When in doubt...go where the tulips are.

Here's to next time

2009-04-19T19:10:00.010+02:00

Quick note: if you are just now finding this page, I am now blogging over at Geeky Travelers Wife.

Tomorrow morning we fly out of Schiphol for the last time on this journey. The chapter is closing. We could be out having a last hurrah in Amsterdam Centraal, but we are too solemn right now to enjoy life in a European city very much. It was really really hard to say goodbye to our congregation here. I managed to stay dry eyed only by telling people that I was determined not to cry because I know I'll see them all again sooner or later. I was too sad to even take pictures. I just wanted to soak up every last second of being in our congregation here. I am relying heavily on the generosity of all the others who were snapping away to get me those digital memories. My resolve lasted until our bus ride home when, just after pulling away from Geinwijk, we passed the family who first led us to the Hall on our arrival (Bortisie's) standing on the corner waiting for the light (on their way to the Twi meeting after the English...we only met together on Wednesdays) and smiling and waving their hearts out when the spotted us on the 47 heading to Bijlmer Arena Station for the last time. We'll miss you all so very much. So very much....

To Amsterdam Zuid-Oost, thank you for being so warm and hospitable to a couple of wacky American's in your midst, for helping us figure out everything from bus routes and Dutch greetings, to where to grocery shop and how to deal with the icy winter there. You've really encouraged us to stay focused on the more important things. We would have been lost without you.

Here's to every last one of you visiting us in California (or Utah depending on how the wind blows...) We love you.

See you round the bend.

Lanette's Amsterdam visit

2009-04-18T09:24:00.008+02:00

I've been bad again....can't seem to keep up with the blog and entertain visitors at the same time.

So, Lanette's here. We went to a Congregation BBQ the afternoon she got in (Memorial on Thursday before she got here was great btw, 259 attended for a 90 person hall), then took a canal cruise with a handful from our congregation Sunday afternoon, followed by a visit to the carnival in Dam Square. Wandered Amsterdam Monday to work up our appetites for Makafui and Claudia to make us chicken and beef jallof (delicious Ghanaian food) for dinner, Service Tuesday and had lunch at Naomi-Ruth's backyard bistro before heading back to the city and a hearty dinner at the Castle, packed our last bits up and slept a lot on Wednesday before meeting where the conjoined English/Twi congregation gave us a send off to remember... Thursday we hopped a train to Brussels where we played and wandered until the rain made us want to go in. We saw a little more before taking the train back to Amsterdam on Friday. We met a sister from the Papiamento hall in Den Haag on the train down, and a Dutch sister from Rotterdam on the train back. Always nice. We were supposed to visit the famous Keukenhof tulip garden on the way home, but didn't manage it. We passed some colorful rows of tulips alongside the train tracks a few times. That was enough. Today, Lanette's last full day in "our" lil city, we're heading back to Amsterdam proper to go to the Albert Cuyp market and whatever else we can ferret out.

She flies out before our meeting on Sunday, and we fly out on the same flight Monday morning. Back to the world we know...where I don't have to translate everything I see from Dutch to English, don't have to figure calorie info from 100 grams to whatever the package acrtually contains... no more carrying a jacket a scarf and a hat no matter how bright the sun is shining just in case it suddenly snows on you.... I can't even start on the things I will really miss because I can't take the time out for the sads yet....

Zandvoort and Matt's first 12K race

2009-04-01T23:49:00.051+02:00

So, after Matt and I found out that we would be allowed to stay in Amsterdam a month longer after all, we started plotting how to pack the most we can into the 20 days we have left to us. Actually,15 now...

We've had an ever changing ever growing restaurant must try list since we arrived. This little Ethiopian hole in the wall place called "Lalibela" (the name of a small town in Northern Ethiopia) made the list only last month. I've never had Ethiopian food before, and have been wanting to try it for a long time. We were not disappointed at all... We ordered Ethiopian beers, which were served to us in a polished halved gourde settled into a woven ring so it could sit flat on the table. Very tasty. Abay's the name. Labeled in Dutch, despite being Ethiopian. We decided what we were going to order based on our guesstimation of the Dutch description of what the dish was. Then our server who also appeared to be the owner, discovered we are English speaking. Then she brought us the menu in English.... We were mostly correct in our understanding of Dutch, and still ordered the same: one chicken dish, one lamb, one spinach goat cheese side, all served on a warm bed of squishy injera (traditional huge round of goodness) and cradled in a tagine like platter with a colorful straw lid which is whisked away as your servers make room and shuffle table decor out of harms way. Everything we ordered amazed us and kept us smiling through dinner. Dessert and coffee came with a stick of some kind of incense smoking up from a silver tray. The next day, I wanted to wear the same sweater and couldn't believe how much the scent of Lelibela had soaked into it. Think there will be good Ethiopian food in Utah? heh...

I have been saying since we first moved to Amstelveen that I would "one day" go to the Cobra Museum that is a 5 minute walk from my front door. I finally went one weekday afternoon last week. The cobra movement is a divergence from traditional art of the Dutch golden period. It has nothing to do with snakes...the name is an amalgamation of the founder's home city's names (Copenhagen, Brussels, and Amsterdam). It took the European art world by storm in the 1940's-50's. Now, the museum also houses contemporary art, such as the collection from Georgia on show when I visited. School groups visit often, and the museum seems to cater to the social elite who like to use the spare rooms for wine and cheese soirees. Typical museum behavior I suppose... Among the modern pieces, I found an artist I really liked. I have seen some of her work before, but I couldn't tell you when. Her name is Juul Kraijer, and her work focused on surreal quasi-self portraits in pencil. Some of it was a bit too out there for my appreciation, but like all art, it's up to interpretation.

Saturday morning, we went to the American bookstore for a refill, and then hopped the train to the beach town of Zandvoort. And look who we found at Amsterdam Central Station! Our newest addition to the monkey family, Aap. He joined us on the train. Using our 40% discount card, we got to the coast for a mere $3 a person, and although it was pouring rain when we left, by the time we got there, the sun was working it's way through the gray to bring out some blue. We hoped the sun would last through the next day for the race...

We did some exploring of the town after we checked into our hotel. Our room was on the 3rd floor, with no elevator, which made us worry Matt's legs after the race... but the room was nice with a view of the lighthouse at the end of the strand. The strand itself stretches from one of town to the next and is covered almost end to end with little beach hut restaurants and cafes. Since it's still really early in the season, and a few tractors were out busily flattening and shoring up open slots for new establishments. We stopped in one for a snack and a pint and watched some dogs playing in the chilly surf. We wandered basically what Matt would be running the next day to familiarize ourselves (especially Matt) with what to expect. We took a break to play games in a huge arcade called the Circus. Matt trounced me at dance dance revolution, and I recovered some street cred by dominating the hockey table ..I haven't played air hockey in so long... And they had my favorite old school video game, Galaga, which I had to take for a spin. Then we found a snack bar and killed some time playing pool and chatting with the locals about what life in a Dutch beach town is all about. Everyone there was excited because it's play off time for the world cup, and Holland was doing pretty well. We were supposed to come back later that night to watch on the big screen, but after dinner (Italian), and a night cap at an eerie, faded, chipped plaster, clown decorated place called the Harlekijn (Harlequin) pub where we were the only ones in the tiny room who didn't know everyone else (and their lap dogs) for the last 30 years... we decided to turn in early and get a good nights sleep. They all wished us slaaplekker (sleep well) and tot ziens (goodbye)....

Bright and early Sunday morning, we got ourselves ready, had breakfast at our hotel of typical Dutch fixin's: a variety of breads, lunch meat, cheese slices, hard boiled eggs, and yogurt. Basically, sandwiches. Matt really does appreciate the Dutch palette... After breakfast, we walked towards the north end of town where the Zandvoort circuit track is. When we walked past the train station, it seemed like an entire train from Amsterdam must have been packed with contenders, because our our group of walkers heading the same direction in trainers and stretchy pants went from 20 to 200 in the span of a block. The stands on either side of the circuit track where the races all began were slowly filling with family members and coaches. Matt was to run a 12k, but there were also kids races, a 5k, an 8k, and a slew of product sponsors and food vendors. A marching band banged their drums as we approached the mass of gathered runners milling around stretching and doing sprints and drills to warm up. I wish I could play a clip of the music...it was like umpa band meets techno meets Rick Astley... made us laugh. We got misted with rain for about 10 minutes and then the sun came back in full force for the duration of the day, thankfully.

After waiting for his start gate to open up and warming himself up, Matt disappeared under the stands, and I ran up top to watch. Two other races began before Matt's group came onto the tarmac. I was amazed at how many guys were wearing black shorts and blue shirts, because it took me forever to spot Matt. He emerged about two thirds back in the mass of runners funneled into the start position, and I watched as he and the crowd were herded to the start line where they finally began to run. After banking around the first corner, I watched until he disappeared from sight. Then I hustled myself to the beach, trying to be there in time to catch him as he ran up the strand.

Matt had 5 kilometers of paved race track to cover before he would leave the park, crest a small section of dunes, and curve down to the beach. So, I had about 20 minutes to get in place. I walked along the sidelines next to the runners striding past purposefully pacing themselves en route to the first hydration station. The ground littered with paper cups tossed aside after a quick chug made for a colorful and I thought maybe dangerous path for the runners to come. It took me 15 minutes to walk carrying our bags (his change of clothes for after). I found myself a log and copped a squat to wait. Even though it was still a chilly day over all, the beach was alive with families walking pets, building sand castles, and just strolling. When the line of runners appeared, it was obvious most of the beach combers had no idea what was going on, and stopped to watch the spectacle. Again, baffled by the amount of black shorts blue shirted runners, I almost missed Matt's approach. I took a video of him going past, and sprinted up past the column a ways to take this picture of him cranking away at about his 7th kilometer. Then I watched the seemingly unending column of runners pacing inexorably up the beach hoping Matt was getting a second or third wind. After the strand, the runners circled back towards the race track via the town center. I didn't try to catch up because I wanted to be there to catch Matt crossing the finish line. I didn't have to wait long after I got myself a place in the stands to see Matt triumphantly zipping through people to cross the finish line. Again, I almost missed him because he thought he would take at least 10 minutes longer than he did, and surprised me. He surprised himself too by beating his best time even though he was unable to train for the 2 weeks prior to the race. Not only were we stressing over possibly (we thought likely) moving back to the States two days after the race, but he also had a huge blister that needed time to heal before he pummeled it again. Just imagine what time he could make next time if he actually gets to work on it! I'm pretty sure he's hooked now...

