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I'm writing this from our very nice apartment in the
Jordaan district of Amsterdam. We've been here for just over 24 hours,
and, man, is it a switch from Norway. More on that (and other things
Amsterdamned) in a minute.
Bergen and Oslo, July 29-31
The end of our stay in Norway saw a vast improvement in the weather. I
haven't gone into it before, but after the sun shone the second day we were
in Oslo, the cloud cover came in and didn't lift until the 30th. And,
I'm sorry, but it was just weird how much like Seattle it all
was. We kept poking each other and saying, "Oh, thank god we flew
halfway around the world." When we found the totem pole in Bergen
(a gift from Seattle), I pretty much just lost it. Anyway, we returned
to Oslo from Bergen via a much more straightforward route than we
came--only one train was involved, and it was SWANK. Because we
dilly-dallied about making train reservations, the only option open to
us on the day we had to travel was this super-duper first-class section that cost us about $20 each
over our train pass. We had seats that stretched out into luxurious
chaise lounges and well-made wool Berger blankets to keep us warm and
cozy. Also, free fruit! The sun shone the whole 8-hour trip, and we could really see why
this route is reputed to be one of the most beautiful train rides in the
world. Between naps, Rob got in a few pictures.
Our final full day in Oslo was pretty lazy--the
Decorative Arts museum was closed, so we just sort of hung out and then
returned to Frogner Park at sunset. That place is truly jaw-droppingly
gorgeous. I would even recommend anyone take a journey to Oslo just to
see it. Rob took even more pictures, and might have stayed all night if
not for the tyranny of my stomach and blood sugar.
After I made my observations about Norwegian children a
little while back, I happened to read an article in Salon blasting
organizations for non-parents that lobby for equality in the workplace.
Like, if Hortense in Research and Development gets a twelve-week
vacation to have a baby, Mortimer, a non-parent in Accounting should get
a twelve-week vacation to go skiing or whatever. Otherwise, it's just
not fair. It isn't Mortimer's fault that Hortense chose to have a child,
so why should Mortimer be denied the benefit? There was a letter in
response extolling the virtues of the European attitude towards children
in comparison to that of Americans. While it is true that children are
remarkably welcome in most areas of daily life, have many accommodations
made to them (such as special train cars with jungle gyms), I'd like to
point out that I've witnessed a number of parental actions in Norway and
Amsterdam that in America would have Child Protective Services out in a
nanosecond:
-smoking in front of children
-allowing a one-year-old clad only in a diaper
to wander 20 yards down a busy street unaccompanied
-pushing a baby stroller (with a baby in it)
into the street to stop a moving vehicle
-allowing a child to eat an ice cream bar in
the shape of a Manchester United football player
I'm not passing judgment here, I'm only saying.
Amsterdam, August 1-2
We flew to Amsterdam on Tuesday, where we took up residence in an
apartment rented to us by one Mr. Eugene van der Schoot, a high-school
biology teacher and textbook author. Once we arrived, Rob ran out to
find an ATM so we could pay the rental fee, leaving me alone with Mr.
van der Schoot. He was a very nice man, but extremely nervous. He was
obviously worried about leaving his home to strangers, first of all, and
uncomfortable having to interact one-on-one with me. We later found a
book on anxiety and panic disorders on the bookshelf, which may or may
not be a coincidence. His English was limited, and, well, I guess we
know the story about me and Dutch (so far I've figured out "thank
you," "cheese," "beer," and
"toilet"). I had to sign a rental agreement in Dutch which
said--if I was to believe Mr. van der Schoot, and I don't see what
choice I had--that we will reside here at our own risk, that we will be
responsible for any damage, that we will not light candles in the house,
and that we will not use drugs in the house. He seemed particularly
nervous on that point, and this is where the language barrier caused
some, um, fun. In my haste to assure him that we wouldn't be using drugs
in his house and to generally relate that we are decent, responsible,
hardworking folk ourselves, I accidentally managed to leave him with the
impression that not only was our attraction to Amsterdam NOT the easy
availability of cannabis products, but that I had, in fact, NEVER HEARD
that people come to Amsterdam with that aim. That, even though I had
been here once as a student and my husband several times, the fact that
marijuana use is tolerated by the authorities and publicly enjoyed by
many residents and tourists had somehow managed to elude me entirely.
That I was really, really surprised by this bit of information, and
maybe sort of didn't entirely believe him. Please don't ask me how this
happened--let's just say that by the time I realized what was happening,
it was way too late.
So far, we are enjoying our stay here immensely. While
Oslo was beautiful and sophisticated in many ways, there is much more
happening here. The people are much more diverse (racially,
economically, and almost every other way you can imagine), street life
is far more active. You really have to be careful navigating the streets
here--in Oslo, the sidewalks were immense, and everyone obeyed traffic
rules (our Seattle approach to street crossing stood us in very good
stead there). Here, you have these teeny-tiny little sidewalks, hordes
of bicyclists with the right-of-way, and taxi drivers who just do NOT
give a rat's ass. It's a change of pace for us, but I am sure we'll
relax into it in no time.
On a sad note, my grandfather's wife Mabel died a few
days ago. She was very elderly, but her death was pretty sudden. My
heart goes out to my grandfather--Mabel wasn't always the easiest person,
but he really depended upon her, especially in recent years
when his health has deteriorated. My brother tells me that Grandpa is really
sad and tired and afraid of being alone. My heart also goes out to the
rest of my family, who are going to have to help him through this
difficult time and probably make some even more difficult decisions in the months
ahead. Grandpa, Dad, Linda, Emily, Jeremy, Toni, Richard, Catherine, and
Zachary, I love you--take care of yourselves.
More soon as we pry open the oyster that is Amsterdam.
--Lisa
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Norway eller (or) Seattle?
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Amsterdam, Netherlands
