Merry Christmas, 2012

When I left my apartment around 10:00 this morning, I thought I'd stepped on a stage from 28 Days Later. The neighborhood was completely silent - no cars, no bikes, and no talking. I only saw a few people walking their dogs, and I only heard a tram rumbling in the distance. When the tram passed me, I saw only a handful of passengers. 

Note another photographer in the lower left.

My first destination was the Rijksmuseum, which I also went to on Christmas day last year. Seems like a good time to visit one of Amsterdam's most popular and crowded museums.

I prefer it to the Van Gogh, both in terms of the aesthetics of the building, and in terms of the style of the art. Most of the paintings depict Dutch life (well, at least wealthy Dutch life) hundreds of years ago, with rich oils paints colored on large canvases.

This apparently symbolizes Catholics (right bank) and Protestants (left bank) "fishing" for the loyalty of followers.

Rembrandt's famous De Nachtwacht (The Night Watch)

After the Rijksmuseum, I followed the Herengracht (one of the canals in Amsterdam's canal ring) to the Bijbelsmuseum (bible museum). The museum was unremarkable. There was a room containing sketches of biblical scenes, and another with hundreds of copies of the bible, and some information concerning the different translations of the bible and conflicts between groups based on translation, but apart from that, many of the rooms didn't hold to a "bible" theme. The museum had a nice garden - a major selling point, apparently - but it is much more appealing in the summer than on a cool, dreary December day.

A room looking toward the garden in the Bible Museum.

Evidence that I indeed took these pictures.

Some biblical figurines. I was a bit puzzled by the cheesy projected backdrop.

My final museum stop was at Our Lord in the Attic, a preservation of a clandestine Catholic church created in the 17th century. After the Dutch rejected Spanish influence from the Netherlands around that time, they outlawed Catholic worship. A wealthy merchant who happened to be Catholic created a secret Catholic church in a narrow Dutch house (and, actually, the attics of three adjacent houses) where Catholics in Amsterdam could worship. According to the audio tour, the Dutch government knew about the church, but decided to not enforce the law given the worship was not harming anyone (this sounds remarkably like the current Dutch policy toward marijuana). At some point in the 19th century, the Dutch rescinded the ban on Catholic churches, and "real" churches were constructed. After being abandoned in favor of other venues, the church in the attic was purchased by amateur historians who wanted it preserved.

And, hence, the museum.

With that, Merry Christmas to all my friends and family.

Warme Wintermarkt

While riding home from my first yoga class in five months (something called "power yoga," which apparently involves a lot of grunting), I noticed that the Albert Cuypmarkt was open. The street is usually empty of vendors on Sundays (in a bit of a depressing and mildly creepy way), but it was the site of the "Warme Wintermarkt." It didn't seem any different than a normal day at the market, except that a few stands were selling Gluhwijn (mulled wine), there was a small pony area, which I think was some kind of manger scene, and there was a small group of people singing.  

The Cuypmarkt sells a lot of cheap clothes, toiletries, and trinkets, but I usually only buy food there. Many of the signs are marketed to tourists, or at least English speakers.

The ubiquitous herring stand.

I passed on the cookies, fresh french fries, herring, chicken, and fresh stroopwafels in favor of poffertjes, a Dutch mini-pancake. The vendor makes them fresh on a skillet designed specifically for poffertjes, and he passed them on to his wife, who smothered them with powdered sugar and added a healthy pad of butter. And extra 50 cents would have gotten me Nutella to go with is. I figured the butter and sugar was enough.  

This was the first time I'd seen turkeys at the market. Note the prices - one of them is 66 euros (approximately $90). Apparently the industrial meat complex in the Netherlands has not been able to provide the same prices as the U.S. system has.

Child at the fruit and vegetable market. Kind of adorable.

The Dutch Christmas season - well, the small slices that I've observed - seems more focused on family time and relaxation than gift giving (they have a different holiday for gifts in early December). The whole things feels a bit more wholesome. At least in Amsterdam, where there are few malls and big box stores to drown things like carols in conspicuous consumption and stress.

This pony almost hit me in the face. 

And, as is typical, there is a little bit of intimate/sexual material in the market. This still strikes me as a little odd. 

Yes, the chocolate penises are still here. And yes, I'm still amused by the Dutch term "Massief Geintje."

