Return from the Other Side

Just got back from Strasbourg, where I spent a good part of my Toussaint holiday. On the train to Strasbourg with one hour to go a black man wearing Ku Klux Klan regalia boarded and sat two rows ahead of me. The face masked was pushed up over his forehead to reveal his dark eyes floating on his African face as if they worked independently of each other. A few seconds after taking his seat I began to hear the strangest noise coming from his quarter, what sounded like a pneumonia cough. I thought this self-hating individual was nearly drowning in phlegm when I looked at the horror on the French woman’s face seated across the isle from me. In that brief moment I perceived that this very black man in a white costume with a pointy white cap was spewing his cheap beer into a flimsy plastic sack as if he were casually reading the paper with a train full of disgusted travelers looking on. I am not ashamed to say the I was the second person to leave that car, right on the heels of a very green-looking French woman.
Jenny and I originally planned to go to Barcelona, but when her train ticket hadn’t arrived by the time we wanted to leave I just went up to her place and we made our way to Amsterdam for the weekend. To say it was awesome was an understatement. Friday night when we arrived we found the first smoke shop, happened to be The Rokery. We then proceeded to walk around the city and get lost for awhile until we went to our crappy hotel/hostel and dropped our backpacks off. Then we wondered to some more coffeeshops and proceeded to get the full effect of Amsterdam. We found our way back to our hotel by midnight and slept well, even tho one of our rooms mates was an Italian with a gas problem.

I should address the issue of drug use and Amsterdam for all of you judging me as a foolish girl who needs psychedelic assistance to see the beauty in the day. Pot is legal there and is smoke freely but responsibly by the Dutch. I don’t think it is for everyone, and I can surely enjoy the color of the sunset without it. You cannot judge it from abroad, but if you saw Amsterdam in action you would see that the legalization of drugs actually saves peoples lives.

Anyway back to Amsterdam, on Saturday Jenny and I were up and early to go get a bagel and rent a couple of bikes from a great place called Frederic’s by the train station. With wheels we were mobile in the most ideal sense possible in Amsterdam. Since the city is flat, the preferred method of transport by the locals is bicycle and the city accommodates this lifestyle like a mother accommodates the hunger of her children. Cars and bikes hold an equal footing in street politics and the roads are constructed to reflect this with huge bikes lane protected by raised curbs. Bikes give way to cars, people give way to bikes, and everyone gives way to trams. That being said, life on a bike in Amsterdam is so pleasant that if I should ever live there I will never dream of purchasing a gas-guzzler. We decided earlier in the day that we were going go to the Van Gogh museum. So went to the Ryks museum and then like the true dumbasses we are we went riding off a couple blocks south to try to find the Van Gogh museum. By the time we made it back to the green field we rode across we realized we actually drank a cup of tea in the shadow of the museum an hour earlier. We left the museum after looking at many swirling paintings and somehow completely missing Starry Night. The next hour we spent watching a hot air balloon in the shape of Vincent Van Gogh’s head be blown up in front of the museum. I joked that I would have never became lost and left the museum pavilion if they had decided to schedule the little show two hours before. What we decided to do next will be my fondest memory of Amsterdam for many years to come.

We went behind the museum, unlocked our bikes, and decided to take them to Vondel Park. Upon entering the park I saw the most beautiful autumn colors I have ever seen in my whole life splashed upon the canvas that was the landscape. Every turn held a new body of water, a new flock of birds, a new weeping willow grazing the surface of the water, a new scenario for my mind to grasp and let go. Fresh crisp air filled my lungs as my cheeks blushed from the cold. Jenny and I rode around that park for hours and hours laughing and watching the scenes roll by. At sunset we jumped off our bikes and watched the sun go to bed as it lit the sky a color pink that was once reserved for the flamingo. Then we hopped on our rusty steeds for another hour and a half of soaking in all the colors and scenes of the park until the chilly weather forced us to seek shelter. I cannot explain the way I felt watching a beautiful stretch of path laid out before me with the limbs of tall trees kissing overhead as autumn leaves dropped like tears. Oranges, reds, and yellows all spotted with brown reminded me of the Autumn I had always heard about in California but never experienced. I saw my life as perfect. Perfect for the ability of my body to ride this wonderful bike. The perfection of my eyesight. The perfection of a moment that so many people will never share. I felt truly blessed to be alive and in a position to see my good fortune.

Jenny and I had dinner in an Italian joint after the park. We road around for awhile longer, but by that time my narrow skinny ass had had enough of the bike seat and we headed back to the hostel. Sunday morning we woke up, ate some yummy falafel, and grabbed the train back to Strasbourg. What a great break.

For Christmas I do believe that I am going to Goa, India for a little beach and a little party!!!