Andrew Carnegie, Vredespaleis, and a Place of Peace…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Not too far away from the Anna Paulonastraat of yesterday’s post, is the Carnegieplain.

I took these photos last summer one late afternoon when the sun was really not at a favourable angle at all, I didn’t go inside because there was a special event on so wasn’t open to the public right at that moment.

Therefore I took some  outside shots of the gates and building but really wanted to in this post about the person for whom this is named.

The  official website of the Vredespaleis  (Peace Palace)  http://www.vredespaleis.nl/default.asp?tl=0  tells the story in detail so I will just lift out some text and advise you that the rest of the website is well worth a visit and a read for further information.

Once I am fully mobile again this is a place that is high on my wish-list to visit and to learn more about.  Sadly I don’t, and never remotely will, possess even a minuscule percentage of  his wealth, but I dohope to emulate Andrew Carnegie’s philanthropic ideals whenever, and however I can in my lifetime.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Andrew Carnegie (1835 – 1919) was born Dunfermline, Scotland,the eldest son of William Carnegie, a linen weaver and local leader of the Chartists (a group that sought to improve the conditions of working class life in Great Britain), and Margaret Carnegie, daughter of Thomas Morrison, a shoemaker and political and social reformer.

When he was thirteen, the family moved to the United States, where he worked his way up from telegraph messenger to successful entrepreneur.

He had received little formal schooling and credited his education to his love of books. As a boy, he took advantage of the generosity of a person in his village who opened his library to local working boys.

Later, wishing others to have access to similar opportunities, since he believed books to be the key to knowledge and open mind, Carnegie gave gifts to communities in the United States to establish free public libraries.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

At the age of eighteen, he started working for the railroads. But Carnegie was never quite reconciled to working for other people.

He was still employed by the railroad when he invested in a new company being set up to manufacture railway sleeping cars.

In 1873, the first of his steel works started, taking advantage of the profit potential he saw in the Bessemer converter, the first practical method of converting iron ore into steel.

It was a unique company, founded on the philosophy of Carnegie that “it shall be the rule for the working man to be partner with capital… as an owner of the shares and so far interested in the success of his effort combined with that of the man of affairs.”

The steel company was very successful and Carnegie’s steel empire expanded over time. Later on, he invested his profits in oil fields, managing to profit first from the development of the train and afterwards from the transition from coal to oil as fuel.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Around 1900, one year after the Hague Peace Conference, Carnegie, aged sixty-five, decided to retire from business. In 1901, he concluded a historical transaction by selling his business to the banker J. Piermont Morgan for $480 million.

He then started working on what he considered “a far more difficult and serious” task than accumulating money, namely “spending it wisely”.

Carnegie’s personal motto was that “he who dies rich, dies in shame”.

According to him, wealth ought to be administered for the best good of the community. So he systematically donated money in the way he thought would most benefit the greatest number of people.

This self-made man believed that a lack of education was the cause of a great number of problems in society and was convinced that education of the public could solve many of these problems. As a result, he spent most of his fortune on funding educational institutions, establishing no fewer than 4,000 libraries and financing many church organs.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

But above all, Carnegie was a man of peace.

After the mediation of his friend Andrew White, Carnegie agreed to finance the construction of a world peace centre in The Hague with an amount of $1.5 million on condition that the centre would not just house the Permanent Court of Arbitration but also a legal library that would meet the highest possible standards.

In 1904, a special foundation was set up to manage the funds and the preparations for the construction. The Carnegie Foundation is still owner and manager of the grounds and buildings at the Peace Palace in The Hague.

By making use of the principles of “scientific philanthropy,” which he had outlined in his book,’ The Gospel of Wealth’, Carnegie proceeded to give away $350 million during the next 18 years.

By the time of his death in 1919, he had created 22 different Carnegie Institutions and trusts, all with the single purpose of benefiting humankind.

My Dutch Oma (Grandmother) was born in The Hague in 1897 and lived to be almost 100 years of age. I remember her telling me that she played as a child on the nearby Scheveningseweg as the Vredespaleis was being built and she and her parents went and looked when it was newly opened (1913).

(photograph © Kiwidutch)(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

The Lady who sits on the Anna Paulownastraat…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

No walking this summer so I’m diving back into my photo archives of last summer.

This little statue sits on the Plein on Anna Paulownastraat.

