Regional accents deserve a place on the UvA campus, writes columnist Nikola Edelsztejn. “It seems that people do not always fully realize how utterly absurd it is to dismiss a non-Randstad accent as less worthy of being taken seriously.”
“Neuh, ‘k wit da nie neej.” Sometimes I catch myself responding with a clear Brabantian accent on campus. Often when I’m already a bit absent-minded.
The fact that I haven’t lived in Amsterdam for six years shows in many ways. From my time in Romania, I picked up ‘pa pa’ as my standard farewell and ‘vai’ (with that wonderfully long áááj sound) as an exclamation of surprise, disapproval, or disbelief. Back in the Netherlands, I ended up living in Brabant, and since I communicate daily with Brabanders, it’s increasingly clear month by month that I’m really no longer an Amsterdammer.
Standard student language
For many Dutch UvA students, it’s the same story – they’re not originally from Amsterdam, and their “real home” lies in Brabant, Twente, Groningen, or Limburg. Yet you can hardly hear it in their accents. This raises the question: is this standard student language really the holy grail?
Personally, I happily use expressions from my current region. This means that typically Brabantian phrases like “da is”, “da’s zund”, or – props to anyone who remembers this legendary Dutch meme video – “ma da was nie” sometimes come out of my mouth with full conviction.
I also notice I do this more often in Amsterdam than in Brabant itself. Perhaps it’s precisely because being there brings out the Amsterdam part of me more prominently. Although I have to admit that little of that remains when I’m drinking wine with five Brabanders until two o’clock (often starting from two) in the city.
Adapting
In a sense, I adapt to my surroundings, but I try to preserve a bit of my own linguistic character. In neighbourhoods in Eindhoven like Kleine Berg or Strijp-S – alongside super-cool outfits and people – you increasingly see the local Eindhoven dialect giving way to the “standard language” of young Randstad residents. Even in the region itself, a change is happening: the local accent feels coarse and conservative; it’s made for chatting with family or joking around. I also feel this sentiment is carried too strongly into Randstad universities, including the UvA.
People don’t always realise how absurd it is to dismiss a non-Randstad accent as underdeveloped, less serious, or just “dumb”. Remember: the UvA could learn a lot from Tilburg University in law studies, where integration with other social domains is far more advanced than at the Roeterseiland campus. And yes, if I’ve heard many Brabant accents from lecturers, it was there.
Yet Amsterdam has succeeded in creating a certain student standard language, which has greatly widened the linguistic gap between young people and older generations from the regions (the province of Limburg being a notable exception). I’m not talking about dialect, street slang, or vocabulary differences here – just the accent and the question: do I want to belong to a group that’s viewed with a sidelong glance?
Tone down our accents
Sociologically, it’s perfectly normal to tone down our accents when living in another part of the country – or abroad. We want to be accepted as quickly as possible in our new environment, while saving our linguistic habits for a phone call home or a monologue to the cat. Modifying an accent within a language you already know is much easier than doing so in a second language – “a small effort with a big reward”.
Still, it would probably feel much better if we didn’t have to feel that pressure. Do you really feel more comfortable constantly adopting a certain way of speaking when sometimes you genuinely want to swear using words you’ve heard almost your whole life – and certainly used in high school or the pub? Is it really worth hiding a part of your identity because your classmates might otherwise see you as ‘lesser’, when any sensible person knows that your accent has nothing to do with your character or intellect? After all, the best Dutch-speaking lecturers I had at the UvA all had unmistakable Brabantian or Limburgish accents.
Koekwaus
I think regional accents should be normalised more in Amsterdam student life because I know we can do it. Let that soft “g” ring out, roll that “r”, swallow the “-en” in an infinitive, and if you really want: call someone you can’t stand a “koekwaus”, “smiegel”, or “bralbek”. Swearing isn’t nice, of course, but hey: it’s harmless enough.
Ultimately, switching between different versions of yourself is something beautiful that makes you a person with a story. But it’s also good to dig out your purest self every now and then, and letting it show: àgge da màr wit!