Dank u, Sinterklaasje!

Today is a special day in both the Netherlands and Belgium, for this evening is Saint Nicholas' Eve, the evening when Sinterklaas visits every house in the Netherlands and Belgium and sends his Zwarte Piets down chimneys to deliver presents to those children who have been good throughout the year. What happens to the bad children is frankly scary, for they are taken away to work in his factories in Spain for a year. If I were a five-year old I would have been terrified at the prospect, but maybe that's the idea. That today is Saint Nicholas' Eve also had an unexpected side benefit. I had intended to spend the afternoon in the library and was naturally devastated when I got there to find it closed. Sinterklaas, I owe you one.

Thankfully I have been good this year, and hence, this evening after being forced to sing traditional Dutch songs, I, along with about 30 others, was visited by Sinterklaas himself:


(Un)fortunately, I, unlike Richard, did not get to sit on his knee and have my yearly exploits recounted. Although I did later learn that had I been so lucky stories of my alter ego 'Bucks', from one of my vacation schemes, would have been told. So, my thanks to Sabs for that one!

The theme of the evening was quite simple, but fun. We all had to buy three presents totalling €5. These were distributed out to everyone, with people then taking turns in throwing a dice with potential outcomes such as stealing a present off someone else, exchanging a present, or (horror) giving one away. Alas, the dice did not swing my way and no sooner had I had a present stolen off me (the hat below) then I had to give one away. Thankfully I managed to recover and ended the evening with a bag of flumps, a little zebra shaped paper holder, and a little bottle of shower gel swiped from the NH hotel by someone who seemed to miss the point somewhat. Still, at least I shower for free tomorrow. I was very sad to lose the hat though, with a little black face paint I could have been a true Zwarte Piet:


I've now eaten far to many flumps and pepernoten than can possibly be good for me. It's traditional to write a poem to go with the gifts, but what little poetic skills I had left me for good after year 11, so instead, I'll quote the song that Dutch children are supposed to sing to get Sinterklaas to come along. Who knows, maybe this year if enough of you sing it, he'll find his way across the English Channel? In a capitalist society it's hardly far that Santa Clause has a monopoly, is it?

Sinterklaas kapoentje,
gooi wat in mijn schoentje,
gooi wat in mijn laarsje,
dank u, Sinterklaasje.
Sinterklaasje bonne, bonne, bonne,
gooi wat in mijn regen-, regentonne,
gooi wat in mijn laarsje,
dank u, Sinterklaasje!

I'm working on the translation.