Hampsterdam

After arriving to the country of my dreams I took a deep breath of the Amsterdonian air and was pleasantly overcome by the aroma of culture. Smiling from ear to ear me and my traveling companion, best friend and roommate Paige headed to a souvenir shop where I purchased a map which inevitably became my life for the following four days.  Heading toward Prins Hendrikade we realized that we weren’t headed to Prins Hendrikade. We stopped a jolly looking Amsterdonian who took it upon himself to walk us all 500 feet from the train station to our hostel. This was our first taste of the generosity and chivalry most all Amsterdonians conduct themselves with. When we arrived to “Hostel Croydon” the alleged “shit box”, we were surprised that it wasn’t in fact a shit box at all. After receiving our bed and locker numbers, we headed to our quarters where we were greeted by three sets of stairs that walking up was as if we were rock climbing. This becomes a problem later in the story…

 Headed into the depths of the red light district, where we conveniently resided, we wandered into a coffee shop called Hunters where we met our new pal Isseh, more commonly known by me as Ishmael. Ishmael tore up my brand new map with circles and arrows informing us of all the phenomenal things Amsterdam had to offer two curious girls ready to explore. We took his first and most appealing advice to go on a tour of the canal. Something I did not know before descending into Amsterdam is that it is surrounded by water, and consists of a plethora of canals that lead to the ocean. This boat tour was the first of several phenomenal stories. While learning a colossal amount of information about the city Paige and I were in ecstasy, absorbing the atmosphere, the water, sun, sights and beauty that surrounds all of Amsterdam. At the moment we reached the ocean I found myself feeling more thankful than ever that I was privileged enough to be with such a great friend, on a boat, in the ocean, in Europe, how many people can say that for themselves at age nineteen? At this point I was being amazed by a gigantic sailboat and the stunning architecture of “Nemo”, this feeling of bliss was soon to disappear into a feeling of laughter and awkwardness. Suddenly our captain jumps up out of his seat marches to the back of the boat and starts SHOUTING at this man whose buttcheek was hanging into the isle. After one warning that the man was blocking the rearview mirror the captain deemed it appropriate to banish him and his group members from the boat! So, he grabs the man and starts screaming at him in shattered English. Unable to understand a word the captain was saying the man was left extremely confused and flustered at the captain’s rash and sudden behavior. This man and his group of five were abandoned approximately thirty-forty minutes away from the docking area.

The second day Paige and I met up with the 10 other Loyola kids that were meeting us there. Together we headed to the Heineken museum where we were all come by a strong sense of brand loyalty. After some of our “friends” got into the museum with a discount coupon the vendor who was handed out tickets didn’t see this as fair so he hooked me Paige and Marissa up with a bunch of extra wristbands that accounted for two beers each. Needless to say this left the tree of us feeling extremely loopy. By the end of the tour no one wanted to wait for us to finish our complimentary brews so we were left behind like usual, but this was no problem. After being left at the museum the three of us saw this as a great networking experience. We put our game faces on and introduced our selves to all the cute local Amsterdonians that worked at the museum. One of the workers named Jesse told us he was going to a local hot spot called ‘Bitter Sweets’ and that we should meet him there later. After almost a full nights work of bar hopping Paige and I headed over to Bitter Sweets which was only 5 min from our hostel on the way we met these two young lads named Taz and Koen who showed us the way to the bar. When we got there the line was around the corner so the charming young fellows shoed us the way to another Amsterdonian bar called NOL.. or noel. Here we were ambushed by a bunch of Amazonian’s who couldn’t speak English. It was great. 

The third day was the most moving day of them all when we went to the Anne Frank museum. I would highly recommend this museum to anyone that goes to Amsterdam. While the line appeared to be very long me and three other group members only waited for 20 minutes and everyone else chickened out which was a big mistake. The house was surprisingly big, a seemingly good perk for a family who feared for their lives on a daily basis. At the end of the museum they showed a film of Otto Frank doing an interview. He spoke about how he obtained the diary and how when Anne was little she made her father promise never to read it. While he felt he was going against her wishes, it was something he had to do in order to feel close to his daughter again. He said one thing that I’ll never forget, that no parents ever REALLY know their children. No matter how close you are to your kids they have deep and complex thoughts that no one could ever have fathomed they would have. 

All in all I LOVED Amsterdam; the people, the food, the transportation system, the museums, EVERYTHING.