Maud and the RA Bubble

Here at RA, we live in what we lovingly refer to as 'the RA bubble'. Not only is Middelburg pretty tiny, the Roosevelt Academy – with its 600 students – is an exceptionally small university by Dutch standards. Contrary to popular belief, this has far more advantages than disadvantages. I initially went to a regular Dutch university and got out of there faster than you can say "college drop-out". Although the system admittedly works for a lot of people, the whole mass-studying idea, the idea of not a single soul caring whether you pass an exam or not… it didn't work for me. It demotivated and depressed me.

No, RA is much more the place for me. Small. Personal. Small because it's personal, and personal because it's small. The same goes for Middelburg in general: you can't walk into town without running into someone you know, and quickly get on a first-name basis with the employees at the places you frequent. I'll gladly take that over being a number any day.

But of course, every advantage has its disadvantage, and that's what I discovered last Thursday on the train. The ticket inspector stopped by and scanned my public transport pass that allows me to travel for free during the week (but not on public holidays). I was already holding out my hand to accept it back when he said, "Hey, you should've bought a ticket today."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You should've bought a ticket," he said. "It's Bevrijdingsdag—Liberation Day."

"Is that even a public holiday?" I spluttered, only to receive disapproving looks from the other people in the compartment. I tried to save face by tacking on, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I go to an international university, we're generally unaware of what goes on out here," but for some inconceivable reason this only deepened their frowns.

Once at Rotterdam Central Station, I was confronted with another oddity: there were loads of kids on the train. This is usually not the case. However, it was only when I was at the movie theater later that night—usually quiet during the week, now packed with people—that I realized the majority of Holland is currently on break. Or, well, realized… my brother had to explicitly inform me of the fact that it's 'May vacation'.

Now, I could chalk all of this up to the fact that I've been ridiculously busy this past week. By now you guys might have concluded that I'm just dense and ignorant of what goes on around me in general. I myself am blaming the RA bubble, though. It's charming, but not always convenient when you have to get back to the real world.

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud and Week 13...

09.59 am Ewan McGregor is in your kitchen. He is wearing an awful mint green apron and making an omelet.

10.00 am Your iPhone bursts into song and you swipe everything off your nightstand in surprise. You automatically press 'snooze', but the rational part of your brain chastises you—"No snoozing! You have so much to do! Why didn't you set your alarm for eight o'clock?"—so you get up. Thankfully, this part of the day does not require much cognitive involvement: you're so used to your morning routine that suddenly it's

10.20 am and you're showered and dressed and sitting at your desk with your toast. (Almost-burnt, the way you like it. Or has it become the way you like it because it always burns anyway?) It is around this time that you start wondering why you were dreaming about Ewan McGregor; you don't even particularly like the guy.

You start up your laptop and check Facebook, Twitter, Gmail, RoAc-mail, ohnotheydidnt, and PostSecret even though it's not a Sunday.

You check them all a second time.

11.00 am Reluctantly, you continue studying for the exam you have the next day. You've already covered 100 pages! Shame you have 150 more to go.

14.00 pm Whoops, late for class. You make up for it by acing your presentation. You try to sneak in some studying while other people are presenting, but it makes you feel like a bad person so you don't get a lot of work done.

17.30 pm Okay, fine—one drink at the Sev. Just one. A diet coke. For your mental sanity. And because you aced your presentation.

18.00 pm You skip hallway dinner so that you can continue studying. You plow through even though you seriously doubt that knowledge about Iranian cinema in the 1960s will ever contribute to your life in any way.

21.30 pm Seeing as the mental sanity argument worked before (see 17.30 pm), you use it again, this time to go for a run and take a nice, long shower afterwards.

22.30 pm Unfortunately, the bright red EXAM! on tomorrow's page in your diary has not sprouted legs and ran off. You make a mental note to ask your diary to teach this trick to the contents of your fridge, and continue studying.

01.00 am Fifty pages and several Facebook chat conversations later, you start to feel a little tired. You have a coffee and take a nap.

01.20 am The internet was right about the great effect of drinking coffee right before a twenty-minute nap. You feel amazing. You feel amazing! You're on top of the world! You're going to nail this exam!

03.30 am You kind of want to die a little.

04.10 am DONE DONE ******* DONE YOU ****** TOLD YOU I'D GET THIS DONE I AM GOING TO ACE THIS EXAM.

