As I mentioned previously, I have moved my butt to Holland/The Netherlands/Kingdom of Pancakes.
This move happened as suddenly and as thoughtlessly as all my previous relocations. Got an opportunity and grabbed it. I followed my disbelieving routine and until I saw the Bombardier Q400, that was to fly me to Schipol Airport, with its adorable propellers, I doubt that any of that information sunk in.
For the first two nights I stayed in the historical centre of Amsterdam, overlooking a canal. The weather was warm (it's actually psychotic) and the people were friendly. I find it important to state because, aside from the fact that the vast majority of Dutch residents of Amsterdam speak (perfect) English, there can be a cultural barrier. People come back with very mixed views from Amsterdam, claiming that people are either rude or the perfectly friendly hosts. It's sort of both. I find that when it comes to customer services, don't expect much ass-kissery as a foreigner. Amsterdam is a city with the highest nationality count residing here, and tourists are mainly here for the weed and the Red Light district. So the Amsterdam-Dutch are generally not bothered to deal with you and your demands as a customer with a forced smile and politeness. That being said, the other side of this coin is it is usually very easy to start talking to people and be upfront. I genuinely hate complaining or asking blunt questions in restaurants or shops because I like being polite and have a thing about fearing to hurt someone's feelings. Here there is no problem because folks are completely grounded and there is an air of realism to them. This is obviously nothing more than a personal observation.
Anyway.
The centre was a great place to stay at for the first few days. As usual, I had no problem transitioning to the new location. This is mainly because of the boats outside my window. I love anything and everything to do with boats and still write dreamy poetry when passing various canals on my way to work. Every single day. The following week I had moved (or rather, "have been relocated") into an area known as the Pijp (full of restaurants and small shops, across the street from the biggest market in the city). The scary part was moving in with the other female interns, then diving head first into a workload I only thought existed in movie montages, in films like The Devil Wears Prada. After I'd finish working on whatever jobs were assigned to me during the day, I'd stay late working on my degree project. I would come home from the office so late that my lovely housemates had a theory that I was actually out having affairs with older men.
No, I don't understand it either.
It was stressful and coming home to such elaborate gossip was just alienating. Fortunately, I ended up building a stronger bond with my work team and finished my degree far better than I had expected myself to! I believe that the geometrical facades of the buildings, the abundance of trees and the cinematic composition of the city and its people kept me far too inspired to give up on anything, even when they days were ridiculously taxing. Aside from bachelors and romantically adventurous couples, Amsterdam is the perfect city for European workaholics!
Until quite recently, I hadn't been able to walk about and get lost in the city, but I started jogging again and had guests over, and as we all know, guests and jogging are the best way to force yourself to explore the city you live in... Or at least come face to face with how little you know about the city you live in...
Stay tuned.
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