After an enjoyable Friday evening at the van Gogh and a local cafe, I eagerly awaited the early morning arrival of Ms. Daingerfield. Shortly before 7 AM, we were joyfully - and loudly - reunited in the lobby of Prinsengracht. We quickly settled in and after probably waking up most of the first floor, we went back to sleep.
At noon, we met Kristen and her visiting friend, Em at the Pancake Bakery for a delightful meal, in which it was deduced that every life situation can be improved by the application of powdered sugar. We cruised the Noodermarkt and then met up with Molly at the Botantical gardens.
That evening, we prepared a romantic meal of gnocchi - Maria cooked, Laura videotaped. A little Dane Cook and a Nip/Tuck episode later, it's just like home.
We head to Rembrandt Square around 21:00 to meet up for some adventures. Picking a bar is worse than going on a blind date; no one has any preferences, or at least, won;t just come out and demand them. So and so wants to watch the Madrid v. Madrid game, but the bar listing it is currently showing a France v. who knows rugby game. One place is crowded; oh wait, it's Saturday night, every place is crowded. In one possibility we would be the only women - isn't that what some of you want? All I want is a drink that is not beer and is less than 8 euro.
We end up in a cafe, and I initiate a conversation that proves to be foreshadowing.
"What song would a locale have to play that would encourage you to leave?"
...And I'm talking bad. I tend to be pretty opinionated on music (yeah, and everything else) and often find myself trying to understand what the f the Europeans are thinking when they make club playlists. My votes for tonight include "Every time we Touch" and recent Gwen Stefani songs.
In the continuing epic to find a bar, Molly votes for "Club Cafe Smokey;" most likely because of the adjacent sister coffeeshop with the same name. Drink prices are alright, and when we first get there its not too crowded. People are smoking inside alot (weed and cigs) which only aggreviates my fastly developing cold.
The nights soundtrack commences with a large amount of Justin Timberlake's most recent album, some Sean Paul, and then it hits...M.C. Hammer. When I hear "can't touch this" start, I am standing at the bar, gesturing my dislike across the room to my table.
We then get the bright idea to request shitty songs. First order; "Call on Me." We're not sure the request was understood, but oh yes, "Call on Me" starts, we scream, as usual. Continuing in the amazingness of shitty music, out of nowhere it happens "Cuz every time we touch..." More screaming. The rest of the night is a mess of more JT and AKON.
We meet more Manchester men and other parts of England (we attract them like flies, its awesome) including a pretty decent looking guy who tries to make eye contact several times, but I am too lazy to socialize. As usual though, we make lots of new friends. By midnight, its packed, and security is harassing up to check our coats and leave. On principle, we leave and after a debate about more partying, Laura and I walk home in the pouring rain, only to crash joyfully into bed.
Sunday was less eventful; I got us lost on the way to the Rijks, we cruised the Red Light District and had INDIAN! Which I had been saving my first trip to share with Laura.
Upcoming adventures: A chartered canal tour, a rainy day diversion for stir-crazy kids like L-Dog, and the Bible Museum (really not joking).
Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Carnaval
A decision made only 4 days before (and a quick hotel switch the morning of departure) found us on a 7:37 train to Maastricht in South Holland. In the process of getting to Centraal we had gained another traveler, a touch of drama, and no dinner, but we made the train. We arrived in Maastricht to discover our hotel was relatively close to downtown, in the way Siena is relatively close to say, Saratoga. Actually, it was about a 15 minute bus ride and we wereconvienently located right on the bus route. We checked in, and were back on the bus in under 12 minutes, and hit downtown by 11ish.
To say the very least, the celebration was in full swing. The main square was already trashed, broken glass everywhere, while several varieties of music competed for attention. From techno to really shitty American music to traditional Dutch songs, the array proved amusing which we took full advantage of by breaking out every rediculous dance move we could think of. We traveled the bars of the Square, making friends, trying to explain we didn't speak much (read: any) Dutch, and dancing. We were unfortunately very underdressed for the occasion, as most people were in some form of costume - either the Carneval colors of red, yellow, and green, something totally rediculous, or actual costume. There were quite a few people in army fatigues, one who took a liking to me, and ended up taking me down in the middle of a side street as a result of his inebration.
