Earworms, Bluebirds & a Lion Man

I am on the back of a bike. The metal bars meant to hold a package, purse or bag of groceries, is painfully digging into my rear end. I'm in a delicate state of balance. The tips of my toes are on the short bar that runs horizontally to connect to the axel of the back wheel. One slip and my toes will jam into the spokes. Even though I can't see what direction we're heading I anticipate the turns and stops by memory. In about half a minute we'll reach the end of the bridge and have to stop. The light at the intersection is rarely green whenever we pass through. I know we look completely absurd and when I'm not terrified about falling off, getting my toes stuck in the wheel, or loosing my balance, I'm giggling uncontrollably. Because I'm also balancing between two states of hysteria. I have a song stuck in my head and Annina explains to me, over her shoulder and she pedals us forward, the expression Germans use for such occurrences: earworm.

Taken August 2010, my adventure in Brussels. I took pictures of this couple being cute together on their bikes before walking past them later being street musicians near Manneken Pis. See that little rack on which the pack of water bottles sit? That is where I would perch when riding on Annina's bike.

That was last year. Sometime in the fall. In Amsterdam. With my dearest au pair friend. Only recently has a certain nostalgia for aspects of my life in the Netherlands begun to make an appearance. It usually materializes in my thoughts when I'm not really thinking. When I feel mindless. Going through the motions of something I could probably do with my eyes shut if I could. (But I wouldn't because most of those occasions are when I'm driving home from somewhere.)

My list-making self should probably start making a list of the things I realize I miss. But I probably won't and instead I have a trick that works much better than that. I save playlists. If I don't blog about something, take a picture, or make allusions in my journal, there isn't really a place for certain moments, experiences, or emotions to exist except in my memory. And memories fade, change, and sometimes disappear all together. I still remember learning about an earworm and in that memory lies the exposition of this post.

I make and save playlists for nearly everything. I have a playlist from when I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for the first time. One song per chapter. If I run out of ideas for titles I'll just date it. So, the one titled "4-20" really refers to the fact that I happened to compile it on the 20th day of April and, despite what you might think, has no other association to the number arrangement. I have a playlist of songs I like listening to from back in the day when I was obsessed with playing The Sims. I have one that would be the soundtrack if I was a character in Skins. But mostly it goes by seasons, or months, and years. Here is collection of songs from the playlists I created in Holland. These are not all the songs that hold memories or were frequently blaring from my Macbook speakers or iPod headphones. These are just the ones that when I listen to now still have a overpowering orange flavor. Or an orange after taste. Or an orange spice, if even for just an instant. Orange for Holland, of course.





"Black River" by Amos Lee
When I visited Västerås I made it a point not to listen to music while I was there. (The train ride to/from Stockholm being the exception) so that the memories would seep into me and my soul in a different (and hopefully deeper) way. But when the week was over I found songs that somehow corresponded to my trips. The river that runs through Västerås, which I walked by a few times on Kulturnatt and after yoga in the castle, is called the Black River.

"Where Do My Bluebirds Fly" by The Tallest Man on Earth
The Tallest Man on Earth, aka: Kristian Matsson, is from Dalarna, Sweden. (Which is where the branches from my mother's side of the family and my father's side of the family originated at some point.) I downloaded all of his albums and EPs literally as soon as I got back to Holland from Sweden. And I listened to him every chance I got for something like two weeks straight. I don't want to say I was obsessed because that makes it seem like I'm crazy but maybe I am. I'm still pretty crazy about him. Have you ever discovered a musician and just felt so deeply connected to them and what they were singing that it was like you've known them and been listening to them your entire life? Yeah, that is how I feel about him in a nutshell. Like we were meant to be. Him, my headphones, and my heart. I listened to this particular song on repeat for hours one night while journaling about the transformation I felt happening in my soul.