Anna Paulownastraat is named after Anna Paulowna Romanov,  the Grand Duchess of Russia, wife of King Willem II of the Netherlands.  Anna was born on January 18th, 1795 in Saint Petersburg and died in The Hague March 1st 1865.  Anna’s Father was Tsar Paul I of Russia between 1797 and 1801  and in February 1816 Anna was married to the Prince of Orange in Saint Petersburg.

The newlyweds first lived in Brussels  but were then required to move to The Hague which Anna found to be more provincial than she was used to  and she had difficulty adjusting since she used to the more formal and ritualistic style of the Russian court.

When her husband succeeded his father Willem I as King of the Netherlands in 1840 she was a supportive Queen but did not get overly involved in political affairs. They had five children together,  the oldest of which became the future King Willem III.

This statue sits under the centre-most tree of the plein by the intersection of  the street that now bears her name: Anna Paulownastraat, and the  Bazarstraat in The Hague.

Each summer some of the local cafe’s put out benches and seats onto the Plein for their patrons, and I thought it rather amusing as the statue looks like she’s sitting in the middle of  them as one of the patrons.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Forget Boys Toys…

Himself picked me up from physiotherapy the other day and wanted to make a stop at a shop to get some DIY stuff on the way home. I waited in the car and a few moments later, this vehicle pulled into a parking space across the street. My camera was in the car so naturally I took the opportunity to grab a photo.

Lady, I like your style!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Making a Feature of what Might have been Dull and Boring…

Since I’m not out and about at the moment, I’m going though some of the photos I took whilst out on walking trips last summer.

This one is the end wall of a building that I think is on the Segbroeklaan, close to the tram line and the bridge. I especially like that they made a feature of the end wall and didn’t just leave it as a gray slab.  Cool!

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

My First Ever “published” Photo! (Ok, Ok …. “only” published Photo LOL)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Everyone appreciates some recognition, not matter how small, so it was a very pleasant surprise to be contacted by the  people who run The Hague website: http://www.denhaag.nl/en.htm to ask if they could please use one of my photographs from the blog post I made:  http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2011/03/08/new-285/#comment-2726.

They wanted to advertise  the Antique and Book Market  that runs here throughout the summer on the Lange Voorhout.

I was totally amazed that anyone even thinks my photos are of any value and Wow, just to be asked, made my day. I said “yes” and they put in a photo credit link. The article they made is here: http://www.denhaag.nl/en/residents/to/Antique-and-Book-Market.htm

Sooo, I became world wide famous overnight? Well, um, (cough) No, but I have had at least a dozen extra hits from the link they put in and the pleasure of knowing I helped someone learn a little more about where I live and might even have helped tempt them to visit.

Not really the proverbial fifteen minutes of fame, more a nano second, but you know, I don’t mind about the numbers in the least. If only one person liked my photo, it still gives me a wee buzz.

I blog because I love writing, I want to make a “history” of our lifestyle for my kids and future generations because I enjoy writing about how and where and why I live here at this moment in time. If I can help anyone else on the way with my information then that’s very much just icing on the cake.

But this thought leads me to another thought…  Have you used or been inspired by anything  from someone else recently? If someone has helped you in any way, how about just letting them know and saying a simple “Thanks“.

I helped the website of The Hague with a Photo, they said “Thanks” by leaving a link back to my blog.  Here in this post I’m letting them know that it made my day that they used one of my photos. (and yes, ok , I am bragging juuuuust a teeny bit , but you already know that  small everyday things in life amuse me greatly so you will forgive me that I hope.)

Those All Important Dates….

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

If you live in most parts of the world and want to keep track of important family dates like Birthdays, Anniversaries , Memorials or any other especially important dates, then chances are that you have a yearly diary with a list in the back that you transfer year after year to the latest edition.

Or you have it stored electronically, but remembering to look at it regularly sometime trips you up and you know exactly which family member isn’t likely to forgive you for quite a while because you totally forgot that their Birthday was in June and not July when suddenly you kind of remembered it “ oops …it was somewhere around now .. wasn’t it?“

The Dutch do things rather differently. We have a special thing called “verjaardagskalender” (Birthday Calendar) expressly for this purpose and while it is similar to a regular calendar, there are two major differences.  First is: There are numerical dates listed, but no day of the week to go with the date,  Second: there’s  no mention of the year on it.

