1. It’s fantastic.

2. It fits in with design week here on newelty.
3. We were lucky enough to snag Genna’s time to do our own redesign of newelty after this was originally posted in February!

I spent today out in the bright sun on my Dutch bike. I was able to bike through downtown Seattle in weather so nice that it was warm enough to wear just my skinny jeans and my Little Edie tee–a revolutionary costume of the day in Februrary!

After ignoring the internets all day, I came home to see not only was one of my favorite sites Copenhagen Cycle Chic now also on Twitter, but that this artist, Genna Campton, had created the incredible illustration you see above as an homage to that site.

I now have a new goal for newelty, some day in the far, far future.

Admittedly, it’s a hard sell for those of us who don’t have a year to spend traveling around the world. A friend I talked to today had an itinerary that involved one day in Paris, two days in London, and two days in Scotland. There’s not a lot of breathing room in that plan for an afternoon spent in a swimsuit.

But here’s why it’s a good idea, and not just if you’re the kind of person who enjoys Hawaii. A trip to the beach in Europe is just as valid a sightseeing day as one spent at a museum. And if you need more rationale, here are five solid reasons:

1. Because if you ever went to the beach as a kid, this beach trip will be nothing like that.

Whenever I’ve visited a European beach, my novelty-meter is completely full by the time I leave. As a kid, I spent time in Ocean City, New Jersey, where boardwalks and hoagies were the big deal of the day.

It’s a little different to spend time on La Grand Plage of Biarritz, France, where elegant striped cabanas line the sidewalk:  

When I first saw them, I thought: These people know how to live. It just seemed so…James Bond-y, circa 1966.

2. Because every vacation needs a break in the action.

Personally, I don’t have any interest in taking a cruise. I’m snobby about all-inclusive vacations. I like to strike out on my own, figuring out bus and train schedules, and booking my own hotels.

But let’s be honest: That’s a lot of variables, and a lot of work. Experienced travelers enjoy building in some slack into their itineraries, and I agree with them. Even if it’s an overcast day at the beach, there’s still something interesting to see.

In a few short days, I’ll be on the beachy island of Texel (pronounced “tessel”), part of the same trip that includes a week-long Dutch language immersion at Dutch Princess School. A juxtaposition of intense cultural experience and laid-back beachtime seems like a nice balance. Plus, the cultural exchange doesn’t stop just because it’s a beach town: The hotel website offered to reserve bikes for me during my stay. How very, very Dutch.

3. Because the natural world is worth the time as much as the human-made world.

Appreciating natural beauty doesn’t come easy to me. I’m a city girl. But a windswept coastline with a rickety bridge is a charming, memorable site. I didn’t need the explanation to enjoy it, or to know the connection to the Eiffel Tower.

Living in the Pacific Northwest, I’ve had to adjust my idea of what a beach day is. Oftentimes, it doesn’t involve baking in the sun, but appreciating grey skies like the kind you see above, or in this photo I took in Mull, Scotland, as incredible to me as any cathedral or medieval castle I’ve ever been to.

4. Because you might be there for Bastille Day or another happenstance celebration–the kind where everyone else is on vacation, too.

I love museums, and have done the art slog, trying to scrape 10 hours out of quality art absorption out of a timed all-day pass. On my last visit to Versailles–number three, mind you, which might have taught me a lesson about the sheer size of the estate–a sightseeing stroll turned into a full-on death march in 90 degree heat.

In Biarritz, I was lucky enough to be there for Bastille Day. Everyone around me was enjoying the fireworks and the time off work. It was cheerful in the way that national holidays, summer festivals, and other relaxed, warm-weather nights can be. No one was carrying a map, a guidebook, or an agenda. Instead, an entire town of people settled in to watch the fireworks:

That travel memory means more to me than rooms full of Dutch Masters I saw at the Louvre.

