Céline Zahno | How long does it take to become an Amsterdammer?
Even though the echo of Amsterdam’s streets is unmistakably bilingual, learning Dutch is the evident option when trying to settle in properly. However, Amsterdam is the city of passers-by.
The waitress at the counter responds in English when she hears my tongue twist awkwardly over the r in broodje. I am trying to switch the conversation back to Dutch, but she stubbornly persists to serve me in English. In these moments, it is not so clear to me whose city Amsterdam is. Does it belong to the ones who generously adapt to make their town feel welcoming or to the ones who whole- or even just halfheartedly try to fit in?
Amsterdam is the city of passers-by. A crowd of international first-year students swarms through Amsterdam every late summer. Most of them come to do their bachelor’s degree. A three-year experience, but the excitement over the city’s many distractions fades after a while. All clubs have been danced in, and the beauty of the canal rings has become custom. Then what?
Even though the echo of Amsterdam’s streets is unmistakably bilingual, learning Dutch is the evident option when trying to settle in properly. Unnecessary for reasons of convenience, it is to acquire a sense of belonging. Internationals often circulate in parallel networks. Most bachelor’s degrees are divided into Dutch and English tracks – too easy to stay amongst one’s own group, there is little evidence of mingling. Untied to the particularity of context, international friend groups dissolve from the city after some time. Dutch grants access to local life; the social circles specific to place.
While I am still trying to properly pronounce the names of streets and figure out the right shops for essentials, the air of remoteness prevails. It must be noticeable to the outside – no one ever asks me for directions, and I am spoken to in English without inquiry. Is there some secret club, I wonder, where Amsterdammers learn to recognize each other, and when will I receive an invitation? It might also be a hallmark experience; some threshold of bike rides you must surpass to reach sudden consciousness of being an Amsterdammer. Amsterdam prides itself in being a hub for startups and international businesses. It has long been advertised for its liberalness and ostensible air of internationality to attract students and workers from abroad. But today, an odor of local resentment for unpayable rents and Dutch only remarks on housing adverts greet international newcomers. Some find themselves as victims of the disastrous housing market, forced to reconsider staying. Students’ constant alertness for a cheaper option to live will eventually fade and turn into comprehension that they will not be staying for long.
It is clear to me now that I will not receive an invitation into the club of Amsterdammers anytime soon. I will have to find a way in myself. But luckily, this is not a recipe for entry into some exclusive community. Amsterdammers tend to be a welcoming crowd - probably, that is just as much of an invite as one needs. It seems then that it is not a question of time one needs to sustain until some rite of passage is reached. A conclusive commitment to feel part of Amsterdam must be accompanied by available means - money to spend on housing and time to spare on Dutch classes. Sustaining that commitment is where many fail.
Céline Zahno is a student Political Science at the UvA and comes from Switzerland.
