Universal Theory of Everything

Over the past 4 months, as I've bitched and purged on this blog, I've had time to reflect on what it is that makes living in Holland - and dealing with Dutch people - so crucifyingly and unredeemingly awful. I've obsessed over various issues and behaviours, trying to make sense of it all. Little did I suspect that there could be one unifying theory that could unite all of Holland's and the Dutchies' shortcomings in one, simple equation?

But I think I've come up with the answer.

Lack of confidence.

It doesn't seem profound or particularly insightful - but when you examine things a bit more closely, you can see that the one constant in all Dutchies' behaviour stems from a deap-seated lack of confidence.

Certainly, there are many causes for and effects of this situation. But the constant throughout is the innate absence of self-belief and confidence.

You don't believe me? Think of the things in your life that you're not confident about. Driving; anything to do with science, electricity or numbers; your ability to control your drinking at an office party and calling your boss by his secret nickname? Or are they just my issues?

Anyhow, think of your behaviour when you're confronted with someone, or a situation, with which you're not confident. Are you at your wittiest? Your friendliest? Your most magnanimous or charming? Typically, no. Instead, you run between aggressive ("that is not poshibolll"), or silent (shrug shoulders, or point), or trying evasive action ("that will take too much time"), or trying to avoid the situation completely ("that ish not my ressshponnshibility!!").

And think of the things that make you feel not confident. A lack of knowledge or familiarty; feelings of inadequacy; previous disappointments in life. Given the state of Dutch educational standards; the provincialism; the lack of interest in learning or experiencing new things, it's easy to see how rare it is for a Dutch person to feel truly confident.

In fact, though it surprises me to admit it, I have met a handful of open, competent, regular Dutch people during my year here. But without exception, they have all lived abroad and have completed (at least) third level education. Their decision to get out of their comfort zone, and look outside the province, has made them happier, and ultimately, more confident.

So, when you put all of this together, I guess I have worked through my hostility and now just feel a bit sorry for the poor Dutchies and their limited expectations and attitude.

This realisation, coupled with the fact that I am leaving Holland permanently in the New Year, means that now seems a good time to finish this blog. I've worked through my issues. Thanks to anyone who read this and enjoyed it.

Dooooooooooooook! Oy! Oy!

Reverse Psychology

I went to see the new Martin Scorsese picture at the weekend, 'The Departed', during which I learned that Sigmund Freud reputedly said that the Irish were the only people who would not benefit from psychoanalysis.

Hadn't he ever met a Dutch person? Actually, thinking about it, it's highly unlikely, as the Dutchies would have been too cheap and/or terrified to leave the province to visit Austria. Conversely, from what I've read, Freud seemed to be the kind of guy who had enough intellectual pursuits and stimulation to avoid the need to come to a swamp with no culture, populated by morons.

It's a shame, because I would love to have heard his take on the Dutchies and their sour, bitter, resentful, narrow-minded outlook on life. Forget Penis Envy, try Everything Envy.

In my own amateur and shambolic way, I have tried to apply some psychoanalytical strictures to the Dutch to see where I get to? I have never studied psychoanalysis, and have no training in it; nor have I experienced it at first hand. As I'm Irish, according to Freud, it wouldn't have done me much good anyway.

But one thing which I have noticed is that when you do unto Dutchies as they do unto you - a kind of reverse pyschological process - the results are wonderful! Not wonderful in the sense that you gain a fleeting insight into the mind of the Dutch; or you briefly discover what makes them tick; or you finally feel that you are making some kind of human connection. But wonderful in the sense that it really, really pisses them off.

This morning, on the train from Central Station to Schip-hole, I was sitting, minding my own business, looking out the window. This woman sat down across from me and proceeded to make a call. Clearly a simpleton, her vocabulary consisted of only 2 words: 'YA!' and 'lekker!', which she proceed to SCREAM down the phone in ever-more-convoluted combinations:

- YA! Lekker!!
- Lekker!! YA!!
- YA!! Lekker!!!!! YA!!
- Lekker!!! YA!!! Lekker!!! YA!!!!!
- YA!! Lekker!!! Lekker!!! YA!!!!

