Favorite Things (I’ll miss)

Two things are happening that are making me feel like our time in Amsterdam is counting down. First, at the beginning of October we passed our one-year anniversary here. Since we’re only on a two-year tour, we’re now over halfway done and I’ve already started seeing things and thinking “Oh! That’s the last time we’ll do/see/taste/hear that.” Second, at the beginning of November, we’re supposed to hear where we’ll be sent for our next post. I know from the past that, as soon as I know where we’re going next, I start mentally “checking out” of where we are now. Last time, when we were at our last post and we found out we were going to Amsterdam, “checking out” helped me; it gave me a light at end of the tunnel. But, this time, given how much I LOVE living in Amsterdam, it’s quite different.

On one hand, I feel like the transient life we lead prompts me to appreciate and take advantage of the opportunities that are around us. (By the end of December, for example, we’ll have visited 20 countries in one year.) On the other hand, I can also find myself falling into the “grass is greener” outlook—always looking to the next post for better x, y or z and not working on, accepting or appreciating what we have at the current post.

So, to deal with all these conflicting emotions, I thought I’d start writing down some of my favorite things about living in Amsterdam—little and big.

I’ll start with something little… I love that in so many Dutch stores/places of service they have cappuccino machines and offer you one while you shop/wait.  Hair salons. Clothing stores. Auto repair shops (seriously!).  Everywhere, it seems. I love me my free cappuccinos!

The Mother Web

When Kahlilah was born, it was like a million invisible strands connected us. For a blissful six months, nothing disturbed that web. But, then, Kahlilah reached six months old and we decided to start introducing foods. Until then (and, for that matter, much after then), Kahlilah was breastfed. But, the moment I put the spoon of pureed bananas in her mouth, I felt something change. For nine months in the womb and for six months since her birth, I was her only source of sustenance. No longer. A strand connecting her to me snapped. It was bitter and sweet, bitter knowing she needed me a little less and sweet knowing that she was on her way to becoming her own independent person.

Since that day three years ago, there have been many other strands broken. Some, I know to expect…her first steps on her own, her first complete sentence, her first day at preschool.  Others, I don’t know to expect but perhaps are all the more emotional because of it.  One of those unexpected changes happened today. To the outsider, I’m sure, it wouldn’t seem notable.

As I was putting Kahlilah’s coat on to leave school, she whispered in my ear if I would ask another child’s parent if she could go over to their house to play. Partly because I didn’t want to be rude and basically invite my child over to someone else’s house and partly to challenge Kahlilah to speak for herself, I told her that, if she wanted to do it, she could ask. She paused for a moment and I fully expected that she’d do her typical shy retreat, hiding behind me. But, this time, it was different; she was different. She looked straight into the eyes of the other parent and asked in broken, polite words for a playdate at their house.  (I didn’t even give her a prompt with what to say like I’d done in the past.) The parent was surprised but said that she’d be happy to have Kahlilah over next week.  At that was it, that was the moment. Kahlilah demonstrated that she is confident enough to ask (politely!) an adult for something she wants, with no help from me. It probably would not be notable to anyone else but, for me, her mother, one other delicate, invisible strand snapped.

Yes, it was just one of thousands of other strands that still connect me to her. And I know that there will be some strands that will connect us for all our lives…or at least I hope so! But, still, it’s bittersweet and I feel it deeply.  Like for a spider, what happens with even one strand reverberates across the whole web: my mother web shakes with each step Kahlilah takes towards her individuality. But, I couldn’t be prouder.

Adjusting fire while travelling

After a pretty difficult, dangerous first post in the Foreign Service, we had the incredible luck of being assigned to a European post on our second tour.  Knowing that this may be our only chance to live in a place where it’s so easy to visit so many places, we’re trying to make all our time here count: our goal has been to visit a different country each month. (Right now, we’re in the midst of a flurry of Nordic trips to take make sure we’re visiting them when there’s still sun but not TOO much sun: we just got back from Stockholm, Sweden, soon we’ll go see the fjords in Norway and a few weeks later I go to northern Finland with my mom to explore our Finnish roots.)

