Gus in Amsterdam

Ahhhhh Back to A’dam!!!

I was in Croatia and Morocco. Sorry that I did not keep up the blog. I had limited internet access. You can see photos on facebook though. 

I can go into more detail later, but I feel like my head is in 10 places at once. It is a strange experience to travel to a bunch of vastly different places over a short period of time.

In Croatia, we stayed in Zagred, the capital. It was a beautiful “European” looking city. I say that self-consciously because honestly I made assumptions about Croatia because it is in the Balkans and was formally part of a socialist state. I guess I expected aging concrete block apartment buildings and modern architecture. I was quickly told by Croatians that the Balkans are not Eastern Europe and were never in the Soviet Bloc. ahahahaha. We are silly Americans. 

I loved learning about the political system in Croatia and its relationship with the LGBTQ movement. Nationalism seemed omni-present in Croatia and a long with it a culture of “tradition” and masculinity. We learned that gay rights activists have been beaten up in the past for speaking at Pride marches. I always knew that gay people have felt the threat of violence, but learning about it in Croatia made it seem more real to me. 

One of the best experiences of my life was at a anarchist squat in Zagreb. It was located in a few dilapidated buildings. There was funky art and graffiti everywhere and the people were rough, but not scary. Seemed like it was out of the late 80s or 90s.

To be continued! dinner time

Strange occurrence:

Tonight, as I came home from exploring the Zuidoost, I found Otto’s home empty.

It is weird because I have not seen Otto’s face for over 48 hours. Maybe he doesn’t realize that he should check in with me at least once a day just to make sure that I am alive. ahahahahah.

Even though I have not seen him, his presence is here. I walked up the stairs to my room and discovered that all my dirty clothes, which I had hung on a chair to dry, had been put on hangers and placed on the door. To my surprise, I also found my comforter thrown over the door, which was ajar. Is this some strange Dutch thing or is it just Otto?

I was going to wash those clothes anyways, but I didn’t want them to get the other dirty clothes wet in case it would make them smell bad. The comforter was also clean and did not need to dry. 

Maybe it has to do with something he told me before. He said one evening, “Gus, this is a positive criticism, but if you organize your things more you will study better, because to be clear in your mind you have to have a peaceful setting.”

He also has Amma pictures, Thich Nhat Hanh pictures, buddhas, mandalas galore, and various “eastern” spiritual objects. The organizing is some kind of spiritual cleansing of my room? An Feng Shui reordering of my space? 

I don’t quite understand, but I may ask him about it!

I could be offended that he touched my things, but maybe that is my evil American self being obsessed with private property, along with being stupidly religious and incapable of supporting a welfare state, as a Dutch political scientist explained to my class. 

I think I will be able to study without Ottos rituals. 

Note to Mother/Father/other Parents:

I keep my room much much cleaner in comparison to my room at home and my dorm room. So, he did not have to organize these things because there was a stinking pile of crap on the floor! I do have some level of respect for the living spaces of others and have even decided to put all my clothes folded and in drawers.

Note to self:

Maybe it is pathetic to write a post script anticipating the criticism of my parents?

Other note to self:

Although, I have been criticized my entire life for my organizational skills. So, I can rationalize that I can be a little pathetic.

End of post. 

Things here are becoming a blur (in the best way possible). I know longer feel like a tourist and the detachment from my culture, place, family and friends (I’m making lovely ones here though too!) no longer feels transient. I cannot look at Amsterdam “from the outside.” The city is a part of the way I think and feel.

I love the way that this feels. I don’t feel lost or anxious. I have come to understand how I exist apart from the world the usually surrounds me. Even as a I walk by foreign canals and streets, which I cannot pronounce, I exist. 

I don’t mean to sound overly abstract and existential. I find that this is a very simple discovery, that I will not fear disappearing into my surroundings any more. I can adapt to a new place and let it become a part of me. 

Hello. I finally have internet so I can blog!

There is way too much for me to catch up on!!!

I arrived at Schipol Airport on September 6th and was very tired and confused. My flights were smooth and comfortable. The British Airways flight attendants were cold and efficient. One of them gave me two diet cokes when she forgot to ask me for a drink the first time around. Europeans are kind of strange? Or just the brits…

Anyways back to my arrival. Schipol airport was clean and seemed like an upscale shopping mall. My brain did not process information very well at that point, since I was sleep deprived and hearing both English and Dutch being spoken at the same time.

I lugged my bags around and eventually discovered that the luggage carts were free. Like some weird tourist, I pushed the cart through tiny stores to buy little things: cheese, throat lozenges, foccacia.

