Originally from San Francisco, Tuaca Kelly is a spoken word artist, poet, and creative producer. She says everyone should have a Museumkaart, was surprised to there was no floor in her apartment when she moved in and would like to have met the Van Gogh family. 

How did you end up in the Netherlands?
Poetry. I’m a second generation American and my grandfather’s family is known for their music and poetry. It’s in the genes. They immigrated from Ireland. During the war, like most men his age, my grandfather enlisted. While stationed in Germany, he met my grandmother and she later gave birth to their first child.

Years later, I asked my grandmother if she wanted to return to Germany and if I could go with her. Her answer surprised me. She suggested Holland instead and said she liked the flowers and the canals. In a completely unrelated conversation, my mum also expressed a desire to one day live in Amsterdam.

Fast forward to my adulthood when I read a beautiful Dutch poem. While it wasn’t the reason for my move to Europe in 2011, it served as a catalyst for me to take action on a mature desire to explore my European roots.

How do you describe yourself – an expat, lovepat, immigrant, international?
I can’t imagine not being Irish or American. Coming from a military family, I’m surely patriotic, though beyond the customary vows made during The Pledge of the Allegiance or The Oath of Enlistment if you’re familiar with those, I am first and foremost a woman of God.

I’m not religious, per se, nor an accomplished theologian in the classical sense. However, I am certainly spiritual and I invest care and attention in developing my relationship with Jesus Christ. I couldn’t have a better mentor and I’m awed to witness his grace and feel his hand as it relates to my purpose in Amsterdam.

How long do you plan to stay?
I honestly don’t know. I’m truly in God’s hands. I can, however, say that my grandmother often missed her family in Germany and my grandfather would reminisce about Ireland. I miss walking on solid ground in wilderness, nature, and the spectrums of light that aren’t available here at the 52nd parallel.

I miss my family and the easy-going parlance, atmosphere, humour, work ethic, and stoicism attributed to my generation, Generation X. My family needs me and that is reason to spend more time in the US.

Do you speak Dutch and how did you learn?
For me, Dutch doesn’t land. Sometimes I understand fragments or big bites and can make sense of them in context, but speaking Dutch, organising grammar and syntax, that is otherworldly for me.

I’ve tried apps, coaches, classes, and books. I hereby own my inequities and grasping Dutch in a big little village and university town where everyone speaks English isn’t one of them. I’m a poet. I’m communicating what’s in my soul in my mother tongue.

What’s your favourite Dutch thing?
Aspects of the culture. I appreciate that music, poetry, and arts are valued and actively supported in the Netherlands. This is most obvious by virtue of all the functioning theatres, museums, galleries, open mics, concerts, and cultural hubs. They’re pretty prolific.

On any given night of the week, there’s a creative arts event one can pursue as a creative, an artist, a producer, or a patron. I spend most of my time with spoken word poetry. I’m involved as a poet, a performer, a creative producer, a host, a curator, and a musician.

How Dutch have you become?
There are a few common Dutch phrases that I can execute like a Dutch person and I can ride a bicycle. That’s about it, but my goal isn’t to be Dutch or become Dutch. I’ve always wanted to be myself and wanted others to be themselves. While I’m genuinely interested in people, where they come from, their culture, their food, and their interests, I’m more interested in who people are and how they reflect and relate to their souls.

Which three Dutch people (dead or alive) would you most like to meet?
We’d surely need a time machine for this one, but I would journey to France to have tea with Johanna Bonger, Theo van Gogh, and Vincent van Gogh. Following the deaths of Theo and Vincent, Johanna had become a widow with a broken heart, a young son named after his uncle, and a collection of paintings that very few felt had any value. She had big decisions before her.

It’s because of Johanna’s belief and dedication that you, I, or anyone in the world knows about the late Dutch master’s body of work. I learned about all of this because of poetry. I worked on a collaboration at the Van Gogh Museum where I got to write and perform an original work to honour her. While researching what little information there is about her, I quickly realised her courage and focus.

If I could pick one more, it would the actor and painter Jeroen Krabbé so we could discuss art, theatre, and SAG union dues while listening to Golden Earring and Shocking Blue.

What’s your top tourist tip?
The biggest tip I could give them is to get a Museumkaart. Next to that, I would suggest they participate in the open mic scene to meet locals and other tourists, and enjoy the local arts community here.

Last month, we had two Americans from Colorado show up at an Unwanted Words event. They went straight there from the airport and that was their cure for jet lag. They even performed. It was amazing. So I would suggest tourists do that. It’s a great way to get into a local scene.

And a hidden gem I can suggest is Mosaic Affairs. It’s a Dutch and woman owned and operated studio that hosts workshops and luxury high tea. It’s inviting and cosy or, as the Dutch say, gezellig.

Tell us something surprising you’ve found out about the Netherlands
I was genuinely surprised when you move into a house or apartment that you have to install the floor and remove it when you leave. This is true for large appliances. From a North American perspective, this is highly unusual.

I say to my fellow North Americans that, should you move here, be prepared to build your new home from bare bones. You’ll need to buy a fridge, a stove, a washing machine, a floor, and ceiling fixtures. Even if you’re renting, you may have to build everything.

Second to that, for folks who use a wheelchair, medieval cities like Amsterdam require advanced planning to get around. This includes the use of mass transportation, so keep that in mind for folks who want to maintain their interdependence.

If you had just 24 hours left in the Netherlands, what would you do?
I would meet with my most intimate friends here, be present with them, and tell them how much I love and appreciate their friendship. We’d probably cry and I’d try to put them at ease. Then I’d stick them in a boat, row it down a canal, and have a picnic, weather contingent.

That’s the legacy that I’d want to leave here. I’d want people to remember me for my poetry, my swag, my humour, and my empathy.

Tuaca Kelly was talking to Brandon Hartley. To learn more about her work and projects, visit her website at tuacakelly.com.