Albert and I both liked travelling earlier in our lives. And we still do. (I’ll go farther than that: travelling is a part of who I am. Really, it’s a love.) But, now, we’re not travelling as individuals: we’re travelling as a family. I used to say, when I was still backpacking my way around with friends, that you see the best and worst of each other when you travel. Well, when you travel with a child, I find that PART of that rule still holds true: you see the absolute worst in yourself as a parent and, often, in your child.

It makes sense… Your child is out of her home environment, with all the normal routines, toys and snacks that are so important to her. She isn’t particularly interested in beautiful vistas, historical buildings, museums or that unusual local food. You have expectations about what you want to see, do and eat and you have often already invested money to get there to do so. It’s a situation ripe for conflict.

And, we’ve had our fair share of conflict. On our first trip outside the Benalux area (thus our first trip that required more than just an hour or two drive), we went to London. The morning of the first day found us trying to get Kahlilah to stop rolling around on the disgusting floor of the Tube station in the throes of a full-fledged temper tantrum. Albert threatened he was about to go back to our hotel, not to come out again. The afternoon found us trying desperately to keep Kahlilah entertained so we could at least walk by (not even go in) world-famous sites like the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey.  I ended up breaking down in tears, wondering whether this would be our last trip like this…why spend the money to travel to places when we couldn’t actually go in and see them?

So, what to do? Well, over the last few months, we’ve been charting a new course for us travelling as a family.

The first step was for Albert and I to TRULY accept the fact that we could no longer travel in the same way we did as individuals; we adjusted our expectations of the amount and type of activities we could do. Adjusting our expectations translated almost instantly to greater satisfaction. But, adjusting expectations didn’t mean giving up everything.

The second step was for us to be better at planning and prioritizing for trips.  For our recent trip to Stockholm, for example, Albert and I both wanted to see the Stadhuset (where the Nobel Prize banquet is held) and the Vasa Museum (where a stunning ship, sunk in the 1600s and raised in the 1990s, is shown). I also wanted to take a ferry around the Archipelago, while Albert wanted to see the Royal Palace and the changing of the guard.  Researching and prioritizing isn’t just about what Albert and I want to do, though; we are also careful to research if there are playgrounds near what we want to see/do and attractions that are more appealing to children. For example, in the process of researching Stockholm, we learned about Skansen (the world’s first open-air museum cum zoo, petting zoo and children’s museum). One parent blogger called it a “must see” for parents with children, so we added it to our list of priorities.  Finally, we make a short list of things we’d like to do ONLY if we have time and if things are going well.  For Stockholm, these optional activities were to check out the shops in the Old Town, Junibacken (a children’s museum dedicated to the Swedish author of Pippi Longstocking and other tales), the Nobel Museum and the Photography Museum.  We ended up being able to briefly do the first two activities but not the rest.

The third step, and this one was really important, was to learn how to better recognize the clues Kahlilah and each other give as to when we need to “adjust fire” during the trip itself. This can mean recognizing when Kahlilah is hungry and/or tired and/or restless and we need to stop what we’re doing and get her fed/rested/exercised. This can mean recognizing when one of us is tired and losing patience and the other needs to “take the reins” dealing with Kahlilah. This can mean recognizing when it’s best that we take turns visiting a site, so that the person visiting the site can actually enjoy it and not be worrying constantly about Kahlilah breaking something/talking during a tour/having a tantrum and Kahlilah can enjoy some down time and not have unrealistic expectations placed on her (e.g., I saw the Royal Apartments at the Stockholm Palace, while Albert let Kahlilah run around outside and then I watched her while Albert saw the Palace’s Treasury and Museum of Antiquities). And, this can mean recognizing when something just isn’t working out (e.g., when we went to Stockholm’s Old Town and Kahlilah was having none of the shops) and we need to switch activities (in that case, we went on a boat ride and then Skansen so that Kahlilah could run around for awhile).