While it is hard to describe every interesting moment - of which there were many - I'll highlight. We, by chance, found other friends for CIEE outside a bar, which was exciting and traveled deeper into the city with them. I danced with a man more than twice my age (arguably 3 times my age - insert joke here, I can here you laughing from NL) and then we took over a stage with a pair of boys dressed as Snow White. There is no explanation at all. I ended up really dehydrated and tired because I hadn't really eaten dinner and water is so hard to get for free here, so by 3 am we cleared out, hailed a cab, and headed back home.
I don't spend a lot of time in cabs, but I view it as they are doing me a service, and I am paying them much too much, so I don't expect to be morally judged by them. For example, 4 of us are in the taxi, no one is overly intoxicated, we are reviewing the night, discussing how one of our friends was too shy to kiss this guy. Not too R-rated at all - we have much more intense conversations at home around the dinner table with my family - and the cab driver asks us to not talk about this subject. We are all stunned into silence, with no idea how to react. He then stops to get petrol, and I refuse to see any justification in this request, but there's nothing really that can be done. After an awkwardly quiet trip back, we sneak 4 people into a triple, crash immediately and I am sleeping in the crack of the two single beds. Niccccccccccccccccce.
The next day's adventures did not commence until almost 13:30. We went to a cheap Asian buffet, then to the only church in the NLs that is built on a Saint's burial place. Our original plan had been to go downtown and just stay until the parties that night. By 16:00 the parties had started, but our asses were kicked. If I were to start drinking at 4 in the afternoon, I'd probably be out by 10. We had luckily snagged all day bus passes and thus headed back to crash for a few hours. By 21:00 we are back downtown, complete with feather boas et all so we "blend in" a bit more. We head to a really cheap Fraternity-run bar (beer + shots, 1 euro each, mixed drinks, 2 euro) where everyone begins to drink semiheavily (not me though, I had 3 drinks all night. Really!) We end up wandering some more, I sign my name on some Dutch guy's ass (after I stop him from marking my friend's back with a permenant marker), you know, the regular. Around midnight, we end up splitting into two groups; Kristen, Dalma, and Torie head back into the bars, while me, Molly, and Megan go to a coffeeshop entitled "Cool Runnings." The name alone brought me joy. We three chilled and talked for a while, but didn't have any phone signal inside, so as soon as we got outside again, I had several messages and no idea what was going on with the other half of the group (this confusion was a result of shitty cell phones, not other things, as you may suspect). From what I can glean though, there is drama.
We find the other 3 outside of a McDonalds and Kristen's chilling on the sidewalk. The drama is not worth getting into, but basically we decide to leave. Its about a quarter of 2 at this point, and I am more than happy to go back. There is the regular debriefing before bed and then finally, marvelous sleep.
10:00 comes too soon; we rush to check out, get all of us out without them questioning our numbers and catch the bus back to Centraal. We arrive 20 minutes before the next train fortunately, and by 1130ish we are headed back to A'dam.
It was quite the party, to put it lightly. I was dead to the world most of Sunday after we returned, but it was an experience worth the sacrifice.
Pictures will follow shortly, be ready.
To say the very least, the celebration was in full swing. The main square was already trashed, broken glass everywhere, while several varieties of music competed for attention. From techno to really shitty American music to traditional Dutch songs, the array proved amusing which we took full advantage of by breaking out every rediculous dance move we could think of. We traveled the bars of the Square, making friends, trying to explain we didn't speak much (read: any) Dutch, and dancing. We were unfortunately very underdressed for the occasion, as most people were in some form of costume - either the Carneval colors of red, yellow, and green, something totally rediculous, or actual costume. There were quite a few people in army fatigues, one who took a liking to me, and ended up taking me down in the middle of a side street as a result of his inebration.
While it is hard to describe every interesting moment - of which there were many - I'll highlight. We, by chance, found other friends for CIEE outside a bar, which was exciting and traveled deeper into the city with them. I danced with a man more than twice my age (arguably 3 times my age - insert joke here, I can here you laughing from NL) and then we took over a stage with a pair of boys dressed as Snow White. There is no explanation at all. I ended up really dehydrated and tired because I hadn't really eaten dinner and water is so hard to get for free here, so by 3 am we cleared out, hailed a cab, and headed back home.
