"Friday Fails" NOW "Friday Foto Fun"

Last Friday I thought about beginning a weekly series called "Friday Fails" where I would feature aspects of our "Fail Days" from the week.  However, my intent was not to create a "whoa is me" series.  I didn't want to ruin your weekends. But instead I was hoping it would turn into a way to share experiences with others in an attempt that they could learn from our mistakes.

Well, I'm happy/sad to report that Vicki & I had a pretty good week here in the Netherlands so I don't have any material for a "Friday Fails" post. Instead let me say this week was filled with some fun firsts: our first Holland Flower Show & my first bike ride. I was also presented a great opportunity to volunteer with an expat website in a few weeks. In addition, Vicki and I are very excited about our upcoming adventure to Rome next week where we get to catch up with a good friend.  Fingers crossed we'll see some white smoke.  Even if we don't it will be wonderful to be in Rome to experience the excitement around the Conclave.  

I hope you all had a fantastic week too.  If not, I hope this picture can make you laugh.  Cheers to the weekend friends!

"Dutch or Polish, NO ENGLISH!"

It's Valentine's Day in the Netherlands!  Wait, do they celebrate that here?  Yes they do.  Although, it's just starting to become a "thing."  You can tell that this "holiday" is  infiltrating the culture by the displays of heart shaped candy at the HEMA and the gigantic red and white balloon arch over the entrance to Bakker Bart.  

Now Vicki and I usually spend Valentine's Day at home, cooking a fun dinner or indulging in some Chick Fil A sandwiches, that was last year's V-Day.  Not to break from tradition, I volunteered to plan something for tonight.  So here's today's adventure.

Translation: Polish Shop in Eve?

A few weeks ago I found a Polish grocery store in our town.  It had all your staples: pierogi, kielbasa, goomkie, Żywiec, and even Polish sparking wine!  What better way to treat my Polish Princess on Valentine's day than with some Polish delicacies.  Nothing says I love you like (some one else's) home made pierogis right?

Well, snow was predicted today from about noon until early evening.  So I figured I'd try to do the food shopping early. I got to the store about 11:00; I was so excited to practice one of the three Polish phrases I knew, "Dzień Dobry." But my heart sank when I saw no lights and drawn shades.  However, all was not lost, turns out the store opens at 1:00pm.  I returned home dejected so I did some laundry to help ease the pain.  Then at 1:15pm my search for pieorgi and kielbasa continued.  

Things were going well, grabbed a bottle of Polish bubbly, had a pack of kapusta & mushroom pierogis under my arm, now all I needed was the kielbasa, this was the fun part. I stood patiently waiting to be noticed by the lady behind the counter, but she was heavily engrossed in a conversation another lady.  There was NO WAY I was breaking up a conversation between two Polish ladies.  Finally their stories concluded and all eyes were on the American in the Phillies hat with a pack of pieorgis.  

It was go time, but my mind went blank and all I could utter was, "Sorry, I don't speak Dutch." Then the woman behind the counter, said something in Polish, to which I responded, "Sorry I don't speak Polish either."  I could see a scowl beginning to form on her face.  "Okay, be cool Dan, you got this, just say 'kielbasa'."  So I tried to ask if any of the kielbasa were smoked, she then rattled off something else in Polish that ended with no English. I was stunned, like a deer in headlights.  I was starting to sweat.  I then said, to her with a smile, "Which one is your favorite?"  She replied, even louder this time, "Dutch or Polish, NO ENGLISH!"  "Uhhhhhhhh, that one," I pointed at two indiscernible links and raised two fingers, "Two of that one."  

She then bagged up the meats and rang up my other purchases. At this point, I figured let me drop some of my limited Polish on her, "Dzien Dobry?" I said, she looks, smiles and says, "Dzien Dobry." Feeling confident now, as she handed me my items, I exclaim "dziękuję!"I get another smile and a nod.  I think I'm allowed back!

Here are the fruits of my labor today. Szczęśliwych Walentynek! (Happy Valentine's Day!)

I tried to make it look like a heart.  

