Back to Reality - Back to Work

It's been awhile, oh dear blog and faithful readers. I guess that is what happens when you return to the working life. Oh how I forgot thee?!

The lack of stories for 7 months is coincidently the amount of time I have been employed in Holland. Oh where to begin... why not with what consumes 80% of my day, WORK! I was anxious to begin working in a new country and experiencing the new working culture. I love the competitiveness of the American worklife, however not feeling the pressure of working 60+ hours per week didn't sound half bad.

For the first time in my working life (11 yrs), I received a contract upon my employment. There was a 1 month probationary period, but once that was complete, I had the job (or at least the salary) for 1 year! At first, I felt weight lift from my shoulders and empowered. Then after the "honeymoon phase", I focused on the END date of my contract. I truly believe that the unknown is the most difficult state to live in; however, I do not deal well with END dates either (unless self-provoked). This doesn't mean that they will not renew my contract and as so, company policy states new employees must begin with temporary contracts (1-2 yrs).

Dutch work life is very different from my old ways. Lets chat about transportation for starters. Rather than fighting traffic in the city for a 4hr roundtrip commute, Now I only worry whether the rain will flatten my hair. That is because I ride my bike to work (10 min commute time).

I will admit that for the first 2 weeks, I was more stressed over the ride to and from work than performing at my job. Oh its been awhile and well, never, for riding a bike to work with a pencil skirt on and abiding by Dutch bike protocols. There were many failed attempts crossing the street. What I mean by that, is from the time the bike light turned green, I was unable to get enough momentum or proper start to cycle to the other side. I have never felt more eyes on me in all my life! I attempted to make it look like my failure to cross the street was due by a rude interruption from my cell phone... which was in my purse placed in the bike bag behind me. This required me to get off my bike (hence never leave point A) and speak to the ghost caller. Yah, at the time, that is what got me through my dramatic experience. We all cope in different ways.

I was now contributing to the Dutch economy as a new member of the workforce, but more tragically, I was a threat to the community (on a bike).

6 months later, bringing us to the present day, I am confident with my new indefinite work contract and more importantly, I am confident on the road. I am passing people and running red lights; all in one try!

An Amsterdamian New Year's Eve

Going back into time is not so easy. Regretfully, it has been over 2 months since my last blog. However, I do not want to leave out important and memorable events in January and February. So let's start with January 1....

I was happy when Wietse told me that our New Year's Eve plans would take place in Amsterdam. His friends were hosting a party located near the Nieuwmarkt (location of the grandest firework display in Amsterdam).
Finding the right outfit was challenging without girlfriends and not knowing the Dutch NYE dress code. After much research (shopping in different stores and asking around), I learned that NYE is more lowkey in Holland. Drink, party, have fun, but no big arrangements with banquet halls, no silly hats, no streamers, etc. This was fine with me (except I did miss the hats and tiara's). In my opinion NYE is overpriced and overplayed. However, ringing in the New year in my New country was something not to dismiss.

I was glad I brought backup shoes (3 pairs) after walking in stiletto heels on the cobblestone streets of Amsterdam. Switched to flats. Upon arrival of the leaning historic home sitting on the canal bank (now transformed into a frat house); I arranged shoe change #3- Black leather flat boots. It was much cleaner than the fraternity houses I knew, but still a fraternity house. As well, i was the only girl for the first 3 hours.

As mentioned before, fraternities are different in Europe. I dont know how to explain it without giving an example. The fraternity boys (Wietse's friends) served homemade sushi. Um yah, delicious, but not something to expect a bunch of frat guys eating while sitting around and drinking.

The beer kegs were flowing and I was trying to keep pace with a bunch of college boys. Fatal. The conversations became easier as the drinks were flowing. By the end of the night I was fluent in the "party" Dutch language.