You get the idea.

Knowing enough about the Dutch, I decided the best course of action was to try to block out her sound. So I put on my iPod Shuffle and sat back. Within seconds, I was hit on the back of my shoulder by a purple-faced Dutchie, who bellowed 'Turn it down!!'

I could hear him bellowing this through the music I was listening to, as well as managing to catch Simpleton Woman SCREAMING "YA! Lekker!! YA!! YA!! YA!! Lekker!! YA!! YA!! Lekker!!! YA!!! YA!!!!". My iPod was not turned up to full volume - it was on its default factory setting when you first switch it on - about Level 5 on a scale of 1 to 10.

So I took out my earphones, looked at the guy, pointed at Simpleton Woman (who was oblivious), and said 'sorry, I'm just trying to drown out this woman's screaming a little bit.'

I put my earphones back in and resumed looking out the window at the flat, featureless, rain-sodden murk. This time Purple Face grabbed my arm and ROARED 'you turn it down!!'.

So I took out my earphones once more, turned, smiled, and said calmly and evenly "it is not possshibolll".

He was a bit stunned, just like I have been on so many ocassions.

"It is too loud!!", he roared, struggling to make himself heard over "YA! YA! YA! YA! Lekker! Lekker! Lekker! Ya! Lekker!"

I smiled serenely and said "live and let live!"

He clearly didn't know what to do or say, so spluttered once again, but with less conviction this time, "it is very loud - turn it down".

I smiled even more sweetly, and repeated "it is not possssssssshibolllllllllllllll!", turned, and put my earphones back in. Purple Face had no option, but to sit down - but he kept shooting me murderous looks for the remainder of my journey.

How wonderful! It was such a pleasure, for once, to be dishing out the "not possssshibollll" crap, instead of being on the receiving end. It was fascinating to watch his reaction; his feelings of rage combined with impotence, in the face of someone being irrationally uncooperative and sociopathic. I loved it!

And so an appeal: to anyone who's ever read this and has identified with the frustrations I've outlined about life in Holland, join me! Next time one of the Dutchies asks you to do something, even if you want to do it, or it would be the simplest thing in the world for you to do, tell them 'it is not possshiboll'. As they rant and rave, take your pick from any one of their inane put-downs:

- it will take too much time!
- it is not my resssshponssssshibility!
- live and let live!

The fightback starts here.

How To Spot A Foreigner

Returning from holiday recently, my post-holiday buzz (or what was left of it after a 12 hour flight on klm) was rudely shattered by the Dutch customs officer I met at Schip-hole.

- Him - Where are you coming from?
- Me - Hong Kong
- Him - What are you doing here in Holland?
- Me - I live here
- Him - Sprekken lekken Nederlands? [or something like that]
- Me - Excuse me?
- Him - You live here, but you don't speak Dutch?!
- Me - Of course not
- Him - Why not?!
- Me - Are you allowed talk to me like this?
- Him - Come this way!

So he leads us to the search area.

- Him - Did you buy anything in Hong Kong?
- Me - Naturally
- Him - What did you buy?!
- Me - Assorted items
- Him - But what did you buy?!
- Me - Well you're a customs officer, we're in a search area, my cases are right there: knock yourself out
- Him - you are free to go!

What the hell was that all about? Why, out of all the people streaming through Customs, had he stopped me? I was frankly too exhausted to analyse it at the time, but reflecting on it since then, it appears to be just another example of the Dutch provincial terror and loathing for anything 'foreign'.

Does that sound paranoid? I used to think it sounded a little bit crazy. After all, how do the Dutchies necessarily know that you are 'not from these parts' just by looking at you? Given how slow-witted they are, surely they can't have some sixth sense which identifies you as foreign, without you admitting the fact?