Photo Credit @VickiZ19

The International Sign for Wine

"A bottle of red, a bottle of white 

Whatever kind of mood you're in tonight 

I'll meet you anytime you want In our Italian Restaurant. "

--Scenes from an Italian Restaurant, Billy Joel--

Yes, that's a chianti bottle candle stick holder

Well, it was more like a 1/2 liter of "rood" and a 1/2 liter of "wit" for my wife and I last night. That's what we ordered from our Italian waiter in "our Italian Restaurant" in the Netherlands. But our wine selections from last evening is not the interesting part, it's how we came about ordering them.

How you say....."carafe of wine" 
Photo Credit: Vicki Szostek

I got the sense that our waiter's comprehension of English was a bit shaky. Mix that with our inability to speak Italian or Dutch and you get a blog post.  When it came time to place our drink order we both tried ordering "a carafe" of wine.  We saw the puzzlement on our waiters face at first, then collectively my wife and I use our hands and make some type of gesture that in our minds was symbolic of a carafe.  Our hand motions must have worked, the confused glaze disappeared from his face and he asked us if we wanted a 1/2 liter or 1 liter of wine.  ALL RIGHT WE'RE IN BUSINESS!  Here comes my favorite part.  When we told him what kind of wine we wanted he was still a bit unsure, so just to confirm our selections with us, he pointed to the red table cloth and pointed to me, then he pointed to the white table cloth and pointed to my wife.  It was awesome.  

It got me thinking about communication and how when verbal means are not an option, we quickly adapt to find some type of non-verbal method to convey our message.  In our case, making a hand gesture where by placing our right hand about 8 inches about our left hands is obviously the international sign for a carafe of wine. And in the case of our waiter, pointing to the colors of the table cloth helped him confirm our order.

I've caught myself a few times since moving to the Netherlands making funny hand gestures when I sense the other person isn't grasping what I was saying.  Like the other night, when I asked the waitress for a jug of water, I made a similar hand motion to the one carafe of wine.  It's not often that I let my hands do the talking  because most folks we've encountered have an excellent grasp of English, but when it does happen I wish I could video myself to see how funny I look.  

Have you ever found yourself making (clean) hand gestures to communicate?  

Adventures in Irish & Dutch Laundry

Laundry.  It's a love hate relationship.  

We love the scent and crispness of a freshly cleaned load .

We hate separating lights & darks, and figuring out the difference between delicates & permanent press

We love it when it's warm right out the dryer or straight off the sun kissed clothesline. 

We hate folding, no we really hate folding.

We also hate it when it does this....

Adventures in Irish Laundry: Take #1

My first adventures in laundry began in college, where I learned that wool sweaters are powerless against dryers.  Once I was married, I assumed the role of launderer, not sure how exactly, just happened.  Naturally I carried my laundry responsibilities with me as my wife and I set out on our expat adventures, first in Ireland, now in the Netherlands.  

It's a simple process really.  Add clothes, add water, add soap and let the machine work it's magic.  Then take out clothes and but into the other machine to dry and boom, done.  But you see that second part about putting the clothes into another machine, well, that wasn't an option in our home in Ireland.  My wife and I assumed the property had one of those washer/dryer combo units, which apparently exist.  It wasn't until our walk through of the property that we realized the only function that this machine in OUR KITCHEN was to wash, not dry.

I loved my wife's question to the relocation agent.  "Well, how do we dry clothes in a place where it rains all the time?"  She then explained the "hot press" concept to us.  There was a closet or press, upstairs where the hot water pipes ran.  This was your hot press, and this is how you dried clothes.  Worked like a charm if you didn't need your jeans for about a week.    So I had to resort to stringing our clothes up on the line outside.  But you know that Irish weather.

Eventually I got the hang of things in Ireland.  Who knew that door jams and light fixtures made for great locations to hang drying clothes.  But the one thing I just could never get right was the washer.  Well, as a cousin of mine said, in response to this pic.  "Just grab a mop. 2 problems solved!"

"Just grab a mop. 2 problems solved!"

Flash forward to present day life in the Netherlands. The first question I asked before moving: " Does the apartment have a dryer?"  Well, it certainly does, BUT, I'm now faced with a whole new set of challenges, Dutch instructions.  Not only on the bottles of detergent but also on the machines (so I thought).  

