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Going Dutch

The Dutch (people from Holland/Netherlands) I have always found to be interesting. Initially it was for the superficial reasons of their very open drug policies. But if you can avoid the temptations, and maintain a keen eye towards the very specific way in which they live their lives, there is something to behold that is worth absorbing. Granted, I have only visited three times, and in no way can I offer an accurate commentary. But I cannot do that even for places that I am extremely familiar with.

First of all, the title of the blog. Absolutely spot on true. If you have not heard of the saying “going Dutch”, it means to split the cost of something, usually a meal or night out with a date. Personally I would love to see this adopted by the world. If I was a feminist, I would be outraged at the percentage of girls that put up a ludicrously poor façade that they would like to pay and then when you say “No No, it is OK.” they immediately smile, put their purse down, and order another drink. But I am not a feminist and I smile and nod at the waiter as I give him my left arm for payment. But the Dutch have caught on to this and they are all prepared to make sure that bills are evenly divided. The waiters wait (no pun intended) patiently around your table as 14 girls divide up 13 euros and make sure that the odd number penny is recorded so it can be recouped at the next meal out.

I find Dutch people have the same skull shape. If I were an archaeologist, I would write a paper on it right now and give up on this blog. Reminds me of a very wide squash that has 95% of the top thin portion removed. Same for girls and guys. I find Dutch men always bald in the same manner. Not the woman. Generally a very tall race of people. A good thing considering the country is sinking below the water line at an alarming rate.

The Dutch just do not seem to care. I am sure they care, but they do not show it. They are tasked with Cinta Ninjacharging the world’s worst criminals but they do not care. It is fine to let that criminal bitch and whine for four years until he dies or allow him to claim he is ill so he can talk from his posh jail cell. I walked around constantly like a non-stealth ninja and no one said a thing. A few eyes glanced my way but the moment I gazed back with my ninja fierceness, they returned to their straight edged walk. I blatantly spat in their faces as I rode the wrong way in the bike lanes with my hands in the air and not taking into consideration that they had the kindness to make bike lanes on both sides of the road. Their freaking country is sinking! Not a word from the Dutch. Their front door steps are all at basement level, and no one says a thing. My uncle drove a ferrari into a canal and he just does not seem to mind that much. I suppose, having said all that, it is truly remarkable to be able to maintain that view point on life. It bugs me but I applaud your dedication.

The Dutch made their name on flowers, wooden shoes, windmills, and exploring the world. The latter being the most impressive but all of these things have a common thread. They are sinking! Flowers need water close to their roots. Wooden shoes are to ensure that they can float when the water level rises too high. Windmills, made of wood, to power a country covered in water. Exploration to find new dry lands. I did not hear a single Dutch person address the fact that they are one degree change in global average temperatures before they are living like the boat people in that Asian place I heard about. I would go crazy racking my brain for a solution. Maybe a few people already went crazy thinking about this and this was witnessed by other Dutch people, which spread the word around that if you worry about the water level, you go crazy. Or the solution is already in place and it is so amazing that they cannot reveal it to the rest of the world and they are gambling on the water level rising high enough to affect other parts of the world which they will then sell their idea to. I just cannot figure you Dutch out, throw me a freaking bone.

While trying to enter an empty bar in Den Hague, I was rejected at the door by the bouncer. It was clearly empty behind him. He looked at me, then looked me up and down, and said “I wouldn’t even go to the gym wearing what you are wearing.”

Published inLukeTraveling