Down in ‘Kampung Daniken’

Ever since I came here to South Limburg, I have been having this love-hate relationship with my neighbourhood. It is located at the furthest east end of the city of Geleen, bordering with the next town of Schinnen on one street, literally, (see map) and is right smack next to a rich nature area.

Whenever I would tell a new acquaintance of my place of residence, they, especially the nature lovers, would ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’, and marvel at the wonders that is my backyard. I was the envy of many who thought that access to a place like that meant heaven to me.

Yet, I was sorry to disappoint them as it took me a while to fully appreciate and understand the complexity of living in Daniken or what I like to call ‘Kampung Daniken’.

Daniken

‘Kampung Daniken’
‘Kampung’ means ‘village’ in Malay and my Dutch husband resents the name as he reckons there are far-flung out houses in other parts of Europe that are a lot more ‘godforsaken’ than Daniken but for a Singaporean city girl like me, it’s as close as it gets to a village, especially since it’s quite a distance from amenities like post office and supermarkets. We don’t even have a mailbox for our neighbourhood and the next nearest one is 2 km away.

By all accounts, I don’t mind living in a village – in fact, I spent the first 10 years of my life in one but it was a different type of village, where we knew our neighbours and we became almost like family. It took me more than five years to get to know all of my neighbours here and I reckon some of them still don’t know my full first name.

When I first came here, I felt like I had gone to another planet. I had come from a bustling busy city which never sleeps and where walking home was as safe at 2 a.m as during the day.

It was so quiet here during the day that I could have sworn I heard a pin drop a few times. The silence was deafening. To drown it out, I would always either have the television on, having found MTV and nothing English on the radio (yet). My first winters were spent indoors as the depressing weather numbed my navigational goals.

On grey, damp and dark days, walking here can get creepy sometimes

Grocery shopping was a nightmare as the nearest supermarket was at least 15 minutes away on bicycle and I don’t know how to drive so there was only so much groceries I could bring with me on the bicycle.

On days when I was incapacitated in some way, having no easy access to my daily supply of orange juice made me feel like I was living at the end of the earth. This was a far cry from my life in Singapore where the nearest grocery store could always be found on the ground floor level of any surrounding apartment block and regardless how sick I could get, I could always crawl my way to them. Try crawling to the supermarket here – I couldn’t get there in time even if I had skates on.

Reckless drivers
One might ask why I chose to live here. Well, first of all, I didn’t have a choice, so to speak. This was my husband’s childhood home and his family had first moved here in the 1950s when his father found work at the brick factory ‘Plinthos‘ just 200 metres away from the house. The factory has long closed down but a few years ago someone came up with a brilliant idea to revamp it to fit the burgeoning nature theme in the area, forever shattering the stillness and peace of the street.

Plinthos brick factory

The factory was a main source of employment during the pre and post-World War II years but like most other post-war industries, it became obsolete and eventually closed down. Since it holds a great amount of historical value to the city, it is a major place of interest and school excursions and history buffs alike started descending upon our little street here as if it was Disneyland. Whilst we are all for preserving history, it is safe to say that before Plinthos came up on the Geleen map as a significant place of interest, Daniken didn’t receive as much human traffic as it does now.

Somewhere too along the way, the motorists who pass by our street for whatever reason, also coincidentally discovered the shortcut they could make from one part of Geleen to the town of Puth. Technically, it would be easier to use the main roads (see map) but the impatient ones think speeding down our already narrow street here at 100 km/h would save them those precious 10 minutes of their day when they could just as easily run someone down. My husband used to spend his childhood in complete silence and utter isolation and he would be lucky to see one car a day pass by in Daniken but those days are long gone for sure.

Further alienating Daniken from the rest of the city is the infrastructure of the street itself. There are no pedestrian pavements to walk on (see photo) and walking down the street is a major balancing act between the cars coming from both opposite sides of the road, the other pedestrians and of course the cyclists, all of whom sometimes forget there are other people using the road.

