"Blijf ik nog jouw zanger"

"Blijf ik nog jouw zanger" is a line from one of the songs that I heard at the concert last week.  It means "I am still your singer."  Herman van Veen has been singing for a really long time.  Folks like him; they like his music; they've been listening to him for 40 years.  It makes an interesting dynamic.  There were a few songs during the concert where the whole crowd sang along on the chorus.  Unfortunately, the lead up to this song was different at the show I was at and he didn't do the dance at the beginning.  In fact, the whole show was sadly short on dancing.  (This recording is fairly old--several of the people with him this time are different.)  This video does give you an idea of the number of different instruments that they use in the show, some of them kind of unusual.



The title of the post comes from this song "Laat me" which is about a singer.  The chorus, which get repeated several times and which you hear people sing along with goes as follows:

Laat me, laat me, laat me m'n eigengang maar gaan

Laat me, laat me, ik hem het altijd zo gedaan

Which translates as:

Let me, let me, let me go my own way

let me, let me, I've always done it that way

"Opzij, opzij, opzij" (roughly, "move, move, move" or "to the side, to the side, to the side") is an old favorite.  People stood up during this song and stamped and clapped in time, besides singing along.  It was a lot of fun.  This is an actual music video.  It reminds me of the Monkees music videos.

Opzij, opzij, opzij, maak plaats, maak plaats, maak plaats, Ik heb ongelofelijke haast. Opzij, opzij, opzij, want ik ben haast te laat, Ik heb maar een paar minuten tijd. Ik moet rennen, springen, vliegen, duiken, vallen, opstaan en weer doorgaan. Ik kan nu niet blijven, ik kan nu niet langer blijven staan. Een andere keer misschien dan blijf ik wel staan en kan dan misschien als het echt moet, wat over koetjes, kindren en de mannen praten, nou dag tot ziens, adieu het gaat je goed. Ik moet rennen, springen, vliegen, duiken, vallen, opstaan en weer doorgaan. Ik kan nu niet blijven, ik kan nu niet langer blijven staan. Opzij, opzij, opzij, maak plaats, maak plaats, maak plaats, Ik heb ongelofelijke haast. Opzij, opzij, opzij, want ik ben haast te laat, Ik heb maar een paar minuten tijd. Ik moet rennen, springen, vliegen, duiken, vallen, opstaan en weer doorgaan. Ik kan nu niet blijven, ik kan nu niet langer blijven staan. Een andere keer misschien dan blijf ik wel staan en kunnen dan misschien als het echt moet, wat over koetjes, kindren en de mannen praten, nou dag tot ziens, adieu het gaat je goed. Ik moet rennen, springen, vliegen, duiken, vallen, opstaan en weer doorgaan. Ik kan nu niet blijven, ik kan nu niet langer blijven staan. Opzij, opzij, opzij, maak plaats, maak plaats, maak plaats, Ik heb ongelofelijke haast. Opzij, opzij, opzij, want ik ben haast te laat, Ik heb maar een paar minuten tijd. Ik moet rennen, springen, vliegen, duiken, vallen, opstaan en weer doorgaan. Ik kan nu niet blijven, ik kan nu niet langer blijven staan. Een andere keer misschien dan blijf ik wel even staan en kunnen dan misschien als het echt moet, wat over koetjes, kindren en de mannen praten, nou dag tot ziens, adieu het gaat je goed.

To the side, to the side, to the side, make room, make room, make room, I’m in an awful rush. To the side, to the side, to the side, I'm rushing because I’m late, I only have a couple of minutes left. I must run, jump, fly, dive, fall, get up and move again. I cannot stay, I cannot stay standing still. Another time, perhaps then I can stand around and maybe we can have a chat about cows, kindren and guy talk, But for now, dag, tot ziens, adieu  will have to do (a bunch of different ways to say goodby) I must run, jump, fly, dive, fall, get up and move again. I cannot stay, I cannot stay standing still To the side, to the side, to the side, make room, make room, make room, I’m in an awful rush. To the side, to the side, to the side, I'm rushing because I’m late, I only have a couple of minutes left. I must run, jump, fly, dive, fall, get up and move again. I can not stay, I can not stay standing still. Another time, perhaps then I can stand around and maybe we can have a chat about cows, kindren and guy talk, But for now, dag, tot ziens, adieu will have to do I must run, jump, fly, dive, fall, get up and move again. I can not stay, I can not stay standing still. To the side, to the side, to the side, make room, make room, make room, I’m in an awful rush. To the side, to the side, to the side, I'm rushing because I’m late, I only have a couple of minutes left. I must run, jump, fly, dive, fall, get up and move again. I can not stay, I can not stay standing still.  Another time, perhaps then I can stand around and maybe we can have a chat about cows, kindren and guy talk, But for now, dag, tot ziens, adieu will have to do

This song was so popular (and so old) that it was featured on a kids talent show, kind of like a Dutch version of Star Search.  In a 1991 version of Ministars, a little girl parodied the song in "o nee, o nee, o nee" in which she laments that her bike has been stolen, about the problems of public transport, that she is stuck walking places, and that everyone is too busy to help her get her bike back.  She ends the song by saying "I want my bike back!"
Classic.

