This is my father’s experience as a Bachelor’s student in Holland.
Yesterday, I was reflecting on the moment when I got a scholarship to study abroad. It was a satisfying experience. There’s a sense of accomplishment that made me feel like I’ve finally figured out my life. However, soon enough I was frightened and agitated by the thought of leaving the safety of my home and relocating to an entirely new city.
I had been awarded a scholarship to study in Holland for about a year. As you have guessed, I was terrified to go there, but my father consoled me and took me to Pancha Kashmiri Takiya Masjid in Durbar Marg, Kathmandu.
We were half-Hindus and half-Buddhists, so going to a Mosque instead of a Buddhist monastery or Hindu Temple might seem a little strange. However, we didn’t give it much thought then, as religious diversity is highly respected in Kathmandu.
My father was an engineer at the time, employed at Khumaltar, Lalitpur. From his professional relationship, he knew a Muslim mason there. So, it was this mason who accompanied us to his Mosque to meet the ‘Dharma Guru,’ to overcome my anxiety.
That was the time when renowned Islamic Dharma Gurus (meaning: religious teachers) from all over the world had assembled in the Masjid for a special ceremony. We had the opportunity to meet one of the Dharma Gurus, and my father told him that I was debating whether or not to go to Holland.
Dharma Guru listened to my father’s words calmly and proceeded. He took what seemed to be a piece of paper and said several words to it. Well, essentially he set a spell on a sheet of paper, reciting a mantra. He then folded the paper and put it in a small silver box known as a ‘Jantar’. He gave it to me and told me that if I wore it around my shoulder, my journey to Holland would be safe and that I’d finish my degree and comfortably fly home.
This conversation, I must confess, didn’t help. The usefulness of spells didn’t concern me since I was still nervous about the trip. However, I tied the Jantar around my shoulder when I left for the flight in suit and tie.
At the airport, I met my friend who had earned the same scholarship to Holland as me, and we boarded the plane together. The next morning, it was 5.45 am, and we had a wonderful experience inside the airplane. My friend and I, who were both dressed in suits, were admiring the tranquility of the scene.
However, our university was situated in Delft and there was no direct flight available. So firstly, we had to disembark from the airport in Leiden and then take a train from there to the Delft station. My friend and I were both anxious because we were new to the country. We had to ask the train master if their train was going to Delft any time one came in because there were so many trains leaving in various directions.
Since it was so early, the station wasn’t much crowded. After a moment, a young African man came in our direction, from the same airport we came from. We were the only three people at the station, waiting for our train in silence.
A few minutes later, a train arrived at the station and came to a complete halt in front of us. In a polite voice, the African man approached me and asked, “Delft?” “Yes!” I said and shook my head, puzzled as to how he knew where I was headed. As soon as I responded, the man quickly entered the train and left without saying anything more. I didn’t give this experience much thought. My friend and I just got up and went over to the train master to see if this was our train.
The master informed us that the next train would be heading to our destination, so we eagerly awaited the next train. The train arrived after 20 minutes, and we confirmed with the train master if it was bound for Delft. We boarded the train because the train master told us that it was the right train. We were both ecstatic to finally arrive at our university at this stage.
We arrived at the Delft station shortly after and disembarked. My friend and I both had $200 at the time, and it was our first day in Holland, so we were careful about how we spent it. We took a taxi because we didn’t know how to get to our college. We wanted to see the taxi meter and pay $100 each because we were completely unaware of the taxi’s fare in the city. We agreed that if the taxi fare exceeded that amount, we would exit the vehicle and walk to our university, asking the locals for directions.
Then we summoned a cab and boarded it. We informed the taxi driver of our college’s name and requested that he take us there. The driver accepted and started the engine.
The meter read 2 guilders as soon as the engine began. One US dollar was worth two guilders at the time. We remained quietly in our seat, our gaze fixed on the taxi meter. The driver sped the engine, and the meter read 17 guilders after only a minute, which our minds converted to 8.5 dollars.
Then the taxi driver stopped the engine and stared at us. We were both staring at the taxi driver, trying to figure out why he was pulling over. The taxi driver pointed outside the window after a brief exchange of awkward eye contact. Then we turned around and saw our college’s sign board. It turned out that our college was just a 5-minute walk away from the Delft station.
We got off and payed our fare, realizing that instead of taking a cab, we should have just asked the locals about our college’s location. I checked my watch to see that it was 6.30 a.m and we were both starving after not eating enough on the plane. We entered the college premises and inquired about our accommodations with the receptionist.
The friendly receptionist pointed to the basket of biscuit meant for the new comers and gave us some to take with us. We each took two packets of biscuits and went to our respective dorms. Surprisingly, my friend was assigned to a dorm room whereas I was assigned to a hotel room at the campus. Since his room lacked utensils, we sat in my room, which had a little kitchen and utensils.
