Are you getting somewhere, or did you get lost in Amsterdam!

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(November 27th - December 1st) Now before I get into this one, I must warn all of you that this entry is for mature audiences only. Amsterdam is a wonderful place, but there are a lot of very adult things that take place there, and I don’t want to upset anyone as I write a true account of Brian and my trip there. (Boy Cory, we’ll count you as a mature audience, but just this time 😊 After another full day of train rides, we arrived Thanksgiving night in Amsterdam. At first I was determined to make some kind of Thanksgiving meal for us all . . . us being Brian, myself, my friend Rik, and his girlfriend Celine. I met Rik on a pubcrawl in Rome with Cheryl seven years ago. The very same pubcrawl on which I met Rob. Ironic how important that one night really turned out to be. Rik and Celine visited San Francisco three years back and now it was our turn to visit them. In my mind I imagined making some kind of meat (not necessarily turkey as it takes hours to make), vegetables, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, stuffing hopefully, and macaroni and cheese (upon Brian’s request). We ate steak. We ate steak at an Argentinean restaurant in downtown Leiden where they played the same song by the same artist over and over again on repeat and none of the staff seemed to notice. I even joked once with our waitress asking her who was singing. She brought me back the name and the album title, but didn’t realize to change the song.

Rik and Celine live in Leiden, which is about a twenty-minute train ride from Amsterdam. They have a fabulous loft that overlooks one of the canals and has a quaint and cozy cabin-like feel to it. The second Brian and I stepped in the door (after two steep flights of stairs) we were delighted we had been welcomed to such a wonderful spot to rest and explore Holland for five days. On top of our snug little space overlooking Leiden, we had two of the most generous, welcoming, and gracious hosts I’ve ever encountered. They bought dinners, made breakfast, served us Celine’s infamous Pizza ala Celine, toured us around both Leiden and Amsterdam, and still smiled when we asked if we could stay an extra night before heading on to Berlin. It was great to be with people we knew for a few days to refresh and feel at home. We looked at old photos, watched a countdown of the top hits of the 90’s on VH1, and laughed and laughed at stories that occurred over the past seven years. So before I continue on, thank you so very much Rik and Celine. Your kindness was truly overwhelming! They even handed us a bag of cookies and sweets as we walked out the door for our train ride to Berlin! Greatest hosts ever! We’ll be back in the spring to see the tulips . . . one of these years 😊

Amsterdam is famous for many things; wooden shoes, tulips, bicycles, canals, the Anne Frank House, coffeehouses, the Red Light District, and of course the legal distribution of drugs. But we’ll get into that in a little bit. Let’s start with the Anne Frank House, not an easy subject, but one that must be discussed. There is always something so humbling about walking into a piece of history whether good or bad. I remember when I first went to South Carolina with my mom when we would take “learning vacations” which my sister and I hated. But seeing the Civil War memorials was daunting even as a young child. This was far worse. When you first enter the house its actually where the front of the factory used to stand. If you don’t know the story of Anne Frank, please read or research it. I only wish my students were a bit older so I could teach it to them, because its truly inspirational to learn about the day to day life of such a young child as she braved the cruelty and inhumanity facing her culture. As you walk through the factory, through the bookcase that hid the secret door, and up to their house, there are quotes from her diary printed all over the walls that are truly chilling. One that really struck me was: “One day this terrible war will be over. The time will come when we’ll be people again and not just Jews! We can never be just Dutch, or just English, or whatever, we will always be Jews as well. But then, we’ll want to be.” And another one from Primo Levi who was an Auschwitz survivor, “One single Anne Frank moves us more than the countless others who suffered just as she did but whose faces have remained in the shadows. Perhaps it is better that way; if we were capable of taking in all the suffering of those people, we would not be able to live.”

It made me really reflect on the present time. There are still places on this planet where genocide is occurring and the suffering of innocent people is taking place. Some of it is at our hands. It’s hard to be so comfortable in a cozy seemingly ignorant life knowing that so many other people, our brothers and sisters, are dying every day. Anne’s father, the only survivor in the family said, “To build up a future, you have to know the past.” Have we really learned yet? With greater advancements in science and technology should come greater knowledge, but with it also comes greater separation and greater gaps between cultures, ages, and races. I remember when I was in Nepal a few years back in the middle of the riots, a few school kids were intrigued by the three white travelers and began to talk with us. At nine years old they had already witnessed death. The death of their neighbors, friends, and even family members. They were the same age as the students in my classroom. That kind of suffering should never take place. We must learn.

