Green grass
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Marloes
02 Oktober 2019 | Nederland, Beverwijk
I used to have this blog. marloesherber.whereareyou.now (in Dutch obviously). This started when I studied and I did an internship in Kenya, my very first time in Takaungu. The stories are all still here, again in Dutch. I love writing, but in my busy life, I rarely do (unless now, for a university assignment!). My last blog I wrote was around the time I got pregnant and from there on life just got crazier. Well that is what I thought. But I have actually read some of my 2015 blogs and some pretty crazy things were happening in my life then. I guess I like it that way!
Anyway, I saw a TED talk about the importance of stories. And I realized once again that for my own processing and for other’s pleasure or learning of some sort, my story is important.
I have discovered something many people who have lived abroad (whether by choice or by force) have experienced before me: they will never completely fit in in the foreign country, nor will they feel at home in their country of origin. Apparently I have adapted enough to feel at home in Kenya, yet I am unable to completely emerge in the traditions and habits. And of course I look slightly different than someone with Kenyan ancestors and still get the ‘Jambo Kenya!’ thrown at me every now and then.
When you return to the motherland however, there is more feelings of not quite fitting in. The people, the culture and the things you thought make you you… Are suddenly no longer there. Yes, I look Dutch. I speak the language. But oh how things are different! My friends and colleagues in Kenya have always commented on (and appreciated) my ‘Dutchness’ – this meaning the direct and honest comments at any given point and answers to any question. I still receive WhatsApp messages asking for my opinion for that exact reason. Well, welcome back to Holland Marloes: directness is different here! Somehow I have acquired some tact and subtleness along the way, so it seems.
Another thing is complaining. The Kiswahili language has many words for problems, yet not many people complain; after all the Lion King motto remains ‘hakuna matata’ (which to be honest does not reflect the situation of the country, but at least it is optimistic). Here in the Netherlands people complain. Mainly about the weather. Which is not something anyone can change (unless I have missed another technological update like the one where it now scans your ATM card and I felt all hot and red and grandmothery when the lady behind the counter said ‘just place it on top’). Anyway it seems very pointless.
I have very much realized both complaining and experiencing the weather negatively are not natural processes. If I look at my children for example: they love playing in the rain, they want to wear their pink princess dress or favorite socks (well, speaking about socks and shoes and jackets, it is a real challenge to get those onto our barefoot tropical children), no matter the temperature. They do not fall down and complain the swing is mean, they get up (ok maybe they cry, sometimes even a lot) and try again – they don’t complain. Unless we teach them that there is something like ‘bad weather’, or we blame the fall on the swing. Anyway, my coping strategy for the change in climate is to not look at the weather forecast (which I never did in Kenya either) and just take it as it comes. And yes, I do always carry a rain poncho in my bag…!
Oh yes I was talking about complaining. Or am I now complaining about complaining? I’ll be honest: I am very scared I will slowly get dragged into the complaining culture… Even though this country has everything: there is excellent education, health care, rights and subsidies and also many many rules, but they somehow work. And people do not die of hunger here. The opposite is true: everything is for sale and a walk into any supermarket (we are two months in tomorrow) is way too overwhelming for this lady. Why? So many brands, products I have never heard of and things I have never seen in packages I do not even know how to open. Mshamba is the word my husband and I jokingly say to each other in these situations. Some things are so much cheaper and better here. Starting with cheese, bread, chocolate and pesto. Tuskys friends, you know what I am talking about! But finding a decent avocado is a mission and a half. And an expense! And I have not eaten a mango or pineapple in the last two months, but I won’t bore you with the other goods that I have consumed!
The other thing that is extremely crazy in my little families experience is being indoors. Like all the time. And for the twins that comes with a whole new challenge: using an ‘indoor voice’. For those who know them, you can just imagine…! It is making us all quite restless and therefore we just go outside and explore little local playgrounds, all the time! Everywhere. For free. How can you complain about that?! It is toto heaven here! And the warm showers, duvets and washing machines fix the cold wet things in life. Cycling everywhere is a joy. The girls can ride too! Looking out over endless green fields with fat cows (husband’s words) and water and skies, weird. We are in the flattest country of the world. Where I was born below sea level and where I feel like an alien right now.
It is ok and we will continue the mission. And I am dragging my husband into that twilight zone, he too may be lost in the near future. Knowing both countries, feeling at home but never completely at ease. I guess the grass is always greener...
Anyway, I saw a TED talk about the importance of stories. And I realized once again that for my own processing and for other’s pleasure or learning of some sort, my story is important.
I have discovered something many people who have lived abroad (whether by choice or by force) have experienced before me: they will never completely fit in in the foreign country, nor will they feel at home in their country of origin. Apparently I have adapted enough to feel at home in Kenya, yet I am unable to completely emerge in the traditions and habits. And of course I look slightly different than someone with Kenyan ancestors and still get the ‘Jambo Kenya!’ thrown at me every now and then.
