1 Year in the Netherlands
I had originally written an entry about the experience of living here in the Netherlands, but after reading it seemed a little dry, void of emotion and just a sequential retelling.
After some more reflection, I thought what would be more interesting to explore and expand on, is a particular experience and unpack from there.
So, here’s a slice of my life here…
You might be wondering how this relates to the post image. Here it is again:
Fuel Station - Haarlem, Netherlands
It’s not the best photograph I’ve taken, but it moved me so unexpectedly and deeply that I felt tears well up. I don’t cry often. It took me a moment to define and understand that reaction, and I’m still unpacking all that emotion a year later that then hit in a split-second.
I know homesickness is a common theme for those who have moved to new countries away from family, friends, and all they’ve known, but I honestly didn’t expect such a disconnect and a deep feeling of loneliness. There are so many seemingly insignificant small things that I miss that constantly remind me that this is not my home—at least not yet.
When I was around 15 years old, the fuel attendants working at my dad’s BP fueling station went on strike. My high school friend and I worked there servicing the patrons with petrol, washing windows, checking tire pressure, etc. It wasn’t great work, but we had fun, and I felt good contributing when help was needed. Prior to that, when I was around 10 years old, I remember sitting with steel wool scrubbing wheel weights till they shined. Again, it never bothered me doing it, and looking back those are quite fond memories. My dad has worked very hard his whole life to provide us with opportunities that he never had. My dad is my hero and I am forever grateful to him for all he has done.
About 2 months into our new life here in the Netherlands, one night I was feeling particularly low and decided to hop on my bicycle with my camera and ride into the night to try to shift my thoughts. With zero plan, intention, or awareness I took some photos. This is an example of the subconscious wanting to have a voice and I only really joined the dots and realized what I had later that evening. After an incredibly windy and cold ride trying to find something ‘beautiful’ to photograph, I gave up and decided to grab some warm food on my way back home. While sitting eating sheltered from the weather, I pulled out my camera and reviewed the mediocre photos I had captured, and paused on the photo of the fueling station. My eyes welled up and my heart felt heavy, but warm at the same time.
This may not make sense to others, but over thousands of kilometers from ‘home’, in a moment I made a connection and simultaneously felt sad, nostalgic, and hopeful all at once.
Since leaving South Africa my dad had to be placed into a care facility as he has dementia and there was a growing concern for his safety living at home. It has contributed to 2024 being the toughest year of my life and being so far away has amplified everything.
I remember looking at that photo of a random fuel station while eating some hot chips and the wind pumping on that cold night and something shifting inside me. I’m not saying all was suddenly great or even ok, but looking back it was therapeutic in some way. It reminded me to not close off to what I’m thinking or feeling. To not numb myself from feeling uncomfortable or unhappy, but face those feelings and work through them. This will likely still take me some time to process, but I feel a sense of hope that was previously dwindling. Remembering and missing doesn’t just feel painful, it can also be joyful. It is the evidence of love. It is the fuel for hope.