When I arrived in the Netherlands, I was already aware of two of the most striking aspects of living here: the monthly air raid siren test and the Zwarte Pieten; but it tends to be the minor things that make you wonder what exactly you're supposed to do, or how you should react in a certain situation.
But first the striking things. The monthly air raid siren is pretty much what it sounds like. It's sounded at 11 o'clock on the first Monday of every month, and is strangely musical, unlike the building wail of the sirens during the London Blitz that you might imagine. Zwarte Piet ("Black Pete") is a bit harder to explain. He's the mischievous helper of the Dutch version of Father Christmas or Santa Claus, "Sinterklaas", and though I knew about Zwarte Piet, it's still strange to see Zwarte Piet on TV or in the flesh - because people playing Zwarte Piet have to paint their faces black and wear Renaissance style clothes. There's naturally been soul-searching over the representation of Zwarte Piet, but apart from an experiment on Dutch TV of having different coloured Pieten, the traditional blackface appearence has remained.
As Sinterklaas lives in a castle in Madrid (he travels to the Netherlands every year in the middle of November by steamboat), two questions have been idlely floating around my mind.* First, why does Spain still have such a hold on the Dutch imagination when the country has been independent from them for centuries, and they don't neighbour each other, and secondly, I have been wondering whether Dutch families ever visit Sinterklaas in Spain, like the Santa's Grotto in Lapland? So far I've just been told that Sinterklaas kidnaps bad children and takes them back to his Spanish castle, so I suppose it's not necessarily somewhere you would want to visit. Although there is a YouTube video claiming to have spotted him in Madrid:
So far things have been pretty straight-forward, however. Though it becomes more complicated when you're dealing with an international group when it comes to arranging a night out in a pub. It's hard to know exactly what people's conception of time is. On Monday arrangements were made to go out at 8:30pm. At home, the starting time seems to be purely theoretical, and the word "about" is usually included as recognition of this. "We'll be out at about 9". Nobody would arrive at 9, and only a few would turn up within half an hour of that time; nearly everyone will have arrived after an hour and a half. So sometimes the best way is to find out when other people are themselves planning to go out (the reply inevitably features another "about" which signifies a 30 minute margin), and then arrive at the time when most of the "abouts" overlap.
So on Monday evening it struck me that I didn't know just how late to arrive: an important question when you don't want to spend 30 minutes sitting on your own in a pub.
The "problem" was easily solved by meeting up with someone before going to the pub, and most people arrived within an hour. I was told that the Bulgarian rule is: after the meeting time, you wait 5 minutes out of obligation, and another 5 minutes out of courtesy. And though I didn't quite overthink the situation as I might have written it in this post, I'm wondering now: what are the different cultural rules for meeting up across Europe?
*The steamboat might be the more obvious thing to wonder about; I think the reason is that most Sinterklaas traditions originated in the 19th Century. My idle thoughts don't seem to be very consistent in what they wonder about.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Leiden, stad van mijn hart...
The major anniversary in Europe on the 3rd of October may have been the Tag der deutschen Einheit ("Day of German Unity"), but the small city of Leiden marked the anniversary of Leidens Ontzet in a big way this weekend.
Leidens Ontzet.
Leidens Ontzet, of the Relief of Leiden, marks the relief of the city over 400 years ago when it was besieged by the Spainish during the Dutch struggle for independence. As a reward for the Leideners' courage in resisting the Spanish, they were given a choice of exemption from taxes or a university, and they chose a university, so the anniversary is an important date in the University's history too. This year the 3rd fell on a Sunday, so the celebrations were spread out over the weekend, with Monday as a holiday for the city.
The scale and duration of the festival was impressive. The kermis (fun fair) was open during Friday and Saturday, and was crammed into the area surrounding the train station, taking up any available space. On Saturday bars and stages were set up all over the city, so when night fell the city turned into a strange mix of overlapping discos, complete with lights and a worrying over-use of smoke machines. The remaining space was filled with stalls selling sweets, snacks and, well, pretty much everything as a Christmas market array of goods was put on sale - DVDs, clothes, art...
Of course, you had to eat Hutspot at some point. Hutspot is the traditional Leiden Ontzet dinner. It's made of potato, onions and carrot mashed together with some meat (usually sausage, but mine had beef). There seem to be a few versions of the Hutspot story. The most simple explanation is that it was what the people ate to stave off starvation during the siege, but other stories involve a boy who was sent out to check that the Spanish had left when the siege broke. The boy either discovered the Hutspot bubbling away in a pot the Spanish had left behind, or the food he gathered into the pot he brought back with him was used in the meal. In any case, De Lakenhal has a pot on display that is supposed to be the origin of the Hutspot. It's not exactly the most visually attractive dish, but it doesn't taste as bad as it looks!
