I believe
that growing up in one culture and living in another one has some advantages.
One of them is that you get to see the world from different perspectives. I
often feel enriched that I had the privilege to grow up on Curacao, a small
Caribbean island with a very strong social network and family structure.
Living in
the Netherlands I do miss this warm bath, but I love living in a big city. I
absolutely adore my city Rotterdam and am equally fond of other ports. I like
the rawness of harbour cities, as if there was no time to cover up or to put up
a face. It’s the nakedness of the cities that appeals to me the most: what you
see is exactly what you will get. There is no window dressing involved. There
is one thing though. I prefer to live near the ocean, no mather where I am.
Till date I managed to do just that, even in our years in Mumbai, India, I
could see (and smell) the sea from my flat.
Every
culture, every community, has their own rules and codes. Some may be written
down. Others implied. But they are
always there even, if you are not aware of them. If you are new to a culture it
is not easy to get a grip on these rules. Moving to a (over)-organized place is
easier. Most of the rules are probably written down and people are expected to
live by them all the time. A small community with less codification will still
have rules, but as most issues will sort themselves out automatically, these
will not always be set in stone. Even if the rules are there, this is not a
guarantee!
An
interesting example is the band playing in our neighbours garden on Curacao.
Growing up in the early eighties we all knew that during the months of January
and February the band of the brother of one of our nearby neighbours will be
practicing in their garden. The brother was one of the most celebrated “Tumba”
kings of Curacao, singing one after the other marching tune for the Carnaval
parades. He needed a place to practice and we got a life performance for 2
nights a week totally free of charge. A win-win situation I would say.
But then
new neighbours moved to our neighbourhood. They were Dutch and highly annoyed
by these evening music extravaganzas. So they complained to the police that
environmental law so-and-so does not permit music to be played after whatever
time etcetera. First the police did not even react. After a complaint was filed
against the police they came reluctantly to check out the situation. In the
meantime the new Dutch neighbours had looked up the appropriate law and
insisted that the police would intervene and make the music go away.
Unfortunately
for the new Dutch neighbours the situation was not resolved to their
satisfaction. The police explained to the new Dutch neighbours that they would
have to sit through it. It would make their lives easier if they were to try
and dance on the music and maybe invite some friends over for drinks. You see,
this man needed a place to practice and we would all gain from this as he will
probably come up with again a great tune for the Carnaval parade. This is only
during the two months a year. After February they can enjoy their poolside
drinks in complete silence. This is how things were done on my island. We live
and we let live.
Years have
gone by and many things have changed, even on my island. But last week -as I was
driving around on Curacao - my heart filled with joy because the essence of my
people is still the same. I approached a crossing without traffic lights where
during rush hour it is very difficult to get a chance to get on the main road.
In Holland you would have to wait until the road is completely empty to take
the turn, because those are the rules. But on Curacao everybody knows that this
is a difficult spot and the cars are given right way, even though they didn’t
have to. The rules are very clear, but are not obeyed because it worked better
this way for everybody. I love how this works out, at the same time I do
realize that this would not really work in a larger community. It could even
create unnecessary chaos.
Since we
are comparing I could not help wondering how this example would work out in
Mumbai. I believe that none of the traffic rules would matter and that all
cars, big and small, would just bunch up in the hope that they could make the
turn before the next guy. Off course we would try to fit as many cars as
possible in one lane and do keep in mind that there is no plausible reason why
one could not use the left side of the road while there is no approaching traffic!
But after
10 days of shere Carnaval joy on Curacao I returned back to Holland where my
other home is (and where my three men were waiting for me). As I was making my
way through the airport I passed the gate where the next flight to Mumbai was being
called out. I could not help but feeling a small itch at that moment. Looking
at all the people standing up to get in line, part of me wished I could join
them.
Home.
