Only a couple of days left to Christmas Eve, and after a few last, sun-drenched days in Rome, the city being completely indulged in the Christmas atmosphere, I got on a plane last Wednesday. Off to the Netherlands to spend the holidays with family and friends, as I always do. With an Italian panettone in my suitcase, as I always have. Well, ever since I have been living in Italy, that is.
It was rather noticeable that I had only just arrived. That very first day being back in the Netherlands, I am still in Italy with all my doings
Less than 24 hours after setting foot on Dutch soil, I found myself in a bridal boutique in the heart of Rotterdam. A friend who is getting married next summer had asked me to attend the first fitting of her dress, which I found a real honour. I had taken the train to the Rotterdam quite early that day, having arrived in the Netherlands only the evening before. And it was rather noticeable that I had only just arrived. That very first day being back in the Netherlands, I am still in Italy with all my doings. As if my whole ‘being’ is still tuned to the Italian frequency.
Somehow I still believe that whenever I get back to the Netherlands, I flawlessly mingle into daily life here. But that couldn’t be further from the truth
It’s something so odd. When I am in Italy, I do not realise how I slowly but surely consider life there, and everything that people do and say, as ‘normal’ and ‘the standard’. How the tiniest of habits – those daily things that I do without thinking – become more and more Italian. Somehow I still believe that whenever I get back to the Netherlands, I flawlessly mingle into daily life here. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Over this past year, my trips to the Netherlands have become shorter and shorter – they usually last only a few days – and my daily life has been spent in Italy. And that is definitely starting to leave its mark…
I automatically pulled out my phone, opened the Covid-check app, and obediently held up my QR code. The train conductor looked at me slightly puzzled
I had been on the train for quite some time already when the train conductor entered the carriage with a cheerful “Good morning, check please”. I automatically pulled out my phone, opened the Covid-check app, and obediently held up my QR code. The train conductor looked at me slightly puzzled. I saw the confusion on his face and immediately asked “Ah, you don’t need to scan this?”, to which he replied “Did you take a bicycle?”. “A bicycle?”, I repeated his words in surprise, “but this is my Green Pass”. “Which pass?”, said the conductor now completely confused, but then he got it. “Ah, your QR code!”, he said. “My Green Pass!,” I replied. We exchanged another look of confusion but finally understood each other’s intentions. He came to check my public transport card, not my Green Pass, as would have been the case in Italy.
Not long after I realised that more and more fellow passengers seemed to be looking in my direction, with a somewhat irritated look on their face. Wait, this wasn’t a silence carriage, was it?
Luckily, everything was perfectly in order, and the train continued his path through the flat, green landscape of rectangular meadows separated by straight streams. I still find it fascinating how the water level of the stream is almost at par with the fields of grass. Ah, that famous Dutch landscape. I glanced at the window and noted with satisfaction that there were no “silence, please” stickers, as I had seen several messages coming in from Italian friends via Whatsapp. Voice messages that is, so commonly used in Italy. I dare to say that half of my digital communications with Italians are voice notes. I grabbed my phone and started listening to the minute-long messages. Occasionally I laughed out loud. However, not long after I realised that more and more fellow passengers seemed to be looking in my direction, with a somewhat irritated look on their face. Wait, this wasn’t a silence carriage, was it? No, it definitely wasn’t. But still. When I spoke to a friend about it that afternoon, she confirmed what I had already understood: when using public transport, listening to voice messages or watching videos without earplugs in is really not normal practice in the Netherlands and considered rather rude.
On the way back, I rummaged through my bag for my earplugs, while smiling as I let the thought of an average train or bus ride in Italy pass through my mind
On the way back, I rummaged through my bag for my earplugs, while smiling as I let the thought of an average train or bus ride in Italy pass through my mind: a nonna video-calling her grandchildren, who are shouting louder and louder because she has trouble understanding them, a middle-aged man unabashedly speaking to his mother on the phone – usually the only words he utters are “Si, mamma”, and “No, mamma” – teenagers showing each other one TikTok video after another, and the rest of the passengers either recording or listening to a voice message. And, of course, everyone turning up the volume in an attempt to drown out the background noise.
And just like these, there are so many other small, everyday things which are so different here and which strike me on my first day being back in the Netherlands after a while. The fact that people immediately look away if you accidentally cross their eyes in the train, whereas in Italy, they just stare back at you
And just like these, there are so many other small, everyday things which are so different here and which strike me on my first day being back in the Netherlands after a while. The fact that people immediately look away if you accidentally cross their eyes in the train, whereas in Italy, they just stare back at you until you feel really uncomfortable. Or how jovial and informal the train staff is in the Netherlands, while in Italy they announce the next station and check upon your Green Pass with the formality of an army commander. How there is hardly anyone using the smoking areas on the train platforms in the Netherlands, while in Italy people are rolling their cigarettes ten minutes before they arrive at the station and light them when the train still has come to a stop.
It occurred to me how the behaviour of people on a train is actually a fantastic reflection of a society as a whole. As if to understand a country and its people, you only need to take a train ride for a few hours and observe what happens
As I got off the train, it occurred to me how the behaviour of people on a train is actually a fantastic reflection of a society as a whole. As if to understand a country and its people, you only need to take a train ride for a few hours and observe what happens. Fascinating. By now, I have been in the Netherlands for five days already, and we’re only a few days away from Christmas Eve. And when it comes around, I will be fully tuned in to the Dutch frequency. Except when it’s time to slice the panettone, of course…