Coming from Australia, yet having Dutch grandparents, I’m not a complete stranger to Dutch things. Growing up, we had Poffertjes, Stamppot, and Braadvlees (– not all at once! ). We had Krokets and Oliebollen between Christmas and New Years. I’ve had my fair share of chocolate sprinkles on bread for breakfast, and I even had a set of clogs to klomp around in at Oma’s house. The calendar behind her toilet door with everyone’s birthdays written down on it was completely normal to me. I had heard Opa use various colourful language in Dutch when things weren’t going right, and heard Oma say “weet je wel?” a hundred times on the phone to her friends.
However, when I visited The Netherlands for the first time, it was fascinatingly different. An amazing juxtaposition of familiar sounds and things in a strange environment.
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