And so they moved into the marshes...

And I am one of them. I am one of the people who follow in the footsteps of those who, centuries ago, moved into the marshes, since tamed and turned into polders – onto which Amsterdam has been built – of the rivers Rhine, the Maas, and the Scheldt, at the foot of the North Sea, southwest of Germany, and just east of England. But, now that I speak Dutch I notice often that I 'miss the mark' when at a store checking out with a cashier, or doing the same at a bank, or when ordering and sandwich at a deli; even if I say everything right in Dutch – as well as its pronunciation and syntax – if the recipient doesn't hear what's expected in the beginning and ending of a conversation (as in the colloquial Dutch greets/goodbyes and the matching body language), it sort of throws the other off quite a bit. Suddenly you're questionable. Or at least a bit different. And so the unwritten-unspoken codes of a language has more to do with putting people at ease, than it does to acutally communicate anything. I ususally leave these expected-sayings-and-movements out of my speech and interactions anyway, often because I don't know them fully or because I'll merge my American manners and use my Dutch language skills as a means to express those manners. But this is the same when I speak English. I am just being myself, why still being conscious of those around me, of course. It is very easy to fall into patterns, especially with, for instance, the super-market check-out girls. 'Hello, Hello; Bonus card? Yes; Pin. Receipt? Yes; Thanks. Good weekend; You too, bye,' and so on. I find it much more fufilling to, for instance, chat with the wonderful book-keepers of Boekhandel Mulder on the lovely Cornelis Schuytstraat in the Ou-Zuid, just below the Concertgebouw, or equally be sociable with the shop-keepers of the adjacent Organic food shop, whilst around to the east of the Concertgebouw, Renzo's employees too will take their time and listen to your mid-level Dutch, smile, and throw-out their Dutch right back. Quite quickly I'm learning that language can denote who's in and who's out; who belongs and who doesn't. And it's all interesting to take in fromt a native English perspective, with the skills to at the same time understand everything being said around me in Dutch. Fun! Language has played a key role in European past, as in many societies, of status, rank, and recognition. I imagine that my spoken Dutch is exotic, mysterious, semi-correct, and yet not quite the norm as those around me. That becomes overcome with time. It is fun to speak Dutch; the language suits me quite well.