Holland vs. Netherlands

I'm not always tracking visitors to this site, but when I do, I'm always a little surprised by the number of Dutch visitors we have.  Perhaps it's my last name (Maas), or maybe it's something else entirely, but either way, I'm always happy to have visitors from the Netherlands.  As I've noticed such a strong interest from that part of the world, tidbits of news pertaining to that nation now more frequently catch my eye.

That's why today, I'd like to share with you, the following video, produced by Grey Explains, that a fellow teacher recently shared with me.  It explains the difference between Holland and the Netherlands (terms that most here in the United States use interchangeably).

A quick warning though, I get the feeling that the producer, while trying to explain things, also likes a small amount of joy in making things seem a little more complicated than they really are by talking fast and quickly displaying pictures, so feel free to pause the video or rewind a time or two.

Also, for those who are interested, I would from time-to-time, show an earlier video he produced explaining the difference between England, Great Britain, and the United Kingdom (a subject that more of my students have always had difficulty understanding).  A second warning: this one moves more quickly than the Dutch one:

The Country that Slept an Entire Day

For those who have lived in the Pacific, there's something the locals call "island time."  It's that feeling of tranquility when you forget what day it is.

Usually, this only affects a individuals, but for the entire island country of Samoa, they're going to go to bed on December 29 and wake up December 31!  That's right, the entire country is skipping December 30th, 2011.

Why, you ask?  Well, they've decided to switch to the other side of the international dateline.  Back in 1892, the country which was originally located on the eastern side of the dateline, decided to align itself more closely with the United States, so the entire nation celebrated July 4, 1892, twice, placing itself on the western side of the line.

The area in red will skip December 30 to flip to the eastern side of the dateline.

Why the change?  Well, these days Samoa now does much more trade with China, Australia and New Zealand than it does with the US and more of its tourists come from the Eastern Pacific now, so it only made sense.

Understandably, anytime you lose a day, you're going to make some people mad, so the government of Samoa decided to sweeten the deal, by declaring that employers will still need to pay workers for the Friday that never happened and that banks will be prohibited from charging an extra day's interest.  Can Samoa handle it?  I'm sure it can.  The nation is no stranger to major change.  Two years ago, they switched from driving on the left side to the right side of the road.

My recommendation is that our government follow Samoa's lead and forgo a day as well next year.  Might I suggest skipping April 15?  Anyone with me?

Dutch Mountaineering

The title of this post may sound like an oxymoron as the highest point in the Netherlands (at least the European part of the colonial empire), Vaalserberg, is a small rise of 1,059 feet.  To put this in perspective, I'd like to inform my readers that there are higher hills in my hometown and we're a 10 minute drive to the beach.

Last month, a Dutch journalist and cyclist, Thijs Zonneveld made the humorous suggestion that the nation build a 1k mountain.  He said, tongue-in-cheek, that it would only take €300 billion and maybe 30 years to build.

Well, proposals for the hypothetical mountain (dubbed Die Berg Komt Er, or the Mountain Comes) have now been drafted by a tiny architectural firm of Hoffers and Kruger.  The idea has also gained backing from the Dutch Cycling Union, the Dutch Climbing and Mountaineering Association, and the Dutch Ski Association.

Well, it's certainly an ambitious proposal – building a mountain that might cost half of the country's GDP for a few sporting events.  I guess their next big hurdle will be to find a location to put it.

Wagah Border Crossing

Borders are inherently funny.  Many times, they're like what my sister used to do on long car trips, when she'd run her hand down a shared car seat and tell my brother and I that we were not to cross some kind of imaginary line she'd created.

Earlier this year, Coca-Cola had a very cute commercial spoofing the same kind of behavior between two imaginary nations.  If you haven't seen it, you can watch it HERE.

Sometimes even real borders have a certain funniness to them.  For example, the Peace Arch at the US-Canadian border between Washington State and British Columbia.  The road goes around the arch instead of through it and the gates inside the arch are immovably affixed to the interior walls.  Symbolic of course.  Then you get to a real gate with barricades, guards, guns and stuff.

One of the funniest borders I've ever seen is the Four Corners Monument which lies in the middle of Navajo land at the intersection of Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico.  There's a raised platform where the spot is marked.  The whole area is surrounded by Indian trinket vendor booths selling turquoise jewelry and arrowheads.  In the center, there are mostly white folks contorting and prostrating themselves to to have the honor of being able to tell people that they were in four states at the same time.  If I were an Indian I'd be constantly asking myself, "How did we ever lose to these people?"

Then of course there are the less funny borders.  Like the Berlin Wall.

