Markers of the Nederlands spirit

With the hopscotch posting and now this one, maybe it seems I'm looking at the ground excessively, but Koninginnedag is coming, which means that sidewalk space is where it's at. While most people just write "BEZET" ("taken") on the ground with chalk to claim the spots where they will sell random articles on the 30th of April, others get fancy with their place markers. This one here, seen along Leidsestraat, I find humorously creative. Done with white tape, it says "Hier woon ik! . . . Mark, 16 jaar" (literally, "I live here ! . . . Mark, age 16"). That says it all.

Aside from these sidewalk occurences, orange items are multiplying everywhere. I was surprised to see that there are even special, orange-packaged Nederland Pringles for a limited time. My favorite orange spirit-shower so far, though, was in the market today. At the stand where I always buy vegetables, there were orange bell peppers being sold as "30th April" peppers. These people definitely are in the spirit!

A Tribute to my Stolen Loves

I never thought I'd be so desperate.

I am actually toying with the prospect of buying a bike from (GASP) a junkie. After a string of four bikes in 20 months, and with just a few months left here, I refuse to pay the 57-plus Euro to repair the piece of junk that is my current bike. And yet I need two wheels to get me around this city -- walking is great, but not if you end up having to huff and puff running late everywhere, and riding the tram gets expensive. A bike is simply a requirement in this city of more bikes than people, and I'm craving that luxurious ride.
I miss my second bike, which was sadly stolen at Central Station, the most (pictured here, romantically lounging its beautiful self amidst the snow). I bought it from a Portuguese guy here who recycles bikes. The other bikes had their quirks:

Bike number One: though it had a bell to warn tourists, it was a little too high -- it made me look elegant, but I couldn't really maneuver myself so well. It was stolen.

Bike number Three: this one was too low and so I looked like an ogre trying to ride a kiddie bike. Also, at this low angle, it was a bit too revealing to wear miniskirts without incredible indecency. At least it had great tires. It was stolen.

Bike number Four: it was missing a brake, shook, and had a bout of three flats in nine days (for which I still suspect shoddy repairmanship).

Since three of my bikes have been stolen, I think I deserve a cheap one from a junkie, but I'm still hesitant. I'm not sure if I am worried more about getting in trouble (if the cops catch you buying a bike on the street it's not such a good thing) or contributing to the circle of bike thievery. Either way, I will continue to halfway-commitedly scope out the streets near the University for scratchy looking people peddling slowly by, mumbling under their breath, "fiets?"

Hopscotch Olympics

If there were such a thing, the champion might come from my neighborhood. This particular hopscotch course went on for almost two blocks, ending with 610.

Since I've never seen the kids actually hopping, I don't know if they are professional hoppers or just math whizzes.

Amsterdam Species

Way to go you, um, water fowl! (What is this creature called? It's not a duck.) Bravo for making use of your natural resources. It's not even trash-producing Queen's Day yet and there's still as much garbage in the water as sticks to make your nest. At least it is being put to good use.

Vondelpark Sighting

Ah yoga (tai-chi, some strange combo)... so peaceful, so quiet, so tranquil...
until I disturbed them and took their picture. Honestly though, I don't know how you could stay calm and focused doing yoga while facing the main pathway in the Vondelpark.

That would be a challenge for an advanced yogi, and these poor people were obviously, painfully, new to this type of movement. They were distracted by all of us walking by who were staring and laughing. It surprises me that their teacher chose this location. Maybe they were office workers, on some kind of New Age middle-of-the-day relaxation exercise?

Go-Between in the Bijlmer

The other day I attended the Go Between curatorial project in de Bijlmer, which is an area of southeastern Amsterdam. This art event, through de Appel museum, is a collaboration among several young curators from around the world. They have curated various artworks, also by international artists, that pertain in some way with to de Bijmer, which was planned after the Second World War and consists of many high-rise and futuristic apartment complexes, a far cry from the mainly 1600s and 1700s architecture of Amsterdam centrum. Though originally planned for "regular" middle class Dutch families, de Bijlmer ended up being mainly filled with immigrants and many people of Suriname heritage. This multicultural neighborhood is a reminder (and educator) of the Netherlands' history of colonialism. In fact, I didn't know much at all about Suriname until I attended the Kwakoe festival in de Bijlmer last year.

