MY MOTU SAILING LOG
Menu
Back to work in the Netherlands
← Back to all blogs

LOGBOOK · PERSONAL

Back to work in the Netherlands

Moving to a new practice feels a bit like entering unfamiliar territory. It is exciting, unpredictable and full of surprises. As I wrote before, I am saying goodbye to a familiar environment where I have built a deep bond with my clients for years. But…

11 December 2024 · Aagje van den Heuvel

Moving to a new practice feels a bit like entering unfamiliar territory. It is exciting, unpredictable and full of surprises. As I wrote before, I am saying goodbye to a familiar environment where I have built a deep bond with my clients for years. But what I had not expected was how different it would be to temporarily step into a village practice where clients initially not only found me unfamiliar, but were sometimes even a bit wary.

It was the first time that I noticed clients greeted me with such reservations during a substitute position. Could it be because it concerns a small, close-knit community? In larger practices in cities such as Utrecht and Amersfoort, I am used to a different kind of dynamic. But here, in a village, my arrival seems to raise more questions.

Imagine: you have built up years of trust with your regular dental hygienist, who has now become a permanent part of your life, and then I enter the treatment room as a new presence, with my 1.90 meters, fresh approach and a smile. I get it. Change is exciting, and sometimes a little scary.

In addition, the permanent dental hygienist, like me, shares a passion for travelling and, therefore, regularly takes long-term leave. This time, I have been asked to fill her place temporarily, but the clients seem to think: “Why suddenly a replacement?” That unspoken question hangs in the air, palpable in their eyes.

What clients often do not realize how much pressure a colleague’s temporary loss can put on a practice team. A temporary replacement can make a world of difference, not only for the practice but also for the clients themselves. My goal is simple: to offer continuity so that clients’ oral health is not compromised.

Although those first meetings are sometimes tense, that usually changes once they are in the treatment chair. I calmly introduce myself, explain what I am going to do, and lead the conversation to everyday topics. While I am working above their heads, I slowly see the tension disappear from their shoulders. The best moment? When they thanked me with a smile afterwards. Then I knew: I am building that bond here too—step by step, client by client.

But sometimes, something happens that takes you completely out of your routine, something that puts everything into perspective. While I am still trying to find my place in the practice, the most heartbreaking news reaches us. It feels like the world has stopped turning for a moment.

A colleague and her husband were told the unthinkable during a routine check-up at the hospital: their baby’s heart had stopped beating. In that moment of silence, drenched in sadness, everything around us seems to stand still. Tears burn in our eyes, and a deep shiver runs through the room. How do you find words for an incomparable pain?

This sad news affects not only them, but also us as a team. It makes it clear once again how important it is to be there for each other, in good times and bad. As I continue my work, I feel that my role goes beyond just performing treatments. It is also my job to be a source of calm in difficult times, not only for the clients, but also for my colleagues.

Working in a village practice is different and more intense, and perhaps that is why it feels richer. Every day, I get to know not only my clients better but also myself. In the end, it is all about connection, and that starts with listening, understanding, and being there.

While I am finding my way in the Netherlands, Jeroen and Rajesh are doing well. They spent the past few weeks in Tikehau, Apataki, and arrived in Fakarava a few days ago. They will stay there until the new year, surrounded by the peaceful beauty of the Tuamotu atolls. It is nice to know that they are doing well, but at the same time, it sometimes feels double for me.

Here in the Netherlands I enjoy the little things: a cup of coffee with an old friend, a spontaneous walk with family, or just the familiar sounds, treats and smells of home. These moments are a warm reminder of how important connection is. Yet it is now becoming even more clear to me how vulnerable that connection can be when you are far away. No matter how much you try to stay in touch, thousands of miles away, the closeness slowly fades. That realization can be painful.

Everyone’s life goes on, and when you’re on a boat in a remote lagoon, you experience those important moments – a birth, a marriage, a loss – in a different way. Of course, there are bonds that are indestructible, relationships that stand the test of time and distance. But the joy of celebrating together, or the comfort of grieving together, feels different from a distance.

Maybe that’s why I now enjoy the moments that I can spend together to the fullest. A smile, a hug, or simply being together, those are the things that really touch me now. These are memories that I will take with me when I return to Jeroen and Rajesh. Because whether I’m here or far away on the ocean, it’s that connection with the people I care about that inspires me time and time again.

✨ Warm Christmas wishes to you and your loved ones! ✨
That this holiday season be filled with warmth, love, and cherished moments. Wishing you a joyful Christmas and a sparkling New Year!

MESSAGES ON BOARD

Leave a message

Share a thought, question or greeting. Aagje reads every comment before it appears here.

Loading comments…