Half Naked Dutch Men

My day began three hours later than it had every other day for the past week. Opening week at the JVE had finally come to a close. So rather than getting up at 7 am, we slept until 10. Though we'd been here for a week, I've been so busy with JVE activities that I still hadn't had a moment to look around. My plan was to take the day off from work and to see some of the city. Little did I know that I would end up getting to see a lot more than I had bargained for.

We are still in temporary digs, so we began the day by going to see an apartment. Keith had set up an appointment for us to see a place two and a half kilometers outside of the city center. The apartment was still occupied, so he'd spoken with current tenant to arrange a time. During their conversation, the tenant had emphasized that it was important that we not come by the apartment early in the morning. Apparently he had told Keith that he would be out late drinking with his friends and he had stressed that it was definitely going to be a late night.

We decided to walk rather than take the bus since we still haven't figured out the bus system, setting out at 11:30. The walk was a little precarious due to residual ice on the sidewalk, along with plenty of dog shit that was gradually surfacing as the ice thawed (we have plans to institute "curb your dog" signs). Aside from that, we found the apartment without too much trouble. The current tenant buzzed us in and let us look around.

The apartment itself, was a total disaster. There was junk everywhere. It wasn't just messy or cluttered, it was a complete wreck. The space itself was fine, it just needed a bulldozer to clean it out. The tenant, however, was totally unabashed. He greeted us in a very friendly way and "showed us around" the studio.

Evidence from the previous night's debauchery abounded. The tenant's friends were all still in the apartment and all of them had obviously just gotten up. Moreover the tenant had obviously not yet had a chance to clean himself up, so to speak. The sound of singing from behind closed doors suggested that one of his friends had beat him to the shower. Despite his disheveled state, he was garrulous. Since moving to Maastricht, we have discovered the difference between the Dutch and the American conversations between strangers. In America, the transaction is modeled for maximal efficiency: a streamlined exchange of information takes place with minimal expression of extraneous details. In the Netherlands, this style is much too abrupt. It is in fact impossible to break off a conversation at what would be its natural point of termination in America. If you make the attempt, the Dutch person with whom you're conversing will then repeat everything that has been agreed upon once again. While this is generally endearing, it is less so when your interlocutor has not yet had a chance to brush his teeth.

We stood around in the space for about 10 minutes, since given the size of the place, there wasn't a whole lot of looking around that needed to be done. During that time the tenant and his friend sprawled on the couch answered our many questions both about the apartment but concerning Maastricht more broadly. We were about to leave the apartment when the third member of the previous nights festivities unexpectedly emerged from the bathroom. He strutted out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of tiny blue tighty "whities." Of course he insisted on greeting and introducing himself to us. He was completely nonplussed, obviously enjoying the effect that he'd created. At that point, we decided that we'd seen enough for one day.