This means it’s a perpetual calendar and can be used year after year. The idea is that you write your important family dates in the correct page and place and you hang it somewhere where you will always see in time to remember that important event. (most popular spot in Dutch households appears to be the inside of the lavatory door). Yep, guilty, ours is there as well.

I would never dream of being so rude as to add my own name to other people’s calendars if it’s not there already but some members of people’s families have been known to do so whilst they were closeted in the little room.  Like regular year specific calendars, verjaardagskalenders come in a multitude of styles and sizes, and appear to be a very Dutch way of remembering Birthdays and Anniversaries.

Our old one was getting very old and tatty so we have a new one recently… gotta retrieve the old one and do some updating on it yet….  …before we accidentally forget someone’s Birthday.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Plodding on, One step at a Time…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I thought that today I would do a progress report on the mending process of my foot.

It’s a been a difficult time of late as we step up the physiotherapy activity and try to put more pressure on bits of my foot that are really unhappy about the demands I want to make on it.

Slowly but surely since March, the edema (swelling) has massively reduced, but we still have the daily struggle that my foot is several sizes bigger at the end of the day than is it is at the beginning, that I can’t get any of my shoes to fit even the least swollen moments and that the pain is constant.

I totally understand that working through the pain is a severe necessity, it’s literally a case here of “no pain no gain“. I totally understand that we need to be pushing the limits as far as possible because not being able to push my foot up 90 degrees to my leg will result in shortened calf muscles if I don’t, and shortened calf muscles is a disaster that would mean I’d never be able to walk straight even after my foot works again.

It’s far easier to say “push through the pain” than to actually do it, but I have been persevering and it hasn’t been fun. There have been times when I have simply pushed too far and the result has been three or four days of complete misery afterwards, sucking up strong prescribed painkillers, sleeping very badly and sitting  trying not to burst into tears every 10 minutes.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I’ve seen frustration levels that I never thought I had and I’ve had “words” with my surgeon where I vented by taking a list of question I said I really would like answers for please.

I asked for some straight answers to some very blunt questions.

I expressed my frustration that when I came out of the operation at the end of November that I was told “six weeks in plaster” and that when I turned up naively with a shoe six weeks later, they smiled like I was a little kid and said ” oh no, it’s always 10 weeks in plaster for this injury” .

I had told my boss ” six weeks in plaster” now I felt like an idiot going back and saying “noooo, sorry, another month yet“.

The hospital is a busy place and I know there were plenty of people to see before me and even more to see afterwards but telling me “more x-rays before the next appointment and see you in a month” every month since February just puts me on hold for another four weeks and gives me no clue what to realistically expect next.

I am under no illusions that repairing this mess has been mega complicated, that when your foot is the size of a small melon that’s it’s not reasonable to ask even a surgeon for a rough date when it will be back to functioning normally.  There is no crystal ball to see into the tissue layers, there are limits to what can be done and seen at different stages of the mending process.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I expressed my frustration of being told I could get the plaster off and walk with the pressure bandages supplied, I wore one home from the hospital that day and it hasn’t been on since.

Dystrophia needs help for these sleeping muscles to wake up and not nice lazy devices to relieve them of their work. If we want them to function again, we have to start today, now, directly before more movement is lost.

I asked the thorny question of the surgeon:  Best  and Worst case scenarios please, nothing in stone, no guarantees, just the best you can do today, with the information we have right now.

He explains that there are two things in this equation:  First, Percentage of healing we are aiming for and hope to achieve.

The majority of people will achieve near to 100% back, (I certainly aim to be in this group). A small percentage will achieve almost all back, but it will be more difficult to achieve and a minuscule percentage will loose a percentage of  function on a permanent basis.

The second factor in the equation is: Time.

That varies from individual to individual and many many factors get thrown in that will influence how long it all takes. This is where no-one can really say accurately because the healing process uncovers complications (or not) as it progresses. No-one can predict this bit in advance. I don’t expect them to give me any written guarantee, but a guesstimate would be nice please.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Based on information we have right at this moment, my Best Case Scenario turns out to be: walking more or less hopefully back at full function by Christmas, and Worst Case Scenario is much the same outcome, but only by this time next year.

I can not expect to be driving a car (ours is manual) at least before Christmas even in the best case scenario.

Suspecting that recovery was literally going  too painfully slow, and with discussions with my very pro-active physiotherapist , I went armed to my last appointment with the surgeon with a detailed letter from the physiotherapist outlining in medical lingo what bits were now working and what bits are still stuck and requesting an urgent appointment with a rehabilitation specialist, which after expressing my list of hard and unhappy questions he obligingly pushed through as fast as was possible.

