Every Wednesday, Swiss Air posts last-minute deals for travel around Europe, and it’s a good way to get away for a couple of days. This past weekend, there were six cities on sale, and three of my friends and I decided to go to Amsterdam, leaving after work Friday night and coming back Sunday night. Most of Europe is within a two-hour plane flight, although a few places can take up to three hours. Amsterdam is a little over an hour away. It still blows my mind, even after being here for over a year, that in the time it would take to get from Boston to Philadelphia, I can cross three countries and end up in Amsterdam.
I think that Amsterdam was designed to confuse all visitors, whether they are sober or stoned. The city is laid out like part of a wagon wheel, with spokes radiating out from the center, and round roads spreading from the center, as well. There are no numbered streets, only named streets, and they have long names that somehow have too many vowels and too many consonants; I think it’s more that the vowels are not evenly distributed. The following letter groups actually occur in Dutch words: “jksm” and “rtg,” which could probably have used some of the extra vowels that show up in words that have “uu” or “aa.” It’s difficult enough trying to read and pronounce these long, jumbled words in a normal state, but if you walk around, you’ll see dazed, shell-shocked visitors staring at street signs and trying to figure out if their minds are playing tricks on them.
The Dutch also put on events and concerts to appeal to visitors, as well, although I think that on some level they are also having their own private laughs by scheduling so-called children’s concerts that feature singers dancing on stage, dressed in bunny and cow costumes. There were some children watching the concert, but a lot more teens and adults, most of whom were staring at the stage in disbelief, “Am I the only one who sees the dancing cows and bunny rabbits?”
In New York, a fun game is to walk around trying to guess if people are insane or if they're just talking on their cell phones. In Amsterdam, the game is even more fun, as you try to figure out if people are insane or if they're just in some crazy drug-induced stupor. I saw one man wearing a ragged thong, performing acrobatics in front of a restaurant, and I am almost certain I saw that same man in the same place six years ago. Another man walked through the crowds, saying to himself (or perhaps to the dancing bunny rabbits, or perhaps to a dancing bunny rabbit on a cell phone in New York), "These people... small minds, small minds. Small minds, all of them." It's rather uncanny, how similar parts of New York are to Amsterdam. (As They Might Be Giants would say, "Even old New York was once New Amsterdam...") It was easy to imagine that we were back in Chelsea or the Village, what with the raving lunatics and the architecture, until we saw another crazy Dutch street sign.
All around the city, in fact, there are strange sights and strange people. The red light district is full of ground floor windows that are about the size of a shower door, with almost naked women sitting inside, waiting for customers. Rather than trying to look sexy, they sit and chat on the phone, send SMSes, pick at their fingernails, and do otherwise normal things, making it seem almost as if they don’t realize that they are sitting in their underwear as hundreds of people walk by. Some of the most-trafficked streets surround an old church, so it is quite surreal to see an old church, hear the church bells pealing, and see the hookers sitting across the way. Maybe they have a referral service with the church: they help the sinners sin, then send them to confession before they come back for seconds.
For the less adventurous, the red light district has many stores that sell a variety of goods. A very wide variety. My friends and I wandered into one shop, and decided that it would be highly amusing to buy a blow-up sheep. After I had paid for my purchase, the shopkeeper decided to point out its best features. “You know, the sheep has a hole here, in the back,” as if: (a) he thought I was buying the sheep to use it, rather than to laugh at it, and (b) he thought that I could get any use out of a sheep with a hole in it, seeing as I am FEMALE. I am still wondering why he felt the need to jump in with his not-so-useful sales pitch after I had already paid for the sheep. I’m also still wondering why I decided that buying a blow-up sheep was a good idea. It made sense at the time. Amsterdam does that to you. It confuses you with dancing rabbits, strange street signs, and half-naked women near the church, and then sells you a blow-up sheep.
I think that Amsterdam was designed to confuse all visitors, whether they are sober or stoned. The city is laid out like part of a wagon wheel, with spokes radiating out from the center, and round roads spreading from the center, as well. There are no numbered streets, only named streets, and they have long names that somehow have too many vowels and too many consonants; I think it’s more that the vowels are not evenly distributed. The following letter groups actually occur in Dutch words: “jksm” and “rtg,” which could probably have used some of the extra vowels that show up in words that have “uu” or “aa.” It’s difficult enough trying to read and pronounce these long, jumbled words in a normal state, but if you walk around, you’ll see dazed, shell-shocked visitors staring at street signs and trying to figure out if their minds are playing tricks on them.
The Dutch also put on events and concerts to appeal to visitors, as well, although I think that on some level they are also having their own private laughs by scheduling so-called children’s concerts that feature singers dancing on stage, dressed in bunny and cow costumes. There were some children watching the concert, but a lot more teens and adults, most of whom were staring at the stage in disbelief, “Am I the only one who sees the dancing cows and bunny rabbits?”
In New York, a fun game is to walk around trying to guess if people are insane or if they're just talking on their cell phones. In Amsterdam, the game is even more fun, as you try to figure out if people are insane or if they're just in some crazy drug-induced stupor. I saw one man wearing a ragged thong, performing acrobatics in front of a restaurant, and I am almost certain I saw that same man in the same place six years ago. Another man walked through the crowds, saying to himself (or perhaps to the dancing bunny rabbits, or perhaps to a dancing bunny rabbit on a cell phone in New York), "These people... small minds, small minds. Small minds, all of them." It's rather uncanny, how similar parts of New York are to Amsterdam. (As They Might Be Giants would say, "Even old New York was once New Amsterdam...") It was easy to imagine that we were back in Chelsea or the Village, what with the raving lunatics and the architecture, until we saw another crazy Dutch street sign.
All around the city, in fact, there are strange sights and strange people. The red light district is full of ground floor windows that are about the size of a shower door, with almost naked women sitting inside, waiting for customers. Rather than trying to look sexy, they sit and chat on the phone, send SMSes, pick at their fingernails, and do otherwise normal things, making it seem almost as if they don’t realize that they are sitting in their underwear as hundreds of people walk by. Some of the most-trafficked streets surround an old church, so it is quite surreal to see an old church, hear the church bells pealing, and see the hookers sitting across the way. Maybe they have a referral service with the church: they help the sinners sin, then send them to confession before they come back for seconds.
For the less adventurous, the red light district has many stores that sell a variety of goods. A very wide variety. My friends and I wandered into one shop, and decided that it would be highly amusing to buy a blow-up sheep. After I had paid for my purchase, the shopkeeper decided to point out its best features. “You know, the sheep has a hole here, in the back,” as if: (a) he thought I was buying the sheep to use it, rather than to laugh at it, and (b) he thought that I could get any use out of a sheep with a hole in it, seeing as I am FEMALE. I am still wondering why he felt the need to jump in with his not-so-useful sales pitch after I had already paid for the sheep. I’m also still wondering why I decided that buying a blow-up sheep was a good idea. It made sense at the time. Amsterdam does that to you. It confuses you with dancing rabbits, strange street signs, and half-naked women near the church, and then sells you a blow-up sheep.
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