Headlines today include a drill reaching Chilean miners trapped in a mine for the last two months, a British woman killed by kidnappers in Afghanistan, fury over a book by Bob Woodward from the National Security Advisor who recently resigned over reports of being "out of step" with President Obama's top advisors, kids texting to buy marijuana in Montana get a wrong number and text their request to the local sheriff, and the handle on the cold water tap of my bathroom sink fell off. The last one hasn't made it to the papers yet but there has been a work order submitted by hotel officials.
Here are some things I have learned or experienced while in Amsterdam. The city, by fable, was initially a small church outpost in the Middle Ages. As conveyed in the Amsterdam History Museum a gentleman vomited after receiving the eucharist at mass sometime between 1200 and 1300. The emesis was scooped into a fire still containing the eucharist but the eucharist didn't burn. This was perceived as a miracle and people started to make pilgrimages to what is now Amsterdam, the dam on the river Amstel. The city grew under the watchful eye of the Catholic church until the Reformation occurred and Protestants overthrew the city leadership. It became a conservative center of commerce, Dutch Reform was hatched. But it remained a city of religious tolerance since this was good for business, so Catholics and Jews could stay as long as they didn't worship in public. Small churches and synagogues remain in hidden places.
The city developed although it was soggy as it is at or below sea level. Canals were dug and the soil from the canals were used to raise the level of the habitable parts of the city. So there are many homes and businesses along canals. This makes for a beautiful city. Bikes abound since it is flat but crowded. Cars are allowed but they don't seem practicle. Bicyclists include businessmen in suits and fashionable women riding with straight backs often on cell phones, like Americans use cell phones in their cars. It's a very quiet city with near accidents between bicyclists occurring regularly but no one gets bent out of shape, they just repel each other silently with their narrow force fields of bicycle space and ride on--astounding! But not all accidents are avoided. There was an article in one of the local papers of how the dentistry community thrives on patients with teeth chipped or knocked out in bicycle accidents. I imagine these accidents occurring in silence, or maybe just the clank of bicycle parts meshing: no swearing or angry exchanges. Be mellow and happy and kind and friendly...this seems to be the respectable credo of the city. I enjoyed seeing families happy together, out in the public squares and eating at restaurants together. Friends giving presents and laughing amongst themselves. There is a softness here, nothing bawdy.
But there's no Eiffel Tower, Houses of Parliament, Empire State Building, Golden Gate Bridge or Space Needle. There doesn't seem to be an icon of the city. Yet there are many beautiful old buildings including the RijksMuseum where the paintings of the Dutch masters are housed. Paintings from the Golden Age of Holland, the 17th Century. A time when not only were the Dutch ruling the seas and business (Dutch East India Company...) around the world but the great landscape artists and portrait masters like Rembrandt were high on their craft.
Van Gogh was Dutch and after a religious transformation felt it was his calling at the age of 26 to become an artist. He tried preaching in a mining town of Belgium for awhile but thought painting more his style. He lived in the Neatherlands, Paris, Arles in the south of France and eventually in an insane asylum. He then shot himself in the chest. He was said to have a "seizure disorder" but after cutting his own ear off and trying to knife Gauguin seizures seem an unlikely explanation for his behavior, unless partial complex seizures were occurring. It seems more likely that, at his age, he had developed paranoia or schizophrenia, or both. Creativity and mental health problems seem to coincide. Despite his health problems Van Gogh seemed very talented and the Van Gogh Museum had a great display.
Last night I spent a night on the town. The evening started at a pub in a square on Spuistraat. I sat with some older Amsterdamers(?) watching a group of youngsters get wasted while wearing some very bad Oktoberfest outfits. The real Oktoberfest ended last week but they were not detered, and indeed seemed quite proud of their Oktoberfest tardiness. Then I went to a restaurant where I had the pleasure of eating a meal with a very friendly and spirited family from Belgium. Mom ran a law business, her daughter was in law school and her son was a film student. We talked history and travel. There was no mention of Oktoberfest since no one else in the city, including them, cared...not like those kids at the pub.
Tomorrow I'm off to Berlin. I'm thinking of my Mom who is sick again and feeling weak. But she remains spirited. I think I got my interest in travel predominantly from her. My Dad gave me medicine, and they both gave me a love of discovery.
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