What to do when someone screams, “Cancer sufferer!” at you in the street

Dutch swearing takes a bit of getting used to.

Photo by Harry Grout on Unsplash

Warning: There is a fair amount of swearing in this piece. Really pretty inventive cussing. If that doesn’t appeal, I strongly suggest that you avoid this article like you would Aggro Uncle Alan at Christmas. If you’re happy to proceed then there’s also an audio version (narrated by me) below in which I attempt to pronounce some Dutch curses. It’s worth a listen:

Swearing and insult-calling can be an art form. Any episode of BBC political comedy The Thick of It proves that. (Best line: “You’re not a grandee, you’re a fucking bland-ee. No one knew what the fuck you stood for, political fucking mist, no substance, no weight. You have all the charm of a rotting teddy bear by a graveside.”) A really brilliant cuss can elevate the insult-giver into an artist and diminish the insulted into a fool. The British are experts at it. And yet, swearing effectively is all about context. We swear to insult, to exclaim, to intensify what we want to say, or for humour, but its success is always dependent on the audience. It’s one thing to greet your pals with, “Hey hey, motherfuckers”, but quite another to greet your in-laws or colleagues that way. (Unless you’re Succession’s Roman Roy, of course.) 

Nowadays, English-language swearing mainly revolves around sex and bodily functions. (Religion used to play a big part – “damn”, “Oh my God”, “Jesus Christ”, etc. – but as the role of the church receded in public life so did the impact of spiritual-related expletives.) This makes sense when you consider that swearing is usually based around giving voice to social taboos. At least it is in England. Not so much in the Netherlands. 

No, instead of sloshing around in excrement or filthy sex when looking for a good swear, my newly adopted home country turns to diseases. That’s right, typhoid kids, I’m as serious as a heart attack.  

Do you have polio?

When cursed at by a Dutchie, you might be told to “tyf op” (typhoid off), called a “tyfuslul” (typhoid dick), “teringwijf” (tuberculosis wife), or “klerelijer” (cholera sufferer). Someone might wish that you “krijg de tering” (get tuberculosis), pronounce you a “pokketeef” (poxy bitch) or ask “heb je soms polio?” (do you have polio?). The fact that these illnesses are mostly extinct make them seem quite funny and less threatening somehow... 

But then there are the curses about ‘kanker’ (cancer). 

Not only is this disease alive and well, (trust me, I’ve just had it), but the hard ‘k’ noises ramp up the aggression factor considerably. Imagine the scene: there you are, strolling along a lush forest path with your partner and baby, humming a merry tune, when a woman jogs past and screams, “Kanker! Kankerlijer! [cancer sufferer]”. 

This exact thing happened to me. AND I ACTUALLY HAD CANCER AT THE TIME.  

But I am a kankerlijer

Not knowing about kanker swear words then, but being mid-way through chemotherapy for bowel cancer, I obviously wondered how on earth this woman knew. Was I giving off some kind of cancer vibe? A scent? Was she like one of those animals that can sniff out diseases? I checked and I wasn’t even wearing my “Piss off, I have cancer” badge. 

Turns out, it was none of the above. She’d actually sprained her ankle and was screaming, “Cancer!” at the sky, which struck me as pretty weird. Do the Dutch honestly use ‘cancer’ as both an exclamation of frustration and an insult? Apparently so, and it can even be used in a positive way with ‘kankerlekker’ meaning ‘really tasty’ or ‘really good looking’. Yet no one seems to know why. Some researchers are convinced it came from the country’s 16th century dedication to Calvinism, the super-puritanical arm of Protestantism. Calvinism lauded prosperity, health and hygiene above all else which made the disease-ridden particularly unpopular. Meanwhile, other theories suggest it may simply have caught on as a random linguistic trend. 

Wherever it originates from though, ‘kanker’ insults are truly jarring to hear. And I say that as someone with at least two WhatsApp group chats called ‘cunt’ something or other. I think it’s because cancer is terrifying. It is something we all fear. We all live with a quiet unease about it that gets louder every time we or a loved one experience an unexpected physical change. None of us – none of us – remain untouched by cancer in some way. It’s an awful disease that kills indiscriminately. Wishing it on someone, therefore, is incredibly dark – which is why, of course, it makes such an effective expletive. It’s a proper taboo.  

So, feel free to wish trench foot on me by all means, or call me a wanker when it’s deserved, but I’ve had cancer and I genuinely wouldn’t wish it on my nemesis. And she’s a poxy bitch. 

Just One More Thing

Swearing, like all aspects of language, is an indelible part of culture. How, when, where and why we swear is shaped by our history and linguistic traditions. I did consider asterisking out the c-word above because I know it still has the ability to shock and yet we wouldn’t asterisk out ‘cancer’ when used as a swearword, would we, even when it comes across as more shocking than traditional curses?  

My Dutch partner has since explained that using ‘kanker’ as a swearword is considered exceptionally bad form in the Netherlands. While in Britain swearing can be used casually and even affectionately, you usually only curse in Dutch if you mean it. Very few people would ever greet their mate, “Hoi, tyfuslijer” (typhoid sufferer) with a slap on the back. Although I’m sure the woman we passed who shouted, “Kanker!” at the sky probably does. She clearly has some issues. 

Either that or she really could smell it on me. 

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*Exceedingly modest reminder that I have written eight bestselling mental-health books which have been translated into at least 10 languages. I’ve also written a book about the TV show Friends which would make a delightful gift for any Friends obsessives. All are available to buy online or at your local bookshop.