Various whingings

The first thing I want to do is comment on the people of Amsterdam and the “Dutch” culture I’ve experienced during my time here. I in no way suggest that the Dutch people I have met so far comprise a collective Antichrist. I make no moral judgments on them whatever—I am sure many are good-hearted, kind people. Deep down. Just kidding. I have run across many Dutch people who are helpful in a functional, no-nonsense, sarcastically-joking-to-the-point-of-utter-discomfort kind of way. But I have had positive interactions with at least five Dutch people. Two of them were my beautiful ISN coaches, who were always helpful and kind and generous with themselves.





One was a Houthaven RA who stayed with me for thirty minutes to make sure my internet worked. One of them was a boy in law school who I have had good conversations with and who has helped interpret some administrative letters. One was a superintendent at Stavangerweg who was sympathetic and helpful. However, there are also negative aspects about the culture as I have experienced it here:



a. "Live and let live": Many of the white Dutch people in Amsterdam I have met or who have talked to us (during “cultural training,” class, or what-have-you) consider themselves liberal, left-wing and specifically non-racist (see point “c”) It is supposedly a “live and let live” kind of culture. Meaning, I suppose, that the Dutch will let us be free to be you and me. But I have talked to an American who has lived and worked for a year in Amsterdam and I have observed and spoken to Dutch people on this topic myself. I conclude (and I realize it has only been a month)that it seems very hard to integrate and very hard to make good Dutch friends. While they will tolerate your friendship in a compulsory setting (the workplace, school, etc.), on the weekends, they will hang out with the Dutch friends they have known since high school. I wonder—while the Dutch may let you live and be yourself, in your Chinese-North-American-Saudi-Arabian glory, maybe it’s only OK if you live and be yourself somewhere apart from them, somewhere over there. Live and let live, but don’t do it within my inner circle? We will tolerate, but we will not accept, never mind embrace? I don’t know. The coldness and quiet reserve I’ve seen in many Dutch tilts me towards that conclusion too. Too early to tell, perhaps.
b. Further, the Dutch attitude towards helping people who clearly need help is very strange and, frankly, chilling. Now, if you ask for help (granted completion of any necessary administrative steps, see below at point "e"), you will probably get it. This is especially true if it is the direct and immediate job of the person you have asked to perform the specific, discrete function you have asked of them. In other cases, it is less clear. I’ve really yet to see Good Samaritans. There have been times where I have been a hot mess, close to tears, in need of help. At my dorms, at the train station, at the trams. And my heart absolutely sinks when I see that apologetic shrug of the shoulders that is becoming really familiar to me. That shrug means that the person really is not willing to go out of his/her way to help you. That shrug means that the person has some sort of heart and is pitying you if not sympathizing with you if not empathizing with you, but that he/she is not willing to anything much to help besides the sarcomere and joint action that goes into shrugging his/her shoulders. I was disgusted when my friend Olivia fell off her bike in front of five people and none of them offered to help her up or ask her if she was OK. People have really not been willing to go that one extra step to help another. I come from a place where you always do everything to help others, for the simple reason that those others are human beings in need of aid. It is important to me to do as much as I can to help someone else. It is not like that here. For example, if you ask where a particular tram is (and you are wrong), the person will say that there is no such tram (with a racial slur thrown in for good measure). The person will leave you. The person will not notice that you are close to tears and ask you where you are trying to go and attempt to put you on the right tram. That would be too helpful. That would be too kind. That would be helping someone else who needs help. Apparently, if you fall off your bicycle in broad daylight and are simply too concussed to ask a nearby Dutch stranger for help, said stranger will not help you. I really hope to God that if you said “Please, I am concussed and cannot move. Will you help me off the ground?” the Dutch stranger would help you off the ground. But I really don’t know if they would stop being disgusted at you and remember that you are a human being who is injured.
c. Manifestations of ignorance with respect to racial diversity, specifically those directed towards East Asians: This comes mainly from the non-white Dutch/immigrant population. Ne’er a day goes by when I’m biking to or from school that I don’t get “ni haued” or “ching chong chowed” or “maybe in Chinaed.” It happens at the bars, clubs, on the street, in the supermarket, in Chinatown, even on trams by the tram-conductor for the love of Pete. I wonder why. I wonder also what kind of pressures the immigrant populations face here and whether there is rooted and subtle racism seeded within the Dutch “live and left live” culture. What makes one visible minority here ignorant or oppressive of another? Ignorance? Or is it part of a larger power struggle where oppresee seizes an opportunity to become oppressor? I don’t know what it is. Perhaps I’ve read too much into it. And perhaps I’ve been in liberal places like Harvard and Toronto law for too long, because I’ve forgotten about this kind of ignorance. Luckily, since being here for a month, I am not quick to take offence to this kind of stuff (anymore), and I have learned to chalk it up to pure ignorance. In part, I’ve switched back to Saudi-mode to help me distinguish between two types of racial ignorance that I