Mijn eerste concert

Last week I went to my very first concert, ever.

I was thinking about it and I am pretty sure that this is true.  I've been to the opera a couple of times; I've been to the Carter Family Fold a couple of times; I've been to a Symphony Orchestra performance a couple of times; I've sung in a few choir performances .  But I don't think that any of those really count.

So, my first real, honest-to-goodness concert that I've ever been to in my entire life is for a 60-ish, bald, knighted, Dutch grandpa.

I am totally living a wild and woolly life here in the Netherlands.

Comazuipers Continued

Remember how I talked about comazuipers before?  Well, that is still a part of the national stream of consciousness, apparently.  This afternoon, this little ad/poll popped up on my browser:

It says: "Passed-Out Drunks: should they pay for their own treatment at the hospital?"  I think that the picture is supposed to evoke a "Ja" response.

(By the way, the small printing at the bottom says "vote now for a chance at a Mini".  I don't know if that means  those adorable little cars or something else but it did suggest that this was more ad than poll.)

Rijksmuseum

When I was in Amsterdam, I also went to the Rijksmuseum--the National Museum of the Netherlands.  I wasn't sure what it would be like since they are in the middle of a massive renovation project and a lot of the museum is shut down as a result.  But, I could use my Museum Card to get in and I figured it was worth a couple of hours.  It was a lot of fun.  I am pretty fond of Dutch painting so I thought that it was a really worthwhile trip.  They also had fairly cheap audio guides on different themes that had a lot of information on them.  I didn't figure out how to work mine until I was about half-way through the museum so I backtracked a bit so that I could get my money's worth out of it.

I looked up the Museum website and, like the Van Gogh Museum, they have a really excellent online presentation.  They have a program where, if you have "Quicktime" on your computer, you can do a virtual tour of some of the different exhibits.  It takes a little while to load (and I always have to give permission for some reason) but it is pretty interesting and you can get a pretty good look at some of the pictures.  You can see it here and can see displays on the Dutch Republic, World Power, Frans Hals, Rembrandt and Johannes Vermeer.

If you go to this link, you can see even more detail about certain things.  There are detailed explanations of various paintings, including The Nightwatch which is one of the most famous paintings in the Museum (it has a whole gallery devoted just to it), the fabulous dollhouses which were made to represent and mimic the actual homes of the adult women who commissioned them, some of the really beautiful silver work for which the Netherlands was famous, and even the specifics about some particular Delft tiles that were made for special occaisions.  Most of the information is in English, although there are a few things in Dutch.  It is really simple to look through and it is a lot of fun.  Most of the picture have extra information if you run the cursor across the screen.

If you go here, you can look at paintings by early Dutch painters, organized by artist.  You can zoom in on the pictures but most of the information about them is in Dutch.

There is a new display that has been put up since I went called "Ottomania. The Turkish world through Western eyes."  It looks interesting--it commemorates 400 years of diplomacy between the Netherlands and Turkey--but what is especially interesting is that they have a short video about the exhibit.  (As a word of warning, there is a line drawing of a nursing mother at the beginning.)  What I noticed, though, is that I could barely understand a word of what the presenter was saying (it is given in Dutch, with English subtitles).  Having been spoiled by living in Rotterdam (which is generally considered to have the epitome of precise, dialect-free, accent-less Dutch) I really have a hard time recognizing what is being said.

There is also a display that I saw which is not there now.  A piece of an English ship, captured by the Dutch during the Second Anglo-Dutch war, has been sent (temporarily) to England, to be displayed at the National Maritime Museum in London.  (See the information here.  And you can see a picture of the piece, itself, if you want, on the front page of the museum website or in the 360 degree tour of the "Dutch Republic" room.)  The Dutch hero who captured "the pride of the English fleet" was called Michiel de Ruyter.  The video below (which comes from Wikipedia Commons and the Nederlands Instituut voor Beeld en Geluid) is from a 1957 reconstruction of de Ruyter's victorious return to Amsterdam.  De Ruyter is so popular that, at least according to Dutch Wikipedia, a new film is being made about him, to be released next year.  

There is a museum extension at Schipol (the Airport in Amsterdam) but it is inside passport control, which means, I assume, that you can only visit the museum if you are flying somewhere.  It is, however, free and it has got to be a way better use of a two hour wait than reading trashy magazines.  They have what sounds like a really interesting exhibit on Dutch Winters right now but it ends a couple of days before Jael gets here, so I can't even commission her to go and check it out for me.  I had never heard of airport museums until the Air and Space Museum moved out to Dulles but I suppose, in an airport, you almost have a guaranteed audience.