I saw the rehabilitation specialist  last week and she is in the process of making a report for the surgeon that will outline goals I hope to achieve by set dates. In order to achieve these goals they agree that I need an especially made adjustable shoe made that will give maximum sideways support to my foot in all the necessary places, but allow me to slowly extend pressure and encourage just up/down movement to the front of my foot that is currently not possible because supporting two directions at once is just too much to achieve at the moment.

I’m assured that it will look more like a sneaker shoe than an old fashioned orthopedic boot and I’m waiting on the specifications to arrive (any day now) so that we can go immediately to the shop and get the wheels in motion. Oh not actual wheels, but you get the gist.

The last three months have been the toughest, if I thought that seven plaster casts were bad then I hadn’t reckoned on the effects of long term pain and not knowing when it was going to end. There has been the few weeks that have been more backwards than forwards and there have been more tears than I wanted to know about, along with frustrations of missing kids special school events, special family outings and a multitude of other things.

There are many days when I want to fling the crutches out the window, even with the special shoe I will need them for some time yet, but they are a hassle and it’s the small things that irritate and upset most: like people hanging up before you can get to the phone or not being able to  scoop up the kid who’s just fallen out of bed in the night and needs an instant cuddle in their fright and pain.

Himself has been wonderful, he’s gaining multi-tasking skills that he never knew possible. Some days are bedlam, drop off kids, deliver me at hospital or physio, go home to work for a bit until he has to collect his mother for a Dr appointment, see a client ,pick me up, work some more, get the kids, cook dinner and then work into the night to get the work finished. He’s renovating too in between everything else.

At best this is temporary, at worst it’s long temporary and I’m just sick of it already. I SO wish I could just walk again. It’s  hard to have the incentive to participate in anything much when the pain just won’t give up. It  wears you down. I’m trying every day to be positive, after all  many people suffer far worse every day of their lives. But I’m not perfect and some days are hard going.

I peddle on my little “cycle” and exercise with the gadgets I got from the physio. Let’s hope that the new shoe when it comes, speeds things up a tad. Progress IS progress, so “onwards and upwards” as they say… but some days real progress  just can’t come fast enough.

Crossing Borders and the Belgium “situation”…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We’ve been staying at the Novotel in Lens, northern France.

The stairs were too much of a hassle to attempt twice on crutches so Himself bought up a breakfast tray for me in the room and took the kids downstairs afterwards so that they could get hot chocolate, yogurt and croissants.

We packed up after breakfast and once in the van it was a relatively short distance to the Belgium border.

Land border crossing points fascinate me, New Zealand of course only sports it’s natural sea border so the possibility of  simply driving into a foreign country has always held a fascination for me.

Before we had kids, Himself and I had to deliver a friend to Strasbourg,  since the friend hailed from a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and also found land borders to be a novelty, we thought it would be fun to drive in five countries in one day. We started in The Netherlands, transversed  Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany and France and delighted our friend with the small tour.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

It’s also amazing for me because when I first visited Europe as a kid, crossing each border was a long long hassle that involved queues of vehicles at the border crossings, customs, currency exchanges and passport checks and spot car searches.

The spot checks for cars still go on, and I think that all trucks are checked for customs and excise reasons but these days the border buildings are a shadow of their former selves and pretty much the only thing that really tells you that you have passed from one country to the next are the standard European Union border signs.

It’s been a decade since we had to check around the junk draw in the house to grab any leftover Belgium money before a trip to France so that if we wanted a sandwich or a toilet stop in Belgium on the way we would have the right currency to pay with. Heaven help you in those days if you offered to pay in Dutch Guildens in Wallonia or with French Francs in Flanders. The reception you would get upon attempting this was frosty to the point that you risked being snap frozen.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I know that the introduction of the Euro wasn’t without it’s troubles  in the initial stages of the changeovers but wow, it makes travel within the EU member states that use it so much easier now.

One thing always makes me smile, our dear friend across the border Belgium, oft only famous for the fact that no one can think of much famous from it at all, (actually I can think of quite a few things after a little think: World class beer and chocolate, Frittes “french fries”,  Yes indeed, French fries are not from France !, Mannekin Pis,  sprouts, the capital of the EU , the comic book hero Tin-Tin  and the movie actor Jean-Claude Van Damme.)

