One of the most fascinating things to me so far has been observing the difference between the primary holiday celebration in the US and the primary holiday celebration in NL: Sinterklaas.
I'm going to assume that most readers are familiar with the American Christmas holiday, celebrated on the 25th of December, presided over by Santa Claus and requiring the spending of vast amounts of money on things that are not needed and often little appreciated, in order to be considered a "good Christmas." This in a country where nearly 80% of the population self-identifies as some form of Christian. So I'll just talk about the Dutch celebration, making note that only half of the Dutch population self-identifies as Christian.
Sinterklaas arrives in NL by steamboat (Sinterklaas lives in Spain), the third week of November. Sinterklaas, while having like Santa Claus a semi-superhuman current physical embodiment for the entertainment of small children, is an actual historical figure, Saint Nicholas--a Catholic bishop who died in the middle of the fourth century. The Saint was the Mother Teresa figure of his time, having spent enormous amounts of time and energy helping the poor, primarily in Turkey. De Goedheiligman "the good holy man," as he's sometimes called in Dutch, dresses in red bishop's robes and a pointed bishop's hat.
After a couple of weeks of visiting children and making various appearances, Sinterklaas's festivities culminate on the 5 December (the eve of the death day of Saint Nicholas). These celebrations have of course changed over time. And while a core difference between Christmas and Sinterklaas (the Dutch celebrate both) is that Sinterklaas's holiday makes no claim of connection to the birth of Christ, the current iteration of this holiday honors with true meaning the rest of what Christmas ought to be. I'll leave the discussion of whether Christmas really honors the birth of Christ to another forum for debate. It's not the point of this blog.
What did inspire this blog is an article in the local paper today, Sigaretten van papier mache, "Paper mache cigarettes." I'll translate part of it for you:
"The [tradition of the] surprise gift became popular in 1945. Even children who no longer believed in the Good Holy Man kept honoring Sinterklaas in the 50s and 60s. They no longer just got presents, but they began now to give them to their parents, brothers and sisters. Pakjesavond (Presents Evening) became something for the whole family. And due to the changed relationships within the family, the way Sinterklaas evening was celebrated also changed.
"For example, before pakjesavond names began to be exchanged. It wasn't about how expensive the gifts were, but about how much thought went into them. Mother would rather get from her son a self-knitted sock with holes in it than silk hose. The emotional worth became of primary importance.
"Likewise, the Father changed from the Boss of the family to someone with whom you can make little jokes. So it became possible to tease him a little: for example giving him a huge paper-mache cigarette if he can't stop smoking. His inability to stop smoking would be highlighted in an accompanying poem. And if his beloved daughter had a few too many admirers, then father might craft in his workshop a handful of broken hearts for her.
"This new openness and egalitarianism between parents and their children is the cause for the Sinterklaas surprise gift tradition becoming so popular."
I don't know whether the changes within the Dutch family caused or resulted from traditions such as these, but this whole mindset, and the warm atmosphere of a close family engaging in such a ritual, with the time and effort each has put into preparing for the evening, must be acknowledged as a far more profound way to honor the true spirit of Christmas than maxing out a credit card.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Going Dutch
Those of you who know me well know that I have random conversations. Regularly.
And so it was that eating frikandel, having my very special person tell me that it's pig's brains (it is not) led to a discussion of my beloved sister's almost-wedding (the brains vs ham argument between a 7th Day Adventist family and a Baptist family led to the couple eloping), followed by comparison of Dutch and American weddings.
Dutch weddings are simple affairs, rarely proceeded by formal engagements and generally entered into once the decision has been made by a couple to have children together or for other civil reasons. We talked about how on the one hand American weddings are often monstrous, costly affairs but how some communities have customs to offset this such as a money dance that can recoup the wedding costs entirely, making the grand wedding a community affair and not a burden to either parents or newlyweds.
This led my very special person to mention that when you are invited in Holland to an American Party, it means that you are expected to bring your own refreshments of choice. It's a BYOB potluck. When I replied that in the US, Going Dutch means that everyone pays their own way, we both had a good laugh.
Tomorrow's blog (barring some startling event that bumps the topic): Pakjesavond. A lesson in the meaning of Christmas.
And so it was that eating frikandel, having my very special person tell me that it's pig's brains (it is not) led to a discussion of my beloved sister's almost-wedding (the brains vs ham argument between a 7th Day Adventist family and a Baptist family led to the couple eloping), followed by comparison of Dutch and American weddings.
Dutch weddings are simple affairs, rarely proceeded by formal engagements and generally entered into once the decision has been made by a couple to have children together or for other civil reasons. We talked about how on the one hand American weddings are often monstrous, costly affairs but how some communities have customs to offset this such as a money dance that can recoup the wedding costs entirely, making the grand wedding a community affair and not a burden to either parents or newlyweds.
This led my very special person to mention that when you are invited in Holland to an American Party, it means that you are expected to bring your own refreshments of choice. It's a BYOB potluck. When I replied that in the US, Going Dutch means that everyone pays their own way, we both had a good laugh.