On Sunday, marching bands ruled Leiden, putting on shows and, naturally, playing music. On Monday, Leideners gathered beside the townhall (Stadhuis) at 6.30am to sing songs before eating raw herring and white bread (food that the relieving Dutch troops brought to Leiden). Lots of people turned up for the event and lyrics were handed out so everyone could sing along as dawn broke. I was surprised how serious people must take the festival to turn up in such numbers early in the morning (and probably after a festivally unhealthy amount of alcohol), but there was lots of chatting, with bursts of singing as the musical cues radiated out from the centre (I was quite close to the edge of the gathering). The singing was ended by a procession through the town (lead by a marching band, of course), and marching bands generally played throughout the city for the rest of the morning and afternoon. I didn't get to try the raw herring and white bread (haring en wittebrood) since by the end of the singing there was already a long queue snaking halfway down the road along the canal. The day ended with a colourful fireworks display.
Dutch & Leiden identity.
A friend from England happened to be visiting during the celebrations, and she wondered if the Dutch were very nationalistic given the large celebration of what was a civic and not a national anniversary. Having only been here a short while, I don't think I have really got a sense of how the Dutch view their identity yet, but the celebration seemed to be an indiction of how seriously the Dutch take organising a party. It was also a very civic celebration, even though it had an event in the history of Dutch independence at its heart; Leiden flags easily outnumbered Dutch ones (not that there seemed to be very many flags), and today all flags seemed to have disappeared (even from the Stadhuis). At the moment it feels like a controlled and well-organised burst of civic clebration and identity that hasn't really carried over (bar hangovers) to the 5th October. On the other hand, identity issues are undoubtedly an important issue in the Netherlands today, with the PVV (Geert Wilders' party) now big enough to be in the position of supporting the minority coalition government.
Over the next year I'll try to pick up more of the Dutch culture and language, and try to follow the interesting political situation here.
Leidens Ontzet.
Leidens Ontzet, of the Relief of Leiden, marks the relief of the city over 400 years ago when it was besieged by the Spainish during the Dutch struggle for independence. As a reward for the Leideners' courage in resisting the Spanish, they were given a choice of exemption from taxes or a university, and they chose a university, so the anniversary is an important date in the University's history too. This year the 3rd fell on a Sunday, so the celebrations were spread out over the weekend, with Monday as a holiday for the city.
The scale and duration of the festival was impressive. The kermis (fun fair) was open during Friday and Saturday, and was crammed into the area surrounding the train station, taking up any available space. On Saturday bars and stages were set up all over the city, so when night fell the city turned into a strange mix of overlapping discos, complete with lights and a worrying over-use of smoke machines. The remaining space was filled with stalls selling sweets, snacks and, well, pretty much everything as a Christmas market array of goods was put on sale - DVDs, clothes, art...
Of course, you had to eat Hutspot at some point. Hutspot is the traditional Leiden Ontzet dinner. It's made of potato, onions and carrot mashed together with some meat (usually sausage, but mine had beef). There seem to be a few versions of the Hutspot story. The most simple explanation is that it was what the people ate to stave off starvation during the siege, but other stories involve a boy who was sent out to check that the Spanish had left when the siege broke. The boy either discovered the Hutspot bubbling away in a pot the Spanish had left behind, or the food he gathered into the pot he brought back with him was used in the meal. In any case, De Lakenhal has a pot on display that is supposed to be the origin of the Hutspot. It's not exactly the most visually attractive dish, but it doesn't taste as bad as it looks!
On Sunday, marching bands ruled Leiden, putting on shows and, naturally, playing music. On Monday, Leideners gathered beside the townhall (Stadhuis) at 6.30am to sing songs before eating raw herring and white bread (food that the relieving Dutch troops brought to Leiden). Lots of people turned up for the event and lyrics were handed out so everyone could sing along as dawn broke. I was surprised how serious people must take the festival to turn up in such numbers early in the morning (and probably after a festivally unhealthy amount of alcohol), but there was lots of chatting, with bursts of singing as the musical cues radiated out from the centre (I was quite close to the edge of the gathering). The singing was ended by a procession through the town (lead by a marching band, of course), and marching bands generally played throughout the city for the rest of the morning and afternoon. I didn't get to try the raw herring and white bread (haring en wittebrood) since by the end of the singing there was already a long queue snaking halfway down the road along the canal. The day ended with a colourful fireworks display.
Dutch & Leiden identity.