When you return to the motherland however, there is more feelings of not quite fitting in. The people, the culture and the things you thought make you you… Are suddenly no longer there. Yes, I look Dutch. I speak the language. But oh how things are different! My friends and colleagues in Kenya have always commented on (and appreciated) my ‘Dutchness’ – this meaning the direct and honest comments at any given point and answers to any question. I still receive WhatsApp messages asking for my opinion for that exact reason. Well, welcome back to Holland Marloes: directness is different here! Somehow I have acquired some tact and subtleness along the way, so it seems.
Another thing is complaining. The Kiswahili language has many words for problems, yet not many people complain; after all the Lion King motto remains ‘hakuna matata’ (which to be honest does not reflect the situation of the country, but at least it is optimistic). Here in the Netherlands people complain. Mainly about the weather. Which is not something anyone can change (unless I have missed another technological update like the one where it now scans your ATM card and I felt all hot and red and grandmothery when the lady behind the counter said ‘just place it on top’). Anyway it seems very pointless.
I have very much realized both complaining and experiencing the weather negatively are not natural processes. If I look at my children for example: they love playing in the rain, they want to wear their pink princess dress or favorite socks (well, speaking about socks and shoes and jackets, it is a real challenge to get those onto our barefoot tropical children), no matter the temperature. They do not fall down and complain the swing is mean, they get up (ok maybe they cry, sometimes even a lot) and try again – they don’t complain. Unless we teach them that there is something like ‘bad weather’, or we blame the fall on the swing. Anyway, my coping strategy for the change in climate is to not look at the weather forecast (which I never did in Kenya either) and just take it as it comes. And yes, I do always carry a rain poncho in my bag…!
Oh yes I was talking about complaining. Or am I now complaining about complaining? I’ll be honest: I am very scared I will slowly get dragged into the complaining culture… Even though this country has everything: there is excellent education, health care, rights and subsidies and also many many rules, but they somehow work. And people do not die of hunger here. The opposite is true: everything is for sale and a walk into any supermarket (we are two months in tomorrow) is way too overwhelming for this lady. Why? So many brands, products I have never heard of and things I have never seen in packages I do not even know how to open. Mshamba is the word my husband and I jokingly say to each other in these situations. Some things are so much cheaper and better here. Starting with cheese, bread, chocolate and pesto. Tuskys friends, you know what I am talking about! But finding a decent avocado is a mission and a half. And an expense! And I have not eaten a mango or pineapple in the last two months, but I won’t bore you with the other goods that I have consumed!
The other thing that is extremely crazy in my little families experience is being indoors. Like all the time. And for the twins that comes with a whole new challenge: using an ‘indoor voice’. For those who know them, you can just imagine…! It is making us all quite restless and therefore we just go outside and explore little local playgrounds, all the time! Everywhere. For free. How can you complain about that?! It is toto heaven here! And the warm showers, duvets and washing machines fix the cold wet things in life. Cycling everywhere is a joy. The girls can ride too! Looking out over endless green fields with fat cows (husband’s words) and water and skies, weird. We are in the flattest country of the world. Where I was born below sea level and where I feel like an alien right now.
It is ok and we will continue the mission. And I am dragging my husband into that twilight zone, he too may be lost in the near future. Knowing both countries, feeling at home but never completely at ease. I guess the grass is always greener...
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02 Oktober 2019 - 22:51
Eva:
Hi Marloes,
Wat leuk om te lezen! En herkenbaar ;)
Succes met jullie missie in NL! -
02 Oktober 2019 - 23:15
Ellen Santen:
Wat leuk weer iets van je te lezen!
Veel geluk samen in Nederland! -
03 Oktober 2019 - 09:16
Sabine:
Prachtig geschreven Loes! XX -
03 Oktober 2019 - 09:17
Mwihaki Kahiga:
This has made my day.
You almost got complaining about complaining -
03 Oktober 2019 - 10:09
Peter Oud:
Mooi verhaal Marloes. Leuk om te lezen en om mijn Engels een beetje op te halen, wat volgens Stefan slecht is. -
03 Oktober 2019 - 10:38
Patty:
Mooi geschreven en leuk om te lezen -
03 Oktober 2019 - 12:49
Ton Faase:
Ha, die Marloes. Het is lang geleden dat we wat van je hoorden. Hoe gaat het nu met je? Hier is alles helemaal goed. Als je eens in de buurt bent ben je van harte welkom. Ik hoor het wel. Ik sta gewoon op FB en op Instagram dus een PBtje kan natuurlijk altijd. Krijg je meteen mijn telefoonnummer. Afijn, ik hoor het wel hopelijk. Veel plezier in Nederland.
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