Scheveningen

With the lazy days of summer rapidly coming to a close, Holland has decided to lift up their windows, throw down their umbrellas and enjoy some sunshine. Ok, let me describe this another way….. It’s HOT!!!

When we moved to The Netherlands last summer, I was shocked to learn that my new home did not have air conditioning. But, moving from Texas, I was pleasantly surprised with the cooler rainy weather so I thought air must not be needed. I even had the fireplace going once or twice and seriously considered turning on the heater.

Then with the arrival of my new car, I pleasantly called the car dealer one day to have him explain to me how to turn on the air in the car. “Oh, you don’t have air. It’s a convertible so just put the top down.” Say What?! This Texas girl likes her air. What if it’s raining and it’s hot outside? What if it’s late at night and I don’t want the top down? What if I’m driving on the highway and don’t want to feel the wind in my hair at 130kph? What if?... Oh, ok I’ll deal with it.

So after sufficiently working on my best Holland tan driving around in my car, and melting in the process, we decided to take a little trip to the beach.

The North Sea runs along the west coast of Holland with a glorious beach in Den Haag or more specifically Scheveningen.

Last year, when we arrived, on day two or three we had to take the drive the Den Haag to the immigration office. There they gave me my official temporary Visa. To my disappointment, this was not a credit card! On the way home, we decided to stop in Scheveningen to say hello to the North Sea and enjoy lunch at the beach. There were so many nice restaurants and shops right on the beach. It was the perfect place to enjoy the afternoon.

I’ve wanted to write about Scheveningen for a long time but made a promise to myself that I would not until I could properly pronounce the name. This past week my daughter and I went with friends to the beach which gave me several opportunities to practice the Dutch pronunciation of the word Scheveningen.

During World War II the pronunciation of this sea side village was a way to tell if someone was German or not. The Germans had difficulty saying this word. They couldn’t pronounce the sch, so it was used as a shibboleth to detect if a person was the enemy.  

My neighbor Rob was born in Scheveningen and I asked him for some words of wisdom on his birthplace. Rob says…..

The seaside resort Scheveningen is a part of Den Haag/The Hague. The people who live in Scheveningen feel strongly Scheveningers and not an inhabitant of The Hague.

It is an old fisher village. You can see in the old part sometimes women still dress in costume but that is dying out. 

The beach is very popular and beautiful. The city is busy making the boulevard greater so you can cruise with your convertible, if you have one! 
The most impressive building you find at the beach is the Kurhaus hotel (www.kurhaus.nl) where you can live like a big spender. 
A very big attraction is De Pier (www.pier.nl) You can’t leave Scheveningen without visiting the Pier. A long concrete building far in the North Sea where you can walk, and where you find some restaurants, little shops, a casino and bungee jump. 
Also along the beach there is an interesting aquarium (www.visitsealife.nl) where you can pet stingrays and starfish.
A few minutes away from the beach by foot you can find the AFAS-theatre (www.afascircustheater.nl) from Joop van den Ende, the man from the impressive international musicals in Holland. He created par example the musical The Lion King.

When you have some time left, you can visit the museum Panorama Mesdag (www.panorama-mesdag.com). It is a painting like a cylinder 14 meter high and 120 meter long.

Furthermore there is Madurodam (www.madurodam.nl ): the smallest town of The Netherlands, full of very small copies of important Dutch buildings. The Dutch queen Beatrix was the first mayor in 1952. In 1980 when she was crowned she gave up this job. She is now patron and the mayor is a chosen child of the youth-town council.
The queen lives in The Hague, (http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beatrix_der_Nederlanden ).

The Scheveningers have some traditions: 
On the 1st of January, also in winter a lot of people run into the ice-cold sea to celebrate the New Year.
Another tradition is the big beach firework at 12 o’clock, the start of the New Year. In May/June the first haring comes in. This first barrel herring is auctioned and the proceeds go to charity (this year € 95.000,--) The Dutch like to eat the herring raw with chopped unions.

As for my pronunciation of the word Scheveningen, I asked Rob….ska va ning a.... I'm sounding that out. Is that correct?

 Rob says.. it’s more like… CHevrolet but before CH an S and after CH a roufh G at the back of your mouth. As if you have a cold. Ahhhh I might need to work on that a bit more.

My friend Nico is also from Scheveningen. Born right after the war and raised playing and fishing in the sea. He says he’s a Schollenkop, a nick name for someone from Scheveningen. Sounds like a wonderful thing to be.

A beautiful day in Scheveningen, absolutely!

To my friends Nico and Rob, thank you so kindly for always helping me here in The Netherlands, and to their beautiful wives, for putting up with these funny men.

My blog about the blog

My blog is about 50 people away from having 10,000 hits. That may not be a lot to some people but for me it's amazing. Almost a year ago a friend encouraged me to blog what I was posting on Facebook... now I have 2 expat groups that feature my blog and a local magazine has asked me to write for them. I am beyond shocked. Several travel sites follow my blog and my Pinterest. I’m not sure if I’m writing the right stuff, I’m just trying to write for myself, my family and my friends. But along the way, others can enjoy the ride as well if they wish.

Every day here is pretty normal but also pretty amazing. Take for example today. Just a random day that my daughter and I decided to go “Back to school” shopping. But we went to Antwerp. Going to Antwerp requires us to leave The Netherlands and travel to Belgium. I do get pretty excited whenever the lady on my GPS tells me…”You have crossed the border.” But as we’re in the Euro zone now.. There are no checkpoints at the borders. It’s like driving from State to State.