All 30 or more of us walked to the Nieuwmarkt square at 11:30 ready to bring in the New Year with thousands of others in the chinese neighborhood. The background was absolutley gorgeous with a little castle and mote. The fireworks were out of control and lasted for hours. People were out of control; climbing street signs, lighting smoke bombs, jumping on cars, peeing in the canal, bubbly champagne everywhere, singing, chanting....the works. At this point, I was satisfied. Then i learned, that the party Just started... Why didnt anyone warn me to pace myself?!?! Many girls and others were recruited to the party. I was still hanging with the boys. For some reason I felt the need to not only do shots with the boyz, but then to instigate them and have drinking contests. As loyal as I was to the boyz, I had more American pride than I can ever remember. Dont know where, But i happened to find an American flag, which became a new piece of my outfit (a cape). No One was allowed to touch it, as I was the Only American in the room and damn proud of it! According to Wietse, my confidence level was at an all time high once that flag was on my back. I had no shame in quoting "The Hangover" quotes to cops, going beyond the Do not Enter zone of the house (I had my own personal bathroom), and being the life of the Party. Whether it was the American flag that gave me my Super Confidence or just a matter of time for the shots and beer to catch up, it doesnt matter, because I DID hav the time of my life. Ready or not, 2010 Here i Come!
The afternoon of January 1, not so much.

Sinterklaas Day

The Dutch celebrate a holiday called Sinterklaas Day on 12/05. This holiday has nothing to do with Christmas, even though Sinterklaas resembles a skinny Santa. When asking Dutchmen the story behind the holiday, you will find many variations of the holiday origin and answers like, "Because thats the way it is". Here is how I understand it.

Sinterklaas lives in Spain. Why? Well, this is where you begin to receive creative answers... But then again, who wouldnt wan to live in warm beautiful Spain?! During the year, Sinterklaas and his helper, Black Pete record the behaviour of the children and prepare the presents. During the first weeks of November (when the festivities begin), Sinterklaas gets on his big white horse, bringing along his black Pete's and boards a steamship to the Netherlands. So mid November, each city has their "arrival of Sinterklaas". There are parades and many big celebrations as you wave to Sinterklaas travelling through the canals of Holland. Once he has arrived, children begin to put their shoes out at night leaving water and food for Sinterklaas and his horse. In return, they receive chocolate letters (of their initials), kruidnoten (gingerbread candies), and other typical Sinterklaas candies. Since it was my First Sinterklaas Day, he was kind enough to allow a 25 year old participate. I received a Chocolate JP, chocolate Euros, kruidnoten, and Burberry perfume (not standard, but Ill take it!)

The official Holiday celebration is on December 5th. This is the day before Sinterklaas' birthday. They celebrate it a day before; why- well they just do. Each family has their own traditions. One of the popular traditions is to play a version of the "white elephant" game. Wietse's mother hosted a wonderful Sinterklaas party with delicious food, games, treats, and presents. It was great fun! I went home with 0 presents from the game, but Wietse (partner-in-crime) took more than 50%. As well, Sinterklaas sent me my very own Sinterklaas songbook. I must practice before next year.

The holiday sounds very familiar to our Santa Claus traditions. However, it was the Dutch settlers who brought St. Nicholas over to New Amsterdam (New York). Its funny how traditions and stories evolve over time, all over the world!

German Christmas Market in Koln

Christmas festivities have officially begun in Europe. I have always wanted to experience the original German Christmas market firsthand. So on the first Saturday of Advent, Wieste and I travelled to Koln, Germany. Within 10 minutes of departing Holland, we were in Germany. The landscape immediately was transforme into big rolling hills, bigger cars and "Michigan style" roads. Another hour further, we entered the beautiful city of Koln, situated on the Rhine River. I was so excited to travel that I couldn't wipe the grin off of my face.

As we walked up and out of the parking structure, we were already within 1 of the 7 markets: Nome village. It was so exciting and overwhelming at once: New Country, New language, People everywhere, Delicious smells and Christmas music in the distance. It was fun to see Wietse's impression as well. He lives 10 minute away from Germany, but has never been to a German Christmas market. You find this many times with Europeans, but I have a feeling he will become the minority now that he has me!

After we were able to close our mouths full of astonishment, we came up with a game plan. 1.Toilets (Bathroom) 2. Find the Big Cathedral 3. Walk to at least 3 other Markets. The internet said to take the trams from market to market, but Wietse and I felt confident with our Chicago walking feet.

Over a million visitors come from all over the world to this Christmas market. However, I mostly heard the German language. Now that I have been exposed to the Dutch language for 3 months, the German language sounds nothing like Dutch. We made it to the Dom Cathedral as it is very difficult to miss. It is the 2nd tallest Gotchic cathedral in the world. After stumbling upon the church and watching a few street performers, we entered the Christmas market, labeled Most Beautiful in Europe. Remembering from the past and special recommendations, I ordered gluhwein. It is a mulled wine, warmed with spices and other liquors like Brandy and Amaretto. Wow, it warmed me up and made the walk upon cobblestone streets even more wobbly. We sipped on our chocolade and gluhwein in our take-home souvenir mugs, andwalked through the Buden (quaintly designed huts) selling anything from crafts to toys to christmas ornaments.

