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How I moved to the “low lands” of Europe with ambitious plans that didn’t really work. It was quite an escapade, let me tell you!

Once I realized I couldn’t continue in the US, I researched where to move and start another chapter of my life. My plan was to go back to college, get a job eventually, and see how things evolve. After considering the pros and cons of many countries around the planet, I picked the Netherlands. Things I found online looked just right: it is fine to live there with English language only; I wouldn’t have to mess with any visas nonsense; the cost of living is OK; the study programs are good, and the tuition is reasonable; decent job market; beautiful cities; nice people… a sweet deal, right? But as it happens, things online don’t always reflect reality. But let’s start from the beginning.

The Netherlands is a relatively small, flat country, yet visually intriguing. Greenfields contrast bold architecture with large windows, whether old dark brick neighborhoods or new city parts with modern skyscrapers. It’s raining a lot here, so unlike in the photo above and the plentiful tulip postcards, the sky is often rather grey here. Still, when the sun comes out, the place awakens in vivid colors and great light.

The nation has earned the world’s fame for its international marine trade, water canals, flower markets, windmills, weed tourism, and finally, its usage of bikes. Let me start with the bikes, and I will try to get to the other things later.

Bikes are definitely one of the very first things you will notice once you enter the country: they are everywhere. Coming from a non-cycling country like the US, it can seem like colossal mayhem at first glance. One must pay attention while walking/driving downtown, not to hit or get hit by one of them. Bikers whiz around left, right, and center. However, behind the chaos is an order that works very well. There is an enormous number of designated bike roads, so when you learn it, they aren’t in your way and vice versa. Each intersection specifies the right-of-way, and even bike parking has a system. It is like a copy of the cars’ infrastructure, but for bikes, coexisting with the vehicles' and pedestrians'. It took me maybe two days of practice, and I was set.

Riding a bike was, for sure, the most convenient way to get around the city. I got one the first day I arrived, and after fixing the brakes in a MacGyver style with a Swiss knife and a PET bottle, I was ready to hit the city and get down to business; buy a local cellphone number, and so on. At first, riding in downtown reminded me of downhill biking: Concentration is mandatory; otherwise, you crash in a second. Only here weren’t trees and rocks, but other bikers. Bikers in front of you, next to you, bikers behind you… Navigating through was exhilarating. To raise the thrill a bit, over half of the bikers typed a text or called someone, smoked, held an umbrella, a handbag, groceries, the hand of another biker, or did a combo of these things. Some even had headphones on top of the mentioned stuff. I adapted some of this culture; many photos in this post were taken while cycling. You know, holding a phone with maps in one hand, a camera in the second, and the handlebars in… oh, wait. You get the idea; multitasking is a common practice here.

During my time there, I easily rode more miles than I did over the last year or so, just to get back and forth from one side of the city to another. Since the paths are flat with a perfectly smooth surface, it didn’t feel like a big deal, but it cost some activity. The Dutch biking system is like a free gym, but better; one gets the daily exercise, but as opposed to running on a treadmill, they get places, too.

Now, let me tell you about the city I moved to: Utrecht.

Its history goes as far as 2000 years ago, and before it was surpassed by Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and The Hague (all of which are just an hour by train), it was the Netherlands’ biggest city. Although nowadays the city ranks 4th in the population (with about 350,000 inhabitants), it has the 2nd highest number of cultural events per year, after Amsterdam. It is also a student town in the Netherlands, home to a couple of highly ranked universities. Utrecht’s higher education institutions enroll about 100,000 students together – a lot. As a result, 71 percent of the city’s population is under 45 years old.

This contributes to its extremely vital downtown. No matter what day of the week it is, it looks like the entire population moves into the city center to spend an evening. There are a myriad of people everywhere. On every corner of a block is a restaurant, and they’re all full.