If you want to watch Matt cross the finish line, click this link to Runner's World, and keep an eye out for a red head running in black shorts and a blue and gray shirt. Matt appears about the 11 second count down mark (it's counting down in red in the bottom left hand part of the clip). It's a pretty neat system they've come up with. Maybe it's standard practice and I just don't know it, but the runners tie a plastic device with a chip embedded in it to their shoe, and crossing the start line triggers it to start counting, and at regular intervals, it checks in that you are on the course, and at the finish line, it knows how long you've taken to run to course. So, the online page has video of Matt at each of the check points, as well as the finish line. And he got a medal. It's hanging on the wall in the hall way now. We took it out for a pint and an early dinner after the race, and enjoyed the last of the daylight in the town center. Matt showed me the parts of town I hadn't seen yet that he ran through, walking very slowly...joints and blister complaining... He showed me where the neighbors came out of their houses to cheer on the runners, where kids banged drums for them, and a little old lady told him by name to keep going and not give up (because their numbers also had their names printed too) and we closed our last day on the beach in Holland with a hotel room sunset, and some TV. We stayed another night in Zandvoort, and took our time about catching the train back to Amsterdam after our breakfast sammies and post card shopping the next morning.

Since that weekend, we've been trying to keep a "normal" routine even though we are down to a mere 2 weeks or so left here. Although, we've gone out for dinner more than average, and I have another museum planned for the morning, we're trying to keep our heads on straight, while squeezing the most that we can out of our last days in Europe. I've taken more pictures than is remotely reasonable...

EXCELLENT NIEUWS!!!! (that's news in Dutch)

2009-03-25T17:11:00.009+01:00

Matt heard late yesterday that he somehow won a concession from the powers that be. Dun Dun duuuunnnnnn: We get to stay here, live in our apartment in Amstelveen until April 20th.

This came after I'd already torn everything off our walls, ransacked the cupboards and drawers, gave away what furniture we bought for this place, and said our goodbyes to our congregation... Now, thankfully, we get to not only be here in Amsterdam Zuidoost for the Memorial on April 9th, but we will also be here JUST long enough for Lanette to still be able to use her non-refundable ticket and visit us. So many people in the congregation told us that they'd be happy to play tour guide and host for her if we had to be gone, but we are all SOOOOOooooo happy that we get to be both hosts and tour guides as planned.

We are still mulling the very likely prospect of moving to Utah when we return to the states. Half an hour from great ski resorts, a lake you can't sink in, and average summer temperatures that stay under 90 on average... It's not looking so terrible. Although it will keep us a longer distance from our families, it's a whole lot easier to drive for a day, or to catch an hour long flight to see them than it is to visit from another continent. So, there's that.

We went out for a celebration curry dinner and Matt woke up with a full blown cough. No that the stress of not knowing what was going to happen has lifted, I think his body thinks it has permission to give into the bad weather cold that's going around here. I'm determined that he will be well enough to run by this Sunday. I am still convincing him :) The sunny sky of a few days ago has turned to 3 days of rain and wind. I thought the atmosphere was just providing weather that fit our mood...so, by now it should be sunny again, but it's still storming! Maybe the world doesn't revolve around me after all....huh...

Volendam and Egmond aan Zee

2009-03-23T08:32:00.041+01:00

Upon hearing about our hasty departure, some of the people in the hall are trying to help us cram as much Netherlands culture in as we can in the short time left to us. Sunday after the meeting five friends from the congregation tried to take our minds off of our upcoming departure by taking us to see some of Holland's beauty. Even though we were both feeling despondent about our time here being cut so short, we (with the encouragement of our friends) determined to press on and pretend we're just out for a nice afternoon instead of dwelling on the depressing fact that it will be one of the last with these dear friends. The sun came out and tricked us into thinking it really is spring. By tricked I mean that later on we nearly froze to death walking back to the car :) Yup, still in Holland...

We first stopped in a fishing village called Volendam about half an hour east of us on what used to be part of the Zuiderzee, but is now the Markermeer. Basically, the natural inlet here has been closed off, and is classified as a huge salt water lake, instead of being the sea. We were told that the people born and raised here generally stay here all of their lives. It is only in recent times that people not born here have been allowed to buy houses and own property. Basically, they to view themselves as a separate culture to the rest of the Netherlands. They even speak a strongly accented dialect of Dutch unique to Volendam. When referring to the rivers of tourists that pour through every year, they include the Dutch inn general as foreigners.

Volendam is famous for it's fishing, and it's costumes. The clothing native to Volendam is what most of us outsiders consider to be typical Dutch, when in reality, the style wasn't really found outside of this town. We did our obligatory dress up picture with the Ploeger's, Sumiyo, Kuperus all dressed to match. We were trying to get an even more multi-cultural costume picture, but a lot of people from the congregation already had other obligations and couldn't make the trip with us. Regardless, I love this silly picture. I took a picture of our picture...The place has a stream lined dressing station set up. The hardest part is finding clogs (klompen, that is) that fit well enough that you don't fall over walking to the set. That and my dress had some serious B.O. issues. Naomi acquired a baby, and Matt had a pipe and a bottle of Bols gin thrust in his hand. Out of everyone I think only Rene and Robert look like they'd be comfortable doing a days work in this cumbersome getup. Yukiko, Sumiyo, and I look like tourists and Naomi's frames give away our modern era...I got a so-so picture of a really funny giant department store add of a modern woman in the same kind of outfit. Only, she had sexy makeup and her hair all done up tall on her head with one of these hats we're wearing in the picture but more curvy and back farther on her head, accented by a modern interpretation of the traditional coral necklace that signified the wealth of the wearer. I couldn't get a pic without a big reflection. It's funny how tightly people cling to traditions. I guess I do too...I traditionally can't stay put and have to keep moving countries.

While we were waiting for the photos to develop, we took a walk back along the water front to get a taste of Holland. We went to a cafe that had one side completely open to the sea. It's warm enough that people are sitting outside filling up the sidewalk tables. Only problem for me is that most of the outdoors people also smoke. I can't taste my food if I have to inhale their leftovers. So inside, we ordered beverages, and perused the menu. The didn't' seem to have traditional enough food to satisfy our tour guides, so we went back out to the street after our drinks, to find: Herring. Raw. With onions. I took a video of Matt tasting it first... he was all prepared to make a face, but it was actually really tasty. I'm never a fan of bones in my fish, but the old guy stationed at the end of the stand with his fast action boning knife was barely keeping up with the demand, so I didn't complain :) Sumiyo had a little more trouble with hers. She ordered kibbling which is a lot like fish and chips minus the chips. We were swapping bites of everything, and she looked like she wanted to spit out the bite of herring she tried from Matt. Naomi says you either love it or hate it. We were safely in the like it category, although, I won't put it on the list of things I can't wait to have again. On that list I have fresh mustard soup with smoked salmon in it, and stropwafles. And poffertijes. Can't spell it. Delicious, and uniquely Dutch.

Next up, Ploeger's and Sumiyo left us at Volendam, and Matt and I rode on with Kuperus to the "sea". We kind of thought we were already at the sea, but this time we were driving to the other side of Holland, and hitting the North Sea, as seen from a town called Egmond aan Zee, about another hour away. Matt was ready to go zombie, but the drive was kind of soothing. We drove through farmland and flower fields passing more typical Dutch windmills, extra furry little Shetland ponies, sheep with spring lambs in tow, and more birds than I could ever name, all framed in by canals.

You could see the town trying to break out of winter like a butterfly reaching to crack the cocoon. By the time we got there, the sun was starting to hid and the wind had kicked up, but it was still refreshing to have sand beneath our feet along the side of the main drag. We meandered through a few knick knack shops and perused the local landmarks, like the statue of old seaman Jacob Glas. We didn't walk out to the lighthouse, but it is a definite icon for this little town. We shared a "huh" moment with Kuperus when we showed them an Oregon brew in the towns liqueur purveyor: "dead guy ale" by Rogue Ales. Long way from home, Rogue.

We walked along the brick pathway, designed to look like waves underneath our feet, until bricks turned to sand, and sand turned to sea. By then the weather had really turned, and we spent mere minutes on the actual beach looking at the North Sea and picturing what this sleepy town would look like in summer time, full of tourists and noise. In a way, I like being here in it's down time better. I picked myself up an actual beach sea shell, as opposed to the kind you find laying around on any street in Amsterdam. We walked back towards the car, played some cross between rock-paper-scissors and heads or tails, and ended up stopping in to an Italian restaurant on the main drag for dinner. The did a great risotto, and we ended a long low key afternoon with a scoop of gelato and watched the wind whip things around out their big picture window until the check came.

Sudden Sadness

2009-03-21T22:19:00.026+01:00

For those of you that haven't heard the latest twist in our lives, here goes.

Matt came home early a few days ago with the news that we are being called back to the states. The real gut buster is that we have 2 weeks to get gone. And just to keep things interesting, we won't be staying back in California, we'll be transferring to Utah with the rest of Matt's team. Salt Lake City to be exact. Who knew?

I've been taking pictures of the things we pass every day. These are the sights that will bring back our whole life here in a single flash. The crocuses are blooming now in the strip of median grass on the way to the Kingdom Hall. It's beautiful. In service on Friday Naomi-Ruth took us by the shop that I first went to on my second day in the Bijlmer (Bail-mar). It's the shop every Witness in the area frequents for their delicious and reasonably priced digs. Shredded chicken with pickled onions and peppers dripping with spicy goodness on a crusty soft roll for a wee 2 euro's 50. Brilliant. These are the small gems that make memories.

We've been a little frantic with the shock of suddenly loosing 4 months off of our stay. Just a week and a half ago we were turning in our paperwork at ORLY Plaza to extend our stay until July. Now we find ourselves trying to cram in as much of what we will be missing out on as we can into a few short days. Greatest regret: remember how I was saying we were expecting a visitor, and "Yeah Lanette" for making it happen? Well, she can still visit, but we won't be here when she get in. We'll be at least a week gone by the looks of things...we're still waiting to see how that one turns out. I am more sorry than I can say, Lanette, for this ridiculous turn of events.

We went out for dinner Friday evening to our favorite Irish pub, and followed it up with some live music at the Water Hole. They had a Red Hot Chili Peppers cover band that did a bang up job. Dead on attitude, and good beats too. Tonight we had a couple from our congregation over for dinner. We had plans with them before we knew we'd be leaving, so it was good to be able to keep at least one of the many commitments we had before we go. We're also trying to get them to take the handful of things we bought to make this fully furnished apartment truly furnished. A wooden shelving rack, a hanging clothes stand to add some footage to the roughly foot and a half wide hanging space in the closet here... monster shower caddy, a rug, some pillows... stuff we have in Cali, and really don't need to pack and ship home. They're going to be setting up house in a few months here anyways. We had a make your own pizza party, complete with a nutella and creme fraiche pizza dessert. I think everyone thought I was joking when I said we were having pizza for dessert too. Crazy American...

I should be in bed by now. It's after midnight, and tomorrow morning is likely to be our last Sunday meeting here. We'll be in the Netherlands for the following Sunday still, but that's the when Matt will be running a 12k race on the coast in Zandfoort, so we'll be there the whole weekend. Matt wanted to cancel it, but I told him he should still run. He's been looking forward to this event, and had it as a goal for so long now, that it would be an unnecessary blow to have to bow out now. Just because we have to leave sooner doesn't mean we have to leave all of our plans undone.

