Reflection

So my trip is done. I'm back in the states... back at my job (until I start grad school). It's a little sad, yes. I mean, I just had the time of my life. I had an incredible experience that was exciting, adventurous, changing, evolving, compelling, ...and fulfilling. I did so much. I:

• saw some of the greatest art ever created
• found the ruins of some of the oldest civilizations on Earth
• hiked some of the most beautiful coastline in the world
• watched the sunset over the Italian Mediterranean
• ate the best pizza in the world
• floated down a raging river
• saw the effects of some of the most oppressive governments to date
• watched the Eiffel Tower light up at night
• traveled under the English Channel
• tasted some of the best wine in the world
• had a plate broken over my head
• watched the sun set at 11:30pm
• saw how blue the Mediterranean actually is
• got scammed
• stood in the same place as Socrates
• ate a Hamburger in Hamburg
• gave everything in my pocket to a homeless man
• stared at the most beautiful ceiling in the world
• drank in the capital of every country I visited
• went smile for smile with the Mona Lisa
• walked up to the top of a mountain
• watched a woman smoke a cigar (just ask me about this one)
• saw no less than 2500 paintings of the passion or cruxifiction

But the best part of my trip was all the people I met. I can't even try to remember every name, but it was great. Every new place, every day even, offered the thrill and opportunity of someone new to meet and something new to discover.

After such an amazing experience, should I be content to return to a "normal" life? I mean, consider for a moment your typical middle class nine-to-fiver. He spends almost his entire day making money to fund the moments he's not working (now and in the future). Now he loves his job, but he's still trapped in it. He has to go everyday even if amazing experiences are out there to be had. He's given up that freedom, he's submitted to the system in order to gain a little security in his future. ...I've just experienced the exact opposite of that.

Washington Dulles Airport

My return trip itinerary has left a six hour gap between connecting flights, submersing me once again in the portion of American culture that is the C and D terminal of Washington Dulles International Airport. It's something of a wierd culture shock. I miss Europe.

Getting off the plane, we, with a number of other flights, were herded through the bottle neck of baggage claim, customs, and TSA inspection where angry, frustrated travellers, worried that they'd miss their next flight, started yelling (in English!!!) at others who were cutting the mass of bags and people otherwise called a line. I turned and asked one of them when their flight was and then let them cut in front of me being that they might indeed miss it. I don't think it helped the guy to calm down much, but his wife seemed happier.

The fact that I had forgotten American culture simultaneously put the biggest smile on my face and a huge weight on my heart. My habits are still probably undoubtedly American, but I can see how Europeans must see us. I'm not used to seeing anyone else using a laptop or not getting stares for using one myself. I look around and see so many people talking on a cell phone... constantly. Many are carrying (fast or junk) food or huge cups of soft drinks while they're walking. It's all seems so post-modern and soulless. I smiled because I got away from it for two months... because I gained a better perspective on it. Most Europeans have cell phones, but only a few in a crowd will be using theirs at any one time. And I never saw one walking somewhere while eating or drinking (plenty of tourists do, though, myself included). As far as I noticed, they always sat down for their snacks, drinks, and meals.

But that's all the superficial crap. What really bothers me about being back here is the vibe that comes from everyone here. It's a subtle "I'm not going to let you screw me over by getting in my way" feeling everyone seems to have. I didn't witness that kind of anxiety in Europe. There's the same uncaring oblivion towards anyone the European didn't know but no fear that vulnerability shown today would come back to bite him tomorrow. I'm amazed I lived like that...

Amsterdam

What can I say about Amsterdam... the stories are all true. Whatever bliss you seek... you'll find it here. The atmosphere is very relaxed, though. I find most backpackers smoke all day then drink all night only to get up in the morning and do it all over again (with the occasional sex show thrown in there).

Since I don't smoke, though, I explored the city during the daytime. I could go on about The Van Gogh Museum, The Anne Frank House, or the calm, peaceful life the locals enjoy (they don't partake in the otherwise commonplace vice fulfilling activities offered here), but no one wants hear about that...

The Red Light District. It a strange and mysterious sight. The streets are lined with sex shops, video stores, neon signs, and opened windows with (moderately attractive) half naked women beckoning visitors to come inside. I've never seen so many uncomfortable, insecure guys walking the streets either. The most hilarious is the group of English men, probably hear on "holiday", who mask their discomfort with bravado, loud conversation, and a fake strut. But back to the topic at hand...