And, the fourth step was to learn to appreciate things that we were doing (and not doing) that we wouldn’t have if we were travelling as individuals or as a couple.  A good example of this was visiting Skansen. Albert and I probably would have gone to the Nobel Museum and the Photography Museum if we were there by ourselves, but I am SO glad we went to Skansen. It is such a treasure. We went there for Kahlilah, but I think Albert and I got just as much out of it as Kahlilah did.  Furthermore, travelling with a child slows us down. And, that’s not a bad thing. (Heck, we’re a couple that overscheduled our honeymoon!) The time that Albert and I get to sit on a park bench while Kahlilah plays is precious—after all, it gives us time to relax and appreciate the trip.

What DOESN’T make me happy about Amsterdam?

It’s been MONTHS since I blogged last, but the next topic for the Foreign Service Blog Roundup has given me a shot of motivation to write again.  The topic: something that makes you happy at your current posting.

For me, it’d probably be easier to answer what DOESN’T make me happy about Amsterdam. And I’m being completely serious…as you can see from the blog posts I wrote during our first six months here, particularly the post A Day in the Life.  The museums! The parks!!  The quaintness!!! The food!!!! The opportunities to travel all over Europe!!!!!

But, now that we’re approaching one year at post, let me see if I can find something a little more thoughtful to say. I think what makes me so happy living in Amsterdam is that you can breathe here. I don’t mean literally (although the air quality is good, which is something I’m coming to appreciate more and more as we’re researching possible next posts); I mean that the pace and the quality of life in Amsterdam is so good that you feel calm and content much of the time. If you, like me, were living in a critical-crime threat post, you can appreciate how calm can bring such happiness.

Take, for example, my daily bike ride to drop off Kahlilah at school.  First, I’m riding a bike. On nice roads. With dedicated bike lanes and bike lights. Getting a workout (but not too much of a workout, considering how nice and flat the Netherlands is).  Getting some sun (and often some rain).  Other than for my time living in Davis, California, which–before becoming known for pepper-spraying cops–was known for being one of the most bike-friendly places in the USA…I have never lived in a place where people are so healthy and so supportive of public and alternative means of transportation. Besides, if the most you can do if someone cuts you off is to ring your bell, somehow the “morning commute” is so much more enjoyable.  I never thought I’d be a bike person, but I’m becoming one here! Second, I ride through a beautiful tree-covered neighbourhood with local shops that have been there for 20 years (the gourmet grocery/deli), 50 years (the bread shop), 100 years (the chocolate/sweet shop).  I can easily stop on my way to or from the school to buy any number of good eats, drop off our dry cleaning, buy some hardware supplies, pick up my prescription, buy an English-language book, and stop by “my” friendly cheeseman to pick up some gouda on his recommendation. Everything is nearby and, since we decided to “go Dutch” and bought a cargo bike, I can simply load my purchases into the bike—with room enough left for Kahlilah.  Third, we ride along canals.  There’s something about being near the water that quiets the mind and canals, in particular, have such charm. Each has its own character.  And, they’re so quiet.  The most you’ll hear is the gentle lap against boats’ sides when another boat passes by. During the summer, you see scores of Dutch out enjoying the afternoon in their boats. During the winter, if you’re lucky, you’ll see an equal number of Dutch out ice skating.  The canals are quite simply, lovely.

So, if you EVER get the chance to travel to or live in Amsterdam, don’t pause…don’t hesitate…GRAB the opportunity and squeeze every last ounce of wonderful out of the experience you can.

Post script: I realized that I never did say what doesn’t make me happy about Amsterdam.  The only thing I can come up with is that tram and bus drivers can often be pretty rude and won’t stop for you if you arrive at the stop even 10 seconds late.  But, really, I think that stems from them being so schedule oriented…so that brings me back to one of the pros: a reliable public transportation system.  See?  There’s really nothing I don’t like about this place.

Feature Foreign Food: Stampot

For this post featuring a foreign food I’m back to writing about the savory, rather than the sweet: stamppot.