But then I realised that all the clues are there. It is abundantly obvious to anyone who is, and who isn't, from the Parish, by following some simple rules on 'how to spot a foreigner'.

They're not as obvious as 'wears nice clothes' or 'has washed recently' as there are some Dutchies who have relatives abroad who will send them money or soap. It's certain, key behavioural traits that give the game away, so that if you did any of the following, even wearing a peasant costume, clogs, 34 gallons of fake tan, and a stunned-but-bitter expression, people would still know you are foreign.

1. Buy Food For More Than One Meal At A Time

It's late (around 5.30 in Amsterdam), restaurants are closing in about 10 minutes - not that you'd want to eat at one - so you have to go to Al-turd Heijn to get some food. Look in the other shoppers' baskets. What do you see? Herring Risotto for one? Raw meat balls a deux? Or maybe your fancy neighbour who has notions has chosen something from Al-turd Heijn's 'Excellent' range? (Aren't there trade description laws here?).

Whatever. What all of these shoppers will have in common is the fact that they are buying essentials or a meal for that day only. But if you spot someone with a basket, or - gasp, a trolley! - full of food or other items intended to last more than the next 24 hours, they are a foreigner.

2. Observe Basic Manners

If you've ever travelled to or from Schiphol on the train, you know that those swing glass doors at the entrance to each carriage can be pretty lethal if they hit you full on. So think about the times when the person ahead of you has held the door for you, to prevent it from smacking into your face. Anyone who has ever done this is a foreigner.

3. Anticipate Others' Movements

Remember when you lived or visited somewhere normal? Somewhere busy, dynamic and bustling? Where there were lots of people, doing lots of interesting, different things? Where the entire town or city did not wake up with the same thought every Saturday: 'Must Walk Slowly Up And Down Kalverstraat But Buy Nothing'.

In these other places, where thousands of people are rushing around, doing stuff, ironically, it is quite rare for someone to bump into you, and certainly unheard of to have someone deliberately and ponderously walk straight into you. Think about it.

Busy places are busy because, typically, they attract successful, dynamic people who value novelty, variety and fun. And these people can respect each other enough to see someone walking towards them and move out of their way, or naturally fall into a city's rhythm of 'slow lanes' and 'fast lanes' on the pavements. You don't believe me? Go somewhere normal, like London or Paris and see it in action.

In Amsterdam, it's rather different. If you see someone do this: try to walk quickly, with a sense of purpose; or anticipate someone else's movement and get out of their way, they are a foreigner.

4. Perform A Simple Transaction In Under 40 Minutes

You're in a queue for a simple service; one which should take about 30 seconds to effect. Not a mortgage application; not a CAT scan; not a heart, lung and kidney transplant. Something more straightforward like buying a cinema ticket.

Go, for example, to the ticket line at Pathe Tuschinski. Observe how it takes the Dutchies up to 30 minutes to buy a cinema ticket. What are they saying to each other? 'Is this a cinema?'; 'What do you mean? - moving pictures??';'How do the people get into the screen?'.

Anyone in front of you who goes to the ticket window, says what they want, has their cash ready, and walks away in under 1 minute with their tickets, is a foreigner.

5. Carry Take Out Coffee

Walk on any street in London or New York - or any normal city - and you will almost immediately see someone walking with a Starbucks or other take out coffee. Perform this observation between 7 a.m. and 10 a.m. Monday to Friday and you'll notice that the number of people doing this is in the hundreds.

By contrast, have you ever seen someone walking with take out coffee in Amsterdam? Think about it. Maybe once or twice? Those people, the ones you saw doing this - foreigners!

6. Laugh Or Smile Warmly At Something Other Than Someone Farting Or Falling Over

This one is the real give away. Scour the streets of Amsterdam looking for a warm, smiling face. If you find one, quickly scan and smell the immediate vicinity of the person in question. Did someone just blow ass? Or do you see someone who's just tripped over, or fallen, or been injured or mugged? Yes - and the smiling person is a Dutchie. No - and they are a foreigner.