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On this trip I have been spending a lot of energy fighting to stay in the here and now. My thoughts often wander back to where I've been (especially when I'm confronted with something new, or something strangely familiar, I end up comparing it to something else I've seen). And there's always the pressure to plan the next stage of the trip. I also find myself, as I often do while travelling, reevaluating my life--becoming nostalgic for days gone by, or trying to figure out what tyo do when I grow up. I guess some people might experience this often, but for me it's more disorienting and distracting than changing time zones. So let's spend a little time on the recent past so I can go about my day...
Amsterdam turned out to offer everything I had been promised...once I escaped the tourist district. Our tiresome hostel incorporated every aspect of the crummy side of the city--cramped, impersonal and damp--and the bar/common room was constantly blaring terrible American pop music for the kids who were there just to get trashed. The Amsterdam of my dreams does exsist, though. I had only to cross the Singel Canal to find ginger bread houses and magical shops full of fairy dust and toad stools. We spend very little time with other tourists, just long enough for the Van Gogh Museum and some photography. Mostly we went to the park, strolled along the enchanting canals late into the night, and slept in.
One amazing aspect of Amsterdam is its many layers. There's the scummy layer of broken down houses where folks are trying to get pleasure any way they can, the bourgeious tourist sections showing off their money at flashy cafes and bars, and then the extensive districts of quiet residential canals with a few scattered museums and art galleries. These layers are all a couple of blocks from each other, so within minutes one can escape the gutter through a Times Square-like dazzle of lights, and end up by the silent bridges all lit up from underneath. And throughout that walk there are also layers of traffic to be noted. Amsterdam is so full of bicyclists that they get right of way over everything but the trams. Every street has a different way of containing its layers of bikes, cars and public trams, and us on foot never know what to expect--as a pedestrian (trained agressively in Boston) I found myself looking both ways three times before I crossed a street. And then when I hit the canals I realized that there's a whole other layer--the boats--who have their own traffic rules and don't need to deal with any of us land-bound folks.
Throughout my stay in Amsterdam I found the greatest peace in the quiet places, along the canals or in Vondelpark. Our last day in Amsterdam I decided to walk up and down the long canals taking pictures and sketching a little. I had bought a little set of colored pencils, and even though the rain forced me away from my bench I got to sketch a little while in a cafe. The inspiration to draw had come a couple days earlier while relaxing in Vondelpark. As Scott and I ate a picnic on the grass I looked around at my surroundings and realized that the scene in front of me must not be lost in the sea of time. In the distance across the pond a one-man-reggae-band played. In the foreground an energic little dog tried to make friends with any canine it could find while its owners whispered and kissed in the grass. A middle aged couple sensually slow danced. A little boy, whose snack had just been stolen by a shaggy dog, stopped crying just long enough to knock over some bicycles which his pregnant mother ran over to pick up. Some people might have analyzed this scene as typical of Netherlandian liberal values and social tolerance. But to me it was simpler, it was all so beautiful and peaceful and perfect that I had to immortalize it--I grabbed Scott's pen and a piece of paper and scrawled everything down in my amateur hand. The product might not be that interesting but it started my juices flowing.
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