I don't spend a lot of time in cabs, but I view it as they are doing me a service, and I am paying them much too much, so I don't expect to be morally judged by them. For example, 4 of us are in the taxi, no one is overly intoxicated, we are reviewing the night, discussing how one of our friends was too shy to kiss this guy. Not too R-rated at all - we have much more intense conversations at home around the dinner table with my family - and the cab driver asks us to not talk about this subject. We are all stunned into silence, with no idea how to react. He then stops to get petrol, and I refuse to see any justification in this request, but there's nothing really that can be done. After an awkwardly quiet trip back, we sneak 4 people into a triple, crash immediately and I am sleeping in the crack of the two single beds. Niccccccccccccccccce.
The next day's adventures did not commence until almost 13:30. We went to a cheap Asian buffet, then to the only church in the NLs that is built on a Saint's burial place. Our original plan had been to go downtown and just stay until the parties that night. By 16:00 the parties had started, but our asses were kicked. If I were to start drinking at 4 in the afternoon, I'd probably be out by 10. We had luckily snagged all day bus passes and thus headed back to crash for a few hours. By 21:00 we are back downtown, complete with feather boas et all so we "blend in" a bit more. We head to a really cheap Fraternity-run bar (beer + shots, 1 euro each, mixed drinks, 2 euro) where everyone begins to drink semiheavily (not me though, I had 3 drinks all night. Really!) We end up wandering some more, I sign my name on some Dutch guy's ass (after I stop him from marking my friend's back with a permenant marker), you know, the regular. Around midnight, we end up splitting into two groups; Kristen, Dalma, and Torie head back into the bars, while me, Molly, and Megan go to a coffeeshop entitled "Cool Runnings." The name alone brought me joy. We three chilled and talked for a while, but didn't have any phone signal inside, so as soon as we got outside again, I had several messages and no idea what was going on with the other half of the group (this confusion was a result of shitty cell phones, not other things, as you may suspect). From what I can glean though, there is drama.
We find the other 3 outside of a McDonalds and Kristen's chilling on the sidewalk. The drama is not worth getting into, but basically we decide to leave. Its about a quarter of 2 at this point, and I am more than happy to go back. There is the regular debriefing before bed and then finally, marvelous sleep.
10:00 comes too soon; we rush to check out, get all of us out without them questioning our numbers and catch the bus back to Centraal. We arrive 20 minutes before the next train fortunately, and by 1130ish we are headed back to A'dam.
It was quite the party, to put it lightly. I was dead to the world most of Sunday after we returned, but it was an experience worth the sacrifice.
Pictures will follow shortly, be ready.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
How I came to love the British
When we last left off, I was on my way to a V-Day Borrel on Rembrandt Square, wearing a satin red shirt and hot pink sneakers from the flea market. The first night time bike ride was harrowing, but I obviously survived. Upon completion of this journey, the adventure of your night began.
The ISN borrel was packed - a fire code violation in the making. I am way too short for the dutch, and was quickly lost in a sea of people until I got to the balcony like thing. Kristen cleared out within 10 minutes of getting through the door, and I followed shortly there after, to find her, Jackie, and Aaron planning to hop to the bar across the street. My jacket is the only one we can't find, but we decide to come back for it when the crowd clears out for the after party.
We end up at "Cafe Nasty," which an expensive bar (6.50 euro a drink) but has a stripper pole in the center of the dance floor. We don't stay all that long, and it's early in the night for pole dancing (for ourselves and the locals) and end up back outside. Here, fortune decided to shine upon our evening.
A delightful British guy asked me where a good bar is; we enter into a conversation about where to go, and where we're all from (all 3 of them were from Manchester) and I then decide to lead the newly combined group of them (Matt, Stew, and Brenden) and us (Me, Kristen, Jackie, Aaron) to a new bar. That doesn't work out, so we invite them to join the ISN afterparty. After loosing sight of them for a bit (in which I am in a fury over my missing jacket) we reunite on the corner of the dance floor. We are attempting to hold conversations over the music, eventually succumbing to dancing to some of the poorest examples of American music ever (bon jovi, cyndi lauper, um...I did not fly over 3000 miles for this bullshit). We kinda pair off, (which leaves one of the brits bouncing back and forth, pouting a bit), and Kristen insists she's leaving soon if they dont buy us drinks. I personally do not care to flirt my way into a drink, because A) I can buy my own drink, thank you; and B) Buying me a drink is going to get you gratitude and most likely, nothing else, and I will tell you that up front. She keeps asking me how you get guys to buy you drinks, and shes mentioning how she doesn't have money and how she's not drunk at all. I, being the magical being I am, am just chilling, talking about the music or politics (yes, politics at 130, in a bar), and Matt offers to buy me a drink. I have now inspired hatred in Kristen's heart, but hey free beer for Maria! (Side note: I will be questioned on how fast I drink that beer; I'm sorry, I'm american?)