Since we forgot the map of how to get to the Go Between, it took us a good deal of time -- we soon discovered that the "Florijn" flat that we sought was not one, but several, huge apartment complexes. This meant stopping to ask at least five different people for directions. It was very exciting to get there at last; I found it interesting that they chose to use an apartment as the primary location for the project, which is spread throughout the area.

It was disappointing that Surasi Kusolwong, a Bangkok artist who was supposed to be there that evening, was unable to come (visa and financial problems were mentioned). They did have a Mexican artist there, Gustavo Artigas, and they showed his video art called "The Stumble Project." I must say that I was not too excited by this -- sometimes I like video art, sometimes I don't, and this one was just a so-so in my book. What surprised me was that two of the curators praised his project because it was supposedly one that really focused on the people of the area. Artigas collaborated with the people of the community, but unfortunately what I saw did not really reflect that. The video-taped area consisted of a square drain-thingy in the concrete that had dirt in it, and it was uneven and therefore could easily make people stumble (hence the name). People's lower bodies were filmed as they walked or ran by, some of them seemingly tripping on purpose. To me, this could have been in so many places of the world; its "universal" feel actually reminded me of a Coca-Cola commercial. I thought that the film would have been localized by his collaboration with the people, but it did not seem this way after all. I think part of the reason for its de-localization is because the heads of the people are not shown. There is also little sound, with Dutch not being recognizable. Perhaps this was a project that did "represent" the community at the time because its people are, after all, the bodies within it. It is a shame, though, that its filming process localization could not have been preserved in the end product.

The main event of this Go Between evening was a discussion, part of which we missed due to our late arrival. The debates over how to reach / satisfy certain audiences and over art versus momument were not really my thing; this curatorial realm is just a bit too nitpicky for me. However, I was all ears (and suppressed laughs) during an interesting, quintessential, mock "encounter with the Other" which took place in the middle of the dialogue. While the Dutch curators and random art industry people were less than respectful to one another (their discussion was replete with interruptions, accusations, and general butting-in), their attitude, and even tone of voice, changed when trying to bring the "foreigners" into the debate. A couple of them looked toward some members of the Chinese art industry who were there exploring the project, stating super sweetly that they would love to hear their thoughts. During all of the time-consuming translation process, broken English, and blank spells for thinking, the Dutch discussion leaders were very respectful and quiet. This went on for quite awhile -- apparently it is more interesting to hear the opinions of "Other" others as opposed to others from your own culture.

The Go Between project did not get a good review in the Volkskrant's article, which argued that they put their party organizing before the community members. I wouldn't say that, but I do know that they will be having two sheep roasted this weekend at a party. The curators even saw the slaughtering of the sheep, so at least they paid attention to the animal members of the community. But seriously, from their discussion, I do believe they attempted to immerse themselves in the community and to engage community interests, but this is always a challenge in the field of art.

Always a new thing to see in A'dam...

Just when you think you've seen just about everything possible going down the canals in Amsterdam, you see something new. I have wondered for awhile now if it was permissable to kayak down the canals, and now I see that it must be. These people seemed to be enjoying themselves kayaking in the dead center of the city, on the Singelgracht near the Spui square.

Meer Groen!

I have decided that after the ubiquitous orange, the second favorite color of the Dutch population at-large would have to be green. They don't exactly have very much green-ery and green-space in the cities, but they sure like to talk about it (my neighbor is not alone).

"Meer groen" (more greenery) is a common phrase you'll hear if you happen to be bored enough to watch the local channels on television which show interviews with folks in various Amsterdam neighborhoods. Along with "hondenpoep op de stoep" (dog poop on the sidewalk), "not enough greenspace" is a favorite complaint of residents. This is after all a place in which the GroenLinks party has a real voice, greenhouses abound, and biologisch(organic) food stores are popular with professionals.