One of the best things in the museum was a display about an Arctic expidition that the Dutch sent out in 1596.  Apparently one of the survivors wrote and illustrated his recollections and the museum displayed some of the old pages from those books.  It was a tragic story and involved many, many polar bear attacks (I imagine that none of those folks would have been touched by that picture of a lonely polar bear floating on a chunk of ice).  They were trying to find a passage somewhere (or something like that) and got stuck and wrecked in the ice.  First they stuck around the ship for a while and then there was a polar bear attack (and the story is accompanied by drawings of polar bears crawling all over the wrecked ship and tearing men apart).  Then they went and dug a tiny hole in the ground with a cover on top and they huddled in there all winter.  They dug other holes to trap foxes, for food, but then the polar bears came again.  Some of the guys went to gather wood from the broken-up ship to make a boat in which to escape, and then the polar bears came again.  Eventually, in the spring, a tiny handful of men escaped, being chased to their boat by ravenous polar bears.  It was a very dramatic story and they stopped being worried about finding that passage.

The expedition was led by Willem Barentsz, a famous Dutch explorer, and, if you go here you can see a Wikipedia article on Barentsz which includes some of the illustrations which were on display at the museum.  Apparently it was during this voyage that folks first realized that polar bear liver was toxic.

Lente!

It is Spring!  There is so much Spring out there it's hard to believe.  ("Lente" is Dutch for Spring.)

For the last week or so, highs have been 60, or almost there.  Lows have been around 45.  And it's been sunny.  So, so sunny.

In the Netherlands, in the winter, there isn't a lot of sun.  It is kind of dreary and cloudy.  But, after a bit, you don't really notice the absence of Vitamin D and light and sunshine.  You kind of get used to it and you don't really think about it.  (Although, every now and then, you notice that your skin has gotten so pale white you are pretty nearly glow-in-the-dark.)  And then the sun comes back.

And then it's all you can think about.
How lovely and sunny the sun is.  How pretty and sunny the sun is.  How warm and sunny the sun is.
Everything seems prettier and cheerfuller and nicer.

The Erasmus campus has completely changed--since the sun came out, you can barely walk through the quad--it is completely packed with students and faculty, sitting on every horizontal surface and leaning against every vertical one.  Everyone is soaking up as much sunshine as they can get, while it lasts.

As you walk through the city, people are sitting on doorsteps and benches and in their big open windows.  And they are all so cheerful and uncharacteristically smiley.  Everyone is loving this weather.

And it is so sunny for so long, too!  The sun comes in through my window and wakes me up so early--it woke me up at a quarter to seven this morning (stupid sunshine).  And right now it is six o'clock in the evening and the sun still hasn't set yet.  That is, as near as I can figure, nearly 4 extra hours of sunshine per day since the end of December.  (And, if this chart is to be believed, I can expect another 5 hours of sunshine per day by the summer solstice!)

Sunshine is just fun.  Fun, and nice, and sunshiny.  It is wonderful.  I am a fan.

I did laundry today, just so that I could have an excuse to stand around on the little rooftop patio that is outside the laundry room.  (Well, also because I was out of clean socks but mostly because of the sunny patio.)

Even the Market is getting Springy again.  The market beside my apartment is busy and full again, after the winter doldrums.  There's loads of fresh fruit again (presumably from down south somewhere) and the fruit and vegetable stands are taking back over from the fabric stalls and flea market stalls that had all the best spots over the winter, when there wasn't any competition.

I think I could get used to this.

A couple of days ago, an expatriate Dutch friend of mine posted this old song on Facebook and it seems so à propos.


I looked really hard to find the lyrics but couldn't find them.  Also, this is a fairly old song (around 50 years old) and I think there are some differences in pronunciation which make it difficult for me to translate very quickly (for instance, around :45, he starts counting his eggs and says the numbers differently than normal).  The jist of the song, though, is Springtime.  He sings about chickens ("kip"--Dutch chickens say "tock-tock-tock") and their eggs ("eieren"--it is pronounced "ay-er-en") and about chocolate eggs ("chocolade-eieren").  I think  that he also sings about sweets and cakes and gardens "because it's spring" ("omdat het lente is").  It is a very cheerful, springy kind of song.

Snert

Snert is split-pea soup.  (And, as far as I am concerned, is the far superior name.)  It is a traditional Dutch food that is very popular, in the winter especially.  When the Erasmus Student Network had their International Student party and had a buffet of traditional Dutch food, snert was one of the six dishes served.  You can buy canned snert in the grocery store.

In Rotterdam, there is a tourist tram, called the "Snerttram" on which, for around $20, you can ride around the city for an hour and a half, listening to a guide, and eating a tasty-warm bowl of snert.  This is one of things I wanted to do but I never got around to it and, now that it is getting up to 60 degrees during the day, it just doesn't seem as special anymore.  In the summer, they have an Ijsjestram instead (where you eat ice cream as you go around the city) but somehow that just doesn't seem as special, either.  For one thing, the graphics just cannot be as good:

(This picture comes from a Rotterdam tourism website.)

Dutch folks love their snert.  And, apparently, so do Dutch babies.  I was about to watch a video on You Tube and a commercial came up. It is the most adorable commercial ever.  I will say, however, that while they captured my interest they failed in the primary aim of commercial: that is to say, in product identification.  The commercial didn't really put the name of the product in until a few second before the end and, as a not very slim Dutch speaker, it wasn't enough time for me to figure out the name of the company or of the product.