So the night is progressing well; Matt is not creepy, he's (supposedly) only 25; they all leave Thursday morning, so it's a good time. We insist we are leaving at 2 AM (we both have 9 am class with half of the people on the dance floor at any given moment) and exchange some numbers in hopes of making plans for tomorrow (i.e. Wednesday night). We head outside for some air and to say our good byes, and fortune once again returns, this time to rain on our parade.
Matt, Kristen, Brenden and I are chilling on the stairs when we look up and witness a very ungraceful egress of a fellow CIEE student. We had already spent part of the night disowning our fellow CIEE females because of the rediculousness they were taking part in, so this only added to it. A lot of falling, stumbling, belligerent arguing, and the like commence in front of us. My roommate, who is trying to help out the girl, comes to stand with us, because most of the American girls present have found creepy men who now are stalking them. The drunken girl's friends all leave, and for some reason, me and Kristen are left with her. After I take her to the bathroom, get her back outside, and rationalize some actions, our British friends are bemusingly offering help, but now it's heading toward 3 am and my jacket is still missing. Conclusion: in a rage.
Segue: we went back to look for my jacket a third time, and literally as Kristen was like "Sweetheart, give it up, its gone" I found it. My blood pressure up until that moment was at highly unhealthy levels.
Unsegue, we part from the Brits, telling them to call us about tomorrow, and begin to move back toward Kristen and my bikes. I take mine, Kristen takes our friends, locking hers up (note: Kristen does not live near Rembrandt Square at all). Here, I am luckily freed from responsibility, as I have the furthest ride home, and I'm alone. Riding home at 3 AM through all the little side streets and bridges is pretty sweet, a moment of transcendence of society, if I may.
I arrive in Prinsengracht to find my roommate waiting up for me. We review the night's damage, discuss future plans for increased safety, and then call Kristen. She had managed to strong-arm the belligerent into a cab, and now was home - but with the other girl's bike. Shortly after 4 am, I crash.
7:30 AM - It does not feel as if I have been asleep at all. I shower, knock on Allie's door, manage to get my bike out of the basement (if you visit me, ask to see me do this, its f 'ing redic). I end up getting off track, because I'm avoiding the trams/buses/scooters/cars/crazy dutch bikers who do not value life and end up taking a side trip through the Red Light District. I am fortunate enough not to pass any day whores, for last time that happened, Lauren summed it up perfectly in one word: wildebeasts. That being said, the morning does not go all that smoothly, and of course, its raining.
As a result of all of the above and a conversation with a very impressive law student last weekend, I have made the executive decision to take on EU Law as independent study. Jaani said I can go to lecture or read the book, as long as I do one, (and write the paper) I can pass - and he seems like he'd know. So while I should be in EU Law now, being screamed at by the crazy woman, I am at PHK recounting my life's moments for others'enjoyment. Now I just really need to buy that book.
The ISN borrel was packed - a fire code violation in the making. I am way too short for the dutch, and was quickly lost in a sea of people until I got to the balcony like thing. Kristen cleared out within 10 minutes of getting through the door, and I followed shortly there after, to find her, Jackie, and Aaron planning to hop to the bar across the street. My jacket is the only one we can't find, but we decide to come back for it when the crowd clears out for the after party.
We end up at "Cafe Nasty," which an expensive bar (6.50 euro a drink) but has a stripper pole in the center of the dance floor. We don't stay all that long, and it's early in the night for pole dancing (for ourselves and the locals) and end up back outside. Here, fortune decided to shine upon our evening.
