Exactly like the title says. I needed a way to vent things and this seemed like the perfect way to do so anonymously.
Questions are such fun.
Hope you enjoy, if anyone ever reads it.
One in my proper language ‘cause that’s the best way I can describe it.
Eén is de moeder van 2 kinderen, haar ‘ventje’ is samen met een ander meisje van mijn lagere school en nog een ander is nu zwanger van haar vriend waarvoor ze helemaal naar de andere kant van het land verhuisd is en die geen slechte commentaar duldt. Zet het dan ook ni op facebook.
Nieuwe regel: neemt geen kinderen als ge nog spelden draagt van bij de Joepie.
- Dutch teacher: Now, tell me what you thought about the book we just read.
- Me: I'm sorry, but I get the feeling that every time we read a book or see a movie, we get to say what we think just so you could tell me afterwards that what I perceived as a vice, is in fact a virtue.
- Dutch teacher: Well, I'm sorry, but I let you read these books because I'm convinced that they have had an influence on Dutch literature. I know you probably won't like these books now, but at your age, I loved it. But then again, I read a lot and I have a diploma for what I'm doing now. You're absolutely allowed to dislike it, but you can not have a well-developed opinion about it due to your age and lack of reading quality novels and an overflow of childish chicklit.
- What I should have said: Oh, yes, you're absolutely right. After all, 'The diary of Anne Frank' could probably easily be reduced to a childish game of hide and seek. And 'The Phantom of the Opera' is so cliché, boy meets girl is a typical chicklit-subject. And I almost forgot to mention that 'Animal Farm' hasn't meant anything for literature, but was just another fairy tale. Tell me, that diploma you're talking about, did you actually study for it or did it just come for free with the toy in the cereal box?
- What I said: Okay.
I will give away some info about me. I live in Belgium. With that said, any fellow Belgian would ask me in which part. Brussels, Flanders or ‘that other piece’. But I’m not going to discuss that problem, we have politicians pretending to be solving that problem.
But what I would like to share with you, are the issues I’m having with the multicultural aspect of where I live. Before you leave this page thinking I’m a racist (or worship me, yelling ‘Heil alackofimagination’, thinking I’m a racist): I’m not. I just find it hard sometimes because they are in fact so very different at times, despite what everyone tries to tell us. For instance: their believe. I’m a christian, you see, but I’m a christian like 3 quarters of Belgium: I believe that there’s some kind of afterlife, because it would be so sad for the loved ones we’ve already lost if there is indeed no ‘passing on’. Granted, I could just as well be a Buddhist and believe in reincarnation, but I happened to grow up in Western Europe and people mostly believe in that big, bearded man and his magical wonderboy Jesus. Do I believe he walked on water? Do I believe he could turn i-don’t-care-how-many-breads into enough loafs of bread to feed an entire crowd? No. Probably not. But who cares, honestly?
I like history and so, if historici have enough evidence to prove he really did exist, why wouldn’t I believe that? He may or may not have been God’s son, but I don’t see why that is of any importance because, according to the Bible, we are ALL children of The Holy Man. I don’t care if he had a wife and children, I wouldn’t even care the slightest bit if he was gay (allthough that would be kind of contradictory with his own belief), what matters to me is that he was a good man. I haven’t read the entire Bible, but having grown up in a highly christian environment, I heard a lot of stories. The children Bible was my favourite book, and why wouldn’t it be? They’re all like fairytales! Joseph had several dreams and hell, they came true! He saved an entire country, just because he told the Pharao he had a dream about cows!
And that’s where our beliefs seem to clash. Most of the christians are prepared to see the morale behind the stories and move on. They teach us something, and it just happens to be nicely wrapped up in a science-fiction story. Whereas, muslims believe that everything in the Koran should be respected and is nothing but the truth. And for all I care, they follow every rule in the Bible as well, even where it says you can’t sit on the same chair as where a woman has sat that was menstruating at the time. Good luck to you avoiding that when going to a restaurant.
I couldn’t care any less what they think is true and whether or not, it should be executed. I don’t think their belief is any better or worse than mine. It’s probably just as bad and just as good at the same time. Theirs has its faults, theirs has its benefits, just like mine. They can even get into my afterlife, allthough I wouldn’t see why anyone would trade their ultimate Paradise for my heaven, constantly eating pudding with golden spoons. Why can’t I get into theirs? Why do they talk to me like I’m less worthy than them, just because my bearded second ‘dad’ doesn’t really have a problem with me not going to church every sunday and not fasting for 40 days on end? If I don’t have a problem with you commenting on my, according to you, boobs falling out of my shirt, why would you have any problem with me saying I don’t see a reason why you should be allowed to follow a ‘islam-class’ instead of Christianity-religionlessons? I’m assuming nobody forced you into going to a christian school.
Anyways, to end a long sermon (what an appropriate word on this topic): can’t you accept us for who we are, no matter what we believe? You give me calorie-full cookies for the sugarfeast and I’ll give you chocolate bunnies for Easter.
Does anybody know how bad it feels to know your boyfriend liked you much better with your long hair? And that you liked it better too? And that you decided to let it grow and feel better about yourself again? And that the hairdresser then cuts without your asking for it?
I can thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare to try.