When I arrived in The Netherlands I stayed at the Ibis Hotel in The Hague centre. The room was basic. Plain white linen, light green curtains and a strange capsule-like toilet and shower cubicle elevated above floor level – a kind of out of space desolation. There were no small touches I can recall, not even a flower in a vase or a patterned throw on the bed. The only thing that stood out in my mind was an odd sign warning guests that they will be charged an extra fee for smoking marijuana in the room.
The emptiness of the room temporarily numbed me but I was happy to rest my head on a comfortable pillow and call a new place home. On the first morning of my stay I pulled open the curtains to find a view of a large stone church and some trees. The view alone was worth it. I was to live in a place with a visible history, with fascinating old Dutch architecture, and more importantly, with a people who, to me, seemed a humble, genuine folk.
And then I did something I rarely do. I turned on the television in my hotel room. Immediately, the words ‘De Beste Singer Songwriter van Nederland’ (‘The Best Singer Songwriter of The Netherlands’) flashed across the screen. In South Africa I dreaded the hype of reality talent shows like Idols. I really loved listening to the singers perform (most of whom were really awful but highly entertaining), but the show always felt so artificial, so out of touch with real life and what it is like to be an artist. A lump formed in my throat as the performers and judges appeared on the screen. ‘Oh no. Not now,’ I thought but kept on watching since this new culture and language would be a learning curve for me and I wanted to absorb as much of it as possible.
And I’m glad I kept watching because I was pleasantly surprised. This Dutch talent show was a breathe of fresh air and there was something very authentic and raw about it. In fact, when I saw Maaike Ouboter’s performance, nothing in this world could possibly be more humbling, real and true. I couldn’t help but cry.
There is not much else to say, as my words do not come close to describing how I feel about her performance – a performance that important marks a new chapter in my life. And her words, ‘Dat ik je mis’ (I miss you), resonate strongly with me. A new chapter doesn’t mean the dissolution of older ones. A new chapter strengthens the memories, alters, rewrites and upholds the stories of our past.
Elizabeth Joss-Bethlehem
Elizabeth Joss-Bethlehem is the founder and main writer at The Museum Times. She works as a university lecturer by day and is an avid travel blogger and arts and culture enthusiast by night. Elizabeth started The Museum Times out of the need to give smaller, lesser-known museums more exposure.
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Beautiful, hadn’t heard the song before Elizabeth! Great blog!