Suspicions

Just when I think I have gotten used to my life here, something ridiculous always happens and I am left baffled again by the amount of odd situations that arise.

Every week, we eat breakfast and have devotion in small groups. During last week's breakfast, the doorbell rang. In our house of 25+ people, this is a very normal occurrence, so usually someone opens the window above the door to check who is there, and lets the person know that we will be down in a minute. Our front door is a few flights of stairs down, so sometimes the poor delivery man has to wait in the cold for a few minutes.

So at approximately 10:30 a.m., our doorbell rang and one of the house members, Katie, went to the window. Take note that Katie was wearing a woven poncho (or more commonly described in America as a "drug rug"). So she went to the window, opened it up, looked down, realized that it was the police, gave them a few seconds of a blank stare, and promptly closed the window.

"Guys, the police are here!"

Two of our guys and our house mom, Kimberly, went downstairs to open the door for the police. Turns out, the neighbors had called the cops on us due to a suspicion that we had a marijuana plantation in our house.

I don't know about everyone back in the States, but I find this quite comical. Think of our situation first from the inside point-of-view. We live in a Christian community in this great, big house of 25+ young people, all between the ages of 18 and 30. We all have crazy schedules at two different hostels, and there's always something different going on in our house. We're all very passionate and excited individuals, so if you put us all in one space, it has the potential to be very, very loud. We're so excited to live in such a cool city and we love to eat... a lot. Dance parties are a daily occurrence.

Now from the outside perspective. Our neighbors must think such strange things. 25+ young people are constantly coming and going from this huge house in the middle of Amsterdam. We have these ridiculously huge food deliveries every week and gosh dangit, we can be so loud! The windows are so huge and sometimes we catch people looking in on us from across the street when we are in the middle of worshiping Jesus, or having a strange-looking dance party in the laundry room. Did I mention that we're always coming and going at all times of the day and night?

Goodness, I can definitely understand why our neighbors are so suspicious of us! We have all been laughing about this for days. We have an infinite list of reasons why they may suspect us of growing weed, and what is the most funny to us is that it's false and we just keep confusing them even more.

I have just come to accept the fact that my life here is not "normal" and I will not go through a day without one of these crazy situations. This will make for many great stories when I come home, though.

I am not entirely sure if it's normal to see look-a-likes of people when living abroad, but I see the most random people in the most random places. For example, I saw Mrs. Kay, my 8th grade geometry teacher in H&M. Of course it wasn't Mrs. Kay, but I see people like this all the time. I also saw Johnny Long, my neighbor running through the park the other day.

I think it's my subconscious telling me that I miss home. Although, I don't need my subconscious to tell me that I'm homesick because, let's face it. I miss everyone!

Firsts

I have done just what I feared I would do: get too busy to write. Shame on me.

Anyways, the last month or so has been full of firsts, as well as the whole time I have spent here.

For the first time, I did my laundry by myself without shrinking, discoloring, or losing a single article of clothing. Real world, here I come!

I discovered what it's like to bike through the snow for the first time. A disaster, but still a first.

I was trained to be a receptionist in the hostel, so I worked my first reception shift by myself a few weeks ago. I really enjoy being at the reception desk. If it didn't involve sitting down for so long, I would like to work a job like that for a more long term position. But, sitting for hours on end is definitely not for me.

For the first time, I traveled between two countries without any help. Like a big girl. I decided to take a vacation, so I spend a long weekend in Munich, Germany, and Venice, Italy.

The train ride there was interesting. I left my house at 6:15 a.m. with my backpack and a train ticket. I had to change trains in Hannover in 6 minutes - a tight squeeze? So, my first time on an international train, and my first time in Germany. If you're curious, I did make the next train.

When arriving in Munich, I met my friend's mom at the train station and we took the metro back to her house. In my last year at Eastside, I befriended a German exchange student named Antonia, and she opened her home to me in Germany, so I had a really nice place to stay!

The following morning, I went to school with Antonia. For the first time, I went to high school in another country. Needless to say, it was really similar to my high school experience in the US. I slept.

On Saturday, we took a bus to Venice. I traveled internationally by bus for the first time, I was in Venice for the first time, and basically everything that came with Venice was a first.

In Venice, they were celebrating Carnival, which is basically like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but celebrated all over southern Europe. People dress up in beautiful masks and costumes, and the whole city of Venice has competitions, parties, and balls to celebrate.

In the afternoon in Venice, I had real Italian gelato for the first time. If I ever become terminally ill, I would like for my death bed to be moved to a gelato shop in an Italian city. I was in Venice for a total of 9 hours and I had gelato twice. I do plan to go back to Venice, and I do plan to break this record.

Antonia and I explored the city all afternoon, which was magical. The narrow alleys and the romantic bridges make getting lost in the city and easy and enjoyable task.