Tomorrow's blog (barring some startling event that bumps the topic): Pakjesavond. A lesson in the meaning of Christmas.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Orange Tape
There is a little more to becoming Dutch than bikes and hotdogs. Puh.
As with any fine, upstanding nation in the world today, there's red tape. Only in Holland, Orange is the new Red.
So it goes something like this:
* From Expatica.com: "Anyone who intends to stay in the Netherlands for more than three months... must register at the GBA within five days of arrival." GBA = Gemeentelike basisadministratie... something like the state-level State Department; they keep track of where people are in order to make sure that each city/state has sufficient resources to provide for its residents.
* From the site rijksoverheid.nl... The GBA retains the following information on residents: "Name, birthplace.... burgerservicenummer (BSN)." The BSN functions the same way the social security number operates in the US. As far as the government is concerned, the number is who you are. Oh wait, I don't have one of those.
* From the site overheid.nl: "Iedereen krijgt bie de eerste inschriving in het GBA een burgerservicenummer (BSN)." [Everyone gets with their first registration with GBA a BSN.] Great. So what do I need to take to the GBA?
* From the same site: In order to register with GBA, you must show the following: [as applies to me] " U bent vreemdeling en verblijft rechtmatig in Nederland." [You're a foreigner residing legally in Netherlands.]
There's more but that right there is where it starts getting wonky. What it all boils down to is this:
* You must register with the GBA within 5 days.
* In order to register with the GBA, you must show that you're here legally.
* In order to be here legally, you must have a residency permit.
* In order to get a residency permit, you must show [in my case] that your business is registered with the Chamber of Commerce and that you have health insurance.
* In order to register with the Chamber of Commerce, you must provide a BSN.
* In order to get health insurance, you must provide a BSN.
* In order to get a BSN, you must register with the GBA.
And round and round and round it went in my head until my brains almost melted. My very special person and a 900 number to the rescue.
This bit actually made me laugh a lot. The Dutch government, rather than providing 800 numbers, uses 900 numbers. Who knew there were 900 numbers that aren't sex lines??? They typically charge 0.10 a minute. (The government lines, not the sex lines.) Apparently it both offsets the cost of providing the service and cuts down on people phoning up the government to complain about random things.
Long story short, 2 euros worth of government chat time between my very special person and people I can only assume were talking about immigration and not sex yielded an appointment with the Immigratie en Naturalisatie Dienst (IND), on 7 December. The lovely IND person was reportedly not at all concerned with the apparent circular logic of the system, waving it off with a dismissive, "We'll give you a form to take to GBA."
Fingers and toes and everything else you can cross without doing permanent damage to yourself will be appreciated. Thank you!
As with any fine, upstanding nation in the world today, there's red tape. Only in Holland, Orange is the new Red.
So it goes something like this:
* From Expatica.com: "Anyone who intends to stay in the Netherlands for more than three months... must register at the GBA within five days of arrival." GBA = Gemeentelike basisadministratie... something like the state-level State Department; they keep track of where people are in order to make sure that each city/state has sufficient resources to provide for its residents.
* From the site rijksoverheid.nl... The GBA retains the following information on residents: "Name, birthplace.... burgerservicenummer (BSN)." The BSN functions the same way the social security number operates in the US. As far as the government is concerned, the number is who you are. Oh wait, I don't have one of those.
* From the site overheid.nl: "Iedereen krijgt bie de eerste inschriving in het GBA een burgerservicenummer (BSN)." [Everyone gets with their first registration with GBA a BSN.] Great. So what do I need to take to the GBA?
* From the same site: In order to register with GBA, you must show the following: [as applies to me] " U bent vreemdeling en verblijft rechtmatig in Nederland." [You're a foreigner residing legally in Netherlands.]
There's more but that right there is where it starts getting wonky. What it all boils down to is this:
* You must register with the GBA within 5 days.
* In order to register with the GBA, you must show that you're here legally.
* In order to be here legally, you must have a residency permit.
* In order to get a residency permit, you must show [in my case] that your business is registered with the Chamber of Commerce and that you have health insurance.
* In order to register with the Chamber of Commerce, you must provide a BSN.
* In order to get health insurance, you must provide a BSN.
* In order to get a BSN, you must register with the GBA.
And round and round and round it went in my head until my brains almost melted. My very special person and a 900 number to the rescue.
This bit actually made me laugh a lot. The Dutch government, rather than providing 800 numbers, uses 900 numbers. Who knew there were 900 numbers that aren't sex lines??? They typically charge 0.10 a minute. (The government lines, not the sex lines.) Apparently it both offsets the cost of providing the service and cuts down on people phoning up the government to complain about random things.
Long story short, 2 euros worth of government chat time between my very special person and people I can only assume were talking about immigration and not sex yielded an appointment with the Immigratie en Naturalisatie Dienst (IND), on 7 December. The lovely IND person was reportedly not at all concerned with the apparent circular logic of the system, waving it off with a dismissive, "We'll give you a form to take to GBA."
Fingers and toes and everything else you can cross without doing permanent damage to yourself will be appreciated. Thank you!
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