Русские в Гааге – The Russians of The Hague

Two sides of the same coin

The recent exodus of Ukrainian refugees is not an unfamiliar sight in the European continent. Ever since the 2015 European migrant crisis, there has been an influx of refugees settling in Europe. Three former refugees from Africa, Southeast Asia and the Middle East take us through their stories of leaving behind their homes as they reflect upon the familiarity of the Ukrainian refugee crisis.

In this fragment you hear Mo Hersi, a 37 year old comedian and public figure from Ethiopia. Mo was only 3 years old when him and his family fled in 1988 from the violence in their home country amidst the Ethiopian Civil War.

We meet him in the library in Almere where he regularly performs his stand-up, and he talks us through his journey to the Netherlands. Although he was just a toddler when he arrived in the Netherlands, he remembers in great detail how his family travelled to Saudi Arabia before they made the trek to Europe. Leaving Saudi Arabia, Mo and his family arrived in Paris after which they travelled to Brussels by train before finally seeking asylum in the Netherlands.

‘We were at the refugee camp in Slagharen, in the East of the Netherlands’ Mo tells us. ‘It’s right across from an amusement park. An amusement park for ponies, I don’t know who decided to build a refugee centre across from a pony park he adds.

The pony park resembles a stark difference between the life Mo lived as a young refugee as opposed to his peers. He recounts how his mother would wake him up at 7 am on Fridays to make their way to the Slagharen townhall. Every week the refugees in Slagharen had to get a stamp, to prove that they hadn’t left the centre without permission. The stakes for getting the stamp were high, refugees who missed the timeframe on Fridays risked not having food for their families the following week.

This new world Mo lived in was vastly different than the life the civil war had so forcefully taken from him and his family. His father used to work for a diplomat in Ethiopia, so his family lived a very comfortable life pre-civil war. It is something not a lot of people expect to hear from a refugee.

It is the misconception that western people often have about refugees that is currently being challenged by the Ukrainian refugee crisis. TRT World published a video detailing the obtuse way in which various Western news reported have reported on the war in Ukraine. In the clip CBS Reporter Charlie D’Agata is seen saying that, unlike Iraq or Afghanistan, Ukraine is a ‘relatively civilized, relatively European’ nation. D’Agata has since apologized for his statement.

Words like those uttered by D’Agata hurt. Especially to other non-Ukrainian refugees whose experience in the Dutch refugee system are vastly different from the Ukrainian refugees.

We speak with Somia who is a 22-year-old student in the Hague where she studies European Studies. She was 17 years old when she fled Afghanistan with her family.  As we sit down with her, she tells us how difficult it has been for her to restart her life upon arrival in the Netherlands. Although she is thankful for the things, she has gained in the Netherlands such as women’s rights and independence, the long and frustrating process still leaves a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

Back in May, institutions of higher education in the Netherlands send a joint letter to the Minister of Education urging the cabinet to ease the financial burdens for Ukrainian students seeking refuge in the Netherlands so they can continue their studies as soon as possible. Somia has also seen this news come by as she has followed the developments of the Ukrainian crisis closely due to the nature of her studies.

‘It makes me angry, to be honest’ Somia tells us. ‘Because when I first came here, I also wanted to start, I was 17 and I wanted to finish high school, start my studies. I could have been finishing my masters by now.’ She adds. It saddens her she did not get this chance. Somia tells us how she used to bug organizations everyday to help her apply for scholarships. And although she is happy with her studies right now, she can’t help but feel like the last 5 years have been wasted years.

Although she does not begrudge the Ukrainian refugees for the help they are getting from the Dutch society, Somia does find it difficult to not see the Dutch eagerness to help hypocritical.

Somia is not alone in her feelings of being treated unfairly; being discriminated against. Mo recognizes this double-edged sword. As a former refugee, of course he feels glad that the Ukrainian refugees are getting the help they need, but he also can’t help but be frustrated with the discrimination refugees of colour face trying to flee out of the war-torn country.

In the long-run, the complexity that is the Dutch refugee system might be what will cause difficulties for Ukrainian refugees in the Netherlands the same way it has caused difficulties for other non-Ukrainian refugees in the past. Someone who knows as no other what it is like to be at the whim of the Dutch refugee system and its uncertainties is Monjid. We meet him online as he squeezes us in his busy schedule finishing his thesis.  

Monjid is a 33-year-old student in International Studies, specializing in Middle-Eastern Studies and has been residing in the Netherlands for 6 and a half years following his departure of Iraq. A few months ago he was finally appointed his own permanent accommodation in the Netherlands but getting to this point has been nothing short of rough.

 It was midnight when Monjid fled his country, leaving behind his home and his family. ‘I didn’t know when I crossed the sea if I would be successful or not; if I will manage to cross the sea or not. If I will die or not” he tells us. He can talk about it now that he is safe and well but at the time of his voyage these uncertainties were the only thing on his mind.

Luckily, Monjid survived crossing the sea, however, the difficulties didn’t stop there. After he reported himself to the police the Dutch Immigration Service confiscated all his documents and for the next few months, he was thrown in a limbo moving from refugee centre to refugee centre as he was moved across the country.

After while he was appointed a temporary accommodation; a small room in a shared house. In this new accommodation, however, Monjid felt unsafe – for personal safety reasons we were requested to not disclose further information about this – and made a request to move somewhere else. the unfortunate encounter he had with the municipality official who was in charge of his case left him homeless with no health insurance and no address. Despite the fact that we speak to him online, we hear the frustration in his voice.  

Monjid was lucky to find a wealthy couple who was willing to host him after being left to fend for himself for over a year. And this concept of luck is what is wrong with the Dutch refugee system according to Monjid. ‘There is a system for everything in the Netherlands but when it comes to asylum or refugees there is no system. ‘You are either lucky or you are not’ he tells us.

Mo recognizes the struggles Monjid tells us about. Aside from his own experiences as refugee, as ambassador for VluchtelingenWerk Nederlands –  an organization which watches over the interests of refugees –  Mo has first hand experience in the complex processes refugee organizations have to go through to in order to help asylum seekers get refugee status in the Netherlands. He also worries that the eagerness of the Dutch people to care for the Ukrainian refugees may only be short-lived, after which they will be subjected to the whimsical nature of the Dutch refugee system like everyone else.

Mo’s predictions seem to be spot on. As early as March, RTL Nieuws published a story reporting on desperate guest families coming back on their decisions to house Ukrainian refugees.

Waste in Laak: A Persistent Problem

Jasper Heijmans says he has a very intimate relationship with waste. He used to work as a garbage man in college, both driving the truck and working in the back, throwing in the trash bags. Growing up, 40 years ago, nobody separated trash – “we just started out with the bags and everybody just threw it out.” A lot has changed since then. 

Nowadays, waste separation is the norm – often even the law. So is the proper disposal of waste. In Laak, the neighborhood in The Hague where we talked to Mr. Heijmans, a number of issues with waste separation and disposal exist. Inhabitants are annoyed and the municipality is alarmed. Who exactly is responsible, though, depends on who you ask.

Full containers and litter on the streets

Two of the biggest problems Laak faces regarding waste management are overflowing containers and excess trash on the street. 

Although collection trucks usually arrive on time to pick up household waste, recycling containers are often full – overflowing multiple times a week. This leads to excess trash being left next to the containers, or in the worst case scenario, being thrown on the ground. 

Grace Boekel, a resident of Laak, says “there is glass everywhere, everyday” around the recycling containers by Lorentzplein. “Giant bags of plastic are often placed at the side of the bins, and sometimes there are cardboard boxes everywhere.” 

The containers are full maybe two, three times a week.

Others, like Yuri Meijer, also question why these containers are full in the first place – “they don’t seem to empty the bins as much as they should.” The paper and plastic bins are “full all the time,” leading to waste being disposed of improperly and it going “all over the place.” 

Statistically, Laak has one of the worst problems with trash on the street compared to any other district in the city.

According to the municipality’s statistics website, Laakkwartier and Spoorwijk had almost five times more reports of waste-related issues than The Hague’s average in 2021.

Further, a survey conducted by Dimensus in 2020 showed that residents of Laak were generally unhappy with the cleanliness of their district. 37% of people believed their streets were getting more dirty from the period 2016-2020, while a significant 66% of people were dissatisfied with the cleanliness of their own street. 

“It’s a mess here,” says Boekel. Even the trash that’s put out for pickup by collection trucks can turn into litter. “There’s a lot of seagulls here that peck at the garbage bags on the streets,” and again, “it gets everywhere.” 

Meijer agrees that the district “sometimes has problems with the birds,” although he believes that Laak is “generally” clean.

Unclear responsibilities

Whose fault the overflowing waste containers and littered streets are is subject to a lot of debate. In Laak, many inhabitants say it is their own responsibility.