04.15 am zzz

Important Health Hazard Warning: Please Read

The stunts and activities performed in this blog were done by professionals and under the supervision of professionals. For your safety and the protection of those around you, do not attempt any stunts you read in this blog. In case you really do value your mental sanity, make sure to keep up with all the reading for all your courses. Preferably, summarize everything as you read it to ensure you'll have enough time to revise properly. While you're at it, write all your papers in or before the midterm break for some extra leeway. Alternatively, you could just plan well, but where's the fun and spontaneity in that?

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud's Guide to Surviving Middelburg

It's great to see our blogs get cross-posted to the Roosevelt Academy Facebook page! This means they can reach a lot more people. However, the main purpose of this blog is to give prospective students an idea of what it is like to study at RA. With them in mind, I have compiled a list of ten of important places in Middelburg. Many of these I mentioned before in my blogs.

Eleanor, Franklin & Theodore

Rather than Building #1, #2 and #3, our university buildings were named after various Roosevelts. The funky names were undoubtedly implemented to cause hilarious situations when giving directions to non-RAers. I don't think I'll ever forget "to reach the IT helpdesk, one must enter Eleanor from the rear".

Arguably, our best building is Eleanor. This is where people assemble during the day in coffee and lunch breaks to discuss class or other important matters—all in English, of course. At night, productivity reigns supreme for those of us who study best in public spaces with a handful of kindred souls. Eleanor also has Wi-Fi!

Crostini

Four-hour class sessions on Wednesday would not be the same without Crostini, a tiny Italian store where everyone goes for its delicious sandwiches. (The Filet USA is particularly good.) Added advantage: RA students get a 10% discount.

In the sun on the wooden bench in front of Crostini, with the humming sound of a needle floating by from the tattoo parlor across the street… this is where you get to feel far away from the RA bustle for one blissful moment.

De Drukkerij

A huge bookstore with a café at its center, de Drukkerij gets cool points for its decent English books section, its toasties, and its free Wi-Fi. Last but not least, we can buy our textbooks here with discount.

Ko D'oooooooor

Ko D'oooooooor, popular among students, is a small coffee place with an art gallery attached. It serves great coffee and is a little more study-friendly than de Drukkerij. I love both, though, so it will always remain a struggle to decide where to settle down with my laptop and study books.

Hit me or the kind lady behind the counter up for the internet password!

Barrel

After last month's public letter of apology I have little left to say about our very own student bar, except: go there and drink the Brugse Zot beer they're proud to currently have on tap.

Rooie Oortjes

It's Friday, 8.45. You're in class. The person next to you has hazy red eyes and smells distinctly of cigarette smoke and various kinds of alcohol. You wince sympathetically when they explain, "So I ended up in the Oortjes last night…"

The Rooie Oortjes is where party-goers flock together after closing time of all other places. Expect to meet a lot of intoxicated people here. I can never help but wonder how often said intoxicated people fall down the stairs that lead to the toilets.

Seventy-Seven

Out of the many bars Middelburg has to offer, a lot of RA students have adopted the Seventy-Seven as their pub of choice. I personally cannot be positive enough about the Sev. Between its great atmosphere and the bartenders' awesome taste in music, I have never even felt the need to give any of the other pubs a shot. (Rooie Oortjes doesn't count!)

A Domani

Unlike the other places on this list, A Domani doesn't really have places to sit. It makes up for this disadvantage by selling amazing ice cream and, more importantly, coffee. If you hurry, you can make it to A Domani in your break and return victorious with a large cappuccino. Even better, if you do this ten times and don't forget to collect stamps on your card, you get one for free!

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud: I am Jack's Greediness

It is entirely possible I've been a little too optimistic lately. The last few weeks of our semesters are always packed with debates, presentations, essays and – of course – exams. From now on, it'll be one long, exhausting sprint to that May 20 finish line.

This isn't news to me. Still, for a while I managed to ignore this knowledge in favor of more instant gratifications. Being late for class because you were having lunch at Crostini, settling down on SeventySeven's terrace after that one class that runs 'till six o'clock, a Barrel night with a four-hour aftermath in a Roggeveen common room… all nice things, sure, but not necessarily beneficial to one's GPA.

One of my neighbors once asked me (rhetorically, in a voice that betrayed a sense of disbelief and mild exasperation) that surely I wasn't planning on maintaining my first year's GPA throughout my entire RA career. But to be honest, I am.