Mostly though, it’s lightly ridiculed and plagued in it’s short history by the ongoing internal conflict between the Dutch speaking Flemish population in the North of the country (Flanders) and the French speaking Walloon population in the south (Wallonia) and it suffers the indignation of being the butt of both French jokes and Dutch ones too.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Such is the discord within the country that many inside and outside think that partition may be the only option in the long run.

The economic wealth in the country is concentrated to a large extent in the Flemish section of the country but the Wallonian section of the country is bigger than the Flemish section, so when it comes to electing a government their differences have been so great that they have been unable to get any coalition government formed at all, resulting in  a “caretaker” “temporary” government who have now been in power longer than the elected one it was supposed to replace.

It’s clear when we cross the Belgium border that their political problems aren’t going to be easily solved any time soon.  The name of the country in French is “Belgique” and the Vlaams  “België” and it is telling that when you cross the border that they even keep these name boards separate, just a few meters away from each other, but separate.  So many fabulous things in one country but they can’t resolve their differences. I think it’s a shame.

Crossing Belgium doesn’t take long, about an hour and then it’s time for our final border crossing of the day: Nederland. Once we see some of the “big rivers” with the busy barge traffic it’s clear that home is not far away at all now…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Hotel Review: Novotel Lens Noyelles in Northern France.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We are still pushing northwards towards the Netherlands and the Belgium border is not too far away.

In theory if we pushed on, and the evening traffic thinned a little with no hiccups on the way, we could be home in about two hours or so.

But it’s been a long day in the car and Himself is tired, with me unable to provide assistance as second driver we take the safer option and start looking for a hotel for the night.

We were delighted with the Novotel we stayed in at Chartres  http://kiwidutch.wordpress.com/2011/05/27/novotel-chartres/ and so when we spot another Novotel at Lens, we pull in the gates with a smile. Suddenly the weariness hits us, my foot begins to ache with a vengence, the kids are getting irritated with each other and we are starving.

Himself disappears inside to Reception to ask if they have a Family room available. He comes out looking a bit glum… there are two family rooms available but one is upstairs (there is no lift) and the other is a smoking room.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

I’m a little astounded, families who use these rooms usually have younger kids, think push-chairs, baby seats, nappy bags and all the kid junk you need when travelling with young kids etc seriously,  why are Family rooms not automatically on the ground floor if there is no lift in the building? and even more worrying ….they actually allow smoking in a Family rooms where babies and young children sleep? in 2011 ? yikes.

I have chemical lung damage and an asthma problem so now we are faced with the choice, either I get to hobble up stairs ( painful) or I get to wheeze all night.  Even if I didn’t have a lung condition I wouldn’t want my kids sleeping in a smoking room.

We are tired to the point where we are  past looking for another hotel so I opt for the non-smoking room and the stairs and they tell us that there’s a restaurant on site but it’s clear that I can’t do the stairs twice so room-service it will be.

We order dinner,  and it’s tasty enough but there’s not a huge amount of it. I’ve included a second photo of Himself’s main to show you the whole plate.  Himself  was still hungry afterwards but too tired to be bothered ordering something extra and waiting for it to arrive etc.  All the little touches that made the other hotel special seem to a little off the mark here.

The view is only of the rooftop of the hotel… but for just off the motorway it’s quieter than I expected at least.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

We do however sleep very well and wake refreshed… let’s see what the new days brings.

 

Not just the Kilometers Racing Past…

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

Sometimes you see something from nature unfold before your eyes and are thankful to have your camera at hand.

It’s not too often that I really study clouds, most of the time we get the hazy wispy stuff, nothing terribly dramatic, but as we pass l’aéroport Charles de Gaulle outside Paris,  my attention is drawn to the fact that there are big storm clouds looming and that there is a majestic display of  white, black, blue and gray going on in the sky above us.

All of the following photos were taken in the order in which they appear, in approximately a ten minute minute period, and I even got a tongue in cheek  “bird on a wire” photo in the middle of the sequence. To be truthful, being in a moving car and taking photos out the window doesn’t really do these photos proper justice, the colours and variances looked far more intense and dramatic at the time. Oh to have been able to walk, able to stop, to have had a tripod and time to experiment… another day I’m sure I will get my chance. Today I had to make do with the fleeting opportunity presented alongside a motorway and airport.

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

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(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)

(photograph © Kiwidutch)