Ekaterina Netchitailova

It was at the end of the summer 2000 that I moved from Brussels to Amsterdam to do a master’s degree at the University of Amsterdam. I had won a bursary and since my mum and my stepdad lived in the Netherlands then, it seemed like a logical move.

Apart from the difficulty of the Dutch language – something I have been struggling with for more than twenty years now, the Netherlands was kinder to me than Belgium for the integration process. In every country I lived I thought it was important to experience it not as an expat, but as a local, because being immersed in a different culture (as I’ve learned) is an amazing experience that adds definite value to one’s life. Ok, I thought when I had first visited The Netherlands, they start a party in a reverse order: first cake with coffee, followed by warm food, and not the other way around like in all other countries across the world. Ok, they drink coffee all day long, and if you order your coffee in a café, you always get something sweet with it, such as a biscuit or a chocolate. And Dutch people bike everywhere, it is a part of public transport. All these traits of a nation make it interesting and if you make an effort to integrate, you are greatly rewarded.

Amsterdam and me was a love affair from the start (unlike Brussels that I learned to love with time) because the city is simply gorgeous from the architectural point of view. All these old buildings standing on the canals, beautiful river Amstel, the most impressive markets selling everything, from different parts of the world, and straightforward Dutch people who won’t lie into your face, as a rule. If they say something, they mean it, and moral values run high in this country. I can understand why Peter the Great was so impressed by the Netherlands, and built an entire city (Saint Petersburg) based on his inspiration from Amsterdam.

For the first two months I had to share a room in a house that was located quite far from the centre, and as a result, I didn’t enjoy much my new residence, apart from admiring Amsterdam when I would go to the master’s classes, that took place on Rokin, a central street, situated, of course, on one of the gorgeous canals.

I was liked by the management of the master program, and once they learned that I wanted to move to the centre, they found me a room with a view, in a student house, in the gorgeous Plantage area of the city, with its famous Artis zoo right around the corner. It was a huge sunny room, overlooking the canal.

After the move to my new room, life was beautiful for the remaining year of my studies. Our class at the master’s program was extremely friendly, and we socialized, partied, and in general, enjoyed our life, while having the privilege to live in such a beautiful place.

When I had first arrived to Amsterdam, I had no idea that I would stay there for seven years, work in finances as a financial analyst of banks, fall in love, and end up with what is called ‘psychosis’. Because of some childhood trauma I was suffering from constant stomach pain, and a release from the pain would take place eventually, I think, regardless of the place where I lived.

But it happened in Amsterdam, a magical place by all means.

(me in Amsterdam last week)