Amsterdam: May 2008 Archives
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!