A friend from England happened to be visiting during the celebrations, and she wondered if the Dutch were very nationalistic given the large celebration of what was a civic and not a national anniversary. Having only been here a short while, I don't think I have really got a sense of how the Dutch view their identity yet, but the celebration seemed to be an indiction of how seriously the Dutch take organising a party. It was also a very civic celebration, even though it had an event in the history of Dutch independence at its heart; Leiden flags easily outnumbered Dutch ones (not that there seemed to be very many flags), and today all flags seemed to have disappeared (even from the Stadhuis). At the moment it feels like a controlled and well-organised burst of civic clebration and identity that hasn't really carried over (bar hangovers) to the 5th October. On the other hand, identity issues are undoubtedly an important issue in the Netherlands today, with the PVV (Geert Wilders' party) now big enough to be in the position of supporting the minority coalition government.
Over the next year I'll try to pick up more of the Dutch culture and language, and try to follow the interesting political situation here.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
European Literary Prize: Everyone's a winner, so does anyone actually win?
The first ever EU literary prize was awarded yesterday, and everyone won. Well, 12 people from 12 participating countries won, and, over the next 2 years, all the other participating countries will each have their winner too. As the EUobserver comments, it's a bit:
"...like an elementary school sports day where every child wins a medal..."
There are apparently hopes that the award will become one of the most talked about literary awards, like "the Booker Prize, the Prix Goncourt or America's National Book Award", but there's not much to mark it out as special or "European". The procedure for picking winners reads like an attempt to give each individual country's publishing industry a bit of a boost by claiming that a local book won a European prize.
...So national juries judging national books based on national contexts/traditions... Where exactly is the added "European" value? There is something to be said for trying to give a boost to national publishing industries, but it's unlikely that this will have much impact: after all, the more winners there are, the less exclusive and prestigious the prize becomes. A small number of prizes (or even just one prize) to the best books from across a continent could be a much sought-after award, if the literary standards were exacting. Henning Mankell, who presided over the award this year argued strongly for a more exclusive prize:
The promotion of "diversity" seems too often to focus on state sensitivities instead of real cultural diversity and ends up devaluing the celebration of whatever cultural form is taking its turn at being officially "celebrated" - after all when nationality takes such a central role, it distracts from what merits the winners might have. A good use of categories and a long and short list could draw attention to the range of good literate that is (hopefully) being produced across Europe while preserving the value of the prize itself.
"...like an elementary school sports day where every child wins a medal..."
There are apparently hopes that the award will become one of the most talked about literary awards, like "the Booker Prize, the Prix Goncourt or America's National Book Award", but there's not much to mark it out as special or "European". The procedure for picking winners reads like an attempt to give each individual country's publishing industry a bit of a boost by claiming that a local book won a European prize.
"The Prize consists of an award to a talent from each of the participating countries in 2009, 2010 and 2011 respectively. The 12 countries selected for the 2009 Awards were: Austria, Croatia, France, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Lithuania, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Slovakia and Sweden. In 2010 Belgium, Cyprus, Denmark, Estonia, Germany, Finland, Luxembourg, Macedonia, Romania, Slovenia and Spain will participate, followed by Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Greece, Iceland, Latvia, Liechtenstein, Malta, Serbia, The Netherlands, Turkey and United Kingdom in 2011.
The European Union Prize for Literature is co-financed by the Culture Programme and by the selected consortium composed of the European Booksellers Federation (EBF), the European Writers' Council (EWC) and the Federation of European Publishers (FEP).
The consortium asked national bodies to establish a jury for the selection of this prize within their country.
The jury in each country followed a model that adapted to the national context." [Link, including the winners list]
...So national juries judging national books based on national contexts/traditions... Where exactly is the added "European" value? There is something to be said for trying to give a boost to national publishing industries, but it's unlikely that this will have much impact: after all, the more winners there are, the less exclusive and prestigious the prize becomes. A small number of prizes (or even just one prize) to the best books from across a continent could be a much sought-after award, if the literary standards were exacting. Henning Mankell, who presided over the award this year argued strongly for a more exclusive prize:
""Handing out a dozen or 34 prizes over three years is acceptable only for the first years. It makes no sense; it lessens its value," he told EUobserver.
"You cannot continue to have 12 prizes every year. Instead there should be just one or two prizes," he continued. "I don't honestly know how impressive it is. I think it is that Europe has a responsibility to do this sort of thing. This is the minimum of what has to be done. It's a small step.""
The promotion of "diversity" seems too often to focus on state sensitivities instead of real cultural diversity and ends up devaluing the celebration of whatever cultural form is taking its turn at being officially "celebrated" - after all when nationality takes such a central role, it distracts from what merits the winners might have. A good use of categories and a long and short list could draw attention to the range of good literate that is (hopefully) being produced across Europe while preserving the value of the prize itself.