Those cameras – mobile CCTV units positioned next to the recycling bins – are part of a pilot project of the municipality to combat the dumping of waste next to the bins. On a rotating basis, three real and two fake camera units are positioned at 19 locations in Laak and Transvaal over a period of six months. 

We contacted the municipality about this. That only Laak and Transvaal are included in the pilot, said a representative, is because these 19 locations “are places where a large amount of rubbish was dumped over the past six months.” 

Our question how individuals’ identities are supposed to be determined with the cameras in order to execute the threatened fines was left unanswered. Inhabitants of Laak, however, are generally happy about the cameras being there.

Still, the question remains what role the municipality plays in the issue itself. While individual laziness might play a role, some also argue that the government doesn’t do enough to help make things easier. 

One issue, says Max, another resident of Laak, is the difficulty in accessing information, especially in languages other than Dutch. He is not the only one who thinks so. 

We raised these issues with the municipality. In an email response, they asserted: “The municipality is aware that some people experience difficulties in offering their waste. It is therefore that the municipality did a pilot with communicating in different languages in Laak, Escamp and the City Center.” This pilot is a flyer with easily understandable instructions on how to dispose of trash correctly in Dutch, Turkish, Arabic, English, Polish, and Bulgarian. According to the evaluation of the project, the flyers were perceived well. 

To our question whether the municipality is aware of the issue of overflowing waste bins – and inhabitants urging for more frequent pick-ups – the municipality responded: “Currently, the municipality has a system of dynamic collection. Many of the containers in the city have a sensor that, when a cluster of them is 80% full, sends a signal to our collector that the containers must be emptied. As such, the issue of containers overflowing should be significantly decreased compared to a few years ago.”

In the end, though, it is only together that the municipality and inhabitants can achieve change. Both are trying – be it individuals who pick up trash flying around or the city running communication campaigns involving locals, such as the campaign “Schoon Doen We Gewoon”. 

A successful tool getting inhabitants and municipality to cooperate is the MyCleanCity-App and a corresponding webpage, with which users can report both trash on the streets as well as full or broken containers. Hannah Gläser, a student living in Laakkwartier-West, regularly uses the website to report misplaced waste. She says the process works very well: usually, after at most three days, the reported waste is gone.

Waste as a wider issue

Although surveillance is seen by many as a net-positive for Laak as a neighborhood, some see the municipality’s current policies as problematic. 

Dr. Elena Burgos Martinez is a professor of Leiden University’s Institute for Area Studies, with political ecology as her area of expertise. She believes that targeted plans which focus on Laak’s waste problem are unrepresentative of the larger issues at hand. 

There’s a tendency to think, from the perspective of other people in The Hague, that it’s just an individual thing that these people are naturally dirty, or naturally misbehaving.

Measures like the installation of security cameras pick out individuals who recycle their trash improperly. This is “convenient,” according to Dr. Burgos Martinez, “because when you blame the individual, it removes accountability from the institutions and the industry.” 

In order to solve this problem, a different solution is required. Rather than looking at individual errors, the municipality should look at the wider set of issues that affect Laak – namely “racial discrimination, as well as socioeconomic status.” 

When you look at Laak, don’t only look at the waste. How well maintained are the buildings, what are the living conditions of people there? Do you think people have a choice to wait once a week for the waste collection service? So they produce more plastic than other neighborhoods not because they want to, but because of the status and the discrimination they’re going through.

By focusing on inclusive policymaking that eases the burdens of racial discrimination and socioeconomic status, the issue of excess trash may also be mitigated. Dr. Burgos Martinez puts forward one such solution: making supermarkets like EkoPlaza more accessible for members of this community– ”why can recycling or buying products with less plastic only be for the upper classes?”

Many people in Laak see surveillance as a viable option for reducing the issue of waste in the district. However, a comprehensive approach that also tackles issues inherent in Laak, rather than the consequences of those issues that waste represents, may lead to greater changes in the neighborhood. 

Shelters in two cities: an activist’s story

I learned how it feels to be able to walk in the streets and not feel fear.

At the age of 16, Raúl Caporal had to escape from his home because his family wanted to send him to conversion therapy in order to make him straight. Now, Raúl is the president of a shelter for LGBTQ+ people in Mexico City and changes the lives of those who, like him, have to flee their home or country because they are queer.

Now that with June, pride month has started, LGBTQ+ people get more visibility again. In the Netherlands there are a lot of organisations and events supporting LGBTQ+ issues but in other countries this is often not self-evident. Mexico is one of these countries, their laws concerning queer people seem more liberal than they are in reality. Raúl gives us more insight into his personal experiences as a mexican LGBTQ+ activist.

Raúl Caporal is a 31 year old from Mexico who identifies as queer. He shares his story while sitting by a canal in Utrecht. While he is talking, he frequently expresses gratitude for the Dutch spring that is finally letting the sun warmly reflect on the water.

Raúl arrived in Utrecht in March as part of the Shelter City program, an initiative that offers safe spaces for human rights activists from all over the world to recharge and learn useful tools for their activism work. 

Raúl, speaking a mixture of Spanish and English, explains how refreshing his stay in the Netherlands has felt. While pointing at the rainbow zebra crossing near Utrecht Centraal, he confesses that he was never able in his life to walk freely in a city, without fearing for his life, until he arrived here. In fact, the main reasons why he had to leave Mexico for a couple of months were the constant death threats he was receiving and their impacts on his mental health. 

In addition to that, less than a year ago, strangers broke into his apartment in Mexico City, supposedly to intimidate him to stop his work for LGBTQ+ people. Luckily, he was not at home at the time of the incident. He recalls feeling fear after the break in, but also a mixture of courage and anger which, instead of slowing him down, empowered him to continue his work.

Raúl became aware of the challenges of simply existing as a LGBTQ+ person in Mexico from a very young age. He had to escape his home at the age of 16 because, after coming out to his family as queer, he was overwhelmed by fear as his own parents wanted to bring him to conversion therapy. 

Conversion therapy is a dangerous practice aimed at changing the sexuality or gender of LGBTQ+ people through psychological and physical interventions. Raúl explains that this practice does not lead to a change in sexuality or gender identity. Instead, it solely provokes trauma and irreversible physical and psychological consequences which are extremely damaging for LGBTQ+ youth. Conversion therapy is still legal in some Mexican states and, even when it’s illegal, the law is of punitive kind, meaning that the only possible consequence is sending the violators to jail. Most LGBTQ+ people do not report their families when they choose to bring their kids to conversion therapy because it’s hard to send your own parents to jail. 

“Well, I left my home at 16 years old because I was rejected there. It took many years to get where I am today, when I can say that I have a good relationship with my family. But this was only accomplished after I achieved my own independence. There is something very important that I need to address: there is such a thing as robbed teenage years or robbed childhood. I call it like this because there is a lot of LGBT or queer youth, like me, who had to learn to grow up very rapidly after having to leave our homes at a very young age. This has been very tough and it made me face many risky situations and a lot of violence.”

Raúl found himself in a similar situation and, when his parents decided that he would have to go through conversion therapy, he ran away from home. When thinking about this part of his life, Raúl looks very serious and states that he feels robbed of his youth. Once he left home, he had to learn to grow very fast and had to become independent prematurely. He explains that it took him 10 years before he was able to talk to his parents again, only once he was able to completely achieve his autonomy and independence. Raúl’s family now recognises all of him, including his sexuality. 

In the 10 years before he was able to reconnect with his family, Raúl worked in a lot of different fields and, at the same time, started to build his own safety network. At the age of 21 years old he finally encountered some organisations which brought him closer to the world of activism.

Raúl has two tattoos on his arm relating directly to his activism work and Casa Frida. He got the tattoo “I am because we are” in 2018, when he did not feel alone anymore. The second tattoo is the logo of the Refugio Casa Frida that he drew together with two other activists in 2021.

The Refugio Casa Frida was founded in 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic. It is named after a friend of Raúl. Frida was a trans woman and human rights activist who died in 2020 not only because she had cancer but also because she lived in extreme poverty. When the pandemic started, Raúl collaborated with human rights organisations to open a shelter. They already wanted to open a space for LGBTQ+ people before the pandemic, but when it started they knew that the covid crisis would affect those vulnerable groups even more than others. Raúl explains that he is sad and frustrated about Frida’s death but that it also empowered him to do more to help LGBTQ+ people especially youth, refugees and poor people to honour his friend.

The shelter welcomes LGBTQ+ refugees, sexual workers who are being exploited and HIV+ people and offers security, protection, support for mental and physical health and legal assistance. Casa Frida also works closely with the guest’s families. They primarily try to reconcile guests and their families and to debunk conservative myths around LGBTQ+ people.

