Recently in Amsterdam Category
The mosquitoes in my apartment have resorted to psychological warfare. Despite my attempts, I am losing the battle. This may be my last post, it is hard to say - for I am certain that one morning I will simply have been completely devoured by my winged flat-mates. These are not just any insects, they're a rare breed (hopefully) specific to this area and unlike any I've ever come across. They are calculating, sneaky, and manipulative and they are at once driving me crazy and eating me alive.
In Alaska, the mosquitoes are rampant for about two weeks in the summer. I had the pleasure of spending a week in the Prince William Sound during that exact time of year, and got to know them quite well. They're the size of dragon flies, it is a long-standing joke that they're the Alaska state bird.
Despite their size and overwhelming numbers, you can trust the Alaskan mosquitoes. You get the sense they're just flying around waiting for you to stumble into their path. When you do, they bite you through two layers of clothing and let you go on your way. They're scary as hell, but there is nothing sneaky about them.
In Oregon, they're tiny but aggressive. Anyone who has moved sprinkler pipes in the summer can tell you that Oregon mosquitoes are a force to be reckoned with. They are unlike their Alaskan cousins in that a swarm of Oregon mosquitoes will smell a human from across a 60 acre field and charge toward her with amazing speed and force. You feel like Winnie the Pooh being chased by the honey bees, and it has led people to do some crazy things (like covering oneself in mud to prevent their bites - don't ask).
I can't tell for sure, but I imagine they are also highly choreographed. If you remember the scene in "Finding Nemo" where the school of fish is teasing Nemo's dad you may know what I'm talking about. I think if I were less edible, I would like to stick around to find out more about their capabilities there.
In Montana the mosquitoes, like the people, are sparse. You rarely have to deal with more than a few at a time, and then they are slow and easily swatted (not that the people are slow and easily swatted, some of my favorite people are from Montana and I would never imply such a thing).
In Amsterdam, the mosquitoes are part insect, part demon. I'm not kidding. Somewhere along the evolutionary line one of these pesky bugs mated with Satan himself to produce a mutant line of highly specialized human eating machines, and they live in my apartment! I knew when I took the place on the canal that it would be a risk, but I do love the location and so I chose to deal with it. Mind you, my most recent experience was with the slow, swattable, Montana mosquitoes with whom I really wouldn't mind sharing a place with so I suppose my memory was a bit cloudy.
The mosquitoes in my apartment are predators. They wait until night time to strike, and only when I'm in bed. I leave the light on in the other room, hoping it will distract them but they are too savvy for such juvenile tactics. Once I am soundly tucked in the stalking begins. One at a time they approach my face (the only part of my body that is not covered in layers of protective cotton). Here is the clincher - THEY DON'T BUZZ. They are stealthy little bastards and they know better than to give up their location. They also know that once I fall asleep I'll be an easier target and I can't do that with them buzzing around my head. So they scout the situation: they fly close, wait to see if I swat at them, and stay just beyond arm's reach. I'm pretty sure they then report back to the others. I know they're there, I can see their grim outline in the faint light from my window and I can feel the air from their wings on my (apparently tasty) skin. So I lie there in fear, waiting for them to strike - but THEY DON'T. I feel them all around me, hovering, waiting, watching. But they are patiently waiting for the command from their leader (who I am pretty sure lives in my closet).
This dance has become a part of my nightly routine. I fight off my need for sleep in an attempt to avoid the inevitable. Once I finally give in they make their move, they crawl down into the covers to bite the backs of my knees, the spot between my shoulder blades that I can't reach, my feet (in places that rub against my shoes). Every 45 minutes I wake up, I try to catch them at it, I roll around hoping to squish them while they feast but to no avail. And so, I surrender. Usually around 4:30am I drift to a cautious state of sleep, knowing that I will wake up covered in itchy red battle wounds, with circles under my eyes and the groggy, clumsy, morning personality of someone who partied all night. But my state of disarray is not because I'm hung over, it's because I'm hunted. In my own place no less, where a girl should feel safe and relaxed.
This war has slowly begun to take over my days as well. Any slight breeze, a floating piece of fuzz catching my peripheral vision, a stray hair tickling my arm sends me into a frenzy. I can no longer see the line between the dark reality that is my situation and the 6 legged villains that haunt my waking dreams. When will it stop!?!?!?!
I know there are solutions - like citronella candles, a mosquito net perhaps. It all sounds like a good plan, but where would you go to buy these things? That's right - Target. And they don't have a damn Target store here. I don't know where to buy the weapons I will need to continue fighting this war - I have asked, and I have looked, but I remain unarmed and fear that I am close to defeat. So if anyone knows where in Amsterdam to buy Mosquito repellent, candles, traps, or insect-seeking missiles, please share!