I'm still trying to figure out how we can fit in taking the train for 2 hours and seeing Brussels. That was one of the things we were supposed to do with Lanette (surprise...) so I guess I want to still be able to show her pictures, and maybe send a postcard. These are the plans of Mice and Men, eh?

Tomorrow a group from our congregation is taking us on an outing to a fishing village called Volendam. Apparently that's the place to be if you feel like dressing up Dutch...

AdHd Schedule

2009-03-17T21:58:00.014+01:00

Here are some random pictures of my kitchen, living room, and Matt at his computer to accompany text I have no photos for:

It's practically warm here! I have scaled back my winter clothing. I'm down to a single pair of tights with bike shorts under my skirt or pants, and tall socks over the tights and only one long sleeved undershirt. I have even swapped the white "Micheline Man" stuffed jacket for my average California rain jacket. Most of the time...the wind still picks up from time to time to remind you it's not quite done with you yet. But the flowers have popped up in earnest and the sky stays blue for much longer now. Here's to summer in the Netherlands :)

Although I have no personal bible studies of my very own here, I am currently responsible for no less than 9 studies every week for a couple of sisters who are traveling this month. It has worked out very well to my benefit for my pioneer schedule, and I am already getting terribly attached to the people I've been privileged to study with on the absent sister's behalfs...behalves? heh

It worked out so perfectly too, one sis asked me to care for studies Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, and another asked me to look after a few Monday and Wednesday afternoon, and a Friday evening, and another has a Friday morning slot. I couldn't have worked it out so well if I'd tried. Thankfully, it's a temporary schedule. I don't know if I could keep it up ad nauseum!

Thank you for giving me the oportunity to try :)

ORLY?

2009-03-16T20:01:00.044+01:00

We picked up our residency permits finally (they've been ready and waiting for us for months, but they made the mistake of telling us that we had 2 months to pick them up...so we put it off) on Monday at a place called Orlyplein. Pronounced pretty much like it looks, but to Matt and I all we could see was the internet phenom the ORLY Owl. O really? Matt printed out the owl pic so we could firmly embrace geek-hood and take this photo. We tried to explain the joke to Joost, who was carting us around and helping us apply for our extension, but I don't think it made much sense to him. He was happy to help us regardless. It just so happened that we picked up our residency cards and applied for our extension at the same time. Hopefully our papers will get approval to keep us here through July just as easily as the first ones did.

I'm going out of order here... We enjoyed a very nice dinner at the Willimsen's house last Sunday after the meeting. It was reverse hospitality, since he had delivered the discourse at the hall that morning. Our only contribution was a bottle of Gallo from California that we stumbled across at one of the local grocery stores. Since we first dinned with them, early in our stay, they had gone out on Matt's suggestion and purchased Mario Party for the Wii. We took a few turns, guys against girls, and felt a lot like we'd never left California. Good family fun is universal it seems. Oh, and the guys won. I'm taking the easy way out and saying that it's not our lack of skill, but rather because their daughter had to be bribed with cookies to let the other girls take our turns...But I made Matt do the "guys win" dance, so really, we all won :) Barbara made a scrumptious lemon meringue pie for dessert. Matt volunteered to perform the meringue test. Having never made meringue myself, I didn't know what it was either... pretty much it's an excuse to hold a bowl full of whipped egg whites over someones head, and hope they're firm enough to not fall out of the bowl. Matt didn't need to take a shower, so it was a success :)

Our Congregation kills me in so many many ways... it makes me laugh at a constant stream of inside jokes that everyone is in on, and it makes me cry when I think of leaving in just a few months. Here's a brief example of the random hilarity that goes on in our little congregation meetings:

Last Wednesday's Theocratic ministry school was getting a little behind schedule, talks running over time as they will. The brother conducting the congregation Bible study slowly winds up the study, entertaining just a few last comments, when his brother in law, the next speaker up, suddenly stands up, walks up the steps, turns toward the audience, and ever so slowly, takes the microphone away from the conductor, and angles it towards himself and says "that's all the time we have I'm afraid." The bible study conductor steps aside, befuddled, but clearly dismissed. That in itself has most of the congregation laughing uproariously. A sister behind me says "only in our congregation..." as she shakes her head, snickering. As that brother's part (also a question and answer part) also starts to go overtime, the congregation gradually becomes aware of a particularly tall brother slinking up the side aisle, turning the tables on the first brother to redirect the stage microphone. Finally the speaker spots him too, realizes he's now the guilty long talker. The speaker who started the whole thing stands there on stage, giggles, turns bright pink and laughs along with the rest of us as he admits his maneuver of dismissal has come full circle...priceless. Don't get me wrong, it's all business and solemnity when it should be, but I wish I could recreate the sound of our hall ringing with chortles, guffaws, and giggles we enjoy a few times per meeting.

I've been on the receiving end of a "just a few last comments" night before too. A few months back, we were all caught up in a question and answer part, and everyone had something to share. Just as the conductor called on me, saying "Sister Allen" and pointing my direction, the next brother up stood up in the front row, and made it obvious that the meeting was moving on...heh

This Sunday, after meeting, Matt and I went out for a long bike ride to Ikea afterward because it's the only grocery store within 30 minutes from our house that's open on a Sunday, and because Ikea Food hot dogs are the closest we can find to American dogs.

Still out of order in my story telling: Saturday Matt and I went to Amsterdam Central Station to renew our monthly bus passes, and to finally pick ourselves up a "40% korting" train discount card. We just don't take the train often enough to have made it a priority before. But, Matt has signed up to run a 12K race in a coastal town called Zandfoort at the end of the month, and with one of us having the discount card we can get 40% off of up to 4 tickets. It worked out in our favor to get it this week because it used to be that you could only get a discount card for a year at a time, so it was around $55 euros. This month, we were able to get a discount card for 3 months, at only $15 euros, which is perfect for our time line. We are expecting a visitor in April (yeah Lanette for making it happen!!!!) and I have a sneaking suspicion we'll finally be taking the train out of the country. Will in be Germany? Paris, France? Luxembourg or Belgium? only time will tell...

After we took care of business, we took time to explore a little more of the city center. Just a little off the beaten tourist path, we found a place that felt more like the local's hangout. We like to pretend we're locals... We had dinner at place new to us called "Festina Lente", an Italian themed small plates dive. It felt a like a piece of Seattle, a chunk of Berkeley, and a slice of my grandparents basement room in their first house in Oregon smushed into a cozy, feline friendly, herb scented living room cum dinning room. With bookshelves. While waiting for our table to be cleared, Matt and I made friends with the guard cat, who the waiter joked about being named "American" because he's thick and lazy. Somehow, I don't think either one of us felt insulted... He actually climbed up on our extra chair (the cat, not the waiter) and fell asleep in our company for the rest of our tasty tasty meal. I admit, I pet him at length in a most unsanitary fashion. The restaurant also had a selection of games to play if you want. We asked about Risk, but when it showed up at the table, it was in Dutch, and Matt decided he was not up to the task of teaching me the rules while translating into English. So, we contented ourselves with lamb in red wine sauce, goat cheese and plum ravioli in basil, lemon scented poached salmon, and a few other yummy bites parading across our crooked corner table. When it was time to take our leave, Matt eased our snoozing feline friend over to the next table, chair and all, where a couple of women sat, trying not to be jealous of our being chosen over them for kitten affection. We walked through a light rain back to tram 5 and home sweet home.

Bennekom Assembly

2009-03-09T20:22:00.040+01:00

Trying to catch you all up to speed:

February 7, and 8 we attended our circuit assembly in a town called Bennekom, about an hour away from Amsterdam. The day before the assembly, February 6th, I had the pleasure of attending the pioneer meeting for the English circuit.

Because of the distance, and the pioneer meeting, I went a day ahead of Matt, on Friday (since he didn't need to be there until Saturday) and caught a ride with a couple from our hall, the van der Heuvles. He had a part on the pioneer meeting program and interviewed Makafui and me about our experiences pioneering for a few minutes. I have to say I was a bit shocked to be part of the program so soon after moving here, but I guess I still think I'm new here, but it had really been 4 months already at that point. The brother's here put so much energy into their parts, it was a really enjoyable day. We came a little early to the assembly hall to help with the cleaning. There was a "how to" instructional cleaning demo that sung the praises of all things microfiber. It was really well organized, even though everyone joked about feeling like we were watching an info-mercial. They didn't use any chemicals, and every one was issued one micro-fiber cloth for glass, one for other surfaces, and one for toilets. Then the all important microfiber mop for the floors, of course. I was pleasantly surprised that we had lunch served to us. After years of trying to eat sensibly, I've acquired the habit of packing my own lunches if I know I'll be out most of the day, especially in service. It doesn't work out quite the same here, but I had packed enough snack stuff to hold me. However...

Not only did they have tea and coffee complimented by Matt's favorite Dutch dessert, the stropwaffle cookie, but a full hot lunch as well. I caved and left my snacks in my bag, drawn in by the delicious smell of another singularly Dutch item, the kroket sandwich. Have I described "bitterballen" to ya'll yet? It's something like condensed cream of mushroom soup with chunks of sausage rolled into balls, dipped in batter and deep fried. These sandwiches are made of similar stuff, but in the shape of a sausage instead of a ball. To be enjoyed steaming hot, with mustard. Yeah, fell off the healthy choices wagon that day :)

Since the town is such a commute for car-less people like ourselves, we asked our friends here, and they helped us select a hotel within walking distance. I stayed over night, and met Matt at the Hall in the morning. A kind and quiet brother offered us a ride the previous week, so Matt hitched in with him and another brother. Here's what I mean by "quiet" brother. Matt rode with him Saturday morning, and asked him if he wanted to sit nearby us. He says, no thanks anyways, he already had a seat elsewhere. Later that day, during the baptism talk, I take a look at who the baptismal candidates are, and I spot what looks a lot like him...so I ask Matt, "hey, is Chris getting baptized today??" and he says, "I don't think so, he didn't mention it". But sure enough, he was there getting baptized, and with quiet humility, saying nothing about it. We laughed and joked with him after the program telling him that he was being sly. He said, "I'm not sly, I just don't say much". True enough. He also gave us a ride home on Sunday. There is a train that stops nearby, but it's so much nicer to ride with your spiritual family.