Our stationwagen which takes up almost all of the street. This isn’t exactly a 2-motor street

It wasn’t so bad when I was not a mother yet as I only had myself to worry about but with a child in tow, it became a nightmare just trying to walk down the street. Most people are sympathetic but when my daughter outgrew the buggy and began walking on her own, it was a whole different challenge trying to keep her out of harm’s way.

I have seen parents in other neighbourhoods leisurely stroll next to their cycling toddlers but I don’t have the same luxury. I have to have both hands free and my eyes and ears open to any incoming traffic so I can easily and quickly get us out of the way if the cars get too close for comfort. After my daughter fell a second time off her bicycle as we were trying to avoid an incoming vehicle who didn’t seem to want to slow down upon seeing us, she refused to cycle again, at least on our street and I have agreed, for now, to put the bicycles away, at least for a while.

The Daniken woods
Living here is also kind of an oxymoron especially if you are a nature lover like me. This area is known for its rich nature – the famed ‘Daniken Bos’ is literally only five minutes away – and various walking paths meander through the dense woods some stretching as far out as the towns of Spaubeek and Puth.

Daniken woods

There are also a petting zoo and horse stables which delight animal-loving toddlers like my daughter. However, all these amenities cease to fulfill their purpose during the winter months when all of the paths leading to or crossing the woods are muddy and the weather is too wet, grey and cold for one to fully appreciate the rich greenery and enjoy being outdoors.

I wouldn’t even be sure if everything in the petting zoo, especially the playground, are dry enough for her to play in. Even the horses are kept indoors a lot to shield them from the cold – I wouldn’t think it would be any fun to ride them in the rain, for both the rider and the poor animal.

This muddy path has always been wet – it’s a little better on dry days
but your shoes will still get dirty anyway

Should I stay or should I go
Yet, when winter ends and the leaves start growing back, the richness of the greenery here reappears and I find myself changing my mind every time again about wanting to move.

It becomes possible to take the long walks through the woods without worrying about getting my shoes muddy and my daughter can chase the animals around the petting zoo without slipping in the wet sand and getting her clothes all dirty. The ducks come out in their droves to swim in the stream and the horses come out to prance on the street, sometimes leaving little ‘souvenirs’ behind.

The trees begin to actually wear the colour they should and I might even need my sunglasses each time I go out. Unfortunately for me, I and the whole of Limburg seem to want to go out all at the same time and my neighbourhood gets congested, with cyclists and motorists parking themselves at Plinthos to make their way into the woods.

The city council has relented to a Daniken neighbourhood petition and a 60 km/h speed limit is to be enforced on our street. Though it will help to curb the rude and inconsiderate motorists, I am acquainted with the people here well enough to know that it is no guarantee to a safer street to walk on.

I should probably just move but I have moved house once in my life and the traumatic experience is still vivid in my memory. As much as I possibly can avoid it, I do not want to relive it again, neither for myself nor for my daughter. In fact, who is to say that after all the work, I won’t have any problems with the new house!?!

Thus, I just have to deal and accept the present set of problems instead of running away from them. Like it or not, this has become my home and the place where I raise my daughter and have built a life with my husband. I won’t ever get used to the winters here but despite of everything, at the end of the day, having a roof over my head beats out all the other problems I think I may or may not have.

Walking trail

At least, I can always look forward to the summers when the nature makes everything so glorious that you don’t really have to go anywhere to enjoy the season.

Yes, my neighbourhood will probably still be busy with other like-minded people and I will still have to keep an eagle eye out on the road but unlike during the short days of winter, I will at least have more time to appreciate my neighbourhood.

Days when it’s warm and sunny are also best spent just staying at home, reading a book in my backyard whilst my daughter plays in her makeshift swimming pool.

Sure, it would be even better to read a book in a backyard in Provence or Tuscany and swim in the Mediterranean, and though they are on my travel list, until I get there, Daniken will do just fine.

Text and photographs by Musliha Ajmain

Daniken

Musliha Ajmain is a Singaporean mother of one married to a Dutch native and presently residing in South Limburg.