With all the restaurants, the streets are loud with people chatting or singing later in the night, rather than droning cars. There were hardly any of those. Instead, I stumbled upon multiple coffee shops, where you couldn't get a cup of coffee. I smelled weed more often than regular cigarettes in downtown. But sticking to food, Dutch cuisine is tasty and healthy. It's brilliant, until you see the bill. In the US, I was used to paying 10-15 bucks for a decent meal, but it's easily $20 and up here in the Netherlands.

I like to explore cities after sunset, as they all turn into a different, more colorful world. Even the most boring building during the day becomes more interesting at night if it is under a mix of light sources. All the streetlamps, cars, and lit windows cast an artificial light around, which makes for a dynamic scene. Also, you can’t see all the mess like in daylight (but that’s not the case in the Netherlands, as what I saw was clean). When it comes to lightning, Utrecht offers a show. Many places and structures are neatly lit with a flair of art.

Reflectors enhancing the shapes of structures aren’t unusual, but they took them to the next level here: pedestrian and bike underpasses changed color as I went through, and windows of some buildings shone in intervals.

But the coolest one I found was a location producing a thin strip of haze backlighted by a strong green ray. It created a wall of light, and it was ingenious.

Finally, many bridges over downtown canals were brightened with pulsing led lights, while they were constantly cruised by groups on boats, enjoying the moment with a glass of wine.

While mentioning wine, the combination of attractive downtown, bars, and the mentioned student population meant that later into the night, as the alcohol percentage increased, it got hard to photograph anything. Not that I got wasted, but some happy humans jumped in front of my camera every time I tried to take a picture.

Utrecht is a fun place to walk through, and there are plenty of things to discover. Besides the culture in the city center, it also has some modern architecture.

There were quite a few contemporary buildings already, but I imagine that in 10 years, they’ll be filling every available space. There was a ton of new developments going on.

One of the recently built structures was this fancy mosque.

Not just the students, migrants from all over the planet also contribute to the fact that Utrecht is very multicultural, including many Muslims. It felt like locals here respected that, and it made me think that hopefully, one day, people will be more accepting everywhere. Try to set up a similar-sized mosque in Slovakia these days, a Christian church in Saudi Arabia, and so on...

This moves us to another point, the people here: The Dutch are the tallest population in the world, so I didn’t look there like some rare species with my two meters (6’6”) height. And because most of them ride bikes instead of driving everywhere, an average Dutch person is in far better physical shape than an average person in the States.

Unfortunately, those that I ran into weren’t nearly as friendly as I was used to with people in the US, which is a shame. On my first day in Utrecht, I asked a stranger for directions, and he said to give him five Euros first. So, I used my phone instead. The folks here were mostly taking care only of themselves, but if they thought something of you, they let you know it straightforwardly. That can be good, but it takes a bit of time to get used to. One of my first conversations was with a girl at an information point, who said: “You are trying to get a place to live within a week? Phew, that’s madness.”

That brings me to accommodation. I knew it might be a challenge here, so I started a few months in advance. I got in touch with a company that was supposed to rebuild an old house into students’ rooms, and they promised me a place. Nice! But just a few weeks ago, before my arrival, I received an email saying that the city didn’t approve the reconstruction, and that they could not fulfill what they pledged. As if they just found out now!? I was angry and back at the beginning.

Since then, I have had no luck in finding anything, but I thought, “Surely, securing housing would go better in person,” and I arrived a few weeks before the first day of school to get it. I planned to stay in a hostel while searching for a room. However, every hostel I called replied with an annoyed voice, “We are full, full, and it won’t get any different.” If there was a space, it was just for one night max. The need to move every night would cost a lot of time and effort, so I decided to book a hotel for a week (uh, I know) and began my search. I was looking for a furnished room in a shared apartment in a range of €350-550 per month, including utilities. I was not too thrilled to go back to shared accommodation, but it was the only choice, as according to what I read online and discussed with the uni staff, one could get such a room from €300 up, while self-contained studios run for €1000+.