We were pleasantly surprised to find that the coffee and tea service (though, sans stropwaffles and sammies) was still being served for the Assembly program. I thought it was just for the workers who showed up a day early to clean the hall. Turns out that before the program, and lunch, and for a while after the day's program ends they still serve tea and coffee at all Dutch assemblies. This is something most Jehovah's Witnesses who have been around for a few years remember fondly from the old days. Although we can agree that it's much better for all of us to bring our own digs and retain the ability to listen to the program without having to worry about your shift serving or preparing food for the masses, we all miss some food item that you just can't get anywhere else. Cheese danishes for me. Matt says hoagies. The Dutch just couldn't give up the civility of tea and coffee service. So, they were granted a stay :)

On Saturday evening, the Kupyeres picked us up at our hotel, "The Reehorst" (their recommendation) and took us to meet some other friends for dinner in the neighboring town of Ede (pronounced Aida). We were hoping for Italian, but the place was packed out, so we went for Greek instead. The other couple who met up with us was really great too. The brother helped me on Friday figuring out what to do with my microphone. The sister, his wife, is from the States, so we had a grand old time helping her husband to understand some of her habits that confuse him by proving that they are "American" things. ie: eating off of each other's plates at random, being irritated by slow restaurant service, etc. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't get a picture of us at dinner. Usually a server can be interrupted to take a quick snapshot...these ones couldn't be found to be interrupted :) We still had a really nice night of good food and companionship with them regardless.

It was really interesting looking at things from the perspective of being in a foreign language field. It still doesn't really feel like we're in a foreign language, because it's our mother tongue. And 9 times out of 10, even the native Dutch people speak great English, so it's not so apparent to us that we're living in a foreign language community. But being at the assembly gave us new insights into what it really means to be coming here from another country, looking for work, or to be near family, or a thousand other things that brings people here from all over in a more permanent way than ourselves. The District and Circuit Overseers are both native Nederlanders, and while the C.O. gave his discourses in English, the District Overseer had his talks translated from Dutch. Most of the time it was seamless, but once in a while the speaker would make a joke in Dutch that just doesn't translate, or the translator for some reason wouldn't know what to say, so we just looked at each other, puzzled, as they went on. As we said they all had a lot of energy, and good humor. If I were to give examples, this post would take me as long to write as the Italy blog did...no one wants that...heh...

After two days (3 for me) of meeting new friends from all over the planet who have the English language and a spiritual brotherhood in common, we felt energized and overwhelmed at the same time. We made friends who I very much hope to see again, but don't have any idea of when...There's so very much work to do in the service and congregations here, and here we are, knowing we'll leave them all too soon to be much real help. I did take some pictures of some of our Ghanaian sisters wearing their traditional clothing, but I still need to ask them if I can post their pictures. So, you'll have to be patient and wait to see them.

Then, a few weeks after that (February 24-March 1st), we had our Circuit Overseer visit to our congregation. We actually went back to the schedule I grew up with: Tuesday night TMS, Thursday night bookstudy, except we had our Sunday meeting on Saturday actually. And again, we had a really encouraging motivating pioneer meeting. I didn't realize before that how many auxiliary pioneers we have. We really do have a lot of service support here, and for that I am very very thankful.

So we had a busy handful of weeks spiritually, physically, and emotionally. As much as I hated to leave our friends in California behind for 6 months (now 9 months), I now dread to leave this new found family behind to move back "home". Oh, Matt got to experience accompanying the brother here that does port witnessing this weekend, which is where they get permission to board vessels in the Port of Amsterdam to talk with the workers. Leanna and I had the opportunity to do that while she was here, and it was a truly unique, and rewarding adventure. One more of the things that we will probably only get to try our own hands at while living here in Amsterdam.

Until next time...

Fond Farewells...

2009-03-08T21:42:00.002+01:00

And so, after a very eventful packed out 3 weeks, we spent Leanna's last night with us at the Pender's house eating Costa Rican grub, singing karaoke and playing Apples to Apples. I couldn't believe it when that was the game that Karen pulled out of her bag. Our last few nights in the Creek back in Cali we played that same game. Some things really are universal, aren't they? We got to met a brother and a sister from the English hall in Rotterdam, and as Leanna will attest, we met a brother who is the male version of LaTanya. Brother's got the moves, and pipes to bring down the house! Actually, we asked if the neighbors ever complained about the noise they make when singing Karaoke because it's an apartment that shares walls, but apparently the talent they bring in keeps them happy :) The other entertainment of the evening was provided by Monica's cat Mina, an adorable and very friendly British Shorthair mix kitten who likes to smell feet, and chase plushy mice around the room.

Leanna's flight left in the morning, so we didn't have much time the next day to do anything but head to the airport. Leanna's "strippencard" was just about maxed out, and loaded down with gifts and sweaters, I think she was ready to get back home. Adventure after adventure can't take the place of solid routine when it comes down to it.

I had hoped to finally be able to visit the small Rembrandt Museum housed at Schiphol, but instead I had to settle for a visit to the somewhat international airport grocery store that we lived off of when we were first in town ourselves. Turns out that you have to be on the other side of the security gate to get to the museum. So, maybe Leanna got to see it! After waving goodbye to Leanna, watching as she made her way through passport security (with a passport now boasting gobs of Amsterdam stamps, no Italy stamp even though we asked for one, and a couple of Zurich stamps), I turned back to the bus stop and back to my own routine.

Matt and I still call the guest room Leanna's bedroom...

Florence! Finally! formattings messed up though...

2009-03-07T23:56:00.012+01:00

There are more pictures of Florence between Leanna and I than I can handle...

I've been picking and choosing through hundreds of beautiful pictures trying to pull out a handful that will highlight our whirlwind Italy trip. I tried to put the pics in order with the story, but I kept remembering more and having to add things in at random intervals, so you'll just have to do your best to figure out which pictures go to which part of the tale...

It began a mere 22 hours after we landed back in Amsterdam from London. Only for you Leanna :)

In order to save a few hundred dollars between us, and to get the hotel we wanted, we opted for a layover en route to Florence...After a long long night spent in the Zurich airport trying to sleep off our 10 hour lay over, we got to at least see the Swiss alps.

We could see blue sky out the airplane window, and when we arrived in Florence, we're happy to find that unlike Amsterdam's blue sky, the blue sky here meant the air was a little warmer too. Our main reason for making the trip (aside from the pure fun of going to Italy for a few days because we could) was Leanna's familial connections. Her great-great-grandad was born there in the late 1800's. The family name Marraccini didn't pop into sight as often as the other Italian family name, Lippi. It graced a few streets we passed on the way from the tiny airport to the city center. That might be in part due to the renowned Italian Renaissance painter Filippo Lippi, who lived in and around Florence in the early to late 1400's and thrived there under the patronage of the Medici family, virtual royalty of the golden age of Florence, although most people seem to be more familiar with one of his famous pupils, Sandro Botticelli. If that name still doesn't ring any bells, think "the Birth of Venus", or "Primavera".

We walked from the train station to our hotel, a lovely family run place called Hotel Ariele. It was a bit out of the way if you want to be right in the center of things in Florence, but we thoroughly enjoyed the walk from there to town along the Arno River. If we had been in a hotel closer to the main tourist attractions of Florence, I don't think we would have seen half of the things that I enjoyed the most about our three days there. The room was gigantic, with huge white curtained windows stretching up almost all the way to the vaulted ceiling. After such a restless night in the Zurich airport, we both appreciated how completely black the wooden shutters and heavy exterior curtains made the room. Nothing like a nap at noon :). I took a picture of the print hanging above one of the beds and realized in hindsight that it looked almost exactly like this photo of the bridges over the Arno I took on our first day. I actually had to double check that I took it because it's so stinking picturesque. It doesn't look real to me still. I can only be sure it's mine because I have a tell tale smudge on my camera lens that shows up looking like a near vertical cloud in the upper right quadrant of every picture I take. The only thing that took getting used to in our room was our shower. The shower head was hand held instead of being attached to the wall above your head. It takes talent to not spray down the entire bathroom while you shower that way. Oh, and there was a much avoided bidet...

The walk along the Arno, if we meandered instead of walking like I traditionally do (like I'm on a mission from God, heh), took us about 20 minutes to get into the section of town with all the famous museums and famous piazzas and cathedrals. The locals seemed to treasure it as much as us tourists, and often sat sunning themselves on the various view spots that jut over the water. My personal favorite part of the walk had to be the bridges. We passed at least 2 bridges, sometimes 3, before banking left to enter the narrow high walled streets that criss-cross and tangle their way through piazza after piazza. My favorite bridge has to be one I didn't even know about until we cited it along the water, the Ponte Vecchio, built in 1345. Actually, rebuilt in 1345. It seems that a bridge has been in that location at least since Roman times, and the design that stands there now is attributed to Taddeo Gaddi to replace one built in the 1100’s that had washed out. Shops still line both sides off the bridge like little brightly colored jewels. Fitting, I suppose, since it has been almost the sole dominion of gold merchants since the late 1500's.

We wandered in circles around the Duomo, with it's towering Campanile looming 276 feet above the square, just a tad shorter than the cathedral dome. Although the interior is as much of a masterpiece as the exterior, that didn't rank very high on our to do list for the 2 and a half days we had to tour. We took a few self portraits in front of tourist favorites, ever wary of seemingly thoughtful locals trying to sell us knick knacks and offering to take our picture for us... goodbye camera.... Perhaps we were over cautious, but after hearing warning after warning about pick pockets and bag snatchers, we went with better safe than sorry. In fact, the winter was a great time to visit, because it's off tourist high season, and therefore much easier to walk around minus the press of crowds where thieves have easy pickings. We weren't bothered at all. I think the only “scam” we came across was me buying a 5 Euro print from a street vendor who had his product laid out on the side walk. His asking price of 20 euros shrank quickly as we slowly turned to walk away. I thought I was doing great, and getting close to the base price he could sell for by accepting 5 euros as the price. You know, you pay whatever it’s worth to you. But he went even lower when Leanna tried to walk away without buying anything. Her print (same size as mine) was offered at a mere 3 euros.... the guy seemed not to hear me when I told him he owed me 2 euro back ;)

Our first order of business after arrival Wednesday afternoon (post nap) was to get to the San Lorenzo Basilica, where Leanna had hopes of finding her great grandfather's name in the archives. On the way, we slowed down to browse the stalls of the famous San Lorenzo market. Although neither one of us was expecting to buy anything, we both walked away with ties and scarves of beautiful Italian design to both keep and give as gifts. piazzas and cathedrals. The locals seemed to treasure it as much as us tourists, and often sat sunning themselves on the various view spots that jut over the water. My personal favorite part of the walk had to be the bridges. We passed at least 2 bridges, sometimes 3, before banking left to enter the narrow high walled streets that criss-cross and tangle their way through piazza after piazza. My favorite bridge has to be one I didn't even know about until we cited it along the water, the Ponte Vecchio, built in 1345. Actually, rebuilt in 1345. It seems that a bridge has been in that location at least since Roman times, and the design that stands there now is attributed to Taddeo Gaddi to replace one built in the 1100’s that had washed out. Shops still line both sides off the bridge like little brightly colored jewels. Fitting, I suppose, since it has been almost the sole dominion of gold merchants since the late 1500's. I love this picture with Leanna being primped by one of the merchants. He got our business basically by leaving us alone while we looked at his wares. The other stall workers cat called and harangued us if we even turned our heads their direction.

