I <3 Parallel Syntax

Alright, single-digit number of people who still read this, Michelle's Amsterdam entry has convinced me to write my own, despite the fact that I went there weeks ago and just figured "too late to write about it." Now's the time.

First off, yes. Amsterdam is a land where the smell of pot is ubiquitous and you can sing updated old children's songs like "How Much Is That Hooker in the Window?" (I didn't. I'm not THAT culturally stunted. I did make the joke though.) It is also an incredibly beautiful city, full of winding canals with houseboats and dinghies perched placidly on top of the water, cobblestones streets full of fashionable bikers on old-fashioned bikes, and tiny, glued-together apartments that, like Venice, are slowly sinking into the adjacent canals. The Heineken flows like Guinness through the veins of an Irishman, the Pannekoeken (pancakes, more similar to thick crepes topped with deliciousness) take up large plates with their fluffy, ham-and-pineapple-and-cheesy goodness, and the people are all wonderfully kind AND, bonus, speak wonderful English.

Besides getting terrifically lost on the way to our hostel because Kelley, Holder of the Map, confused Kerkstraat with Kreizengracht and we walked half an hour out of the way and around 25% of Amsterdam before realizing that we may not be in the right place when the number of our hostel was occupied by a Dutch Man, Esq., it was smooth sailing throughout. Like the good little tourists we were, we went to the Heineken brewery, which was delicious ice-cold free beer amidst the usual tourist trappery. Some highlights included a "Brew You" "ride" where you got to "be the beer" (and I got to use far too many quotes just then), a wild Heineken rave room where the walls displayed golden bubbling beer and the ceiling was made out of Heineken bottle bottoms, and a room with little TV pods where you could watch all the Heineken TV spots from the 60s onward.

The next day we went to the Anne Frank Huis, which, for me, was a really moving experience. I am really into World War II-era everything, and after having seen what I've seen on SAS, I think I'm more finely tuned to the exact depth of human cruelty. We went through the whole house, and all I could think about was how people were forced to hide here, not making any sound, never going outside, because some other person said they weren't as good as the rest of the population. What never ceases to render me speechless is that I am/was stepping where they stepped. I walked through a field in which millions of Cambodians walked before they were senselessly shot by the Khmer Rouge. I walked down a dirt path under which lay the remains of thousands whose clothes and teeth still rise up to the surface after heavy rains. I walked through a room where Anne Frank wrote in her diary. I walked through a house whose inhabitants nearly all died because of their faith and their heritage. Point is, the more things like this I see, the less I even come close to understanding the human brain, to understanding humans in general. The added videography was also really powerful--the interview with Anne's father in particular. Anne died just a month before Auschwitz was liberated, and many attribute it to the fact that she assumed she had nothing else to live for, that the rest of her family had died along with her sister. But her father lived, and it was her father who got her diary published.

On a lighter note (sort of), we also took a walk through the red light district. It is really weird to see mostly naked women standing in red, blacklit rooms, primping and pimping. At the Pancake Bakery, our dinner choice, we walked upstairs to use the WC into a rabbi and his youth group leading a discussion about whether legal prostitution was a good idea or not. Of course we listened in as we waited our turn for the bathroom. Then we walked around some more. We decided our code word for "I want to take a picture" was "pancake". I don't know why we didn't just use "I want to take a picture", but...nevermind. I know. Code words are more fun!

We DIDN'T go to the Van Gogh Museum because it was 15 euro, and there's already a good Van Gogh collection at the Musee D'Orsay, which is gratuit pour les etudiants d'histoire de l'art, so we didn't feel too bad about saving ourselves some money.

After a weekend of pannekoeken, "pancake", prostitutes (just in the windows and just for the sake of alliteration, please!), and promenading, we took our lovely train ride back to Paris. In summary, Amsterdam is gorgeous and definitely worth a weekend visit if you've got the ways and means.