Excuse the Pun

Somewhere after your child’s second birthday, the realisation sets in that it’s high time your toddler starts learning manners. “Give milk. Now!” may be cute for a baby, but for a toddler the expectation rapidly changes to: “May I please have some milk, mommy”.
And so, you find yourself repeating endlessly: "Say please, please please! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
And especially: "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me."

I don't know if it's a South African or an Afrikaans habit, but we use the term "verskoon my" (excuse me) a lot and in various instances: When we sneeze. When we want to excuse ourselves from the table. When we want to catch someone's attention. When we accidentally interrupt someone. When we purposefully interrupt someone. When someone (accidentally or purposefully) interrupts us. When we want to ask a stranger a question. When we accidentally bump into someone (in the grocery store, not with a car.) When someone bumps into us (in the grocery store or with a car), although in the latter case it would become "ver-@#$%^%$#-skoon my!!", which is not (intentionally) taught to children.

Of course, literally bumping into someone in the grocery store was a privilege only for enjoyment in the glory days prior to the new normal "anderhalve meter sameleving" which we are now living. So really, these days we only use "verskoon my" in 46 cases, instead of 47.

Which explains why we, being South African / Afrikaans / parents, were particularly pedantic about teaching our toddler to say: "Excuse me".
"Verskoon my, verskoon my, verskoon my."

And then, of course, we arrived in the Netherlands. And Dutch is mos the sister-language to Afrikaans. So we will just gooi die taal lekker and learn as we go, and if we don't understand - no problem! We will just say "verskoon my, do you mind repeating your sentence?" ala Afri-Dutch, like the well-mannered people that we are.

Except that "verskoon my" suddenly has a whole new meaning on this continent. Verschoon mij literally means: Clean me. As in: I demand that you change my diaper!

Now if a grown-up, says: "Change my diaper, I am looking for the bus stop," you will get a weird look and be left with zero directions as the victim scrambles off. But you will be fine and eventually find the bus stop. You might have to re-evaluate your perception of the Dutch (and yourself, and your Dutch-speaking abilities), once you realise what you have demanded from a stranger. But life will go on.

But for a child, verschoon mij could be a very common thing to say. And it could therefore rapidly result in a catastrophe if not clarified or acted upon!
Say, for example, you are at the swimming pool for a family outing, your child sneezes and hollers: "Verskoon my!"
If your child is not immediately removed from the pool, these two simple, well-mannered and well-intended words could result in a swimming pool evacuation! Or worse - judgemental looks from other parents who speak proper Dutch and not Afri-Dutch.

And so, after months and months of teaching our toddler to say "verskoon my" for intended use in 47 or 46 scenarios (and him finally perfecting the art just as our plane touched down on Schipol airport), we agreed that it was just safer to replace "verskoon my" with the Dutch alternative: Sorry.
Which, when used in an Afrikaans sentence, really just seems like a linguistically incorrect word, lazily thrown in.

Therefore, sorry, if you will excuse me. I need to go and think about the 20 000 new words (languages!) we could have taught our toddler, while we were frantically repeating words which he can no longer use.

I also might need to tell my neighbour that I eventually found the bus stop.

Cycling Culture

The Netherlands must be the only country where your child's cycling abilities and habits are requested upon school and healthcare registration. And the questions don't simply stop at "can your child cycle?", but also whether said cycling is done a) on two wheels, or b) with side-wheels. Transportation options which include three or more wheels, fall under c) my child does not yet cycle (note the "yet"!).

There are also questions related to protective gear and whether this is worn when your child is cycling on their own bicycle or on their parents' bicycles (note the "when", not "if"). Though it is interesting to note that helmets follow the same rule as Covid-masks here: They are available and a safer option, but not mandatory and therefore rarely worn.

Luckily my husband immediately identified cycling as a crucial developmental area for our toddler upon our arrival in the Nederlands in March. Probably after seeing a three-year old wheelie past unsupervised on a bicycle with a) two wheels. Two months and a markplaats bicycle (which didn't even come with the option of side-wheels) later, we were ready for any cycling-related registration lists which we might encounter.

It is fascinating to watch children grow up on bicycles all around us: Newborns are introduced to the cycling culture by means of a bakfiets and are transferred to a baby seat in front of their parents' bicycles once they can sit up. Then, to the back of the bicycle, often while the front seat is occupied by baby #2 or #3.