Eventually, we got to the Basilica. Since it was so late, we just took a look around the cloister green (with a lovely orange tree in the center) and decided to come back the next day, fresh and relaxed. On the walk through town, we window shopped, and people watched, and got crimps in our necks from gazing up at the incessant grandeur of Italy. Some where along the way I surrendered to impulse, and went from window shopper to customer. Ever since high school I have wanted shoes from Italy. A girl a few grades ahead of me wore a pair of shoes from travels in Italy practically everyday, and the sees was planted. The shoes in this shop didn’t grab me, but a long purple lined brown shirt that hangs almost to my knees did…and the fact that it was on sale.

As the sun descended, the afternoon turned to evening, and we wandered. As we walked through the Piazza della Republica nightlife was just winding up with families and friends out enjoying the beautiful evening. Musicians playing classical guitar, selling their work on the sidewalk, a carousel spinning with laughter, a balloon hawker looming over squirming children, and hundreds of people each with their own important place to be waltzing past each other in a seamless flow. Amazingly, most of them walking nearby noticed me hunched protectively over my short tripod on the ground, and walked well out of the way, or just paused until the long exposure closed, and I stood up.

We walked back towards the hotel through different streets yet, and had our first slices of true Italian pizza for dinner (mine had anchovies) followed up by gelato that made me dance it was so good. I think we overwhelmed the old guy behind the counter a little bit with our juvenile excitement. Leanna had pistachio, while I dug into Nutella. We found our way to the Piazza della Signora, but it was too dark to take good pictures so we came back the next day the same way. But the night blue sky did give us some great pictures of the Arno and it's beautiful and plentiful bridges.

Thursday morning, after a quiet hotel breakfast, we made our way back to Piazza della Signora, via the bustling Arno, of course. The sunny sky made for much better photography, as we walked along the corridor to the piazza we could now see the details on the full size statue portraits of men such as Galileo, DaVinci, Macchiavelli, Amerigo Vespucci, and Michelangelo and more standing like guards as they lined the way. The original David stood here too, and it’s still home to Ammanate's bigger than life Neptune and friends. Too bad for us the David replacement replica was under cover for restoration. Good thing we had scheduled afternoon time for the real deal :) My favorite part of the morning had to be meeting the artist in this picture who tried with routine bitterness to get me not to take a picture of her pictures. She didn't expect me to want to buy anything from her. On the contrary, I couldn't choose out of her beautiful water colors highlighted with ink. I ended up with two lovely pieces, one of the skyline of Florence, and one of a twisted alleyway staggered with arches and walkways stretching across from one side to the other. She lovingly wrapped them for transport and then happily took pictures with us.

We returned to San Lorenzo Basilica and found a sweet and helpful lady named Teresa. Being hampered by our total lack of Italian, and her limited English, we switched to Spanish, and gathered that we should talk with the Monsignor of San Lorenzo. At 94 years old (although we were assured in good health), he was napping when we came. So, we were instructed to return after 4 pm, the period post naptime, and pre dinnertime. In the meantime, we toured the Biblioteca Mediceo-Laurenzia, upstairs from where we met Teresa. She was actually working, (door duty) at the crypt under the Basilica, which I did want to see, but we never got back to. We also forwent the interior of the Basilica, designed by Michelangelo, in favor of other works of his (yeah, David again).

The library was beautiful, although most of the books are put out of harms way, the windows, tile floors, and bench/shelves are still in great condition and show the titles and order of the library as set and designed by Michelangelo in 1524. That led us into a museum displaying the life's work of a philosopher monk whose name completely left my memory since I wasn't allowed

to take pictures... He had a collection of hundreds of books hand copied by himself, and his devotees meticulously written out on vellum in black and red lettering, decorated with vivid blues, reds and greens, highlighted with gold leaf. He had 25 Bibles attributed to his collection, but none of them were on display. I think the copies of medicinal texts were particularly beautiful. There's something mesmerizing about trying to read someone's 600 year old handwriting, expressing the thoughts and cares of the greats, so carefully penned between hair follicles and crinkles and whirls of

whatever animal skin they stretched into vellum for the pages. There were works from Seneca, Plato, and even Ovid among the monk’s own treaties on ethics and morals. The collection would have been priceless in an age where one volume of pages would have cost the average man a years wages in one go. Now, I suppose it's still priceless.

Next up, we made out way to the Galleria Della Academia, aka: home of Michelangelo’s original David. We passed through graffiti strewn alleys and art students working on their own masterpieces. We even passed a bakery named "Sabrina", but they were slammed, and we were on a mission. We sat, stood, and stared at length, captivated by Michelangelo’ crowning achievement. Honestly I don’t have much memory of the other works of genius we looked at on the way to the David’s room. I kept having to pinch myself mentally, and remind myself that I really was here in Italy looking with my own eyes on the very real chunk of marble carved into David that I’ve been looking at in pictures most of my life. “The prisoners” made an impression, but not much else. We were surprised by how many people, one after the other, got chastised by the security attendants for ignoring the multiple posted signs forbidding photo taking. Some tried to be subtle, some walked right up and stuck their best Davidic pose. Frankly I was just as surprised that I didn’t try to take one…

Somewhere on the walk back to San Lorenzo, we stopped into a shop just to ask them if they'd seen an article in the Awake! magazine in the last few months that featured their work (Masterpieces “Painted” With Stones, or Capolavori “dipinti” con pietre). They make and sell stone paintings. According to the woman who welcomed us into the shop, there are only 3 people left in all of Italy who practice this dying craft. She was amazed to hear that we had read of them in an article written by a Florentine author in the Awake! magazine. I knew from that article that I wouldn't in good conscience be able to give any pretense of being a potential customer. And we were proven correct. The smallest piece she had to offer us (about a thumb nail size floral pendant) was still 100 euros. If anyone has an extra, I'm still searching for a December 2008 Awake to send them :) I have the text from online, but I really want to show them the pictures.

We came back to talk to San Lorenzo's Monsignor Priori, we were saved the interview by another woman was there to help. She and Teresa asked yet another woman who seemed to be in charge, what to do, and she went into ask the Monsignor his advice. We were then directed us to a different archive because all of the records before 1900 were stored at the San Giovanni Basilica. So, they gave us addresses and directions, and even emails to follow up on. We could have pushed on and tried for that evening, but as the afternoon turned to dark, we decided to come back in the daylight.

Here’s an odd fact about Italy: it’s illegal for anyone to sell postage stamps unless they are licensed tobacco seller. So, the street vendors we bought our postcards from couldn’t help us mail our missives. We killed the last of the daylight by trying to hunt down a tobacco shop. We stopped along the way at the Landucci café for a few sweets (a fruit and cream confection called a mignon, and another pine nut topped cream cup called a varie) and a café americano. We people watched, and sat looking at the narrow street until the light turned from yellow to gray. Our salt and pepper pony-tailed waiter talked, and we talked back, and I don’t think either one of us really had a clue what was transpiring. I think the only actual communication was that the bill got paid, and we all smiled for the pictures.

Since we were in the right neighborhood, we checked the address for the San Giovanni archives that we planned to come to in the morning. It wasn’t hard to find, and as we walked, the inviting lights and store front of an English bookstore called to us. Actually, it was called the “Anglo-American Paperback Exchange”. It always gives me goose-bumps to see that pairing still in use…Even though we already had more books than we needed, and hard to carry, I found myself buying a piece of historical fiction based on the life of Leonardo DaVinci’s mother.

Full dark found us heading in the general direction of home, and sussing out other hotels until we found one with internet access (for a price of course) so I could email Matt to let him know what we were up to. We realized the day we left our hotel that they did indeed have internet access, but it was disguised in a closet reminiscent of a confessional. The hotel we got online at had one of the coolest bathrooms I have ever seen. It had pedals under the sink for the water instead of handles over the sink; one for hot, and one for cold water. It was done in an underwater theme, which could have gone so very very wrong, but they pulled off with elegance. Even with seashells glued to the walls...

We dithered and dallied and couldn’t decide what to do for dinner, our wallets and our appetites battling for supremacy.We restaurant shopped, lamented the euro to dollar ratio, and almost decided on pizza again, a most agreeable second fiddle. As a last resort, we remembered a restaurant on the corner by our hotel, but by the time we arrived it had closed. By that time, we were really and truly hungry, and the snacks left over from the plane ride wouldn’t suffice. We took a last hopeful look around, and landed on a glimmering gem called Trattoria Baldini just across the main thoroughfare from home. The menu looked varied and reasonable (although we veered sharply away from the ox tail and cow brains), and an adorable older Italian gentleman ushered us in with an affable smile and guarantee that we’d be happy with his restaurant. Instead of sitting us amidst the many families chattering in Italian over steaming plates, he sat us at a table close to the kitchen window, and close to his table. We shared the room with 2 other older gents, one of whom obviously makes a regular appearance, same seat every night kid of thing, and another who surprised us by knowing both of our streets in Walnut Creek well, having spent time there frequently on business. We started with a marinated vegetable appetizer, and a single glass of Chianti, which arrived in the form of a wine glass and a giant wicker wrapped bottle that the waiter left open on our table as a hospitable temptation. We mused over our trip, our lives, made the acquaintance of the chef, the staff, and the regulars over piping hot mushroom risotto and olive oil drenched pasta carbonara. We left for our beds with a warm glow of contentment.

Our last day in Florence came all too soon, and we still tried to pack as much in as we could. Our flight didn’t depart until late afternoon, and although we didn’t relish the idea of packing our luggage around the city with us, our hotel didn’t provide much better options. Basically, when we asked if we could stow our luggage with themfor the day, the desk clerk in nicely accented English pointed towards the table in the hallway and told us they don’t have room for storing baggage, but we’re more than welcome to leave our things under the table. I might have done so had I not walked into the hotel repeatedly over the last 2 days and seen people’s backpacks and luggage sitting there like an invitation with no one at the front desk, and the door temptingly wide open to the bustling street. So, in stead, we dragged our carry-on’s behind us over uneven paving stones down the Arno and back into the heart of Firenze.

We got a laugh on the way overhearing some locals as we walked past. I had my sunglasses on, and carrying all of my things, had generated some heat walking and walking to our destination. I took off my jacket, and bared my arms to the sum gladly. As we walked I heard Leanna laugh behind me on the narrow sidewalk. I asked her what got her laughing. She had heard two ladies as I walked past say disdainfully “LA” followed by a baffled huff indicating the lunacy of walking in short sleeves and sunglasses like it’s mid summer not mid winter. Can I help that the sun was out? I had to hand it to them though, out of the all far-flung world, they did nail it in guessing we came from California.

The last item on our must do list was the Galleria degli Uffizi. Museum of Museum, and art gallery

of art galleries…. The Medici’s really knew what’s what when it came to collecting. I cannot do it justice here. I can’t begin to describe the inundation of culture and history we waded through that Friday. I bought a book about the Medici’s because I just can’t keep all of them straight. Founding father Cosomo Medici began the Uffizi’s collection in 1560, more as a hub of governing the city (“Uffizi” meaning “Offices”) than a gallery, but the family collections were opened to the public in the mid 1700’s. It’s fame has only grown. One of the ways Cosimo kept a finger on the pulse of world government was by requisitioning portraits of heads of state and country the world round. I was quite surprised to see a portrait of First Emperor Qin of China hanging in one of the long hallways. Besides his contemporaries, Cosomo sought to learn from famous rulers of the past also.