Around 45% of guests of Casa Frida are LGBTQ+ refugees from South America who went to Mexico to survive but discover that their rights are not respected there either. Often the guests have to be taken to the hospital as soon as they arrive due to physical or mental health issues. Some of them even died before getting to the hospital. 

The shelter is in the Iztapalapa neighbourhood in Mexico City, an historically discriminated area because of the amount of poor people that live there. It is the only shelter with the objective of social and economic reintegration.

The shelter can host 22 people at a time and they usually stay for about three months. 80% of the guests go back to society safely afterwards. So far, Casa Frida has hosted 340 people, mostly 18-20 year olds that were kicked out of their homes by family members. Raúl explains that the youth is still financially dependent on their families that hate them and that makes them vulnerable. As a result they get into bed circles, have to live on the street and get exploited. Casa Frida only offers shelter to people older than 18 because it is illegal to shelter minors but they also provide help for people that would rather live on the streets than in the shelter.

There is a lot of ignorance among the families that reject their kids but, with a lot of effort put into the process, in some cases the guests can go back to their families. These families even at times become partners of Casa Frida. Raúl says that it is beautiful when that happens and that he is proud of seeing that the concept of Casa Frida is working.

The people working at Casa Frida are firstly professionals and then activists, Raúl emphasises. It is their job to support the guests and other LGBTQ+ people and offer solidarity. 

The biggest challenges the shelter has to face are funding and safety. It is difficult to find more safe spaces and they get no support from the Mexican government. Luckily they have a lot of international partners such as the Dutch government or companies like HP, Nike and Shake Shack. Furthermore, they get donations from individuals through the website.

Throughout the interview Raúl emphasises the need for more Casa Fridas. When he gets back to Mexico, he is going to visit Chiapas, a province in the south of Mexico, close to the border with Guatemala. He is planning on opening another Casa Frida there to further support LGBTQ+ refugees from South America.

Mexico does have some laws to protect LGBTQ+ people, but in reality these are barely enforced. The Mexican government treats LGBTQ+ people with hate, Raúl emphasises. “They are very conservative and don’t like the fact that safe spaces exist.” This hostility especially affects LGBTQ+ youth, who do not know where to go when their families turn against them. They suffer a lot of violence in school, causing them to abandon their education. Due to a lack of schooling they then struggle to find jobs.

The situation is slightly better in Mexico City. A lot of queer people move here to escape the violence of the rest of the country.This is especially common among trans women. They feel safer in the capital than they do in other areas. Yet, they risk being sexually exploited or getting involved in narco-trafficking.

Mental health issues for LGBTQ+ people are not addressed in Mexico. The suicidal rates among queer people are much higher than those of the average population. “It’s dangerous to be who we are,” Raúl shares. “The only way to survive is to become part of a community.”

My mental health wasn’t good. And neither was my personal safety. And [Shelter City] has been very helpful because now I’m much more stable and stronger so I can go back to Mexico with new energy and do many more things.

The Dutch government is a partner of Casa Frida and invited Raúl to come to the Netherlands as a part of the Shelter City program.

Shelter City is a global movement that stands side by side with human rights defenders who are at risk. They work together with cities, who offer a safe place to stay for activists so that they can take a break from their work. The goal is to offer support and re-energize human rights defenders. Shelter City celebrates its tenth anniversary as an initiative this year, it was founded in 2012 by the human rights organisation Justice & Peace. The Hague was the first Shelter City and by now they host activists in 20 additional cities in the Netherlands, as well as Georgia, Tanzania, Benin, Costa Rica, Nepal, and the United Kingdom.

Each Shelter City location works together with local organizations. The Shelter in Utrecht, where Raúl stayed, is coordinated by Peace Brigades International – Netherlands, and supported by the municipality of Utrecht.

During their stay, activists participate in a tailor made program. “Some want to attend classes at a university and for others resting and following yoga classes is the best option,” Aisha North, communications officer at Shelter City, explains. For Raúl, this meant attending classes at Utrecht University and having a chance to meet fellow human rights defenders. “I feel less alone now. I feel more stable, stronger and more energised,” he shares. He also values his new knowledge on digital security, personal security and advocacy.

“Shelter City meant finding peace for myself, making new friends and becoming part of a new community,” Raúl mentions.

Some change doesn’t hurt

Drawing the Line

Giada walks down the street outside an elementary school on a Saturday afternoon to a friend’s house. The air is filled with children’s laughter. She notices a man with a dog standing, staring, willing her to make eye contact. She speeds up a little as she passes him. She keeps her head down, avoiding eye contact; she’s done this plenty of times before.

Her heart sinks when her usual tactics fail. He opens his mouth and utters a sentence which she’ll struggle to forget. “You’re really hot,” he yells at her, “maybe you could use that lovely mouth of yours to blow me.” She freezes.

This is catcalling.

What this man said to Giada falls under the umbrella of experiences termed ‘catcalling’—words yelled at women that cross into their personal space. But is what happened to Giada the same as being whistled at from a car?

Women around the world experience this problem on a daily basis. Everyday when Cat works out, should she have to change from her gym clothes into something more modest to walk home? Should Izzy have to deal with two men breathing down her neck as she leaves the movie theatre? Should Sophie have to wonder to herself when she wears something tight if she “could have done things differently?” Should Giada have to hear what she heard from that man while walking in front of an elementary school? The answer is clearly no; but even worse, this is something now normal to her.

Across the board from Cat to Giada, each woman’s story is unique yet ubiquitous. It begins as a disruption to their daily lives, but as time goes on and each call becomes background, the unusual becomes another expectation.

Before going out, women have to prepare themselves to be catcalled. This happens so often that they have a go-to strategy. Some women cover themselves up with big jackets, while others carry pepper spray in their purse. However, most of the women we spoke to chose not to do anything at all.

“I’m more prepared for it,” Cat explained, “but I don’t change anything I’m doing because that’s ridiculous.” In doing so, Cat doesn’t allow catcallers to hold so much power over her that she has to take time out of her day to change her clothes. Giada, on the other hand, actively takes precautions to keep herself safe.

If I’m walking home, I don’t wear heels because I can’t run in heels… and I know I might have to.”

Giada Malugani

Looking at what Cat, Izzy, Giada and Sophie were wearing shows that outfit choice does not make a difference. Whether it’s gym clothing, heavy winter gear, or jeans and a sweater, catcalling occurs regardless.

This behaviour has become normalised. As Sophie pointed out, “every other girl I know has gone through it,” but it’s not until you stop to think about it that you realise it’s disgusting. This is stopping us from questioning where to draw the line between catcalling and sexual harassment.

I don’t really think about it anymore. It’s been happening since I was like 13.”

Izzy Bannenberg

Just because something is normal does not mean it is any less stressful, frightening, or problematic. What these four women go through speaks to similar narratives across the world. Under the umbrella of catcalling, things such as harassment, and possibly even worse, go by unnoticed on a day to day basis but get treated as dirt on the shoulder.

Women are forced to accept that they will be called out on the street by strangers, often regardless of what they do to prevent it. When ignoring it is no longer an option, stories like Giada’s are what end up lingering.

Giada was simply walking in a residential neighbourhood where children were nearby laughing and playing. Is her story still to be seen as something easily brushable; where do we draw the line?

Want to see our process? Check out our bloopers video!

Farming in 2019 & Beyond

In light of the recent farmer protests in the Netherlands, this story delves deeper into the person behind the protester, and challenges of farming now and in the future.

The protests

On the first of October of this year, a remarkable sight could be witnessed. Rows upon rows of tractors and other farm vehicles are making their way towards the country’s political center. Farmers from all over the Netherlands have left their barns in the early morning of October 1^st to go and protest on the Malieveld in the Hague. The city’s mayor had given permission for a maximum of 75 tractors to position themselves on the field- in the end, there turned out to be at least 2200. The first planned farmer protest was a big success, and polls tell us a majority of 73% of Dutch citizens responded to feel sympathetic towards the farmers.

However, only two weeks later, protests take a different turn: during actions at province houses across the Netherlands, the situation gets violent in Groningen. A tractor crashes itself into the monumental door of the building. Several people get hurt in an uproar between farmers and policemen. Elsewhere, fences get run over. Public sympathy decreases while farmers’ discontentment is still on the rise. A third protest takes place a few days after this, again in the Hague. Foregoing their designated protesting spot, the farmers break through the barricades to reach the Malieveld once again. Additionally, tractors are driven into the city center, occupying important crossroads and taking a tour through some of the pedestrian-only shopping streets. Whether or not their original goal, the farmers have succeeded in one thing for certain: making sure the whole country knows they’re there, and they will not go down without a bang.