Thought I’d share some of my favorite stories I’ve posted this past 10,000 hits. These are in random order…

Excuse me Sir do you Bark English? 
http://americangirlinholland.blogspot.nl/2012/07/excuse-me-sir-do-you-bark-english.html 

The Bear Pit
http://americangirlinholland.blogspot.nl/2012/06/bear-pit.html

Stolpersteine
http://americangirlinholland.blogspot.nl/2012/06/stolpersteine.html

Pajama Day has officially been canceled!
http://americangirlinholland.blogspot.nl/2012/04/pajama-day-has-officially-been-canceled.html

Forever Young
http://americangirlinholland.blogspot.nl/2012/02/forever-young.html

I’m always amazed to see who’s reading my blog. I am very thankful to my friends and family for reading what I have to say but find it fascinating and very humbling that so many across the world are tuning in.

So to the next…. Few readers on my way to 10,000… I hope you enjoy. I’ve had a wonderful time finding this new joy in my life

Pistol Packing Mama

It seems in life we all have people around us that have positively touched our lives in some way. Some people come into our lives briefly and others for a lifetime. This past week, Sarah, one of my best friends throughout my life came to visit me here in The Netherlands. I cannot explain how special it is for friends and family to come here to visit. This connection is something my family needs and I’m sure other expats do as well. As an expat you are sent thousands of miles away from the people you love. So to have them with you even if for a short time is wonderful. And this visit was full of lifetime memories.

As Sarah and I settled into our routine as we always do…. Coffee, wine, laughing and a continuous game of Dummy Rummy that has lasted for 30 years, we began to talk about the history of the area. World War II events happened all over this area. Just like when you’re in the North East in America and remembering the American Revolution or in the South and remembering the Civil War, it’s difficult to be in a place like The Netherlands and not pay respect to the victims and the hero’s that emerged from WW II. We are both “Fly by the seat of our pants” kind of girls. Not really needing an agenda but only the knowledge that we will be together and will have fun!

I’ve developed my very best “Julie the Cruise Director” agenda, picking out places for friends and family to visit and finding fun memories for them to take back home with them. We went to Belgium, the Kinderdijk, all over Eindhoven, biking, shopping and ended with a fun day in Amsterdam. But along the way we did something else.

We always, always, talk about the love of our parents and how much we miss her mother and my mom and dad who have all passed. And we always talk about Sarah’s dad, Al Stanwood.

Al and Jean Stanwood

Sarah’s dad is one of those people, who have always been a very special presence not only in his own children’s lives but in mine as well. I grew up two houses away from the Stanwood’s. Immediately Sarah and I became best friends and grew inseparable. Many nights and days were spent at the Stanwood home and at their country home or Prop as they called it. Sarah’s sisters Marion and Susan, would usually join us playing with Barbie’s, Legos, cards, board games, ping pong, tents, swimming, all things and everything kids love to play with. Their older brother Al, was already off to school. Throughout this time, Mr. and Mrs. Stanwood were both there guiding us, feeding us (memories of the best spaghetti ever!!), driving us around and keeping us out of trouble. Always a cheerful safety post in the background of our childhood lives.

Mr. Stanwood was a pilot for General Motor’s company for 30 years. As a child, Mr. Stanwood was there, then he’d be gone, then he’d be back again. Just short trips off to work... then back to watch over his beautiful family. He retired early and as he had had his children later in life, he was able to enjoy most of their high school years cheering from the crowds as his girls swam for their local club teams and high school team.

But this week, with Sarah and I surrounded with the history of World War II our discussion led back to the early years of her father, before he had children and a family. It’s funny how even as adults, it’s difficult for us to think of our parents as young adults, with lives that didn’t include us, that didn’t revolve around the lives of their children, a life that led him as a young man off to a war that was far away from home. A life in my opinion, A Hero!

World War II… Enter a kid from Providence, Rhode Island. A 21 year old graduate from Bryant College sent off to fight a war in the South Pacific, far from his family and friends. 

He flew a plane called the Pistol Packing Mama in the 22^nd bomb group. He flew 93 missions with only 15 of those not being shot at by the enemy. Several of those missions were against Japan’s flying ace Saburo Sakai. Mr. Stanwood also flew in the controversial mission where Lyndon B. Johnson allegedly won his Silver Star for bravery. LBJ’s plane never made it into the battle, but the Pistol Packing Mama was there! 

Mr. Stanwood received two Distinguished Flying Crosses, a decoration awarded for heroic or extraordinary achievement while on aerial duty. After the war was over Mr. Stanwood was chosen to fly General Curtis LeMay around the world. He later went on to work and fly for GM. He married the love of his life, Jean, and together they raised 4 beautiful children.

The man I knew as a child was “Sarah’s Dad” or Mr. Stanwood. He was a calm, peaceful, God loving, family man, and still is. At 93 years of age he is still as beautiful inside as he is out. Mr. Stanwood has served his country proudly, been a pillar of his church and community in Plymouth, Michigan and above all a loving husband, father and grandfather. 

The Stanwood Grandchildren

If that’s not the definition of a hero, I don’t know what one is. I’m proud to call Mr. Stanwood not only a mentor in my life but also my friend.

I can still hear him singing “Shave and a haircut…. Two bits!”