Our real goal however was to find the room showcasing Fillipo Lippi, great ancestor to Leanna. After learning of his influence on Sandro Botticeli, the similarities became obvious. Both used the same kind of floral components, and angelic glowing faces. We joked that after the Uffizi tour, we had now seen work from all 4 teenage mutant ninja turtles: Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael. I know, that’s kind of a cheeky way of looking at things…but a good memory tool nonetheless. I was entertained by finding a small collection of Dutch artists there, and it took us back to our visit to the Rijksmuseum here in Amsterdam.

One more long night spent in Zurich airport, and we made our way back to Amsterdam. Italian adventures safely stowed in the overhead storage (lame reference to memory…heh).

Fini

Oh yeah, and I did find a pair of black leather boots to buy too…on sale of course.

Circuit Assembly

2009-02-05T21:44:00.004+01:00

Tomorrow morning, I'll hitch a ride to Bennekom (about 45 minutes by car from our house) and the pioneer meeting for the circuit. Saturday and Sunday we have our circuit assembly there also. We got ourselves a hotel (the Reehorst) so we don't have to bus it every day. Matt is catching a ride in on Saturday morning with a brother in our hall from Australia who was kind enough to offer.

I took so very many pictures in Italy that I haven't been able to cull the lot and post about our trip. I suppose it doesn't help that I also have Leanna's pictures to go through. I want to make sure ya'll get a decent taste of Firenze :). But it will have to wait until at least Monday. Then I'm sure I'll have to follow that up with pictures from the assembly, especially Sunday, which we've been told is the day that everyone will dress in their native clothing. I expect it will be very colorful. I'm not quite sure yet what my native clothing is supposed to be. Worn out jeans and a cheesy t-shirt won't cut it...

London: Leanna's Travel in Pictures...finally

2009-02-01T13:58:00.067+01:00

So, I am lame for not having posted pictures (sorry Micaela...). You'll have to bear with my quick and barely edited version of events. I'm sure I've left things out, so Leanna, you'll have to post some commentary. I still have to upload to flickr, but for now, here are some highlights:

After a short tube journey from Heathrow, we checked into the K&K Hotel King George a few streets over from the Earl's Court tube entrance. After checking in, we walked from Templeton Place thorough the Kensington area to a fantastic Indian restaurant called "Zaika". I've never had Indian food like this...they actually serve tasting menus (6 course) with wine pairings. I think having a French waiter made it just that much fancier also. Truly memorable. Our waiter is trying to move to California of all places, so we may find ourselves being used as a reference on some immigration papers somewhere down the line...

We got used to being jostled and squished on the tube. You have to feel sorry for the tall guys who don't find a seat. The edges of the underground train really do curve over, forming a tube, so we saw more than one guy stick his head out the doors at a stop when the doors open, not to get off, but just to uncramp and get a breath, only to have to hunch back over and stoop when the doors are closing. I had to get a cheesy tourist shirt that says Mind the Gap (akin to an I heart NY). At every stop, a wise recorded British voice say "This is .... station. Please mind the gap".
Saturday morning, we found our way to the British Museum for our two scheduled "Bible Tours". We had to filter through all of the other Witnesses there for the same purpose to find who to check in with. An entire congregation came for a group tour, and we kept getting their guides confused with the guides for the individual tours. At 10 am we started with "The Stones are Crying Out", where we examined Assyrian artifacts seeing how they uphold Biblical accounts of the same people, as well as the origins of things like the cross and Easter (as seen on the picture of this stela from the temple of Nabu from around 814 BC). We also saw a few wall plaques depicting the conquering of the city of Lachish by the Assyrians, and the outcome of their fall. It was interesting to think that these would have been the same Assyrian army who, when they came up against the Jerusalem shortly after conquering Lachish, had no such luck. Rather, the Bible account shows the demise of their 185,000 strong army in one night, falling to the strength of a single angel. After a simple lunch at the Museum cafe, where we enjoyed meeting a few of our spiritual family, and getting directions to the London Bethel branch for Monday, we moved on to our second tour, entitled "Keep Your Eyes on the Prize". This one detailed elements of athletic and soldierly life during the era of the Greek scriptures. It's amazing to see artifacts up close and personal that I've only seen in pictures for years. Like the statue of a Greek boxer with cauliflower ear. Things like the Rosetta Stone (which Matt and I had seen on our first trip here for a few days after Ireland on our honeymoon and it was only behind a velvet rope instead of the thick plastic encasing it now), the cylinder of Nabonidus, and a near complete suit if Grecian armor make history come alive. Especially when paired with bible chronology and metaphor. Suddenly the distant grows near, the ancient becomes everyday, the cloudy understanding comes clear. After our tour we swapped cards and and digits with our new found friends, and moved out into London. We got warmed up at a pub around the corner from the museum (a good place to write post cards, as always) before continuing to wander London. Matt had found a place (called Porter's) for "traditional" British food. I know, it sounds like an oxymoron, but they had really really good food. They also publish a cookbook which I had to talk myself out of getting. On the way back to the tube from there, we passed a street performer with his work laid out on the sidewalk. He stood off to the side reciting a new piece to himself. We perused his titles waiting for him to finish. When he noticed us, he asked us to pick a title and he recited it from memory for us. He was quite good, and we spoke at length with him about the neighborhood he lives and practices in there, his poor relations with the local police and court (they don't take kindly to buskers), and the life of Keats (actually now I can't remember if it was Keats or Byron, or even Shelley, such is my poor memory of English romantic poets) who seems to have never traveled farther than his small town on London. Joseph Marinus, we were glad to make your acquaintance. Matt donated towards paper and crayons, and we walked off with new poetry in hand, enriched by human interaction. Mine is called "Speech of the Boot", Leanna walked away with a "Golden Key".

Next day we hopped on the "original" double decker bus tour (the yellow line) of the premier London sites, starting in Trafalgar Square. After a suitably insulting interchange with the ticket man, we had tickets to the bus, a boat ride along the Thames (which we opted to skip since we'd be even farther from the things we'd want to see) and The day had a little bit of drizzle to it, but we took to the top level regardless. Leanna had some napkins to wipe the seats dry (drier at least) and with the sun peeking out, we whipped around from Trafalgar to Big Ben and Parliament, the London Eye and Covent Garden and Fleet Street, Buckingham Palace and Speaker's Corner. Both Sean Connery and Roger Moore apparently lived near here after acquiring fame and fortune. Rumor has it that Pierce Brosnan tried to get an address on the same street and got denied. We had wanted to tour Westminster Abbey, but it was closed for the day. While crossing London Bridge, the commenter told us about the area affected by the great fire of 1666. There is a memorial tower topped with a golden torch commemorating the even that changed the face of the city, now standing in the financial district. You can climb to the top (13 flights up if I recall correctly) for a great view, so we hopped off the bus, and almost immediately discovered our bus tickets gone missing. In our frantic search, and anxious wait for another yellow line tour bus, we didn't even get near the tower. Turns out that it was also closed for the day. The next bus to come along was being driven by one of the employees we'd had some banter with first thing in the morning, so he was very helpful and took us on to meet back up with the tour. The sun got even brighter as we continued on towards Tower Bridge, and we left the anxiety behind us.

The Tower of London is a place that Matt and I have been looking forward to visiting for decades. I remember reading the story of the "lost princess" from an encyclopedia as a young kid, and it's here that their small bones were unearthed from a crude burial under the White Tower's staircase after about 200 hundred years following their imprisonment and murder in the bloody tower. It's never safe to be heir to the throne.

We got in just in time to follow a Yeoman gaurd (aka: Beefeater) giving a guided tour of the grounds and telling tales. They still live full time on the premises, get locked in at 10pm, have their own doctor dedicated to the care of under 30 guards and their families. In fact, at the private chapel on the grounds, they still hold family weddings. They had one in October. He told us of the life and times of the Tower inhabitants of old and current, scandals and traditions. I finally got to see the Tower ravens in person. The superstition goes that if the ravens ever abandon the tour, London will fall. To prevent that happening, the ravens have their wings clipped, and are fed a rich diet designed (think steak) to keep them content to stay on.

The different towers we were able to tour are filled with centuries old medieval graffiti of the tower prisoners, including Lady Jane Grey. It houses many many sad stories mostly centering on religious feuds and political struggles. All things I'll be glad to say goodbye to. We also saw the separate hill where people of consequence were allowed to be beheaded, away from the mongrel crowds. There is now a bit of a modern sculpture of a fluffy pillow shaped chopping block where Anne Boleyn is supposed to have requested to have a swordsman and not an axeman do the deed in her behalf.

As with every tourist trap in existence, before exiting, you are funneled through a gift shop. So of course, we purchased the obligatory few items, including a cross stitch of the White Tower. We were happy to see our drill sergeant of a tour guide on one of the postcards.

We ran past the Crown Jewels, having just enough time to gape at part of the largest diamond in the world (so far) the unpolished weight of 530.20 carats, pieces of which are embedded in the Royal Scepter, known as the "Great Star of Africa", and the Kohinoor diamond ( a whopping 108 carats) gracing Queen Elizabeth's 1937 coronation crown. Jehovah made some pretty cool stuff for us to find...

We caught the tour bus out again and headed for our last destination of the day, the replica of Shakespeare's Globe theater. Yet another thing I've wanted to see for about as long as I can remember. This is actually the third "Globe theater" to stand in this location, including the original. About 10 years back, there was an Awake! article describing the current reconstruction, and I've been looking forward to seeing it especially since then. We had an early evening tour guided by a theater assistant who told us flat out that their last production of Romeo and Juliet was awful, but they do a great Twelfth Night. Unfortunately we couldn't stay for a performance, even though they manage two shows a day, and charge a meager $5 euros for standing room and for the "bad seats", and only $15-$35 (euros) for more prime realty. Next time... I've been in need of a decent size coffee mug (since our kitchen came stocked with coffee cups more suited to dolls) and found one there with a bleeding heart naming Capulet on one side, and Montague on the other. Matt got a Poor Yorick patch.

Monday, my poor hard working husband had to go in to the London office and being another work week. That left Leanna and I a free day, which we decided to use by finding our way to the London Bethel (which we wouldn't have attempted on our own, but since our lunch mates at the British Museum gave us such confident directions, we tried it) only a short tube ride away to the north of the city.