I told you this one was not for immature audiences. And it’s only just begun. Before I get into the rest of the “Mature Audiences Only” section, lets talk about the bicycles in Amsterdam. I have never seen so many bicycles in my entire life! Bruges was pretty bad and definitely reminded me of campus at UC Santa Barbara, but Amsterdam was like taking the parking section at Cambell Hall and layering it into a four-story building. And that’s exactly what they have. They have parking garages dedicated solely to bikes! Multi-story bike parking garages! It was insane! It makes me wish it were more like that back home. We truly do need to green up transportation in the states. The other thing there’s no lack of in Amsterdam or Leiden are windmills. They’re everywhere! My favorite was a Tara-sized one that had a short little stumpy base and big propeller slats (no idea what they’re called so we’re going to go with propeller slats), that turn so low to the ground you could grab one and hang on for dear life. That’s me, all torso, no legs.

Alright . . . back to the indecent part of this blog. This next section will be entitled, “The Most I’ve Ever Giggled In My Life.” Now, as most of you know, I’m still a little kid at heart. I still watch Sponge Bob Square Pants, I play dress-up whenever I have the opportunity (and you thought I was just clever with themed-parties 😊, and I probably have just as much fun if not more being silly with my students. What can I say? I’m going to hold onto it for as long as I can 😊 Now, Cher, don’t be upset. A giggle is not a laugh. So its not the same as when you and I go into laughing fits for days at a time . . . Gort! Ok ok . . . so in many of the places we’ve gone so far, prostitution has been legal. And most of the ladies we see on the streets look a little run down, a little medicated, and way-over painted for the occasion. The Red Light District was nothing like that. The way it works is there are several streets with small alleyways that boast red lights over each door. The doors all have full-length glass windows so that you can see exactly what you’re . . . eh hem . . . purchasing. But the ladies in these doors (oh come on, you know I had to walk by), looked like, well, models in bikinis. They were definitely showing off their bodies, but not in distasteful ways. Women of every shape, kind, and color. None of them were wearing too much makeup or elaborate costumes. It was like watching the swimsuit competition with Miss American but the women were all in booths. I still giggled of course, because they not only looked at Rik and Brian, but at Celine and myself as well, winking, gesturing, and smiling as we walked by.

Having passed my first test of maturity, we decided it was time to experience another infamous Amsterdam landmark, the Sex Museum. The Amsterdam Sex Museum advertises its accurate portrayal of sexual culture throughout history. There’s even a video that starts with Adam and Eve and ends with present day, detailing how sex has been changed and been viewed in society over time. It took me five takes to sit in the giant penis chair and try not to laugh while posing with Brian. Rik definitely was a little more creative than us as you can see from the pictures. It was definitely weird to see historical references, paintings, and old photos as I’m sure most of us try not to think about even our parents participating in the act. Storks, lots of storks in the 80’s. But it was fun, and definitely a giggle-filled experience.

Eating in Amsterdam and Leiden wasn’t our main priority like so many other places we’ve visited trying to experience the culture through its delicacies. But we did enjoy two things and have sworn when we open our bar they will definitely be served. The first are bitter balls (again no idea how they’re spelled but that’s what it sounds like). Bitter balls are little deep fried breaded balls filled with meat and cheese. Brian must have eaten his weight in these while I drank my fill of hot chocolate with rum. Doesn’t sound too tasty, but it is. There’s something about the combination of the two that warms your insides for hours like a tea kettle of hot water was poured right though your veins. We experienced these two scrumptious delights after walking around on the beach in the snow. I never even knew Amsterdam or Leiden had beaches, but apparently they do! There was something magical about watching the waves roll in and out as snow poured down. You would’ve loved it Pops.

The last little scandalous bit of Amsterdam is of course the drug distribution. As of December 1st, the day before we left, it became illegal to sell magic mushrooms in Amsterdam and many of the shops displayed signs of protest outside their doors. Coffeehouses, however, are still fully in effect boasting dozens of varieties and strengths of weed. According to all the locals we talked to, its only really the tourists who go in to sit for a few hours, get high, and spend the rest of the day laughing to themselves as they walk around the city giggling over how many bikes there are. To each their own.

It was hard leaving Holland, and even harder leaving Rik and Celine and their wonderful home above the canal. I hope you enjoyed this blog and didn’t take too much offense. I had to tell it like it is because this writing is just as much for you all as it is for myself. On to Berlin!

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