July 2007: Backing Barack, Getting Gezellig, Destination Delft

From The Captain…

This month’s leg of FlightKL18 looks back across the Atlantic at the most important US election that has faced Americans—and the world—in a generation. Then, looking over to the sunrise, an adventure into the purely Dutch world of “gezelligheid” and an invitation to the new “hangar” for FlightKL18.

Backing Barack

While to reveal my choice for the US Presidency in 2008 is hardly a matter of global significance, I’ve been asked the question enough times to merit a public declaration—and I think the case for my candidate is compelling enough to warrant a brief screed on his behalf.

I’m backing Senator Barack Obama. I have to admit that I took a liking to him during his speech at the 2004 Democratic Convention, where his performance overshadowed the otherwise underwhelming coronation of John Kerry, who, of course, later became the first Democratic nominee to actually lose to George W. Bush.

In the Convention speech, Obama seized the nation’s attention as a figure who could feasibly bridge the many fissions present in American society—race, religion, ideological polarization, economic status and whether or not one has health insurance. A speaker of resonance, with a distinctive appearance derived from being the son of an African on one side and the descendant of slaveholders on the other.

To some, Obama doesn’t sound like a President—that his relative youth (age) and his brief political career give him little depth on the nuances of policy. Obama’s ‘weakness’ on policy is trumpeted by supporters of rival Hillary Clinton as the rationale for giving the Democratic nomination (and likely the Presidency) to an individual who, as an unelected First Lady, managed to mangle the most important Democratic policy initiative in a generation.

To some, Obama doesn’t pray like a President. He belongs to a congregation of the United Church of Christ, a church with openly gay clergy and a generally liberal theological outlook. For sure, Obama’s minister is an African-American activist with ultra-leftist leanings, particularly on middle-east issues, which Obama has publicly distanced himself from without severing the relationship. (At the same time, Billy Graham, who ministered to many US presidents, including Nixon and Reagan, once spoke of a “Jewish Stranglehold” on the US media).

To some, Barack Obama doesn’t look like a President. Indeed, the number of times I hear “but he can’t really get elected” in my recent conversations on the subject is too numerous to count. But there are only two real reasons why Senator Barack Obama can’t get elected—because too many people believe America can’t/shouldn’t have a President whose lineage didn’t all come from Northern Europe, or because they genuinely don’t think Obama’s up for the job, particularly after a full-force campaign to expose and highlight every real and inflated vulnerability the Senator may have.

And that, ultimately, is why I’m backing Barack 100%. I disagree with him on a number of issues, and I don’t have much use for his minister. But he has one commodity that none of the other candidates has in anywhere near the same dosage:

Courage.

Barack Obama is a man with young children. Barack Obama is a liberal African-American running for national office in a country where there are lots of angry white men with guns. Barack Obama is a conscientious and intelligent public servant who is willing to risk his reputation very early in his career, exposing himself to what will undoubtedly be a scorching campaign by Hillary Clinton, trying to defend a nomination she somehow believes is “rightly hers.” And, if he survives the Clinton onslaught, one can only imagine the Republican pyrotechnics as they seek to avoid a complete post-Bush meltdown.

So, Barack Obama is a brave guy. And, given his unique personality and background, an Obama presidency has the potential to be transformational and transformative. Electing Barack Obama will send a message to the world—and to ourselves—that we are finally willing to embrace the future. It would be an end to the ugly trend in America toward dynastic politics. It would be a bold stroke, a master stroke.

And, given the quality of the opposition, on both sides of the aisle, the opportunity may be one Americans think worth seizing.

Gettin’ Gezellig

A long day of apartment hunting a few weeks ago left me with a desire to spend an evening in a sports bar watching the Netherlands play Serbia in the finals of the European Under-21 Football (Soccer) championship. But, in stumbling upon a bar near the station with a sportive name, I stumbled into not a sports bar—but a temple to the much worshipped and difficult to translate Dutch concept of “gezelligheid”.

There are a number of ways to translate gezelligheid, none of which convey the meaning and significance of this term. The dictionary says gezelligheid is “coziness”, my personal experience, as described below, focuses more on a closed kind of conviviality.

I stumbled into the bar, expecting to see big screens and orange-clad locals gathering to cheer the native side onto a home-pitch victory over a nation whose former leaders were currently being tried a few minutes up the road in The Hague. But nooooo! The TV was off for the run-up to the match. Instead, the sound system was playing ultra-kitschy Dutch-language tunes which some of the locals were singing to.

