A Day in Den Haag

First Posted on Oct 12, 2005

A day in Den Haag (Dutch for The Hague) from the Perspective of Rev Kev

One of the things I like most about the start of a day here is it is later than in the States. Kenny would argue about that because he is off to school sometimes before I am even up. But I am usually the first one in the office at Crossroads. Being a night owl, that is unusual for me. I get in between 8 and 9 and no one else shows up until 9:30 or later. But I am ahead of myself.

Breakfast almost feels American. A bowl of cereal, usually a granola type thing, a piece of fruit, maybe a piece of toast and a glass of juice. I can't find my favorite cereal - Honey Bunches of Oats - but the granola is good. If we have run out of fruit, not to worry. I simply take a different route to the office. Instead of walking straight down Bezuidenhoutsweg (I won't even try to type the pronunciation), normally a five minute walk, I cruise one block over to Theresiastraat, walk by a fresh fruit stand and buy a peach, plum or banana with my pocket change and finish breakfast on the way to work.

I have to say I really enjoy the walking or biking most places. The distances are not long. The break is invigorating. And with the type of rain we have had here, you can just wait a bit and the sun pops out and then you can get to your next place.

The office is well, an office. But if we have a meeting tea or coffee is a must. One very small cup and a biscuit (cookie/cracker type thing - really more of a large crumb). And only one of those, even if you are starving because it would be rude to have two. At my last place of ministry, put a large platter of cookies out and they are gone in two minutes. Here you'd toss the leftovers after two weeks.

I get to work in a cool Dutchy building. I know nothing of its history, or whether it even has one. But it is of typical Dutch architecture. My office has a tall ceiling, one big window, another small one and a nice damp smell they can't get rid of. The big window is funky in that it opens two ways. Turn the handle half way and it swings wide open on two left hinges. Turn the handle all the way and it opens from the top about six inches as a vent. The Dutch are clever with a lot of things like that.

Last week I was sitting in my office with my associate, Jack. All of a sudden out the big window a SWAT team van pulls up and stops. Out pile a dozen decked out officers with helmets, shields, the whole nine yards. They run from the back of the van and spread across the sidewalk and street in combat ready position. Jack kinda freaked. I couldn't get him out from under my desk. And there wasn't room for both of us. Then they started walking out of view. Just then we notice several more SWAT vans pull up.

Turns out it was a training exercise. We went out the door in Jack's office and there were people everywhere. I so wanted to get a picture of me standing with my hands in the air right in front of a row of them but no camera was to be found. You'll just have to picture it in your mind's eye.

Across the street from our office is The Haagse Bos, or The Hague Forest. Think of it as Central Park. (The Queen, Beatrix, lives there which is why we speculate the SWAT training was on our side street.) It is full of trails for biking and walking. It even has a few horse trails. There are open spaces with little lakes, a canal/river or two and lots of woods. When I want to pray or clear the cobwebs from my brain, I will scoot across the street and walk for a while. Some days Kathy will join me for a walk. Then I'll take an hour or so. We are finding it very important to be intentional about our marriage. It takes more work to be a good spouse in a strange culture than in your own. So we are trying to keep it an every day priority.

For lunch I will bring in leftovers or a sandwich. Or head back to Theresiastraat for something to make a sandwich. This little shopping street has all you need - a cheese shop that wreaks of cheese we'll never eat, a butcher, several fruit and vegetable shops, flower shops of course, and a couple of small grocery stores. The groceries can be a challenge. Sometimes you have to guess what kind of meat you are getting. But it is always fresh and good quality. If the produce is being sold by weight and not unit you have to weigh it and put a ticket on before getting to the check out. I found this out the hard way. People were rather annoyed that I was holding up the line, but I was having trouble understanding that the checkout girl was telling me to go over there and weigh it and get a ticket. I had previously shopped at a big store that weighed the stuff right at the scanner, just like in the States. Fortunately, the guy behind me recognized me for the ignorant newbie that I was and helped me out. Outside the store afterward we had a nice little conversation and he gave me some more pointers. Back to lunch. If I am feeling particularly indulgent I walk to either the fish and chips stand or the loempia (Filipino egg rolls) stand.

Both are very much my grease quota for the month and very much worth it.

Back at the office I fill my days with sermon prep, digging into the details of what our team is working on and planning for the growth of this spiritual community. I love it.

These days, after work I hop on a bike and bike over to our house. Currently I am assembling a bunch of Ikea furniture. I had no idea a headboard for a bed could come in a bunch of pieces. But Kari, Kristi and I are getting good at slamming stuff together. We should be in our place by this weekend. But you have heard that before.

Biking is great. You basically rule the road. The law is simple. Hit a biker, you're at fault. The locals have gotten used to and take advantage of this policy. I question the logic. I mean, even if a car driver is at fault I see the biker as a bit more vulnerable. The one thing I have yet to see is a biker defiantly flying down the wrong side of the road. But just about anything else goes. Many streets have separate bike lanes next to the sidewalk. We about got run over several times the first days here by bikers who did not like us pedestrians being in their lane. The funny thing is all they give you is a little ding of their bell. I have come to understand, however, that it means a bit more than a quick tap of a car horn. The ding is more of a polite middle digit.

The other night Kristi and I did a very Dutch thing. After a night of assembling furniture I gave her a ride back to Allmon's (our unbelievably patient and gracious hosts) on the back of my bike. There she was sitting sideways on that little flat watchamacallit-for-hauling-stuff with her ankles crossed looking like a Dutch girl out for a ride. We were a scene.

Every Sunday I bike to the church services because I go in earlier than my family. I score big points with the locals who see me. I just find it refreshing. But then again the weather has been fabulous.

The evening meal here is much later than the States. For us back home 6:00 was late. Here 7:30 or 8:00 is more normal. We are eating well. We have figured out how to enjoy our favorites like fajitas, lasagna and even homemade kung pao chicken. TV is not really a draw. But we have enjoyed popping in a movie a few times.

I hope that gives you a snapshot of our life here. Stay tuned for more in the days ahead.