I am half Dutch. My parents, they were Stoomers, emmigrated from Holland to the Seattle area in the 20’s. Grampa came ahead first. Gramma came over on a steamer ship with 6 kids under the age of 8. By herself. (I think they started out with 8 kids, but were down to 6 by the time they landed. Such is life.) They had three more kids once they got to the New Country. Mom was one of them. They were dirt poor dairy farmers, until the day they died, of overwork. There is a Stroomer Dairy farm paving block in the Pikes Place fish market in Seattle, down by The Docks.
My X came from Dutch background too. His father and uncle were raised in Holland.
With the Dutch, it’s either right or it’s wrong. There is no in-between, there is no compromise. And usually you are the one who is wrong…..even after after you’ve proven you are right you are still wrong. Everyone around them is an idiot.
They fight bitterly among themselves, but if they are threatened as a people they become an impenetrable fortress. They will kick your ass.
Mom went to visit relatives in Holland in the 80’s. She said they eat strange (to us) food, like sauerkraut on pancakes and mashed potatoes. She said that if there were no restroom available, they didn’t think twice about urinating behind a bush or a tree in public, even women, and there was no law against it.
They have this thing about windmills.
They hate the Germans with an unbelievable, demonic passion, especially those who went through occupied Holland in WWII. Don’t even THINK of suggesting that their language sounds a lot like German. Don’t do it if you want to live.
They’re opinionated, volatile, incredibly hard working and unbelievably tough. I mean, who else would even CONSIDER wearing WOODEN SHOES???? Yes, I’ve tried it! Hurts like hell! Mom said, “But, they wear really, REALLY thick socks.” Fine. Gimme my Converse back.
They have a lot of Indonesian blood running through them, due to Holland’s occupation in Indonesia, when ever that was. Those folks are referred to as “Black Dutch.” My mom is Black Dutch, but it wasn’t as pronounced in her as it was my sister, who was often asked if she was American Indian. My other sister and I, on the other hand, have blond hair and (I’ve been told) “startling” blue eyes.
My X had some serious Indoesian blood in him (his great grandmother was born there) and as a result my daughters look like Island Princesses (picture is 13 years old)
All of this may sound kind of negative, but they are not a soft, gentle people. These are people who waged a constant war against the ocean, literally stealing their land from the sea. They fought hard. Still do, I imagine, even with electricity and all. Which explains their thing for windmills.
And…they are seafarers. They messed with Indonesia, and the Dutch founded NYC…the area that is now known as Harlem, originally spelled “Haarlam.” ‘cause they gotta throw extra ‘A’s’ into all their words. Seriously. I don’t get it, but they do.
Fillisplick is Dutch for ‘dustpan.’ And I have a song I could sing to you in Dutch, but I won’t.
Other than that, I really don’t know a thing about them. But I’d sure like to say hi to your friend!! :)