"Cocaine Lights" by Phosphorescent
I listened to this song as the train back to Purmerend pulled away from Centraal Station at 12:09am on October 17th. The first two stanzas seemed perfectly timed for how I felt then. I was thinking of how much I missed BFF Brandy. The line "to be less of meat and stone / And more of feather" especially because I will never forget the time she asked me when we were probably only 14 what it would be like if we had feathers instead of skin. And Pablo Neruda's (a poet we both fell in love with on the same day in a book store in Kansas when we were again probably about 14) "Love, We're Going Home Now" is one of our favorites because we often feel like two blind birds about two blind birds searching for our homes. That October night one of the fellow au pairs I had become friends with was going home to Spain and I realized then that I would eventually being saying good bye to all the girls I spent every weekend with and almost every day Facebooking. Somehow, that night was when it finally set-in that the places in my life were not the only factors that shaped me but the people as well. It made me realize that there are so many people who you encounter and befriend. They mean something to you at some point in your life. And then life goes on. People are constantly passing through our lives. Annina walked me to the train station that night, all the way up to my platform, because that is what we do. We always walked each other to our departure points. Leaving goodbye-until-next-time for the very last moment. That was also the night I rode my bike back to the village in the dark for the first time and the cocaine lights kept me warm.

"Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Sons
I had downloaded a free Tap Tap Revenge app on my iPod and played it to pass the time away while waiting for the train. This was the only free song on there that I liked. I think I played it at least 100 times and got all the way up to the most difficult level. I can't listen to this song now and not twitch my fingers to the guitar chords.

"Big Bird in a Small Cage" by Patrick Watson
This goes a long with the bird stuff in the explanation of "Cocaine Lights." I also feel like it belongs in the soundtrack to my entire life, not just my life in Holland. The meaning is fairly easy to grasp.

In which this tale's heroine fails miserably at being the heroine

My neglect of this blog is embarrassing and really has no excuse. I don't think even the most sincere apology will be sufficient. For the past few days I haven't had access to wifi at home so I'm scrounging some off at Panera. My dearest reader, there is so much I need and want to tell you but I just don't have the time right now. Until I get my wifi fixed here is a little follow up.

Hagelslag
Remember those messy but delicious sprinkles that are a staple of the Dutch lunch? I bought a box from World Market. I have a love-hate relationship with this particular delicacy. For all the times I had to spend sweeping them from the kitchen in Holland and wiping down the children vigorously only to find them scattered about regardless, I still caved in a bought some because I suppose, in a way, I have missed them. The sprinkles that is. The children I'll address in another post.

Paul
Remember Paul, my family's foreign exchange student last summer? He stayed in my room while I was in Holland and when I got back, aside from leaving some shopping bags hidden in a corner, he also forgot some French newspapers on the floor by my bed. I've kept them.



Gifts
Remember the gifts from abroad I was excited about giving people? They've all been distributed and I think everyone liked them.


Anne Frank
Remember when I visited the secret hideaway in Amsterdam with my friend Caitlyn? And how much admiration I have for Anne? I'm volunteering now at the Georgia Commissions for the Holocaust's Anne Frank Around the World Exhibit. It makes me very happy to be able to hang out with Anne a few hours every week.

Yoga
Remember that one time I used getting back into yoga as a metaphor for adjusting after time abroad? Well, I still haven't mastered the headstand yet. I'm closer every practice. But I just wanted to fix a little case of mistaken identity. The instructor who I referred to as Glenn in that post is actually Jason. Glenn teaches on Thursday evenings and he is very different from Jason.

Sweden
Remember that one time I stayed with my wonderful relatives in Sweden? Well, I still carry that with me every day and it is a part of who I am. There is a wonderful blog, The Modern Viking Vixen: A Foreigner's Guide to American Survival, written by a Norwegian living in L.A. She is by far one of my favorite bloggers. And if you're reading this blog then you should be reading hers. I'm still flattered and honored to have been featured in one of her Motivational Monday posts. Check it out!

If you go when the snowflakes storm

Last night I got down to business and started packing. Right now I have designated areas for each suitcase, which means my room is messier than usual. I found a pile of used train tickets and some cash in three different currencies. That made me laugh. I also went through all the letters, cards, and postcards people have sent me. That made me smile.




I'm making lists again. I have two sets: an inventory of gifts for people and things to-do/pack. They're hanging from one of the desk shelves, right below the National Geographic picture-a-day calender. Botswana, Bermuda, Sicily, and other places around the world. It has been on July 1st this whole time because it is a picture of Minnesota.



My original plan for today was to go to Den Haag but Holland was hit with some major snow yesterday. So, not all the trains are running today. Plan B - continue packing, fill out applications online, update Shutterfly, clean out iTunes, and make a music playlist for the plane ride home. In the meantime, here are a few videos from my two most recent adventures in Amsterdam.

