March 2009 'First Quarterly'

Ostriches, the Human League and good times for Oostkapelle

Murphy’s Law (anything that can go wrong will go wrong) made me its victim on 10 February. I left 40 euros behind in the cash dispenser on the campus and a carton of cream burst in my bag, ruining a map of Tilburg, turning my diary into a sticky mess and dripping all over my coat. To cap it all, I sustained a flat tyre and got soaked in the rain.
When misfortune strikes, I tend to be fairly resilient. After something bad happens, I make something good happen, in the spirit of cognitive behavioural therapy. I cooked a delicious ostrich steak with herb tagliatelle and served it with caramelised chicory (witlof) and mustard sauce. I wouldn’t be beaten by Murphy!
I won’t be beaten by the credit crunch either! I will eat exotic and expensive food. I will enjoy the finer things in life! I know this sounds overdone. I have always felt this way and I am probably just rationalising my own self-indulgence and making excuses for my unhealthy obsession with food.
Despite being good for you and versatile, ostrich is not credit crunch food in the sense that eggs are (cheap and in abundant supply). In two different ways it is apt. First, as we’ve seen, eating it when money is tight is a moderate statement of defiance. Second, it’s comfort food; it makes you feel better, it consoles you, though in my case, the consolation was more local, aimed at rescuing a disastrous Wednesday evening.
I got to wondering how the credit crisis is being experienced in the Netherlands. There is the obvious stuff: unemployment is on the rise, banks and financial institutions are feeling the pinch, the construction industry is suffering, and retailers face tough times. Blah blah blah. I’m still not sure how far this has affected daily life but across the water in my home country, things seem clearer. The credit crisis is hitting harder, the obvious example being the plummeting pound. My sister in law remarked at the weekend that the British can’t afford to go abroad on holiday at the moment. It was a rather sweeping statement, typical of conversation at a party when the drinks are flowing. “Your recession is worse than ours!” she seemed to be saying to me. She may well have been right, but it wouldn’t surprise me if bookings on the Dutch coast are up this year, as people here opt for a cheaper holiday too.
So some sectors, like tourism in the home country, can profit from a credit crisis. Whilst I wish the ostrich farmers well, I doubt that purveyors of exotic foods in this country will be able to take advantage of the crisis. I think that the pleasures of the stomach will be amongst the first things to be sacrificed, if times get really tough. The Dutch still eat to live, by and large, rather than the other way round. Perhaps discount supermarkets will see their profits soar.
Although this is wishful thinking on my part, I think that the arts and culture industry will try to make the most of these belt-tightening months (or years), as people seek escapism through films, theatre, music and exhibitions. It’s a simple formula and it’s nothing new. Adversity results in creativity. Previous recessions have thrown up extraordinary, vibrant culture. The Great Depression in the United States was a time of tremendous innovation in the arts, in all areas, from art and design through literature, music, even architecture. There were the big bands, the novels of Hemingway and Steinbeck, and the buildings of Frank Lloyd Wright, to name just a few. As the recession hit hard in Britain in the early eighties, popular culture responded with vigour. Alan Bleasdale’s TV drama “The Boys from the Blackstuff” offered a scathing critique of the poverty and unemployment of Thatcherite Britain. Pop music was rich and fertile. Bands like The Human League captured the mood of the era in songs like “Hard Times” but also provided glamour and escapism. The early eighties mood was a strange mix of bitterness and joy.
My own financial crisis is a drop in the ocean. Assuming that the forty euros was seen and pocketed by someone (good luck to them, finders keepers!), it won’t reduce me to poverty. At most, I regard it as mildly irritating. After the ostrich therapy, I did two other things which I felt were appropriate: I planned some recipes involving lentils, rice and cheap vegetables and I wrote some poems.