(Are you chuckling to yourself over my little misstep, there?  

"Slim", in Dutch, means clever, or smart.  If you make a silly mistake, you can 

say "Niet zo slim, mij, eh?"  So that is a reference to the state of my Dutch 

understanding, not to anything else.)

Well, after quite a few minutes of looking up "Dutch snert baby food commercials" on Google and of starting up various You Tube videos hoping to find the same commercial, I finally found it.  And here it is:


It is so very, very Dutch.  When the mother is coming with the soup, she says "Special soup for my little Superman!" (playing off of the super/souper homophone pun)  and then the tag line is "The first soup for your Superhero."

Olvarit seems to be the Dutch equivalent of Gerber.  One of their tag lines is "better than homemade."  Apparently they do a lot of cute baby commercials.  When I was searching for this commercial, I ran across this collection of "a day in the life of Jip en Job" commercials.  Jip en Job is the Dutch equivalent of Sven and Ollie.



You don't really have to know what they are saying to get the jist of the commercials.  Poor little Jip (the blond one) is getting "Brand X" baby food, instead of the Olvarit that Job gets, and suffers the unfortunate consequences of his mother's bad choices.  (In Dutch, by the way, Js are pronounced like Ys, so when the "babies" talk, you can hear them saying "Yip" and "Yope".)

The Van Gogh Museum

When I was in Amsterdam, I went to the Van Gogh Museum.  Mostly because it was near where I needed to be and because I could get in free with my Museum Card, not because I am a particular fan of Van Gogh.  In fact, I would probably say that I wasn't  a fan of Van Gogh at all.  But (and I kind of hate to admit this) I saw the Doctor Who episode where they meet Van Gogh (and Van Gogh has a Scottish accent) and it was pretty entertaining.  And the museum was free.  Well, to make a three-hour wander through the museum short, Van Gogh may still not be my favorite artist of all time but he has definitely moved a long ways up the scale.

To start with, I thought that the Museum was really well put together.  It is three stories high (plus a basement), with the story of Van Gogh's life and the progression of his art in chronological order as you ascend.  On the first floor, they had a lot of paintings, and some sculptures, by people with whom Van Gogh had worked or by whom he was influenced.

This was my absolute favorite painting in the whole museum. It is by Léon-Augustin L'hermitte, a contemporary of Van Gogh, and is called La Fenaison or The Haymakers.  He represented a school of art which focused on idealized visions of country life and activities, characterized by sweeping open spaces and small, intimate groupings of people, in reaction to the increasingly urbanized and fractured life of the Industrial Age.  It was the same kind of response that made Thoreau's Walden so popular.

The Haymakers, 1908

This picture reminds me a lot of Grandpa.  His equipment was a little newer, but not that much.  And I don't think I can count the number of times I've seen Grandpa sitting there, under the mower, pounding away at the sickle bar, trying to get all of the teeth straight and all of the arms going where they ought to go.  This guy here is thinking, you can just tell, "Why does this thing always have to break just when things get going?  Do I have time to run out to Fleet Farm to get another piece before it closes?  Will I ever get this hay down before the dew comes?"  The only difference is that none of the other folks is trying to run him over with the tractor while he does it.  (I'm talking to you, here, Ben.)

If you click here, you can go to a page about Léon-Augustin L'hermitte, which includes a lot of his pictures.  (Please ignore the really hideous font color and just scroll down to find the pictures.)

In the two basement floors of the museum, they had a display on early photographers, called "Snapshot".  Apparently a lot of painters started using photographs, either as "sketches" to paint from or as art in their own right, in the midst of a lot of controversy over the legitimacy of photography as "art".  They had really old pictures, as well as really old cameras, on display.  One of the cameras was set up so that you could see how the mechanisms worked and another so that you could look through the view finder and see what it would have been like to use (modern cameras are easier).  One interesting aspect to the exhibit was the little glimpse it gave into the commune type living that some of these artists partook in.  There was a surprising number of photos that these fellows (mostly they were guys) were taking of one another's wives in, shall we say, a significant state of undress.  There was no indication, really, if this was a result of the ladies acting as models for everyone or if it was a result of behind-the-scenes shenanigans.  It was peculiar.

The top floor of the museum has an installation on Japanese art.  Vincent Van Gogh and his brother Theo, with whom he was very close, had made a collection of this kind of art and you can see the influence it had on some of Van Gogh's later work.  The display shows parallels between different aspects of Japanese art and the way in which those things began to change European art.

There was also a display on the restoration of The Bedroom, one of Van Gogh's most memorable paintings.  The paint colors have changed a lot and have been restored at various times and then, apparently, there are aesthetic ethics to worry about as well.  Is part of the "art" the impact of time on the colors and canvas?  Does restoring a painting to the "original" destroy the "art"?  It was interesting if somewhat esoteric.  What was especially interesting is that they were able to use external resources--letters that Van Gogh wrote to his brother about the kinds of paints he was using and the kinds of things he was drawing--to get a better understanding of what the painting ought to look like.