The reality turned out to be rather different. No matter that I applied for housing through real estate agencies – both online and in local offices, I joined many “room wanted” groups on social media and asked people around the town for help, it didn’t go well. First, there was absolutely no way to get anything, even unfurnished, below €400/month. Then, if there was a furnished room for ~ €500/pm, it was only with “no council registration possible,” which means living in such a space is against the law. All the unfurnished rooms for around €500 that I saw were with many, um, compromises. They were either in a desolate condition with roof leaks, broken windows, and moldy bathrooms, or with roommates that wouldn’t work like people smoking multiple packs of cigarettes daily or owning two dogs, each sized like a small car. Nothing against dogs, but discovering the kitchen with a layer of dog hair everywhere was far from desirable at such rates.

My initial plan was to start with school and then find a job. Even before I moved here, I called the university to discuss the possibilities of some work-study program, and the person I spoke with told me that they have some student jobs, but I will need to set it up with a “study coach” in person. “Great,” I thought, and kept that in mind for later. However, with the housing situation forcing me to fork out a much bigger sum of money than expected, I started to look for a job and went to find this coach even before I had housing sorted. But instead of help, he said, “There is nothing like this offered; who told you that we do that?” ~ “Wow, this is getting better and better,” I thought, and started checking the local job market on my own. Sadly, I crashed on another thing the Internet stated was wrong. It said that getting a job in English is not an issue. However, I was always asked, “…but you can speak Dutch, right?” and the job opportunities disappeared like bubbles from a cheap soda, even at some, um, not so demanding positions, like washing dishes in a pub. Well, damn.

The language itself is interesting too, and it is something I planned to learn at some point. But Dutch is not something to master overnight; it is like if you’d put German, English, and some French in a blender and mix it for about 30 minutes. That being said, Dutch people seem to have an easy time understanding those three languages, but anyone from any of those three countries has no clue what the Fu Dutch words like verschrikkelijk mean, and how to pronounce them. Out of the countries where English is not their official language, the Netherlands is, together with Norway, the country with the biggest percentage of English speakers in Europe. Around 90% of the population can speak English here, which is even higher than that of Canada (85%). Sure, you can talk with people in English – mainly with younger generations – everywhere in Western Europe, but mostly it will be with a sort of broken grammar (kinda like this text). Dutch people are usually fluent in EN across all ages, and what’s also interesting, they have more of an American English accent than a British one. But anyway, it didn’t mean anything when I was looking for a job.

Back to the housing, the problem is that the universities here enroll more students than the city can accommodate. They know that, but they get money for every student, and that’s what counts. Other entities in the city are also aware of the miserable housing situation, and just like universities, they let the money talk first. As the academic year started, hotels jacked up prices by at least +€10 per night. Eventually, I had to leave my hotel for another one. I called around 20 places, and the cheapest that had a room available was €85 per night, without breakfast. For a currently-not-earning student, that's a fortune! And the following day, the case repeated. It is every man for himself situation, assisting students just not gonna make them rich, is it? Someone in the uni said that more than half of the freshmen students won’t make it through the first year. That's the kind of statistics I didn't see before coming here. Tough luck.

At the uni, I attended a welcome day event for international students. I thought I could meet other students in the same situation as me and maybe set up a group with whom we could rent something bigger and share the costs. The students I met were either from affluent families who happily paid four digits a month for housing, others were blocking the hostels around, and some even stayed in tents in a campsite. Most of those from the last two categories who I spoke with had something arranged to move in after a week or so, and the few who did not, they wanted to secure something on their own. So, still no luck. The program then included an introductory talk about the country, city, and the uni. Perhaps, finally, it could provide some helpful guidance, or at least, a warm welcome, I thought. Sadly, it was another instance of my optimistic assumption getting shattered, as the speaker spent an hour highlighting Dutch national superiority (to an aula full of people with no Dutch background!) and concluding with “if it ain’t Dutch, it ain’t much.” To say this did not help would be an understatement.

A few days later, I was getting fed up with all this mess. If I had some warranty for finding something soon, but it just didn’t look like I’d get lucky this time, I started considering whether the Netherlands was a good idea. I didn’t want to just quit, but in the current light of the accommodation-work-school combination, there would be a good chance that I’d have to quit after a year anyway, with no result, no diploma, and with my savings gone. “That would suck,” I thought. “If I am about to burn a year and money, I might as well do it somewhere where I can properly function and get along with folks.”