5. Because wherever they are in the world, beaches are some of the most beautiful, fun places on earth.

The hotel might smell of smoke or be too loud for your liking. The lines at the museum might keep you standing in the hot sun for an hour longer than you liked. The other museum you meant to see might be on the far side of town, and closed on Tuesdays. The restaurant might put too much salt on your food, overcharge you, or never bring you that drink you ordered.

But it’s hard to imagine a day like this one (on the Côte des Basques in Biarritz) disappointing anyone.

I’m pro.

I love their stylish, stylish travel magazines, like Liv’, which I enthused about before. I like Droog, and their crazy collection of drawers that re-imagines the bureau. And readers of this blog know that I’m a big booster of Seattle Cycle Chic by way of my beloved Dutch bike.

But my love of novelty and love of Dutch design may have limits. And the Citizen M hotel will likely test both.

I booked a few nights for my upcoming trip to the Netherlands in this mod new pod hotel (similar to Japanese-style pod hotels). Because I generally use social media for my trip research instead of guidebooks, I came across this flickr pool showing the customizable, colored-light interiors of the rooms:

The idea of the lighting is to have it match your mood, ostensibly to put you in some kind of zen relaxation state. Or something. But that thing in the middle of the room, to your right? That’s a shower stall.

Sure, OK. Wacky shower stall in the middle of the room? Fine.

But then, looking at other photos, I realized: It wasn’t just the shower that was sitting out in the middle of the room.

I’ll give you a minute to recover from that photo.

…!

Yes, that’s right. That’s a toilet, just doing it’s thing smack in the middle of the hotel room. Hello!

(Also, just as an FYI, the entire photo set from the Citizen M is quietly hilarious to me. This one is another favorite–what exactly is happening there? And is he intentionally bringing the Borat…or…not?)

The whole thing just reminds me of the Nuni and Nooni sketch from a few years back on Saturday Night Live.

I’ve had moments just like this in the Netherlands. One Dutch friend was insistent that I was pronouncing the name of a very cool Haarlem museum incorrectly:

Him: “It’s not Teylers,” exasperation climbing into his voice. “It’s Teylers.”

Me: “Teylers.”

Him: “No! Not Teylers. Teylers!”

And so on and so on, for about four city blocks.

Stay tuned for the results from the Citizen M stay. And any suggestions, based on the photos you’ve seen, as to what that M stands for?

The idea of being buried in a crypt or some spooky cemetery with an elaborate gravestone conjures images that don’t equate resting in peace.

With that said, however, I share Lia’s fascination with graveyards, and when I was in Argentina in January I visited the infamous La Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires.

Most people flock there to visit Eva Perón’s grave, which is actually quite anticlimactic as it is very understated. (I also don’t get the cultural obsession with her).

La Recoleta is large and is laid out to feel like city blocks. Large mausoleums hold past Argentinean presidents, cultural figures and other wealthy aristocrats.

Some of these structures are incredibly ornate and extremely impressive. You can’t help but feel reverence, and national pride exudes everywhere.

If I had to choose my favorite from the thousands of gravestones, this would be it.

As you get closer to the city center, you’ll notice that newer-looking ranch styled homes border the highway. But if you crane your neck you can see that the townships are positioned right up against the new homes. It appears as if someone is trying to hide the townships with these newer houses.

When I was there, I learned that city officials were doing this as a way to mask the “problem” in order to prepare the city for the international stage during the World Cup. To give a sense of scale, these townships hold a million people. Good luck with that strategy.

Before I visited, I had read about tourists going to the townships via organized groups. At first I dismissed the idea because it felt incredibly offensive. What on earth could taking a tour to gawk at these poor people accomplish?

I grappled with the notion during my first few days and spoke to tourists, as well as locals. Unanimously, and without reservation, people were in favor of these organized trips, as long as you picked a savvy and ethical operator who gave back to the community. They felt like it was important for outsiders to see the living conditions, and to support the community of the people who opened their homes during the tours.

After some deliberation, and with serious skepticism, I decided to go.