For dinner, we ate at a pizzeria, and for the first time, I ate real Italian pizza. I think I was meant to be fully Italian, and not just 12-point-whatever-percent. I was a little bit disappointed when we had an Indian waiter, but I have faith that there was an Italian chef in the kitchen.

Back in Munich, Antonia took me into some of the churches there. For the first time, I was in a church that was built before the 20th century. I sometimes wonder why the older the church is, the more extravagantly built it is, when our technology has advanced since then.

During my last day in Munich, we ate at a Bavarian restaurant, and for the first time, I had a real German pretzel. I don't think I will be able to appreciate those ball-park pretzels ever again. If anyone has the recipe on how to make them Bavarian style, please let me know. They were quite heavenly.

Experiencing all these firsts has made me really appreciate this time I have abroad. I really encourage anyone who is thinking about taking time out of their daily lives to travel, to DO IT! Really, you have to go Nike on this one. I'm really discovering a lot with my time of firsts.

Christmas

For Nat King Cole, it's not Christmas until "chestnuts are roasting on an open fire." For all the Dutch here in Amsterdam, it's not Christmas until "olliebollen" are in the fryer. And for me, it's not Christmas until I'm sitting around a table, decorating cookies with my family and Sarah Britt.

I guess that means it wasn't Christmas for me this year? Don't get me wrong, it was really challenging to enjoy myself around Christmas when all I could think about was being away from my family. But being away from home brought on a whole new way for me to look at Christmas. 

A week before Christmas, I was walking through Dam Square on my way back from buying myself some new gloves (I left my only pair at the doctor's office.). I have walked through Dam Square many times, and every time I walk through, I notice a man standing off to the side, begging for change. He always has a little mini-version of the large painted organs that are played throughout Amsterdam. His organ plays automatically while he shakes a cup for change. He's an old man, who hunches over and his eyes are swollen closed. Every time I walk by, I always try to put a few coins in his cup. This particular time though, I was just in a rush, so I hurried by him. But as I was walking away, I noticed that his organ was playing "Little Drummer Boy". 

I just thought about the lyrics as I was walking the rest of the way home. I have no gift to bring, that's fit to give the King. I kept thinking about it, and thinking about it more.

 I have no gift to bring, that's fit to give the King.

Here I am, in too much of a hurry to put my spare change in a poor man's cup, and grumbling around about how much Christmas is going to suck without my family.

 I have no gift to bring, that's fit to give the King.

Christmas! It was Christmas time! It was then that I realized that I needed to take a different approach to Christmas. It's not about me... it's about Christ! After all, it's not called Me-mas.

Shall I play for you? On my drum?

On Christmas eve, we hosted a caroling party with guests at the hostel. We passed out free hot chocolate and sang carols with guests. I was filled with this overwhelming joy that I can not even describe as we giggled out the lyrics of "Deck the Halls".

After our caroling marathon, a few of us went to a midnight mass. We invited along a few guests, so we were two bikes too short, and it was much to far to walk. So, I volunteered to ride on the back of someone's bike, so that a guest could ride mine. Thankfully, I was blessed enough to be able to ride on the back of a Dutchie's bike, which means I was safe. 

The midnight mass was in an Anglican church. I have never attended a service like that, but taking communion at midnight was really a great experience. The church itself is over 300 years old, so the architecture was also something fascinating to add to the overall experience. I didn't have my camera with me, but here is a photo taken with my phone of the church from our balcony seats.

In Amsterdam, there are extremely strict laws about preserving historic buildings. Basically, every building in the city that was built before a certain time is not allowed to be torn down, but must be renovated. So most buildings that were built before 1930 have staircases of death. Everyone was trying to preserve space. This is how I had to get to my seat....

After church was over, we rode back home through the city. While there were still people out partying and roaming the streets, like there are every other night, that night it was unusually quiet. I suppose it was a "silent night." I decided that I would take advantage of the silence and sing some Christmas songs. We probably looked like quite the sight- me on the back of a bike, riding through the rain on Christmas eve, singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs.

I have to say, it was the most fun I've ever had on Christmas eve. I saw a few people smile as we drove past, and some people even said, "Merry Christmas". The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear. Right?

On Christmas morning, I woke up to a house full of community members, awkwardly walking around the house with nothing to do. For the most part, everyone was spending Christmas away from home for the first time. We all came to the conclusion that we should make a Christmas breakfast, so a few of us made french toast and fruit salad, and we all ate together as one big family.

I may not have had my real family on Christmas, but God gave me a pretty great Shelter family to spend it with.

Since the hostels could not close for Christmas, we had Christmas dinner at the hostel with all of the guests that were staying that night. As part of the program, we showed a video that I put together with some of the staff members for the enjoyment of the guests. 

