The other day, I met a Swedish friend of a friend. I introduced myself, and, about five or ten minutes later, the Swede asked me, “Are you Dutch?”.
I might have put this down to a minor anachronism, if this Swede hadn’t been the fourth person to think that I was Dutch. Here is a breakdown of nationalities people have guessed I am, as well as I can remember:
- Dutch (4)
- British (2)
- Canadian (2)
- American (1)
- French (1)
- “Rhodesian” (1, an elderly gentleman who later used the term “Red Indian”)
It makes sense to me that I’d get a rather inflated number of British guesses. Although I have an American accent, the vast majority of English-speaking expats in Stockholm, as far as I can tell, seem to be British. The Canadian guess makes sense because I think it is the default guess for speakers of North American English… because Americans seldom get miffed at being called Canadian, but sadly, I think the converse might not be true. The French guess came on the subway when I was carrying a French book, so that makes sense too. Rhodesian seems to be just a blip on the screen.
Dutch, however, I cannot explain. There does seem to be a fair amount of travel between the Netherlands and Sweden, both for business and for leisure, but that doesn’t seem to quite cover it.
So I thought that perhaps I remind people of some Dutch stereotypes. My stereotypes of Holland mostly have to do with windmills and clogs, neither of which figures significantly in my quotidian life. Fortunately, the magic of the internet was able to help. I was able to discover two main stereotypes (according to Wikipedia, anyway. I can’t say as I was familiar with either of them). Apparently, Dutchies (is that a word?) are seen as being both hardworking and rather thrifty. (Hence the expression, “going Dutch” on a date). True as those might or might not be about me, I don’t think that someone would be able to determine my industriousness or my thriftiness within five minutes of meeting me.
So with my most recent Swede, I decided to go ahead and ask why he thought I was Dutch. His answer?
“You obviously don’t speak Swedish, because you are talking to me in English. And your English is pretty good, but I don’t think it’s your native language. So I assumed you were Dutch.”
Ouch.
Maybe I’ll go back to Rhodesia.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
At least Vesuvius didn't cancel any flights...
Dear Iceland,
I’m afraid that I must take this occasion to shake my fist at you and all your frozen brethren. You have now moved to the position of my third least favorite country after Azerbaijan (because I feel like a moron for being unable to spell it) and the UK (because I can’t vote there, despite being a citizen, and because their ridiculous spelling has led to the word “favorite” being underlined with an angry red squiggle).
Now we know that you’re a bit miffed at being relegated to the Arctic circle where month-long-nights and angry polar bears plague your existence, but a volcano was not the solution. Admittedly this is the most press your tiny nation has received since you went bankrupt last year (Oh yes, we still remember), but couldn’t you have put the collective effort of your twelve citizens toward something constructive? Like building a barn, perhaps, or removing all the unnecessary consonants from your language?
Which brings me to another point. Iceland, we know that you’re miffed at the EU for not bailing you out when you went bankrupt (perhaps because you refused to join the EU when you had the chance? Oh yes, we remember that too), but did you really have to take it out on the poor news anchors who were forced to pronounce the word “Eyjafjallajökull” on television every time they wanted to discuss the volcano? I mean, Japan’s volcano is named “Fuji”, for goodness’ sake!
But Iceland, the reason I am most miffed at you and your volcano-ey antics is because you cancelled my flight to Berlin. I had been looking forward to this trip to Berlin for weeks, months even! Now I will never have a chance to use my most excellent German, including such touristy gems as “Ich möchte bestalle ein Sacher Torte” (“I would like to order a Sacher Torte”) and “Ich spreche molto bene Deutsch” (“I speak very good German”, although not entirely in German) and “Ich bin schwanger!” (“I’m pregnant!” Very useful for cutting to the front of queues). I will never have a chance to gaze upon the remains of the Berlin Wall, eat wirklich sauerkraut with wirklich schnitzel or to see whether Real Germans look like this:
Anyway, when I arrive in Iceland (“Ïjsläyndjjjfzq” in Icelandic) next July on my transatlantic voyage home, I assure you, Icalanders, I will have some stern words for you. In fact, I would go so far as to add you to the list of countries America really ought to invade, after Iran, North Korea, and Wales. (I’ve overheard rumours* from the American embassy. Be prepared)
*I’m sorry, American spelling! I just couldn’t bear to look at the angry red squiggles any longer! My heart still belongs to you!
Sincerely,
Katie Roe
I’m afraid that I must take this occasion to shake my fist at you and all your frozen brethren. You have now moved to the position of my third least favorite country after Azerbaijan (because I feel like a moron for being unable to spell it) and the UK (because I can’t vote there, despite being a citizen, and because their ridiculous spelling has led to the word “favorite” being underlined with an angry red squiggle).
Now we know that you’re a bit miffed at being relegated to the Arctic circle where month-long-nights and angry polar bears plague your existence, but a volcano was not the solution. Admittedly this is the most press your tiny nation has received since you went bankrupt last year (Oh yes, we still remember), but couldn’t you have put the collective effort of your twelve citizens toward something constructive? Like building a barn, perhaps, or removing all the unnecessary consonants from your language?
Which brings me to another point. Iceland, we know that you’re miffed at the EU for not bailing you out when you went bankrupt (perhaps because you refused to join the EU when you had the chance? Oh yes, we remember that too), but did you really have to take it out on the poor news anchors who were forced to pronounce the word “Eyjafjallajökull” on television every time they wanted to discuss the volcano? I mean, Japan’s volcano is named “Fuji”, for goodness’ sake!
But Iceland, the reason I am most miffed at you and your volcano-ey antics is because you cancelled my flight to Berlin. I had been looking forward to this trip to Berlin for weeks, months even! Now I will never have a chance to use my most excellent German, including such touristy gems as “Ich möchte bestalle ein Sacher Torte” (“I would like to order a Sacher Torte”) and “Ich spreche molto bene Deutsch” (“I speak very good German”, although not entirely in German) and “Ich bin schwanger!” (“I’m pregnant!” Very useful for cutting to the front of queues). I will never have a chance to gaze upon the remains of the Berlin Wall, eat wirklich sauerkraut with wirklich schnitzel or to see whether Real Germans look like this:
Anyway, when I arrive in Iceland (“Ïjsläyndjjjfzq” in Icelandic) next July on my transatlantic voyage home, I assure you, Icalanders, I will have some stern words for you. In fact, I would go so far as to add you to the list of countries America really ought to invade, after Iran, North Korea, and Wales. (I’ve overheard rumours* from the American embassy. Be prepared)
*I’m sorry, American spelling! I just couldn’t bear to look at the angry red squiggles any longer! My heart still belongs to you!
Sincerely,
Katie Roe
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