Again, we had perfect weather, so we walked about 10 minutes up a gentle hill from the Mill Hills East station past lines of Tudor style houses and green grassy fields to the IBSA house, and Watchtower house with sun warming or faces. A sweet sister (who I'd spoken with on the phone to make sure they'd be open for us to tour) greeted us with photos from a trip to Crockett and Napa. Just the waiting room put the Amsterdam Bible Museum to shame, they had such beautiful and old Bible manuscripts and printings. Made all the more meaningful for us by highlighting things like Jehovah's name in original texts. We got mixed up in another congregation tour, and were sad to have to extricate ourselves to go where we were assigned. The tour only took about an hour and a half, but it was one of the most refreshing and enjoyable parts of the whole busy 3 weeks of Leanna's visit. In part, it was just nice to be out of the bustle of the city for a change, but meeting new spiritual family is always something that puts a smile on your face and energy into your step.

The printing facility is impressive to the nth degree. We felt a little bad for the brothers on shift because while we were all snapping photos, they had a massive paper jam. So we all documented how to unclog the machines. The brothers were crawling on top of the machine, pulling off panels, and chucking magazines all over the floor in an effort to get production back on schedule.

Our tour guide (a brother whose family hales originally from Hong Kong but who has a disconcertingly very thick British accent) has been in residence there for 12 years, and did a great job of helping us to see not only the daily life of a London Bethelite, but also the overall effect of the work they do there. We saw magazines being printed off in dozens of languages, being folded, trimmed, and packed up for shipments seemingly all over the world. It gave us a laugh to see that they're stocked up on Kirkland coffee from Costco. I had no idea Costco has made it to the UK. I told the ladies in our group that I used to live in Kirkland. We talked about the problems of storing bulk items in typically small European houses. The brother that led our group works in the electrical department, and we all found it amusing that the item they spend the most time fixing isn't the dishwashers, or printers, it's the sister's hairdryers. Go figure. He showed us how the machine shop not only manufactures replacement parts for the presses when needed (to aide in keeping costs low) but even improves upon the designs. I like this picture where he's showing us how user friendly this huge paper cutter is. See that stack of paper on the desk? That's how thick a stack in can handle at once. So, your fingers would present no problem to the cutter. But, to maintain safety, once you've lined up your stack, you have to maintain pressure on two separate buttons on the right and left side of you, as well as pushing a floor peddle with your foot in order to make the machine operate. Through out our tour we kept passing our old friends from the Bristol (area) congregation, and we were sad we didn't get to spend more time with them all. Next time as well...

We reluctantly made our way back to London town and our evening flight back to Amsterdam. Matt worked off site at a customer (a poultry processing machines manufacturer...they have a machine to hatch eggs and raise the chicks...) so one of the guys from the office dropped him off at the airport and Leanna and I checked out of our hotel, and took the Piccadilly line on the tube for the last time. But we didn't really get any time to process everything we saw and experienced because once home in Amsterdam, we pretty much spent the day doing laundry, grocery shopping, and packing for the next phase: Florence Italy.

Florence Firenze

2009-01-29T19:21:00.002+01:00

We're in Italy!!!!!!!!!!!!

And this is a much easier keyboard to use. And we're having the most beautiful weather too! We're joking that I'm going to go back to Amsterdam with more of a tan from London and Italy than we did from Jamaica. Does that name list sound like I'm bragging? I hope not... It's just been a busy busy year...

We found the church where Leanna's great grand dad's records should have been this afternoon. When we asked what to do, some very helpful ladies who work at the crypt museum there heloed us by getting all of the information, and translating it into Italian for the monsignior priori (head honcho priest) who's 94. He let us know that for the years we are looking into, we have to go to the Curio de San Giovanni which is in another area, and we didn't get to it early enough this evening, so we'll try again in the morning. They told us that all the birtha nd baptism records prior to the 1900's (roughly) would have been at this other chruch. We were just amazed that we found anything and it was pleastant to find such helpful people too.

I only have two minutes left...

And we found one of those places that makes paintings using thin sheets of colorful stones...I canàt remember the name, but we told them we'd send them the Awake! article about that type of art work. There are only 5 artists lefct she said...gotta post

Bye!!

I'm (we're) in Zurich!

2009-01-27T22:05:00.002+01:00

and this keyboard is killing me!

Iäm used to the keyboards in Amsterdam, and even London. This is a whole new set of weird.

For instance the I'm I just typed. Or that everytime I want a y I tzpe a Z! They've swapped spaces on this board.

We have a gianormous 10 hours to kill here. And I have to pay 2 euros for 8 minutes to talk to zou...You people! heh...

I have no way to upload pics again...sorry. We should fly out of Switzerland and arrive in Floernce Italz morning aeround 8:30am.

Maybe we'll find 2 more euros and talk to you again later...10 hours. 10.

Londinium

2009-01-25T22:40:00.004+01:00

Just a quick note that we're still alive and kicking here in London...

I forgot to bring anything that would allow me to upload photos away from home however, so you'll still have to be patient.

The sky was actually blue and bright when we landed. I'd already forgotten how nice seeing the sun in the sky can be. We had an amazing Indian dinner on Friday night when we got in, and enjoyed a long walk around the Kensington area on the way from our hotel there.

Saturday morning, sky still lovely and clear, we made our way to Russell Square and the British Museum for the first of two Bible tours for the day. We met a lot of nice brothers and sisters from all over...France, Australia, The UK, Missouri, Santa Rosa, California... Can't go far without coming back home. The tours were amazing. I'll never again forget the Lachishites. We had dinner at a place recommended to Matt by a co-worker in the London office called Porter's which specializes in traditional British foods. Again, stuffed, we all slept well, despite the rainstorm pitter pattering on the hotel windows.

Today, things started and ended damp and drizzling, but cleared up enough in the middle that we could enjoy playing tourist properly. We got ourselves on a double decker bus tour of the city, and ignoring damp seats, planted ourselves on the top deck for the best photo ops. We spent most of the time at the Tower of London, but also go to see Big Ben, the exterior of Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, and ended with a nice tour of the reproduction of Shakespeare's Globe Theatre.

Tomorrow, while Matt has to go back to the daily grind (this time in the London office) Leanna and I are going to try and follow the directions our dear brothers and sisters provided for us over lunch at the British Museum, and make our way to the Bethel Branch here. Maybe we'll even squeeze in a few more London landmarks before our evening flight back to Amsterdam.

Look for photos on Tuesday ;)

Transit

2009-01-22T22:50:00.003+01:00

Just a quick note to say that we had a few nice days in service this week, and instead of going out this morning, we packed our bags for London!

We spent the afternoon doing a little more touristing around Amsterdam. We ducked in out of the rain at the Waag castle cafe(and yes, Waage's, I think that's a variation of your family name) for a hot cappuccino, and some culture. Then we made our increasingly drenched way to the Bible Museum, managing to get in just before it closed. That was about as much time as we needed anyhow. Though they house some nice manuscripts, including the oldest printed bible in Holland (dating to 1477), and a few Egyptian artifacts including an ancient straw and mud brick from the banks of the Nile, the most memorable part for us seemed to be the original 16th century kitchen. The buildings the museum resides in are as much part of the tour as the artifacts. The founder spent a great deal of time working out tabernacle and temple models. But once you've seen the ones in New York Bethel, it's hard to be impressed by others. Ill probably still go back someday to take a less hurried tour and see what I may have overlooked.

We get to do participate in doing our ministry at the Harbor tomorrow morning (a first for me) along with one of our elders. Directly from there, he'll drop us at the Sloterdijk train station and send us on our way back to Schiphol to meet Matt and a hopper to London. I just ferreted out some old British pounds from our honeymoon, if you can believe that. I managed to keep them handy for the next time we'd need them.

When it's not past time for sleep, I'll add some pictures...promise.

First Day in the Ministry

2009-01-20T20:17:00.013+01:00

Hey there...this is Leanna. So things have finally slowed down a bit, just enough for me to make a post of my very own. People keep telling me that i must have brought the warm weather from California with me to the Netherlands. Its been in the mid to low 40s...I think I expected it to be a whole lot colder, but it really hasn't been all that bad. It has not rained all that much or been incredibly windy while we've been out and about...and let me tell you, we have been out. I'm loving the freedom of not having a cell phone, although Sabrina has had one on hand for Matt and the congregation. All in all, I'm loving my European expedition.

Today was my very first day out in the ministry in Amsterdam. We missed our bus this morning by like 8 minutes; fortunately that particular one comes quite frequently. After making a transfer to the metro we realized we were not really going to be all that late. We paused momentarily on our brisk walk to the meeting for field service to notice a woman with the Watchtower of Mary on the cover. Finally we arrived only to find that we would have to interrupt the meeting by buzzing for the door to open...we made it to the 10th floor, opened the door...they were all just sitting around a big coffee table sippin' tea.I love the European routine of tea or coffee that just seems to surround you everywhere. Sabrina and I had plans, or "an appointment" as they refer to it here, with Monica. Another sister had made plans to join our group, but she called the night before to let us know she would not be able to make it because of the flu. No problem, instead a lovely sister Rita became my partner for the morning.

Rita had a call she has been trying to set up a time to schedule an appointment to study so we thought we would give him a try. Success…we had a pleasant conversation and she made an appointment for Saturday. Next stop, the previously mentioned study. Unfortunately, she was not home…but that’s okay, Rita still had the territory for that apartment building. We spent the remaining of our morning going up and down several flights of stairs, mixing in and elevator every now and then. Our last door ended up being a Ghanaian woman…the majority of that conversation was in Twi, but Rita so graciously allowed me to read a scripture every now and then. Just as we were getting ready to head out, Rita received a phone call from Monica and Sabrina letting us know where to meet them. So ends my first ministry day here in Holland with many more to come this week

I know this has absolutely nothing to do with the ministry, but I just had to include it. Yesterday Bri and I went downtown to tour the Rijks Museum.I’ve seen pictures of some of these paintings, but to actually visualize them in the scale that is meant to be is just breathtaking. I would get so caught up in the details mentioned in my interactive pod guide, I would have to be reminded to take a step back and enjoy the painting in its entirety. It never ceases to amaze me that someone can use paint to capture this single moment or people’s feelings…and to top it off, some look as if they're a mere photograph. Even though I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I felt mentally, emotionally, and possibly even spiritually (so much of the art depicted how religion truly has made a muck of things and peoples lives) drained that Bri and I both were in the mood for a cup of coffee.

Well...that's all for now. We have early morning plans with a sister...we're meeting her at a metro station @8.

Leana's First Week in Europe

2009-01-18T23:05:00.028+01:00

Here we sit, Sunday evening, trying to go to sleep so that Matt can get up early for work.

Just had a late snack at a restaurant in Amstelveen called "Sticks" that does sate style finger foods mostly. Mooi Lekker. Beautiful tasty.

Since Leanna got in on Wednesday, we've been packing in almost everything we can each day. Wednesday afternoon, we walked a big portion of Amstelveen, mostly to show Leanna her first up close Dutch windmill, but also to walk off some of the 10 hour flight stiffness and fend off jet lag. I gave my first student talk on Wednesday with Claudine as my house holder, and at least managed not to trip or drop the microphone.

