Unloading the crates from the vessel was a time consuming task that lasted for over a day with us sitting on the dock waiting to move on with the luggage and hoping we had a warm place to sleep tonight that was free of rodents and water puddles. Weary, foul smelling and wearing week old clothes, the journey had landed us in the city of Haarlem, Netherlands, a small city ten miles from the capital of the country, Amsterdam. A blissful released sigh came over the two adults as they sighted a familiar face approaching them on the dock and as they engaged into a private conversation, the three minors knew the trek had come to an end and it was time to settle in a new setting surrounded by fresh water, stacked high apartments made of brick and windmills in the distance moving with the wind as it generates the power to drain the land and flatten or grind the corn into a powdery substance used for food for both men and animals.
Holland, the windmill world, is a flat piece of real estate once owned and conquered by the French, Spanish, Portuguese and many other foreign powers between the 10th and 16th century. It finally became a kingdom in 1865 and rose to become one of the world’s top economic and maritime power dominating in wealth and power. Better known as the Netherland today, it became home for the immigrants exiled from their island domain and left ashore a new and strange land with little or few relatives to contact or seek support from during their initial stages of homesteading this new segment of their lives. A soldier by profession, the father reported to his new assignment and endured the change well. His thin cotton blended tropical uniforms traded in for the wool and thickened stiff uniforms worn in this wind driven land with sub zero temperatures that last for months and created canals of ice covered trail ways, his only method of getting to work was on a bicycle he had bought upon arrival from a neighbor who had put it up for sale. Speaking seldom of his days as a prisoner of war, he was a quiet man who spoke very seldom with a voice which contained compassion or warmth. I guess being a prisoner for so long made his skin a little tougher than most as he did what he needed to do to survive on a bowl of rice a day and a handful of sparsely gathered vegetable. Still a bullet lodged in his leg from the war that would end all world wars, he never complained but it was no surprise in his latter years, he was watching the history channel, reflecting back to the Second World War events. The mother, an educated scholar with no preferred occupation, remained in the compact but warm apartment not too far from where the soldier worked. She kept the place clean as she assumed the new role of the housewife as she was never placed in such a position before as she came from a system where the caste levels dictated the role of servants for those who were wealthy or able to afford to pay for such services as maids, housekeeper or landscaper. Struggling to meet the new challenge of housekeeping and cooking for the clan, she began to take interest of new recipes as she learned how to cook the traditional meals served in our native land as well as the Dutch customs and favorites. A new addition to the staple was the potato and a few other produce that were rare and expensive on the islands from where she came. Sticking to her traditional Asian cooking, she mixed the meals up so we had a treat every now and then. Time passed and the soldier was relocated to another city where the government seat was and his role would be more important than once before. This resulted in our packing up our belongings as saying good bye to our new found friends and neighbors as the good fortune has allowed us to become a lot more self-sustained and grow as new family members as well as some of the old found a means to gather and collectively share their wealth and fortune as much as the opportunity permitted. The housewife’s father, once a rich and wealthy man, was stripped of his wealth he had so hastily liquidated and passed out this insurmountable amount of cash to his trusted both friends and family members before they boarded the ship with an oath or promise they would arrange to meet again and return the money to him upon arrival; hence, given the fact they carried a significant sum of cash, they disappeared into the new setting not leaving a word of concern behind. The growing up years were good as new friends and new family members created a circle of trust and as we enjoyed the stability our world gave us, we recognized the fact we were still better off than some other families as the soldier, our father, had been a solid provider and it was his guarantee there would be food and clothing, warmth and shelter for his family as long as he could provide for them the good things in life.
Needles to say, especially during the winter months, wrapped up with his shawl around his face and ears, he fought the wind and icy road surfaces as he struggled daily to ride back and forth to his job on that bicycle that had a most distinct bell ringer on it. Thinking this would be our final resting place, we attended the local schools and found friends whom we fraternized with before and after school as the community was both ethically and socially developed with refugees from Indonesia and other areas of the world where the Dutch colonial systems had failed and resulted in excommunication to their home country of citizenship.
Socialism is the staple of the Dutch society. The schools and government functions dominate every detail in your personal life. The markets are socially equal to all the other markets thus competition is rare and prices are high. Chicken and meat were commodities rarely enjoyed due to their expensive price as a meat and potato meal was obviously a luxury few could afford. Beans, fruits, vegetables and tofu were common and often prepped for the daily meals. Bread and milk were plentiful in this land of produce and honey. Stores rarely had sales and the selection of clothes were bland and not with much color as these dark winter months dominated the dress for cold climates rather than the warm climates experienced in those farther away from the Arctic Circle.
Swimming in the North Sea seemed extreme at times as the water was never warm and yet, the beaches were crowded every day of the week. Eating fresh herring fish cured in a salty juice, we often spend. Becoming a avid swimmer, it was a good skill to possess with all the water around those flat lands connected with numerous channels filled with boats and barges. Sensing the need to provide better opportunities for the children and wanting to improve their way of living, plans were made to travel yet to another land only this time it would be to seek freedom from the socialistic means of raising a family and better provisions for seeking a higher education and enhanced personal opportunities. This required deep thought for the father whose days as a soldier was nearing to an end with over thirty years of service to show for his success and determination to overcome all obstacles faced with so far. Late one night a family meeting took place and as the short wave radio volume was turned down and the lights flickered as the fireplace crackled with the wood brought up earlier from the basement of the apartment building, between the coals and wood, a voice spoke with all serenity and seriousness about our new plans to move to America.
No comments:
Post a Comment