The Passion Dutch Style


When you’ve lived in a country long enough–even if you tend to live in a bubble or under a rock–eventually local cultural phenomena infiltrate your consciousness. As Easter approached this year, I had one of those moments where something that had vaguely hovered on the periphery a few years in a row suddenly punctured my little bubble and made it’s way in: The Passion–a live Christian rock opera of sorts combined with a silent march that occurs each year on Holy Thursday and is broadcast live on TV.

How did I find out about it? Through my church? No. Through my Dutch husband or friends? No. Actually, it occurred while I was reading a rather heart-wrenching New York Times article on my iPhone while waiting for my son to finish his guitar lesson. It was about a U.S. soldier who was imprisoned while suffering from PTSD. When I saw an advertisement pop up, I actually clicked on the ad as a means of postponing my knowledge of this one young soldier’s fate.

The advert took me to an article about The Passion 2017 that would be broadcast live that evening on television. You could virtually “join” the march online. My mind reached into its memory banks and excitedly announced that this “Passion performance” was something I’d come across before. Coincidentally, we had just resolved a technical issue with our television, which means I had access to TV once again. I put it on my digital agenda and hog tied my son into watching it with me.

To be honest, I’ve always been a bit skeptical of contemporary versions of Bible stories, but that night, I gave my critic a rest and settled into the couch to watch the live performance. I wasn’t alone. According to NOS news, 44 percent of all viewers who were watching television at that time were watching The Passion along with me! That equates to almost 2 million people. Another 16,000 were participating live in Leeuwaarden.

Considering The Netherlands has a population of approximately 17 million, that’s more than 10% of the nation! Almost twice as many people were tuned into The Passion as those tuned into the quarter finals of the European League soccer match between Ajax and Schalke. And the Dutch LOVE their soccer.

Jesus was played by Dwight Dissels, a tall, dark and handsome singer with an amazing voice.

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Photo: NRC.NL

A striking red-haired woman named Elske DeWall played Mary and she sang in Frisian, a language spoken in the Dutch province of Friesland in the North of The Netherlands. This was also quite fitting considering the concert was held in Leeuwarden, which falls within this province. Omri Tindal, a young man from Rotterdam with a rich musical career and fantastic hair, played Peter.

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NLpopblog.nl

The entire performance was in Dutch (Frisian part was subtitled in Dutch), which meant that it was also like a musical Dutch lesson for me. Although many people say I’m close to fluent, I still can’t read the NRC newspaper without looking up at least 10 words per article. But the words used in this broadcast were completely within my grasp.

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Taken from the web (can’t find source. Sorry)

 

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(Taken from a blog, but can’t find source again! Sorry)

The cast was diverse, talented, energetic. I Enjoyed the entire performance and felt like I’d learned something that night about how the expression of religion doesn’t need to be confined to a church. I don’t view these sort of performances as a means of converting anyone, but it can certainly make an important religious story accessible to a broader segment of the population, and make it fresh to those who have heard it before. Well done folks!

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Pornographic Chickens & War


The internet is life changing. Even though I live abroad, I can see my friend’s children growing up through Facebook (or at least get little glimpses), I can ‘meet’ bloggers from Chile, Canada and the United Arab Emirates and find groups of people with similar interests.  I can look up things on Wikipedia, read from multiple news sources, write my congressperson, take courses if I want and see chicken porn.

Yeah. Those last two words are pretty much a conversation stopper. I’ve known for years that there is a dark side to the internet; that wars can be funded online, terrorist actions planned and a whole lot of other bad stuff. But knowing it’s out there doesn’t mean I come across it. But violent chicken porn?

One innocent YouTube video of how to round up chickens was followed by another that started out as strange and soon spiraled into the equivalent of a Caucasian man promoting violent rape, using a chicken carcass as the surrogate woman. I won’t give the title, because I don’t want to give this seriously sick person any more attention than his video has already received (the hits are in the millions).

That’s bad enough. But worse is that it was right there in the middle of perfectly innocent videos and unless flagged, would not be blocked by parental controls such as “guided access” or “restrictions.” I flagged the video and asked friends to flag it as well. Perhaps it’s now blocked through parental control apps, but how many more of these sorts of retina burning images are out there? And who’s going to protect ME from them?

This is nothing compared to images of Syrian children, women and men dying from chemical weapon attacks or Egyptians in church on Palm Sunday being blown to pieces by a terrorist attack. These images will always be with me, but these awful deaths captured on film at least bring the world to tears and world leaders to action.