Hans

Hans van Beusekom is a former dairy farmer in Driel, a tiny town in the Netherlands. He is also regional manager of the organisation for agri- and horticulture, the Landbouw en Tuinbouw Organisatie (LTO). I have met up with him on his farm to discuss these recent protests, and get a better insight of what farming is really like here in the Netherlands.

Leaving farming

The dairy farm Hans works on has been in the family for several generations. Nowadays it is just him, one employee and his elderly mother working there. Together they take care of the cows, the milking and the other odd jobs around the farm, though not for much longer. Hans tells me that by the end of the year, he will have stopped dairy farming.

His children are all in school or university, and do not have an interest in taking over the farm. It’s how it often goes nowadays, he tells me: taking over the family business, is not business as usual anymore.

Though this is one reason for him to move away from farming, there are other motivations too. Him stopping might be a symptom of a bigger issue, one that also played a role in the farmer protests.

Rules of the game

Farming in the Netherlands is thus heavily influenced by a set of regulations. To better understand these, it is good to know where they came from.

After World War II and the Hunger Winter in the Netherlands, politicians vowed for there to never be hunger again. To fulfill this, food production all over Europe grew very quickly. This eventually lead to a massive surplus of, for example, dairy products. To mitigate this, in 1984 the milk quota was established: farmers now had to pay for the rights to produce a certain amount of milk.

Due to globalization and a more global economy, it became more attractive to get rid of the milk quota again, to be able to compete better on non-European markets. Therefore, in 2015, the milk quota was officially abolished.

However, not even a year later, a new phosphate quota was brought to life, to lower the amounts of phosphate in our atmosphere, harmful to both people as well as the environment. Instead of having to pay to be allowed to milk, farmers now had to pay to be allowed to own a certain amount of cows.

One cow produces around 45 kilograms of phosphate throughout their life. At the height of the quote, farmers had to pay €275 euros per kilogram of phosphate: that’s already a whopping €12.375, just to own 1 cow.

Then there’s also the phosphate reduction, which forced all farmers to get rid of a percentage of the cows on their land.
Per square kilometer of land, farmers are allowed to produce a certain amount of phosphate. When this number was lowered, especially farmers with smaller farms were being duped, having to give up part of their livestock.

Over the years, political inference has moved its interest from milk, to phosphate, to where we are now: nitrogen. And these are not the only rules that make farming difficult.

The future

Farming has thus changed a lot over the years, with regulations constantly changing and prices dropping. Farmers now have to work much harder to earn less money than they did just 50 years ago.

Hans describes it like this: imagine you have a book of rules, that tells you how to keep a cow. When you start, the book is maybe a few pages thick. Then, maybe 10 years later, that same book now contains over a 1000 pages. That does not exactly make it attractive for new farmers to start, for children to take over from their parents, or for farmers to continue their work: more and more farmers, like Hans, consider stopping.

Nitrogen crisis or not, it is clear the future is uncertain for farmers. Whether because of the fast changing rules, the low gain against a high cost, or the issue of finding successors, it is becoming harder and harder to farm, and therefore a less attractive option for many.

What that will mean for the rest of us, time can only tell. One thing is for sure: we all need to eat… and without farmers, we can’t.

As Still as a Statue

Thirty-five thousand people walked past K.K. Badhan (64) every opening day of the Hague Market. Badhan was almost always as still as a statue, hidden behind the dense shelves, standing in contrast with the vibrant atmosphere. 

Between two highly international neighbourhoods, Schilderswijk and Transvaal, houses The Hague Market (De Haagse Markt), an outdoor market claimed one of Europe’s largest. Over 500 stalls open every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday inviting visitors in and out of The Hague, who look for a most reasonable rate, for an endless selection from any Hindustani spice to a USB-stick. In the middle of this melting pot welcoming people from all walks of life, is Badhan.  

STANDING AT A DESK 9 TO 5

On the third walkway near the center of the Haagse Market are three household appliances shops that belong to Badhan’s boss. Badhan has been taking charge of one of the three stalls for over a year now. In his shop, people can find a massive variety of household products situating among the shelves and hanging on the wall: cookware in one corner, beauty products the other, just right next to the bathroom appliances, etc. Old ladies push their trolly-bag on wheels around to find the right utensils. The little girl yanks off from her father’s hand to stop by at the sight of a doll at the very back of the shop. The stands can cater to the need of even the most selective visitors.  

Badhan stands remarkably behind his glass shelf where he places the cash box, as if he is the guardian of a citadel. His robust figure might scare off first comers, the ruby red turban and thick grey beard further overshadow his gaze.

Badhan rarely flashes a smile.

But once you get to know him, he can be one of the friendliest people in the market, who love small talks with passerby about any given topic, sandwiched among more his conversation with the customers regarding price inquiries. He talks with more liveliness than ever, from his pilgrimage to New Delhi every spring, to where to buy the cheapest items of clothing in Chinatown.

Standing from 9 to 5 is not an easy job. No chair is in sight in the condense space. The guardian of his citadel takes only one toilet break during the day when he quickly snatches something to chew along the way back. Badhan becomes evidently busier after his Pakistanian colleague quitted the job, whom he had been standing alongside for only less than a month. Badhan does not relent at the usual sight of colleagues who comes and goes. 

The busiest hours are usually from midday to 3 pm. Facing an endless flow of people queuing up to pay, the man barely stops for more than a minute. If it is not for the crowd, he then puts his entire focus constantly tracking every shelf to stock up running-out products.

In the other hours, however, he can be unimaginably calm and still. But it is not to underestimate the workload of this merchant in the busiest market in The Hague. When there is no customer in plain sight, his gaze never leaves the CCTV screen placing right in front of his glass stand. Nothing he hates more than petty thefts. He is no way quick enough to catch all the teenagers stealing small items from all corners of the large space Badhan cannot always oversee. Fortunately, the incident does not happen very often.  

His stand can be quiet, as quiet as himself. Badhan appears especially shy in stark contrast with the yelling merchants from the fish stalls or his neighbors blasting Turkish music from the amplifiers. Silent as he is, he speaks 8 languages, but all are “broken”, Badhan laughs off his unassuming achievement. Broken English and Dutch, but enough for him to express himself to the customers, with the assistance of a lot of hand gestures. 

“Everybody needs me.”, he replies as he swiftly rearranges the items misplaced by previous customers. Outside of the official operating hours of the market, including the evenings in Mon-Wed-Fri-Sat, Badhan operates his repair service. He basically handles anything people order him to, from the creaky bathroom’s door at a friend’s daughter’s house to the floor of his neighbor that needs laminating.   

WHEN THE SUN DIES DOWN

5pm. The irreconcilable contrast between the daylight scene of the market turned whoever passing by the market during its limelight shiver. Badhan’s stall and that of his boss were the latest to close down in the entire market.

Badhan finally could afford some rare minutes for small chit-chat with the other merchants. He could then put his guard down and truly smile with both his eyes. Badhan had been refusing to hold a full conversation during the busy hours. Then, he spoke with everything he could, his gaze, his hands and his whole body.

The linguistic talent indeed reflects his lifelong journey from India, to the Middle East, and now settling down in The Hague. Badhan traveled the globe after he received his Bachelor’s degree in Finance in Northern India. “Circumstances,” he again avoided a full remark. One thing was clear: the plight of corruption having taken place home drove him off, far. Seemingly, it was not that malpractice did not follow his footsteps. 

Badhan became more active than ever, he grew as red as his turban. The current shop was not where he worked when he first made an attempt to be a part of the marketlife. Before, he had applied for a clothing stall without any boss, located right around the corner of his current stall. The market’s administration process kept him waiting for months at a time and refused to give him a permit in the end. A similar process happened in his second attempt to open a children’s shoe shop. When he tried to operate as a van driver for the merchants in the market, he believed he was also bullied for the same reason. Badhan looked straight and intently into the past: “They stole my stall, then they stole my car, parts by parts.” 

Badhan looked straight and intently into the past: “They stole my stall, then they stole my car, parts by parts.”

Badhan pointed his finger at the people “who sit all day at the office”. His hand gesture was unbelievably fast as with his raising pitch. The usual calm and serene Badhan did not flinch for a second and talked non-stop, as if he has to speak for himself and for other silenced merchants who had had to withstand the injustice for years. His scattered English was enough to convey to us his belief that the market administrators were taking advantage of his insufficient Dutch language to pick up on him, and made up reasons to disqualify him from signing a stall. And he was not the only one, but all other vendors who were immigrants were maltreated coming to getting permits and with the rates of their stands, comparing to the other white Dutch stallholders. 

NURTURING THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

Badhan took in another deep, unhesitant breath. 