My second day here, I asked the desk at my hostel where I could see a good (possibly artistic) sex show. I was told to go to Casa Rossa. I found about four buildings along one street with that name, and stopped in front of one of them. I tried to get as much information from the guy who subsequently accosted me, eventually agreeing to see the show, which I thought was in the building in front of which I was standing. So I gave the guy my money, and he says, "Ok, follow me..." he takes me three blocks up the street, across the canal, back down another block, and into some unlabelled building. He hands my receipt to the ticket office guy and tells me to go up the stairs... I get up there to find a tiny theater and a woman performing a striptease that ends in an interesting use of a lit candle. The curtains closed and reopened with a couple dressed in hooded robes. They slowly disrobe to reveal that... they're not so attractive... and, furthermore, they continue with their show with absolutely no emotion on their faces whatsoever (also a condition the first woman had). The guy especially seemed to have a certain difficulty staying interested. After about ten minutes, the curtains closed again (thank god), and a voice came over a loud speaker saying, "We'll be back in half an hour with the same three shows." ...Yeah, so this, at least, explained the emotionlessness, and, apparently, I missed the first ten minute show. Needless to say... I got a little ripped off. I didn't stick around to see it again...

My last night here (my last night in Europe) was a little better, though. A group of us, after having a few beers and playing pool at the hostel, decided to go to the Bananen Bar. It wasn't until we got there, though, that we found, for a little extra, it included the show at The Casa Rossa, which was actually seven shows over about two hours. I'm going to leave out the details in case children stumble across this, but I'll just say one involved volunteers and a banana and another a cigar. After that, we went back to the Bananen Bar, which served us free drinks for an hour from naked bartendresses, who would, for an extra tip, perform some entertainment activities, one of which involved the same banana trick. So I have to wonder who came up with that one first... but, needless to say, it was a fun night and a decent way to end the trip of a lifetime...

P.S. Picture taking is something of a no-no in Amsterdam... so don't expect much from my pics server

Happy 4th

Hey guys... Happy 4th of July to everyone in the states... They don't have any celebrations for the date over here, but Amsterdam is more or less one big party all the time. Still missing the classic American barbeque... but it's definitely worth it. Only two days left.... :-(

Amsterdam: My first day

Well I've made it to my final stop, the drug and sex capital of the world that is Amsterdam. The second I stepped off the train, I was immediately hit with the smell of marijuana, and I knew where I was. It's a good city... especially if you smoke a little gaunge..... Breathe, mom... just breathe. I haven't touched the stuff... I went straight for the E.... haha.

I visited the Heineken museum and recorded this little cinematic masterpiece for everyone... it was a lot like the Guiness Storehouse in Dublin, except here they try to make it more interactive with multimedia shows and hydraulic seating. It's just kind of stupid, but they give you three drinks (of heineken) along the way. So it's not all bad.

The night train here kind of dicked me over for really going out since I got almost no sleep on it. I had to crash early, but not before hanging out in the bar at my hostel and having a more or less routine conversation with a girl from New Zealand, Adrian. I felt bad that she was dissappointed that I just wanted to crash at like midnight when she was all set to go out.

Copenhagen

I met a girl from Germany, named Vilsa, on the train ride here. She was headed to a music festival somewhere in Denmark, which sounded a lot like a Woodstock type of thing. Some how we got on a discussion on America's supersized culture, of which I feel like I have a bit more of a perspective. It was an interesting train ride to say the least. Another thing I was also wondering how the train was going to cross whatever body of water separates the island on which Copenhagen is from mainland Europe. I figured there was a bridge... but I was wrong. The train actually drove on to a ferry. and then drove off when the ferry reached the other side.

I also met a guy, Burt, an architect also headed to Copenhagen. So we joined forces to find a hostel. The one we found turned out to be a shithole. Apparently, the US doesn't allow beds to be as closely packed into a room as we found there (according to the architect). So I would imagine running a hostel in the US wouldn't be very profitable.

My guidebook didn't do a great job of describing all the sites I saw here. I walked around a saw quite a few of them, but I only went up to the top of the Rundetarn (Round Tower) to see the city. The more my trip has progressed the less I've been motivated to really go to any museums or galleries... only because they all seem to be the same. There was an art gallery here that was supposed to have works by Munch, which I did want to check out just to see if they had The Scream, but the place seemed to be under construction and I couldn't find the entrance if it was indeed open.

I only spent two days and one night here before getting on the night train out. I didn't go out to check out the nightlife here too much, and I didn't really care too much. Either I'm starting to feel like I've been there and done that.... or I'm just saving it all up for Amsterdam...

Christiania (Copenhagen)

What drew me to Copenhagen was a part of it I wanted to see called Christiania. At some point, a Danish king created a military fort along the shore here, which had been abandoned until some time in the late 1960's or early 1970's when some hippies and political activists broke in and began squatting in the buildings. They've stayed long enough for squatter laws to now apply to them. There they created a sort of hippie commune, which they consider to be their own territory. Up until last year, the main "street" (path), called Pusher street, openly sold marijuana and, I think, other drugs. But a police raid last year shut that activity down. In walking down the street today, I, nonetheless, got no less than four offers to be sold some hash.

Strangely, though, I felt a little uneasy walking through the area. Where with every city, there are a certain set of basic rules on which I can rely, I wasn't sure if those applied here. More than that I wasn't sure if the rules I live by would make me unacceptable here. Walking around for awhile, though, the people here seemed to look at me with the same insecurity, as if I found them unacceptable. Is it the same everywhere? Are we afraid that other people won't accept how we choose to live?