The Bedroom, 1888

Van Gogh was a prolific writer and his most frequent correspondent was his brother Theo.  After Theo's death, his wife kept all of the letters and started a campaign to make Van Gogh's art famous.  If you want to read Van Gogh's correspondence, you can buy a massive 5 volume set of books.  I looked through them in the museum bookshop and they were fascinating but also quite, quite expensive.

There was also a really interesting video about Van Gogh's life and death. (He shot himself in the chest, in the middle of a field, was found and brought home, and died 3 days later.  Not a good plan.)  And, to top it off, the museum has a really excellent website about the artwork in the permanent collection.  If you click here, you can go to the English language site which includes background information about all of Van Gogh's paintings, plus some of the other paintings in the museum, divided by category and by period.  It is really quite good.

My favorite Van Gogh paintings are his landscapes and scenes of peasant life.  I especially like his pen and ink drawings.  Unless otherwise specified, all of the picture are from the Van Gogh museum's online permanent collection list.

Almond Blossom, 1890
This is one of my favorite pictures and was also one of the most popular paintings to decorate coffee mugs, purses, pencils, playing cards, and other purchasable things in the museum bookshop.  It was painted for his little nephew (one of Theo's sons, who was named Vincent), shortly before he died.  Incidentally, it also shows a clear Japanese influence.

Wheat Field with a Lark, 1887
This picture is from a catalog of many of Van Gogh's paintings which are arranged chronologically and which are convenient to browse through.  

Pollard Birches, 1884

Wheatfields under Thunderclouds, 1890
This picture reminds me of the big north field, for some reason.

Rock and Ruins, at Montmajour, 1888
This picture is from Wikipedia Commons.

Prins Willem V Galerij

Housed right next to the Gevangenpoort is the Prins Willem V Galerij.  William V was an avid collector of art and plants and things like that.  Originally, his art collection was housed in his residence but it got too large and he purchased the building right next to the prison and set up the gallery.  He then opened up the gallery to the public, one afternoon a week, and created the first public art gallery in the Netherlands.

When they reopened the Gallery, they decided to make it as similar to the way it would have looked when it was created as possible, besides using, almost exclusively, the paintings that were actually part of William V's own collection.  It makes for quite an impression, which, I imagine, was the intention.  Instead of having lots of wall space, with prominently displayed individual pieces of art, the art is hung with an eye to fitting as many pieces on the wall as possible.  There would be one really large painting in the center of a grouping and then there would be smaller frames grouped around it in geometrically pleasing organizations.  The frames were all different sizes and shapes and colors and the painting themselves were not grouped according to theme, or colors, or artists, or school.  No photographs were allowed inside, of course, but this picture below shows what the walls looked like, approximately.  I am the contemplative gray figure.  Fortunately, they had pretty good catalogs available in English so you could see what the paintings were of, and by whom, along with some historical background and interesting information.

If you go to this site, you can see the English language version of the Gallery's website and one of the pictures there shows one of the (less cluttered) walls.  (There is also a little historical background on William V and the Gallery.)  You can click on the pictures on the right of the screen and it will show you the full painting.  One of my favorite paintings in the whole gallery was the one on the lower right, Cows Reflected in the Water, by Paulus Potter.  William V also liked this artist because he had a couple of his other works as well.  Potter was known for his landscapes with animals in them and they are all pretty and pastoral.  I just can't get over the reflection of that cow, though.  If you want to see more of Potter's paintings, you can go here, where Wikipedia has a collection of pictures of about half of the paintings he did.  I think that William V had pretty good taste and a nice collection--there was a Reubens, a few Steens, a couple of Vermeers.  It was a fun gallery.

In addition, there was a video presentation on the two museums (the Gevangenpoort and the Gallery are run as a pair, kind of) which was pretty interesting and pretty well done.  It was in Dutch but had English subtitles.   They argued that the reason that William V put the Gallery right next to the prison was because it illustrated two aspects of his authority--on the one hand, the King as holder of the sword and on the other hand, the King as supporter and uplifter of his people.  I don't know about that, maybe the King just need some pretty things to look at after he had spent the morning overseeing punishments.  But it was a pretty interesting video and an appealing argument.

Gevangenpoort Museum

When I was at Den Haag, I went to the Gevangenpoort Museum.  This is one of the places that has been at the top of my list of places to see since I read about it, before I even came to the Netherlands.  It is the old royal prison and has been turned into a museum.  It is supposedly so gruesome that they have a warning on the website that it is not suitable for children under the age of 9.  However, they also advertise the museum as a great place for children's birthday parties, so maybe they just tone down the gore, depending on age.  (You can see the English language museum page here.  However, it doesn't have nearly as much information as the Dutch language page which you can see here.)

