Rotterdam, Brazil

I now have more Brazilian colleagues than Dutch, funnily enough, and they like to talk about Brazil, funnily enough, so I am slowly acquiring more and more facts about Brazil. The population of Brazil is about 200 million, which is ten times the population of Australia (and could explain why I’ve met more Brazilians than Australians lately). Like Australia, there are also indigenous peoples (and land ownership disputes) and a large immigrant population, and it was colonised by a far-off land, so there are times when I feel a bit more affinity with the Brazilians than with the Dutch.

Rotterdam is currently home to a large-scale exhibition about Brazil, known as Brazil Contemporary [en], which is in town until the end of August. Why Brazil, I’m not sure — I can’t find any particularly special link between the two countries. The introduction in the official brochure mentions that Brazil is a big user of the port, but that’s not that interesting. In 2006 Rotterdam hosted China Contemporary, so maybe they’re just working through the BRIC countries and extending a friendly handshake to the supposed next world powers. Smart move if so.

There are three museums involved with this event with temporary exhibitions — Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, NAi (the architecture institute), and the Nederlands Fotomuseum — as well as one-off events around town. Rotterdam is also home to the annual Zomercarnavale, which is a more authentic version of Brazilian carnival, actually being in the summer for one thing. So, just like in my office, the Brazilians have officially taken over Rotterdam this summer. Recently I did a quick tour through the three museums in one afternoon, but I might return later in August for the fashion exhibitions and revisit one or two museums.

Never been to São Paulo? NAi have turned one of their rooms into São Paulo for your convenience. Or an approximation thereof — it seemed to be lacking 20 million people, i.e., more than the population of the Netherlands. There are several big screens showing short films of the city in sync, which is really atmospheric.

The most comprehensive exhibition though is at the Fotomuseum. Here you can see photos of modern-day Brazil, along with book covers, event posters, short films, experimental art, and computer games. One of the games looks like a typical martial arts game, but on closer inspection is based on the art form of capoeira. I really enjoyed the wall of excerpts from Tupigrafia, a magazine about typography. The panoramas of São Paulo are also impressive.

From watching Brazilian films, one could be forgiven for thinking that Brazil is all about favelas (slums), crime, drugs, partying and football. That does come through in the exhibitions, but they do show other aspects, for example, people going to and from work. A building in one of the photos looked exactly like an old (i.e., 19th century) building in Melbourne.

Using the ideas of the philosopher Alain de Botton, this is a great example of imaginative travel, where one “travels” but without the physical part. Given that the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade is still listing Brazil as a not particularly safe country, I’d say this is the closest I’ll get to Brazil in the near future. If I remember correctly, de Botton also says one can be disappointed if one actually physically travels somewhere, so maybe it’s better this way.

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Brazil Contemporary can be seen at various locations in Rotterdam until 23 August 2009.

Diploma

This year on my two-year anniversary of starting work, I was stuck inside, which is nothing unusual, especially on a nice sunny day. The only difference this year was that I was actually in an exam centre with about twenty other people.

We were sitting the NT2 Staatsexamen, which is the local equivalent of the IELTS or TOEFL exam. My experience of the latter exams is non-existent, as I have 13 years of school and a few higher degrees undertaken in English-speaking institutions as proof of my English language skills. (Surprisingly, none of the above tests is a requirement for doing a PhD at TU/e — you are not officially required to show any proficiency in Dutch or English as far as I’m aware.) In any case, I have no reason to show proof of my Dutch language skills, but I thought it might look good on my CV.

The level 2 Staatsexamen (NT2-II) is really only needed if you want to undertake a higher degree which is taught in Dutch. Some employers may also request it. Level 1 is slightly easier and can be used to obtain a Dutch passport. The other participants I talked to wanted to go to uni — they weren’t there for work reasons. So I had to explain that I was just there for fun. No, really. They had also been living in the Netherlands for a lot longer than I, and had Dutch partners (which helps with learning the language), so I felt really out of my depth. I don’t know if it’s the same elsewhere, but at the Eindhoven exam centre there are often a large number of German students sitting the exam, who will spend the breaks talking in German, unlike everyone else who communicated in Dutch.