A delightful British guy asked me where a good bar is; we enter into a conversation about where to go, and where we're all from (all 3 of them were from Manchester) and I then decide to lead the newly combined group of them (Matt, Stew, and Brenden) and us (Me, Kristen, Jackie, Aaron) to a new bar. That doesn't work out, so we invite them to join the ISN afterparty. After loosing sight of them for a bit (in which I am in a fury over my missing jacket) we reunite on the corner of the dance floor. We are attempting to hold conversations over the music, eventually succumbing to dancing to some of the poorest examples of American music ever (bon jovi, cyndi lauper, um...I did not fly over 3000 miles for this bullshit). We kinda pair off, (which leaves one of the brits bouncing back and forth, pouting a bit), and Kristen insists she's leaving soon if they dont buy us drinks. I personally do not care to flirt my way into a drink, because A) I can buy my own drink, thank you; and B) Buying me a drink is going to get you gratitude and most likely, nothing else, and I will tell you that up front. She keeps asking me how you get guys to buy you drinks, and shes mentioning how she doesn't have money and how she's not drunk at all. I, being the magical being I am, am just chilling, talking about the music or politics (yes, politics at 130, in a bar), and Matt offers to buy me a drink. I have now inspired hatred in Kristen's heart, but hey free beer for Maria! (Side note: I will be questioned on how fast I drink that beer; I'm sorry, I'm american?)
So the night is progressing well; Matt is not creepy, he's (supposedly) only 25; they all leave Thursday morning, so it's a good time. We insist we are leaving at 2 AM (we both have 9 am class with half of the people on the dance floor at any given moment) and exchange some numbers in hopes of making plans for tomorrow (i.e. Wednesday night). We head outside for some air and to say our good byes, and fortune once again returns, this time to rain on our parade.
Matt, Kristen, Brenden and I are chilling on the stairs when we look up and witness a very ungraceful egress of a fellow CIEE student. We had already spent part of the night disowning our fellow CIEE females because of the rediculousness they were taking part in, so this only added to it. A lot of falling, stumbling, belligerent arguing, and the like commence in front of us. My roommate, who is trying to help out the girl, comes to stand with us, because most of the American girls present have found creepy men who now are stalking them. The drunken girl's friends all leave, and for some reason, me and Kristen are left with her. After I take her to the bathroom, get her back outside, and rationalize some actions, our British friends are bemusingly offering help, but now it's heading toward 3 am and my jacket is still missing. Conclusion: in a rage.
Segue: we went back to look for my jacket a third time, and literally as Kristen was like "Sweetheart, give it up, its gone" I found it. My blood pressure up until that moment was at highly unhealthy levels.
Unsegue, we part from the Brits, telling them to call us about tomorrow, and begin to move back toward Kristen and my bikes. I take mine, Kristen takes our friends, locking hers up (note: Kristen does not live near Rembrandt Square at all). Here, I am luckily freed from responsibility, as I have the furthest ride home, and I'm alone. Riding home at 3 AM through all the little side streets and bridges is pretty sweet, a moment of transcendence of society, if I may.
I arrive in Prinsengracht to find my roommate waiting up for me. We review the night's damage, discuss future plans for increased safety, and then call Kristen. She had managed to strong-arm the belligerent into a cab, and now was home - but with the other girl's bike. Shortly after 4 am, I crash.
7:30 AM - It does not feel as if I have been asleep at all. I shower, knock on Allie's door, manage to get my bike out of the basement (if you visit me, ask to see me do this, its f 'ing redic). I end up getting off track, because I'm avoiding the trams/buses/scooters/cars/crazy dutch bikers who do not value life and end up taking a side trip through the Red Light District. I am fortunate enough not to pass any day whores, for last time that happened, Lauren summed it up perfectly in one word: wildebeasts. That being said, the morning does not go all that smoothly, and of course, its raining.
As a result of all of the above and a conversation with a very impressive law student last weekend, I have made the executive decision to take on EU Law as independent study. Jaani said I can go to lecture or read the book, as long as I do one, (and write the paper) I can pass - and he seems like he'd know. So while I should be in EU Law now, being screamed at by the crazy woman, I am at PHK recounting my life's moments for others'enjoyment. Now I just really need to buy that book.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
This one goes out to this hot chick I know, Katy DeCorah...
I has been brought to my attention that I need to blog so people know what I'm doing 24/7, so here's a mini update until the real adventure of this weekend occurs.
Jorge finally came through; I have a bike. (We secretly nicknamed the bike man because we have seen him more than any other individual in the past week). Its a pretty crappy bike, but that will hopefully deter thieves.
I also finally got to the van Gogh museum. It was, simply put, breathtaking. We discussed going everyday, but that seemed a little overkill. When I got to the metal detectors and refused to pass through them, the man took my word and had me hold his hand all the way around security, it was awesome.