Amsterdam - City of Lights

Someone (Dutch government, Amsterdam government, arts community, business community) organized and implemented the Amsterdam Light Festival, which runs for a little over a month in December and January. My friend Dan and I walked along the Amstel into the city center a little after 6:00pm on Sunday, and half of the route happened to be along the "Boulevard of Light," which includes free standing, illuminated artwork and beams of light projected onto existing structures, like bridges and buildings.

One example - a blue...something outside of a generously lit Amstel Hotel.

Naturally, it had been dark for almost two hours by the time we passed the photo above, but it was still quite early in the evening. The small streets lining the river were crowded with pedestrians, many of whom were Dutch rather than tourists, whom you'd typically see in these locations. Older couples took pictures, and families with children played in some of the interactive pieces.

The raindrops decreased the sharpness of the photographs. But, in person, they danced lightly in front of the light beams.

And, below are two mundane pictures of the area that one could see nightly.

Rehearsal

While running errands on Friday afternoon in the city center (a too long delayed Dutch-English dictionary, and a guidebook for an upcoming travel adventure), I heard a faint bass rumbling above the din of the tourists and Christmas shoppers milling around. I followed the sound - partially based on a guess of where it might be coming from - and I saw that a group was holding a full rehearsal, including lights and camera work, for an upcoming concert. Only workers and performers were allowed within a few hundred feet of the stage, and a small crowd gathered along a metal fence around the perimeter to listen to the show. Apart from the brief comments from the director between songs, the performance was (I'm guessing) indistinguishable from what would happen later in the evening, when the square would probably be packed shoulder-to-shoulder. The preview was enough to make me set an intention to return that evening, when the full light show would have been on display, and crowd would been energized. But the steady rains and just-above-freezing temperatures convinced me to stay indoors.  

I also saw, for the first time, a duo who specializes in drawing a hoard of pidgeons. I'm not sure if they're making money off it, or if it's a hobby. 

And, for the first time, I stopped in the Magnaplaza, which contains the types of shops I would never patron (in the clothing sense). It did have a nice Christmas tree, though. 

Biking in the Snow

The temperatures "plunged" to under 30 degrees every day this past week, and, as one might expect, snow replaced the usual rains. The cooler weather and the snow cleared the bike paths of most of their usual riders. Only half of the slots in the bike racks were used at work; usually they are completely full by 10:00am.

I was surprised last year at how the locals handle (slightly) cold weather. Instead of sharing these thoughts again, I will share what a (Dutch) Facebook friend posted on Facebook on Wednesday:

Once, once my dear friends, we were a great Nation. Dutch people feared nothing, we kicked the asses of the English, the Spanish ( sorry Sinterklaas) and the portuguese. We discovered and conquered new worlds, we invented multinationals and the stock market (ok ok, not our brightest moves)....and now today, the news I read is this my dear friends: In bold and bright typeface, our national weather

 service is forecasting: EXTREME WEATHER. 

What extreme weather is this you ask? Is Hurricane Sandy on her way? Is a Tsunami coming? No. It means an average of 5-10 cm of snow tonight.

It saddens me every time I read these things (sniff) and when I see people struggling forth tomorrow in those 5 cm's of snow, or whenever 5 drops of rain fall from the sky... It is at those moments in time (I wish I could say rare moments) when I realise more than ever, that we, the great Dutch people...the front runners....the conquerors....have turned into a nation of FUCKING PUSSIES...(sniff sniff)

Dear, former great and awesome, Dutch people, this extreme weather is what the rest of the world would call: A NORMAL WINTER! So get a life, stop whining about snow and stop being pussies, you are a disgrace to men like Tromp, De Ruyter and William of Orange. Now make us all proud and run those damn trains like snow does not exist! (I think by now NS means National Softies). Make me prouder and drive your cars on the left lane like those Germans. Let's try to "unpussy" ourselves before it is too late! Before you now it we will not have an Elfstedentocht anymore because the ice is found to be too slippery and dangerous...

I took my friend's advice and biked to work on Friday morning. I saw about ten other cyclists in the five kilometer ride. I do have one complaint, though: my hand became numb when I took the following biking video:

Biking to Dutch Class

I just completed an "intense" Dutch course over the past two weeks. It met Monday through Friday, four hours per day for two weeks. The bike route to the class was different than what I take to work, and it gave me a chance to record biking closer to the center of town in the morning:

More comments and information on the Dutch language later.