He is, nevertheless, happy, despite the circumstances. He secures a weatherproofing stand and has no major dissension with his boss and other merchants.  He is able to keep himself busy and feed his family, and will retire in a few years. Most importantly, he is able to satisfy his spiritual living. We are just surviving, but not living, without a nurtured spiritual life, believed Badhan. Badhan has been praying every day since the day he could speak his native Hindi and visited his temple in Amsterdam every Sunday, a very rare day when he got a break. With his wife, Badhan went back to India every year to pay a visit to their priest. 

Badhan managed to give a peaceful smile in the end. There was nothing more peaceful than observing him biking into the utmost serene darkness, to his well-prepared dinner at home with his wife, awaiting.

The Personal Cost of Life in Authoritarian Hungary

as told by a political scientist and former resident

A growing trend of authoritarianism in certain Central and Eastern European countries has been quietly stirring, with Hungary notably rubbing shoulders with Turkish president Erdogan and Russian president Putin. Though it can be easy to forget, countries, even the strongest of them, are made of people, and the personal impacts of a government’s authoritarian turn are far from trivial for the people being governed.

To understand the personal impacts that Hungary’s authoritarian turn has on its residents, I spoke to Kristin Makszin, an assistant professor of political economy at Leiden University College The Hague. 

Kristin studied for her Master’s in Hungary, and started a family there, but realized through her political research that the country was headed in a direction that she was unwilling to support. Kristin found that the government increasingly interfered with her life, first by publicly smearing George Soros, a wealthy Hungarian who helped fund the Central European University where she worked, and then by dictating which areas of research the Scientific Institute, her other place of employment, could delve into.

Post WW2, Hungary was under Soviet rule until the 1956 revolution, which lead to an increased welfare state and liberalising reforms.  After the fall of the Iron Curtain, the transition to democracy began, and talks of EU accession made Hungary a promising case for post-communist democratisation. After joining the EU, however, the country took an authoritarian turn that continues today.

Although she was eager to tell me about her research in the region, I also wanted to hear about her personal experiences there. I asked her about some lessons she learned from life in Hungary. 

Kristin had planned to settle in Hungary after marrying a Hungarian and having children there. She worked two jobs, was interested in her research and the research community, and spoke Hungarian. Although she was happy to settle in the small town outside of Budapest where her family lived, push factors kept piling up until the family decided to leave Hungary. To understand what drove that decision, I asked her why she left.

If I really want to be blunt, it was the government

The Central European University (CEU), where Kristin taught and did her PhD, was founded and funded by George Soros, a highly controversial figure in Hungarian politics. He was born in Hungary but left at 17, and went on to become a global philanthropist. Soros funded the Open Society Foundation, which supports the universal fight for freedom of expression, accountable government, and societal promotion of justice and equality. 

Soros’ organisations are often attacked by less-than-democratic governments, and when Kristin started to notice that the CEU was being threatened by the Hungarian government, it hit her hard. “That did hit me personally, because I know it from the inside. I know it’s not some liberal Trojan Horse with Soros hiding behind it. There’s really free academic research going on there” she said, and continued “when that started becoming the major point of attack, it did affect me”. 

The impact of the Hungarian government’s campaign against Soros leaked into Kristin’s professional and personal life, even affecting her children.

Kristin rejects the ideas that Hungary’s authoritarian turn was inevitable, and that a wave of populism is sweeping the world. She doesn’t buy the international contagion argument, but acknowledges that the pattern of changes in the Central and Eastern European (CEE) region must be indicative of something going on. She offers her own explanation of what sparked these changes in CEE democracy.

In contrast to her current views, Kristin was actually hopeful about Hungary’s democratic future in the early 2010’s, but soon realized that the country was on a downward trajectory away from democracy. Listen below to hear her talk about the steps Hungary took towards authoritarianism. 

Much of the public fear and anxiety brewing over Hungary’s authoritarian turn stems from concern over Russia’s influence in the region. 

The idea that EU members like Hungary could be taking notes from, or even collaborating with, authoritarian powerhouses like Russia and Turkey haunts many proponents of the EU. To hear an informed opinion on the topic, I turned to Kristin.

With clear evidence of Hungary’s authoritarian turn, the role of the EU becomes questionable. From Kristin’s perspective, the EU becomes less influential over its members as it enlarges. “I think that by trying to overreach what was feasible, that put some cracks in the EU, so I’m not super optimistic about the EU as an institution” she said. 

In the audio file below, you can hear Kristin talk about the future of the EU, considering the growing power of the authoritarian-turning member states.

Though Kristin does not believe that Hungary’s authoritarian trend spells the inevitable collapse of European democracy, she does warn that “if Hungary is the future of the EU, I’m not sure that’s an EU we want around”.

A Method to the Madness

It’s Wednesday evening, and you’ve just left work to pick up a few groceries for tonight and the coming days. You don’t have a list, just an idea of what you want to feed yourself or your family and the basic nutrition you should be getting. You walk into your local Albert Heijn and join the seemingly chaotic mass of nightly shoppers. You may think your shopping patterns are practically random, but contrary to popular belief, there is a method to the madness.

The food industry devotes countless hours and resources to manufacturing the ideal supermarket structure to maximize shoppers’ purchases. This is the side of shopping that consumers rarely think of, and the one that grocery store employees focus on. 

One of these employees who operates in the unnoticed realm of strategic shopping is Anton Pluis, a 21 year-old team leader at Albert Heijn who is pictured here. He tells me about the different strategies Albert Heijn uses to guide shoppers’ product choices.

“The positioning of products is really important and a lot of money goes to that”, Anton reveals, “Brands can pay for placements, for example Coca-Cola pays a lot of money to be placed between the frozen foods like pizza and bitterballen, stuff for a party. They pay quite a lot of money for that space because it does increase sales.”

While it may seem trivial to shoppers, product positioning in stores is significant to companies like Coca-Cola.

Of course, there is more to the story of supermarket food choices than simple store strategies. Nutrition is essential for a healthy life, and since stores can guide shoppers’ choices, I wanted to hear about how shoppers’ food choices affect their nutrition and health.

The photo series below showcases some quotes shoppers gave me about their food choices along with pictures taken inside Albert Heijn.

Enlarge

Changing the Face of the Schilderswijk

In July 2015, the Aruban Mitch Henriquez died a day after being arrested at the Zuiderpark in the Hague. Because he claimed to be carrying a gun, police officers held him in a prolonged choke hold, used pepper spray and hit him in the face. The initial pathologist’s report showed that Henriquez had died as a result of the choke hold.

This death enraged many inhabitants from the Schilderswijk in the Hague, a neighborhood with a history of tension between the police and its large ethnic minority population. In the days following Mitch Henriquez’s death, riots broke out in the Schilderswijk with protesters attempting to storm the police station.

Ever since 1893, when Journalist Johan Gram wrote about the poor living circumstances in the Schilderswijk, the neighborhood has been known as the most famous problem area of the Netherlands. Gram described the houses in this neighborhood as ‘thin and draughty cubes of carton’ where no one with the will to live should want to reside.

Throughout the 20th century, the neighborhood was known as a working-class district. However, from the 70’s onwards, immigrants started moving into the Schilderswijk which caused it to become a highly multi-cultural neighborhood. Currently, 9 out of 10 inhabitants have a migration background. The Schilderswijk retains its image of a working-class neighborhood, as in 2014it was the poorest neighborhood of the Netherlands.

The riots surrounding the affair of Mitch Henriquez symbolize the existing tension between the police and the inhabitants of the Schilderswijk. Corina Duijndam’s research into the attitudes of youngsters from the Schilderswijk towards the police showed that a significant part of the youth views the acts of the police as racist.

However, this does not necessarily mean that the police from the Hague is guilty of discriminatory practices. Since Professor Joanna van der Leun from Leiden University concluded in 2014 that the Hague police could not be accused of ethnic profiling.

A voice of change

However, there are many inhabitants from the Schilderswijk that actively try to move away from the tension of 2015 surrounding the affair of Mitch Henriquez. With his business called NextProjecten, Mohamed El Khadir (42) tries to bridge the gap between the authorities in the Hague and the youth from the Schilderswijk who do not always feel understood according to Mohamed, “whether that is justified or not”. After being born in Marocco, Mohamed moved to the Schilderswijk at age 6 and has lived there ever since. With NextProjecten, Mohamed coaches and empowers youth from the Schilderswijk so that they develop their talents and become more resilient.

For Mohamed, the riots surrounding Mitch Henriquez’s death felt like a step back from what he had been trying to teach the youngsters through NextProjecten. “Every night I was trying to talk sense into the youngsters that were involved in the riots. I felt like I had to start all over again, after years of coaching them. I was telling them to go home”, Mohamed says.

After the riots, Mohamed created a project to improve the relations between the youth, the police and the municipality.

If youngsters feel like they have become a victim of ethnic profiling, Next Projecten helps them to file a complaint against the police officer or to find a lawyer. As Mohamed has come to recognize that without any formal complaints, no concrete measures can be taken by the police.

