# Dutch Jail is like an American Hotel



## the homeless romantic (Feb 10, 2016)

*I AM AN AMERICAN…*
I recently went to jail in Holland for shoplifting. During my short time dealing with the legal system and the people of the country, I quickly realized many distinct differences between our countries. I arrived in Utrecht, Netherlands with high hopes of meeting friendly people, and I was not disappointed. Coming from Germany where I had been living for the past four months, I was longing for the warmth of the English language, and I don’t think I have been smiled at by so many strangers in all of my life. We took scenic bike tours, boat tours, couch surfed, and got hour-long, full-body Chinese massages, none of which topped the experience I was about to have.

My girlfriend and I woke up early and hit the streets looking for some excitement. While walking around, causing general mayhem, I had the idea that I needed a new pair of pants, but not just pants, “Good ones!” I proclaimed. After several attempts, we found a store to service my needs. A middle aged, flamboyant fat man in glasses greeted me with a slight snarl and a look in his eyes to question my purpose in his store. “Can I help you?” he muttered as if I had just walked in on him on the toilet, pinching off an embarrassing loaf. I casually made my selections and was off to the dressing room. After working my magic behind the velvet curtain—violently cramming the pants and a shirt deep inside my backpack with the hangars still on them, making an irregular and quite noticeable bulge in the bag—we went through the front doors and out into the street. About fifty feet into the intersection the shopkeeper came running out of the door screaming, “I’M MISSING A SHIRT!!! I’M MISSING A SHIRT!!”. Confronted and with nothing to say in my defense, he demanded I open the bag. After a series of cat and mouse games, I opened the bag and the clothes just shot out. Before I could react, he had me tight by the sleeve of my jacket. I shoved the backpack to my girlfriend and whispered “Run.” At this time, in my peripheral vision, a mass of on-lookers and heroes had congregated all around and as I was dragged back into the store the man shouted “Call the police!!”. Thinking critically and using my general knowledge about police, I decided quickly I was NOT interested into talking to them. I unzipped my coat and ran for the door. A bit too eager and excited, I lost control of my legs as I exited to the street and fell face first and skidded across the crosswalk. I got up and ran about a car’s length, then noticed my hat had fallen off during my escape. I actually turned around and ran straight at the shop owner, the store, and the concerned mob of good Dutch citizens. In basketball they call this maneuver “breaking someone’s ankles”. I ducked around this giant, angry, yet lovable fat man, scooped my hat off the ground and jumped over a convoy of bicycles, contributing their own brand of non-violent vigilante justice.

And I ran, and brother, did I run. There was only one guy who actually gave chase. When I looked back, and heard him shouting, what must have been “THIEF!” in Dutch, over and over. I had forgotten how fast I was since grade school, still got it, yeah. I ran twenty blocks until my stomach was hard as stone and I couldn’t breathe. So I hid, briefly contemplated jumping over a brick wall into a front yard, but before I could make a move around the corner, the guy chasing me was now waddling, confused, down the street staring into his neon green smart phone. I saw him before he saw me but when he did, he says “YOU!!”. I told him to forget about it, he shook his head no, I said “Well….come on then, let’s do it!”. We were off again, running through crowded restaurant patios, me throwing garbage in his path, and waiting for a car to come and then running across the street. Eventually, being completely lost, we ran into one of the many beautiful and scenic canals that the Netherlands have to offer. Trapped between this good samaritan and sewage filled canal, I knew he wouldn’t jump in, on account of that neon green smart phone, so I did what any crazed American that has seen too many movies would do, I jumped in! The water was freezing and smelled like a combination of wet dog and corpse. I paddled, wheezing out-loud and feeling the blood pulsate up my spine into my head. I made it to the other side. Exhausted, I pulled my body ashore and ran another three blocks and jumped in a front yard. I was soaking wet, praying for the sun, examining my new wounds, and feeling the adrenaline corse through me. Steam would rise above my drying clothes when the sun passed over my hiding spot. I thought maybe I would actually get away, but then the overcast came and I knew that if I sat here I might die of hypothermia. So I walked and reintegrated myself back into society as if nothing had happened. Just a regular guy, covered in mysterious wounds, soaking wet, and looking for his hostel. I didn’t get too far… maybe ten blocks when a police officer on a bicycle came up behind me, looked me from top to bottom and said, “I think we’re looking for you!”. At this point, I surrendered, the chase was over, I was badly wounded and I was ready for whatever was next. Two younger cops came, while me and the other bike cop waited on the street corner. They asked me before I got in their car, “Do we need to handcuff you?”. I was shocked, where I am from I’m sure this isn’t an option. “No…” I replied and from there we were on our way to Dutch jail. I should have started by stating: I have never been to jail before, in any country, but I have spoken to plenty of police in America and Mexico in my life. Every law enforcement official I encountered during my stay in Utrecht was so surprisingly humane and friendly. I felt obligated to express to them how glad I was that I was not in America. They all replied the same, agreeably saying “You’d be screwed and if you were black they would shoot you, you know about Ferguson?”. I nodded, “We have more people in prison than any other country”. We exchanged statistics and information as I was given a change of dry clothes, a warm cup of tea, and escorted to a holding cell. Usually for this crime, I was told, that I could spend two weeks in jail and then be deported OR pay a fine and be out by the morning. When I heard this, I promptly paid the €450 fine. I was then informed by my court appointed legal defense that there is still a possibility of them escorting me to my resident country of Germany and they would most likely deport me. Either way, I was to be leaving Holland as soon I was released. So the time came and, I’m assuming because of my cooperation, they had decided to discharge me and drive me to the train station. After a little convincing, the 20 year-old cops driving me to the station let me stop by the hostel and grab my stuff, dropped me off and told me to stay out of trouble and don’t forget to leave the Netherlands. So, why was this such a pleasant shock for me, with my American education of what jail is supposed to be? Is it possible that American’s live in a state of fear because of the excessive force and psychological torture of the police? The military industrial complex is encouraging the sale of any weapons to anyone for any reason, not just combat zones, but huge surpluses of military equipment come back from Iraq and Afghanistan and with nothing to do with them, they naturally are given to police departments all over the country. This puts a clear thought in the heads of civilians and police, that we need these over-sized guns because things aren’t okay, creating tension, when in reality it’s just the excess runoff and breakage from a disgusting industry. There are many problems with American culture and I fear we will see more police brutality and racism before we see less, and my experience in Utrecht was the first true testament to myself that, we as Americans, are doing it very, very wrong.