"Kids" Dam Square 12/11/10 from missemalise on Vimeo.

Dam Square clips 12/11/10 from missemalise on Vimeo.

Funky Monkeys from missemalise on Vimeo.

Adventure in Amsterdam - 12.11.10

Although I was tempted to take the tram because of the cold I decided to spend my day walking instead. It ended up being a good decision because it was the best day I've spent in Amsterdam. Lately, I've been very conscious, once again, about memory. All these new memories I've made seem to bring old memories with them. "I saw this and it reminded me of you..." is a phrase I've used often here. I've also started going back and reading my previous blog entries. This part astounded me: "It is funny sometimes how things tend to come full circle....Now you can see how all these memories of mine are connected in their own strange way. Or in my mind, at least. I'm going to keep making lists and I'm going to keep remembering. In less than a week, after I step onto that plane destined for Amsterdam, I'll have new memories to share with you. I hope you're ready." So, I've been sharing all sorts of experiences with you but everyone has baggage. I try my best to live in the present moment and not dwell on the past or think too much about the future. But every place I've been and every person I've met is part of me. I carry it all with me. So, I hope you don't mind the times I have (and will) share old memories alongside new ones. Everything is connected, you know.

Walking towards Amstel and Waterlooplein
I knew it was one of my last times in the city, so I made it a point to notice all sorts of charming details. That made it hard for me to get through the flea market at Waterloo without buying a few things. I made away with some excellent purchases but I can't tell you about them because they're Christmas-sensitive items.







Alexander the Great at The Hermitage
I'd seen posters for this exhibit at the train station in Purmerend a few weeks ago and since then I'd been aching to go. Partly because I hadn't been to the Hermitage yet but mostly because I love Alexander. It was the best Classics centered exhibit I have ever seen. It was very well organized and provided a portrait of Alexander from his lifetime and beyond. Cameras were not allowed inside and I forgot to bring in my little notebook to record facts, realizations, and favorites. At first, without my usual pen and paper, I felt so naked but I enjoyed moving from artifact to artifact without stopping. Everything in the exhibit belongs to The Hermitage's permanent collection in St. Petersburg. It was structured thus: introduction/cultural context, areas conquered, legacy, portrait, and influence on European monarchies (specifically Russia's Catherine the Great.)


"This episode from the history of Alexander the Great comes from Plutarch. During a siege of a fortress in Bactria, the eastern part of the Persian state of Darius III, Roxane - daughter of a Bactrian satrap or nobleman - was captured. In an effort to gain the support of the Persian aristocracy, Alexander married her. Rotari here shows Alexander's meeting with Roxane, who is surrounded by weeping slaves and stands modestly before the amazed military commander."Image and Caption Source

It opened with this painting by Pietro Rotari (Italy, 1756). From this moment onward I was full of passion. It may sound silly but tears began to pull behind my eyes because I suddenly felt so much. I always tend to become rather tender in the face of art and history, but even more so when it comes to certain eras or figures. Alexander, of course is one. I felt the sweet weight of memory. I remembered learning about him for the first time in elementary school and proposing that when Owen was born his middle name be that of the great Macedonian. Then I remembered the Greek History class at Gustavus in the fall of my sophomore year. Reading about him. Writing about him. Discussing his cultural influence and his legacy. Study sessions with some of my favorite friends. Honestly, it was one of the best classes I ever took. Mostly because of the ladies in it with me but also because of it being about Ancient Greece.


Study guide timeline - Democracy (?)

It was like I was visiting an old friend for the afternoon. If you don't know much about Alexander and are interested in learning more or exploring the exhibit digitally, the exhibit's website is very informative. Read an introduction here and check out the highlights here. For me, the highlights included: engraving's of Charles Le Brun's paintings of Alexander's life for King Louis XIV's palace, a wood relief based on Le Brun for Catherine the Great's lover, Italian armor from the 16th century depicting the Greek heroes Alexander admired, Scythian burial artifacts, Indian busts of Buddha depicting the influence of the Greek "wet look," Russian cameos of the Trojan heroes commissioned by Catherine the Great. I was very pleased that the cameo collection also included woman such as Iphigenia and Cassandra.