Mohamed tries to teach the youngsters that “they should not only consume, but they should rather be actively involved so that they can take ownership of what happens in their neighborhood”.

However, the youngsters that Mohamed works with are not only affected by their perception of ethnic profiling in the Schilderswijk but can also feel hurt by seemingly racist comments of Dutch politicians.

A recent example of such a statement about Islam from a Dutch politician can be taken from a promotional video of the Dutch national party the PVV. In this promotional video from 2018, Islam is associated with violence, anti-semitism, terror and misogyny.

“If politicians state that they have something against your ethnicity, you can either stay within your community or you can speak up. You can put your fist on the table and say that you are from the Hague, just like them; that you are also a Dutch citizen.” By encouraging youngsters to do the latter, Mohamed further bridges the gap between the youth from his neighborhood and the authorities.

An example of a youngster who has taken Mohamed’s advice to heart is a young man nicknamed ‘the director’. Like other youngsters that are coached by Next Projecten, he was a bit timid at first. Now he actually leads the talks of Next Projecten with the municipality. “I can just sit back and watch”, Mohamed says proudly. ‘The director’ currently is an active volunteer for Next Projecten next to his full-time job.

The face behind the work

When Mohamed went to youth centers when he was younger, he already felt like the type of empowerment he witnessed with ‘the director’ was integral to youth work. “All we did was play games all day, which was fun. However, I did feel like something was missing. I wanted to develop myself further.” So Mohamed took measures into his own hands, started coaching youth and eventually turned it into a business.

When Mohamed was 17, he was about to get kicked out of school. “I remember the principal saying that he was sure we would make it in life, all of us, just not if we would continue down this path.” This advice became a turning point in Mohamed’s life, after which he started to change his bad behavior. He is glad to now be able to pass on the same message to youngsters from the Schilderswijk.

Now that Mohamed has incorporated personal development into youth work in the Schilderswijk, he is often thanked by the youngsters.

However, Mohamed does not want to take all the credit. “It is a collective endeavor”, he says.

Shadows of the past

Nonethelesss, engaging in dialogue with the police is not always as easy as it seems according to Dean Arma (28), a student who works for NextProjecten. Next to studying social work at the Hague University of Applied Sciences, Dean also performs as a spoken-word artist.

Dean finds it difficult to have a positive attitude towards the police, due to his personal experiences. He admits that he has been involved with drugs and weapons in the past and that he has therefore often been in contact with the police. Based on these experiences, Dean feels hesitant about the effectiveness of dialogue with the police of the Hague.

The other side of the story

Mohammed el Arrag, a superintendent of the police in the center district of the Hague, specialized in culture and connection, holds a different view than Dean Arma. According to Mohammed, the police of the Hague actively tries to move forward and seeks to learn from past mistakes.  

An important way through which the police now tries to improve the relationship between the police and the inhabitants of the Schilderswijk is through a project called the ‘Culturele Wasstraat’. Before police officers start working in the neighborhood, they receive a 2-month long training that introduces them to the diversity of the Schilderswijk. During this time, police officers talk to key figures in the neighborhood, visit locations such as prayer rooms, schools and shisha lounges and receive workshops about the different cultures that exist within the Schilderswijk. Mohammed describes this period as being an ‘integration phase’ for the police officers.

This is especially important because the Schilderswijk poses several specific challenges for police officers according to Mohammed. As the police needs to understand the many different cultural groups of the neighborhood, who may have different views of the police due to the situation in their country of origin. In addition, because of the neighborhood’s multi-cultural character, international affairs have an impact on the Schilderswijk.

Furthermore, according to Mohammed, the riots surrounding the affair of Mitch Henriquez did not only show dissatisfaction with the police but they were also an example of cooperation between the police and inhabitants of the Schilderswijk. As worried inhabitants wearing yellow vests were actively involved with trying to calm the protesters to prevent the situation from escalating further. However, Mohammed explains that this is only the tip of the iceberg, as there are many more initiatives in the Schilderswijk led by inhabitants who love their neighborhood.

Mohammed thus feels proud of the efforts of the police to engage with inhabitants of the Schilderswijk.

Just like Mohammed el Arrag of the police, Mohamed el Khadir of NextProjecten is positive about the future. Mohamed el Khadir lives and breathes positivity and resilience, exactly what he is trying to teach youngsters. When asked, he can’t think of an instance when he felt helpless or powerless. He names his faith in Islam as being a key factor in his outlook on life.

“In the end, you can accomplish more if you work together”, Mohamed says.

Sun: bringing joy to the city of The Hague

Walking down the streets of The Hague, you have probably heard Sun playing in the streets before. You will hear him before you see him since his voice fills up the whole street. Although he stands with just his guitar and sings mostly old songs from the 1960s and 70s, he lights up the mood of everybody around, like his name promises. Getting to know him, he reveals that he has gone through struggles before becoming a street musician, but has found solace in it.

Sun is a street musician from The Hague, claiming to be the „oldest and longest playing”. Before playing on the streets he was a music teacher, owned a music store, and even worked as a musical therapist. A hard time in his life made him dramatically change everything, and switch to playing on the streets as a street performer. Although he liked his prior job he was “fed up standing in the service of other people”; he wanted to live his life completely for himself.

“I reached the point that I couldn’t do it anymore, it became too much for me“

Adapting to his new life was not easy. He had lost everything including his income, insurance, and house to name a few. Going from having a lot of certainties in his life to none at all was a challenge. At first, he wasn’t always welcome, he was robbed and had confrontations with others. After being robbed and not getting defeated by it, but working on it, the message spread on the street: “You better not rob that stupid motherfucking Chinese guy because he will come after you. And that is the truth: I will come after you”. Looking back at his journey he feels acomplished, like he succeeded in making his own life for himself.

Getting help from the organization Kessler stichting and paying off debt helped him feel like a member of society again and not like he was “stranded somewhere on the line of life”. Reiki, a form of meditation and (as he explains it) healing yourself and others by “harnessing the powers of the universe”, has helped him a lot in that time.

Playing music in the streets is not always nice. When talking to Sun he speaks of the injustice in the city. He is running three lawsuits at the moment. At our meeting he hands me a stack of papers, stapled together and in a clear case, but heavy and noticeably gone through over and over again. There are certain laws for public places that for example forbid playing with an amplifier in certain areas, but Sun felt treated unequal by the police sometimes. When he was getting started he was more rebellious, getting fined by the police, but standing his ground and knowing his rights, but nonetheless feeling like other musicians got favoured over him.

He is aware that going to court won’t change what already happened, but he is searching for a permanent solution. Despite the confrontations with the police he also feels respected by them. He says he earned the respect because he just kept going, showing up and giving the best he could. The policemen can relate that it is hard to be on the street in all weather conditions and with the crime that is happening. He earned respect by not acting up when he was confronted with racism and staying “good for himself” and being a gentleman and a person who tries to create love for other people. He has made himself known by playing with good quality and performance. Not only on the streets, but also at weddings, parties, and even funerals, which he says is the biggest honour. Most people fear playing in front of a big audience, but he says he loves it, it makes him feel good, wanted, successful, and happy that people can feel his music. Playing music for a living is hard, but Reiki again helps him with relaxing afterwards.

Reiki always came up again in the conversation I had with Sun. His dream job would be a combination of Reiki and music and he sees being a Reiki master as an “old age insurance” when he can physically not play on the streets anymore. Reiki was with him before he became a street musician and he is certain that his Reiki and personality has saved him from getting angry at the police. Reiki not only calms him in confrontations, but in the vision of Reiki everybody is connected, which is why when he stands on the streets alone he feels like everybody is his friends.

It happens that those “friends” also pay him. He says the thing is to have joy from your music and be happy with your music. Earning enough money is not something he worries about because he knows the audience will see how happy he is. He is convinced that “if you meet somebody on the streets and you just feel what they want you to feel, you will grab your wallet”.

The next time you are in The Hague and the voice of Sun reaches you, just tell him that you are happy because you have heard his music and you will make his day.

Angry women.

When was the last time you were angry … and you showed it?

Most likely, women need to think a bit harder about that one than men. Although both men and women get angry about as much as the other, women tend to bottle it up a lot more than men do. That is because we are taught differently about emotions when growing up. “Boys learn to disguise their hurt and vulnerability as anger — girls, all too often, learn the opposite,” says Laurie Penny, a feminist journalist and activist from the UK.

