What a wonderful idea for a thread Melissa! Thank you!
Nederland. The Netherlands. Holland. What do I think of when I hear that word? Hmmm....
Well, let's begin with the obvious -
Gay people probably think about TOLERANCE.
Children (at least American children) often think about Hans Brinker.
To many others, Holland means a land of windmills, wooden shoes, canals, flowers, chocolate, and puffy white clouds against a soft blue sky.
Others first think about the drugs.
I think about all these things too I suppose. But the Netherlands is much more personal than that to me. The first thing that comes to mind is my Grandfather. Grandpa taught me nearly everything I know of the Netherlands. He taught me to speak Dutch, and my sister and I spoke it fluently by the age of four. Grandpa always insisted we speak Dutch when he was visiting (which was often). If I spoke in English to him he would say something like "ik spreek geen engels en ik begrijp het niet". This was grandpa's little way of reminding us to speak in Dutch! After grandpa died, we stopped speaking Dutch. I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it due to grief at first. Now I have forgotten much of the language. In high school I met an exchange student from Rotterdam. His name was Ron and we became good friends. My Dutch was "resurrected" that year and I enjoyed speaking in Dutch with him. He was a really nice guy. He quickly taught me some of the Dutch words, phrases and slang young people were currently using in Holland. Ron "updated" my Dutch I guess you could say.
Grandpa taught me about the Dutch customs. He taught me to think like a Dutchman as well as an American. He taught me to see the world through a second set of eyes; through Dutch eyes.
I remember Sinterklaas and Schimmel. I remember placing an apple in my shoe that night (mom wouldn't let us use her carrots for some reason). The house always smelled a little bit like gingerbread on this particular night too. The next morning we would find our shoes sitting by the fireplace filled with candy and small gifts. I remember Sinterklaas visiting us at our house. He would rap on the front door three times, ring a small handbell and then enter our home. He would sit down and ask us questions (always in Dutch) about how we behaved all year. I was scared of him too, because grandpa told me bad children were taken away to Spain if they were found out! I was always relieved to wake up safe in my bed the next morning! I would listen intently for Schimmel and Piet's footsteps up on our roof. To this day, I sometimes think I actually heard them too! But I wouldn't dare get out of bed to look! Just before Sinterklaas left us, he would toss a handful of candy (or sometimes pennies and nickels) in the air, we would scatter to collect everything and Sinterklaas would disappear out the door. We always sang
Sinterklaas Liedjes just before we went to bed. My favorite was
"Zie ginds komt de stoomboot". I can still hear it now, as I am typing this message! As I grew older, I began to question the existence of Sinterklaas. I asked grandpa one time why Sinterklaas came to the United States when he is suppose to be in Holland that same night. Grandpa told me that Sinterklaas also visits the Dutch children in the United States! "But how grandpa? If Sinterklaas comes to Holland on a steamboat, how does he get to America so fast?", I asked. "But you forget, he is also magical!" grandpa told me. I continued to believe for another year or two after that. Of course, later on, I found out that the Sinterklaas who visited our home was actually grandpa. And he was dressed in the same Sinterklaas costume my great grandfather brought with him from Arnhem many years before.
Grandpa was proud to be Dutch. And he taught me to be proud of it too. He took my sister and I to the Netherlands when we were kids. I remember all of it too! Grandpa showed us our ancestral cities of Arnhem, Nijmegen and Eindhoven. He told us about how much our extended family suffered during World War II. He taught us about the Battle of Arnhem. He taught us about the Dutch Resistance, and how people throughout the country would sometimes use the windmills to communicate with the Allied forces. Naturally, he showed us the flower fields of the Netherlands and told us that the tulip actually came from Turkey! The Dutch perfected the flower though and made it famous, he said. He told us that many years ago, the tulip was a very expensive flower and only the very rich could afford one.
Grandpa taught me to be proud of who I was and to try and stand up for what I thought was right (I guess this explains why I am always battling the trolls over on IMDb!). He taught me it isn't "Dutch" to complain about things. I never argued with him either! Grandpa was 6 1/2 feet tall! He was a kind man with a big heart who loved people and he loved his native country of the Netherlands intensely.
After grandpa died, I felt disconnected from the Netherlands. Like I said earlier, after he died we rarely spoke Dutch in the house. I didn't hear any more of those wonderful stories of life in the Netherlands. I guess this is why I am always so pleased to meet fellow Dutch people here on the Internet. It makes me feel reconnected again to thet country my grandpa taught me to love so much! I still try to cook traditional Dutch meals sometimes. I love
Erwtensoep (thick pea soup with sausage, bacon and pig knuckle),
Spekpannekoek met Stroop (pancakes and bacon, covered in syrup),
Jachtschotel (a cassarole (sp?) with meat and potatoes),
Stamppot (a dish with potatoes and smoked sausage) and even though it isn't necessarily Dutch, I also love to cook
Gebakken Kip (fried chicken)!
I noticed someone mentioned "gezellig" in an earlier message. Grandpa always called it gezelligheid. He taught me about that too! To me, the word gezellig simply means cozy. It is a friendly, cozy, happy feeling between good friends and family. I have always thought of gezellig as when you go to the home of a close friend and you bring a bottle of wine or some freshly baked cookies with you, the tv is turned off, and everyone enjoys each other's company for a few hours.Gezellig (to me anyway) is opening up your home to the ones you love, being hospitable and REALLY enjoying each other's company. It is hard to put it into words, isn't it? I guess it is one of those Dutch words that is difficult to translate into English. I just think of it as meaning cozy or hospitable!
Holland. What a country! It conjures up so many emotions, memories and feelings I have a hard time even putting it all into words. I guess all I can really say is this...
Ik Hou Van Nederland! 