Many European monarchs tried to emulate Alexander. Catherine the Great had an instruction book created for her grandsons, Constantine and Alexander, based on events from Alexander the Great's life. I found it most interesting that even in Venice, a staunch republic, Alexander was revered not for his kingly greatness but for his humanity and good deeds. No matter how history represents him there is no denying that he should be counted as one of the most important figures of the Western world. Perhaps even the greatest.






Music in Dam Square
One of my favorite aspects of my European travels is the street music. Every city I've been to has musicians playing in public, guitar cases open for coins. Dam Square almost always has someone playing on the weekends. One night, while passing through with friends, I heard James O'Reilly singing. The weekend Caitlynn was here we listened to Giovanni Bassano and his guitar for a bit. I was impressed both times and then on this particular adventure into Amsterdam I was lucky enough to catch them together. Giovanni on guitar and James singing. You can easily guess what their home countries are and that I'm more than a little bit in love with them both. Both countries and both musicians, that is. They played in the afternoon and again later in the evening. I stood in the crowd both times taking pictures and video. A little boy was in complete awe and refused to be part of the audience. He wanted to stand close and no matter how many times his mom called him over or his father tried to guide him back to his buggy, he wouldn't budge. I bought James' CD and have been swooning every time I've listened to it this week.

Old Saint Nick is older than you think

Last weekend when I returned from Amsterdam I found that the Christmas tree was up in the living room and remnants of Sinterklaas' and Zwarte Piet's surprises stored in my room.



I've been doing some research about how the Dutch celebrate Christmas and I really like what I discovered. I hope you're ready for a little history lesson because this particular holiday is a wonderful blend of Holland and the United States...

Sinterklaas. Saint Nicholas. Nicolas of Myra. Patron saint of children, sailors, and Amsterdam.
He was born in Patara (part of modern Turkey) during the third century. He came from a wealthy family but he gave his time and money to helping the poor. He died on December 6th, 347 A.D. He is commemorated on that date. He lives in Spain and comes to the Netherlands by boat in mid-November. Between then and December 6th he makes appearances throughout the country with his helper(s), Zwarte Piet(en). He keeps a very clean schedule so as not to appear in two places at once. Then, on the eve of his death, children put out their shoes with a carrot for his white horse. Sinterklaas leaves treats and gifts behind for the children. However, he kidnaps those who have had bad behavior.

Although the Dutch adapted the saint and created a tradition based on the legend, Sinterklaas isn't entirely a Dutch invention. Many elements of the story and celebration can be traced to pagan aspects. The Germanic pagan god, Wolden/Odin, rode a white horse and was honored during the Winter Solstice. Children originally left carrots for his steed near the chimney. Odin rewarded their kindness by leaving fruit or treats.

Sinterklaas was brought to America before it was officially the United States. Dutch settlers established a town called New Amsterdam in 1626. Although the city was founded by Protestants it awarded its inhabitants the freedom of religion. Catholics and Protestants alike adopted Saint Nicholas as the city's patron. In 1664, when it was captured by the English, the celebration of Nicholas was mentioned in the Articles of Capitulation. New Amsterdam became New York and for awhile the religious rights were only celebrated in the Dutch communities. In order to promote New York as a unique city with a unique identity, Washington Irving presented Sinterklaas as the patron saint of the city in his 1809 publication, The History of New York. The influence of Dutch culture in New York set it apart from other American cities.

While the United States continued to establish it's own identity, Clement Clarke Moore wrote the poem "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" in 1823. Sinterklaas became Saint Nick. He traveled by a reindeer drawn sleigh (not on a white horse), carried a bag of toys (not full of sweets), and slid down chimneys. He resembled an elf but forty years later his "Old World" appearance was shed for the figure we know today. In 1863 the political cartoonist Thomas Nast presented him as Santa Claus, a large and bearded old man from the North Pole who wears a fur-trimmed hat and red suit. At first Santa made the toys himself in his workshop with the help of his elves but as the U.S. became industrialized so did he. And as the U.S. became more capitalized, Santa was brought along for the ride. During the Great Depression, Coca Cola created an advertising campaign based on Santa. He continued to transform with American popular culture. Gene Autry released the song "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" in 1948 and so a niche in the music industry was created for songs revolving around Santa. At some point after WWII, with the baby boom and rise of the nuclear family, someone invented Mrs. Claus - a pleasant housewife - to take care of Santa and keep him from being lonely. It certainly helped promote him as a grandfather-like icon. A hardworking man who thoroughly enjoyed his leisure time by smoking his pipe and eating. But Santa never takes life too seriously. He is young at heart and loves all the little children. Instead of kidnapping misbehaved boys and girls like his Dutch ancestor, Santa Claus leaves lumps of coal which could actually be somewhat useful. Instead of leaving treats in shoes, his gifts go in stockings pinned to the fireplace.