Do I wish I hadn’t seen these images? The part of me that wants to deny the darkness within our species would have preferred not to see this. But the part of me that knows reporters are risking their lives to get the news to us and that wants war crimes and terrorism to come to an end somehow believes that our collective knowledge of such suffering will be a catalyst for change. I unfortunately don’t have any links to support this, but I believe if we all write our governments and tell them that we find these acts unacceptable, we might add pressure to be the change toward peace.  One can at least hope this is the case.

These atrocious videos that promote rape on the home front are the types of things we, as a civil society, can certainly fight.

You can take action by flagging inappropriate content on YouTube, to save others from being exposed to this crap. Click here for YouTube’s instructions.

Here are some articles on setting up safety features:

Setting up restrictions on your iPad, iPhone, etcetera.
Setting up safety mode on YouTube.

I plan to continue being a member of the digital world, reading blogs, watching YouTube videos on topics of interest, writing books and blogs, participating in social media channels and watching the news. But I also plan to be more vigilant and do my part to flag inappropriate content and using the internet for connection and positivity.

Ostriches don’t actually hide their heads in the sand. Neither should we.

 

He Got me at Ambulatory, but What about Gimcrack?


When we were first dating, my husband used complex English words, some of which I, as a native English speaker, didn’t even know.

Consider the word “ambulatory”, which means to the ability to walk about (thus not bedridden). I don’t know how ambulatory came up, but he correctly guessed the meaning at a time when I was struggling to come up with one. I think that might have been when I began to fall for the tall, smart Dutchman.

He’s a smart one, but it also has to do with the European education system and perspective. My husband attended “Gymnasium,” which is the equivalent of high school for university-bound students. Latin and Greek are part of the curriculum offered at this level, and many words in the English language have Latin or Greek roots. Due to the education he received as a teenager, he knew that the Latin word “ambulare” means “to walk or move about.” Thus ambulatory was a logical step in his reasoning. So he basically charmed me in my early thirties utilizing his high school education. (Just to clarify, he’s my same age, so this is not a cougar story of cradle robbing).

His knowledge of language also has to do with location.

Growing up in the west coast of the U.S., I could travel for two weeks straight across America and not encounter any other languages besides English and some occasional Spanish. In The Netherlands, you only need to travel for a few hours to reach another country with different laws, a different language, and it’s own set of cultural norms.Political-Map-of-Germany.png

If you live in a large Dutch city, you can have this same experience walking down the street. On any given day, I can hear Moroccan, Turkish, Spanish, Iranian, French, Arabic and other languages just by the common activity of walking my child to school.

My son’s school alone is filled with students from over 40 different countries of origin, yet it is a Dutch school. The children are discouraged from speaking other languages on the playground or in the classroom. Yet all of those kids have parents, who just like me, when they come home or leave the school, most likely speak to their children in their mother tongue.

The Netherlands is a small country, and with such a diversity of cultures just past the border, or within its borders, it only makes sense that multiple language acquisition is the norm.

As a lingua franca, English has a special place in this process of language acquisition. They start teaching English as a second language in school around the age of 8 or 9 years old.

When you live abroad long enough, you tend to learn the local language. I spend a good deal of my day speaking Dutch. Although it’s exciting to be able to communicate in Dutch, it also has a downside. As my brain acquires more and more Dutch, my English is surely but slowly eroding. That’s why I seek out other native-English speaking expats. It’s also why I signed up for Miriam-Webster’s Word of The Day newsletter.

Each day, I receive a new word in my inbox with a definition, examples of usage and the history of the word. Most of the time I know the word, and get a shot of native language confidence as I say to myself “already knew that!” But this morning a word showed up that upon first encounter, made me flicker my eyebrows: Gimcrack.

Before I even opened the email, I was forming definitions in my head: Gimcrack: 1) That unfortunate view one is exposed to when a plumber bends over to fix a sink, or 2) A person at a gym doing squats and accidentally displaying a portion of their buttocks, commonly known as crack.

To my relief, both of my definitions were wrong. Here is the correct definition:

Gimcrack (pronounced Jim krak): A showy object of little use or value: gewgaw.

Say what? Gewgaw? It’s a knickknack or in other words, a kickshaw or a tchotchke. Where do we come up with all of these words?

Try using Gimcrack in a sentence. It will either impress the socks off someone or earn you a misguided punch in the arm.

Screenshot 2017-04-04 18.11.22