Friday, August 27, 2010

Proust!


It's cheers in Dutch, but for some reason I haven't actually heard anyone say it yet. I learned it from a friend at USC who was studying abroad in Amsterdam last Spring. (By the way this picture is the view from my bedroom window!!)

So I go to check into my room (which is in a fantastic, canal-side location), and decide to look in the mailbox in case there's anything left over from the last tenant. And what should I find but a letter addressed to my friend who went abroad here last year--I'm living in her room! Must be a sign...Also, I found her name listed in the phone I was given for my time here in Amsterdam (they re-use them each semester so that you don't have to buy a phone in Amsterdam).

Aside from unintentionally stalking my friend's past, I've also been doing a week-long orientation program through a program called ISN, the International Student Network. I think there are something like 700 of us in this program, and for the week we're divided into groups of about 12. I've got a girl from Philadelphia, one from Kentucky, and one from New York. Then there's a boy from Ireland, one from Germany, one from Paris, 2 girls from Spain, one from Chile...the rest I haven't gotten to know too well so I don't remember. But undoubtedly this has been the most multicultural experience of my life. I'm having a blast.

When I signed up to go abroad in Amsterdam I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't get much opportunity to practice Spanish, which is the only foreign language I have anything close to fluency in. But on the first day of ISN activities, I was already carrying on with several native Spanish speakers who want to improve their English. ISN has even set up a little network to connect people who want to practice their languages here by going out to cafes or bars together. Awesome!

The ISN events have been pretty fun, although their food hasn't been that great--apparently Dutch people have a thing for sandwiches that are really just a slice of ham and cheese inside a hamburger bun masquerading as sustenance. And on the second night of orientation there was a dance party at a club, which was great but the food distribution was nothing short of chaotic shenanigans.

We were all packed around about 3 long, skinny bar tables on the dance floor when I heard word that food would be served soon (I've found that Europeans are quite tall, and I generally have no idea what's going on anytime I'm in a crowd unless someone tells me, because I can't see anything!). Anyway, someone started handing everyone little takeout containers with forks, and when the tubs of pasta came out, pandemonium ensued.

If you've ever studied magnetism in a science class, you've probably seen the teacher take a dish full of metal filings and hold a magnet underneath--this is exactly what happened. As the pasta was put out on the table, this cross section of the world's population scrambled for the tables like animals to a feeding trough.

Noodles were flung, forks purloined, and beers tumbled about in the fray as the horde surged for the tables, each student trying to squish noodles into his or her container as fast as possible before the trough ran out or someone else pushed them out of the way. Some just stood by the table and ate directly from the tubs while trying not to get spilled on. And of course, all of this was happening to the tune of so many languages that, when paired with the music in the background, became a fabulously unintelligible babble. What a wonderful celebration of diversity.

More seriously though, it really has been a lovely experience to discuss things with the amazing selection of students who are here on this adventure with us and I think we'll learn a great deal from each other.

If anyone wants to contact me, you can use my online phone number, (206) 973-7534. You won't pay any fees, it's just like making a local call--but it will redirect to my cell here in the Netherlands (it's free for me to receive calls, so it's awesome!)



Saturday, August 21, 2010

Amsterdam--Day 1/2

So...at 4:30 pm Seattle time, I got on a plane to the Keflavik airport in Reykjavik, Iceland (I have no idea if I spelled any of this right. The flight was about 7.5 hours, but for some reason I wasn't able to sleep at all, so I just watched a lot of movies. Date Night is entertaining but not super great, fyi.

On my second flight (3 hours from Iceland to Amsterdam), my left middle finger started to hurt really bad--I've had some swelling on the fingertip for a few days, but it really started getting maddeningly painful and irritated on this flight.

(Current Update): Hurts like fuck. Also, I went to have it looked at and they told me I'll have to soak it for a day or so and then come back to have surgeons look at it and see if they can drain it. I guess on the bright side I can go around pointing at people because it looks like ET's glowing finger from the movie. (What did he have that for anyway? To transmit signals home? I really don't remember...)

In other news, Dutch is pretty hard to pronounce. Luckily almost everyone speaks English here, but it definitely helps to know a few Dutch words, especially because most of the writing is in Dutch. Also, it's kind of embarrassing asking people where a street like Rapenburgerstr or Utrechtsedwarsstr is without knowing how to pronounce it. (Also, I had to look at a map to even figure out how to spell these just now).

After an ordeal getting to the hotel with my baggage (took the train, then tram, then walked with my 2 big rolling bags, which would have been fine if there weren't crowds of people all over the place), I finally reached my hotel. I was a bit skeptical as it was much cheaper in price than a lot of the others I had seen while searching at home, and the only assurance I had of a reservation was a form I'd submitted on their website--which looks like it was designed in 1995.

Anyway, I went up to the door (it was one of those doors where the top and bottom halves can swing separately), and rang the bell. After a moment or two, the top half of the door swung inward...and there was no one there! But I heard a shout, and I looked up the exceedingly steep green linoleum staircase to see a middle-aged woman crouched at the top of the stairs with one hand on the pulley rope she'd used to open the door--less than 24 hours in Amsterdam and I've already discovered I'm staying in a puppet hotel.

More later...