The monkey made me do it

Makes you wonder

I grew up in a very non-traditional household (waiting for the *GASP* of surprise........ waiting....... waiting..........) (jerks) where snippets of traditional Dutch culture were woven in with questionable assumptions of American culture and real-life oddities that were brought about by living in a bizarre little logging town and attending a church where old people yelled at no one in an unintelligible language and the only reaction from the congregation was to slow the music down.

I'm sure other people have experienced this too, though - where you go about your business, living life and doing things according to how you were raised, and then all of a sudden someone from outside your immediate family stops you and says "Ummm, I'm not sure if you know this but Spanish Rice is actually not made by combining plain white rice and ketchup."

Right?

My parents decided to not teach us the Dutch language as children, I think for fear that we would stand out even more than we already did in our tiny little adopted community. Both of them remained fluent, but they would only speak the language when they were discussing our Christmas presents in front of us (yes, mean). My sister took German in high school to try to break the code, but unfortunately the differences were too great. The only Dutch they taught us came in the form of my mother refusing to say "I have to go to the bathroom" while in public and therefore teaching us the Dutch phrase (something like "Ich neech nada vey say"), some food names (Hagelslacht! Woo!)(Hagelslacht = probably misspelled, but it's chocolate sprinkles made of GOOD stuff and usually served with butter on warm toast)(mmm), and two children's chant/songs which I will now share with the e-world even though I have no idea how to spell the things or if I'm even remembering them right.

The first one was sung whenever we were road-tripping and they sensed that the youngin's were antsy. It's very sing-songy, and goes thus:
"A-saint-a baaaay-nah, a-saint a baaaaay-nah
Ma-nocht neeeecht HAY-le-maaaah (echo: HAY-le-mah!)
A-saint-a baaaay-nah, a-saint a baaaay-nah
Ma-nocht neecht HAY-LE-MAH. (echo: hay-le-mah!)"
I'm not sure if we were really supposed to do the echoes, but they sure were catchy once you got started. It translates to: "We're almost there, we're almost there, but not quite all way (all the way!)".

I'm sure it's a big hit in the Netherlands.

The second is what really got me thinking. I'm pretty sure we weren't supposed to hear this one, and I can't really remember which family member it was that taught it to us (certainly not my father or mother). It was stuck in my head all last weekend, and has disturbed me since then.
It goes:
"Melk es goot ver elk, et nyet ver Jan, e peester van"
Translation:
"Milk is good for everyone, but not for John, he pees from it."

I'm probably mangling the original Dutch, but I swear on all that is holy that the translation is exactly what I learned as a child.

This is kind of why I'm a little frightened to take a vacation to the family's origins in Holland. Who on earth WERE these people and why is all that came with us to America cheese, chocolate, plates, and a warning about lactose intolerance?

posted by LadyJay @ 3:32 PM