I never used to be very ambitious; as soon as I realized I'd get through Dutch high school without too much effort, I settled for grades around the 70% and 80% mark. Here at RA, that lazy attitude has vanished. Aside of the obvious positive effect of being able to choose subjects I'm interested in, it's immensely motivating to have professors that are actually interested in what I have to say. They want my input in class and in my essays they want me to argue something I believe in. Right now, for example, I'm analyzing one of my favorite novels – Fight Club – for my Stylistics class. I think that's pretty damn great. And because RA's environment is so motivating, I want to get high grades. I want to live up to it. I'm not going to settle for a B anymore. These three years, I'm collecting A's, as many as possible.

The downfall here, of course, is that I want too much. I'm greedy. I want A's. I want to write great papers. But I also want to enjoy the sun and to have friends visit and to relax and to sit in my flower-patterned arm chair with a good book or an episode of one of my favorite TV shows. I want it all. Oh, and I also want to sleep for at least eight hours a night. Pretty please. With a cherry on top.

My point is, it doesn't really work that way. If I get distracted while writing my essay and end up watching the movie adaptation of Fight Club instead, I'm not going to get that A I want so badly. If I stay out 'till half past six I'm not going to get my eight hours of sleep. It's all about instant and long-term gratifications. Chocolate might make you feel good for about five seconds, but on the long term, carrots are just so much more nutritious and generally healthier and better for you.

…in that same vein, I'll stop working on this blog now and continue working on my essay.

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud and the Public Apology to Barrel

Dear Barrel,

I still remember the first time we met. I wasn't at RA yet; I was visiting a friend. She took me to see you. I was so charmed by your whole dark, grungy, underground atmosphere, by the general idea of all these students gathering in their own student bar to dance and chat and, yes, drink away their stress. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and we did, too.

Despite this positive first experience, I haven't visited you often during my own time here. Sometimes it's because I have class at 8.45 the next morning. Sometimes it's because I'm simply too busy. And I have to admit that sometimes I just don't feel like it. Ask me to stop by Barrel and my instinctive reaction is to scoff. Barrel? Barrel is either deserted or far too busy. Barrel is a bit of a guilty pleasure, like the hometown disco your circle of friends has long outgrown but sometimes gravitates back to because of the €1,- beer. Every once in a blue moon you find yourself there, but you're always slightly embarrassed to be seen among the throngs of fourteen-year-olds who managed to get in somehow. When you run into someone you know, both of you shrug apologetically. Yeah, I don't know how I ended up here either.

But, my dearest Barrel, I was wrong. You're not like that, and I owe you an apology.

Barrel, I'm sorry for never giving you a fair chance. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you're so quiet sometimes. I'm sorry, and I hope you will allow me to redeem myself. Because, dear Barrel, you see, I've been visiting you more often these past few weeks and I have (re)realized that you're pretty damn amazing. Your drinks are cheap, your couches are comfy, and when there are people around you pretty much guarantee a good time.

The problem is that people are not always around, especially not early at night. But staying at home will never fix that. What will? Going to the movie night and hanging around afterwards for a beer. Getting a group of friends together and meeting in Barrel instead of the Sev. Nodding rather than scoffing when someone asks me to stop by. That will fix it.

You've got so much potential, Barrel, and I'm one of the people who are starting to realize that more and more. I promise you I'll be more positive about you from now on. I'll come over more often. I'll try to make other people do so, too. Because when it comes down to it, it's great that we've got our own student bar here, and we should make as much use of it as possible.

Yours truly,

Maud

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud and the Sun

Hasn't the weather been great lately? After a bit of a false start I think it's safe to say we've fully crossed over to spring now. The drab days of winter are behind us – gone, forgotten, crammed into a cardboard box and left to gather dust somewhere in a far corner of the attic. If it were up to me it'd stay away for a very long time.

I love everyone's euphoric reactions to the descending summer. "Put together all the happy moments I had this past winter," someone said to me this weekend, "and you get the feeling I wake up with every morning now." Though it might not be this extreme for everyone, spring does improve the general mood considerably. My Facebook feed is filled with status updates about happiness and cold beer on terraces. And the other week, when the train network near Rotterdam was down for over an hour, no one complained; instead, many stranded travelers seized the opportunity to stretch out across the stairs of the Central Station and catch some much-needed sun.

