The weather
We Dutch like to talk about the weather. Complaining about the snow, rain or stifling heat, followed by gripes about delayed trains and the too early summer break of our favourite tv show. It seems like our topics for conversation are as small as our country.
When we go abroad and place our little matters in a suitcase, we usually feel a tinge of nostalgia when unpacking and see it laying there next to the peanut butter and licorice. The friendly Americans, loving smalltalk with strangers, can’t resist just moving along after a mundane “How are you?” when they hear an answer in this foreign, seemingly German accent. Tallahassee is not accustomed to Europeans and nowadays I start to recognize the facial expression when I reveal my home country. A comical result of admiration frustrated by a failed attempt to hide ignorance, narrated by “Oh, that’s so nice!”
The universal constant in global differences is of course the local climate, so it comes to no surprise the weather is often brought up in intercultural conversation. This is where the Dutch get excited with a sense of unchallenged satisfaction. Perhaps the feeling is only rivaled by eating a slice of bread with a thick layer of good ol’ Dutch Calve Peanut Butter during an outside breakfast on a campground in France. We don’t just get to talk about the weather, no we can actually tell all about our cultural habit complaining about it too! And when we get too excited, we continue into an obscure rant about imperial after converting to fahrenheit for the tenth time in our head. Make no mistake when a Dutchman tells an American that everything is so much easier in metric: He actually thinks they are are all idiots and should keep up with common sense the rest of humanity discovered ages ago. But he usually tries to engage in local rituals and sugarcoat by just merrily explaining the advantages of how we do things back home.
Staying abroad for a couple of months is more than enough to get passed the touristy chit-chat at the supermarket. When conversations get more serious though, feelings like pride and shame take a more prominent role too. Easily recognized by the enthusiastic way cultural habits are described. Shame is a bit harder, usually hidden by ridiculing one’s countrymen. I’m not sure why, but I think it’s the way we feel so helpless when associated with abhorring behavior just because it happens to take place on the same side of the border. Fortunately I have enough material to study during this election year. So far, fear and frustration seem to be the common denominator on both sides of the spectrum. I am just glad I have enough of a Dutch accent and plenty stories about snow and ice to keep the peace if it does get out of hand.