As I get used to life in the Netherlands, I am beginning to realize there are some things I can't picture going without ever again, and some I don't know how I will survive the next 18 months unless I can find them here. At the risk of whining, or revealing how little I know about the world I live in, I've listed a few of them here:
Things I Love
- Chipknip (Smart Cards)
- Multi-function appliances
- Flower markets
- Driving sensibly
You can use your bank card like a debit card where you enter your pin, but you also have a separate amount which works like cash (called Chipknip). Once you put it on the card, it is there. If you lose the card, it can't be recovered - this also means that machines can accept it without a network connection since your identity or funds available doesn't have to be verified (like a laundromat card).
I have always thought the reason we don't have this system in the US is that it's not feasible - but they're everywhere here. You can pay parking meters, public phones, the cafeteria - it's fantastic and you don't have to carry change for everything.
I had no idea there was such thing as a washer SLASH dryer. Not a stacking unit where they both fit in the closet - it is ONE machine. You put dirty clothes in and get clean, dry clothes out! It is like a miracle, a dream come true. But as with other things, you must be careful what you wish for. I have already shrunk about 4 items because I wanted them "extra droog" and didn't realize that 60 on the dial meant degrees Celsius and not minutes in the spin cycle. Lesson learned...
But wait, there's more! I also have an oven SLASH microwave! It is small, only a little bigger than a toaster over but it can also microwave things! You can put plastic in there, or reheat your tea - it's nuts. I don't know how that works, nor do I care, but I am damned excited about it as you can see.
Just one canal over from my apartment there is an open air flower market that is open every day. They have every type and color of flower imaginable - several variations of my favorite (lilies). Each stem is the diameter of my index finger and standing on the floor the blooms reach up to my waist! And then as if it couldn't get any better - they're only EUR 7.50 for a bunch that is too big for just one regular sized vase. You can't beat that.
I've come along way since my last post about driving - I'm even praising it now. There is a law here that makes it a higher penalty for passing on the right than the one for speeding. As such, everyone just passes when necessary and then gets back over in to the appropriate lane. Traffic actually flows and you don't spend your morning behind some a** talking on the phone and going 45mph in the fast lane (not that I would care, because as I mentioned before I am now a patient and forgiving driver). It makes sense, America, try it!
Things I Miss
- Produce
- Box stores
- Pseudo-healthy convenience food
- Pedicures
Vegetables. I miss vegetables! I was spoiled in California having access to quality produce - those days are gone. You can't walk into a market with a list and expect to get tomatoes, zucchini, broccoli, lemons, and bananas. You have to walk in with an open mind and settle for the least pathetic looking of the severely limited options. There is no relief in dining out - salads are almost invariably the most expensive menu items and they are mediocre at best.
The Netherlands is not known for good food and I see why. I can also see why they're the tallest on average of any country. Dutch people love meat and potatoes, anything deep fried, and they wash it down with milk. It's as far from California as you can be.
I know... how very un-San Franciscan of me. I can't help it, I miss Target. I cannot even count the number of kilometers I have walked and hours spent trying to find basic things. They have a different store for everything here. There are absolutely no one-stop shops for groceries, toiletries, and household items. It makes shopping an all-day event - but on the bright side I think I am more conservative since I dread having to go find these things again!
Hopefully I redeem myself a little bit when I say I miss Cliff Bars and banana chips. As I mentioned above, there is not much of a demand for anything remotely healthy here. I know of a British/American grocery store but I am trying to acclimate and get used to the local customs so I've been avoiding it. Let's be honest though - I can only go so long before giving in!
Gone are the days of getting a fresh Mani/Pedi every Saturday for $25. I could walk 4 blocks, go right in without an appointment, and read trashy gossip magazines while the girls tried (often successfully) to talk me into the extra foot massage for only $10 more.
I have looked for places here in Amsterdam, but have found only one that seems clean and it takes a week and a half for an appointment to get a EUR 36 pedicure. The magazines are in Dutch, there is no extra massage, and quite frankly the woman is scary.
These are my initial observations about Holland - overall the good still far outweighs the bad and I look forward to getting used to life here and not noticing my bare fingernails or the extra chins I will probably develop as a result of eating fried meat on a regular basis.
I arrived in Amsterdam, the Netherlands a few weeks ago, and this beautiful city will be my home for the next 18 months. I think it was after my first successful attempt (after a few futile ones) to navigate the tram system that I realized the magnitude of my current situation. I have achieved my goal.
A runner who beats a personal best time starts his next run with a desire to beat his new record. A team finds success when they defeat the opponent, but the challenge starts all over again in the next game. In both of these cases one can define exactly how, when, and by how much they have "won." In both of these cases the next step is clear; there is always another game to win, another time to beat. In both of these cases one comprehends the feeling of victory, for if they have not experienced it before they understand it through having been subject to its opposite: defeat.
