Hail to the Rails

 

Raising “Rails” to Rotterdam

During my recent travels to the Netherlands, I included a stop in the port City of Rotterdam, my birthplace.

I took the 9:15 slow train from Amsterdam to collect my thoughts about my beginnings and my new beginnings, and remembered there have been more than a few such occasions in this 68 year lifespan. 

In a sense life has a beginning and it eventually comes to an end; but, in between there are many beginnings and ends, dead ends, bad ends, wonderful ends, and then the door remains open for whatever intrigue shows up! I call it an upgrade, a refresh, a new journey to journalese — quasi fictionally, to create and share.

So on this slow train journey, I travelled through vast areas of countryside, on a beautiful August day, seeing cows in pastures, many tiny forests, green spaces, farms, industrial buildings, villages and towns, waterways and windmills — the iconic symbol of the Netherlands.

Yes, windmills — an engineering marvel of the Dutch, with a lifespan from which the entire world still learns.

Just like in a human life, the windmills have evolved and their uses diversified, still useful, still appreciated, effective and efficient; and, despite being minimalized, sometimes shunned and dismissed as archaic, they still stand tall and proud. 

Just writing that sentence made me think of a correlation. “Tall and proud” is how I describe my feelings about my diversified life from baby in the Netherlands, to child in a hamlet of 300 people, to my first taste of city life as a teenager. I learned my best English and French in grade school and Universities, and my worst from the streets.

I joined the movement to support French and English bilingualism as a sign of respect to the two countries that abruptly invaded the Canadian part of Turtle Island. I deemed it to be such a great idea, with enormous potential. I endured the related scorn and prejudices, and never walked away from trying to make it work, while at the same time showing respect and honour to all indigenous peoples — the original “windmills” of our world. They have never given up either and now the reconciliation movement has created an awakening which I fully support. It, like windmills, has great potential and I’m glad more people are catching on.

I joined a political party in the hopes of bridging the gap in the quest to form an officially bilingual country. That noble mission, much like the windmill, is still real, and, despite the scorn and negativity thrown my way, I have never backed away. It, too, will likely come to pass long after I am off this train of life. As a frequent traveller, I know the value of being functional in more than one language. I will never give up hope! The potential is enormous.

I could go on but I think I have made my point. Cheers to my birthright! Cheers to the survival of the windmill. Cheers to people who stand up for harmless ideas that have great potential.

As I journey onwards to Rotterdam Centraal, and journey on in this remarkable actual and metaphoric train ride of life, with ongoing station stops of learning spurts, new tastes, sights, smells, and feelings at the forefront of my mind  — this train ride and the survival of the windmill technology of the Netherlands around the world, speaks to the reality and metaphor of life moving forward. Believe and it can happen.

For all of the above, I stand tall and proud, as a Dutchie, a bilingual Canadian, with one heart, one mind, one mission:  for as long as the train travels forward and I breathe, eat, sleep and love, my passions, my beliefs and my efforts to grease the squeaky wheels will never end.

I raise a “rail” 🍷 to my trip to Rotterdam. The 50 minute slow ride was enlightening and enriching. It enabled me to play with correlation and connection— two concepts that are often ignored or dismissed as silly or non-sensical all too often.