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## Dmac (Feb 12, 2016)

Nice story. was the shirt worth it?


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## Deleted member 125 (Feb 15, 2016)

ive heard simlilar things about europes jail systems, i even watched a documentary on i think sweeden's prison system and it looks like a 4 star hotel int he u.s they even had tennis...ive never had tennis in jail here.


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## Dmac (Feb 15, 2016)

Only basketball


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## kecleon (Feb 17, 2016)

I have also been to jail in holland and wouldn't call it a hotel. Yeah they have magazines and TV which is more than jail (not prison) in other EU countries but it's still pretty crappy. The best thing is the processing time, in most other countries they seem to keep you as long as possible to be dicks/teach you a lesson. Holland its like 3 hours you're out. I'd say it's like really shitty hostel but with your own room level of nice with the bonus of being locked in the room the whole time. I'd rather sleep outside than in there.

Also all these things about European prisons being like hotels it's far from true. UK prison is shit with overcrowding and dirty dilapidated old leaky cold buildings where you're in your cell 23 hours of the day with harsh restrictions on visitors insanely expensive phone calls and barely any opportunity to make them. I know people in Swedish prison and its no song and dance either, the ones on the news and that you read about are like the exception not the rule. Also in America you have nice prisons where you lock up rich people. One nice prison doesn't show the whole system and probably houses less than 1% of prisoners in these nice prisons.

Prison should be nice because 1 in 10 people in there are literally innocent or just on remand with nothing proven against them and 97% of people in there shouldn't be. But its not its shitty most places.

I know you're saying it like as a positive and jail rather than prison, but people who go around saying prison in Europe is like a hotel is doing a diservice to people locked up in them because its not really true and most countries have no interest in making it true just showing off their one or two nicest prisons and ignore all the other ones.


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## Deleted member 125 (Feb 17, 2016)

jimyf said:


> I have also been to jail in holland and wouldn't call it a hotel. Yeah they have magazines and TV which is more than jail (not prison) in other EU countries but it's still pretty crappy. The best thing is the processing time, in most other countries they seem to keep you as long as possible to be dicks/teach you a lesson. Holland its like 3 hours you're out. I'd say it's like really shitty hostel but with your own room level of nice with the bonus of being locked in the room the whole time. I'd rather sleep outside than in there.
> 
> Also all these things about European prisons being like hotels it's far from true. UK prison is shit with overcrowding and dirty dilapidated old leaky cold buildings where you're in your cell 23 hours of the day with harsh restrictions on visitors insanely expensive phone calls and barely any opportunity to make them. I know people in Swedish prison and its no song and dance either, the ones on the news and that you read about are like the exception not the rule. Also in America you have nice prisons where you lock up rich people. One nice prison doesn't show the whole system and probably houses less than 1% of prisoners in these nice prisons.
> 
> ...



didnt mean any offense saying it was like a hotel, just a metaphor from what ive seen of them compared to the states they seem a bit more humane. maybe its just my opinion as a american whos never been to europe, but it seems things are just a bit nicer there compared to here. jails and prisons included but of course i could be completly wrong.


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## kecleon (Feb 17, 2016)

Nah man reading that back I come across a bit of a dick, i didn't mean it like against you or anyone else. On tv american prisons look shit because of all the prison gangs, but thats tv I dunno how much of that is true. If it's how it's portrayed it's probably worse than European jails but because of the other people not the actual prisons. 

