aryanhwy | inordinately proud

Since moving to Tilburg, I've had to bring out and exercise my meager conversational Dutch a lot more than previously. There are two causes; first, English is not as prevalent here as in Amsterdam (for example, I don't think I've interacted with a single non-Dutch person outside of the university), second, Tilburgers are much more inclined to make casual conversation with strangers than Amsterdamers are. I'm getting more comfortable with making this sort of small talk -- it helps that most of the questions are going to be about Gwen and those I can all recognize and answer appropriately -- in part because of the big book of children's rhymes and poems that I've been reading to her. I'm finding that what I'm taking away from reading these rhymes is not a wider vocabulary or a better sense of syntax, but rather something more ephemeral, the rhythm of the language. I'm starting to soak in when all the weird little enclitic particles get used, which often isn't covered by syntax or grammar, and it feels more natural to insert them into my speech. A lot of my baby talk with Gwen is in my halting Dutch, I figure she won't care if I make a mistake!

But anyway, I had an experience this weekend that made me quite proud (prouder, perhaps, than I should be given that I've lived in this country for 6.5 years, and I should know the language better than I do). I'd found a lot of size 62-68-74 clothes on marktplaats and bid 15EUR on it. The lot had more than 40 pieces of clothing, so this was cheaper than I could even get things from the Juttersdok. It's not like Gwen needs a lot more clothing, but she is beginning to outgrow the onesies that we have, and so this was a cheap and convenient way of getting more without having to pay full price for them. A few hours after I bid, my bid was accepted and I made arrangements to come by today between 11 and 12 to pick them up. Gwen had a two hour nap this morning and woke up around 10:40 which was just perfect timing in terms of getting her diaper changed, getting her bundled up and to head out. The exchange of money for clothes didn't take long, nor did it take that much explanation/conversation, but I was able to do the entire process -- from bidding, to arranging pick-up, to actually doing the pick-up -- without, I think, betraying that I'm not a Dutch speaker. It's not just that I relied on a lot of smiling and nodding (a technique which gets you further than you might think), but I knew the right polite-isms to intersperse. So, whoo! In a sense, I'm glad we moved here because it's finally forcing me to get better with Dutch. Even if we move in another year, the practice of having to speak a foreign language in order to get by is good for me.