I was quite curious what hoops I’d be made to jump through. The whole exam takes two days, however you can elect to sit the different parts in different weeks — one woman at my trial exam had booked four separate days so she would have only one exam per day. I decided to do it all in one go, which was tiring. The first day is reading, followed by speaking, and then the second day is listening and writing.

What I found interesting is how they isolate the different skills. You are only required to write during the writing exam: reading and listening are multiple choice, and speaking is clearly assessed on your vocal output only, however you are allowed to make notes, which are not assessed.

Listening consists of answering multiple choice questions about different interviews between two or more people — there’s no visual aspect to help with context, so watching TV is not the best preparation. You will also never hear the possible answers being directly spoken, so you need to be able to process the spoken information, rather than just listen for certain words.

Speaking is also a difficult exam to study for. You are given several situations, one-by-one, and you are asked to put yourself in that situation and provide an answer in 20-30 seconds. It really requires you to have a good and quick vocabulary. Sometimes it can take me up to a day to remember a particular word, so suffice to say, I was not looking forward to it.

Somehow, my idea of fun paid off, and I am now the proud owner of a Dutch as a second language diploma (after a brief saga in which the post office returned it to sender because I hadn’t picked it up after only two days). Each exam has a 60-75% first attempt pass rate, so I suppose I did well to pass all four for someone who’s only been here for a short time. The certificate is strangely pretty, and a nice memento of the half-way point of my contract. I could improve my Dutch further, however for now I’m happy with Dutch maintenance and working on my German instead.

Sunday’s news

Sunday for me typically involves heading to a cafe for some eggs and toast and hot chocolate and flicking through the Sunday papers, usually the tabloids as they are smaller and easier to handle. There are several problems with that in the Netherlands: a) eggs on toast is not so popular; b) most cafes aren’t open on Sunday at all, let alone early in the morning; c) there are no Sunday papers.

Most papers here are “acquired” as part of a subscription. Buying a paper on a daily basis from a newsagency is not so popular, and the amount of stock is usually very low. In addition, buying papers daily is usually significantly more expensive than having a subscription. For example, buying Eindhovens Dagblad daily costs €1.45, whereas a monthly subscription works out at about €0.87 per day. In city centres around the country on Saturdays there will be people offering you a free paper and then trying to sell you subscriptions with special offers.

There are opportunities to have trial subscriptions, but then there are limits on how often. Last year I had a trial nrc.next plus deal, so I received nrc.next for five days a week and then NRC Handelsblad on Saturdays for five weeks. The thing that annoyed me most was that the Saturday paper was guaranteed to arrive (and usually arrived just in time) by 1pm, so it can’t be read in bed over breakfast. I recently finished a 10-week Volkskrant Saturday subscription, and it was often in my letterbox before 10am.

However, the thickness of the Saturday papers is noticeable compared to Melbourne papers. They’re so thin. It’s so bizarre to pay $5-6 for a tiny tiny paper. On the other hand, there’s a lot of irrelevant stuff in the Melbourne weekend papers, especially if you’re not in the market for a car, house, or job.

The Saturday papers here have significant science sections, covering current research, university news, and occasionally PhD defenses, which is something I haven’t really noticed in Australia. Last year, as part of a course I did on scientific journalism, we wrote short articles for Saturday’s AD. Unfortunately, they are usually published without bylines, so we weren’t credited. In any case, the article I worked on (about the confirmation of a black hole in the Milky Way) was heavily edited — the press release we worked with was rather complex. A few words of our copy made it in though.

Even though the size is a lot less, I prefer the style of Dutch newspapers. I especially like nrc.next’s inclusion of summaries and background info with articles, which is particularly aimed at young professionals who want info quickly. If only I could find someone to bring me eggs on toast and a hot chocolate while I read.

(PS. Since drafting this, I’ve found a cafe in Eindhoven which is a) open on Sundays; b) offers eggs, possibly on toast; c) has a wonderful large reading table with newspapers and magazines. So I am rather pleased, although I am yet to try the eggs and there is no hot chocolate on the menu. The pots of tea are great though.)