In a uncharacteristic fit of spontanaity (sp?), we have decided to go to Maastricht for the weekend. For those who have no idea what/where/why (i.e. all of you), Maastricht is a lovely medevil town on Southern Holland where Carnaval/Mardi Gras is celebrated heartily. While we won't be there for the actual Carnaval (because we can't start skipping class already), we will be there for some liveiness. We have a hotel, now we just need train tickets and we're set. Blog will follow.
Now, I am getting ready to go out (who thought Tuesday was a good night for drinking?) for the Valentine's Day Borrel (gheyyyyyyyyy), wearing red pink. Rediculousness, just one more service I offer.
Jorge finally came through; I have a bike. (We secretly nicknamed the bike man because we have seen him more than any other individual in the past week). Its a pretty crappy bike, but that will hopefully deter thieves.
I also finally got to the van Gogh museum. It was, simply put, breathtaking. We discussed going everyday, but that seemed a little overkill. When I got to the metal detectors and refused to pass through them, the man took my word and had me hold his hand all the way around security, it was awesome.
In a uncharacteristic fit of spontanaity (sp?), we have decided to go to Maastricht for the weekend. For those who have no idea what/where/why (i.e. all of you), Maastricht is a lovely medevil town on Southern Holland where Carnaval/Mardi Gras is celebrated heartily. While we won't be there for the actual Carnaval (because we can't start skipping class already), we will be there for some liveiness. We have a hotel, now we just need train tickets and we're set. Blog will follow.
Now, I am getting ready to go out (who thought Tuesday was a good night for drinking?) for the Valentine's Day Borrel (gheyyyyyyyyy), wearing red pink. Rediculousness, just one more service I offer.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Buying bikes from junkies
...I realize that people actually read this blog, thus I'll update. No major adventures (though currently everything is an adventure to us.) Steph from CIEE celebrated her 21st last night, twas a good time, and we made it back on the tram safely. I went to bed with Lynch's "I wanna F your sister" in my head. Random, I realize.
We are still trying to get bikes, and being wicked short Americans in the World's Tallest Nation is not serving us well. We have some bikes promised on Tuesday, so hopefully that will work out...otherwise, I'll just be walking everywhere, forever.
Also in the works: travel plans for the semester (already). Me and the girls are going somewhere in May, which is still yet to be decided. Many people are buying tickets now, so I'm working on figuring out when I need to get things organized.
Alright, I am hopefully off to adventure in the city...more stories to come soon!
We are still trying to get bikes, and being wicked short Americans in the World's Tallest Nation is not serving us well. We have some bikes promised on Tuesday, so hopefully that will work out...otherwise, I'll just be walking everywhere, forever.
Also in the works: travel plans for the semester (already). Me and the girls are going somewhere in May, which is still yet to be decided. Many people are buying tickets now, so I'm working on figuring out when I need to get things organized.
Alright, I am hopefully off to adventure in the city...more stories to come soon!
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
An Obvious Lesson Learned, but no Harm Done.
...while it may be 12 o'clock somewhere, but that still does not justify celebrating happy hour at 3 pm. On a Tuesday. But, its not everyday that you are in Amsterdam. At a tapas restaurant outside of Centraal.
But the moral of the story is...right, yeah nevermind. The only damage done were some damn sweet naps for Lauren and I.
Go look at my pictures...and don't laugh because I have about 43 pictures of canals, those are all different, significant waterways, goddamn it!
http://siena.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014716&l=e3e1e&id=35200150
http://siena.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014717&l=99b91&id=35200150
You should be able to view them, even if you aren't on facebook. If not, im and I will fix, as I live to serve.
But the moral of the story is...right, yeah nevermind. The only damage done were some damn sweet naps for Lauren and I.
Go look at my pictures...and don't laugh because I have about 43 pictures of canals, those are all different, significant waterways, goddamn it!
http://siena.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014716&l=e3e1e&id=35200150
http://siena.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014717&l=99b91&id=35200150
You should be able to view them, even if you aren't on facebook. If not, im and I will fix, as I live to serve.
Monday, February 5, 2007
The Adventure continues...
I mildly despise wholy chronological recaps, thus I shall highlight the most outstanding moments.
Saturday morning was the commencement of the ISN (International Student Network) adventure. We began with another canal tour, which was pretty sweet, then moved on to ice skating. We decided that the program must think that total and utter humiliation is the best way to bond.
