I spent this Saturday at a typical Dutch birthday party (or fairly typical anyway...no sitting in a circle at this one).  At such an event, family and friends of the "jarige" (person celebrating) are invited to come and eat cake, drink coffee and chit chat for a few hours.  The polite thing to do when you arrive is to congratulate the person whose birthday it is...but also everyone else who's there.  I found this pretty strange the first time.  My boyfriend started going around the room, shaking everyone's hand and saying "gefeliciteerd", of course without warning me that this was the custom.  

At this birthday party, I had a bit of a chat with one of my boyfriend's uncles.  I've met him before, but he seemed to forget where I was from etc...so I had to give the usual explanation about what I was doing here and where I came from/why etc.  When I told him I was Canadian, he began to tell me how he remembers being freed by the Canadians at the end of WWII.  Hearing these sorts of stories never fails to bring me to tears.  (I cry easily...but still.)  Being here, and meeting people who lived through that time, makes you realize that that time wasn't so long ago.  It also makes me realize how lucky I am to have been born at the time and place I was.  I have met people here who were literally in concentration camps or prison camps during the war, and it is amazing to see how resilient they are.  They have gone on to make wonderful lives for themselves, despite all they have seen and been through.