For those not particularly well-versed in the Dutch language (I can’t imagine there are many of you), “fietsen” means “bicycles,” and by golly there are a lot of them here. Before departing for Maastricht, our class had to read a book titled The UnDutchables, which is a light-hearted treatment of Dutch culture. In it, the authors noted that the Dutch are really into riding bicycles. Because the book was really light-hearted, though, I wasn’t sure how seriously I took their assessment of Dutch bicycling. As soon as our bus drove into Maastricht, though, I realized that bikes really are a big deal.

 Everybody here seems to ride a bicycle. They are literally everywhere. When it comes to crossing the road, almost all cars will stop for you to cross the street at a crosswalk, but bicycles will not. The hierarchy of right-of-way goes thusly: bicycles, mopeds, pedestrians, cars, squirrels. The bicycle assumes such high status here that there are bike lanes on all of the major roads, and there are even grooves that go up outdoor stairs so that bicyclists can walk their bike to the top and down again. It’s a nutty system. Continue reading →

Time to ponder to oddities of language. In my time here, I have encountered the following languages: English, Dutch, German, French, and Flemish. That is exactly four more languages than I know. This immersion into cultures that regularly speak another language has impacted me more than just about anything else on this trip. It has been at the same time humbling, frustrating, and impressive.

 Humbling. We go about our lives speaking English and having other people understand you. We can speak quickly and slur our words and our companions can still make out what we mean. In another country, however, it immediately struck me how artificial language really is. It is socially constructed and the sounds that come out of our mouths have meaning only as far as we apply meaning to them. That I can sit and listen to a Dutch conversation from a neighboring café table and not have any idea what’s happening astounds me. I watched a television program that looked to be just man telling stories on stage (in Dutch). I couldn’t believe it when the audience would laugh after he finished a sentence. How could that random string of words elicit laughter? Did they really understand what he was talking about? Continue reading →

*Just a note: this post was written in conjuction with a class assignment, hence the reference to a 19th century sociologist.*

According to Durkheim (1895), as discussed in class, our reactions to deviance can (and in fact, should—according to Durkheim) affirm cultural values and norms. In no other circumstance do I feel this is more pertinent than in the utter absence of water fountains in this and other European countries. The keenest of readers will recall a post from about three weeks ago about having to pay for water everywhere in Maastricht. While this is annoying at a restaurant, the frustration is compounded outside of local eateries when one discovers that there is nowhere to get a nice free drink of water. I have looked, and apparently, the water fountain is not something that the Dutch care very much for. This brings me back to Durkheim…the overwhelming lack of free water has made me much more cognizant of how much I love water fountains. Passing by a bubbler in the hallway on the way to class, I cannot help but stop for a nice refreshing sip. It’s healthy, too! More water in your daily livings promotes a more efficient metabolism and helps with plenty of other things too. Because it’s so hard to justify paying €2.5 for a tiny glass of water, I end up getting pop or other less-nutritionally beneficial liquids.

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Included in our program fee for this study abroad (yes, there is learning that happens here too) was money for a few field trips/fun class events. There have been three of them, and so to catch you up, I will offer a short blurb on each. Be forewarned, though–I didn’t have my camera at any of these events so there are no pretty photographs.

1. The International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia in The Hague, Netherlands. We took a bus up to this fancy building where they hold lots and lots of trials for really terrible people that did awful things to lots of people. We sat in on a trial for a few minutes and watched more on a big screen and then had people talk to us. The trials themselves are interesting because they are United Nations functions and the people speak different languages, so all the people in the courtroom are wearing headphones and live translators are translating the trial in any number of languages in real time. The people who spoke with us were talking about how they take care of witnesses who have to come to the Netherlands from their hometowns in Eastern Europe to speak in the court. It was quite interesting.

2. Caves. So in Maastricht, there is this elaborate mine set up from more than a hundred years ago. A nice man took us on a short tour of the cave-like mine tunnels with beautiful charcoal drawings on some of the walls. In fact, it was in these mines that archaeologists found a full dinosaur skeleton. Purty neat.

3. Wine Tasting. Last wednesday, our class met for a three-hour class on wine taught by a really neat lady whose name I forget. I learned that wine is to be assesed by your eyes, nose, mouth, and throat…I could have figured most of that out on my own. But there were, of course, nuances of wine that I now (only barely) understand. We tried a number of varieties ranging from white to rosé to red to sparkling. It was a good time and the girl next to me had a bit too much and fell asleep for a little while. The cheese was good too.

Careful readers will note that at the beginning of my journey to the find collection of land known as “Europe,” I made it my goal to eat genuine ratatouille (the dish, not the movie) in Paris. I’ll be upfront with you–I didn’t realize that goal.

I tried, though! I really did. The problem is that ratatouille, while French, is not native to the Paris region of France. It would be like looking for authentic southern comfort food in Chicago; it’s there, but it’s not easy to find. I asked my friend Lauren (whom you’ll remember from the brilliantly written Paris, Day 1 post) where I might find ratatouille in Paris. She said that she’d asked the lady she lives with and told me to look for a “Basque” region restaurant because that’s where they’d have it. I had the first clue.