Although it's nice to see everyone this happy, the collective weather-induced ecstasy is not entirely practical. We still have six more weeks to go. Final presentations and exam dates are accumulating, and essay deadlines are approaching fast. We should be spending most of our time studying. But the weather makes it hard. It's more fun to wander around town with your sunglasses on, shopping for summer clothes. It's more fun to crash a barbecue with a handful of girls and chat the evening away. It's more fun to sit by the sun-drenched waterside and eat sushi from a plastic to-go box.

Of course there's a middle ground I could be striking here: write essays out in the sun, take my books to the park… for now, though, the spring is still so young and exhilarating that I think I'm allowed some leisure time as long as my grades don't suffer. As Jamie Cullum says, catch the sun before it's gone – that's good advice, because you never know when the sun might disappear again in this fickle and self-willed country of ours.

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud and the French Test

Last Thursday I had to take an entrance test for next semester's 100-level French course. The test was computerized, so we got our results immediately afterwards. Mine was 47%. The norm hadn't been announced yet, but 47% is generally nothing to write home about. It didn't seem very promising.

I have to admit I was never a huge fan of the language requirement at RA. Although I do understand the philosophy behind it, studying French in English when my mother tongue is Dutch seems somewhat cumbersome to me. Besides, I would rather fill my course slots with subjects within my major tracks than with a language I already tried and (evidently) failed to master in high school.

I was nonetheless slightly upset about probably-failing the entrance test. Just the previous day I had worked out a provisional long-term course planning for myself. It relied heavily on taking French 100 this fall. If I'd have to go through the zero-level first, my pretty schedule would get all messed up.

To improve my mood, I dragged my grumpy self to what might possibly be my favorite place in Middelburg – de Drukkerij, which is not only a beautiful bookstore but also sells the most amazing toasties in its café – and bought two books (three cheers for retail therapy). I spent the rest of the afternoon curled up in my flower-patterned armchair with A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, pointedly ignoring RA's existence for a while.

That evening after hallway dinner, one of my neighbors – who had taken the test as well and had gotten a similar result – came rushing into my apartment and yelled, "Maud! Maud! We made it into French 100!" Arm-flailing and hugging ensued. I checked my email and found out I'd just scraped through the test. I was so relieved.

Maybe it's because I was so certain I had failed but ended up passing anyway. Or maybe it's because I don't like leaving things unfinished. Maybe it's just because I like languages and secretly do not mind RA's language requirement after all. I don't know. What I do know, though, is that I am looking forward to studying French again. What's more, I'm determined to actually get the hang of it this time around. I say bring on fall 2011.

À la prochaine!

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Maud and the Psychological Importance of Spring Break

There is a certain set of questions each RA student should be able to answer whenever, wherever. These questions are, in sequence:

1. So… what exactly do you study?

2. Why Middelburg?

3. Are you on break again?!

The first couple of times you get asked either of these, you try to come up with a decent response. Well, our university uses the American Liberal Arts and Sciences system, which basically means we get to study all the subjects we're interested in, and even get a Degree at the end of our three years here… actually, Middelburg is a pretty nice town, and its tininess only contributes to the sense of community at RA… yes, I am on break again, but the reason our vacations are so long is because we work so hard throughout the semester. No, really. (Or, as one of my neighbors once deftly put it, "Hard work pays off.")

After a while, though, it gets tiring to repeat the same things over and over again – no matter how well-meant the question – and you start cutting down your standard answer template. Nowadays, I tend to just tell people I study "mainly" English language and literature. When they voice their doubt regarding Middelburg's authority as a student town, I merely shrug. And, yeah, I have the week off, and I ain't apologizing for it because it's great.

It's spring break. Half of the semester is behind us; we're half-way through, half-way there, and most of us have built up a buffer of acceptable grades to fall back on in case things go a little sour. Midterms are mostly over. Of course there are always essays to be written and presentations to be prepared, but this week we can actually afford to procRAstinate for once.

I went into this break with the full intention of writing at least three of the five essays I have to hand in this semester. By Monday, I'd finished one and started working on a second one. I was on schedule. I figured I deserved a real break for a day, so on Tuesday I met up with one of my best friends at Starbucks Schiphol. The next day, two of my intRAweek brothers – one of whom was an American exchange student; he was here to visit the Dutch friends he made – came over to my hometown. Coincidentally, one of my intRAweek sisters called me that night and asked what my plans for the rest of the break were.