The first stop on my tour’s itinerary was in Cape Town at the District Six Museum. The museum is housed in an old church in the District Six area of the city. This was once a thriving neighborhood, and during the height of apartheid was bulldozed by the government. 60,000 inhabitants were displaced and forced to relocate to the townships miles outside of town. The museum tells the horrific story through photography and audio timelines, as well as guided tours.

We then headed to the township of Langa. Some of these townships lie nearly 70 miles outside of the city, so anyone living in these areas who work in town are forced to spend a large amount of their small wages just on the commute. How can they ever rise themselves out of poverty given these circumstances?

Langa was powerful. It was extremely poor, but all my reservations were lifted the moment I arrived. The people seemed genuinely glad to see us, and we spent the entire day learning about their lives and how they felt about the South African government. We also visited a women’s arts and cultural center where you could buy their beautiful rugs or wood cut paintings.

All in all, it was a rewarding and certainly eye-opening experience. But more than once the residents told us, “It’s great you’re here. But we wish the rich white South Africans would visit more.”

Out of sight, out of mind, right? I don’t see how their situation can be ignored, and I’m curious, since the World Cup is just a few weeks away, what the South African government has done to come up with a real strategy to help these communities.

(Stumbed on it via Flight 001′s blog.)

Hooray! My tax refund came yesterday, which means I’ll be booking my time at Dutch Princess School soon!

It’s probably worth explaining why on earth I’m going to spend thousands of dollars to get to fluency in Dutch. And most importantly–why Dutch? Literally every time I mention that I’m trying to learn Dutch, the person I’m talking to has a completely baffled look on their face. Why that language, of all things? I’ll tell you.

I am in love with the Netherlands. My time in the Netherlands made me rediscover my childhood love of biking, but more than that, I love the directness of the culture, how no-nonsense people are.

When I was researching the Netherlands guidebook for the Travel Company that Shall Not Be Named, I knew I could walk into any B&B and be in and out in five minutes, with very little back-and-forth. In comparison, the British (I also researched U.K. guides) are lovely, but seem ever-so-put-out if you don’t enjoy tea and a biscuit with them. In a series of 14-hour research days, the quick, efficient manner of the Dutch gradually endeared them to me.

Every time I travel somewhere, I try to learn at least a little of the language. What surprised me about Dutch–as opposed to German, French, and Spanish, all of which I’d tried in a passing way–was how charming the turns of phrases are. As someone who likes writing, I love words themselves.

For example, the word “schoon” means both clean and pretty. Being a tidy sort, I found that funny. The word for frog is “kikker,” because, you know, they kick. “Snoepgoed” is candy, but “snoep” also means candy, and “goed” equals good, so I always think of this as “candy good,” which any five-year-old would agree with.

The Pacific Ocean is the “Stille” Ocean, because it’s quiet and still, compared to the Atlantic. Previous to learning this word, I had never once thought of “Pacific” as an adjective. Have you?

I get the same pleasure out of studying Dutch that I think other people do when they complete the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. It’s a mystery and a gift, to quote the poster above (which was pasted to a building in Amsterdam–mouse over the image to see the translation).

Here’s the thing about studying a language that not many other people in the world bother to study: The people whose language it is are amused, puzzled, and more often than not, delighted when you give it a go. It’s so much fun to be asking a stern Dutch old man something, switch to Dutch, and see his face soften. When I say I’m a novelty-seeker, I mean it–keep your French lessons.

Why I’m willing to spend so much money to go to school comes down to a life dream I have to be fluent, not just halting, in another language. I’ve never gotten there–and I don’t want to get stuck at the pigeon-language level I’m at now, even after three years of off-and-on study.

My goal to be fluent is why I found this Saturday Night Live sketch so funny. It’s a Law & Order sketch as if it was written by an elementary-school class studying Spanish. It’s not hilarious, but it is so true. I want to get beyond the “what time does the train come” / “do you have any pineapples” phase of learning a language.

If you’ve ever done a language immersion, I’d love to know about it: What you would have done differently? What you wouldn’t have missed out on for the world?