Achieving a goal independent of outside factors is difficult to define, to quantify. I wasn't faster, stronger, or better than my previous self or someone else. I am not suddenly able to compare my performance to a baseline set by myself or others. And perhaps the most difficult and foreign feeling I've ever experienced: I don't know my next move. All I can do is just be.
The ability to live in the present and appreciate each moment does not come naturally. Or perhaps, like imagination and optimism, it fades with age. By setting and accomplishing a goal with no tangible reward aside from self-fulfillment, I have found myself back in the present. This state of consciousness is just as foreign as my surroundings, as I haven't been here since childhood.
A mother will indulge her child's seemingly never-ending string of questions. She will come up with one acceptable answer after another for 'why?', 'how?', or 'what is?' (rarely 'what if?', or 'when did?' because those questions require an awareness from which they don't yet suffer). Sometimes she answers, "it doesn't matter, it just is." At this age, a child accepts her mother's authority. This is many years before adolescence when she suddenly knows everything.
In this new and unfamiliar place it has become an internal dialogue: posing a question, coming up with possible answers, and when none seems to satisfy my curiosity I decide it doesn't matter. It just is. And I realize, I am living in the present.
Gezelligheid is a Dutch adjective that describes my current emotional state. Look it up...
...to anyone I have ever cursed for their lack of driving skills. I apologize for my frequent displays of sarcasm (sometimes bordering on rage) invoked by frustration over spending upwards of three hours per day driving a route that should take two. Sometimes to myself, and more often aloud I wonder, "What is your problem? Can you not read the signs?" or "Is this your first time driving or something?" Today it occurred to me: that may in fact be the case. And if it is, I am sorry for my impatience and unforgivingness. I hereby resolve that when I either a)return to the US or b)become a seasoned driver in Europe; I will show you the patience that people showed me today.
As you may have guessed, today I picked up my lease car provided by KPMG. It is a 2006 VW Golf. It's very cute, I'll add a photo once it is clean. Today was one of the most terrifying days I can remember, I'm thankful I'm not in Britain or another country where the steering wheel is on the other side and they use the left side of the road - I don't know if I'd have made it!
When I took the driving test to get my license, I spent about 20 minutes with an instructor in a town with no stoplights. I had to demonstrate that I could safely turn left and right, use my signals, and come to a complete stop. I didn't even have to parallel park! All this, and there were in total about 10 other vehicles within a 3 mile radius (none of which were honking or yelling at me, by the way).
When I first arrived in San Francisco, as I attempted to maneuver the unfamiliar territory I asked "What in the hell were they (the DMV) thinking when they issued me this Driver's License?" Why, instead of taking my $4, isn't the toll booth attendant checking to see if I am in fact qualified to drive in the city? (I think they should have a similar operation at the base of a mountain pass during snowy months, to be fair). But I managed, and with a little practice I think I've adjusted for the most part.
Of course I do realize it is unrealistic to expect that someone check qualifications of drivers when traveling from one traffic and road condition environment to the next. But from one CONTINENT to the next? You'd think they'd have controls in place for that! The gentleman asked me, "can you drive a stick?" and when I replied affirmative he tossed me the keys!
He sent me on my way with a navigation system that speaks to me in Dutch (I subsequently got help changing it to English) and a Petrol card. My first stop was to fill up the tank. Parking in front of the pump I suffered a flashback to my first solo trip out of Oregon (where all stations are attended and it is illegal to pump your own gas). I stood there, confused, staring at the various Dutch signs and notices and looking around for some guidance. A kind young man offered his assistance and did everything he could to stifle a smile. As it turns out, it's very complicated. You insert the nozzle, and then squeeze the handle. I felt my face turn red as he explained, "in Holland, we still trust people to pay us." I chose to interpret his explanation as a sign that other Americans had made the same mistake before. It cost over EUR 85,00 for 53L - I'm still struggling with the Metric system but I know expensive when I see it!
My next challenge was to find my way to the De Meern office. With my navigation system programmed and a full tank of gas, I pulled onto the motor-way and drove with white knuckles to the office I will call home for the next 18 months. Of course, I can't understand what the signs say as they are in Dutch. I recognize a few familiar names of towns, but without a strong sense of direction or orientation, I don't know which ones to choose. As if that weren't enough, even the symbols and road markings are completely different. All of the lines are white (whether on a one way, two way, or divided road) - some dashed, some little triangles, and there is the occasional solid/dash combination (which does not mean "no passing"). A huge red circle with an "X" through the middle does not mean, "Do not enter" and when a sign indicates you are no longer in a 100 Km/h zone, it doesn't indicate what the speed limit is now. I actually have no idea what any of them meant, I had to improvise by observing other drivers - I'm going to study tonight.