On the Saturday of the trip (for additional context, see Paris, Day 3), I asked the nice man who operated our hotel if he knew of any Basque restaurants where I might find ratatouille. He stopped, looked into the distance, pondering the question. Finally he said, “I know of one. They are not common.” He excused himself and slipped into the background to look up the restaurant on the Internet. A few moments later, he came out with notes scrawled on a Post-It and pointed to a place on a giant Paris road map hanging on the wall. “This is where you will find a Basque restaurant.” Worked for me. The trick, then, was finding the place. Continue reading →

Okay, readers. Ever since I was a tiny boy, I have dreamed of visiting London (and England in general). Until recently, I wondered when such a visit would ever transpire, but to the joy of my little heart, I spent the past three days in the wonderful city of London. And the thing is…I liked even better than I expected. It’s a city for sure, but it feels less like a city than Paris and is just swimming in neat culture and cool people. Because this is the final stretch of the week, I’ll just hit the basics and the most Englishy things because I need to save my energy for the final few Dutch posts. Continue reading →

Okay, folks. It’s taken me forever to finsih my Parisian tales. I got back last Sunday, and I’m still writing. Here’s the rub–I’m leaving tomorrow for London, so I need to finish the Paris stuff before I have more things to say. That said, I will finish off Paris quickly…a little bit because I didn’t write down exactly what we did on the last day. I should also mention that a considerable part of the day will be described in another post titled Ratatouille.

On our last full day in Paris, we started out by meeting Hannah and Ben at the Notre Dame cathedral (pictured in this post). We walked around the church and went inside. It was aiight. I’ve seen enough cathedrals on this trip that they’re starting to blur together. By and large, they are very similar. I know what you’re thinking, though, and no–I didn’t see a hunchback anywhere. Continue reading →

And we’re back. So what else happened in Paris? My golly, I’m glad you asked because quite a bit happened. It just so happens that here in my notebook I’ve written my recollections of Day 2 so that I might share the wonderful experience with the fine folks reading this here blog. But because I’ve noticed some of my posts meandering through neighborhoods of banality, I’ll go ahead and try to keep to the highlights and be reasonably brief.

The day begins at the Louvre. Molly, Stephanie, and I took the metro from our hotel to meet Hannah and Ben at the museum. After a quick stop for coffee, we entered the Louvre. Now as I’m sure you know (because you’re a stunningly bright individual), the Louvre is a very famous museum of art that houses such works as the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and other such trivialities. The museum is set up in a U shape, and the courtyard area is simply gorgeous. Fountains and glass pyramids and intricate architecture. I sight to see for sure.

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Bonjour! This afternoon I got back from a weekend in Paris, and it was prety swell. You’ll have read before that I wasn’t sure if I’d like the city because it’s never been my top travel destination, but I saw the light, and I now appreciate the city of Paris (that time I said “Paris” in French).

Where to start? At the beginning, maybe? So we took train from Maastrich to Liege and then a “hi-speed” train from Liege to Paris (Gare du Nord–you know the stop). We were meeting our friends Hannah and Ben at the train station, but the problem was that nobody ever really knew exactly where we were meeting. We meandered about the train station for a while to the point that we wondered if we’d ever meet up and just have to have separate Paris experiences. But there, crossing some sort of bridge in the distance came the two of them strolling our direction. We met and exchanged pleasantries before purchasing a 3-day metro pass and taking the train to our hotel.

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People who have known me for a while and have cared to listen know that I’ve never been keen on visiting Paris. I’ve always heard people gush about how much they want to visit Paris, and I have always provided my snippy reply: “Ugh. Paris is the one place in the world that I have no desire to visit.” And until now, I’ve thought that. Something about it just hasn’t sat well with me. Perhaps it’s just that so many people dream of going there. Perhaps it’s because I’ve always bought into the stereotype of Parisians as aloof and pretentious. Perhaps it’s because the Eiffel tower is just a big metal thing. I don’t know.

I’ve come around, though. No longer do I scoff at the notion of visiting Paris, and in fact, I’m looking forward to it. As a one-time art student, I can look forward to France’s artistic offerings (the Loovruh, anyone?), fromage, and any number of things. More than anything, though, I can look forward to being in the city where Ratatouille was set. So, okay. Maybe the French will surprise me. We’ll just have to see.

But I think I’m excited for this weekend not for the wonder and majesty of Paris but because I’ll be meeting up with two of my friends over there. I’ll be meeting my high school friend, Lauren, who has been studying in the country for some time now and whom I haven’t seen in quite some more time. I’ll also be meeting up with my friend Hannah from Eastern as our European travel routes intersect for the weekend. For these people alone I’m excited! And if the art, history, and cuisine happen to make an appearance, well, I think that’ll be fine too.