I was walking outside to get some fresh air and wandered over to a cluster of potted sunflowers and sat down. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed some young people clustered by the pots. I looked over and then went back to spacing out. Someone then yelled, “SIT?” It was one of the students near the pots a few feet away from me. I went over and was surprised to find my classmates!

We were all best friends instantly it was just meant to be! The program was amazing. The end.

hahahahahaha just kidding… I’m just trying to use short cuts to not tell the story because I’m tired.

Everyone one was very friendly despite the fact that most people had not slept in at least 16 hours.

(I’m going to need to speed this up, I’m trying too much to write this moment by moment)

Anyways, we met the academic director, Kevin Connors and he put us on a bus to go to stay in a Hostel-castle (Assumburg) in Heemskerk, a weird suburb of Amsterdam near the North Sea.

To be honest, these few days were kind of a blur. I was jet lagged, on antibiotics and totally out of my element. Plus there were over 120 blonde dutch children running around the hostel for pre-semester orientation (camp?). No school ever did that for me.

As sleepy as I was, I met the other 25 students and got a chance to bond with them at a very scary/exciting part of the trip when we were all anticipating the chaos of classes and Amsterdam.

We also got to learn some Dutch! (actually minus explanation point). Dutch is a really hard language!!!! There are so many stupid diphthongs! Why would Spui, meaning literally drain (or something) ans is the name of a lot of streets in A’dam, be pronounced “Spow.”

Hoe gaat het = how’s it going/how are you

pronounced “who hhchhhhhhhhhhhhaaat het”

???????????????

Anywho, after staying in the Hostel, we traveled on a bus to a fake 17th century Dutch village and then came to Amsterdam.

The canals! The blondes! The bikes! The depravity! (just kidding about the last one?)

I was very confused about the city at first. There seemed to be no logic to the positioning of the streets. I got lost many times with my fellow SIT mates.

The city is clean, beautiful and charming. It is very small and does not have many high buildings.

Anyways!!aeklhglsdkhgt There is way too much to talk about. I’m going crazy thinking about it.

By the way, the only good food in the Netherlands is Turkish/Morrocan/Halal food.

No more Bread, Meat and Cheese!!! Do they eat vegetables and fruit here?

It’s actually fine haha.

So, I’ll cut to the chase now.

Today I met my host, Otto.

He is a funny and nice man. Reserved and sometimes in his own world. I guess that’s kind of like me.

Like most Dutch people, as I have found, he is forward, to the point and not fake. People here do not go out of there way to flatter and or pamper others.

It is actually kind of refreshing. At least, I have no expectation for there to be friendly service and or random interactions, like in the US.

After talking to him for a bit, I found out that he is Gay and half-Chinese half-Dutch. This is very interesting. Hmmm I wonder why SIT placed me here?

Anyways, Otto lives in Noord Amsterdam, which is a 3 minute ferry ride and 10 minute walk from the Red Light District/ Centraal Station. It is a multi-ethinic, middle class neighbor hood, which seems quiet and a nice place to come home to.

Is this Otto?

I am getting a long with him very well, although I think he is a little uncomfortable since he is a first time host. I’m uncomfortable too haha.

Anyways, we went over all the rules of the house, which seem usual and fair.

I still don’t know what I’m going to cook for myself…

After I settled into Otto’s house in Amsterdam Noord, he took me out to Pizza near the red light district and then for a drink at a small gay bar. Very nice thing to do! He seemed to think that it was a failure though haha. It seems inappropriate here to compensate by thanking people a lot and buttering them up. No bullshit.

I’m hoping I’ll get used to the personalities here. I’m just so used to being polite and smiley!

I have not even left for Amsterdam yet and I have had my first mishap. Yesterday, there was a wind storm in New York City and I think some particulates must have landed in my sinuses and ear canals. I woke up with sore ears and a face that felt like it had a lead mask on it. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had the suspicion that I was getting a sinus/ear infection, which I get at least 3 times a year. So, I bough a lot of Sudafed, Guaifenesin and Advil (the usual cocktail) to try to eliminate the symptoms in the hope that my body would be able to fight off the infection. Claire suspected that I was being a hypochondriac. I understand this completely given that growing up as her twin she has seen many imagined illnesses: apendicitis for every stomach ache, brain tumor for every headache and hernia for every pain in my groin (TMI?). The next day, however, my symptoms got worst and I started to panic. How was I going to get antibiotics in New York City 2 hours before I have to leave for the airport?! So, I had a mini tantrum and was a big jerk to Claire and Abhay (I’m so sorry!!!). In the end, the ‘rents intervened and got my a scrip for a Z-pack. Hopefully, I will get well soon and my eardrums will not explode 20,000 feet above the earth. 

Today I fly out from JFK in New York City.

This seems so unreal. I can’t believe that this is happening.

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