In November, when Sinterklaas arrived here in the village on his boat from Spain my first impression was mixed. He looks very dignified in his bishop's robes and he carries himself in a very noble manner, but I couldn't get the image of the fat and funny Santa Claus out of my mind. Zwarte Piet, though much more approachable and happy, put me off a little too because the costume consists of black face paint, an afro wig, and red lips. And he, not Sinerklaas, is the one who does all the work. Like a slave. I instantly thought of American "blackface" theater, the Jim Crow era, and terrible slurs such as "darky" and "coon." I tried not to be offended, remembering that cultural offenses are often rooted in misunderstanding, so I waited to pass judgement based on my American outlook. It turns out I'm not the only one to have this sort of reaction.


Video originally seen on Clogs and Tulips: Six to Eight Black Men. Go to the post for more about Zwarte Piet.

Most American tourists feel the exact same culture shock. I mean, I don't think I've used the phrase "culture shock" once when talking about my experiences in Holland. And I was in no way surprised to discover that Santa Claus comes from Sinterklaas. In the past ten years or so the character of Zwarte Piet has received criticism from the Dutch and in 2006 the Dutch Programme Foundation proposed that Zwarte Piet (which literally means "black Pete") be changed to rainbow-colored Pieten. The experiment only lasted one year. I also read that his skin-color was due to the fact that he spent most of his time going up and down chimneys so he was covered in soot. But I don't buy it.

When my friend Caitlynn visited, she had the same reaction when I explained the story of the Dutch Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet. The last day I was able to stay with her in Amsterdam was December 5th so there were Zwarte Pieten all over. She was eager to take pictures, only to bring it back as proof that the Dutch really do paint themselves black and dance around passing out candy for Christmas. But at this record store near Dam Square they were handing out coffee, which I much prefer.




Also, I must admit that I prefer the American Santa Claus to the Dutch Sinterklaas. But, I truly have enjoyed celebrating and learning about this particular Dutch tradition. Who doesn't like getting free chocolate? All of this is not to say that Santa Claus is perfect. He can be weird and somewhat unsettling. I know it is friendly to sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas when you're a kid but that is a bit strange. Just see this collection of pictures as proof.




Sources: Saint Nicholas, Sinterklaas, Santa Claus - From Sinterklaas to Santa Claus - American Santa Claus: Santa’s USA Timeline - Wikipedia: Zwarte Piet

Extra Special Adventure in Amsterdam 12.03.2010-12.05.2010

One of my favorite friends from high school, Caitlyn, visited Amsterdam this weekend. We hadn't seen each other since the Christmas of 2008, just before my family moved from Kansas to Georgia. Just before my time in India and about a year before Italy. Well, she arrived on Thursday and left Monday afternoon. I joined her Friday evening and left Sunday night. We stayed together at a hostel near Central Station, in a 20 bed mixed dorm full of boys. It smelled like dirty socks but we didn't mind too much. We were reunited in Amsterdam, of all places. She is currently an au pair in Italy. She also studied abroad in Florence but the semester before I was there. Deep down I think I always knew we'd meet up somewhere in Europe. And we did. And it was grand.



Thanksgiving Break 2008 - Back in the day when I dyed my hair dark. Going back to my natural blonde took a whole year after Italy.