So can you picture this? Me is a confined laundry room where the door closes behind you staring blankly at a washer & dryer.  I then grab a bottle of detergent and take out my iPhone. With the help of Google Translate I discover the purple label is for colors and the green is for active wear?
I don't know, I've just been using the purple bottle and crossing my fingers.  White technically is a color right?

Then I come to the challenge of actually using these machines.

Uh.........Goggle, little help?  So I try to translate "VAR PUUVILLA" from Dutch to English and I get, "VAR PUUVILLA." Son of a......  I try it again, maybe I missed spelled it.  Same thing "VAR PUUVILLA."  Then I think, this is Dutch right?  WRONG!  Turns out the machines speak Finnish.  At least that's the language Google detected.  So here's an English speaking American, living in a Dutch speaking country doing laundry with machines that speak Finnish.  What a world.  

Okay, I've figured out the Dutch detergent and the Finnish instructions but the one thing I simply CANNOT figure out is why it takes SO long to both wash and dry a load?  Yeah, that screen reads 1 HOUR and 25 minutes. 

Today, after 50 minutes in the dryer my clothes were still damp.  At this point I was ready to mail them to Ireland to dry.  But I could tell something was wrong.  I would set the timer then the dryer would shut off after a minute.  So,  I look closer at the screen then say to myself out loud "What the hell is 'BAC PLEIN'?"  GOOOOOGLE, HELP!  So I turn to my iPhone, translate "BAC PLEIN" from Finnish into English and get "BAC PLEIN" Son of a......  Alright Google, you tell me what language this is; it detected French.  So "BAC PLEIN" means "TANK FULL."  Oh, that clears things up.  WHERE THE HELL IS THE TANK!!  Luckily the owner of the apartment was around this afternoon and I inquired about the problem.  Turns out there is a tray that fills up with water and needs to be emptied.  I did not know that.  Alright, so I think I am finally prepared to do a load of laundry here in the Netherlands with my Finnish washer and my French dryer.  Am I right?  I shouldn't expect anymore surprises right?  That Irish hot press is looking really good right now.

Do you have any expat laundry stories to share?    Please tell me I'm not alone.  Thanks!

Little Things, Big Victories For This Expat.

Paying for groceries with a debit card for most is a trivial task, but to an expat making their first successful purchase with their new bank card, well, that's an indescribable feeling of euphoria my friends.  

Here's how it goes, you confidently place your debit card (chip down) in the chip machine (no swipe cards here) and the card reader says something in Dutch, but you recognize enter PIN #, then another message in Dutch appears, and it seems like the transcation will be approved. So as you stand there, palms beginning to sweat, you wait to see the cashier's reaction.  Your heart starts pounding because the line behind you continues to grow with Dutch shoppers.  Finally, the cashier utters words to you that by now you've understood to mean "Do you want a receipt?"  You nod your head and say "Yes", take the receipt/ontvangst and say "Dank u wel," puff out your chest, give your fellow shoppers behind you a confident glance and proceed walk... no, more like STRUT out of the super market.  

You've arrived expat, job well done.  

Yes, to the casual observation, I may have looked as though I had an extra spring in my step today on my daily walk home from the Albert Heijn.  You can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a shopper man, no time to talk.  (5 February 2013)

RESIDENT PERMITS & ATM CARDS & PRINGLES.

Vicki and I had a lunch date at the City Hotel in Oss today to celebrate successfully reapplying for our resident permits and the arrival of our bank ATM cards (again.)

So we’re in an apartment that doesn’t have a mailbox?!?  But, we’re able to forward our mail to the City Hotel, which owns and operates our apartment.  We opened the account during our first week, Jan 17th to be exact.  It was odd that we still had not received the cards.  So earlier this week I got in touch with the bank to discover that the cards were mailed to the City Hotel, according to plan.  Well?  Turns out, whoever got the mail that day called the bank and said that there were no guests by that name at the hotel and therefore destroyed the cards.  Great! At least that’s the story the bank gives.