Stamppot (literally, “mash pot”) is a typical winter dish in both the Netherlands and Belgium and is basically potatoes mashed with one or more vegetables.  I know, it doesn’t sound that foreign. But, what I find brilliant about stamppot–and a unique take compared to our typical mashed potatoes in the US–is the vegetables they mix the potatoes with:   endive, cabbage, kale, spinach and turnip greens are all traditional pairings.  I’ve been trying to add these superfoods to my family’s dinner table for the past year or so, without much success.  Albert and Kahlilah tolerated crispy kale, but didn’t ask for seconds.  In contrast, I bought kale stamppot from our local grocery store last week and it was gone before I knew it.  Mainly, you taste the potatoes–who doesn’t like mashed potatoes after all?–so the vegetables are mostly forgotten.  Why this approach to getting your kids (and occasionally husbands) to eat their vegetables hasn’t spread to parents outside the Benelux countries, I do not know.  Genius.

To prepare stamppot, you can either cook the potatoes and vegetables separately and then combine them in order to mash them altogether with milk, butter, salt and pepper or you can just cook them together in the same pot before mashing them.  Traditionally, meat often accompanies stamppot; bacon can be mixed in, sausage served on the side, or gravy poured over.  Since I’m vegetarian and the sole cook in the house, though, I passed on the meat portion of the meal…but was perfectly satisfied with my simple stamppot, my new go-to comfort food.

Kahlilah en Zo*

I realize it’s been awhile since I updated you on Kahlilah, so I better get to it… Where to start? I think I’ll start with the word “independence.” This girl is really spreading her wings, and testing the limits of her parents’ patience at the same time.

She loves her bilingual Dutch-English Montessori school, which she’s been attending in the 0-3.5-year-old age group since mid-November.  Since she had never attended a daycare in Venezuela or in Washington DC, we were a bit worried how she’d adapt to being away from us and to interacting with other children.  We needn’t have worried. She jumped in without pause!  She actually is doing so well that we’ve agreed with the teachers’ recommendations to move her to the next age group (3.5-6 years) a bit early.  We met with them last week, and this is what they reported: she is very eager to learn, asking questions and persisting when a task is difficult; she speaks in complete and increasingly complex sentences in English, while also understanding a lot of Dutch without reproducing it yet herself; she follows instructions and can listen to stories for quite long stretches of time;  she is very independent and self-sufficient, able to easily dress herself although not yet committed to always using the potty; she interacts well with the teachers and the other students, constantly talking about “my friends”; she has superb fine motor skills, excelling in doing puzzles and measuring things for the school’s cooking sessions; she can count in English, Dutch and Spanish and she is learning the days of the week, although often confusing their order. As a result of all this, they feel that she is ready to move to the next group where she will have some more challenging activities and older children to interact with.  Another benefit of the older group is that, as of yet, it’s still not full (actually far from it) so the student: teacher is great.  All in all, we are super happy with the school and with how Kahlilah is doing there.

Major emphasis within the Montessori approach is placed on independence, and boy are we seeing the effects.  Most effects are very welcome.  Kahlilah can do a lot on her own now, which is great for her and great for us.  However, she basically wants to do EVERYTHING on her own now – not yet recognizing which things are within her power to do and which are not.  As a result, everything has become a battle.  Getting dressed when she needs to, putting on coat and mittens, getting into the bicycle to go to school, putting on her seatbelt to go to school, and on and on.  Counting to 1 and talking about consequences has had no effect. Basically the only way I’ve shut down full-scale tantrums is to walk away.  Sometimes by the time I come back (30 seconds to a minute later), she has settled down and will let me help her.  Sometimes I have to walk away again.  And again.   This trend certainly tested our limits when we were on vacation to England last week (check out the photos by following the Flickr link to the right).  During one tantrum, she laid full out on the floor of an Underground (Tube) station. One thing I have to say about parenthood is that it strips you of any sense of public shame.  People stared.  People probably talked.  But, what was I to do?  I had to be a parent.

