Rotterdam

The landscape of the Netherlands is soothing in a pastoral sort of way. There are no dramatic vistas to excite the senses. Dutch skies are often overcast, softening hard lines. Only yesterday evening did sunshine break through and paint a glow on Amsterdam.


I was on my way to my cousin's place in Rotterdam to catch up with his family. The stations on the line seemed to be suffering neglect, although the trains almost ran to schedule. I had heard mutterings here and there that NS used to be better. No doubt suffering from that economic malady of our times: rationalisation.

My cousin and his family met me at the station and took me to Chinese yum cha which was quite good. Inevitably the conversation got around to what it was like to be non-Dutch born living in the Netherlands. He told me that the language requirements for reunion immigrations had been tightened in recent years. In my short stay, I had sensed a drift away from the renowned Dutch tolerance and a rising undercurrent of sentiment that the Netherlands should be for the Dutch, or at least, for Dutch speakers. I fancied that I once caught a fleeting look on the face of a telephone employee who stopped me for directions that said, oh no, not another immigrant who doesn't speak Dutch. Perhaps the Dutch, being some the most international of Europeans, were susceptible, or perceived themselves susceptible, to globalisation and homogenisation, and this has uncovered latent insecurities. Questions on TV quiz shows emphasized Dutchness. Foreign born faces seemed underrepresented in Dutch TV even though they constituted over 5% of the populace. I also heard expressions of irritation from Dutch people with various rules for living in Dutch society. Did they feel that the Netherlands was turning into a nanny state?


The photo is of the Erasmus Bridge.

After lunch we drove to Scheveningen which has a long strand reminiscent of Zandvoort or Oostende. The imposing building in the photo is the Kurhaus. Scheveningen is also a well-known test that you have mastered Dutch pronounciation. You have to say it exhaling mildly without getting saliva on your listener.

It was a fine day and the promenade and pier (shown in the photo) were very crowded. As we were driving out of the car park, a Dutch couple in an adjoining car was chuffed to hear my cousin's grandchildren singing a Dutch children's song.


One of the duties my cousin had undertaken in his retirement was represent the Chinese community to the government. He said that there was a problem with a rule that Dutch Chinese pensioners could miss out on their pension if they left the country for more than 6 weeks in a year.


One intriguing public service poster I saw in the city said beware of fake policemen. My cousin said yes, there had been cases of victims being conned by impostors.