Pinkpop revisited

After last year’s rejigging of the schedule (i.e., so that the good bands were spread across the three days instead of all being on Monday, which could be an explanation for why the 3-day tickets sold out within a week), which meant that none of my colleagues could decide which day to go and in the end none of us went, I decided to pop back to Pinkpop this year. Again, there was a choice between Sunday and Monday, and I ended up choosing wrong and going for Monday. In any case, it was an excuse to get outside in the sun and listen to some music.

Apparently there were 65,000 people there on Monday this year, and the main area seemed a lot more crowded than two years ago. I don’t remember the onlookers stretching all the way to the back of the field last time. Also queuing for 20 minutes to get in and then another 20 minutes for food/drink coupons and then another 20 minutes for free water was a bit crazy.

Comparing with last time:

• I didn’t spot Giel Beelen, although I don’t recognise him with his new hairstyle anyway.
• The pizza slices are still highly recommended.
• All-weather gear is something I skipped, as I assumed it wouldn’t rain, which it did. (My colleague claimed De Jeugd van Tegenwoordig vastly improved from the rain onwards. I didn’t see much difference.) I also came home looking like a lobster.
• Didn’t see any fires or fireworks this time (maybe because I left early).
• The fashion trends this year were in order: tshirts of bands performing, no shirt or a bikini top, Pinkpop tshirts (either from 2009 or other years), tshirts of bands not performing, pink tshirts in general, black, and none of the above.

Last time the lesson learned was to avoid coaches — they leave for the festival terrain too early and they come back too late. Catching the train was much easier. The station at Heerlen was decorated with signs wishing us a good time and speakers blasting out Wir sind Helden. The lesson learned transport-wise this time was not to buy the Pinkpop train ticket which included a shuttle from Landgraaf to Megaland — it was cheaper to buy a ticket to Landgraaf and then a return shuttle ticket in the bus. On the way home the buses were few and far between, so I walked to Landgraaf instead, and ended up missing a Pinkpop pendeltrein by one minute.

I’ve never been to a festival in Australia, so I can’t compare. It is customary though for any European-based music/event fan to go to something during the summer, be it Pinkpop, Lowlands (which has been sold out for a while now), North Sea Jazz (which I’m annoyed to be missing out on), or Werchter (pretty much sold out) or Pukkelpop in Belgium, or some of the smaller, local festivals such as Best’s dance-themed Extrema Outdoor or Tilburg’s world-music-themed Festival Mundial, among others. Some are expensive, but they’re certainly value for money and if the weather is good, a nice day out. However, take a lesson from me and don’t forget sunscreen and a raincoat.

School exams

Finishing school is one of the key life events that the Dutch like to celebrate. School exam season gets a lot of attention here, so even though I’m not entirely interested, it’s hard to avoid. On the first day of exams it was all over the press that a question had been removed from one of the Dutch exams [en] for being too politically-biased.

As background, school students are streamed from the age of 12. This year there are around 200,000 students studying for exams at three levels:

• VMBO (voorbereidend middelbaar beroepsonderwijs, 4 years, ~110,000 students), which is vocational;
• HAVO (hoger algemeen voortgezet onderwijs, 5 years, ~50,000 students), which is required for further polytechnic education; and
• VWO (voorbereidend wetenschappelijk onderwijs, 6 years, ~40,000 students), which is required for university education.

Every year there is a reality show broadcast during exams (De klas van 2009, The Class of 2009), which follows eight students, this year from Lelystad. I accidentally caught this last year, where I discovered that the students get coffee breaks during exams. We didn’t even get that at uni, let alone at school. This year’s opening episode focussed on the school prom, so even American traditions get a run here. The second episode showed the VMBO students doing their huishoudkunde (household skills) exam. They can iron better than I can. Although where manicures fit into the curriculum is lost on me.

One of the students in the 2008 show was a committee member for the national student advisory board. The board offers an advice and complaints line, as well as the answers to exams a day or two later, so the students can take a punt at how well they’ve done. This year’s big complaint is that the VWO Dutch exam had too many open-ended questions compared to last year — 3500 calls were taken in a few hours following the exam, and 10,000 within a few days.