I don't think the police or prison officers are much better anyplace than anyplace else.


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## the homeless romantic (Feb 20, 2016)

charmander said:


> Nah man reading that back I come across a bit of a dick, i didn't mean it like against you or anyone else. On tv american prisons look shit because of all the prison gangs, but thats tv I dunno how much of that is true. If it's how it's portrayed it's probably worse than European jails but because of the other people not the actual prisons.
> 
> I don't think the police or prison officers are much better anyplace than anyplace else.


 I would say making assumptions about things you don't have experience in, without saying, "i think " first makes you an idiot, sorry


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## the homeless romantic (Feb 20, 2016)

dmac66 said:


> Nice story. was the shirt worth it?


You have to punch in the formula, did all other heists before equal out to the fee and time spent inside, yeah, plus i got a story outta the deal, wasn't really desperate for clothes, just excitement.


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## kecleon (Feb 20, 2016)

the homeless romantic said:


> I would say making assumptions about things you don't have experience in, without saying, "i think " first makes you an idiot, sorry


 You mean making assumptions about things _ you think _ I don't have experience in though.. Right? 

Eyeroll man.


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## the homeless romantic (Feb 20, 2016)

charmander said:


> You mean making assumptions about things _ you think _ I don't have experience in though.. Right?
> 
> Eyeroll man.


hey i'm just fucking with you, i dont care, either way jail is not fun...


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## the homeless romantic (Feb 20, 2016)

cantcureherpes said:


> ive heard simlilar things about europes jail systems, i even watched a documentary on i think sweeden's prison system and it looks like a 4 star hotel int he u.s they even had tennis...ive never had tennis in jail here.


id love to play me some tennis in the can


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## Mankini (Feb 26, 2016)

finnish copz are alright. saw em give a tenner to a group of winos outside a convenience store, as a bribe to get lost! then one picked up my shihtzu and played with her while the other one told me where i could squat for the night. the squat turned out to be an elementary school with hotel attached...so in the morning the front desk girls offered me continental bfast. all in all, finland. yeah. theyve only killed one person in the past 20 years. only 0.0001% of their pop is in jail. these scandihoovians are doin somethin right.


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## murdock1110 (Mar 22, 2016)

the homeless romantic said:


> *I AM AN AMERICAN…*
> I recently went to jail in Holland for shoplifting. During my short time dealing with the legal system and the people of the country, I quickly realized many distinct differences between our countries. I arrived in Utrecht, Netherlands with high hopes of meeting friendly people, and I was not disappointed. Coming from Germany where I had been living for the past four months, I was longing for the warmth of the English language, and I don’t think I have been smiled at by so many strangers in all of my life. We took scenic bike tours, boat tours, couch surfed, and got hour-long, full-body Chinese massages, none of which topped the experience I was about to have.
> 
> My girlfriend and I woke up early and hit the streets looking for some excitement. While walking around, causing general mayhem, I had the idea that I needed a new pair of pants, but not just pants, “Good ones!” I proclaimed. After several attempts, we found a store to service my needs. A middle aged, flamboyant fat man in glasses greeted me with a slight snarl and a look in his eyes to question my purpose in his store. “Can I help you?” he muttered as if I had just walked in on him on the toilet, pinching off an embarrassing loaf. I casually made my selections and was off to the dressing room. After working my magic behind the velvet curtain—violently cramming the pants and a shirt deep inside my backpack with the hangars still on them, making an irregular and quite noticeable bulge in the bag—we went through the front doors and out into the street. About fifty feet into the intersection the shopkeeper came running out of the door screaming, “I’M MISSING A SHIRT!!! I’M MISSING A SHIRT!!”. Confronted and with nothing to say in my defense, he demanded I open the bag. After a series of cat and mouse games, I opened the bag and the clothes just shot out. Before I could react, he had me tight by the sleeve of my jacket. I shoved the backpack to my girlfriend and whispered “Run.” At this time, in my peripheral vision, a mass of on-lookers and heroes had congregated all around and as I was dragged back into the store the man shouted “Call the police!!”. Thinking critically and using my general knowledge about police, I decided quickly I was NOT interested into talking to them. I unzipped my coat and ran for the door. A bit too eager and excited, I lost control of my legs as I exited to the street and fell face first and skidded across the crosswalk. I got up and ran about a car’s length, then noticed my hat had fallen off during my escape. I actually turned around and ran straight at the shop owner, the store, and the concerned mob of good Dutch citizens. In basketball they call this maneuver “breaking someone’s ankles”. I ducked around this giant, angry, yet lovable fat man, scooped my hat off the ground and jumped over a convoy of bicycles, contributing their own brand of non-violent vigilante justice.
> ...


Great story man wish I could have been there to watch you jump in the canal good luck to you and all who travel with!


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