We were still wearing our suit and tie like the men in black. However, we had no idea Holland would be so cold that we’d be shivering after just 20 minutes there. We had to unpack our luggage and look for heavy coats and jackets to wear as soon as possible because the weather was too cold. We shared biscuits and Rara noodles that we had brought from Nepal because we didn’t know anyone there. Then we took a walk around the college to get a feel for the city.
In the evening we returned to my room and cooked Rara noodles in available utensils. Then we talked for some more hours, but then we got bored of staying in, so we went outside to sit on the couch near the receptionist’s desk and watch new students arrive.
I was staring at the gate, and soon enough I recognized a familiar face running towards the receptionist’s desk. It was the African man from the Leiden station who knew I was going to Delft! And it occurred to me as soon as I saw him that he may not have asked if I was going to Delft, but rather if the train was going to Delft. “So, did the African man get lost in a new city because of me for 17 hours?” I asked myself, but it wasn’t my fault, it was just a miscommunication, right?
My assumption sounded correct because he told the receptionist that he was one of the scholarship recipients and that he hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. The receptionist then showed him the basket with biscuits, but it was already empty since it was very late by then, around 11 pm.
After sometime the receptionist looked towards us as we were close to the receptionist’s desk. She called us and asked us if we had any food left. The African student then turned around and looked at me with wide eyes.
He walked towards us at a fast pace and seemed exhausted. “Is it okay if I eat in your room? I am really tired,” he said as I was about to offer my justification to my fellow African pal. He didn’t seem to recognize me, maybe because I was dressed up in a suit at the Leiden station, so he must’ve mistook me for a morning train commuter. Maybe he didn’t recognize me presently because I was wearing a bulky jacket and looked like a normal student now. I didn’t dare to say a word to him about meeting him in the morning, but I was sad about the miscommunication.
We entered my room with our new mate. We only had food that I brought from Nepal because it was my dorm. So I offered him a Newa snack called ‘Lakha Mari,’ a kind of fried bread with a sugary coating. He was so hungry that he didn’t even inquire as to what it was. When he was done, he hugged me in happiness and thanked me for the food before leaving to find his dorm.
Then I accompanied my Nepali friend to his dorm after some chit-chat. Out of curiosity, I decided to go explore our college on my own after dropping him. Even at 11:30 p.m., it felt like an evening as our college was located in the North Pole. I began wandering around by myself, but the light began to fade, so I turned around to return to my dorm.
I was, to my horror, lost. I tried to find my way back to college, but I ended up in a totally different place. I was covered in sweat by now as I forgot my university’s name. I didn’t want to panic, so I took a deep breath and considered finding the Delft station. The station was only 5 minutes away, and it was a straight road to my campus from there. I looked for locals, but it was getting dark by this time, so I couldn’t locate anybody. The street lamp began to turn on, so I was less frightened.
Soon I heard a footstep amidst the silence. When I looked down at the ground, a big shadow was visual
When I turned around, I saw a middle-aged man. I was relieved to have finally found someone. I asked him where the Delft station was, and he pointed up towards the sky. For a brief moment, I was perplexed, but then I looked up. I was, in reality, standing just below the bridge located infront of the station at the time.
I thanked him for the direction and began climbing the bridge’s staircase. I reached the station, and continued on the straight lane. I found my college’s sign board within 5 minutes and went back to my dorm to sleep. I cooked Rara noodle in the utensil again the next day for me and my friend. In our dorm, we were given a personal locker to store our belongings. So, as there were no hangers and the utensils were just sitting on the concrete, I decided to put them in the locker.
Since it was our first day of class, me and my friend entered our classroom early. The room was large enough to hold hundreds of students, but there were only 16 of us after 20 minutes. The professors started explaining about the teaching styles there. We discovered that part-time teachers only teach for 2-3 weeks on a given topic. After that, they complete the course, take the test, and we don’t see them again after our assessment. They taught from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and there was a 10-minute coffee break for every 50 minutes of class time. We also took an hour-long lunch break right in the middle.
Since it was a 24-hour campus, we had classes from 7.45 a.m. to 5.30 p.m. and from 7 p.m. to 2 a.m. We were only able to sleep from 2 a.m. to 7 a.m. Since we had to study in two shifts with full-time professors, we were able to finish the two-year course in just one year. All regular professors lived close to the campus, so we could quickly contact them if we had any questions. They will come in at any hour of the day or night if we call them.
After knowing the college’s system, I returned to my dorm. My dorm door was already unlocked, much to my surprise. I walked in and found a senior standing there waiting for me.