When I learned of the destruction of our cards and our hopes of using the debit card lane of the Albert Heijn (grocery store) I marched to the City Hotel to find out what happened.  I was ensured there that it was noted to hold our mail upon receipt.  Now who do we believe? Long story longer, I had to go to the bank and order another round of cards, which were successfully delivered today.

Oh, and the resident permit has its own share of frustrations.  I mentioned that we had to reapply, since our first visit was unsuccessful.  We were told given the length of our stay we did not need to register.  Not entirely true.  There’s a bunch of legal and bureaucratic hoops here so I won’t bore you with these details.  Fingers crossed we’ll be approved this time and we can get on with our lives.

Best part of today?  The Paprika Pringles that accompanied my sandwich from the City Hotel.  Cheers to the weekend! (31 January 2013)

TAKE YOUR HUSBAND TO WORK DAY!

Intercultural Training for Expatriates Day.  On Friday, January 25th Vicki and I participated in a Culture Orientation provided by her company.  It was a one day crash course in everything Dutch.  We had participated in one of these sessions back in June when we moved to Ireland (yes, surprisingly there were some cultural differences among the Irish that we discovered).  Both training sessions, were extremely helpful and fun.

Vicki and I had done a little homework before we left for the Netherlands because we figured the cultural gap would be a bit larger than in Ireland.  We picked up a book called “The UnDutchables,” which has been a fun read with some useful information.  I’ve also been immersing myself in every Expat Blog and other Expat sites for the Netherlands.  One of my favorite blogs is “Stuff Dutch People Like.”  

At the end of the training day, we walked away with A TON of resources and lots of useful information.  Too much for one post.  But there were two big takeaways for me.

“doe maar gewoon”or “be normal”  I can do that, I can learn how. It’s an interesting mantra. My take on it is, just be cool, don’t brag about stuff and contribute to the greater good.  Parts of this may seem a bit foreign to  folks back in the States.  For instance, you will NEVER see a car with a “My Child is an Honor Student at XYZ School,” here in the Netherlands, it’s not common to boast about success.  Even in the workplace, you would never see an “Employee of the Month” plaque other types of recognition.  If you work hard then everyone succeeds, individual performance is not recognized.  For any Dutch readers, how did I do with this explanation?  Let me know.  Thanks.

The second takeaway from the day, the Dutch do not wear 180s. In case you don’t know about 180s, they’re like ear muffs for guys (& I guess girls too) but they fit around the back of your head, not the top.  They keep your ears warm, and I have sensitive ears, so I like them.  Vicki makes fun of me for them.  If you watch my “Klunen 2013 DannyZ Style”  you’ll see me sporting my 180s.  I’m also wearing them in the above picture.  

#SAHH (Stay At Home Husband)

I’ve heard ‘em all by now, “house husband,” “kept man,” “stay at home husband,” so if you got a new one I’d love to hear it.  For the time being let’s just go with “stay at home husband.” (#SAHH)  

My former company went through layoffs over a year ago; since I wasn’t working, my wife, Vicki, accepted a temporary work assignment for six months in Ireland last March; we moved to Ireland in May; Vicki was asked to consider another international temporary assignment in the Netherlands in October; we moved back to the States in November; Vicki was offered Netherlands position in November; we moved to Oss, Netherlands in January.  There’s our story in a nut shell.  

I’m not going to lie living the SAHH life has it’s moments but there are some dark days too.  Coping with the fact that I’ve been out of work for one year & four months (but who’s counting) does weigh on my brain.  But I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a huge thanks to my wife, Vicki for her love and support (and for dragging her “deadbeat husband across Europe.”)  

While we were in Ireland, spouse’s could not be granted a working permit easily so I joked that I worked for the Irish Tourism Dept.  Since my wife and I planned activities and hosted 14 friends and family in Ireland over the course of the summer.  My new home became TripAdvisor, spending hours researching and later reviewing our travel experiences.  Speaking of travel, my wife and I worked very hard at filling up our passports, visiting 9 (10 inc Ireland) countries throughout Europe.  Something would not have been conceivable if I had not been a SAHH. 

The move to the Netherlands presents some new opportunities for this SAHH, work? school? professional blogger?  We’ll see; stay tuned.  

Thanks for reading my rants.