Polka Choir

I couldn't resist riding downtown this afternoon to attend Paasmarkt (i.e., Easter Market), with its glittering promises of Eastern / Indian products and live music. 

After checking out the wares here and at the market in Beverwijk, I've come to the conclusion that "Eastern / Indian products" does not mean what I think it means.   

To me, it means exciting new spices and exotic utensils for the Asian kitchen.  In the Netherlands, it appears to mean imported linens, wallets, perfumes, and t-shirts...in other words, something between a flea market and a row of vendors from the streets of New York.  

Not really my kind of stuff, though I was sorely tempted by a t-shirt that said (in Dutch): "I'm blond, so you'll have to speak slowly."  Which would be a perfect introduction to my Dutch conversation skills.

All was not lost, however, because I joyfully discovered what can only be described as a series of Dutch Polka Choirs: groups of 15-20 middle-aged Nederlanders in matching outfits lustily singing Dutch polka-style folks tunes. Oh, yes.  Yes, yes, yes.

The first group was the most charming, if not the most in tune.  Apparently sponsored by a fruit drink (note the underaged worker with his promotional sign to the right of the stage), they sang spirited ballads that went something like this to my ears:

Nederland...mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm

Fiesten (bicycles) mmm mmm mmm mooi (lovely) 

Hmmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm 

Mmmm mmm mmm Vaderland (fatherland)! 

The second group I saw took it up a notch with their Netherlands flag scarves, the talents of a soloist, and their heartfelt ballad dedicated to Amstel (the beer). 

And the third group proved once again that you can always count on women in leopard print to draw a crowd.  Even if they're on the cougar side of leopard. 

20 x 8 x 8

It would be a grave understatement to say that I am happy to be back in the Netherlands after nearly three weeks of purging more stuff, closing on our house, packing things up, visiting my parents and shopping for hard-to-find essentials.  

I briefly contemplated posting updates from our journey to Madison, WI and Fulton, NY, but somehow, weekly dispatches on the desperate act of cleaning out a basement just don't have the same intrigue as our Dutch adventures.  

Certainly there were no pornographic gummi candies to be found in the upstanding city of Madison.  Although we did find a certain amount of intrigue in fielding questions along the lines of "Netherlands...is that near Amsterdam?!"

Some quick logistical updates, for those of you playing along at home: 

We sold our house without any breakdown-inducing last-minute issues from the buyer, so we are no longer members of the landed gentry: 

We did not manage to escape the shackles of home ownership and long-distance mortgage payment, however, without one last opportunity to shovel snow.  At the very end of March.  

With the help of four diligent movers, our earthly belongings are now packed like sardines into a 20-foot shipping container (insert two sleepless nights about whether everything would fit into a 20 x 8 x 8 metal box) and are happily positioned atop the MSC Davos.  Which, thankfully, will not be taking the Gulf of Aden route to the Netherlands! 

If/when the container arrives in Rotterdam at the end of April, we'll move from our IKEA dream flat into the upper two stories of a house that (we hope) will feel more like home for the next two to three years:

The apartment is a short walk to shops, restaurants and the center of Nijmegen, which we're excited about after living squarely (and I do mean squarely) in the middle of campus for 8 weeks.  

It also has two bedrooms and a closet-sized room called a third bedroom, which we hope will encourage a steady stream of pilgrims to the cultural riches Nijmegen has to offer.  

As a side note, have I mentioned that we're living in the oldest city in the Netherlands?  We saw recently that Nijmegen's city slogan has changed from "Nijmegen: up to date since 2000 years!" to the less grammatically thrilling "Always Nijmegen".  Who knew what marketing genius we would discover in this part of the world?!

Since returning to Nijmegen, we've been mostly trying to remember our paltry Dutch and reacquaint ourselves with our hobbit-sized refrigerator.  After our snow-filled excursion to the Upper Midwest, we're also relishing spring weather lovely enough for bike riding in jeans and a t-shirt.  

We have also been enjoying the endless long weekend of Easter, which has brought with it the handy realization that the Easter egg dye of my childhood, PAAS, comes from the Dutch word for Easter: Pasen.  

I really don't think that anyone other than PAAS makes Easter egg dye, which makes me wonder how this small Pennsylvania Dutch company has managed to skirt antitrust laws for all these years.

And, we've discovered that bowling is a popular Easter pastime for the Dutch.  

Or perhaps it's just that the citizens of Nijmegen couldn't resist the clever rhyming poetry at the Ol' Round:

"Ga u met Pasen naar het strand / of nemen we een bowlingbal ter hand" translates roughly to "For Easter, go to the beach or go bowling!"