Kids grow up learning that showing certain emotions is not ‘manly’ or ‘feminine’ enough. Emotions are gendered and we can see that when little boys for example are castigated for crying. They are told to ‘man up’ which usually means to show no weakness. In a New York Times article, the journalist Andrew Reiner describes a video that was shown in his course on masculinity. The video shows a young baby boy getting his first vaccination and while he is crying, his dad tells him to say ‘I’m a man’. ‘Don’t cry’ he says to him. Because weakness is reserved for girls. When girls on the other hand show that they are dissatisfied with something, adults either do not take them seriously or tell them to calm down, to be more quiet.

What this essentially means is to be less visible, to take up less space. While men learn to always be tough and strong and loud, women grow up to learn how to ask for help, how to be dependent and how to cry. Ilse, a 49 years old flight attendant, says that she thinks that this is just how it is and always has been. However, studies show that parents comfort their girls more when they are crying whereas they show less understanding for their little boys when they are sad. Boys on the other hand are allowed and even encouraged to be wild, to be over the line even. “Boys will be boys” is a phrase everyone probably has encountered at some point in their lives and has led to playing down sexual violence for example. Peter, a 70 year old dutch man, says that men did not emancipate and because of that they are less expressive and think less about the consequences of their actions than women.

But even if parents want boys to be more expressive, they are talking to them differently than to girls, says Harriet Tenenbaum, a developmental psychologist at the University of Surrey, England. She says that parents talk to their girls more about emotions with a wider range of words whereas with boys, they most often only talk about anger and negative feelings, if at all.

It is a cycle really when anger is associated with men. Anger is tightly linked with power, whereas sadness, the negative emotion usually expected of women when expressing unhappiness with a situation, is seen as dismissive. When men are asserting that power and showing their anger, they are seen as stronger and in charge. We can observe this in the professional world when looking at the gender gap in education and high-ranking jobs. Although boys score lower in high school and college, they make up significantly more percent of high-ranking jobs later in life. But while this system in the end works out for a lot of men, women have learned to comply to it, to work with it and to function in it. Both of these situations are problems one could get mad about.

We have a right to be angry, no matter what gender we identify with.

But yet another study shows that even if women were to show anger our angry faces might not be recognised as such. Multiple experiments have revealed that “an angry woman’s face is one of the most difficult for people to parse” whereas an androgynous face looking angry was read as a man’s face by most of the participants of the studies, writes Soraya Chemaly, author of Rage Becomes Her, a book that looks at the intersection of anger and gender in depth. 

It is no wonder though that we are not trained in recognising an angry woman’s face. Up until recently, there was barely any footage of women being angry in movies. Lorraine Ali writes in the LA Times that “For years, television shied away from any depiction of female anger that wasn’t victim’s rage or simple hysteria.” Women in movies and tv-shows were simply not portrayed as being angry and justifiably so. We influence culture and culture influences us and when we are not used to seeing what angry women look like, we will likely not recognise it when they actually are.

It is important that we start taking a good look at angry women when we get a chance to. To look anger in the face. We have a right to be angry, no matter what gender we identify with. For anger is not only a normal emotion part of human life but also can contribute to a happier life.

This is what angry women look like.

It is scientifically proven that people living out a wider range of emotions are happier. This range is called ‘emotional diversity’ or ‘emodiversity’ and has emerged in recent scientific circles in order to investigate and understand the role of emotions on our health.

Emodiversity is a theory that compares the body to an ecosystem. It draws inspiration from biodiversity and its benefits and detects that though there are differences regarding certain markers of humans, overall we stay balanced the more emotions we feel in a day – just like in an ecosystem where every species has its own role and together they create for a more balanced system, says Jordi Quoidback, a psychology professor at Pompeu Fabra University in Barcelona who was the lead author of the study with more than 37,000 participants from all ranges of backgrounds.

However, it has not yet been investigated what causes what, merely that there exists a correlation. Future investigations, Quoidbach et al. in their article note, have to look at the long-term effects of living out a wide range of emotions. What they are sure of though is that emodiversity causes for better mental and physical health. In these studies, it did not matter whether the felt emotions are positive, negative or both.

Anger is a feeling. Hatred is an action.

Laurie Penny

Oftentimes, anger is related to violence and violent actions. When I ask Flora, a 21 years old German student, whether she thinks anger should be expressed she immediately links anger to knocking over trash cans and boxing against walls. She says she tries to distract herself from her anger which resonated with what Ilse expressed as well, doing meditation or other activities that let her forget her anger. In their opinion, anger is not a useful emotion.

This binary system deeming negative emotions like sadness, fear or anger as inherently ‘bad’ and positive emotions like joy or gratitude as inherently ‘good’ is “overdue for retirement,” writes Jane Gruber, Assistant Professor of Psychology at the University of Colorado. She writes that “negative emotions” are essential in our mental health and gives three different examples of why that is. Looking at it from an evolutionary perspective, she states that “negative emotions” help us recognise dangerous situations ranging from an accident to an unhealthy relationship. Second, she writes that “negative emotions” help sharpen our focus by facilitating critical thinking and memory.  The third example of good impacts of so-called “negative emotions” is that the suppression of them does not make us happier. On the contrary, it leads to more distress and can result in substance abuse or overeating for example. Moreover, the suppression does not make the anger dissolve.

Anger can be useful. It can keep you moving and working when you want to give up.

Laurie Penny

Lior, one of the girls that are part of the photography project, uses her anger to create spoken word poetry. In one poem where she describes why she identifies as a feminist, she writes

Because I have had to learn
In excruciating ways
that we were handed different tools
must obey different rules
that boys will be boys
that you were given a choice
while we are constantly deprived of ours

Gruber also gives examples of “positive emotions” not causing greater happiness but the contrary. She writes that only feeling “positive emotions” and trying to maximise them constantly can lead to more self-focused behaviour which can relate to greater stereotyping of out-group members for example. Moreover, she writes that studies show that “positive emotions” can be associated with greater risk-taking behaviour and higher mortality rates. With this, she gives room to reconsider the duality of emotions existing these days and writes that “there is no intrinsic goodness or badness of an emotion”. Instead, we might try feeling all the emotions and letting them exist by for example voicing them. 

One way to voice that specific emotion is swearing. Profanity is an emotional language and tightly linked to anger. We swear when bumping a toe on the table leg or missing a train. But while usually dismissed and enjoying a bad reputation, a study recently found that swearing might in fact make you stronger. Richard Stephens, a psychologist at Keele University, UK, showed that participants swearing while holding their hand in an ice bucket could hold out longer. He thinks swearing might be a means of pain management and even empowerment. And even though swearing is tightly linked with anger, there have yet to be found significant differences between genders when swearing. 

This might be a good way to start accepting our emotions and giving them space instead of pushing them down. And even though swearing has a bad reputation among some, it liberates your feelings, especially anger and frustration. Did you ever feel released when swearing after something annoying or bad happened? That liberating feeling of release is what lets your heart rate stay sane.

Ride Like Hell

In the 2012 movie Premium Rush a bike delivery driver races through the noisy streets of New York. The movie poster advertised the action-packed story that includes corrupt police and human traffickers with the slogan Ride Like Hell. Walking through a big city today, one can find something similar: Food delivery drivers working for one of the large food delivery companies such as Deliveroo and Uber Eats.

These riders are obviously not criminals like Ride like Hell’s protagonist. But as The Times reported in 2016, the slogan Ride Like Hell may just be as fitting. Back then, UK Deliveroo riders received criticism for having dangerous driving styles and unsafe bikes. But why are they all in a hurry? And why are they allowed to work with unsafe equipment?

A Changing Business Model

When it was founded six years ago, Deliveroo established itself as a student-friendly employer. They offer flexible work hours that can ideally be determined by the riders themselves. The first few years, riders received hourly wages, and extras for completed deliveries.

More recently, Deliveroo riders have a down on their employer. But ‘employer’ might not even be the proper term. Deliveroo gradually cuts contract workers and instead employs freelancers. In the Netherlands this began in 2017.  The new system forces riders to buy and manage their own equipment, to pay insurance for themselves, and to manage their paperwork. Furthermore, riders are having a harder time to collectively voice complaints or fight for better wages.

This year, a Dutch court ruled that Deliveroo’s ‘freelancers’ are to be considered employees. Deliveroo wants to appeal against the ruling, so as of now, the freelancer system is still intact. Riders have to pay for all their work-related expenses, get paid per completed delivery, and are in competition with other riders.

This competition comes from the fact that riders with a good work statistic are more likely to receive the working shifts they choose. This incentivizes riders to do as many deliveries in as little time as possible. Ride Like Hell comes back to mind.

Problems in Practice

The stress put on riders through the freelancer system is visible. Last year, the AD reported on a snackbar in The Hague that stopped working with Deliveroo. The restaurant complained that the riders were rude to workers and customers as they were only thinking in terms of “time is money”. Riders had repeatedly quit the restaurant when finding out that they had to wait a few minutes for an order to be completed. It was left to the snackbar to find a replacement for the riders, and to get the food to the customer.