Looking at past exams though is interesting. Firstly, it’s curious that only ten or so foreign languages are offered, compared to the 40+ languages that are offered by the education board in Victoria. Secondly, as part of the English exam, there’s no requirement to write in English. It’s purely reading English texts: multiple-choice questions are posed in English and short-answer questions are asked and answered in Dutch. There is a warning at the start of the exam paper that answers in English will receive zero points, unless it has been explicitly asked for. However, in my French exam (ok, over 10 years ago now, but it hasn’t changed), I was required to read and listen to French texts and answer in English and write a longer text in French, therefore demonstrating several skills in two hours.

As with all key life events, there are traditions involved. In Sweden a few Junes ago, I came across some trucks carrying loads of students, all wearing sailor-type hats. Here, if someone in the household has passed their exams, then their schoolbag is hung on the the flagpole outside the house. It’s a nice, sedate way to mark the transition from school to work or college or uni.

Luxembourg

In Europe, there’s not much in the way of physically delineated borders anymore. Usually just a sign. However, between the Netherlands and Belgium, there’s no need for one in order to know where you are, because it’s immediately obvious when the red-brick, neatly arranged houses disappear and the view becomes hilly, with a mish-mash of housing styles, including space around the houses. I noticed a hill in Wallonia somewhere with different-sized houses placed higgledy-piggledy all over it. And there are no roadworks or construction equipment every kilometre or so.

This was my first time in Wallonia, except I didn’t stay very long, as my destination was Luxembourg. I was aware that Luxembourg was a very small place from a school project I once did on population and density. Apart from that, I didn’t know much else. Given the size though, I figured 48 hours was enough time to explore the capital. Even Lonely Planet recommends a two-day itinerary. But I was wrong. There are a lot of steps to go up and down to get anywhere.

Luxembourg has a long history, dating back over a thousand years. However, the history of culture is relatively short. The Musée National d’Histoire et d’Art has a small section dedicated to Luxembourgish art, however it only dates back to the early-mid 1800s. Given the population is about half a million, it’s actually quite impressive.

What it lacks in culture though is made up for in practicality. The inhabitants have taken advantage of their geographical location, especially with their language policy. There are still the remains of fortresses and walls built to protect the city from numerous attacks, which are open for exploration.

The language situation in Luxembourg is curious. They have their own language, however they are also fluent in French and German, and most speak English as well. The difference to other “multilingual” countries is that in Luxembourg, it’s not split on geography — it’s situation-based. French is used in everyday activity, so decades-old schoolgirl French got another rare outing. Only the conductor on the train on the way home spoke to me in Luxembourgish.

In the free press on my first day there, there was a story about the strengthening of Luxembourgish. About 80% of residents use the language every day, and it is beginning to be used more in shops. It also noted that more than 50% of immigrants (about a third of the population, mostly from Portugal and Italy) are also learning and using Luxembourgish. But how on earth do they learn it when most activities are undertaken in French? The press is mostly in French and German — even the Zeitung vum Lëtzebuerger Vollek is in German, despite the Luxembourgish title and date header. There is Luxembourgish TV and radio, but I couldn’t pick it up in my hotel room.

That about a third of the population are immigrants is also impressive — the Luxembourgish strike me as very tolerant and welcoming. The May Day celebrations at Neumünster Cathedral were subtitled “fête du travail, des cultures et du dialogue” (holiday of work, cultures and dialogue) and included a multicultural food tent (à la the Night Market in Melbourne). There is also a service to help immigrants settle by providing information and interpreting services.

The Luxembourgish motto, “Mir wëlle bleiwe wat mir sinn” (We want to remain what we are), sums up the country quite well. It’s a country that’s very aware of itself and its place in Europe. Just when you thought the Netherlands was small, Luxembourg is even smaller, and with a lot more geographical character per square kilometre.

Workplace language

From talking to people in my Dutch classes and other expats, I’ve come across several different models of how language works in the workplace. One extreme (experienced by one or two people) is that the workplace is run entirely in Dutch — supervisor meetings, lunch conversations, everything. The other extreme is that the workplace is run entirely in English. Some of my classmates said that they don’t speak Dutch at all outside the course.