I did arrive at KPMG De Meern in one piece - somehow. I met with the Secretary to the Partner I'll be working with, and she introduced me to my new colleagues around the office. It was not until they took my photo badge picture that I realized I'd apparently been sweating profusely and looked like I'd gone days without a shower. Nice first impression - the sweaty American girl.
On my way home I decided to wait out the heavy traffic by stopping for a snack. I asked the navigation system to take me to a restaurant near my current location. Finally, after 30 minutes of driving around lost uttering (or was it yelling?) a few choice names and phrases at the voice narrating directions, I gave up and headed back to Amsterdam. My clever plan to "wait out" traffic was a silly idea - there is no such thing here. It's one of the most densely populated cities in the world and nearly everyone drives.
Tomorrow I'm going to scope out a "Park and Ride" facility to avoid so much congestion. And I'm not listening to that stupid nav system for restaurant suggestions - she had no idea where to go! I felt like one more turn and I'd have ended up like Dwight and Michael when their rental car GPS told them to drive into Lake Scranton. If you haven't seen that episode of "The Office (US version)" then pretend I said something really smart and funny.
I am exhausted, and look forward to sleep. Today was tough, but of course it could have been much worse. I did learn a valuable lesson: I need to be nicer to people who are driving like idiots - there's a chance they really did learn to drive yesterday. Again, my sincere apologies to all of the bad drivers in San Francisco and beyond (except taxi drivers - there is no excuse for them).
I've arrived in Amsterdam, after a pleasant flight (Business class was great - it made all the difference). A porter at Schipol airport helped me manage all six suitcases and get through customs, then took me to the meeting point where my driver was waiting. Interestingly, he smelled of liquor at 07:30. Nonetheless, he got me to my hotel safely and I was happy to find that my room was available at the Gresham Memphis hotel. It is very nice, unfortunately the bed is a little hard but the great location easily makes up for that.
After a brief rest and a shower I decided to head out exploring. I'm only a few blocks from Museumplein ("Museum Square") which is beautiful. I haven't been in any of the museums yet, but I look forward to going soon.
Past Museumplein toward Centrum was nothing but one beautiful street after another. I felt like I was walking around in Disneyland or some kind of movie set. The canals are full of commercial tours and private groups out enjoying the beautiful weather. In front of historic mansions there are weeping willow trees whose branches skim the water. It's like nothing I've ever seen before, and I can't wait to keep exploring.
Next I wandered into Vondelpark which reminded of a college campus, or Dolores Park in San Francisco on a sunny day. Small groups of people parked their bicycles in piles and gathered on blankets to drink wine and eat snacks. The park was so crowded I thought there must be an event happening, but it turned out the main attraction was the sunny afternoon. Given Amsterdam's reputation for tolerance I would have expected more neo-hippies, but there were actually very few. I didn't see anyone strumming guitars, playing bongo drums, or hula-hooping. I'm not sad about that. Also, people are remarkably clean. They take care to avoid leaving trash, and pick up after their dogs.
In one of the ponds within Vondelpark I saw a pair of Mallard ducks. I was surprised how comforting a couple of ducks could be to a person who actively hates birds. I mean I REALLY hate birds. About a month ago I was in Washington, DC and Fabian and I noticed a pair in the reflecting pool. Of course, they are also common in Eastern Oregon as well as Montana. The buildings, the streets, the cars, the stores, the food, even the plants are new and different; and so it is nice that some things are the same. Unfortunately, there are also Pigeons - but they're less aggressive than in San Francisco. There are new birds too, something that looks a bit like a crow, but with blue eyes instead of red. I'm not sure what they are but they seem to mind their own business and so I don't actively hate them...yet.
In the afternoon I met with Guido, a housing agent who specializes in expat rentals. He drove me around the Centrum area and showed me five different places. I fell in love with two different apartments, each on a different canal. The first was on Keizersgracht. The living room overlooks a beautiful garden, and the bedroom overlooks the canal. The second was on the ground floor and had a huge, recently remodeled bathroom and it's own private garden. The first was sunny and bright, full of energetic yet peaceful noises. The second was perfectly serene - on the ground floor and facing away from the street, painted with muted colors and almost silent. I chose the first and hopefully they accept our offer, I could me moving in within the next week.
Later I ventured out again in search of some food. My internal clock is still off so I wasn't particularly hungry, but I figured it would be good to eat anyway. I found an Italian restaurant with outdoor seating on a busy corner - perfect for people watching. After dinner I meant to make my way back to the hotel but ended up getting lost and walking for a couple of miles in various (wrong) directions. The feeling was familiar, as many of my first days in San Francisco consisted of a similar schedule. However, I found Amsterdam seems safer. There are no homeless people panhandling, and no groups of young men loitering. Eventually I made it back to the hotel for some rest and to call my family to let them know I've arrived safely.
Please check out my photos on my Picasa site. Usually I add photos here in my blog but there are just too many beautiful things to see!
