I chose this title for a number of reasons. The most literal way to read it lies in the realm of urban design and architecture. Look at a map of Amsterdam and you’ll quickly notice the unmistakable footprint of city-center. Like an orb-weaver’s web (minus a wedge in the NE), the city radiates out from the waterfront that helped to establish it as one of the world’s great ports. Its famed canals ripple out in concentric semi-circles as if a meteor crashed down and made blast rings. I learned from “Amsterdam - The History of the Most Liberal City in the World”, that these canals were dug out by necessity to make arable the former marshland where three major European rivers dump into the North Sea. Why they made the canals in rings, I’m not sure, but because they did, nothing is quite square.
Amsterdam is dense with street after street of row-houses and apartment buildings, every one of them custom built to fill the space between the waterways. Some angle this way, some angle that way, some lean, some sag, and all of them have that little pulley arm at the top like a hay loft to hoist stuff up through the windows b/c stairways are too steep and narrow. You hear New Yorkers talk a lot about “walk-ups”...they got nothin’ on the Dutch. Stairs here, it seems, were built by and for mountain goats, some barely offering a toe-hold. So yeah, the angles you find in the buildings and streets that result from the angles made by the ringed canals are the stuff of AP Geometry texts. Bust out the protractor.
From what I can tell, the Dutch don’t like laws, but they love rules. Trams will not wait for you regardless of whether you’re elderly/handicapped/running with kids in your arms. Credit cards aren’t really credit cards because the bank automatically withdraws any outstanding balance at the end of every month from your account. Business hours are precise, and landscaping is neat and tidy. The only grey area in Amsterdam is in the sky, the rest is black and white. In a word, the Dutch are orderly. Perhaps this also results from their geography and the fact that Amsterdam is on average 18 ft. below sea level. Without order, we’d all be swimming.
Amsterdam is dense with street after street of row-houses and apartment buildings, every one of them custom built to fill the space between the waterways. Some angle this way, some angle that way, some lean, some sag, and all of them have that little pulley arm at the top like a hay loft to hoist stuff up through the windows b/c stairways are too steep and narrow. You hear New Yorkers talk a lot about “walk-ups”...they got nothin’ on the Dutch. Stairs here, it seems, were built by and for mountain goats, some barely offering a toe-hold. So yeah, the angles you find in the buildings and streets that result from the angles made by the ringed canals are the stuff of AP Geometry texts. Bust out the protractor.
At a more philosophical level, the culture of Amsterdam from an outsider’s perspective might seem (as the title of the afore mentioned book proclaims) to be the most liberal in the world. Prostitution is legal, drugs are legal, healthcare and education are socialized, museums are well-funded, public transit works really well, hardly anyone drives preferring to ride their bikes (without helmets) instead, and there are over 100 nationalities represented in a population of about 800,000 people. (I just Googled to see what the national religion is, and >50% report either Atheist or Agnostic.) But as this outsider becomes more of an insider, I’m realizing that the Dutch are actually quite culturally conservative, and that the term “liberal” in the Dutch context is more akin to libertarian. Live and let live. Dutch people don’t smoke weed, but they don’t care if you do. Dutch people don’t hire prostitutes, but whatever floats your boat. Dutch people don’t believe in God, but of course you can build your church/mosque/temple. Dutch people don’t recycle or compost, but feel free. Do as you please, just don’t inconvenience the rest of us!
From what I can tell, the Dutch don’t like laws, but they love rules. Trams will not wait for you regardless of whether you’re elderly/handicapped/running with kids in your arms. Credit cards aren’t really credit cards because the bank automatically withdraws any outstanding balance at the end of every month from your account. Business hours are precise, and landscaping is neat and tidy. The only grey area in Amsterdam is in the sky, the rest is black and white. In a word, the Dutch are orderly. Perhaps this also results from their geography and the fact that Amsterdam is on average 18 ft. below sea level. Without order, we’d all be swimming.
Finally, on a more emotional level, on any given walk through this city, I find myself waffling between admiration/appreciation and skepticism/distrust depending on the angle from which I choose to look at things. The same back alley in the red-light district can be exhilarating for 10 steps and raise my hackles the next 10. I am both impressed and depressed by the architecture I gushed about in the first part of this post. I’ve never lived in a place so densely packed with people and covered with stone/brick/concrete. There are trees and gardens and parks, but there’s very little nature.
Most people I’ve encountered are polite enough, but few are all that friendly, even with an adorable little girl in my arms to break the ice. I’m sure locals can take one look and tell I’m not from around here. I don’t speak their language. I don’t eat their food. I don’t follow their politics/sports/TV shows or listen to their music or read their books. I’m a stranger in a strange land once swamped by water, now swamped by tourists. As an expat, I find myself in a kind of limbo between being one of those tourists and one of those locals giving me sideways looks and curt “hallos”. I understand, now more than ever, why immigrants tend to clump together to create their Chinatowns or Little Italies, and cannot describe in words how much it means to have Clara and Theo here to provide that sense of belonging and feeling of home. It’s only been a month, and I’m sure I’ll find my community, but for now, I am completely content with my community of 3.
Most people I’ve encountered are polite enough, but few are all that friendly, even with an adorable little girl in my arms to break the ice. I’m sure locals can take one look and tell I’m not from around here. I don’t speak their language. I don’t eat their food. I don’t follow their politics/sports/TV shows or listen to their music or read their books. I’m a stranger in a strange land once swamped by water, now swamped by tourists. As an expat, I find myself in a kind of limbo between being one of those tourists and one of those locals giving me sideways looks and curt “hallos”. I understand, now more than ever, why immigrants tend to clump together to create their Chinatowns or Little Italies, and cannot describe in words how much it means to have Clara and Theo here to provide that sense of belonging and feeling of home. It’s only been a month, and I’m sure I’ll find my community, but for now, I am completely content with my community of 3.
