Today Christian’s Oma came with him to his Dutch class. He had told his teacher about his Oma and was so proud of her and wanted her to come to class. Today she came to chat for 15 minutes, which actually turned into the entire period. Everyone enjoyed her company and her story and there were so many questions.  There were so many connections and feelings and it felt like no one wanted to leave.

My mom was born in Holland and moved to the United States when she was 13 years old, the same age as most of the Grade 8 students. She moved with her parents and 9 brothers and sisters, looking for a better life in America. They had to leave their home and friends and grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles and friends and culture and routine and language and traditions. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t have a choice.  She always wanted to move back home to Holland, but she wanted to be with her family, more than she wanted to be back in her Homeland without them. At 18, she had the choice to move back, but by then it was too late, and all her friends had moved on without her. It was different and she didn’t belong there anymore. But her heart still longed for what she remembered.

Listening to her story, made me feel sad for her. I know a couple times she wanted to cry, and so did I. I felt her connection to her roots – her language, her country, her people. She said when she’s in the States and she’d hear Dutch being spoken, she would introduce herself to strangers, saying that she spoke Dutch too – she wanted the connection, to be seen, and to fit in.  I know I feel the same way here – I love to hear Americans in Holland – I feel an instant connection. Not that English isn’t spoken here, but it’s different. It’s wonderful to be able to communicate, but it’s a different cultural connection, that feeling of home, that I love too.

One of the girls that is in Christian’s class moved here from Mexico with her 3 siblings. She didn’t speak Dutch or English when she arrived, and she and her sister didn’t ride bikes.  I could see the sparkle in her eye, listening to my mom’s story and hearing and feeling the connections.  Another girl came from Indonesia, but hadn’t lived there since she was 6 – having lived in Singapore and Thailand before moving to Holland.  One girl came from Spain. She talked about the difference in times when their family eats compared to those in Holland. Most people would sleep in and have lunch at 2 pm, dinner at 10 pm. They are now having dinner a little earlier, at 8 pm. They are adapting.

One girl came from Washington. Here, her family has decided not to have a car and ride their bikes every where. I love them. I loved how her family parked their bikes on the Trunk or Treat trail and handed out candy from their bike saddle bags. I love how she told us that her mom goes to the grocery store every day, and loads up her bike and backpack with groceries.

We’re all adapting and changing and adapting, every day and it works. We like our new home and our new friends yet still miss our old home, friends, family and neighbors. I’m so glad that Oma and Opa are with us for a while longer.  I hope you’re doing well too, adapting and changing with whatever life brings your way.

Namaste.