As I’ve mentioned earlier, I spent some time in La Mosquitia in Honduras a few years ago. It’s remote, and requires major effort to explore. Before this trip, I had traveled a lot, but never in the developing world.

The villages  in La Mosquitia are varying in scope in terms of education, language, and ethnicity. They are all poor, but as mini societies they react differently to their individual set of circumstances. One village banned alcohol, which seemingly improved the quality of life for everyone involved. They embrace their culture, are very welcoming of travelers, and from the outside appear to be a vibrant, healthy community.

Another village we visited had western  paraphernalia  everywhere and seemed to idealize the United States. Kids with protruded bellies walked around drinking grape soda at seven in the morning, and mothers and fathers seemed severely depressed. They questioned us: “Why would you want to come here?”

Observing the filth and overall malaise in the second village was my first real culture shock. I felt sad, guilty, and helpless. But at the same time I was weirdly grateful for the experience. The world just seemed different to me after that.

Since then, I’ve traveled extensively throughout the developing world. I don’t react as intensely to the poverty as I did the first time, but I’m always left wondering what I should be doing differently in my life back home.

When was the first time you experienced culture shock? Have you?

Click on the image to see the full 10-photo Flickr gallery.

]]> http://www.newelty.com/2010/04/21/culture-shock-a-reality-or-a-fabrication/feed/ 3 http://www.newelty.com/2010/03/16/grading-language-learning-sites/ http://www.newelty.com/2010/03/16/grading-language-learning-sites/#comments Tue, 16 Mar 2010 15:29:44 +0000 newelty http://www.newelty.com/?p=1265 Like a lot of travelers, I want to learn a second language. I want to be fluent in a second language, which is why I’m planning on attending a language school (a.k.a. Dutch Princess School) this summer.

In the meanwhile, I’m studying my heart out here at home using websites and software programs to bolster my never-quite-good-enough knowledge base.

When doing my own internet research on this topic, it seems like everyone wants to know the same thing: which language sites are good?

Accordingly, I put these sites through their paces and came up with a highly-subjective-but -hopefully-useful list that exposes the good, bad, and just plain ugly in language-learning sites. (As always, no money exchanged hands for these reviews.)

Ready for the ratings? Let’s get started!

1) LiveMocha.com

Here was the first thing that struck me about  LiveMocha.com: It has a substantial language base. Most sites don’t offer more obscure languages like Dutch (boo, babbel.com!) or have only the basic pleasantries available for you to learn (as with the BBC’s rudimentary site).

LiveMocha goes way beyond the French-German-Spanish-Chinese axis and lists languages I’ve never even heard of. So add a point right there in its favor.

The downside to LiveMocha is a problem with its software’s intelligence–or lack thereof.

LiveMocha’s software isn’t sophisticated enough to adjust to your levels or prevent repetition. The software developers should look at freerice.com, which actively adjusts your difficulty level if you answer questions correctly or not.

Even with that flaw in mind, of all the online sites I tried, LiveMocha had the most variety in types of questions and the most ambitious attempt overall. GRADE: B+

2) Rosetta Stone

Rosetta Stone works for some people. I’ve spoken with them in various Dutch-language meet-ups and real-world classes. But two things about it I find super-tedious:

Unbelievably bad stock photography–from 1988. Seriously, Rosetta, spring for some new pics. The version I have isn’t that old, and yet everyone is rocking the acid-washed, high-waisted denim look. The Selleck ‘stashes on their subjects make it impossible for me to concentrate. I’m only partially kidding.

Click-and-click again interaction design. The foundation of Rosetta Stone’s teaching philosophy seems to be the same ideology that says reciting multiplication tables is the proper way for children to learn mathematics. It may very well be, but…blarg. This is not a fun, 21st-century way to engage with this material.