I hope you have as much watching that as we had making it! I am sure that all the guests got a good laugh out of their receptionist parading through the city with a bed sheet in her jacket.

Throughout the week leading up to Christmas, I received a few packages in the mail from family members. For some reason, this year, receiving gifts was so much more meaningful after they had been sent through the mail. I really appreciated every gift so much more, and the thought that went into them.

By focusing more on how I could make Christmas special for others, God made Christmas more special for me.

Then, He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum. Me and my drum.

Biking

Biking in this city is just dang hard. Before I came, I thought, "Oh, yeah, I know how to ride a bike. I'll be fine."

I was so wrong.

I feel less confident about biking now than I did when I got here. For some reason, when I was here with my dad in the first few days, being on the bike was fun and exciting. Perhaps it was because the bikes we rode were properly fitted to us and were worth more than 10 euros.

The first bike I was assigned, once I had moved into the community house, was a child's bike. That was the only one available to me at the time, so it was temporary and I would get a better one soon, since there were a few girls moving out. 

Riding the small bike was a challenge. Firstly, I looked ridiculous on a bike made for a 10-year-old. Secondly, it was impossible to get up the hills because the wheels were so small and I couldn't pedal hard enough. And, since the wheels were so small, I was traveling at a generally slower speed than the rest of the biking population.

The Dutch are not patient people, especially when it comes to biking. So, throughout my week of riding the kiddie bike, everyone was extremely rude and impatient as I tried my hardest to keep up with the pace.

So, when a larger bike came available, I was stoked. I could finally fit in with the rest of the biking population!

The bike was left for me in the bike room at my house, so before work one morning, I went and got my "normal sized" bike. I was able to get on the bike, but the only problem was that my feet did not touch the ground when I was sitting on the seat, and there was no room to lower the seat. So, every time I had to stop, I had to get off the seat to be stable on the ground. This would be okay if you were biking on the Swamp Rabbit Trail in Greenville, but in Amsterdam, you spend a good bit of time starting and stopping. 

I got used to getting on and off though. I developed visible definition in my leg muscles, so I wasn't complaining. Until one day...

I was biking to work in the afternoon, just cruising along, when I came upon an SUV parked in the street. If you have ever seen a picture of a street in Amsterdam, or better yet, have actually been in the street in Amsterdam, you know that the streets are barely wide enough for an SUV. I really don't know why anyone would choose to own an SUV in this city, but an SUV was taking up the entire street, so I had to get on the sidewalk to pass it. The sidewalks are also quite narrow, maybe a meter wide at some points. So as I was passing the vehicle, someone opened their house door in front of me, and since I was unable to put my foot on the ground to catch myself, I fell in to the SUV.

Probably a really hilarious mental image for all you readers. The man in the SUV rolled down his window and yelled at me in Dutch. In moments like that, I am glad that I don't understand Dutch, since I probably dented his fancy car, and he didn't sound pleased. Most of the driving population here is in the extreme upper class, so I have yet to see a car that I would feel comfortable touching, much less crashing my bike into. 

I decided that it was time to either go back to the kiddie bike, or ask if there was a smaller one for me. Thankfully, Hector, my house parent, had one that was a good size. This bike is more of an American bike with hand breaks and has three different speeds.

While I still am uncomfortable getting up to the normal speed of bikers here, and crossing a big road is still scary, this bike suits me much better than the other two. Now, I can focus on the art of biking in this city, rather than focusing on just comfortably riding the bike.

Here are two videos of my bike ride through the city on a more calm day, in a more calm section of the city:

It's quite enjoyable if you know what you're doing! I'm starting to get the hang of it.

Sinterklaas

I'm not quite sure how well I like Christmas here... The Dutch celebrate Sinterklaas Day on the 5th of December, which is basically the equivalent of Santa Claus in the US.

I talked briefly in my first post about how strange it is that Santa travels around with his black elves, but I still hadn't fully come to understand the weirdness of this. When people dress up as "Zwarte Petes", they paint their faces brown, put on red lipstick, and wear these strange clownish clothes. It sounds really weird, and looks really weird on cards and decorations, but in person, it's horrifying. Really. 

Before I talk about my first encounter with Zwarte Pete, I need to explain my preparations for Sinterklaas Day. Each staff member living in the house picked a name out of a hat, and had to buy a gift for them for 3 euros. So basically, a secret Santa kind of thing. On top of the gift, it is a Dutch tradition to write little poems for people on Sinterklaas Day. Of course, I picked the name of someone I didn't know very well...

Shopping for guys is hard, especially guys that you don't know anything about. So I figured, you couldn't go wrong with chocolate. The poem is what got me though... this is what I came up with.

If you can't read it, here's what it says:

Hey, Cam, I don't know you

But you seem pretty cool.