Throughout the day, we snacked on German traditional foods with Bratwurst being my favorite. We tried weird meat pates, ate gingerbread, had poffertjes, frites, cheese and roasted nuts. We made it to 4 of the 7 markets (Heumarkt, Cologne Cathedral Markt, Neumarkt and Rudolfplatz). Each had their own theme and magical atmosphere. Heumarkt was the Nome village, the Cologne Cathedral's theme was the Church itself, Neumarkt was Angels and Rudolfplatz was a Fairytale theme. I enjoyed the markets most at night, seeing all the lights and decorations illuminated.

We brought home with us less than I expected. Some of the handcrafted items were rather pricey and we found that the experience itself was far greater than any gift. However,we did not leave empty-handed either. We left with some gingerbread treats and nuts, our 4 fancy mugs (each market had their own), a Christmas gift for family and our most prized possession- The Smoking Chef. "Smoking Santa's" are an old German tradition and are quite idyllic. You put the incense inside and the smoke blows out of the pipe of Santa or a Snowman or some other character. We chose a chef with a big mustache.

As much as I loved travelling "10 minutes" to a neighboring country, I was happy to go home. As I relaxed in our small European fiat and pondered about the day in Germany, I was happy to call Holland "home" for the first time.

Mi amore Bella

Wietse and I are proud parents of a brown labrador beauty. We have wanted a dog since living in Chicago. Knowing that we would be moving 3,000 miles away, we thought we should wait until we were in our new homeland.

It has been 2 1/2 months since my arrival in Holland and Wietse could not wait a day longer. We ran out of reasons why we shouldn't get a dog. After Wietse's extensive research and preparation to bring our little one home, we set out on Saturday morning to Cow-land.

We arrived and were pleased to see dog loving people and a nice home. When we came upon the 5 puppies (4 brown girls and 1 black girl), I was overwhelmed with so much excitement, that it froze me. They were all so adorable, but only 2 seemed really interested in Wietse and I. We admired "Bella's" indepedence and constant eye contact. She was fun loving and playful with her sisters, but never took her eyes off Wietse or I. We were sold on those beautiful brown eyes and so excited to bring Bella to her new home and surroundings. Based on the family tree, she is 98% labrador and we think the other; 2% bear. She looks like a little cub bear.

Puppies are the most innocent loving creatures anyone could ask for. And to date, 30 hours later, our 8 week old puppy has not had any accidents in the house. She is a bunde of joy and has already stolen our hearts. However, I do look forward to a full night's rest.

Euro Banking

So this may bore some, but since I am into these kind of things, I thought it would be worth to do a post about European Banking. You would be surprised how different it is from the US. On Friday, I had an appointment to set up my very own Euro account. I was not able to set up an account until I received my tax ID number. And alas, with my Euro account, I could sign up for health insurance and be just a little more Dutch.

ABN Amro it was; as it was still one of the largest banks in Holland I am familiar with. It was fascinating to view the computer screen of our account manager; the old portal I once used when working for LaSalle. The account set-up was far more formal than when Wietse opened his US account. We sat in a big beautiful office with mahogany wood and sipped on our cappuccino as the account manager went through the steps all in English.

From what I was hearing, banking for the consumer is much cheaper than it is in the US. One great finding, in all of Holland, no matter what ATM you use, there are no ATM fees. In fact, ABN Amro expands this across Europe. When I asked to put a deposit into my account, I was told I would have to wait until I received my bank card. There is no such thing as bank tellers and all transactions are done via ATM. As I sat comfortably in my seat thinking how this would affect banks in the US, I wondered if this concept would lose customers. But as I thought further about the long lines I waited in to make a transaction with a teller, I realized that once I was speaking with the teller, the experience was anything but personal. Not to mention, aren't we always in a hurry when we go to the bank? So why not save time and apply those cost-savings to "sans ATM fees"?