The museum is really closely guarded, although I am not exactly sure why.  You can only go through with a guided tour, in small groups, and you are accompanied (and herded) by a security guard with a walkie-talkie.  It seemed a little like over-kill but maybe people get lost in there.  (Also, you weren't allowed to take any pictures, so this will be a boring post.)

The tour was only offered in Dutch but they had a little booklet in English which had a little paragraph about each room, which made it easier to follow along.  The guide was excellent (and spoke very clearly, as well) so I was able to follow most of what went on.  There were five in the group, besides me.  A guy and his high-school age daughter and a lady with her two boys.  The boys were probably around 10 and they were both well-informed and very fascinated with the museum.  The guide would ask them questions about different famous individuals who had been imprisoned in one of  the "fancy" cells and they seemed pretty knowledgable about all of those 17th century fellows as well as about Dutch prison history, generally.  They asked a lot of questions as well, which the guide seemed to enjoy--about the number of prisoners, how many people had died, what kinds of tortures were used, etc.  They didn't seem phased by the museum's official warnings about the danger of gore for kids.

The prison walls were made with 2x6s laid on their sides, which, I imagine, really made it impossible to dig your way out.  The main cells were about 12'x12', with the kind of toilet where the hole in the floor dropped straight to the sewer canal which ran underneath the prison.  (The boys thought that was pretty wonderful.)  These cells could hold up to 15 people and had no light or heat.  The guard turned out the light while we were in there and, even in the middle of the day, it was pitch-black.  I imagine that it would not be a fun place to be.  They had fancier cells where richer people could stay, in rooms by themselves, but where they had to pay for their own room and board.  The monthly cost for one of those cells, according to the guide, was twice the average yearly wage for working class folks of the time.  There was also a special room set aside for female inmates.  The stairs were all wooden and there were little narrow hall-ways and stairs that went all over the place.

By far the biggest hits, though, were the torture chambers.  There were two.  One, in the attic, was a torture chamber but also served as the place of execution for women who were to be hanged.  There were largish windows which looked down onto the public square outside and female criminals would be hung in front of the windows because, apparently, officials were afraid that if women were hung on the street level scaffolds like the men were, people would look up their skirts.

There was also a display of a set of branding irons.  People guilty of different crimes were punished by branding on various parts of their anatomy (thumb, hand, shoulder, etc) depending on the crime.  The figure of the brand, though, depended on the municipality which was punishing you.  For instance, if you were convicted of robbery in Leiden, you would be branded (on the thumb, I think) with the crossed keys which are the symbol of Leiden.  If you got in trouble in Den Haag, you would be branded with a figure of a stork holding a snake in its beak, which is the symbol of Den Haag.  The museum had a collection of a couple dozen of these brands and the two boys were able to identify most of the municipalities (I only knew Leiden and Den Haag).  I don't know if they had just made a collection of these brands for the purpose of the museum or if the prison had had the set originally so that they could mete out punishment on behalf of the other municipalities if needed.

The basement torture chamber was fairly gruesome.  They had the pincers they would use to rip off bits of people and more little stoves and branding equipment.  What was really terrible, though, was that the walls and floors were all lined with Delft tiles, so it was really pretty in there.  The guide said that the tiles were mis-fires from Delft and were therefore note sell-able so they were given to the prison.  The prison needed them (in just this one room) because they were easy to clean.  That strikes me as both very practical and really awful.

It was really a terrific museum and a terrific tour.  If I go back to Den Haag (I probably will) I will probably see if I can squeeze in another visit, since I get in free with my Museum Card.

By the way, the name Gevangenpoort means "Gatehouse"--it looks like a gate house and, I believe, it used to be a gate into the city ages ago.  However, "vangen" also means "to catch" or "to capture".  So, either it is a really terrific coincidence or it is an excellent pun.  Also, if you click here, you can see the Dutch Wikipedia article on the Gevangenpoort and it has pictures.  (I forgot to take a picture of the outside.)

Comazuipers and Compulsory Insurance

The Netherlands is one of those places that has compulsory insurance laws.  (Like the US is about to have.)  Everyone is required to pay for health insurance and that insurance has to meet state mandated requirements for coverage.  Anyone staying in the Netherlands for more than 3 months (the length of a tourist visa) is required to purchase health insurance and register their compliance with the state (including me).  The problem with this, of course, is that there is no encouragement to behave in a way which limits one's liability.  And, given the stereotype of Dutch culture, perhaps there is no surprise in the fact that the Dutch Ministry of Health is trying to figure a way around these artificial constraints on the market.

Earlier this week, one of the Ministers said that anyone picked up drunk, and taken to the hospital because of the advanced state of their inebriation, should be charged for their care.  (The Dutch word is "comazuipers".  Coma is obvious and "zuipers" apparently means "one given to habitual drunkeness".)  Others in the Ministry argue that this isn't fair--that this is a slippery slope and that it will lead to habitual smokers having to pay if they come down with a lung disease and other people being forced to pay if they come down with diseases or ailments as a result of their voluntary behaviors.  They found that quite offensive.  I don't really have a problem with that myself.  It does seem awfully hard on those poor folks, though, that they are forced to pay a rather steep governmental health insurance premium and then are forced to pay for their hospitalization as well.