Finally, one day, I didn’t reserve anything and went to the railroad station to put my stuff in one of the storage boxes there. The station was around three miles (~5km) from the last place I stayed in, so to get there, I strapped the luggage behind my bike as if it were a trailer, and amazingly, it worked a treat.

The luggage didn’t break, and I even managed to fit it into a small storage box at the station. With this solved, I used my cellphone to connect my laptop online and kept looking for a key to my problem. Nothing. Again, I thought about what the best step would be, and ended up figuring that the Netherlands is likely not going to be sustainable this time. So, I took a pic of my bike, posted it online, and had a buyer immediately. But before I sold it, I went for the last ride to see a bit more of the city. Just to sightsee and relax on this occasion, since my head was one big “Wtf is happening,” and I needed to sort out my thoughts.

Once without a bike, I continued on foot through downtown. I was still confused and lost, but otherwise, it was a lovely evening.

Suddenly, a guy approached me: “I’m homeless, but I’m trying to save, would you be kind and give me one Euro?” Like most big cities, Utrecht has a homeless population too. Honestly, with the housing situation, it was no surprise. I just looked into his eyes, and with a self-surrendered voice I said: “I’m homeless too,” and had no more questions asked.

It was already dark when I began to think about my options on where to sleep that night.

I checked out local bridges, but they were already occupied with various levels of life.

I kept walking, enjoying the city at night, to eventually get some sleep in a park. It was cold.

The new day’s search didn’t bring anything new job/housing-wise. But I found a place inside a building. Some say it was a construction site of one of the new developments; some say I crashed a penthouse party; others think this is all a myth. Either way, the following morning, I got to see a sunrise from a decent perspective…

Not a bad way to start a day, that’s for sure. After watching the city for a while, another failed search for a miracle in the housing or the job market, I went back to the station to pick up my luggage.

And I boarded a bus that took me away from the Netherlands.

Yep, I moved again. I skipped the new chapter of life in the NL and jumped straight into another one. Yep, I didn’t see this coming either. Missteps happen. Life isn’t about planning everything from A to Z because that never works; it is about taking challenges and responding to all unexpected things in the best ways one can think of. This time, my response was to move to the UK. I am exhausted but excited, looking forward to new adventures. And you can look forward to pics from London.

Thanks to all of those who reached out with support; thank you for reading.

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Edit, July 2016:  After I moved out of the country, I thought that I was done with this chapter. Alas, my “Netherlands Experience” had a rather unpleasant aftermath; it took another ten months to settle all the cases.

If you are interested, click here to expand the sequel of the story:

At the moment I started to figure out that the NL might not work out for me, I went to the uni info point and asked about their enrollment cancellation policies, especially regarding tuition payments. Just in case. The university’s employee explicitly told me that I wouldn’t have to pay any fees as long as I withdraw before the 10th of September. I followed the instruction and did it prior to that date; in fact, I did it before any lectures commenced. I submitted the cancellation via their online system, but they haven’t gotten back to me with a confirmation besides an automated reply thanking me for the submission and saying they will process it. This didn’t seem too odd, as the communication during my application process several months ago wasn’t stellar either. I thought that this was just the way it is. However, about a month later, I received an email from the university apologizing for the late response, followed by a statement that I would have to pay the tuition.

“It has to be some mistake,” I thought, and wrote them a polite objection, explaining that I followed instructions given to me by a person in charge at their own information desk. This email received a prompt response, letting me know that the “colleagues at the Student Information Point have informed you incorrectly” and that I need to pay. But they offered that I could submit a remonstrance about this case. Clearly, that’s what I did. However, again, I got no reply, no resolution, or a message that the matter was in progress. Since I had no information about their decision, I did not pay anything.

