my roots

I am slowly starting to think about the subject matter of my upcoming economy series. And why not start close to home. The building in the middle is a castle. My father was born just outside the castle walls. So that would be the small building closest to the castle, or any of the three farms a little further out, or a farm that isn't there anymore. I think that would be our safest bet.

Update: I wasn't looking very well. There is a loud and clear picture of my father's farm, this is very awesome.

They were poor farmers, like all farmers at that time in this part of Holland. They were catholics, and catholics used to divide their farms among all of their sons, which made the farms and the farmlands smaller and smaller. (In the sixties they started to reverse this process, that is why the patches of farmland are not so small anymore in the picture, which is a great pity for the landscape btw) This unlike the protestants in the North, where the oldest son would be the sole heir to the farm. Which kept the farms big and rich and prosperous. My father was the youngest of eleven. All of his sisters except one became nuns. I would have certainly been a nun too, had I been born a generation ago. Nuns got an education, and they didn't have to go through fifteen pregnancies. But every good catholic family also needs a priest. And my father was the lucky one. He kept it up until after graduating from the seminary, so when he kissed priesthood goodbye and moved to the big city, he had a diploma. Smart move. From a poor country boy with no shoes, he made it to accountant with Philips. And that is more or less what my series is going to be about, stories like this from all around the world.

Posted by eliane at May 16, 2008 10:42 PM