You can probably guess what happened; I won't have to spell out for you. It is Sunday now, and I am still frantically working on that second essay. I can't even say that I really mind. I spent my spring break immersed in coffee, sushi, sun, good music and even better company. It was a nice week. Yes, essays are important, but so is mental health. And at least now I'm well-rested and psychologically all ready for the second half of the semester…

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.

Dutch Culture 101, or: Why I Should Give up all Possible Forms of Transportation and Become a Professional Hermit Instead

Roughly two-thirds of the RA population is Dutch, me included. I would like to address this first blog to the (prospective) students that aren't. Hopefully it will provide you with a bit of insight into Dutch culture.

Let's start with the basics. Windmills. Clogs. Cheese. Tulips, even though by now everyone and their great-grandmother is aware of the fact that tulips were once imported from Turkey and are therefore strictly speaking not quintessentially Dutch. That detail is glossed over; tulips are still part of the stereotypical idea of Holland that prevails around the globe. At the top of the list, of course, are bicycles. Dutch people cycle. It's a fact. Have you ever heard the joking phrase "if it ain't Dutch it ain't much"? Well, if it ain't cyclin' it ain't Dutch. According to my unrivalled Google skills, Holland is the only country in the world which contains more bikes than people.

I have this whole theory about how our bicycle culture ties in with another stereotype about the Dutch, namely that we're pretty straight-forward and laid-back (and that's putting it mildly). That's for another time, though. Today, I want to talk about the Dutch coming-of-age ritual that other cultures may be largely unaware of. A young Dutch person's passage into adolescence suspiciously often goes hand in hand with the first time their bike gets stolen. It's an interesting rite, characterized by many tears, a feeling of extreme confusion and dread, and a long sermon from the parental unit about always making sure your bicycle is chained to a fence. Twice. The aftermath of this complicated cultural ritual frequently consists of a shiny new bike with carrier straps, a bell that actually works, and a six pound chain that would single-handedly bash someone's skull in if they but looked at it the wrong way.

The ritual may be repeated once or twice, and after a while every Dutch citizen knows better than to leave their bike at a train station in the Randstad with less than, say, four extra locks to protect it. Everybody knows that's asking for trouble. I know, too. But I was in a hurry, and I couldn't find a spot near a fence. When I got off the train back three hours later and realized my good old bike was gone I couldn't even really get mad. It's simple; I should have known better. It was my own fault. I texted my friend, "fiets gejat fml" – which roughly translates to "bike got stolen. my life is so hard" – and went to the movie theater to watch Roman soldiers massacre one another. It is entirely possible I fist-pumped at the first sight of blood.

This happened three weeks ago. I'm still not over it, mainly because I've been eating toast with duo penotti for a week straight because I don't have money left to buy proper food. I spent a hundred bucks on a new bike with a huge, pink chain lock. I use the extra lock all the time, even when I know I won't be gone for too long. The loss is still too fresh. Even here in Middelburg, where bicycle theft is considerably less than in the Randstad (where I'm from), I use my extra lock. Especially at the train station. It's always hard to find a spot, but I managed to wriggle my own bike in-between another bike and one of the sparse little racks we're supposed to put them against. I got my extra lock and put it around the frame of my bike, through the front wheel, at the fence. I was going to make sure no one would steal my bike this time.

Behind my back, the train I was supposed to catch whistled its goodbye.

(Footnote)

Of course, there is the ever-present issue of using 'Holland' or the 'Netherlands'. 'The Netherlands' would make more sense, for technically 'Holland' only encompasses two of its twelve provinces. My entirely selfish and politically incorrect reason for using Holland instead: it's nicer to say. In Dutch some would say "het bekt lekker".

Seriously, though – try it. Say 'the Netherlands'. Pronounce it. The-Ne-ther-lands. Are you there yet? Yeah? Now, say 'Holland'. Holland! Short and snappy, with a nice glottal 'h' at the beginning… it even looks better; softer somehow, rounder. In Holland, rosy-cheeked girls with blond braids skip around green green fields dotted with tulips. The Netherlands, on the contrary, sounds a lot like a country where bikes get stolen and trains close their doors and slowly slide off without a trace of guilt on their face.

My name is Maud and I am a second-year student of Linguistics & Literary Studies. These are a few of my favorite things: books, sneakers, loud music, and coffee.