The riders’ behaviour makes sense given the pay-per-delivery system. In their efforts to make as many deliveries as possible, riders strategically adapt their behaviour. This is most visible in city centres, or areas with many restaurants. Riders gather here as they are most likely to receive new deliveries, being closer to the restaurants.

The changed behaviour of riders has created ‘grey areas’: zones where few restaurants are, and where for that reason few riders go. The above mentioned snackbar is among the disadvantaged, being located in one such area. This and the issues with riders were reasons enough for the owner to quit the service altogether. Nowadays they work with a dutch contractor who does their food deliveries.

The Invisible Illness…

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS)

Understood through a sufferer and her mother.

For the purpose of privacy, the interviewees wish to keep anonymous and therefore their names have been changed.

Being an active hockey player, book lover and a dedicated student, Freya’s life completely changed when she became bed-ridden. She knew something was not quite right when the headache intensified and the tiredness took over her every day life.

Freya is now 22 years old, committed to studying at university and back on track to a ‘normal life’ despite the struggles experienced for numerous years. Her experiences with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome still continue to this day, yet the symptoms have subdued and she’s no longer bed-ridden. Some of the most prominent symptoms she continues to face are extreme tiredness, vulnerability to viruses, dizziness and migraines. Every day is different, some days she can’t get out of bed, other days she can. Due to this, she also has a reduced course load at university.

Freya was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome in 2009. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (also referred to as Myalgic Encephalomyelitis) is an illness characterized by a wide range of symptoms. These can include muscle and joint pain, sleep abnormalities, increased vulnerability to the flu and viruses, severe headaches, cognitive dysfunction through brain fogs and impact on short-term memory. The most commonly felt symptom is the extreme fatigue; experienced not only post-exercise, but on a daily basis. The symptoms can range from mild to an extreme-bed-ridden state or worst case scenario, death. F

The severity of the illness varies per person and has the ability to change over time. Some may have the illness for less than a year, whereas others for a lifetime. There is no cure, the cause of the illness remains unknown and limited research is being conducted due to a lack of awareness and funding.

According to Fred Friedberg the president of the Chronic Fatigue Syndrome / Myalgic Encephalomyelitis International Association, Chronic Fatigue impacts millions of people around the world.

Yet, often people have never heard of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome before. This means that sufferers often feel like their illness is invisible to outsiders.

What does the daily life of a sufferer look like?

Line of pills.

To combat a range of symptoms, different supplements including vitamins and/or medicine become normal to take on a daily basis.

Light sensitivity.

Exposure to light, which could be as simple as opening the curtain to sunlight, can create or intensify headaches. This means that often rooms need to be kept dark.

Breakfast and supplements served in bed on a tray.

A Chronic Fatigue sufferer may be incapable of participating in daily activities such as sitting at the table to have meals.

Brain Fog.

Cognitive dysfunction can play itself out in the form of a ‘brain fog’. This is a period of time where thoughts go cloudy or memory is altered altogether. This can be especially difficult for students.

Sitting in a shower to avoid fainting.

Standing for prolonged periods of time can cause for light headedness and cause the sufferer to faint. Excessive periods of time spent in bed also causes for muscle weakness, making standing difficult at times.

Freya explains:

How does it impact Freya?

Social:

Freya was lucky enough to have a group of friends who supported her, but it came with difficulties.

“Friends can think, you don’t want to hang out with me? No, its just that my body can’t handle this”

Family dynamics:

Freya’s parents were enormously supportive and made compromises to ensure the best circumstances for their daughter. Her father kept working whilst her mother became a full time carer.

“My mum couldn’t work and had the pressure to find out what was really going on.”

“My dad, he’s a real ‘take care of my family kind of guy’, so it was hard on him not to be able to do anything”

A Mother’s Perspective

Nicole explains how the impact of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome spills over to the rest of the family in a variety of ways. Nicole was unable to pursue work as she became a full-time carer for Freya, meanwhile her husband had to keep working.

When Freya was bedridden, unable to eat or drink and could barely talk, they had a period of around ten months where they barely saw anybody. Nicole explained that “people around you don’t understand what’s going on… they just stay away.” This took a toll on Nicole’s social life and ability to do simple things with friends, such as grab a coffee. Nicole explained that “trying to organise a babysitter for a seventeen-year-old [wasn’t] exactly the easiest thing to do.” 

If she were to be with friends, she would often place her phone on the table to be on call 24/7, just in case something were to spontaneously happen. Nicole mentioned that one friend would sometimes just come by with a home cooked meal and would just sit and listen, she said this helped a lot.

 “People around you don’t understand what’s going on …

…they tend to just stay away”

At first, doctors told her that she may have post-viral fatigue, explaining “it’s like a cold, it will go away again”. Freya’s diagnosis came after six months of constant tiredness including a range of other things too, such as headache, a cold, flu-like symptoms and muscle and joint pain all over. However, symptoms continued to escalate, the headache never left and the fatigue became more extreme. Nicole began to realize the enormity of the problem once the doctor officially diagnosed Freya with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

Her family doctor didn’t know how to treat her, so he sent her to a family paediatrician. The paediatrician looked at her lymph nodes, her thyroids and her blood levels, but didn’t know where to go further from there. Nicole explains that it was like witnessing someone end up in a “waste basket of cases, where you only end up in if the doctors don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

“[CFS is like a] waste basket of cases,

… where you only end up in if the doctors don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

The second paediatrician was specialized in Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, well known and located in one of the biggest hospitals of the state.  Whilst he was specialized in Chronic Fatigue, he took a simple approach to treating it through medication. A new type of medication was prescribed for every new symptom that would arise . This led to multiple different types of medications, leading to new side effects and little results. He concluded that it must’ve just been in her head as there was no other answer.

Is it psychological?

Nicole explains that a lot of the doctors simply told Freya it was depression, but seeing all the other symptoms, she just knew it went further than a mental illness. She explained that Freya was always willing to get out of her situation and whilst she did experience mental difficulties, it was simply unjust to label her situation as one it was not.

Nicole explains that one of the biggest misconceptions is that Chronic Fatigue sufferers are claimed to “put themselves in that position”. In a process of searching for answers, this was both dismissive and extremely damaging to not only the sufferer but the family as well.

Nicole was told by the paediatrician at some point that it was her own fault as a mother. With tears in her eyes, Nicole explained how painful it is to feel like you’re the culprit of your daughters illness. Not being able to give your daughter the answers she was after, was immensely difficult on the both of them.

This required Nicole to begin her own research, to look into alternative treatment and to dig deeper into the cause of the illness. Freya’s symptoms came directly after a HPV immunisation. However, considering the controversy surrounding vaccine side effects, doctors were hesitant to look into that as a reason.

Freya is not alone in her experiences of not being taken seriously. Chronic Fatigue patients often report not receiving the adequate treatment once they are diagnosed. A recent study conducted in the Georgetown University Medical Center, looked into the perceptions of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome in the Emergency Department, finding that two thirds of respondents reported that they wouldn’t go to an Emergency Department due to previous bad experiences or believing they wouldn’t be taken seriously. A high proportion of the 282 participants who took part in research conducted on Chronic Fatigue reported that they would often be told “its all in your head.”

Confirmed by Scientists and Medical Professionals

Whilst still limited, there has been more research conducted on the physical symptoms of the illness since Freya’s diagnosis. To name a few, according to the ME/CFS Research Summary by​ ​Jamie​ ​Seltzer, errors in cellular production, slowed metabolism, gut bacteria, changes in brain matter and a different gene function post-exercise have all been scientifically proven to be a result of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The search for a bacteria or virus that cause the illness has been unsuccessful. There are many theories, yet the direct causal link remains unknown.

How can you help?

Nicole particularly emphasizes the importance of bystanders in helping someone deal with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Spending all day in bed often gets lonely, therefore a sufferer often feels socially isolated. She stresses that it’s important for people to avoid judging and to “read about it and ask questions, just ask the person”.

When Freya was at school, kids would often tell her that they would be tired as well when they woke up in the morning, or they would question why she could sometimes show up at a party for less than an hour and not at school that day. The most important part of is to keep inviting someone to parties or social gatherings, this helps them feel less alone.

It’s extremely helpful to be open minded when they can’t make it or when they tell you today’s a bad day. The thought that they are not alone already closes a large gap between non-sufferers and sufferers.

“It’s extremely helpful to be open minded when they can’t make it or when they tell you today’s a bad day.”

For more information:

• http://www.meaction.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/ME2FCFS-RESEARCH-SUMMARY-Jamie-Seltzer.pdf
• https://www.unrest.film/
• https://emerge.org.au/
• https://solvecfs.org/
• https://www.cdc.gov/me-cfs/index.html