You're tall and you're handsome

And you rode your small bike like a fool.

I hear you're from Canada, eh?

Lots of snow, it has.

Make sure to say hey

Happy Sinterklaas!

Do I sense a poetry career in my future? HA. I thought I would make up for the bad writing skills with a drawing of Sinterklaas and Zwarte Pete.

The legend says that if you leave your shoe outside your door on Sinterklaas Day-Eve, Zwarte Pete will leave candy in it! So like a good little Dutch girl, I left out my shoe. Unfortunately, I had a late night shift at work, so I caught "Zwarte Pete" in the act.

I thought our hallway looked so cute with everyone's shoes outside of their doors! I felt like a kid when I woke up and ate some chocolate out of my shoe.

Throughout the day, kids go around and search for Zwarte Pete and get candies from him when they find him.  Lots of the Dutch people that live in the community house went home to be with their families for Sinterklaas festivities.

That night, we all had a party to open the gifts that we picked out for each other. Three of the Dutch kids living here organized the party so it would be authentic. At the beginning of the party, we sang some Sinterklaas songs to get us in a festive mood, and then, we watched a video.

To give you a better understanding of the holiday, you really should watch this video. But first, you need to watch "Gangnam Style" if you have not done so. 

Here is "Gangnam Style":

And here is the video we watched, "Zwarte Pieten Style":

Now, you think that this is weird and somewhat racist? Imagine two of these guys interrupting your party by banging on the doors, running into the room, and throwing candies at you. At this point I had decided that I didn't like the holiday. It was too freaky.

One of them sat on Cam's lap...

After Zwarte Petes had their time, there was a loud banging at the window right behind the couches we were sitting on. Keep in mind that it is snowing, dark, and we were on the third floor. Someone opened the curtains, and there was Sinterklaas, standing in the window. Of course, we had to let him in... As if this holiday could get any more strange.

Unfortunately, my camera died right as Sinterklaas was coming through the window, but I did get one picture of him on my phone when he came in the room.

I think that the Dutch kids hired our Zwarte Petes and Sinterklaas, but I'm still not sure who they are.

After that, I decided that I reeeeeeally don't enjoy Sinterklaas Day. I'll just stick to Santa... Oh, well. At least I got some nice soap from my secret Sinterklaas.

Misconceptions

It was a rough morning.

It started out by saying goodbye to my dad, so that's probably what ruined it for me. After I said goodbye, I got ready for work and started my commute. When I left the house, it was raining, but as soon as I started pedaling, it started hailing. The hail was maybe bee-bee (sp?) sized, which seems small, but when you're biking through it in the dark, and it's 30 degrees, it really sucks.

After getting to the hostel, I couldn't really do anything because my shift-mate hadn't arrived yet, so I waited... And waited some more... and some more. Until someone informed me that she had overslept.

During the shift, the pan that catches the oil from the grill overflowed. I swear, we mopped for like 5 years. But after everything was clean, 2 million pancakes had been flipped, and every guest had been served, we had some down-time to talk and get to know each other.

Since I had only met Ellie, my shift mate, one time, our conversation was mostly small talk like, "How old are you?", "How did you hear about the YHM?", "How long will you be staying?", etc. When we got to the question of "Where are you from?", she told me that she was from Ireland, and I told her, "The US, in South Carolina," to which she replied, "Oh, that's where all the rednecks live, right?"

I had to explain to her that South Carolina has really great parts that are not redneck-infested and that it really is a great place to live.

Thank you, rednecks of South Carolina, for ruining it for the rest of us.

Thankfully, my day changed for the better after that. My fellow new staff member, Sara, invited me to go walking with her. We walked to Dam Square and into the Hema (the equivalent of Target in the Netherlands) where we bought our "secret Sinterklaas"gifts for the exchange on Wednesday.

Our walk back to the house was really pleasant. We talked and walked in and out of bookstores and small gardens, and then... get ready for it. Really, prepare yourself.

THE SUN CAME OUT.

That was the view looking south onto the canal, but this is the north view! I thought it was too pretty not to share. Even though this side wasn't sunny, it was still pretty.

Anyways, I have to write a poem for my "secret Sinterklaas" and I'm not one for poetry! Wish me luck. I'll post how it goes soon. Goedenacht!

Reality

I suppose everything became real to me this morning as I started biking to work for the first time. It was pretty surreal actually. It was 7:30, still dark, about 35 degrees outside, and raining just enough to make it annoying on my face. Reality had set in.

Work consisted of serving breakfast to the guests at the hostel, which is located about 1/3 of a mile from where I live. While working, I spent time talking to one of my new coworkers about my impressions of Amsterdam and the staff so far. I don't have very much to judge from so far, but I know that this is a perfect fit for me.

But it's real, it's here, and I'm ready.