Traversing Alexanderplein, I see that the crocuses are already in bloom. The irony brings me joy. This joy only increases when I discover that the ice skating rink is outside. With the sun shining and grass thriving in the center of the circular rink. Despite the hockey skates (I've never used them) and the amazingly good Dutch speed skaters (and all the six year olds) we all manage to survive with our dignity intact.
Later on, after dinner at a Mediterrenian place, we meet at Dam Square for the big party. Of course, no one shows up til 11 and we are standing in this cold as hell, hole in the wall, trashy club the whole time. Eventually a ton of people end up there. Leaving around 130 (to walk home alone) I realize what I know for sure is the worse part of Europe.
Smoking.
Inside.
My clothes, which I had been wearing for all of 3 hours now, reek of smoke, as does my hair. And my airways are like, "oh no, we are closing up to-NIGHT." It's nice to know I have large amounts of advair stashed away.
Sunday was spent shopping and then we went out to dinner with Kristen's friend who was visiting from Ireland. Indonesian food and pastries contributed to the night, but the drunk - obviously American - half-dressed frat boys completed it. As I took pictures of Megan and Dalma with these gentlemen, they decided it was a good idea to pick Dalma up. Literally. Photo evidence to follow.
Just in the case that we weren't all totally overwhelmed yet by the vast amount of information shoved down our throats in the past 5 days, today we began classes. It's a 1.5 mile walk from here to the ISHSS (International School of Humanities and Social Sciences) and several us gathered for moral support.
In between classes, we get lunch and do some shopping. I now have a tapestry that will function as a bed sheet until I learn the Dutch words for "sheet" and "duvet cover" and can thus differeniate. I also bought some of my books for class.
This evening was one of the surreal, European incidents. After chilling for a bit, Lauren and I went to a reknown apple pie locale and had us some huge pieces of Dutch Apple pie. The fact that we are lucky enough to live here - not to mention lucky enough to live in the best dorm, in the best neighborhood - has still not totally sunk in. In celebration of being in Amsterdam, we strolled the Red Light District for a bit (almost gaining a stalker on the way over) and spent sometime chilling on a bridge, pretending we weren't watching men approach the girls. After a half hour or so, we returned to our lovely Prinsengracht.
I have no classes tomorrow, and still have a bit of shopping to do. I may join some folks for an ikea trip, but I also need to buy books, setup my cell phone, find a bike (and locks) and maybe do some homework. Or, wander Jordaan with my camera.
Saturday morning was the commencement of the ISN (International Student Network) adventure. We began with another canal tour, which was pretty sweet, then moved on to ice skating. We decided that the program must think that total and utter humiliation is the best way to bond.
Traversing Alexanderplein, I see that the crocuses are already in bloom. The irony brings me joy. This joy only increases when I discover that the ice skating rink is outside. With the sun shining and grass thriving in the center of the circular rink. Despite the hockey skates (I've never used them) and the amazingly good Dutch speed skaters (and all the six year olds) we all manage to survive with our dignity intact.
Later on, after dinner at a Mediterrenian place, we meet at Dam Square for the big party. Of course, no one shows up til 11 and we are standing in this cold as hell, hole in the wall, trashy club the whole time. Eventually a ton of people end up there. Leaving around 130 (to walk home alone) I realize what I know for sure is the worse part of Europe.
Smoking.
Inside.
My clothes, which I had been wearing for all of 3 hours now, reek of smoke, as does my hair. And my airways are like, "oh no, we are closing up to-NIGHT." It's nice to know I have large amounts of advair stashed away.
Sunday was spent shopping and then we went out to dinner with Kristen's friend who was visiting from Ireland. Indonesian food and pastries contributed to the night, but the drunk - obviously American - half-dressed frat boys completed it. As I took pictures of Megan and Dalma with these gentlemen, they decided it was a good idea to pick Dalma up. Literally. Photo evidence to follow.
Just in the case that we weren't all totally overwhelmed yet by the vast amount of information shoved down our throats in the past 5 days, today we began classes. It's a 1.5 mile walk from here to the ISHSS (International School of Humanities and Social Sciences) and several us gathered for moral support.
In between classes, we get lunch and do some shopping. I now have a tapestry that will function as a bed sheet until I learn the Dutch words for "sheet" and "duvet cover" and can thus differeniate. I also bought some of my books for class.