Random Moments for those too lazy to read the full account
-Almost falling on our arses behind Westerkerk when we turned around to head back after seeing a long line at the Anne Frank House. It turns out that instead of a sidewalk beneath the snow it was all granite. Who in the world does that?
-Witnessing a guy pass out in the middle of a pizzeria. He was just standing there, on his way out, and suddenly fell. Completely unconscious with no apparent cause (though it isn't hard to guess why.) I don't think we moved an inch or took one breath from the moment he hit the floor to the moment his friend finally slapped him back to reality. Does that count as a near death experience?
-Listening to Giovanni Bassano sing and play guitar in Dam Square Sunday night. Some random guy came up and hugged Caitlyn. All weekend she had the hardest time finding her wallet in her purse when she reached the check-out but this time, to make sure he hadn't pick-pocketed her, it was the first thing she grabbed.
-Eavesdropping on a phone conversation a guy was having on the tram. "It is Filipe from Brazil! How are you, man!? It is so good to hear from you!" He really couldn't believe that Filipe was calling him from Brazil.
-Having a deep discussion in the hostel about the characters on True Blood and how the tv show differs from the books, which I haven't read yet but Caitlyn has.
-Swapping stories about everything and everyone imaginable. While walking in the cold or waiting in line or snuggled in the hostel or eating at Wok To Go. That is where we went Friday night and that is when the real talking and catching-up started.
-Movie quotes. Caitlyn is the only person I know who can rattle off any line from almost any movie at any given moment. I think the most quoted movie this weekend was 500 Days of Summer. "We're young. We live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Might as well have fun while we can and save the serious stuff for later."


Please click the link below for the full entry..

Adventure in Amsterdam - 11.27.2010

This was a very brief adventure to Amsterdam. It started snowing in the morning but I hopped on my bike, determined to brave the cold and get into the city. I had plans to meet with a friend and go shopping. I scouted some souvenirs to bring back for friends and family. I wanted to get an idea what to get each person and see the prices. A new H&M store opened in Dam Square so I popped in and bought myself a scarf. At the check-out I also received a booklet of coupons and a little OV-chipkaart holder that I'm using for my ID and debit card. When I stepped out of the store I heard music blaring, which isn't unusual in Dam Square. Then I noticed a big crowd so I pushed my way to the front and saw people dancing. I witnessed my first ever flashmob in person.

Dam Square Flash Mob 11/27/10 from missemalise on Vimeo.

So, I missed the beginning which is the fun part. Everyone is just standing around and then out of nowhere comes music. The passersby are confused at first. A few people come together and start dancing. The dancers grow and grow until it is a mass of synchronized bodies. A crowd gathers. People take out their phones and cameras. At the end of the song the dancers disperse, back into the crowd and life carries on. I wondered when I'd see one in Amsterdam. I mentioned the Stockholm flash mob once before in this post. Here are some other great flash mobs:

Goedemorgen, winter.

Last night I had a strange dream. A mysterious guy gave me a ride to the train station in a big black SUV with tinted windows. I think he was my bodyguard. My brother, Seth, was waiting there for me. When we got into Amsterdam we got on the wrong tram and had to get off and walk in the opposite direction. Justin Bieber joined us and we made our way towards Rembrandtplein to check in to Hotel Atlanta, which I discovered last weekend. Then I woke up. The clock said 8:10. Why was I up that early on a Saturday? I checked the weather online to make sure it wouldn't snow but I couldn't get back to sleep. Justin Bieber was in my dream. Weird. But not so weird because my other brother, Owen, has hair that looks exactly like that of the teeny bopper icon, except it is not as well conditioned.



I believe this dream has to do with a recent event - I know when I'll be going home. I'll be leaving Holland on December 23rd and arriving in Atlanta late that night. It won't be fun getting crammed in so close to Christmas, especially when my family's plans for the holiday include traveling. The night I booked the flight, Seth and I had a real heart-to-heart on Skype. We ganged up on Owen, telling him to cut his hair or forever face the embarrassment of looking back at his middle school portraits with regret.

Now it is 9:37am. The canal behind the house is frozen. I need to buy some boots. I need to start buying Christmas presents. I have only 3 1/2 weeks left here. Maybe I should get out of bed.

Edit: It is snowing.

Adventure in Amsterdam - 11.20.2010

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1
My main priority this weekend was to see this movie. On Friday night I stayed in Heemstede with my friends and we planned on getting up somewhat early on Saturday to get into Amsterdam to buy tickets for the 5:30pm showing but it is tricky to coordinate everyone. So, just me and two of my friends left around noon to buy the tickets for ourselves and two of the other girls who stayed behind and said they'd meet us later. By the time we got to the cinema all the showings were already sold out. That left us with a lot of time to kill so we ended up exploring some familiar and unfamiliar areas instead. Every time I'd see an advertisement for the movie my heart would break a little bit with disappointment.









