Visitors from the U.S., Part 1.5

This past weekend marked the second time that fellow former Burquenos visited me in Amsterdam. Well, I've downgrading the first visit to a half-visit given my poor Australian friend (whose anonymity I shall protect) came down with horrendous food poisoning and spent most of his visit on my air mattress. So this was the first and a half visit from a UNM alum.

Oskar, who did his Ph.D. in Anthropology at UNM with me, and his friend John, who did his Ph.D. in Tucson at UofA, shared a car with two German teenagers from Rostock, Germany (where they are both postdoctoral fellows) to Amsterdam last Friday. We met up at Beer Temple around 7:00pm, after I finished up at the university.

As a refresher, Beer Temple is the American-ish bar in the center of Amsterdam that often has Rogue, Flying Dog, Great Divide, and Left Hand on tap, along with a bunch of European beers that emulate American microbrews. Picture from December - the taps were quite a bit different this weekend.

After Beer Temple, we went to what is tied for my favorite bar in Amsterdam with Beer Temple and Gollem: Hesp. Hesp is a brown cafe (basically a cozy, wooden, candle lit bar/restaurant) a quarter of a mile from my apartment. They also have a large selection on tap, and also a few Americans (this weekend it was a brown ale; they occasionally have Raging Bitch from Flying Dog). After dinner, Oskar and John wanted to go outside for a cigarette. I joined them for the company, and also to discuss what the next part of our evening should hold. We were quickly joined by a short (5'6") man who was in a talking mood. He revealed that he is from Uganda, and he proceeded to share his thoughts on U.S. foreign policy, the Dutch people, the problems with African infrastructure, and, in a jaw dropping fashion the fact that tolerating homosexuality turns people gay and increases the rate of transgenderdness.

After standing in the cold for a while, and making small talk with several ridiculously drunk Dutchmen (including one who apparently lived in Deer Valley, Arizona, for several years), Oskar, John and I indicated that we were going to move on to another bar. Our Ugandan friend said, "Great! Where are we going?"

We weren't exactly thrilled with the tag-along. While bar hopping, we weren't really looking for continuing discussions involving anti-gay and/or anti-transgender comments, scolding about American foreign policy (however valid), and a je ne sais quois of annoyingness. Plus, he didn't drink, which is kind of a downer for three guys who are busy drinking. But John was one of these "the nicest guy you know" kind of guys, and Oskar and I tend to lean toward nice, and are definitely non-confrontational. So, instead of telling him, "you can't come with us," or being clever and saying, "we're going to the hardcore gay sex club," we shrugged our shoulders and let him follow. We ended up in a small cafe that, despite being just over 100 meters from my apartment, I'd never visited. After John and I chatted up the charming young lady who was bartending and drinking with the customers - and Oskar talked with our friend for the evening - we parted ways, with the three of us ending up back at my apartment.

The next day was spent in the ideal visitor-to-Amsterdam-on-the-weekend fashion, with a walk to De Pijp, through Sarphatipark and the Albert Cuypmarkt, past Museumplein, and on to the Vondelpark.

The oft-photographed view of the Amstel above the Ceintuurbaan bridge.

Sarphatipark

Building a nest and laying eggs across from the Red Light District in De Pijp

After enjoying strawberries and figs from the market, quiche and croissants from a French inspired bakery, sandwiches from a bread shop, and a bottle of pinot noir split between the three of us, we walked through the park and gazed at blooming flowers, groups of exercisers completing a boot camp class, runners, alcoholics grouped together drinking beer on benches and stoners sitting in circles on the grass smoking grass, and groups of tourists on their red rental bicycles.

After leaving the park, we found ourselves at my final favorite bar in Amsterdam, Cafe Gollem. Oskar wanted a coffee, so we stopped in and perused the impressive beer selection while watching the Dutch men outside knock back beer after beer after beer.

Oskar's coffee drinking pose

The coolest advertisement we saw that afternoon

There are many charming aspects to Dutch society. One of my favorites is that Dutch bars often have their own cats, who tend to be quite social with the customers who want some feline company. This one was open to playing with my backpack, lounging in the thin beams of sunlight that snuck into the cafe, and being photogenic.

The day went on, with more stops at favorite local hangouts, dinner at home, interactions with locals, etc. Other highlights included: meeting a ridiculously cool guy from Uganda later that night, and making him confused and boderline offended when we reacted by sighing and rolling our eyes when he told us he was from Uganda; seeing a man violently (and literally) thrown out of a bar later that evening; conducting qualitative observational field research on sex ratio and attire effects on dancing and drinking effects in bars; and convincing a bartender who controlled a music video program to play, among other things, It's Raining Men, I Will Survive, and this in a crowded bar where people were dancing:

So, this was practice for two visits from transcontinental travelers this summer. Matt and Denise, Doug/Ruben/Craig: I'm practicing for you. Hosting skills will be well polished.