But, let’s not end on that note.  Please check out the video at this link – I love it because it shows so many aspects of Kahlilah right now: her independence, her interest in talking/singing/chanting, her facial expressions.  For those who don’t speak Spanish, the video shows Albert, Kahlilah and I practicing a Chilean chant used at sporting events as well as a similar chant for the USA.   Enjoy!

*En Zo roughly translates to “and such” in Dutch. There are so many stores here that use that phrase in their name; there’s Kaas en Zo (Cheese and Such), Haar en Zo (Hair and Such), Vis en Zo (Fish and Such), and so on…er, I mean, en zo.

Feature Foreign Food (and Word): Hagelslag…Lekker!

Believe it or not, my last post featuring the very foreign (practically alien) cauliflower-like vegetable Romanesco didn’t draw in the readers. Okay, alright.  I can understand that. If I couldn’t get my husband and daughter to be that excited about eating a strange vegetable, I guess I should have assumed it would be difficult to entice people to read about it.  So, this post, I’m going with CHOCOLATE.

Ah, chocolate.  Some many ways to enjoy you.  I have to admit that, normally, I may be a bit high-brow in my choice of chocolate.  I blame my mother.  Her truffles set such a high bar that I feel a responsibility to try truffles where ever I go, if only to prove that–yes–mama knows and does best.  But, here in the Netherlands, hagelslag lets me enjoy chocolate like a kid.

Hagelslag are basically chocolate sprinkles, or jimmies as some people call them.  Not so foreign, perhaps, but in this case it’s not the food that is foreign but rather the use of it.  Rather than sprinkling it on top of ice cream as Americans do, the Dutch–adults and children alike–eat it on top of bread and butter, sometimes even making a sandwich of it, for breakfast and often for lunch!(This delectable photo is from the blog The Eaten Path, which also has a great post on this phenomena.)

Hagelslag, which in Dutch is based on the word for “hail”, comes in many different flavors and colors. In particular, the blue or pink ones are used upon the birth of a child. It also comes in different price points, as they say: there’s both cheap hagelslag and high-quality hagelslag.  For example, I learned online that “only hagelslag with a cacao percentage of more than 35 can bear the name chocolat hagelslag. If the percentage is under the 35%, it has to be called cacao fantasy hagelslag.”  Cacao fantasy?  Hilarious. So, when I tried it, I went for a good brand in a dark chocolate version.  I also followed recommendations and used white bread as the base (why, really, try to convince yourself that this is anything but dessert by using whole-wheat?), toasted and buttered it, and ate it immediately after the hagelslag had just slightly melted.  And, the verdict?

Lekker!!!  ”Lekker” means “delicious” in Dutch and I really can’t think of another word in any language that more perfectly sounds like it should mean delicious.  Take a second and say it out loud:  ˈlɛ.kər.  Doesn’t it have a nice smacking feel?  When I first learned the word lekker in the Fast Dutch course I took before moving here, I immediately loved it.  To me, words like lekker seem like they should be universal–should cross languages and cultures–because how they feel in your mouth when you say them or how they sound in your ear when you hear them bring to mind their meaning exactly.  Another word I’ve come across like this is “kwan.” It’s a word used in a number of Filipino languages and it means “thing” and particularly something that you may have temporarily forgotten.  So, in English, it might better translate as “whatchamacallit” rather than just “thing.”  In addition you can modify kwan to mean a person’s name that you’ve forgotten, the equivalent of “what’s-his-name.” I love that word!  And, when I was trying to learn Cebuano while living in the Philippines, I REALLY loved it–what’s not like to like about a word that let’s you cover up that you don’t remember vocabulary you should have learned already while at the same time sounding like a local?!?  (Have you come across any words that you’ve loved precisely because they sound/feel like what they mean? If so, please post in the Comments–I’d love to learn more.)

So, there you have it folks, lekkere hagelslag – this month’s feature foreign food.  I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed “researching” it.