Orange, Orange, Orange

Queens Day, by all means EPIC.

April 30th commemorates the birthday of the former Queen of the Netherlands, Beatrix, and for some reason it also provides justification for a national holiday with: minimal governmental regulation (thereby allowing anybody to sell virtually anything anywhere--minus drugs and things of the like), endless boats streaming through the canals, unprompted dancing in the streets (no exaggeration), and every shade of orange you can imagine to be worn, held, and shown.

The day technically starts the night before under the heading of Queen's Night. That night actually happened to be a (Dutch) friend's birthday, so we headed over to his place (quite late, even for my standards) where the festivities began. Afterward we took to the streets which were bombarded with people drinking and generally gallivanting, all in the name of the Queen of course.
I ran into the Spanish who had conveniently positioned themselves along a major canal so that they were easy to spot (though they generally are, being that the girls are all 5 feet, tiny, and in the state of constant dance and the men always happen to be laughing for no particular reason). Meeting them was the highlight of the night (they're such fun people, I highly recommend a Spanish posse--though one that you only see occasionally, they'll run you down with their stamina for dance, alcohol, and general merriment).

The next day we headed to the boat, at 11 in the morning! It may not seem like much of a task but after the night before, it wasn't exactly easy. Also, drinking early isn't all that appealing. However, the boat was the best idea! Again, it was a boat usurped by the Spanish for which all the non-Spanish were grateful. We were easily one of the loudest boats to pass through the canals but b/c of the theme of the day, it only seemed fitting.

After the boat we ended up at Angela's (another friend, actually a coach) apartment where a dance party spontaneously occurred and news of the current Queen's assassination attempt hit. The information caused a few waves (and shivers) but not serious or long enough to prevent us from continuing. We left Angela's in the direction of Museumplein (where some of the biggest festivities were occurring) only to be distracted by another impromptu dance party, this time in the street. That was probably the highlight of that day--the unfiltered excitement in the streets was amazing! Once we headed towards Museumplein we got caught in the worst human traffic I've ever been a part of (sardines, literally sardines). Once we made it out of there we ended up in Vondelpark (again, still not at Museumplein), crashing onto the grass to regain some semblance of energy.

By the time we got to Museumplein, the day's activities had come to a close. Apparently the Queen's assassination attempt had put a hold on the rest of the planned events (Tiesto finished much earlier than expected). It was not a big deal though, the day had been long enough.

Schiermonnikoog

Like most places in the world, the Netherlands is home to several booming cities (in addition to neighboring towns and sleepy distant provinces) and a few vacation islands. Schiermonnikoog is one of them and to many natives it's considered the less interesting one, but to everyone else it's the overabundant mud haven which is impossible to pronounce. The trip was arranged through CIEE and intended to be a sort of a camp/country outing. To get to Schiermonnikoog you must first get to Groningen (the other Dutch city we went to about a month ago) and then take a ferry--it's a schelp is what I'm trying to say.

Once we got off the boat, we got our bikes and we literally rode off into the sunset along the greenest fields I have ever seen. Along one side were whitewashed stones and sea and on the other were hills of green. Our destination was a cabin situated on one of the quiet streets of the town. There was a kitchen and eating area and several rooms stocked with bunk beds--camp like every cliche. In true camp fashion we stayed up late playing some silly game until we trudged our bodies to bed, setting our alarms for 5:00 AM to wake up to do some mud-walking (pictures on facebook). I had bought cheap boots for the occasion for which I praised myself, only to find that the mud was stronger than my intution. There were moments I couldn't move without falling deeper into my semi-soft, but always threatening, dirt surroundings (at which point the early morning "breeze" was a hell of a bonus). When I finally un-submerged my feet from the treacherous, all-consuming mud, I took a look around where we were: miles of uncovered, low tide--with the sun just slightly hovering above. I never thought mud could be so picturesque.

After the mud walking we rode around Schiermonnikoog, through the trails in the forest, along the various green fields, and by the beach. It epitomized "scenic." That same night we had a bonfire on the beach where many of the boys showed off their boyscouting abilities in building a fire. Like I said, camp.