Meanwhile, I got many emails offering me some housing in the Netherlands. Most emails I received from a company said they will contact me as soon as they have a room, within a week. It wasn’t a week; the first offer I received from them was over a month later, when I was in London already. Every time I got such an email, I replied that I was no longer in need of accommodation and that I’d appreciate it if they would remove my email from their database. Depends on the company; sometimes, it took one click to solve it; other times, I had to send them dozens of emails before they finally got the memo that I was not going to do business with them. Frustrating.

Time flew, no communication, no update. “Maybe it’s all over,” I guessed. But then, about a week before Christmas, I received a letter – not from the uni, but from a Dutch debt-collecting company, informing me that execution will follow if the sum isn’t paid in full within a few days. “They lied to me, and now I have to pay for the mess? ... Lovely gift!” I sighed and began to read a ton of documents about the Dutch law system and whether there was any chance to repeal this nonsense. But I did not find out anything reasonable I could do besides paying them. So, that’s what, with great sickness, I did.

Sod it! This was a huge hit to me; I suddenly forgot all the good about the Netherlands altogether and said that this was the last money they’ll ever see from me. No way will I fuel at Shell, buy their cheese, and whatever else they produce. I also voiced the issue around me – if my friends were about to buy some Dutch vegetables, I deployed a persuading speech concluding with something like “Such a purchase will contribute towards the greater evil on this planet.” I know one should forgive one’s enemies, but since they showed zero sympathy for me, I adopted their approach towards them. I wasn’t happy with the situation, and I wanted to extend the reach of my story.

At the end of January, I was getting ready to submit the case to some television, making it blow to the broad public. However, before I did, I received a letter from the Faculty Director’s office that my objection had escaped their notice, and that I would have my fees refunded. My first reaction was, “An institute of communication and journalism has a response time of four months?!” But this was instantly erased with an optimistic vision that things would actually turn out fine. If there’s a way to solve this peacefully, yes, I am all in.

So, I provided them with all the details needed to complete the transaction and waited. It was March already, and nothing had happened. After I sent a kind reminder about the situation, I received a reply saying that I have to contact a different office about this; it’s not their thing. So, I sent another email to the office they mentioned, only to get that they can’t do anything in this matter either, but that I should contact yet another office. The following month, I spent sending emails to addresses I was given, but with no result. Damnit, but I kept going. Instead of sending an email to one address at a time, I added a lot of uni email addresses I could find to the recipients list and sent another request for an update. After another two weeks of no communication, I repeated the procedure. And again, after another week. Finally, things started to move.

Still, it was far from a smooth finish. They said I must pay them a manipulation fee before they send the refund. “Nope,” I thought. The Faculty Director’s office said nothing about any extra charges. So, instead of responding and paying them more money, I sent my case to all the uni departments instead. Only days passed and I got an email stating: “It has been paid yesterday.” Pfff.

Back in Utrecht, that faculty member said, “If it ain’t Dutch, it ain’t much.” However, the version I got to experience was that if it was Dutch, it was a hellhole of troubles and complications. Maybe I just was at the wrong time with the wrong people, maybe. No one will return the time, nerves, and banking fees I lost during this, but the tuition was indeed refunded, and if anything, it was an interesting life experience. Since the case eventually ended the way it did, I might buy Dutch cheese again one day.

 

 

Edit, July 2022: The story goes on. Many things have happened since moving to London; multiple countries and two university degrees later, I started to think that seeing the Netherlands again with different eyes could be interesting. I came here earlier this month.

At first, it felt like I picked it up where I left off: After I arrived in the country by train, I boarded a bus and wanted to buy a ticket from the driver. The card reader didn't work, and the driver didn't take cash. He sent me to get a ticket from the station. "Could you wait for me?" I asked, and the driver nodded. "Great!" So, I ran into the station, got a ticket asap, and ran back. Only to find out that the bus was gone. "Oh-uh!" But that was it! Since I got on the next bus, believe it or not, it's been an absolute pleasure. I've liked what I saw, I've met fine people, and was given opportunities to reflect on changes, circumstances, second chances, and many other topics. I will write something about it later; stay tuned.