However, on Sunday I got up early and went straight back to the cinema by myself in an attempt to get a ticket. At the counter I asked the guy for one ticket to the next showing that isn't sold out. In a burst of good luck he told me that there were two tickets for the 12:15pm showing that someone had left at the counter. It was 12:13pm but I paid and made it up the escalators just in time. I really was very lucky also because my seat assignment was perfect - near the front and in the middle of the row. "I am seeing Harry Potter in Amsterdam," I kept repeating in my head during the previews but once the screen went completely dark and the theme music began to echo a silence came over the whole crowd and I forgot everything. I was in complete awe the entire time. My love for Harry Potter is very deep and I'm not ashamed to say that some tears were shed during those two-and-a-half hours. I'm definitely going to see it again at least once more but I'll probably wait until I'm back in the States so I can go with my younger brother, Owen.

Albert Cuypstrat Market
This is one of the best known and cheapest outdoor markets in Amsterdam. It has stands for everything from food to small electronic items. We passed by it on the tram and we all looked at each other in unison then in an instant decided to jump out on the next stop. We walked through it from beginning to end, stopping to look at jewelry and shoes. Martina and I took advantage of a three hats for 5 euro deal. I picked out two and she picked out one and we split the cost. Estefania bought two purses and at the end we all caved in a ordered some french fries (Vlaamse frites).


Winterland at Rembrandtplein
The second thing we had planned for the day was to go ice skating. We met another group of au pairs, all from Germany, later in the evening at Winterland. It is a little Christmas village with stands for food, some carnival games, and a lot of holiday themed decorations. The rink was small and the ice needed a good cleaning but it was fun to get on the ice and play around for an hour or so. It also made me realize just how long I've been here. Long enough to see the seasons change from days when I'd ride my bike in shorts and a tank top to days when I'd bundle up and make sure I'd arrive at the train station at the last possible moment so I don't have to wait in the cold.

Adventure in Amsterdam - Halloween Weekend

I've had some more adventures in Amsterdam since my visit to Sweden but mostly I just meet up with friends to eat or go shopping and then stay the night watching movies. I had this Friday off as my host family was going to the Dolfinarium in Harderwijk, so I took my time at the house getting ready for a long weekend with friends. I took the train to Amsterdam in the late afternoon to go to a few shops and compare prices on the things I needed to buy for my Halloween costume. Then I had to wait a few hours for everyone to show up, which was fine since there was a carnival in Dam Square.







I got a coffee, sat outside the cafe, and called my parents. I don't call them often on my cell phone because it is expensive but I love calling them when I'm in Amsterdam. It doesn't make me feel so far away from home when I talk to them on my phone instead of Skype. "I'm standing in Dam Square right now." I told them. My mom was worried about me being alone in the city after dark and my dad had to ask what he always asks, "Now, we haven't done any body modifications, have we?" He is concerned that I'm going to get a tattoo or something strange. But maybe he is just teasing me. Sometimes I never really know if he is serious or not.



Two weekends ago I noticed that Christmas lights were already up in the city center and stores had their Holiday merchandise out. It seemed pretty early, at the beginning of October, to already be getting in that spirit but I realized that Halloween here isn't like what it is in the US and there isn't Thanksgiving either. Although dressing in costumes and going to parties for Halloween has become more popular in recent years children don't go trick-or-treating on the 31st.

At first I was feeling really down about missing Halloween with my friends in the States. I mean, I miss my friends all the time here but I knew I was going to miss them even more on Halloween. I love Halloween. Growing up my mom always made the best costumes by hand. Rainbow Brite. Tinkerbell. Alice in Wonderland. Ect. But I have been very lucky to have made some wonderful friends here. They are also au pairs. We're all scattered in different cities and village throughout Holland but we get together on the weekends in Amsterdam. I'm the only American in the group as they hail from all over - Mexico, Spain, Italy, and Germany. But I'll tell you all about them and "us" in another post. So, this weekend we all agreed that we'd celebrate Halloween in Amsterdam together and gave a great time. And we did. I haven't laugh so hard and so much in a long time. I didn't bring my camera so I stole some pictures from Facebook.




Germany and me.


The whole gang: Italy, Mexico, Germany, and me.


Killing time at McDonald's before the station opens at 5am.


The 6:40am train back after a whole night out in A'dam.