I seem to fall into some middle category: the department is still very Dutch, and in informal group situations (such as birthday pie) people sit around talking Dutch regardless of who is present, but formal meetings (both one-on-one and with the whole research group) are carried out in English.

When I started at the uni, without knowing any Dutch, I thought this behaviour at morning tea was impolite and exclusionary. I found it surprising as I wasn’t the only staff member present who didn’t speak Dutch, but this research group has employed international PhD candidates for 10 years, so it wasn’t like it was a new thing for the group to have non-Dutch speakers present. Due to this experience, I decided it would be worthwhile to take Dutch classes, against my initial wishes. (I actually wanted to work on my German, seeing as it’s a slightly more useful/transferable language.)

After 18 months or so (by which stage I could follow conversations a bit better and throw the odd word in every now and then), I brought up the issue of language at informal events with a few of my colleagues. They told me they don’t mean to be impolite, but they often don’t realise they’re speaking Dutch instead of English. I can understand that that’s easier for them, and sometimes I like listening to the Dutch conversations, but I think there needs to be a bit more compromise between the two languages.

The Dutch also point out to me that had I gone to Germany or France to work, then I would be expected to speak German or French at work. Firstly, I assume this would have been made clear to me at the interview stage at least, and secondly, I would have been able to go to language school in Melbourne beforehand for both of those languages. There’s very little opportunity to learn Dutch outside the Netherlands.

So after spending far too much time in Dutch classes, I’ve hit a small problem. With the large influx of new PhDs to our group (our group came into some funding last year), all of whom are international, and the departure of one of the Dutch PhD candidates, I am now struggling to find opportunities to speak Dutch. On the other hand, all the newbies have really tipped the balance towards non-Dutch speakers, so hopefully our Dutch colleagues will become more aware of their language use at work.

Pasen

One thing I remember about Easter in Australia is that everyone complains that the eggs and merchandise etc. comes out earlier every year. (Last year, that was true in a sense as it was a very early Easter.) This year, I think I found Easter eggs in Dutch shops in early February, so they’ve been out for a while now.

But by eggs and merchandise, Australians generally mean chocolate eggs and chocolate rabbits and chocolate bilbies and hot cross buns (of which I eat only the chocolate or non-fruit variety).

The Easter merchandise in Eindhoven is a little different. There are still eggs. Chocolate rabbits are not as dominant — Lindt bunnies do exist though. There’s no hot cross buns. (I sat up late on Wednesday night making my own and then distributed them at work the next day. They weren’t bad, except they were too hard and I was too lazy to draw crosses on them.) Instead, there are Easter biscuits, Easter meringues, and chocolate chickens. I can buy a pancake mix that comes with a rabbit-shaped mould.

The latest issue of the supermarket magazine has plenty of ideas for a festive lunch or dinner. I don’t think I’ve ever participated in a particularly special lunch/dinner at Easter in Australia. I think they’re trying to drum it up here so it’s pretty much as big as Christmas (keeping in mind that Christmas Day is not that big here, but is growing in festiveness every year).

Another thing that I don’t quite understand is that shops and some businesses are still open on Good Friday, and then Easter Sunday and Monday are the big holidays. I’m used to a complete shutdown on Good Friday — until recently you couldn’t even get a newspaper in Melbourne on that day — and spending the day sitting around watching celebrities answer phones for the Good Friday Appeal for the Royal Children’s Hospital.

The highlight of Easter for me though is vogelnestjes (of the chocolate variety). These are about an inch in diameter, with a chocolate base and then a soft chocolate circle for the nest. A few small jelly bean “eggs” are then placed on top. I would take a photo but I’ve eaten all my supply. Vrolijk Pasen!

English news

Last week I attended a focus group session for the university newspaper about the English page. They were thinking of translating more articles from the Dutch section and putting them online and/or making more space in the paper for English content. The question was: what sort of articles do you want to read?

