Once a year I work at IDFA, the world's largest documentary festival held annually in Amsterdam.
On the first day of the most recent IDFA edition I work with a Finnish colleague who speaks Dutch very well. She explains that she has a Dutch husband and has taken several courses to pass her integration exam. But like most non-natives, she regrets not speaking the language enough.
‘En nu ga ik naar thuis’ (And now I go to home), she says at the end of her shift as she puts on her coat.
‘Naar huis’ (home), I correct her before I realize it. ‘Ik ben thuis; ik ga naar huis’, I even add, startling myself.
Once a teacher, always a teacher.
Apparently.
I apologize for my inappropriate remark, but she responds delighted.
‘Niemand corrigeert mij en so blijf ik dezelfde fouten maken.’ (No one corrects me and so I keep making the same mistakes)
Shall I?
Dare I?
Again?
After my earlier “surprise attack”, I let it rest, that most common mistake amongst NT2 speakers of any level from any country in the world: the English multipurpose word “so”.
Two persistent letters, which are the hardest to banish from your new language.
Virtually all my students fall into the “so” trap over and over again.
The most common misuse? Starting a sentence with “so...” as a way to give yourself a few extra seconds to group your words.
In Dutch we have a word that is used in similar ways as “so” - as described above, or in the sense of “therefore”.
In a popular TV comedy from the noughties, Zaai, the protagonists use it every other word.
I am talkin’ about “dus”.
Currently there’s a joke among Gen Z-ers that whenever a conversation falters, someone will remark: ‘Dus… hobby’s?’ (So… got any hobbies?)
So the word my Finnish colleague should have used was “dus”. (therefore)
Next class I beg my students once again: ‘If you memorize one word in this course, let it be “dus”. You will sound so Dutch.’
‘O ja: dus!’
They know, but it’s stronger than them.
”Naar thuis”, which triggered my aforementioned correction attack, could well be the second most common mistake made by NT2 speakers of any level from any part of the world, my students not excepted.
And that’s how “So... naar thuis!” becomes the ultimate running gag in my class.
Sure, I am Always Talkin’ Food, but I teach NT2 (Dutch as a second language) on the side. Mainly to young internationals who came to Amsterdam for or with love and intend to stay. For privacy reasons the names in these columns are fictitious.
Food lingo
Het zoutje - crispy, savory, deep-fried or baked bite-sized snack served cold
Het borrelnootje - peanut covered in a savory crunchy layer
De zoute stengel - ultra-thin bite-sized pretzel stalk
De zoute krakeling - pretzel
Het zeezout - sea salt
De borrel - drinks (either at home, at the office or in het café)
Voor thuis
Not only am I a big fan of friet, I also love a good zoutje, as the Dutch call in one single comprehensive word a crispy, savory, deep-fried or baked bite-sized snack served cold as an accompaniment to borrels at home or at the office. Think: chips, saltines, borrelnootjes and Japanese rice crackers. My favorite zoutje du jour is a baked squeezed pretzel covered in sea salt. You might think this one differs only in shape from the seventies classic, de zoute stengel, or for that matter, from the classic pretzel which we call zoute krakeling. But think twice. Shape does influence taste. This has been irrefutably proven by my second favorite zoutje du jour, mini-friet (Yes! Chips in the shape of mini-sized frietjes!), which has a completely different taste sensation than regular chips, even though made with the exact same basic ingredients. It’s mini-magic voor thuis.
Elephant baked squeezed pretzels; for sale at selected Albert Heijn, Dekamarkt, Vomar and other supermarket stores.