I set up a checking and savings account. Savings account are free with no minimum balance. As interest rates are low in Europe and US, I was happy to hear that the savings rate was at a whopping 3%! As well, I was happy to learn that since I have an university degree, I was offerred the "Young Professional Packet" allowing lower fees and better customer service.

Lastly but not least, the most extreme difference I found in European consumer banking is the concept of credit. As Americans, we know the word credit very well. It is a common word even for 18 year olds. However, the perception of credit in Holland is less familar and far less comforting. I first learned of this when I frequent grocery stores and am not only denied the use of credit (I have to use my American Chase bank card as Credit when out of the US), but frowned upon. This happens at grocery stores and gas stations. But even so, if I am at H&M in a big Dutch city (but not known for tourists) and I want to use credit, the experienced employee needs her manager's help to do her First "Credit" transaction. The Dutch people are more familiar with savings than credit. To apply for a credit card in Holland; this is typically done within your Bank. With proof of income, they will find you a card that is directly linked to your bank account. Out of curiosity, I asked what the interest rate was. The account manager replied, "16%, but this doesnt matter as the full amount is swept from your bank account each month, so no interest is applied". My jaw dropped to the desk. You do what? Dutch people only use credit if they have ALL the money in their bank account. Time to time, maybe you do put more on credit, but this is temporary and will soon be paid off with your next paycheck or two.

As you can see, Banking practices in the Netherlands are different in pursuit to match the needs and habits of consumers. Culture plays an important role even in the Banking world.

Language School in Amsterdam

After being silenced for 1 too many days in Holland, I decided that I needed to learn the language at a faster pace. I was on a mission to voice my opinion once again in my new homeland. How can one enjoy themselves without the ability to frequent bars discussing current events? Most people tend to revert back to their native language when discussing these controversial and intriguing topics. Until then, I will feel repressed.

If money were not an issue, I would be at an old convent for 2 weeks in Southern Holland. Its a place where people from all over Europe and the world go, to learn a language within a couple of weeks. It is legitimate and costs 3,000 Euros per week ($4500). The concept of the program is, once you step foot on the grounds, you say goodbye to your native language. If your mind has no choice but to learn something (to survive), then you will learn. Wietse and I chose the more civilized route and implemented 2 hours per day of Dutch speaking.

To nourish my ache for city life again and to localize onself, I signed up for a Dutch course in Amsterdam. At first, I hoped and expected to be placed into the second level with my "Rosetto stone experience". However, the test on the phone proved me wrong. In fact, hindsight proves this to be a favor. When the interviewer asked me in Dutch If I played tennis and was any good, My response was, "Ik ben vies." or I am bad at playing tennis or so I thought.... What it really means is, I am dirty - as dirty in a not so pleasant way; the Girls Gone Wild kind of way. The director of the school felt it was his duty to spare me future embarassment. Beginner 1 was my fate and saviour.

My new school consisted of 6 students cramped in a tiny ''apartment looking'' place in Amsterdam centrum. The first time I walked up the narrow and steep set of stairs with red lights glaring in my eyes, the thought crossed my mind that this wasnt a school after all. haha, the red lights were a joke. But dont worry Mom and Dad, ít was a language school and nothing else. One Brazillian, Mexican, Italian, Indonesian, Irishman, American, Dutch teacher and 8 classes later, we were Beginner 1 graduates.

I did feel I had the advantage. Why; you may ask? No, not because I am a Pica (well I am sure that plays in there somewhere). BUT instead, I had english as my mother language and 2, I had a private tutor that I saw weekly. This is the first time I have felt like the "priveleged student". And damn, it feels lekker (nice)! Speaking 2 hours of Dutch a day, classes in Amsterdam 2 times a week, Wednesday mornings with 1 on 1 tutoring, and 30 labeled sticky notes (placed on objects within the house) later, I am on my way to liberation! Beginner 2 course starts October 27th, Stay tuned.

Before then, my fellow international colleagues and I drank to our new home and language! My class composed of 4 girls; all with Dutch boyfriends and 2 men; seeking free-spirited women. We went to a bar within the neighborhood, which is also a couple steps away from the Ann Frank Huis. We all reminisced about class and shared our stories. It was interesting to hear the Brazilian and Mexican girl talk about how they think the Dutch people work too much. I invited them to America. It was amusing as the tables have turned in the relationship of Wietse and I. I am now the face of a foreigner. I dont know, I still think he plays the role better in his pink underwear. What do you think?!