Of Hans Brinker, Toilet and Water Management

The previous YouTube video makes for a refreshing diversion from my usual text and photo uploads. I hope in the future I am able to upload Sadia’s latest adventures onto this site.

Where was I? Oh yes, Hans Brinker.

He is the Dutch boy who became famous all around the world for sticking his finger into a dyke overnight, in the freezing cold, so as to prevent it from breaking up and cause a major flood in the (flat)land.

But when you ask most locals about him, you will, more often than not, get a quizzical look as though you are talking rubbish or making things up. And if you didn’t know this yet - the Dutch are not prone to exaggeration nor are they forgetful, so you are left feeling perplexed and dissatisfied. Where did you go wrong?

The answer lies in the fact that little Hansje is NOT real. That is, he was a fictitious character created by an American author, with her own fanciful (and expansive, if I might add) impression of the Netherlands. His story as told in the book Hans Brinker (or The Silver Skates) became so believable that other people that migrated into the country (and familiar with the story) insisted that a statue (or two) be erected to commemorate his heroic deed. Talk about art imitating life!

This fact and countless others on the Netherlands’ culture, quirks and other oddities are described with much levity in “The Dutch, I presume?” , by Dutch’s own native, Martijn de Rooi .

My husband procured the book during the first session of his classes last September, possibly serves as a great starting point – an indispensable window - into the world of all things Dutch.

The book is quite resourceful for us since it gives us either a foresight or hindsight to those pop culture references, icons and idiosyncrasies we see and deal with everyday whilst dwelling in Delft.

One such ubiquitous characteristic that is exceptionally Dutch lies (pun intended) in its toilet. As de Rooi amusingly explained in his book “‘There’s no doubt about it, says an American. I’ve been living here long enough and I know the Dutch. If they can’t see land above water, they’re not happy’.”

Jokes aside, I first noticed this deep plateau of a Dutch toilet when we stayed overnight at the Vermeer’s Hotel. Unlike seated toilets in other countries which are filled with water, the typical Dutch toilet is separated into two ‘floors’ or gradations – the first stage hosts an ample space of flat terrain that drops, at right angle, into the second stage - a small, narrowed recess. Herein contains an even smaller amount of toilet water.

Theories from the non-Dutch abound as to the reasons behind the Dutch’s preference for the ‘shallow flusher’, as de Rooi put it. One theory revolves on the Dutch’s inborn propensity to manage their water resources (I can already imagine the advertising banner for this – Waste Not Your Waste! (hehe)) and another theorizes on the deep-rooted need to analyze and order everything. However, de Rooi debunked these myths and elucidated that the Dutch’s close inspection of their waste is matter-of-factly quite beneficial, particularly for children’s health and, that the ‘dry’ and shallow toilet speaks of practicality by way of NOT splashing back on one’s derriere.

To say the least, seeing (and smelling) one’s waste mounting up on the dry plateau is quite a disgusting and reek-full business. And to make matters worse, our only toilet in the apartment is built onto an enclosed area with no ventilation, thus enabling the smell to permeate the whole toilet unit!

The combination of a deep leveled space and an airless toilet leaves one with the following options: (a) a one-off, swift performance that flushes immediately and (b) a staccato-like act of passing motion that calls for multi-flushing in between takes. Undoubtedly, both alternatives deflect anyone from thoroughly enjoying any reading time in the loo.

We finally circumvented this slew of problems by buying a fragrant household spray which now finds its permanent place inside the toilet. I do think such sprays are imperative in the grocery list of an average Dutch consumer. That, or the aid of eucalyptus and other scented oils to mask the odour of human bio-waste(s).

Or, they should try (dis)solving it the Japanese way – a potent drop (or two) of some concoction the Japanese had invented – which finds its place on the shelves of Malaysian’s selected supermarkets and departmental stores. Originally produced for usage in malodorous public toilets such as the ones inexhaustibly available in Malaysia, this drop will definitely come handy in Dutch-orientated toilets. Like those velcroed-on-the-wall ‘spritz’ sprays and a gamut of household sprays, I predict this Japanese creation will be a hit once it arrives on Dutch shores, provided the price is right for these frugal lot!