It seems like children skip the customary South African plastic three-wheeled bikes and immediately start cycling on their own two-wheeled balance bikes just after the age of one. They then progress to pedal bicycles without side-wheels somewhere between the ages of three and four.

Primary school outings don't commence with a bus-ride, but rather a mass cycling expedition where the children cycle to the museum / park / event by themselves, accompanied by a few teachers and parents. Of course, most children also cycle to school, which they start at the age of four (thankfully, initially accompanied by a parent).

Most of this might seem quite overwhelming if you are not used to such an all-encompassing cycling culture and if your child cannot yet cycle a) on two wheels, but luckily the whole country is well-equipped to support this culture.

Here are a few cycling-related innovations which make it easy for us to cycle to 70% of our daily outings (we walk to the rest and I only use a car to drive to work):

• Cycling routes, which I have mentioned before, with traffic lights dedicated to cyclists:

• On steep paths or bridges, there are bicycle grooves in which you can push your bike to the flatter surface at the top or bottom:

• Bicycle parking facilities in front of shops and restaurants: 

• Double decker bicycle parking areas at stations or bicycle parks:

• Apartments and houses usually have a basement or storage area where tenants can park their bicycles. Bicycle parking is an essential part of an office or apartment design: 

Now, if only I could keep up with our toddler cycling a) on two wheels...

Local Lawnmowers

Although we live in a city, it often feels more like a town - or even farmland!
Especially on a day like today when I just happened to pass a flock of sheep, right in our neighbourhood!

My husband was the first to spot them in the area while he was running errands. The flock is the local lawnmowers from a nearby town, who visits our city three times per year to maintain the overgrown public areas. A temporary fence is setup where they then freely roam around to snack on the long grass, until they are moved to the next area.

This is one of many unexpected and clever innovations which we have observed in random places over the past months. 

More to follow soon...

Bags and Flags

This past week, we had noticed several school bags and flags, some decorated with the words "geslaagd", being displayed outside the houses of our neighbourhood.

This is a Dutch tradition to indicate that children have passed their "middelbare" school exams - similar to the passing of Matric at the end of high school in South Africa.

Normally the flags would appear once the final examinations have been completed and the individual results have been announced, but this year the exams had been cancelled due to the closure of schools. 

For children of all ages, this school year must have ended on an anticlimactic note, but especially for "middelbare" school children, since the end of the year is often accompanied by school concerts, dances and school trips to other European countries. (The image of hopping across to Paris for a weekend of "pain au chocolat" with your school friends, somehow seems very far removed from the Plett Rage a.k.a. the 'Margate Matric holiday' prior to 2005.)

It is nice though, to see that throughout all the changes and disruptions of 2020, some traditions and excitement still remain.

Cherry Blossoms

It is 9 pm at night and I'm gazing out of our apartment window to the clear blue sky, dotted with light clouds. It has been another amazing spring (summers!) day. And a holiday. AND the Horeca industry (hotels, restaurants, cafés) reopened after a 3-month closure due to Covid-19. Therefore truly a magical day with people lining the parks, streets and "terrassen" to soak up the sun... albeit in small groups, keeping the "anderhalve meter" distance.

And this day will continue for at least another hour before the sun will slowly start setting.

The only downside to a day like this is convincing a toddler that it really is bedtime, when the sun is still shining with all it's might.

Due to the amazing weather over the past months, we have spent many a day cycling. We have bought another bicycle soon after the first one, when we realised that:
 1) You can cycle everywhere on dedicated cycling routes,
 2) If the routes are not dedicated, cyclists mostly have right of way, and
 3) Chances of getting a parking/driving/speeding/licensing/<add random reason here> fine is smaller.

During March and April, we encountered the most beautiful pink and white cherry blossom trees around every corner - inside the city and throughout the countryside. Whenever we went cycling during those months, I would constantly shout to my husband and toddler, who were cycling up ahead, to "look at those amazing cherry blossom trees! Look, a white one! And a pink one! There! On your left."

Toddler: Looking in the opposite direction, right on cue.
Husband: Staring straight ahead, not hearing (or pretending not to hear) my shouting.

At least I had managed to take a few pictures along the way (accompanied by moans and groans of having to stop for yet another cherry blossom tree - and this after they had missed the other twenty we passed on route!)

Netherlands: Woningsdag

Koningdag in the Netherlands is celebrated on 27 April each year, and marks the birthday of King Willem-Alexander. In 2013, the last Queens Day was celebrated, but after the abdication of Queen Beatrix, the day was changed to Kings Day. I vividly remember the last Koninginnedag seven years ago: A festive holiday with orange-cladded crowds singing and dancing in the streets, and all radio stations playing songs dedicated to the Queen.