My arrival was met with quizzical looks, for I had committed yet another fashion faux pas that I remained unaware of until disrobing, alone (alas) upon my return home. But when I said “is that Rob De Nijs”, a local woman said “of course not, that’s Andre Hazes…(then, with heartfelt astonishment) how do you know this?” (The two are longtime kitschy Dutch-language pop stars, the latter recently deceased).

My tale of how I collected Dutch-language CDs and listened to them relentlessly to support my two years of Dutch study at Washington’s Belgian Embassy intrigued the locals, and suddenly a small glass of Heineken arrived at the bar in front of me, along with a smile from one of the patrons. I then attempted to actually speak in Dutch, but while the bravery of my efforts was noted, the locals decided they would spare themselves my stilted vocabulary and somewhat lenient interpretations of the rules of Dutch grammar.

More little beers flowed; I returned the kindness by ordering little Heinekens for much of the throng, the tininess of the beers allowing modest generosity to be distributed more widely than usual. The logic on the size—beer has no time to get warm in a small glass, and two little glasses approximate a US pint at the same price.

As the music continued, a wide ranging conversation about America and the NL ensued, with one fellow with Elvis-style hair expressing a lifelong desire to visit America, while I expounded on the benefits of universal health insurance and a relatively comprehensive rail system. George W. Bush was mentioned, and I shifted the conversation without engaging in the ritual denunciation of him or the Iraq War that the subject’s mention to an American here generally anticipates. Still, in a bar full of passionately working class Netherlanders, the quality of political discussion was more than adequate relative to that conducted by American college graduates. Even considering media bias, the Dutch I have found in all strata are extremely well informed.

As kickoff approached, the TV was turned on, and the warblings of Rob De Nijs, Andre Hazes, et al, were banished for the next two hours. The conversation continued during the match, but the beer continued to flow, depriving you of any sentient recollection of the chatter. As a tight match evolved into a hearty pummeling of the Serbs by the Netherlanders, an air of anticipation set in. 2-0, 3-0, 4-1…

The “Young Orange”, so named for the beloved color of the nation’s even-more-beloved monarchy, had won the title on home ground, earning a second such title for coach Foppe de Haan, a white-haired fellow who had plied his trade for many years at the far-flung Frisian outpost of Heerenveen before taking the national youth side and was for the first time being discussed as a serious candidate for the senior team coaching role. The parallel in England would be Dario Gradi of Crewe as the Coach of England. In America, the parallel would be the late legendary Olympic ice hockey coach Herb Brooks.

The commanding win by Jong Oranje prompted raucous celebrations in the bar for the next half hour, as I found myself arm in arm with the patrons singing “We Are The Champions”, and humming to a ghastly Andre Hazes cover of Auld Lang Syne called “Wij Houden Van Oranje”, which means “We Love Orange”. Stunningly, the locals thought the song—and melody--was original! As the celebration retreated back to the NederKitsch Top 1000, I gracefully said my “goede avonds” and headed for the station. But I left with an actionable definition of “gezelligheid”.

Destination Delft

I am pleased to inform you that I now have secured a flat in Delft, a scenic and historic community situated between The Hague and Rotterdam. I will be moving in on August 1, and will be in a position to accept visiting guests—especially those from the US and the UK—shortly thereafter.

The flat is fully furnished and fairly deluxe. It is a loft one-bedroom, with the bed raised on a platform above an office and sitting area. It lacks a dishwasher and dryer, but since European models of such appliances tend to suck, I’m not comprehensively bothered.

The flat also has a sofa bed, so for visits, I’ll give couples the bedroom and I’d take the sofa bed; for singles, the sofa bed should be quite adequate.

Delft is located on the main NL train line, about 15 mins each to The Hague and Rotterdam, about 50 minutes to Schiphol airport and 65 minutes to the heart of Amsterdam. Dutch rail fares are reasonable, and Delft station is one of a handful of stations that has 24 hour services to all of the major Dutch cities, including on nights and weekends. The apartment is about a 15 minute walk to the station.

If you’d like to come visit, drop me an e-mail, or submit a comment below.

Dutchman of the Month

Finally, I’d like to award the title of Dutchman of the Month to Hendrik Jonkers of BeHome Makelaars. I first met Hendrik in Delft on a bright June evening. What was startling was that he may have been the only estate agent working in the Netherlands that evening. By being right where I was standing when I needed a realtor, he found a couple of places for me to visit—one of which I found so breathtaking that I wanted it immediately. While many complain about customer service in this country, Hendrik has provided real service when it counted—even shepherding me to the ATM machine to make sure my deposit could be transported safely. For outstanding customer service, Hendrik has my vote for Dutchman of the Month.

Tune in in August for the next leg of FlightKL18!