After doing a short course on scientific journalism late last year, I’m quite interested in finding out more about how newspapers/journalism works. Because of this, I was keen to attend.

But on the other hand, I don’t read the uni paper much any more, so I wasn’t quite sure what I could contribute. I find the English page not so relevant any more and I read the feeds online from the Dutch section. On top of this, none of my colleagues read it, so even if I do read the paper, I have no-one to interact with about it. However, there was another participant who said all of his international colleagues read the Cursor English page every week, and sometimes they discuss it. I really miss discussing articles from The Age (or even the Herald-Sun) during lunch.

In terms of interaction, another development that was discussed was the use of the new TU/e social networking site. I joined this a while back, but there’s only a few people there at the moment. It might take some more time to pick up pace. However, there is now a forum where members can discuss the stories on the English page. So far, no comments though.

We also had a look at some recent English pages from other Dutch unis. There were several different layouts: some had a single feature article with some smaller summary articles, and some were similar to Cursor with several short articles. One page even had an advice column (the anonymously-sent question was “How should I address my professor?”) which was a nice idea.

I think the misconception is that the English page is only for the international staff/students and therefore should only be about international staff/students. This is another example of how the international community is being disadvantaged. DutchNews and Expatica don’t make the assumption that their audience is only interested in expat news. I would like to read about the uni, what’s happening, who the important people are, what does the rector do, etc.

So after my initial hesitation, it was worthwhile (even though I was described as “annoyed” in the accompanying article and I look grumpy as anything in the photo). I’m pleased to see that steps are being taken to increase the amount of English news and communication. In last week’s issue there was already more English content with the front page story about the now English language academic year opening ceremony appearing in both Dutch and English, which was doubly good (for being in both languages and for the news itself). Hopefully we’ll have a follow-up session at some stage.

Black Saturday

The lead news story a few weekends ago on NOS and the BBC was the bushfires in south-eastern Australia. A combination of heat and winds made these fires particularly nasty and they have been the worst bushfires in Australian history. Today is a National Day of Mourning for the 200+ people who lost their lives.

From watching the international TV coverage, reading the Melbourne papers online, talking to family, and following my ex-colleagues’ blogs and tweets, I could see that everyone is pretty affected by it all. While I complained about subzero temperatures and snow (the other day I got hailed on grrrr), I was hearing about heatwaves and record temperatures. Two weeks ago it was 46 degrees in Melbourne.

Myself and my family all live in fairly built up areas, so we are not directly affected. (My colleague did ask, as she knows roughly where I live, but I live well within the Melbourne boundary and the fires were outside or on the border. The next day a small fire started ~10 kilometres from where I live though, allegedly deliberately lit.) I’ve never lived in a potential bushfire area, so I have no firsthand experience of what the affected people have been through.

Unfortunately, fires are a common occurrence in summer. A few weeks ago I was in Ballarat (almost two hours from Melbourne) shopping for my sister-in-law’s bridal gown. As soon as we arrived, the smell of smoke was terrible. The guy at the bridal shop told us Lake Wendouree was on fire (again, apparently, and deliberately, apparently). Due to the drought, the lake bed has been dry for over two years. Combined with the heat, it’s not a pleasant environment. However, a few hours later, the temperature had dropped and the smoke had dissipated. The weather can change that quickly.

It’s difficult reading about these events which are close to home. There have been many “smaller” events in Melbourne/Victoria since I moved here, but this has probably been the worst to follow as it’s attracted worldwide coverage and I’ve seen more video footage than I normally would.

It’s also hard when everyone’s opening topic for a conversation with me is something to do with fires. Another example of this occurred when I did an interview for the uni paper last year with an Indian colleague just after the Mumbai terrorist attacks. Instead of starting on topic, the journalist began by asking him about it. My colleague had stayed up into the early hours reading online coverage.

However, it’s been amazing reading the messageboards at the ABC and The Age, where people have offered sympathy and support. Organisations were asking for clothes donations (as most survivors just had what they were wearing) or blood donations for the burns victims. For those of us who aren’t nearby, apart from donating money (via the Red Cross in Australia or the UK), there’s not a lot we can do.