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Being European, or becoming European?
European identity is a complex one with many debates surrounding it (European nationalisms and identities is a particular interest of Josef's over at the Citizen-Europe blog), and identity, politics and culture fascinate me in how they interact at times. Still, on the question of European identity, I can only give a personal response.
So am I European, becoming European or is there any "European" for me to be anyway?
"European" to me is a lot of things. First, there's the mix of values that always gets mentioned when European identity is brought up; which is shown in a certain balance between individualism and the community and the welfare state. It's also a shared cultural and historical legacy that has shaped the continent and its nations, though sometimes in different ways.
Mostly, for me, being - or becoming - European is aspirational. When I think of Europe, I think of its diversity and its languages and its traditions, and I want to travel, explore and experience all of the little differences, while I still feel at home. To me it's not rootless cosmopolitanism, but a deep appreciation for many roots and a desire to feel a part of the different places and people that I meet.
Being European seems to be a process; of traveling, learning, meeting and experiencing, in places that feel to be familiar, but with added flavour. It's not something that I can really claim to be very good at - I have no natural gift at languages, though I try in my own way to learn more and practice (see my on-again-off-again German blog), and in many ways I'm very rooted locally: with my friends and family, and with my degree (and presumably career) path anchoring me home. I'm also a creature of habit. Though some factors mean that I cannot move as freely as some, I have met several people who I have found inspirational in their attitude.
For me, the European Ideal is in discovering and enjoying all that Europe has to offer. I doubt that many people could ever really "be" European - at least in the fullest sense of what I have in my head - but I think that the process of becoming is perhaps the major part of the thing itself. It's certainly one of the most enjoyable parts.
So am I European? Can you ever really say for yourself? Blogging has made me feel more European, and more connected, and has moved me to become a part of things like Th!nk2. If nothing else, I certainly want to be European - I've seen it, and I want to be part of it.
Do you think that a European identity could ever be inspirational (or aspirational)?
So am I European, becoming European or is there any "European" for me to be anyway?
"European" to me is a lot of things. First, there's the mix of values that always gets mentioned when European identity is brought up; which is shown in a certain balance between individualism and the community and the welfare state. It's also a shared cultural and historical legacy that has shaped the continent and its nations, though sometimes in different ways.
Mostly, for me, being - or becoming - European is aspirational. When I think of Europe, I think of its diversity and its languages and its traditions, and I want to travel, explore and experience all of the little differences, while I still feel at home. To me it's not rootless cosmopolitanism, but a deep appreciation for many roots and a desire to feel a part of the different places and people that I meet.
Being European seems to be a process; of traveling, learning, meeting and experiencing, in places that feel to be familiar, but with added flavour. It's not something that I can really claim to be very good at - I have no natural gift at languages, though I try in my own way to learn more and practice (see my on-again-off-again German blog), and in many ways I'm very rooted locally: with my friends and family, and with my degree (and presumably career) path anchoring me home. I'm also a creature of habit. Though some factors mean that I cannot move as freely as some, I have met several people who I have found inspirational in their attitude.
For me, the European Ideal is in discovering and enjoying all that Europe has to offer. I doubt that many people could ever really "be" European - at least in the fullest sense of what I have in my head - but I think that the process of becoming is perhaps the major part of the thing itself. It's certainly one of the most enjoyable parts.
So am I European? Can you ever really say for yourself? Blogging has made me feel more European, and more connected, and has moved me to become a part of things like Th!nk2. If nothing else, I certainly want to be European - I've seen it, and I want to be part of it.
Do you think that a European identity could ever be inspirational (or aspirational)?
Friday, 20 February 2009
A Song for Europe*
Politics will always bubble over into culture, and now it could feature in the Georgian Eurovision entry this year. Though I suppose it depends on where you stand on Eurovision being culture.
It's not exactly great political satire, but should the EBU ask the group to change the lyrics? The Eurovision is supposed to be a fun kind of continental get-together (naturally to get drunk), so political digs at other countries isn't really in keeping with the spirit of the contest. But should that mean intervention by the EBU?
*A gold star for correctly identifying the reference.
"We Don't Wanna Put In / The negative move, / It's killin' the groove," using a phrase that sounds like "We don't want Putin."
It's not exactly great political satire, but should the EBU ask the group to change the lyrics? The Eurovision is supposed to be a fun kind of continental get-together (naturally to get drunk), so political digs at other countries isn't really in keeping with the spirit of the contest. But should that mean intervention by the EBU?
*A gold star for correctly identifying the reference.
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