And by that I mean Wonderful!

Haarlem (of the Dutch Variety) and Spanish Weekend

So instead of going to Berlin, I spent a day in Haarlem, which is a town/city right outside of Amsterdam. It's a worthy destination! Quaint and charming, bustling with markets and bicycles (as anywhere in the Netherlands), Haarlem is a far cry from its NYC counterpart. I was walking through one of the outdoor markets when I sat down on an antique bench to soak up some sun. Just then I turned, realizing the stream of Dutch I heard was being directed at me. The man from whom the words came had bulbous nose, a hearing aid, and clutched his cane even when sitting. When he realized I didn't speak Dutch, he switched to English and regaled me on the state of various American social policies (i.e. "40 million Americans have no insurance!") and his family. Apparently his wife very much liked her visit to NY and his daughter lives in Melbourne. His last words to me were, "If you get married, you can stay here," as he thrust his body onto his cane to lifted himself off the bench. His wife passed by, she seemed somewhat younger and more spritely, but I'm sure he was a charmer back in the day.

The rest of the weekend I spent with the Spanish (you can check Facebook for identification, the names give it away). We went to Pata Negra, a "Spanish, Spanish restaurant" my friends informed me when they realized that everyone who worked there was actually a native of their homeland, much to their surprise. We had a pitcher of Sangria (somewhat different and more expensive than at Pio Pio's, but I still relished it) and a couple of typical Spanish dishes (the Spanish put their seal of approval on the meal-->worthwhile!). Later that night we went to Melkweg ("Milky Way") where we spent most of our time in the reggaeton section. There was a Dutch boy from the South who caught my eye (also on Facebook) and the only reason I mention him (if you couldn't tell, I've been avoiduing those topics in most of my posts) is b/c he reminded me of home, lol. He was putting on the whole arrogant, laidback attitude and I have to say I was into it, delivering my bitch routine to his jackass act.
At one point I said, "You're a real asshole, you know that?"

To which he responded, "Yeah, but I'm sweet after sex,"

"Hmmm," I said, "well I want someone sweet before and after."
It was pretty entertaining and a memorable soundbite. (Nothing happened, he asked to go home with me, I told him to go home to the South).

In short, great weekend!

End of Mama's Visit/Joyce's Arrival

By the weekend I had convinced my mother out of going to Belgium (I have no idea why she was so set on it to begin with) and so we continued to explore Amsterdam. I managed to avoid most of the places which I had the sneaking suspicion she wouldn't appreciate seeing, though we did stop by the Red Light District (she was more amused than I thought she would be!). She really enjoyed the city (of course, who wouldn't?!) and I'm really glad to have had the opportunity to see her and show her where I live. The stress of the situation mounted on Tuesday when: a) I had class all day; b) a hair appointment; and c) Joyce's arrival to Amsterdam. Everything more or less fell into place (albeit not without some tension). By the night I needed some relief so I took Joyce to the Borrel. Considering the frequency with which I attend Borrel, I didn't expect how excited I would be to go this last time--I was more stressed than I thought! I introduced Joyce to everyone, throwing her into conversations (and people) with the kind of grace I'm known for when introducing people (It's an aristocratic quality really). The next day I had work which forced me to send Joyce off on her own and leave my mom to her own devices on her last (half) day in Amsterdam. When I was finished work I changed into a dress my mother would deem last-day-in-Amsterdam-worthy and jetted over to see her before she left. Our goodbyes were sweet and capped off the experience well. Right afterwards I meet with Joyce and we spent the rest of the day going between various locations and running into people (which expressed another pleasant quality of Amsterdam's size and character). I don't think I was as a good a tour guide to Joyce as I could've been, but I did my best! It was the first time I spoke to someone in person about school and life (from home) in months!

The weekend of the 17th (which would've been the day Joyce left) I was supposed to go to Berlin, but I didn't (tickets sold out) and I think it was for the best. Could you imagine hopping on a bus and crusading around a city after two weeks of touring, walking, and sightseeing??

Guess Who's Coming (and paying) for Dinner

I'm writing this from a communal computer in the back of the lobby of the Pulitizer Hotel where my mother (and by invitation, moi) is staying. Fueled by guilt by my blogger neglience (and the fear of being charged), I write with speed.

