Bevrijdingsdag (Liberation Day) is the day after Remembrance Day in the Netherlands. The Dutch celebrate Bevrijdingsdag like the Americans celebrate the 4th of July (but with fewer fireworks — the Dutch are not allowed to blow them up until New Year’s Eve).
You can find picnics and barbecues all over the parks in town. The larger parks often have music festivals, complete with what you would expect at your typical outdoor festival — portable standing urinals (no equivalent for the ladies, which leads to resentment), fried foods and expensive beer. The Park Transwijk in Utrecht holds one such festival. Over 38,000 people were there when I went.
In Park Transwijk, near the district of Kanaleneiland in Utrecht.
It’s also one of the rare moments you’ll see Dutch flags flying from people’s homes. As proud as the Dutch people are, they only show their national pride a few times a year — and only during public holidays like this.
The Dam Square in Amsterdam, right in front of the Royal Palace. The empty passageway in the middle is where the King and Queen walk to lay the ceremonial wreath.
Every 4th of May, there is a national moment of silence in the Netherlands from 8 PM to 8:02 PM. For two minutes, the entire country comes to a standstill. No trains, trams, or buses are left running, television and radio stations end their programming, and everybody stops where they are.
I was with my neighbor Maja in the Dam Square in Amsterdam during those two minutes. To be in a crowd of 20,000 people in the busiest city of the Netherlands, and hear not even a single whisper — that was special. Nobody was told what to do. Everybody already knew.
Only the birds were still moving.
–
Queen Maxima in front. King Willem-Alexander by her side.
King Willem-Alexander and Queen Maxima walked out of the Royal Palace, and towards the pillar. People craned their necks and stood on the tips of their toes just to get a peek.
[at the intersection of Weg tot de Wetenschap and Weg naar Rhijnauwen, the main turn before reaching the university campus].
I was biking towards the city center when I bumped into Rob from Germany. Rob repaired the rear brakes on my bike about a month ago. Before that, I had let my roommate Brian borrow the busted bike for brief trips. Just use your feet! I told him.
~
Rob was in a sticky situation. Someone stole his bike — only it wasn’t Rob’s bike in the first place. His friend was in Paris, and she let him borrow it for the weekend. So not only would he have to walk all the way back home in Zeist (quite far away), but he would also have to explain to his friend what just happened.
“And it’s her birthday tomorrow, too!”
~
Rob tells me that this is just a minor problem in the grand scheme of things. He has good friends. He lives in a lively, gorgeous city. He has a great life by all accounts. His friend won’t be too thrilled about losing her main form of transportation, but they’ll probably laugh about it within a week or two.
[But still, for a student this kinda sucks.]
~
Rob needs to run if he wants to get back home while it is still bright.
He takes off his sandals and continues barefoot, but not before giving me a chocolate Easter egg.
Easter holidays are here in Utrecht — this includes the two days after Easter itself. And while the Netherlands isn’t a religious country, the cities and people still take advantage of the extra rest.
The Dutch are punctual people. It’s 3:58 PM. The doors open once again at 4:00 PM.
Still, it’s nice to have the grocery store open, even if it’s later during the day.
Long ago he was assigned to be my student mentor. I imagined we would chat about our life at home, share food, and go on adventures together — all in the interest of “cultural exchange”.
We met each other once and then became occasional one minute “how’s the weather” conversation buddies instead.
~
Back in December he wrote me on Facebook.
“for one of my courses me and my projectgroup have to make a short promotion video for a website we are making. In this video we want to put someone that doesn’t look Dutch…Do you want to help us?”
Huh? What do you mean, doesn’t look Dutch?! Grrrr! I remember asking myself what that meant.
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.
It’s the special kind of dizziness you get from spinning around too much.
Sometimes I feel this while when running down the stairs from the top floor of the apartment building. Dutch staircases are famous for being narrow and steep to save money.
I wonder if the same feeling applies if I’m looking at M.C. Escher’s “Relativity”.
My neighbor Maja walks up and down fourteen flights of stairs each time she returns and leaves home. Not once has she taken the elevator the entire time she’s been living here in Cambridgelaan. Even in large groups, if people are taking the elevator, she will still be taking the stairs.
Is it out of principle? Habit? Health? Or just plain stubborn? Perhaps it’s a combination of them all.
–
My neighbor Brian and I are doing the same: taking the stairs up and down. The lift has a habit of breaking down with people inside of them anyway.
The ethics committee at Utrecht University governs what can and can’t be done in scientific experiments, especially in psychology and social neuroscience. Experiments with any threat of inflicting psychological or physical harm on a participant are forbidden. (e.g. Milgram, Stanford Prison Experiment)
A shame really, because those experiments are often the most cited, and revealing.
[In other words, the glory days of psychology are long gone.]
Freud meant no harm.
Having an ethics committee sounds good (and morally sound) in principle, but now it just leads to a whole bunch of bureaucracy and paperwork. Graduate students and professors complain about how it takes years just to get approval for some experiments.
~
“Do we have to worry about the ethics committee?” asked Marissa. We are in a study group together and we need to come up with a project proposal within two weeks.
“Not here.” said the professor. “They’re quite good.”