experienced there in abundance. One type was a malicious, mean-spirited ignorance that came from a couple boys at school. Saudi attracts a lot of Southerners, of which many were not the most enlightened individuals. Further, there were no other Chinese people in my grade. There was this kid Ben who would harass me by softly whispering “chink” in my ear every chance he got. There was also this kid David who used to do the slanty-eyed gesture immortalized by that soccer club recently (I’ve seen that slanty-eyed gesture since being in Amsterdam, unfortunately). Scarring. Now, another type of ignorance was a kind of presumptive and inappropriate curiosity that would come from the Saudis themselves and South Asian shopkeepers, the “where are you from, Japan?” type of ignorance. The majority of my experiences here have been of the latter variety I think. Certainly they have been exasperating, presumptive, and inappropriate, but not necessarily mean spirited. I’ve had to re-learn to deal with it and think of it this way.
d. I call this “Hey, Dutch person, is that your small, bareheaded child sitting on your handlebars while you speed across an intersection?” Or "You careless bastard, put some protection on that child's head for the love of God". No one wears a helmet here. I’ve never once seen a bike rider with a helmet. I’ve never once seen a store that sells helmets. I’ve seen like a thousand sex shops and coffeeshops here but no helmet store. It’s certainly not socially acceptable to wear a helmet unless you ride a scooter or motorcycle. The Dutch are very cavalier about their helmetlessness and we are expected to adopt a similar attitude. However, the many accidents the American and Canadian students have been in here do not bode well for our remaining non-concussed. One guy has had to get his bicycle repaired three times. Olivia actually got a concussion the other day after falling and biked home dazedly, which resulted in 1) almost running into a tram and 2) (although this is just inexplicable) getting trampled by a stationary bicycle which fell smack on her as she passed by. Dave got hit by a scooter the other day. I’ve wiped out twice—once in a busy intersection in front of a café full of people and once in front of an albert hein, flat on my face. That time, my brakes broke and I had to get them repaired at this tire-pirate bike store near my dorm. I have asked Dutch people about the lack of helmets and what it all means. I can’t help myself, because it seems the simplest measure to protect yourself and your children from irreparable brain damage should something happen while you haul your children from location to location on hazardous, narrow streets. Dutch people are practical, right? Surely a Dutch mother could see that one tumble for young Aalbert or Hadewig could mean bye-bye med school, hello insane asylum. Well, Dutch people may be practical but they are also very confident (some might say arrogant) with respect to their biking capabilities. Dutch people have told me that the reason they don’t wear helmets is that they are excellent bikers. This is followed by the snarky hint that you and your American friends, on the other hand, are crap bike drivers who probably do need helmets. Another snarky hint follows that “well you probably do need a helmet” is the worst insult one could possible issue.
e. Bureaucratic inefficiency: Do you need something done that relates to school, your visa, your living accommodation, cell phone, ticket, or any other important and administrative aspect of your life? Get ready to:
1) Try to speak with the person you have reasoned is the most appropriate contact, given the situation;
2) Get re-directed to someone completely different;
3) It is possible that number 2 will be repeated multiple times;
4) Bike a long time through streets whose names you cannot hope to pronounce;
5) Wait for a really long time;
6) Realize (and be told condescendingly) that you forgot to take a number (T Mobile, train station);
7) After you take the number, get scolded for talking on your cell phone. You can’t talk on that in here and you should have known that;
8) Be told that you took the wrong “kind” of number and you’re waiting in the “wrong line” because that line is for credit card only by an idiot with some kind of hat.
9) When it’s your turn, be out of luck because the person you have to talk to
a) is going on lunch break;
b) is going on coffee break;
c) is going to, instead of doing her real job, escort someone to the book shop near the flower market, a task which is well outside her prescribed duties (even if said duties are granted a liberal interpretation);
10) When you finally talk to someone, be ridiculed (in a “friendly” way of course) and asked to repeat your question 10 times because it apparently makes no sense;
11) When you ask if you can ask someone a question, be told that “you can always ask” in a very snarky way;
12) Be told that you have done everything wrong up until that point;
13) Be told that you must check the website;
14) Be told that you must complete a process that involves many emails and communications to people or administrators that in the end will not be organized in any centralized way;
15) Be told that your request cannot go through because you missed important steps and are essentially an idiot, but maybe this one time only they will make an exception and aren’t you lucky.
f. Food: the staples here are cheese and bread, but the cheese is kind of gross. It is one of those things that tastes pretty good in the moment but makes you feel ill 10 minutes afterwards. Luckily, there have been delicious grapes and chinois buns and cherry tomatoes and gummies and tangerines.
g. Lack of places that take credit card: We were told during orientation that the Dutch are a practical minded and frugal people who do not like to owe anything or be owed anything. Might this be why NOWHERE TAKES CREDIT CARD. I can’t use my credit card if I am buying groceries, buying household items, buying printers, buying my school readers.


That's all for now. Will post more soon.