New Year’s Eve 2013

New Year’s Eve, an evening, night and early morning I guess, with many memories and ever changing traditions within a general pattern which has remained the same throughout my life: fireworks, the burning of Christmas trees which evolved into the burning of anything youngsters could lay their hands on from car tyres, wooden pallets, to whatever... Especially some inner cities are notorious for the vandalism on that particular night. So are some rural villages which normally offer little excitement for young people. Traditional throughout my life have been the “oliebollen” and “appelflappen”, covered in white powdery sugar. The oliebollen, deep fried currant buns, round balls, sponges of grease, always made me sick. Once during my student days combined with a glass of champagne they made me horribly sick. Isn’t alcohol supposed to neutralise fat? If so, it doesn’t happen without a fight, or rather a fierce battle within one’s body.

As a child there was church, a gloomy protestant service when all the deceased of the past year were named and we were reminded of our sins. And of the vulnerability of our lives. Isaiah 40- 6-8 was read:

...All mankind is grass, they last no longer than a flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon them:

The grass withers, the flowers fade, but the Word of our God endures for evermore.

(New English Bible) At least the end of the quotation offered hope, but the withering and dying depressed me most of all. Meanwhile the aroma of oliebollen and deep fried food wafted from clothes and hats and the hair of the repentant churchgoers. Did they really repent, or were they thinking of the coming feast, the abundance of deep fried currant buns? They were on every table, replacing the usual meals.

Later in life, I would celebrate with friends, and even later with my husband and his family. No church. The church I then belonged to kept to the liturgical year and did not see New Year’s Eve as a feast in the church calendar.

Then there came the time that I had to do without a husband. But there were parents and later just my father. He would stay at my house, or I would go and  stay with him. And now, things have changed again. But throughout all those years there were the deep fried delicacies, covered in snowy white sugar, something nice to look at, but never the cause of my expanding waistline.

As a child, New Year’s Day was the day for visiting relatives and perhaps friends, to wish them a happy New Year. Uncles and aunts would all gather at my grandmother’s house and large plates of oliebollen would be on the table. The same happened at the house of my other grandparents. It wouldn’t do to start the New Year hungry. Some people made literally bucketfuls of the “delicacy”.

Again, many years later, two or three of my neighbours would get together and bake oliebollen for everybody in our street, by the bucket. Around five in the afternoon we would flock to the open garage door and test the result of their efforts, washing the still warm oliebollen down with mulled wine, brewed by the women. That tradition lasted for years and years, till the children who grew up here, had their own families and would invite their parents to their homes and do the honours. That was the end of the street gatherings, except after midnight when in one of the houses there still is a far more civilized buffet of smoked salmon and cheese and biscuits, washed down with champagne.

So traditions have come and gone, everything changes, except for the oliebollen. And what also remains, are the fireworks, including the pyromania. And eye injuries, even resulting in permanent blindness.

This year an American friend is staying with me . Her impression of our New Year’s Eve celebrations – sent to friends back in Minnesota – are worth reading. They made me look at our customs with other eyes. (I edited it slightly in places) 

The Dutch really know how to do a New Years bash!  The big item in the celebration is fireworks. They can be legally blown off for about 24 hours. They are illegally blown off for about 3 days prior.  It goes on to be such a performance that they have to seal up the neighbourhood mailboxes ( where you can mail your letters) so that the kids don’t put firecrackers in them to blow them up!

So for the past days there have been firecrackers and rockets going off intermittently day and night, increasing in intensity until last night.
Last night we were invited to a party at the home of friends from my friend’s  church. There were about 20 people there. It started about 9 pm. Buffet style salads, dips, fish, cheese, wine, soda, juice. About 10:30 there was wine & cheese. Then at midnight there was champagne. They had mild fireworks for the kids ( two grade schoolers and several older boys, students) -- just firecrackers, sparklers, poppers, and some that you throw at the ground to make them pop. The sounds coming from other areas were incredible-- it sounded like artillery from all directions, coming from private fireworks and displays done in nearby towns. Later there was ice cream, sweets, cookie- type things. 

The group was mostly aged between 50-75 with sons of the host family and a woman with two children. All spoke English, Dutch, and other. Most had some British connection. (The church is English speaking Anglican, primarily people from the international community at The Hague and surrounding area.)  We got home about 2am.
Traditional foods sold at this time: oliebollen and appelflappen

Oliebollen are balls of sweet dough with raisins, currents which are deep fried--a bit like large donut holes.

Appelflappen are like a bismark but with an apple filling. 

They sell them everywhere ( grocery stores, stands in the street, at a stand outside the Garden Centre) but only at this time of the year. 

 The traditions continue today with a leisurely day ( that started about 10am! ) watching the Vienna Philharmonic live concert and then a skiing competition (the well-known one in Garmisch Partenkirchen in Germany). . ...

Apparently for her the fireworks were the most impressive and unusual part of our New Year’s Eve traditions. I must admit that at the party there were no oliebollen nor appelflappen, due to the international character of the partygoers as well as the nationalities of our host and hostess.

H A P P Y   N E W  Y E A R !!!

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