The senior looked frustrated. He inquired about the kitchen’s utensils. Since I thought it was for my own use, I told him that they were in my locker. After hearing this, he politely told me that the utensils belonged to him and that he was on holiday for some days. As it turned out, we were roommates, and I didn’t know that. He couldn’t find his utensils when he arrived, and couldn’t cook for the whole day.
I apologized for my misunderstanding, and he graciously directed me to where I could get my own utensils. Our seniors took us to the market the next day to buy our own utensils and vegetables. We were then able to shop independently at the store. We quickly found that the cost difference between cheap and costly food was minimal. As a result, we ate high-priced foods.
My time in Holland whizzed by in an instant. I used to go to the train station alone every Sunday with a sandwich and either juice or coffee. Then I’d go to different cities as we could travel from different stations on the same day with the same return fare.
After some months, I got bored of train travel. So, I went to the administrative capital city of Holland, The Hague, and bought a bicycle there, which I rode all day.
It was a second-hand bike, and I just intended to use it for a few days before selling it. Throughout the day, I continued to cycle and lost track of time. It soon got silent. I quickly noticed the bike lacked a headlight, and cycling without lights was not allowed in that area.
Fearing a police officer, I attempted to cycle quickly to my university, but a fast-moving car approached the intersection. I attempted to stop the bike, but the breaks were strange. In fact, there were no breaks, but instead, I had to paddle backwards to bring the bicycle to a halt. But I didn’t have time to do so, so I grabbed a nearby pole and prevented the accident. Since I was also speeding on my bicycle, suddenly holding onto the pole resulted in some hand injury. The car driver gave me an angry glance for not turning on the cycle’s headlight.
I returned to college and did my own first aid. I was just relieved that no police officer caught me for driving a bicycle without lights at night.
While we are taking about accidents, I also remember the time when I was on the verge of drowning in a lake. My foreign friends wanted to hang out with me for the final time on my last day in Holland. Selena from Cuba, Hema from Sri Lanka, and Ahnish from Bangladesh were among my friends. The lake was located near a sandy area. I simply walked towards the lake and slipped. The water didn’t seem to be very deep, but the sand was very slippery, and I fell into it. It was my lucky day that my buddies were nearby and came to my rescue right away.
I’m also reminded of a dissatisfied Indian lecturer. In fact, not just him but many other professors acted strange with me and my Nepali companion. One day on a field trip, the Indian professor gave me a pair of boots and both of them were for the left foot. I had to walk in the mismatched boots the entire field.
I was never sure why he was so mean to me. But I wanted to find out one day. So I invited him to join me for drinks at a pub. My professor continued to drink 2-3 pecks of alcohol while I only drank one. Soon after, a bar girl approached us; she was well-known in the city. Her father was Dutch and her mother was Muslim. My friends used to talk about her. I gave her a cash tip out of the blue, and she was so grateful that she thanked me several times.
Soon the professor got drunk, and he revealed that previous Nepali students had been cruel to many of the university’s professors and had clashed with them. This gave Nepali students a poor reputation, and many professors began to have misconceptions regarding Nepali people. This was the reason he was so harsh with me. After hearing all of this, I decided to enhance Nepali students’ image.
Since I knew that my Indian professor liked alcohol, I bought some branded alcohol for him when I went on an internship in Portugal and Spain for my course. He was so overjoyed that he took me on a stroll through the city. Since I had already graduated from college, it was my last week in Holland.
I always used to leave university through the left gate to explore the area. However, this time the professor took me through the right gateway, and I was pleasantly delighted to see such a lovely view. I had no idea that the right gate led to a tiny village with lovely, modest homes. We went for a walk around the village and became better acquainted.
I discovered that his grandfather was a Bihar native. Even though they were living in Holland, he, his grandparents, and father had married an Indian woman. His wife had however, abandoned him, and he felt lonely with no friends and family members. That day, he said I was a good friend to him. After that, we also went to various cities inside Holland with each other including Amsterdam.
My Indian professor bought me a lot of gifts on my last day. He sobbed and hugged me, as we had become such close friends in such a short time. Since then, the reputation of Nepali students in that university had improved. I know this because after our tenure there, they began to give more scholarships to Nepali students.
Finally, I recall my African friend from Leiden station. I never found out what his name was. He took a ‘Mineral Exploration’ course while I was pursuing ‘Geophysics’. We met for three weeks on a common subject’s class and we did a month of field work together.
He always used to hug me gratefully whenever he met me in the college premises. It was because of the ‘Lakha Mari’ I gave him on the first day he arrived at the university, exhausted and hungry. I never told him it was me in the black suit on that particular day in Leiden station who he asked, “Delft?”and then proceeded to ride the wrong train. Your mother thinks I should’ve told him about it, just as a joke but I guess some things are better left unsaid.