| The
Netherlands: The Polder Method
By Darren Negraeff
Bicycles, mopeds, cars and trucks
sizzle past, seemingly following an imaginary or fanciful
set of traffic rules. A madness that is largely incomprehensible
to the outsider but second nature to the local residents
who are unfazed by the nightmare maze of narrow, canal-lined
streets of Amsterdam.
Suddenly a van stops in front of
the café, causing a commotion. Behind it, a
large white truck and two cyclists, apparently following
a little too closely, have narrowly avoided a three-way
collision. A brief argument ensues and voices are
raised, but in the end, no one seems to mind. After
all, it is a common scene within the canal-belt of
Amsterdam; and after a minute, his delivery complete,
the driver of the van hops back in and speeds away.
Rain begins to fall, and I grudgingly
accompany a flood of local residents and tourists
to shelter in the café.
The air is heavy with smoke, as
an old dust-covered ceiling fan makes a moribund attempt
at pushing the air around. Behind the bar are liquor
bottles in great variety, the effect magnified by
the mirrored backdrop one would expect in a place
called Café de Prins. But it’s early on a Saturday,
and neither they nor the prince is stirring – the
only thing being ordered by the few customers here
is coffee in tiny cups.
Once the initial turmoil of satisfying
a dozen or so customers is complete, the waitress,
who bears an unmistakable resemblance to Jodie Foster,
catches my eye and asks, in Dutch, if I would like
something to drink. I nod and reply, ‘Een coffee
verkeerd, alstublieft,’ which, literally translated
means, ‘coffee “wrong” please’, or in other words,
coffee with milk. She nods and asks me something else,
I think; but Dutch is a difficult language to learn;
and after two months I am only just getting the hang
of it. I’m guessing it has something to do with money—but
with only that to go on I break down and admit I don’t
speak much Dutch, fearful of being cast down into
the ranks of the common tourist.
‘That’s OK,’ she says, in perfect
English, ‘at least you try. Would you like to pay
now or later?’
I produce the correct change in
coins and retreat back into my cocoon of brooding
silence, unhappy to have shattered the illusion of
being Dutch. Something odd is happening in the café.
Several people at different tables seem to be arguing.
Not wanting to be excluded, I ask
the waitress what is happening.
‘They are discussing the situation
in Iraq, and whether America or the U.N should lead
the re-construction effort. It is a hot topic here,
you know.’
It seems an odd topic, considering
it’s a Saturday morning and that the Netherlands is
not a member of the ‘coalition of the willing’. But
the Dutch in general, and Amsterdammers in particular,
have a very well rounded view of the world, despite
living in a small country that has little say or impact
on foreign affairs.
This has not always been the case, and with a view
to history, it is not surprising that the Dutch take
such an interest in international politics. For most
of the 16th and 17th centuries, Dutch shipping ruled
the seas, constantly searching for new and better
trading routes. In the process they discovered and
laid claim to many lands: New Holland (today Australia),
New Zealand (named after the province of Zeeland),
Batavia (Latin for Holland, now Jakarta), and a little
trading post called New Amsterdam, which later became
New York. Amsterdam, as the most powerful and wealthiest
city in the so-called low-countries, consequently
basked in the limelight of her achievements, a jewel
on the world’s biggest stage.
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