In any case, it seems like an interesting exercise in the effect of the market and in the reliance placed on it even by officials who have deemed it ineffective.

The nu.nl website had this cartoon about the issue which seems to reflect a Dutch appreciation for policies which make perpetrators bear the cost of their own actions and choices.  The caption says "Health Minister doesn't want drunks in comas to pay for themselves."  The doctor says "Leeching off our tax dollars again, hey moron?!"  (Except he uses an entirely inappropriate word.  I had never seen it before and Google Translate wouldn't translate it.  Then, when I typed it into Google, it didn't automatically look for it--it made me click to search.  Apparently, when you look up vulgar things they make you do it very intentionally.  Even if you do it by accident.  My Google search history is starting to look really, really weird, right about now, after this and the lucifer thing)  and then the other guy says "You have to keep talking to the coma patients.  There's always a chance they'll hear you."

Lucifers

Tomorrow I may have to ask someone "Heeft u nog lucifers?"  Which means "Do you have any matches?"  It seems fitting/very odd that matches are called lucifers.

First, I looked it up on Google Translate--it works pretty well as a dictionary-- and, after sorting through the 10 noun options for "match", it looked like "lucifer" was what I wanted.  Then, I did a Google search for lucifer, just to see if Google Translate had given me the correct translation (I find that it is always best to double-check for alternate meanings--there are just so many ways you can get yourself into trouble, otherwise).  I wanted to be especially certain with this because I wasn't sure that my Dutch would stand up to explaining what I meant if there was translation problem and I asked some nice grocery-store clerk if she had any demons.

What I failed to take into consideration was that this made for a really odd Google search.

This is what my search results looked like.  (I did some redacting.  Who knew.  Apparently, when you look up the devil, sometimes there are very inappropriate pictures.  I wouldn't suggest doing it.)

But, see, right there at the bottom, circled?  It's a match.

The top Wikipedia result  for the search was also the devil.  When I scrolled down a bit I found matches under the entry labeled "Lucifer (voorwerp)".  Voorwerp means noun.  Perhaps it means specifically "common noun", otherwise I don't see how that is really a very helpful distinction.  In any case, this is, apparently, the correct word for what I want.

I may just ask if they have any "luciferboekjes" (matchbooks) instead and hope they direct me toward whatever kind of matches they happen to have and not toward the occult section.

St. David's Day

March 1st was St. David's Day in Wales.  I had intended to post something about it then and got distracted so I will do it now.  Wales is on my list of places that would be fun to see if I go to the UK and have a little time but it is kind of out of the way.  It is the "knees" part of Great Britain and is part of the United Kingdom.

Unlike other members of that union, Wales has managed to retain a greater sense of national unity and identity, including in the preservation of their national language--they even sing about it in their national anthem.  Welsh is a difficult sounding language made up of many, many "f"s and "l"s, often serially, and with very few vowels.  It was, at least partially, the basis for the "Elvish" language in J.R.R.Tolkien's books.

St. David was a 6th century monk who is the patron saint of the Welsh and a symbol of Welsh nationalism.  On St. David's Day, everyone wears leaks and daffodils--the leek is the symbol of St. David and the daffodil (which in Welsh is, apparently, "Peter's Leek") is the national symbol of Wales.

Below is a video of the St. David's Day Parade from this year.  It was published on a website which I gather is for Americans of Welsh origin or vice versa.  It strikes me that there are a lot of kilts in this parade but I guess even the Scots like to celebrate the retention of a national identity.  About 50 seconds in, the bag-pipes start sounding really pretty.  I don't know if that is because it is a different song, because they were just warming up before, or because they later guys were just better but it is worth sticking it out (or skipping ahead) to hear the later stuff.

 

You are probably much more indebted to the Welsh than you ever realized before.  For one thing, they gave us Milton Jones.  And that is quite a lot.

You are probably more familiar with the Welsh, though, because of their music.  The Welsh are known for their really lovely music and for their a Capella men's choirs especially.  Welsh Colliery music was done by musical groups from different mining communities.  Welsh tunes tend to be in minor keys, really beautiful, and complicated.  They are probably the tunes for some of your favorite hymns, especially the older ones.

"Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah", for instance, is sung to Cwm Rhondda, a Welsh tune and I believe the words came from Wales as well.

"Throned Upon That Awful Tree", is sung to Afron, anther Welsh tune.

Other familiar songs with Welsh tunes include "Who is This, so Weak and Lowly" (try avoid looking at the Marvin pictures), "Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise", "How Firm a Foundation", and "The Sands of Time are Sinking".  This link shows a list of old songs, including Psalms, set to Welsh tunes--if you click on the links and then click "stream" you can hear the guy singing all four parts of the songs.

And this is giant men's choir singing "I Hear Thy Welcome Voice" in the original Welsh (the tune is Gwahoddiad).


