Post 6: Are you going somewhere? Or did you get lost in Amsterdam?

FUNNY ARTICLE: American Embassy warns Americans abroad of danger post football games

I think the word of this post will be “romanticized”. Here is how I would use it in a sentence: “Man, I really romanticized the idea of going to Amsterdam, but in reality, it kind of sucked.”

The life of a backpacker is one that I will not be able to lead, and find difficult to understand. Don’t get me wrong, I love taking trips, and I have especially loved my time in Europe. Everyday I find myself thinking about how I could move over here after I graduated, or the possibilities of jobs abroad. However, I could not spend six months in Europe without set plans. Never. Here’s a quote from a girl I met in this weekend’s hostel, “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been gone for like five months now…[counts on fingers]… I think. I want to you know, like see my mom again. Maybe I will get a job too. I don’t really have any money.”

When I was sixteen I dreamed of being this person. I wanted to be the rogue traveler who doesn’t care about anyone or anything and is just out to experience life in a foreign country. However, when you’re 21 and you’re sitting across from this person and they smell really bad, and look a little sad, and have no direction in their life, and no plans for the rest of the day but to smoke out the hostel, you realize that the person you dreamed of when you were 16 really isn’t that cool and would probably get really strange looks in public places.

Needless to say, if you can’t infer from the previous paragraphs, this past weekend’s travels were a series of ups and downs.

The drive to Noordwijk, the beach city where we stayed in The Netherlands, was awesome. The view from the car was nothing but large green trees, fields of flowers and various crops, and of course windmills (the traditional and wind energy kind [!]). The Netherlands is probably one of the most fertile places in the world. Seriously, you could bury a cigarette butt and with the next rain a tobacco plant would sprout!

The HUGE flower market in the middle of Amsterdam

The highway signs here do not have the cardinal directions on them- just the cities. You’d have to study your geography well to know that Schiermonnikoog was west of Noordpolderzijl. Good thing there is Google Maps.

The Dutch language made reading the signs pretty amusing though. Dutch is like German but without the vowels. How do you pronounce a word with a “j” and a “d” right next to each other? When you hear people speak Dutch, it sounds like they are talking backwards! For example, say this next phrase out loud really fast-

“Yed nick dub stan wurd vey”

That means, “I like wearing wooden shoes when I stroll through my garden.” Good job; now tell all your friends you know Dutch!

On the way in we stopped at a fine American dining establishment…McDonald’s. Although this might not be a big deal for anyone else, I had not consumed a single thing created by McDonald’s in 4 years- but I did it, I broke my fast for some of that greasy goodness! Some things of note: only 1 free ketchup packet, no free refills, unwrapped straws handed to you from some mysterious compartment below the cash register, and only cash accepted (surprise, surprise!).

Speaking of money, my problems with the banking system here continue. I really doesn't make any sense to me that when I withdraw money from my bank on a Thursday that transaction is not on record when I print out my statement from the bank on a Monday. If I made the transaction at Dresdner Bank's ATM then why does it not update my Dresdener bank account?!

This is the only explanation: The ATM is really just a computer that logs all of the transactions and then at the end of the day prints out a 50 meter long piece of paper with a list of all the transactions done by everyone. An employee then takes that 50 meter long piece of paper and fills out by hand an individual withdrawl form for each person that used the ATM. He then puts those slips in the inbox of the secretary who will enter them into the computer the next morning. The computers of course will be down for daily maintence from 8-12, so she might finish 1/4 of the slips. Okay, sorry.

Noordwijk is best described as sleepy beach town. As Brandon and I were exploring the area close to the hostel on the first night, we actually pasted by a senior citizens center where they were having some kind of crazy party. With a beautiful beach, cool Dutch homes, and a relaxed community, it seemed like a perfect place to retire.

Check out that sign - no native americans on horses or teepee allowed!

If Noordwijk were the perfect place to retire, than Amsterdam would be the perfect place…to be damned to hell. Okay, I’m ragging on it too much, it was actually really cool. The architecture was very classical modern (?) and every building was different. The canals running through the city streets were a nice touch, and of course there were lots of trees and plants. However, just like when I was 16 and imagined a backpacker as a cool hero figure, I always put Amsterdam on this pedestal. I thought it was this uber trendy liberal Mecca where yeah, marijuana and prostitution was legal, but it wasn’t a big deal. I thought the people would look like me, and be really friendly and outgoing, want to talk to you about world events, or like be nice or something, I don’t really know. What I found in Amsterdam was just a very dirty, sleazy city that sold itself to tourists looking to get stoned and buy hookers. Every gift shop (which there were thousands) had three main staples: wooden shoes, stuff with pot leaves on it, and stuff with sexual innuendos. The coffee shops did not feature the inviting and “cool” crowd that I always pictured. The usual occupants were either strung out & smoked-stupid locals, or tourists sporting one of the really annoying t-shirts bought from the closest gift shop. The Red Light District made me want to take a shower. Although my only other encounter with a prostitute was in NYC and she was possibly not a she, I wasn’t prepared to encounter good-looking prostitutes. Whenever you see them on COPS you never feel sorry for them because they don’t look like a cute girl that could go to TCU.

Of course I’m not going in to much detail about the fun parts of the weekend or the cool parts of the city, but all that is on my mind presently is how I blew so much money on such a disappointment. Maybe I am just becoming sick because I’m slowly growing more and more conservative the longer I am in Europe (I’m afraid that by the time I get back I might second guess who to vote for in November…just kidding!)

Needless to say, we canceled this weekend’s trip to Belgium. Money must be saved for the big trip to Interlaken, Switzerland where one of us may not come back alive.

The European Championship is heating up and getting incredibly exciting. On Wednesday there is a huge match between Germany and Turkey. There are a lot of Turks in Germany (probably Koln especially) and I would probably be lying if I said that they assimilated gracefully. Let’s just say it will be incredibly interesting Wednesday depending on who wins. Think of Ohio State vs. Michigan, but instead of being a state away, the colleges are in the same exact town! If I go to a public viewing, I will probably wear a bulletproof vest.

Work is going well. My only real complaint is how boring all of my coworkers are! The graphic designer, Patrick, is really the only cool one from the entire Communications department. Surely he must be an icon for all German women, and the envy of all German men!

….thanks for the beer, Patrick.

Since I will be staying in Koln this weekend, I will post a little sooner than I usually do, and hopefully have some more pictures of this fair city, and some more insights on my observations of Deutschland, etc.





Thanks for reading.