A Princess Costume and a Whole Lot of Chaos.
Every country has its own festive days where people can indulge in the finest art of pretending to be someone else.
Days they will wear ridiculous costumes, and generally acting a fool—all in the name of fun.
In Israel, it’s Purim; in the U.S. (and pretty much everywhere else), it’s Halloween.
The granddaddy of them all is Rio de Janeiro’s Carnaval, with its wild parades and scantily clad samba dancers.
But, to my surprise, the second largest Carnaval celebration takes place in… Tenerife. Yes, Tenerife. Who knew?
When we first moved to Holland, we were completely clueless about their national holidays and festivals.
Even if we had known about them, we wouldn’t have had the time or energy to participate.
The first few years were a blur of survival mode—working constantly and staying home when we could to save money and bond as a family.
The thought of celebrating some random Dutch tradition was as appealing as a soggy croquette.
But when your child is six years old, you start hearing a different kind of pressure.
The kind that says, “Everyone else is doing it, so why aren’t you?”
Suddenly, cultural events become less of a ‘nice-to-have’ and more of a ‘must-do’ to avoid the dreaded parental guilt.
And so, we found ourselves stumbling into the world of Dutch Carnaval.
We were living in Amsterdam, where Carnaval wasn’t exactly a big deal.
Sure, people knew about it, but they didn’t really do it. In the south of Holland, however, Carnaval was the event of the year.
And, in February 2003, our friends David and Fay (both students of ours, no less) convinced us to join them for the big day in Den Bosch.
Now, Yoni and I are not exactly the type to throw on a costume and jump into a sea of drunken revelers.
But, when you have a kid, you tend to make sacrifices.
So, we dressed Thom up as a full-on princess and brought Eden along for moral support.
Our idea was to act enthusiastic about the whole ordeal while secretly longing for the comfort of our couch.
We met up with David and Fay in Den Bosch and, thank goodness, they recommended we take the train instead of driving.
Finding parking during Carnaval is like searching for a needle in a haystack, and even on regular days, parking in Den Bosch is a nightmare.
The day unfolded exactly as we had feared. Carnaval is… a lot.
There was music, there were parades, but there was also an overwhelming number of people, the majority of whom were progressively getting more drunk by the minute.
Yoni and I, with our best ‘parenting’ smiles, tried to make the most of it, but the whole thing felt like a circus—and not the fun kind.
We did manage to find a relatively peaceful corner where Thom and Eden could do some arts and crafts and dance a bit, but the rest of it?
Not exactly the best way to spend our free day.
Eventually, even Thom had enough of the madness, and we made a beeline for the train back to Amsterdam.
That was our first—and last—Carnaval in Holland.
But hey, there’s always Rio, right?
We’ll keep that one on the bucket list and hope that one day, we’ll be able to indulge in the madness… just maybe with fewer drunken crowds and a few more cocktail umbrellas.
