"Elf november is de dag dat mijn lichtje branden mag" ("The eleventh of November is the day on which I may let my light shine").  This is one of the more traditional songs sung door-to-door on the occasion of the feast day of Sint Maarten (as opposed to the more modern, more unconventional versions about mice lying in the hospital screaming, with their backsides exposed to the world).

Similar to the American celebration of Halloween, Sint Maarten is primarily an occasion for soliciting candy from neighbors.  The kids troop from one door to the next, ring the bell, and then sing a little song when the host opens the door -- which hopefully results in a tray of candies and mandarine oranges being produced, from which each child may choose an item or two to put in the bag that their parent typically holds for them (since their hands are full with their lampionetjes, little self-made paper lanterns, which are supposedly lighting the way).  Because of all the sugary treats gathered in the bags, parents also like to joke:  "Twaalf november is de dag dat de tandarts boren mag" ("The twelfth of November is the day on which the dentist may begin drilling").

This year, we went out for Sint Maarten with a group of other kids from Elliot and Olivia's school.  It was fun to be with other kids, and it was also fun to center our circuit around another nearby neighborhood (the Watergraafsmeer) which is a bit more Dutch and more upper-middle class.  I like our lower class immigrant neighborhood just fine, actually -- but you do tend to miss some of the more typische Nederlands (typical Dutch) character of holidays like Sint Maarten when the typical experience from previous years has been a group of 10 Moroccan boys showing up at your door without lampionetjes or parental accompaniment and singing a quick song before holding out their grocery sacks to quickly collect whatever candy might be offered.

I guess I'm just trying to say that it was a special joy to be able to experience a Sint Maarten celebration as it is more likely meant to be celebrated:  a fun and beautiful little holiday in the middle of November.

Then, as fate would have it (the calendar does not always align quite so favorably), the day after Sint Maarten -- i.e. today -- happens this year to be the day that the daily broadcast of the Sinterklaas Journaal starts... which means that Sinterklaas arrives in the Netherlands on his steam ship this weekend... which means that it's just three more weeks until the most beloved of all Dutch holidays!

The advent of the Sinterklaas season is a little bit like the American idea of Santa Claus riding in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade... except it's so much more hyped here.  Sinterklaas' arrival is covered like a real news event (for the children, of course).  It's a smoothly coordinated story in which the television station, the school systems, the municipal governments, and parents all collaborate together to make the illusion of Sinterklaas complete.  You really have no idea if you've never experienced it for yourself (with small children in the house to really accentuate the experience).

Our children have shown themselves to be quite in tune with Dutch culture on this point.  For the past several days, they've been excitedly asking each morning:  "Daddy -- is today the day that Sinterklaas Journaal starts?!?!"

And today was finally the day that I could say yes.

I really don't understand the deep love of Sinterklaas and his Zwarte Pieten.  It just seems so foreign to me.  Even now, after six years of living in the Netherlands, I'm still initially shocked each year by the first image of a bumbling black-faced Zwarte Piet in colorful velvet clothing (it seems so crude, so offensive, and so racist to someone raised in late-20th Century America, like me).  And yet, my kids love the Pieten.  They want to dress up like them.  They love to laugh at their ludicrous antics.  They see them as heroes and friends -- not at all as buffoons and objects of mockery (note:  this is, from my experience, the way that Dutch people genuinely process the whole Zwarte Piet tradition; it really is all in good fun and not intended to be at the expense of anyone!).  They appreciate Sinterklaas in a way that I never can... kind of like the ontbijtkoek (ginger-flavored sponge cake) which Elliot and Olivia love to devour, but which I can hardly eat without gagging.  It's kind of weird to see my kids growing up differently than myself... But then again, it's kind of fun, too.

I'm actually really glad that our family gets to join in the fun of these unique holidays of the Netherlands.  Each year I'm growing to appreciate it (and even anticipate it) more and more, myself.  I'm growing to accept and embrace this Joy of November.