This past weekend, we added to our Dutch visitor list! Three lovely gentlemen flew in from Amsterdam for a quick tour through Oxford and London. Job, Huib and Alexander (half Yank!) arrived on Saturday arvo. We took them on a scenic tour of our exciting town (it took all of about seven minutes) and then I cooked them their first ever taste of homemade Sloppy Joe’s!
After dinner, we headed to our local pub, where we had the most culturally enlightening and entertaining conversation I’ve had in quite a while. I learned how to curse like a Dutchman!
In Dutch culture, words like f*ck and c*nt are perfectly acceptable. I know, right. Casually dropping the f-bomb is a habit of Joost’s that I was quick to nix. Because they’re English words, they hold very little meaning when interspersed into Dutch conversations.
Oh c*nt, I can’t find my keys!, your boss will say.
F*ck, did you see that today?, a mother might ask her children at the dinner table.
Apparently, dumb girls are referred to as skipping c*nts.
So I asked the boys, “obviously cursing in English isn’t a problem, but are there any super offensive Dutch curse words?”
I kid you not.
The Dutch have taken illnesses and diseases, many of which are no longer in existence, or are only found in the developing world, and turned them into dirty, vulgar terms.
CHOLERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, one might wail after stubbing their toe.
Do you have polio?!, you would ask a lazy bum.
Plague face is somewhat synonymous with calling someone an a-hole.
But the mother of all insults, something that you could never say in public or be forgiven for, is calling someone a cancer sufferer.
I guess we can all agree that cancer is a universal f*cking b*tch.
The next day, we went into Oxford and went punting again! Alexander was quite the skilled driver and successfully navigated us through the river and away from the trees (more than I can say for my own punting skills). Huib decided to feed the ducks leftover peanut butter sandwiches as we puttered along, and before we knew it, we had an entire flock of ducks eagerly eyeing our boat. Both the ducks and Huib got bolder until finally, a little ducking was ‘accidentally’ lured straight onto Job’s lap. It’s a bit hard to see, but we managed to snap a shot of Huib throwing the duck back into the water, while Job attempted to avoid the pile of poop the duck left us in panic.
We ended the wonderful day with a quick nap in the sunshine and dinner back at the local pub.
It was a great weekend and my cheeks are only just starting to recover from all the laughing we did!