I apologize upfront if my paraphrasing of a biblical quotation brought you here under false pretenses, but I’m in a bit of a quank.
Quank. You know, a cross between a funk and a quandary.
What difficult situation has me in these depths of despair?
My beloved neighborhood Albert Heijn grocery store is closed for renovations.
Not for a simple update, mind you, but major renovations. As in being closed for TWO FULL WEEKS.
Typing those last few words has almost forced me to take to my bed to lie in a darkened room with a cool cloth pressed against my forehead.
I’m ten days in and I’m not convinced that I’ll make it through this.
Anyone who’s followed this blog for any period of time will know three things: I write so much about Albert Heijn that I ought to own shares of their stock, the company should be partially subsidizing the costs of running this site, and I’m at the point where I need to add a new category just for posts that mention my favorite chain of grocery stores.
So I’ve actually gone ahead and created the latter. It seems that I now have twenty three posts that fall into this new category, including today’s. [For the less informed in the crowd, take your pick. You can catch up by taking a crash course in all things Albert Heijn by reading such fare as Kleine Dingen (Little Things), Mijn Bediende (My Clerk) and Cultural Lessons Gleaned in a Grocery Store.]
Twenty three. Lest you write me off as a pathetic woman with nothing better to do in life than wax eloquently about her local grocery store, understand this: my Albert Heijn is more, much more than simply a store.
Before you mutter ‘get a life’, let me explain. (And BTW, I DO happen to have a life, a very interesting, somewhat balanced and occasionally exciting one, thank you very much.)
My Albert Heijn is the microcosm of Nederland in which I immerse myself several days a week. Sure, I may walk in there with the day’s shopping list but I walk out with illustrative insights into Dutch economic, political, cultural, historical and social nuances.
I’ve learned about major and minor holidays throughout the year and the special foods served on those days.
From the donation box parked nest to the plastic bottle recycling machine I’ve learned about the wide range of charities the Dutch hold dear. They’re also big on caring for the environmental.
I’ve learned about popular culture from the special promotions and giveaways based on totalled purchases. The trading cards of famous current and past Dutch voetbal players were a hit, as are the Disney character figurines being offered right now. (Mickey Mouse still prevails, yet I’ve even been instructed on the entirely different Dutch names given to some of them.)
I’ve observed how the Dutch approach personal space (or lack thereof), spending patterns, what they choose to import, their banking and payment systems, and how they interact with internationals residing in their country and helping to clog their store aisles.
Not to mention the obvious: what foods they eat, how often and in what manner these are prepared.
The thing is, I’ve gone native. For food shopping, that is.
Two and a half years here and I’ve totally tossed away the American suburban model of driving to a grocery story once a week to stock up.
Land and physical space are at a premium here. Stores don’t contain as many square feet (or meters, rather); ditto for most homes, with smaller kitchens and less storage space. Hence the food and other items turn over faster and are re-stocked more often.
I’ve taken to wholly embraced shopping in the European manner: done almost daily, a quick in and out to see what’s fresh and gather the makings for the evening meal and a few other items to tide us over until the next day’s visit.
Now you understand my dilemma. I’m in withdrawl.
It’s not simply that I have to plan further ahead and make a special trip to one of the other stores in the area. I’m without my daily fix of being immersed in this most resplendent slice of Dutch culture, and I desperately miss it. Plain and simple, I miss it.
And I want it back.
If you think this withdrawal period is tough, wait till it re-opens. You won’t have a clue where anything is, the entire layout having been changed. New products will entice you from the gleaming shelves while familiar staples will have disappeared altogether. Two weeks after the re-opening of OUR local AH I’m exhausted, confused and irritable – it’s sadistic to do this to shoppers only weeks before Christmas!
Oh dear, this is definitely a case of ‘be careful what you wish for’. I’m keenly awaiting and fearing it’s reopening at the same time…
I think a space like your grocery store is perfect to deepen understanding of the society you are now a part of! I think once I started working I began to understand the way Jamaicans think and behave. It all began to make sense. Don’t worry, you WILL get your grocery store back! I feel like I would like to go on a trip there myself…
Oh I’ll get it back alright, but as Wordgeyser has shared, it won’t be what I’m expecting. Whenever I think of, experience or write about cultural differences, I always keep in mind that ‘different doesn’t have to mean better or worse, only different’. Right now I’m chanting a silent mantra in my head that goes: Different AND Better! Different AND Better! (It’s what keeps me going)
I love your blog. And my husband just told me they own Martins and Giant here in Virginia.
My husband and I are going to be in our new home in Domburg at the end of Jan. I can’t even belive we have sold our house closed our business and Wed the shippers come for our things.
Last time when on holiday in Domburg it took me 3 hours to get my food. I found myself just standing and looking at all the meats. I was so taken back by the little pull carts they has. Yes I even started to take pictures of them. It’s safe to say my hubby was not with me lol . Then again I remember 12 years ago when it was his first time shopping for food in America.