This evening was one of the surreal, European incidents. After chilling for a bit, Lauren and I went to a reknown apple pie locale and had us some huge pieces of Dutch Apple pie. The fact that we are lucky enough to live here - not to mention lucky enough to live in the best dorm, in the best neighborhood - has still not totally sunk in. In celebration of being in Amsterdam, we strolled the Red Light District for a bit (almost gaining a stalker on the way over) and spent sometime chilling on a bridge, pretending we weren't watching men approach the girls. After a half hour or so, we returned to our lovely Prinsengracht.
I have no classes tomorrow, and still have a bit of shopping to do. I may join some folks for an ikea trip, but I also need to buy books, setup my cell phone, find a bike (and locks) and maybe do some homework. Or, wander Jordaan with my camera.
Friday, February 2, 2007
Arrival.
...So I have been in the Netherlands for only 36 hours, and I have already met over 40 different people, walked probably 15 miles around downtown, gone on a canal tour, cruised the red light district, and been in at least 5 or 6 bars.
"Borrel" is a Dutch social event that includes alcohol consumption. Literally, "borrel" translates into "drink." While CIEE struggles to organize many other programs, they can make sure we have free drinks.
Orientation has been a clusterfuck of programming: canal tour, campus tour, scavenger hunt (my group sucked, as we live practically in Jordaan, we are forever away from downtown), lots of drawn-out "info sessions" and bar hopping with other international students. With so much going on, I will only highlight the cool stuff.
My dorm: I moved in to discover the most amazing dorm I've ever seen. 20 foot ceilings, a kitchenette, huge windows overlooking a courtyard, and a bathroom I only have to share with one other girl; Ally, who's also from MA. I know all the CIEE students that live here. We are arguably 4 and half miles or more away from the other dorms, which kinda sucks.
Navigating has been an adventure. In this "do it yourself" society, people will correct your Dutch then offer you directions in perfectly good English. We have been left to wander - in hopes of luck or mercy from the Dutch - back to our dorms. I was in charge last night, and we ended up in a branch of the Red Light District. I gawked - totally tourist staring, while Tori insisted she wanted to go home. I was amused, but when am I not? We also walked through Chinatown this evening, which was a crazy array of restaurants and such - with whole roasted ducks hanging in the window. Mmmmmm...not.
Also, they tell you everyone can speak English here; well yes they can speak English, but that does not mean they do. I have already begun the undertaking of learning enough dutch to not look like an idiot, as I was already proclaimed an American by the bathroom attentant in a bar this evening (tipping in bathrooms is weird, sorry).
I've done so much in the past 2 days , it's hard to describe it all. Tomorrow, we have numerous programs with ISN (International Student Network) planned, then out to the bars again. Look for pictures, coming soon to a blog near you.
"Borrel" is a Dutch social event that includes alcohol consumption. Literally, "borrel" translates into "drink." While CIEE struggles to organize many other programs, they can make sure we have free drinks.
Orientation has been a clusterfuck of programming: canal tour, campus tour, scavenger hunt (my group sucked, as we live practically in Jordaan, we are forever away from downtown), lots of drawn-out "info sessions" and bar hopping with other international students. With so much going on, I will only highlight the cool stuff.
My dorm: I moved in to discover the most amazing dorm I've ever seen. 20 foot ceilings, a kitchenette, huge windows overlooking a courtyard, and a bathroom I only have to share with one other girl; Ally, who's also from MA. I know all the CIEE students that live here. We are arguably 4 and half miles or more away from the other dorms, which kinda sucks.
Navigating has been an adventure. In this "do it yourself" society, people will correct your Dutch then offer you directions in perfectly good English. We have been left to wander - in hopes of luck or mercy from the Dutch - back to our dorms. I was in charge last night, and we ended up in a branch of the Red Light District. I gawked - totally tourist staring, while Tori insisted she wanted to go home. I was amused, but when am I not? We also walked through Chinatown this evening, which was a crazy array of restaurants and such - with whole roasted ducks hanging in the window. Mmmmmm...not.
Also, they tell you everyone can speak English here; well yes they can speak English, but that does not mean they do. I have already begun the undertaking of learning enough dutch to not look like an idiot, as I was already proclaimed an American by the bathroom attentant in a bar this evening (tipping in bathrooms is weird, sorry).
I've done so much in the past 2 days , it's hard to describe it all. Tomorrow, we have numerous programs with ISN (International Student Network) planned, then out to the bars again. Look for pictures, coming soon to a blog near you.
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