Below Sea Level - Dutch Life Notes

Author: Yan Ni
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-11-01
Features: The performance has begun to celebrate this nuisance leaving China to cause trouble elsewhere. The day I left was overcast, but suddenly turned sunny with clear skies and gentle breezes, leaving my homesickness with nowhere to express itself. I left Pudong International Airport for Schiphol Airport in the Netherlands feeling quite unsettled.
During check-in, we encountered a small trouble that had us in a tizzy. This made my homesickness even worse because my single piece of luggage exceeded 30kg. The ticket agent said that Dutch baggage handlers don’t like handling oversized bags. It’s simply not fair! For someone of my stature (rumored to be the tallest in the world), they’re as delicate as a young girl—look at that frail attitude! What could we do? The handlers weren’t willing to move it, and when I offered to help, they wouldn’t let me. We had no choice but to redistribute some items from the suitcase. As someone who gives up easily when faced with difficulty, I superstitionally believed this was a bad omen and boarded the plane with heavy worries.
From today, I’ll be living in a country where more than half of its territory is below sea level. It feels like stepping into a pit, and I have no idea what to expect. My husband is going to the Netherlands for work for one to two years, and I’m tagging along to be his family nanny. We’re flying with KLM (Royal Dutch Airlines), with emphasis on the "Royal." As a country girl, I’m used to running barefoot between villages, but when I go into the city, I always dress up and pretend to be refined, riding in a fancy carriage—this is about face. So, if I’m not going abroad, I won’t go at all. If I’m not flying, I won’t fly at all. If I’m not choosing a flight, I’ll choose the Royal one.
My husband had never flown before and went straight to New York. In our family, we don’t make gradual progress—we leap forward in three steps when we decide to move. As a commoner, I suddenly got connected to the "Royal," and I wondered what kind of treatment I’d receive. For a moment, I felt like I was part of the aristocracy. I wished I could wear a ball gown and wave a small fan, or even put on a wig.
The flight attendants of KLM were all middle-aged, lacking grace or good looks, but they smiled with lots of wrinkles. My friend’s experience is that foreigners can’t tell age—the young look like the elderly. So, I tried to imagine them as young girls. I was surrounded by foreigners, which meant I was in their territory. As a country girl, I’m bold! I felt completely at ease, composed and elegant, giving Chinese people face. (Even though I was struggling to make my seat into a bed!)
My husband—my only relative—was immediately grabbed by an extremely enthusiastic German with a sharp smile and started chatting nonstop, drinking bottle after bottle. Haha, "Royal" is really generous—there were all kinds of drinks on the plane, all sold by the bottle, and you could choose whatever you wanted. The people in the back row started a drinking party, one bottle each, while those in the front row were face-to-face with the back, drinking from their seats. Other passengers didn’t mind standing up and moving around...