Thank you so much Debbie. WOW, things HAVE been moving quickly for you! That is great that you have sold your house and settled your business, two things that aren’t easy in a tough economy. You must have been working so hard, so once the shippers leave I hope you take time to rest up and enjoy the holidays. Some people put their big toe in first but you will be jumping into the Dutch culture: plenty of shocks ahead but you’ll come through fine. You’ve got family (and will make friends) to help you, and you’ve got a sense of humor and the ability to put it all in perspective (like remembering your husband’s first time grocery shopping in the US). Take care and I’ll be in touch. I’m off to look up Domburg on the map!
Linda, I get it! I’ve now repatriated back to the US and am still shopping in the European way. Thank goodness I’ve landed in NYC where one can go everywhere on foot and frequent the green markets for seasonal fruits and veg. Otherwise I’d be hopelessly maladjusted! Every time I imagine my compatriots getting in cars to collect the week’s groceries, I feel so sorry for them. Why don’t they get it? Hang in there — just another week! 🙂
I’m sure they think (as I did when I was doing it) that it’s less time-consuming and more convenient to do it on a weekly basis, all at once. But I’ve come to enjoy the walking for shopping and errands (plus it’s good exercise); others do it by bike which is pure, unadulterated fun. I relax and enjoy the neighborhood vibe on the street, take in the sights and feel a part of things. It’s definitely easier to shop this way in cities or small villages, and you’ve picked the city that never sleeps!
Oh that brings back so many memories! I met my English husband in Den Haag (via Australia) and ended up living in Nederland for 6 years. AH was also my favourite place, for all the reasons you have listed – and whenever we go back I pop in to stock up on all things kaneeltje, vla, stroopwaffles, crabsla, chocomel…..even Zwitsal products…..
I guess you’ll have to peddle further afield and find a back up AH (which I misread as CH and actually called it “CH” when I first arrived, haha!)
Thanks for the memories, I shall go and read more of your blogs.
Cheers,
Maryjane
Welkom Maryjane and thank you. Just sent a Sinterklaas package to my son in university back in the US, complete with chocolate letter and stroopwaffles! I’ve visited two other AHs so far, and while they are nice (one really nice), they aren’t MY AH. Just a few days more, trying to hang in there…
Hehehehe so familiar! But I miss the big shops with a huge selection, I would love to have one in my area. I dream of 24 shopping at Woolies, but that will never happen anytime soon here in NL.
Recently the AH near work also closed for renovation and expansion. I thought I would miss it more than I really did. The cashier asked me when I went if I went to a different location “Nope, just brought food from home”… which I still do now. So it actually helped me ditch the AH addiction! Poor AH 😉
Know what you mean Lisa. Having to make arrangements to walk or drive to another AH has cut down on splurge purchases. I also realize that I saw my neighbors more since we often tended to see each other on the way to/from AH after 5 pm!
I have been thinking of you during this closure time! 🙂
I am also caught off guard at the place of prominence that little store holds in our lives here. I didn’t realize its ubiquity until it was gone and there was nothing to fill the gap!
We’ve walked twice up Scheveningseweg to the AH on Keizerstraat. I should be thankful as it’s kept us alive. Okay, that’s an overstatement, but you get my point. You may be closer to the Jumbo?
You learn something new every day. I never realised there was a ‘European’ way to shop (i.e. daily) and the rest of the world. That would take some getting used to and, then, just like that, you’ve temporarily lost your beloved newly found routine.
I’ll be thinking of you during this difficult time… 🙂
Thanks, the pain is definitely psychological, not physical. It’s not exactly a European/rest of the world split. The European tendency toward daily shopping is practiced in many heavily urban areas of the world, as well as in other countries/regions. Of course that isn’t to say that if you live in a rural or suburban area of a European country that you don’t do as most Americans do: plan for the weekly shopping trip and hop in the car. But you get the general point. Two days left…
The (very)little ‘mall’ in which our AH is situated is being rejuvenated (if that is correct English) and so it is very difficult to get parkingspace. So, we got AH discountcoupons, how Dutch is that? But it really comes in handy now with christmassshopping around.
BTW I love your blog, which i stumbled upon..
Dank u wel, dat is heel vriendilijk. I’m glad you stumbled upon us. Just wait until I unveil the photos and assessment of our newly refurbished AH! Coming soon… By the way, I am intrigued with your site, too. Lovely photos and interesting posts that capture a very different culture. It’s raining and very high winds here tonight, so you know I am enjoying a very Dutch winter’s eve.
Haha! Yes, I recognize the almost daily shopping. And you know what, here in American suburbia, I still do it. But now I don’t do it because my fridge and storage space are small, but because in this car society, it’s one of the only ways to walk among other human beings!
When I read the title of your post, I thought it was going to be about the small shopping carts for kids. My daughter was wondering if they’re still there. I’ll browse your blog some more.
Thanks Barbara. When my AH was being renovated, I truly realized that I’d rather not go back to weekly grocery shopping if it meant having to get in the car and drive. I now drive a fraction of what I had to back in the US, and find it freeing. I love to drive, but I’m happiest when it’s to/from a new place or somewhere interesting, not for errands. Our AH here in The Hague is pretty crowded so I recall seeing the mini carts a couple of times, but not recently. But I see them on the television commercials so I bet they are more prevalent in less crowded stores.