Being in an unfamiliar environment can accelerate this desired growth, but it’s not the magic bullet to instantly becoming the kind of person I want to be. It’ll take time, but I feel that things have a way of working out as long as I put my mind to it.

That being said, I still welcome the change of pace.

Oh, what am I saying? I’m so excited for this opportunity. I just thought it was necessary to be mindful of a potential pitfall such as this.