I started intensive Dutch lessons yesterday, putting on hold the job search for the next month. I've been in the Netherlands for a little under two months now and have managed to pick up a few essentials but they tend to be a hodgepodge of nouns with very few conjunctions, verbs or adjectives. Basically, I can point and name vegetables, fruits and beers.
The next month will find me in class from 9.30 to noon everyday and studying at home from 12.30 until the wee hours, cramming in over three thousand words. It sounds impressive and I can already attest to the amount of work involved, but this weekend, Jason stole their thunder. He taught me the greatest Dutch word in existence.
We were at an outdoor field hockey match on a rainy cold Sunday when I learned it. I was wet and chilled and as we walked past a french fry stand, the smell of warm, greasy potatoes wafted over, filling the air with one of life's sweetest smells. And, you gotta love them, the Dutch have a word for it -- pataatlucht, or 'sweet potato air'.
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