The photo above is from the tank standoff in October 1961 between the Soviet and American forces.  Curiously, it all began over a dispute regarding an American diplomat wanting to see an opera in East Berlin.  Seriously.

Of course there are still plenty of unfunny borders around today, like the Korean border.

However, today I want to show you one border that I think takes the cake for humor – the Wagah Border Crossing between India and Pakistan.  For two nuclear rivals, you couldn't envision a more humorous scene. The village of Wagah was divided between the two nations in 1947 and since 1959, they've had a flag lowering ceremony at the closing of the gate each night at about 5 pm.  It's become so popular that they've built grandstands on both sides of the borders as the rival militaries try to outdo each other in displays of military bravado.  It must be watched to be fully appreciated:

Cerro Romauldo Hike

On Saturday, I told you I'd provide some photos of the hike up Cerro Romauldo.  Our town is a few miles from the ocean, but there's a chain of volcanic hills between us and the beach.  We received permission from the California National Guard to hike on their property, since Cerro Romauldo is on a military base.

(Starting up the trail)

(View from part way up showing chain of hills to the ocean)

(Final ascent, looking towards our town, Cerro Romauldo on extreme left)

(Some of my scouts at the summit)

(My son Tim and me on the summit)

(View from the top looking northwest towards the Pacific)

(View from the top looking southeast towards San Luis Obispo)

Low and Burbank's Grant, New Hampshire

I'm still liking the little traffic feed guest book at the bottom of the right column.  I was going to write about something else, but when I checked in, I noticed something unusual, a visitor from Low and Burbank's Grant, New Hampshire.  What an intriguing place name!  I just had to look it up.

(Screenshot from my phone)

It turns out that Low and Burbank's Grant is actually a township way up in Coos County.  As I didn't know much about the place, I was surprised to see that Wikipedia cites the 2000 Census as providing a population zero for this 26.1 square mile piece of land.  Clearly today the population was at least 1.  Looking at the map, it appears that part of Low and Burbank's Grant might lie along the Appalachian Trail, so maybe someone found the blog while resting at a cabin.  If so, I'm jealous.  I wish I were out hiking the trail.

Frequently while I'm researching stuff on the Internet, I come across other fun things.  While checking out the history of Coos County, I also came across a reference to the Republic of Indian Stream, something of which I was completely unfamiliar.  Apparently, the settlers in these parts had a short lived micro nation of their own between 1832 and 1835 which arose when the United States and Great Britain couldn't agree on the boundary and both sides decided to tax the area.

I'm also noticing we're getting more and more international traffic to the blog.  Welcome!  Nice to have you visit.

Kinky Colorado

Colorado is typically considered a pretty square state (or at least rectangular), but upon reading some geography blog postings today (yes, there are those blogs), it turns out Colorado is rather kinky!

If you use Google Maps and journey around the border, you'll discover a bunch of kinks in the boundary line.  See one of many examples below...

The strange thing is there's actually a pretty major kink that wanders about 1.5 miles about 80 miles north of Four Corners between Utah and Colorado just south of the town of Paradox, Colorado.  See below...

So how did it happen?  In 1879, a survey was conducted to set the boundary and surveyors journeyed north from Four Corners placing mile markers along the way, when they got to the Wyoming border, they discovered that they were about a mile west of where they expected to be.  Unfortunately, by the time it was discovered where the errors lay, the ground boundaries had already been accepted by the various states, territories, and congress, so the error was fixed.

In reality Colorado is actually a polygon.  Go figure!

Remnants of New France

Thanks to El for checking in from 55.92340728 miles north of Montreal!  And thanks also for the laugh.  I'm glad the trick worked in French.


As an aside for those who have been following the blog, perhaps you have tried the math magic trick.  Virgil has offered a good and easy solution for my zero/nine issue.  He suggested that you just tell the your audience to pick any number but zero as it has no value.  Therefore, if your addition comes to a multiple of nine (and if your audience hasn't picked zero), the number chosen has to be nine.  Thanks for the tip!

Hearing from El and thinking about funny geography (New Mexico/South Dakota overlap) got me thinking of yet another odd geographical anomaly.

(New France at its greatest extent)

At one time the Kingdom of France claimed a sizable chunk of North America.  Of course, the French and Indian War (or Seven Years War) ruined the dream of a greater New France.  The 1763 Treaty of Paris resulted in a massive territorial swap with Great Britain being the obvious winner.  Pretty much England got back everything that was taken (the Island of Minorca in the Mediterranean and trading posts in Sumatra).  But in addition to getting those back, England also kept much of what it conquered and some other lands.