Wednesday at 6:00 AM I awake to a phone call from my father who asks if I've met my mother yet, realizing the time, I come to the conclusion that I missed my alarm which would've sent me on my way to meeting her upon her arrival to Amsterdam. I set off on my bike instead to her hotel, the sun taking as slow a start as I have. I arrive almost at the same time as she does, haphazarding locking bike as she gets out of her cab to greet me as I hand her tulips. That day the weather proved to be temperamental and unpleasant, my mother's yellow umbrella appearing more handy than just cute. We went to the Anne Frank House (which I enjoyed more than I thought I would), took a boat tour and went to two musuems (the Van Gogh and the Rijks).

The next day was the former day's guilt-ridden counterpart, compensating for the troublesome weather with an almost overzealous stream of sunlight. My mother, though almost always a fan of outdoor seating, opted for a shaded half-indoor table. Events: walk around Spui, Rembrantplein, more boat tour (can't even remember)

Anyway (I'm totally speeding through this shit now) we also went to the Keukenhoff (garden with tulips and shit, an hour away from the city). It's exactly what you'd expect and a dash of international overload. We've gone out to cafes and restaurants for every meal and snack (WONDERFUL) and have only had a few spats (more or less).

Will provide more later!

Football!

Yesterday we had a planned CIEE excursion to see Holland play versus Macedonia (quite an undertaking for one of the best ranked teams, let me tell you). The weather has been AMAZING lately and so we took it upon ourselves to get decked out in orange while drinking outside. I was minimal in my orange enthusiasm, but I did don a Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes-type design on my cheek and kept to the team colors. There were mobs of orange when we were on the train and on our way to the stadium--and we're talking about a match against Macedonia! When we got to the arena, there was a bit of a sticky situation. Apparently the tickets our program purchased were counterfeit which was really strange b/c they were bought in person at the ticket merchant. As a result we missed a bit of the first half (and the first two goals that Holland scored). But we got in and everything was fine! Holland ended up winning 4-0 and I had my first live European football experience! It's so much more fast-paced than any other sport and you really have to pay attention to keep up. Also, the players get into fights and scuffles quite a bit (which is a lot fun, gets you all riled up). I had a lot of fun, but I was so tired (I had worked all day). I highly recommend coming to watch a game if you're going to be in Europe for a little while!

As far as today is concerned, the weather was amazing--under the sun it was actually hot! I have only one class on Thursdays (from 4-6) but our teacher was MIA so the few of us that stuck around a bit longer than the rest left to go to a cafe. As we were sitting down, our teacher walked by! Apparently he had forgotten to change the time on this particular watch (we moved ahead by an hour last week) and was late by an hour. In the end, he wound up sitting and drinking with us, so I would qualify it as a lesson.

Sorry, it's been a while hasn't it?

Alright, so I'll run through all of things that I haven't spoken about yet. This past Monday I went to a concert at the Carre, the Amsterdam version of Radio City Music Hall, to see Room Eleven, a Dutch band that sings in English. It was such a surreal experience. The audience was so contained! They would clap loudly when prompted by the band's arrival onto the stage or an encore and would time-to-time stand up, but otherwise they were seated. The band's dynamic was strange too. There was no opening act and the stage was decorated like a sincere stage--props and all. There was a couch, a water cooler, and a platform. They would talk in between songs (in Dutch) and indulge the audience with some (probably scripted) humor. They were pretty theatrical--it felt like a show, not just a band performing. As far as the band is concerned, they were great! I would really check them out, they're a very listenable jazzy-rock band, all of whom are great musicians! I almost didn't end up going (I was running late and the weather wasn't conducive to stirring up much excitement) and I'm so glad I did! Speaking of the weather, I can't understand it! Last week it was wonderful and lately it's been dreadful (notice the strong language)! Monday it hailed--HAILED! Granted only for a minute, but I had ice in my hair! And the last few days it's been raining rather hard with interminent gusts of wind just to add insult to injury. I'm hoping it's just winter's last rally before the start of better days!