Once I’ve clicked on the white bowl, and the blue bowl, and the red bowl, and the blue car, and the red car, and the white car, I feel like it might be a perfect time to start watching back episodes of Lost. The last thing I want to do with my spare time is something so un-fun. Did I also mention that Rosetta Stone costs hundreds of dollars? GRADE: D-

3) FlashcardExchange.com

I thought FlashcardExchange.com was what I was looking for. Combined with the knowledge I have from books that explain grammar and colloquial sayings, flashcards would help me learn words in a quick, straightforward, self-paced manner.

The navigation and setup are simple: click “c” to continue through the card and see the answer, and you can also indicate which ones you got correct to shrink your pile. Genius!

I worked my way through almost 200 adverbs. When I got down to the final three from the list (FINAL THREE FROM A LIST OF 200 ADVERBS!), I was stuck on the word for “false.” Because looking up words in my Dutch dictionary often helps me by showing me the root of the word or relationship to other, similar words, I headed there to get over my memory block.

It turns out, the word on my flashcard means exactly the opposite of what the flashcard said: the dictionary told me the word I had been studying means “true,” not “false.”

Grr.

The drawback of free sites, in general, is that they’re only as good as the knowledge members contribute. In this case, someone just sloppily entered a list of adverbs, and because the words are all new to me, I had no way of knowing that I was learning incorrect associations. The idea of this site was great, but without trust in the material itself, I won’t go back. GRADE: F

4) Wikibooks.com

Pretty pictures, clickable pronunciations, and clear write-ups. Plus, did I mention it’s free? Wikibooks.com, including the Dutch lesson series, seems like a winner at first glance.

What’s good on the site: Clear, concise descriptions of obscure, difficult Dutch grammar constructions, delivered with the earnestness of a kid collecting funds for UNICEF. But it’s almost too earnest, too authoritative for its own good, as in this example from the first lesson:

The above conversation utilizes the familiar form of the personal pronoun (je, jou) where English uses you. However, Dutch also has a polite or formal form of the personal pronoun for the second person (you), u. Many languages have this distinction. It is e.g. comparable with Sie in German, vous in French or Вы in Russian

Dude. I don’t speak Russian. Some days, I barely speak English.

Wikibooks can leave me feeling a little…dumb. But more than that, because it’s not interactive, it’s lacking the gameplay and quizzing functionality of sites like LiveMocha. Essentially, it is what it says it is: a book. And for me, it’s easier to work with an actual book (I like Bruce Donaldson’s Colloquial Dutch). But it’s still a great, thorough online resource. GRADE: B

5) Laura Speaks Dutch Podcast

Weird name, right? A friend pointed me to this free podcast in iTunes, named by a Dutch guy (Brenno de Winter) in love with an American (Laura) and teaching her his language. LauraSpeaksDutch is very sweet, and his enthusiasm for the subject bubbles over. Sometimes, he reminds me of a wedding DJ, happily taking requests from the crowd.

It’s a true labor of love, and while I don’t know that it could replace a textbook, with 55 episodes, he’s created more than I can keep up with. He seems to have stopped for now, but I hope he takes it up again.

His efforts are superior to anything that was produced commercially or by the collective, and while not every language is likely to have a Brenno, it’s worth looking at iTunes podcasts as an equal–if not better–source than many of the language-learning sites out there. GRADE: A

Have you found a language site that could school these five? Let us know!

I love the idea of bringing Dutch-bike-love back to U.S. cities, but New York seems the most daunting place of all to contemplate biking through. (Although I also thought NYC would be the last place for a Siena-style pedestrian-friendly piazza, and look how they’ve proved me wrong with Piazza Times Square.)

The solution appears to be: to be a cyclist in New York, take a New York attitude, according to Village Voice columnist Michael Musto:

Things I love about this video:

• Absolutely no spandex. Instead, a jaunty scarf.
• Biking between cabs, which is my favorite aspect of biking in downtown Seattle–it just seems so incongruous.
• His quotes: “I don’t care about the environment, but it’s nice that someone does.” Hilarious.

No helmet though, which seems slightly insane to me, but oh-so Dutch.

Hat tip to Copenhagen Cycle Chic for introducing me to this video and to StreetFilms.org for making it in the first place.