Here's a list of what England got:

Almost all of French Canada and the islands of: Dominica, Grenada, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, Tobago, and all of French Louisiana east of the Mississippi River.  It also picked up Florida from Spain (a French ally).

(North America after the Treaty of Paris)

You may have noticed that I said England got "almost all" of French Canada.  In the Treaty, France was allowed to keep two tiny North American islands:  St. Pierre and Miquelon (actually eight islands if you include the really tiny ones around these two), for the purpose of drying fishing nets.

This reduced the geographic area of New France from half a continent to 93.4 square miles!

Over the next few years, the islands traded hands a few more times eventually landing back in French control.

Fast forward to World War II.  When France fell to Germany, St. Pierre and Miquelon fell under Vichy rule.  Since the Vichy French were allied with Nazi Germany, Canada considered an invasion of the islands.  However, before the plan could be undertaken (and without the knowledge of Canada or the US), de Gaulle dispatched a Free French flotilla (led by the submarine cruiser "Surcouf") to capture the territory (those interested in naval history should definitely read up on the Surcouf).

(Stamp commemorating the 20th anniversary of the invasion)

And before someone can say that I've lost my head talking about geographic anomalies, I should add that the only time the guillotine was used in North America was on the island of St. Pierre in 1889 to execute a murderer!

(Now safe in a museum)

Really?

Being a history teacher, I'm often thinking of geography.  In our parking lot at school today, there was a rather noisy Harley idling for quite a while and I started thinking about Sturgis, South Dakota.

For those that don't know, Sturgis is the site of one of the world's largest annual motorcycle rallies.  Just curious, I read up on Sturgis and this funny bit of geographical trivia kind of jumped off the page:

Did you know that the town of Clovis, New Mexico, is further east than Sturgis, South Dakota?

When I first read this, I actually had to take a quick look at a map.

What’s Up In Old Kantuck

I have a confession to make.  Not only do I like old photos, I am also fascinated with old maps (and historical family feuds, nineteenth century humorists, natural disasters, and the Civil War – all of which will come up in this article).  As a child, one year I asked for a giant map of the world for Christmas.  Many evenings I would fall asleep while staring at distant places and unusual names.  I became quite curious why some borders had been created in certain places and what history had caused the lines to be drawn how they were.

One of the things that fascinates me no end are geographical anomalies.  Europe is great for these – having so many historic principalities, so many wars, and so many changes over the years.  It doesn’t take long to notice odd little enclaves or unusual lines.  America is not exempt from our own anomalies.

One of my favorite geographic curiosities is the Kentucky Bend.  A little 17.5 square mile bulb of Kentucky that is completely cut off from the parent state and entirely surrounded by Missouri and Tennessee.  It was created when the original surveyors wrongly estimated where the Tennessee/Kentucky boundary line would reach the Mississippi River.  Missouri was given all the land on the trans-Mississippi side and the surveyors didn’t figure on encountering a large oxbow loop on the cis-Mississippi side.  They didn’t realize there would be a giant looping bend and wrote that the boundary for Kentucky should lie at the westernmost point that the line touched the Mississippi River.

So how did these guys miss the loop?  Back in 1811/12, there was a series of earthquakes collectively called the New Madrid Earthquake that originated right near the Bend.  Modern sizemologists estimate the largest of these was perhaps an 8.0!  The quake was felt in New York and Connecticut and was so powerful that it changed the course the Mississippi and even caused the river to flow backwards for a few days.  At the time of the surveying, people hadn’t ventured all the way to that particular part of the river to see the bend for themselves and the enclave was created by an accident of nature.

In 1862, the Battle of Island Number Ten took place on an island in middle of the Mississippi River just east of the Bend.  The Yankees were trying to move ironclads down the river and the Southerners had placed defenses at this strategic choke point.  Confederate forces had chosen a wonderfully defensible position, nearly impervious to shelling and ground assault, the only drawback being that the Confederate garrison could only be supplied via a solitary road back to Tennessee.  When the Federal forces captured this road, the defenders were completely cut off from resupply.

To this day, this part of Kentucky can only be reached via Tennessee State Route 22 and postal mail is addressed to Tiptonville, Tennessee.  Tennessee originally contested giving the bend to Kentucky, but had relented by 1848.  The odd nature of this area didn’t escape Mark Twain’s notice either as he gave fleeting mention to the Bend in his book, “Life on the Mississippi,” in which he describes a 60 year-old feud between two Bend area families, the Watsons and the Darnells, and their church at a landing called Compromise built half in Kentucky and half in Tennessee.

What a wacky little piece of property!