This isn't (as far as I know) a Welsh tune.  It is however, sung by 8,000 or so Welsh men at a giant concert and it is pretty impressive.  It was done in the early '90s which explains the outfits and the hair.



And here, just for your your cultural improvement and greater appreciation of Wales, part of Act 4, Scene 7, from Shakespeare's Henry V in which Henry V and one of his captains (Fluellen) discuss Welsh-ness, leeks, and St. David's Day.  (And the Wye is the river that runs along part of the border between Wales and England.)

FLUELLEN:                                                   . . . if your majesties is

remembered of it, the Welshmen did good service in a

garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their

Monmouth caps; which, your majesty know, to this

hour is an honourable badge of the service; and I do

believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek

upon Saint Tavy's day.

KING HENRY V:                          I wear it for a memorable honour;

For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

FLUELLEN:                          All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty's

Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that:

God pless it and preserve it, as long as it pleases

his grace, and his majesty too!

KING HENRY V:                           Thanks, good my countryman.

FLUELLEN:                       By Jeshu, I am your majesty's countryman, I care not

who know it; I will confess it to all the 'orld: I

need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be

God, so long as your majesty is an honest man.

Now I am off to make some Potato and Leek Soup (which is delicious if you like potato soups) and I will leave you with the Welsh National Anthem, in Welsh, but with English subtitles, and a picture I took of some narcissi at the Holland Flowers Festival a few days ago, which somewhat resemble, and are probably related to, daffodils.

Meddu ar gwych (hwyr) Dydd Gwyl Dewi, pawb!

(That is how Google Translate says that you should say "Have a happy (late) St. David's Day, everyone!" in Welsh.  For the record though, sometimes Google Translate is not very accurate so don't try to say this to anyone--it might get you in trouble.)

Home

Right now I can smell a farm.  I have no idea where in this area they would be spreading manure (lovely, fresh cow manure--not the stuff that's been sitting all winter) in this area--it's a bit urban--but it sure does smell like home.

Koek & Zopie

I lied before--I still have one last Elfstedentocht post.  There was one other "De Jager" comic related to the Elfstedentocht which was particularly interesting because it relates to general Dutch regional differences and general Dutch winter activities.

This comic says:

"Everyone in the country is out on the ice."

The flags are the regional flags (the one for Friesland and the other for Amsterdam).  

The signs say two things which sound almost exactly the same but which mean different things.

Koek & Zopie is a traditional Dutch winter skating snack.  I mentioned the "koek" previously.  

Zopie is a hot, spiced, alcoholic drink--kind of like wassail, I think.   

Coke & Zuipie, I believe, means "rum and coke".

I think that the point of this cartoon is that everyone is doing the same thing, almost.

Everyone wants to be involved in the ice skating fun.  

Amsterdam almost has it right but not quite because they are just a little too urban, 

a little too south, a little too "party" to really understand real Dutch ice culture.

Koek & zopie have apparently been a pretty traditional part of Dutch ice skating for a couple of centuries at least.  Dutch Wikipedia has an article on this combination which includes two 19th century landscapes which feature koek & zopie stands.  They are slightly more sophisticated than the picture in the above cartoon but you can see the resemblance.

A painting by Andreas Schelfhout, a Dutch painter.  You can see other pictures painted by him here.

A painting by Charles Leickert, a Belgian painter.  You can see other pictures painted by him here.

If you want to recreate this Dutch treat, you need an apple tart (those individual apple pies that you can buy in wax paper wrappers in gas stations are just the ticket) and some zopie.  Luckily for all of you, Dutch Wikipedia also includes an authentic recipe for this drink:

Bring 1 liter of beer, 1 cinnamon stick, 2 cloves, and 2 slices of lemon to a boil.  Simmer over low heat for 20 minutes.  Stir in 2/3 cup brown sugar and 2 eggs, mixing well.  Add 1/2 cup of rum.  Drink smaakelijk!

De-lish, eh?  

Elfstedentocht redux.

Just as a final note on the Elfstedentocht before we're done.  (Unless, of course, we get some cold again.)  As I was looking through the Dutch news site nu.nl, I found some funny cartoons from a strip called "De Jager", many of the recent examples of which refer to the Elfstedentocht.  Because that is all anyone was thinking about for a month or so.  If you want to see other, non-Elfstedentocht related cartoons, the archive is located here.

This cartoon says: 

"Concern that business are getting too strong a grip on the Elfstedentocht."  

Unox is a food company that produces, among other things, wursts which are processed meat logs which look a lot like Polish sausages, hence the finish line which looks like a Polish sausage.  They don't taste like that though.  They taste kind of like weirdly flavored spam.  It is a very distinctive and unusual taste.

This one says

"In places, the ice is too thin for the Elfstedentocht to be run."

Kwik, Kwek, & Kwak are the Dutch version of Huey, Dewey, and Louie (Donald Duck's nephews).  I assume that this version is to avoid copyright issues.  I have no idea why they are relevant to this cartoon.

This one is labeled "Thaw."

And the one guy says to the other: 

"An Elfstedentocht swim . . . have they thought about doing that?"