So I wasn't really surprised when while passing by the Elandsgracht the other day, I saw some bushes sitting in a row on the side of the Prinsengracht. They came with the sign "Meer groen in de Jordaan." I'm not sure if this statement is asking the government to pull up the stones from the ground along the canals so they could actually plant bushes, or for more people to put potted plants outside their doors. Probably a combination of both, because from what I've seen, people here don't wait on this extremely slow government to take action.

Frustrated City Gardeners

At first, when I saw a lady who lives across the street carrying pot after pot of flowers to be arranged outside her door, I thought "Poor thing, she misses green space. She needs a schooltuin." After a couple more days, I felt like joining her.

This gal's horde of flowers (and thus her self) have been getting plenty of attention from the neighbors, some of whom I never even noticed in the winter. Multiple people have been stopping to chat with her about the flower set-up, which is certainly not a normal occurence around these parts. Saying hello is definitely not the Amsterdam standard.

These friendly folk who are chatting up my neighbor include a cute guy (perhaps wearing the hot pink thong for bending over and two-inch heel boots is not impractical after all...). This guy was even sweeping up for her during an intermission from his reading on a bench.

Unfortunately, I live on the first floor of my building (which is the second floor in the U.S.). Otherwise, I might consider starting my own urban garden -- they seem to have a "kindness" effect.

bar CHURCH hopping

Since I'm starting this blog on Friday the 13th, I thought I'd ward off any bad luck that could ensue by talking about my recent foray into Amsterdam's "church culture" last week. Yes, that's right. Church, in Amsterdam. I'm not talking about the Nieuwe Kerk which is now a museum, or the Oude Kerk which is a tourist venue, but real church services in a city in which supposedly people no longer go to church.

Well, most Amsterdammers may not go to church regularly now (at least compared to the 3 times a week that was my schedule as a child -- BEAT YA!), but they certainly show marked enthusiasm for the holy week tradition. Especially for Bach's music, such as the Matthaus Passion, which was performed in the Concertgebouw. My purse strings were a bit too tight to make it to the fancy Concertgebouw, so I saw the Johannes Passion in the good 'ole Westerkerk. I can always count on it for high-quality free concerts. I was shocked to find the place filled. My friend and I were barely allowed inside; there was a posted capacity of 1,500 people. Aside from the dragging opening and closing participatory hymns of six and seven verses respectively (in Dutch), the actual performance was beautiful. And despite the amount of people in the audience, the atmosphere was quiet and reverent. Perhaps this was because of the average age of the attendees...

Shift the scene to Easter Sunday in the St. Nicolas Kerk. The mass at 1:00 is in Spanish and generally serves the Spanish and Latin-American residents of the city. It, too, was packed. It, however, had a significant population under the age of twelve. In fact, the children had a role in the service, carrying flowers, lighting candles, and reading passages. Needless to say, the atmosphere was a bit less quiet than in the Westerkerk, what with little kids trying to climb onto the platform with the priest. It worked for me, though, since I couldn't understand much of the Spanish anyway!

It was very interesting to see some Amsterdammers in these religious contexts. I would do it more often, but with spring here, the parks are the place to people-watch on Sundays :)

WHY? (as in, what I am trying to do here with this spot of webspace)

After living in Amsterdam for almost two years, I'm starting to get nostalgic about this place, knowing that I will be leaving in a few months. There have been ups and downs of course, but overall it has been a very interesting cultural experience (this is a people-watcher's haven, after all!). I wonder if there are some thoughts about my life here that I will regret not recording. To avoid that horrible, disastrous, life-threatening occurence, I am turning to blogging to help out. I'm writing my master's thesis at the same time, so I am uncertain just how much I will blog. We'll just have to see. As for me, I'm from Georgia -- the Georgia that's a state. I always think it'd be cool to answer such inquries with "Yes, Georgia as in the 'exotic' nation", but alas!