This year, Koningsdag became Woningsdag... Roughly translated as "staying at home" day.
Therefore, every day since mid-March 2020 has technically been Woningsdag. Not only in the Netherlands, but worldwide.

For Woningsdag, the plan was for the whole country to sing the National anthem from their balconies at 10:00, followed by virtual markets (since selling second-hand items are a big part of Koningsdag), playing old Dutch games in the park (children only, since the social-distancing rules don't apply to the youth), eating orange tompouchen, a message from the King in the afternoon, and news coverage of how the aforementioned activities are being performed in each province.

Alas, our neighbourhood must not be musically inclined, because 10:00 came and went without a single sound or false note.
Right, not a very festive start to the day, but not to fear and onward to the next activity!

And then, we of course realised that we had no wifi. Therefore, no internet or tv and no chance of getting it fixed until after Woningsdag, once everyone returned to work. So we skipped 90% of the planned activities and quickly progressed to the baking (and eating) part of the day.

We made caramel brownies, because tompouche is either not a recognised dessert in our parts of the country, or it is so popular that it was sold out days before Woningsdag.

The Plan vs. Reality

We did go for a walk to enjoy the sunshine, since this Koningsdag was reported as the warmest and sunniest ever with temperatures of up to 20 °C. And I am happy to confirm that there were kids playing games in the park... like any other day. Whether the games were "old Dutch games" like they were supposed to be, I have no idea. But there was a ball and the children were Dutch, so I guess that's close enough.

If it weren't for the Dutch flags displayed in most gardens, it would have honestly felt just like any other (wonings) day since mid-March.

Woningsdag 2020 was a nice, albeit normal day in the Netherlands.
But let's hope Koningsdag and the orange festivities will return next year!

Netherlands: Mini Bieb

There is a mini library in our neighbourhood where children can borrow and share books. When I first noticed it, I was beyond excited, because:

1. The actual library in our town temporarily closed its doors, like all other institutions.
2. It could be an easy way to expand our family's Dutch.
3. It was there! And filled with books! Without being locked or chained to anything!! And day after day, the books and the box remained there, without disappearing into thin air. Amazing.

Before we started reading, the books obviously went though a hefty decontamination and sanitation process, but it was well worth the effort. Even more so, since the only exposure my toddler was getting to the local language, was via Dutch programs and movies. And the odd radio / TV background noises when my husband and I were trying to get the latest on the "mondkapje tekorten" and other related corona crises.

At first, I tried to pronounce the words from the books in the proper Dutch manner: "Ik ben ook groot" was pronounced as

".. ouk grout", but after each sentence a confused look would cross my toddler's face and he would ask: "Wat is grout? Wat is ouk?"

So I rapidly dropped (what I perceived to be) the correct Dutch pronunciation and switched to a proper Nederkaans / Afri-dutch articulation: "Ik ben" (Dutch) "ook groot" (Afrikaans), à la the Dutch variation of Eliza Doolittle.

The word "nu" (now) created confusion from the start, because it sounded exactly like "nie" in Afrikaans, which means "not".

Confused? You're not the only one.

"Ik ben nu groot" therefore sounded like "I am not big" to an Afrikaans toddler, instead of "I am NOW big".

There was therefore a definite possibility that my toddler understood whatever story plot we had read, to be the opposite of what had actually happened. A big pirate could have easily been mistaken for a pirate which was, well, not big. I therefore patiently explained that not big is "niet groot" but now big is "nu groot".

The pirate was in fact big. "Nu groot".

The frown on his brow deepened and a few perplexed seconds passed.

"Wat is nie?"

I have heard before that Dutch is a mix of German and English, and I'm starting to understand why: Words with beautiful descriptive names in Afrikaans, simply become the English version in Dutch.

Pirates, giraffes and penguins are "piraten", "giraffes" and "pinguïns" in Dutch.

Easy perhaps, except that my toddler knows these words as "seerowers", "kameelperde" and "pikkewyne".

I therefore try to, perhaps more for my own understanding, explain the Dutch words in Afrikaans by referring to the English words.

As you can now clearly comprehend, a simple sentence like "Ik ben nu een grote piraat" can take a very, very long time to explain.

But it's wonderful and fun to read in Dutch, and we're loving it.

Now that we had clarified and agreed on the book's title, we will be starting on the first sentence tomorrow.