Going Dutch

Finally, shoes that fit my ego.

Other than my huge ego, you should know two things about me:

1. I try to never do work motivated by money. If the only motivation that gets me to a job is the money, I know I'm never doing my best work.

2.  I'm a little bit of an over achiever. Mind you, not in everything. I just constantly want to work hard, do my best, and maybe aim to actually be the best. I'm the kind of person that thrives under being challenged.


Living in Portland for the last two years has been a challenge. A fun challenge, but one of the biggest I've faced in my lifetime. In fact, it was during one of my 80-hour work weeks this last summer that pushed me to turn in my application to au pair in Holland.

I mean, who wouldn't want to live in a place like this?

To be completely honest, life in Portland was really, really rough. Rewarding, but I've never worked harder, cried more deeply, or struggled with both myself and other people more. So it's only logical that I would begin my job as an au pair like a warrior preparing for battle, determined to come out on top.

You can imagine, then, what is was like to suddenly be met with. . . Peace.

Does it get more peaceful than this?

I mean, if you've read some of my previous posts, you can see that I've still had struggles. But none of my "struggles" have been what I expected them to be.

My host parents are fantastic parents.

My host children are well on their way to becoming responsible adults.

My work doesn't feel especially like work.

I've hesitated to write about my work as an au pair, because it's really not a realistic experience of what au pairing usually looks like. When I interviewed my host family, they told me that they didn't really want someone to work for them, per se, but more of an extension of the family. They also told me that I would work 30 hours a week. And a bunch of other things.

But somehow I still didn't expect them to be completely, one-hundred-and-ten-percent, true to their word. And totally fair. And caring, but not constricting, just like a host family should be.

But wait! There's more: they have a dog. A piano. They love coffee. They eat chocolate for breakfast. I mean, is this place even real?

Booya. Movie night in Jessi's room.

All of the sudden, I'm no longer constantly grappling with other people's problems. Instead, I've been met by the uncomfortable feeling that if there's anything wrong, the blame might actually land on me. Most of the time, that is.  Suddenly, there's nobody else to blame for my problems and/or frustrations. Suddenly, I have no need to complain all the time or be frustrated with a situation. The only problem would be my own inability to address the problem.

I've heard a lot of people wonder about how Dutch people manage to be such happy people. I've struggled with the same question as I peddled into hurricane-force winds while clinging onto 50-pound grocery bags with my frozen fingertips. All while watching a beautiful, strong mother balance four children, groceries and a bouquet of flowers on her bike, humming away and not getting the least bit short with her crazy children.

I don't think I have the answers, but I do think it might be because people just. . . deal with themselves in this country. They never speak too much, but they never speak too little. They're a solution-oriented country. I mean, even when they ran out of agricultural land, they just put their heads together and made more land. (Yeah, don't mistake the Dutch quietness for a lack of epicness)

Happiness is just the default, I guess. If all the problems are dealt with, there's no reason to be unhappy.

P.S. Dutch children are so well informed! They have their own newspaper and news channel! 

So yeah, life here is unbelievably fantastic. And I haven't written about it because I wasn't quite sure if it was actually real. But, after two and a half months, the spell hasn't broken and I find myself becoming genuinely more happy, more Dutch, with every passing day.

See you in a few weeks and. . . GO DUTCH!

Jessica J. Wolfe