Thursday we had a wandered around Amsterdam and made our way to the Anne Frank House Museum. Quite interesting, and quite depressing. Talk about man's dominating man to his injury... We had toasties and coffees in a brown cafe while people watching out the small paned windows.

Friday, we spent a good deal of the morning tracking down airfare and hotel prices for a jaunt to Italy, from whence Leanna's family hails. Then we hit the local Amstelveen market, and got fixings for Chinese Chicken Salad to be served Saturday evening. That, and the preparation took most of the afternoon up. Matt took us out to dinner at a really nice place called "the Castle" in Amsterdam, where we had to wait about 45 minutes for a table. We used the time to wander Leidseplein a little and get a pint at the Waterhole, and introduce Leanna to "bitterballen" at our favorite Irish pub a few doors down. Dinner was a very intimate and relaxed setting where we sat in clusters around a rather 70's looking fireplace, and ate dinner off of our wicker platers on our laps. We had a little trouble getting home because for the first time in our stay here, we missed the last tram back to Amstelveen. Fortunately we figured out where to catch the last bus to the same station, and managed to get avoid a hefty taxi fee.

Saturday, we slept in late because we got in so late, made scrambled eggs, and waited for a couple from our hall to pick us up. We tried to invite them to dinner here on Sunday, and they told us that they were already going to ask us to go out on Saturday, so we upped it a day and went with them into the country a little to a town in Zaandam where they've preserved a handful of windmills and traditional houses in their traditional style. The brother (Robert) grew up there, and his wife, Naomi-Ruth says they enjoy playing tour guides :) It started out raining, and cleared up just in time for us to walk the park. One of the windmills was open for us to tour, and we got to see the insides of a working color mill, where they grind limestone to add pigments to for paints. Then we all got inside of a giant yellow wooden show, and took a tour of a clog museum. Best part of that was a demonstration of how clogs are made traditionally and using machinery. I bought the shoe they made for a euro and asked the man who did the demo to re-enact a part. They use the very green wood, and he demonstrated that fact by blowing very very hard into the toe of the clog. It made it rain. So I took a video...

When Naomi and Robert dropped us back home, Robert and Matt tromped down to the storage unit to investigate the bicycle. Robert managed to fix it in a matter of 15 minutes or so. But the light still needs fixing, and I still need a few good locks so as to ward off becoming victim to one of the 10,000 or so bicycle thefts a year here.

Sunday, after the meeting, the same couple, Naomi-Ruth, and Robert (who are actually a Dutch couple but part of the Twi group, not the English, but we meet together on Wednesdays) took us to the...dun dun dunnnn....Black Market.

Which is basically a bazaar in the style of Istanbul, Morocco, China town, etc. I'm still not sure why it's called the black market, but it was fun to say it that way. It happens close to the couples home in Uitgeest (out-haste), so we had a lovely sandwich spread for lunch, including Hagel Slag, then went to shop for everything imaginable. I finally found a bigger service bag that can hold my sammie and my books, umbrella, and spare bits, and some safety lights for my newly repaired bicycle. Leanna walked away with lots and lots of candy.

They took us back to their house for some Chinese take away, and a photo viewing which was a lot of fun. Robert kindly made me some mix CD's of Dutch music which I can't wait to spend some time with..We tried out various Dutch phrases, and enjoyed playing with Gyata, the cat. A huge fur ball full of attitude named Lion in Ghanaian. Then, when Robert had a football game to get to, Naomi was kind enough to drop us back home in Amstelveen.

I'm sure that there's much much more to say, but not much much more of my brain left awake to say it. Perhaps Leanna will grace ya'll with a post of her own in the morning.

We're watching Black Adder. It's past time to sleep.

Familiar

2009-01-14T09:29:00.002+01:00

I'm getting ready to go pick up Leanna at the airport, and by pick up I mean show up on the bus so I can show her which bus to take back to Amstelveen, and bring her a "strippen card" so it's cheaper to ride the bus.

Yesterday, at the bio market, I asked the man tallying my purchases if the tea I picked out has caffeine or not. I wanted it to, and thought that it was a black tea variety, but couldn't really tell. It was too much English for him, so he gestured for me to ask another guy there who was busy packing up for the day.

When I got his attention to ask, he says "wassup?" I thought to myself, that sounds familiar... Asked him my question, got my answer, and then he jokes that the guy who was helping me knows all the answers until he (wassup guy) walks away. I asked him where he was from, wanting to confirm my guess. He answers "the States". I must have had a "duh" look on my face, because he said "Sacramento" as I was saying "I'm from California". I said "I thought you sounded familiar." Then I told him I grew up in Placerville, and after talking about high schools, and favorite ski resorts, said "see you next week", since the market's every Tuesday.

Small world indeed. A familiar accent yesterday, and today a familiar friendly face :)

Ice Lake

2009-01-09T16:35:00.007+01:00

I forgot to mention some of the strange things I saw on the ice lake.

Man riding bicycle across the lake
Mom on skates pushing baby in stroller across the lake
Kid pushing chair across the lake while on skates
Ice hockey games (3)
Dogs, not on skates, but it was hard to tell

Also, I have finally put up my traditional wall of family and friends photos. With the help of Ikea stick on photo frames so that I don't have to punch any holes in the walls here. See if you can find yourself :) Don't worry if you can't, I have more pics up and around, not all of them made it into the faux frames. If you can't see yourself, and would like to, please send a picture to us. Or just tell me and I'll let you know if you're in one of the other less framed picture areas in the house , so that we can both feel better.

Even Spider Web's Are Pretty When Iced

2009-01-09T10:21:00.018+01:00

It is truly cold here.

Thursday morning, I finally had an appointment to get the radiator panels fixed. This time someone from the building was supposed to come, since it’s a building wide system. He was scheduled for 9:30, so I had a lazy morning. In fact, I was still in the bed (reading...) when the guy rang the phone buzzer at about 8:30. I answered, but I couldn't understand anything the man said. So, I said come on up, even though I didn't expect you until 9:30.

I then hear a clear "goodbye" and nothing else.

I thought maybe that meant he was on his way up, so I got dressed, vacuumed, made breakfast. About 30 minutes pass, and I’m thinking he’s not waiting at the elevator. So I call Ekta (landlady) to see if she knew what happened...no answer.

At 9:30 the guy does indeed show up, says stuff in Dutch, and I say stuff in English. I ask if he speaks any English, he says no, I say I speak no Dutch, and he makes like he's gonna leave because we can't get anywhere...so I hurry and gesture for him to come with me to the guest room, point at the radiator and say "no work". He opens his bag and starts in, and before he gets too far, I show him that the kitchen and the bathroom also "no work". He shakes his head in understanding, and gets to it.

10 minutes later, he asks (gestures) for me to sign a paper, which I do, he says more stuff in Dutch, I look dumbly back at him, and we say “dank u vel” (thank you) and “dag” (day). Still not knowing what happened, I put my hand to the 3 broken radiator panels...heat! Thus, in 10 minutes, two months of waiting and wondering is put to rest.

Rock on international language of head shaking, frowns, and smiles.

In the afternoon, I had to go to the Gemeente Amstelveen (Amstelveen Town Hall) to file one last piece of paper regarding our residency permits. It took me all of 4 minutes to get in and get out, however. My bus home failed to appear. I could have walked a few minutes around the corner and caught another bus, but I only noticed that after I saw that bus come and go too far away to catch up to. So, I waited an hour plus, pacing back and forth on frozen toes, every second hoping to see the 166 turn the bend in my direction. The KLM building on the corner has a huge clock and temperature gadge. It read -3 celcius. That's about 29 Fahrenheit. That my friends, is cold.

Just before I headed back to the bus stop from the city hall, I caught sight of the frozen over lake behind the building. So, I passed a little time staring in wonder at what seemed to be hundreds of ice skaters speckled out across the whole width of the lake. The sky blended into the tree line, which blended into the ice line, so everything had a glaze of white to it. Even the misty sunlight.

The trail took me near a small stream feeding into the lake, also iced over. But the ice here buckled and shifted before my eyes, creaking with movement. I don't know how people can tell when it's safe to skate...

Matt's boss was here this week, so they finally got to meet face to face. Things are getting interesting. More on that later...

Turning Japanese

2009-01-05T22:32:00.009+01:00

We had a wonderful dinner of sushi rolls and Japanese curry at the Ploeger's home on Sunday evening. Along with their other guests, Yukiko dressed us up like dolls and let us play in her beautiful and delicate collection of kimonos and fans. Rene (Yukiko's Dutch hubby) and Matt stayed off to there own until Yuikiko dug up a manly man's kimono for Matt to put on... He graciously played along so that I could take pictures. Last time he did that we were in Egypt and that guy didn't get his permission before gowning him like a sheik. This was much more enjoyable.

Today, I got to go in service with one of the sisters who dressed up with us, Karen. She's been away in Finland, but has returned. She had made a lovely cake for our desert last night, but it failed to make the journey, so we got to have a sliver of apple strawberry deliciousness on our lunch break at her apartment. Desserts always seem better the next day anyhow :)

We had a startling beginning to our service day though. After walking for a while towards a call, and having chatted with a few people along the path, we spoke to a friendly man from Nigeria. As we moved on, we heard a loud bone rattling crash behind us, and when we turned we found him crashed out on the icy pavement we narrowly missed falling on ourselves. It took a handful of people and a good deal of worry to get him back in a condition that we felt ok leaving him. About five minutes went by before he stirred at all, another 10 to get him to sit up, and another few before we could get him to speak his name. With a bloody lip and huge bump on his head, a few good Samaritans helped get him to a doctors office around the corner to be sure he had no concussion. The weather here is no joke!

Matt has a bundle of big wigs in the office for the week, so he's going to have an exciting week ahead. We're looking forward more and more to having State-side company here to visit in a few short days (Leanna). Hopefully she'll bring a little California sun with her!

Amsterdam Weekend

2009-01-03T20:26:00.010+01:00

So we played tourist this weekend.

After service in Heemskerk with Charlotte on Friday, I met up with Matt in the city for a little good ol' fashioned tourism. I've been looking for a nice piece of art work to take back to Cali, so we went to a few artsy shops and browsed. I didn't find what I really liked until after closing hours, so I'll just have to do it again :)

We went to an early dinner at a Surinamese restaurant recommended by one of Matt's co-workers, called Spang Manakdra. It's one of the best meals we've had since we got here. And not crazy over priced like most places are. Good thing we got in early (around 5pm) because shortly after we ordered then place went mad with people crammed into it's tiny space. Our server barely had room to get from the kitchen back to the tables to deliver food. And to add to the hullabaloo, it seems they do a brisk take out business.

The restaurant was in a neighborhood we haven't been to before, so we wandered the little streets of the Pijp District, and marveled at the kitschy little shops and bicycle rentals (like this one with the horse shaped bike) and decided we'd need to come back during opening hours.

Then we caught the tram back towards Amsterdam City Center, to catch our "lover's wine & cheese canal tour". very cheesy, but a nice time regardless. I'd like to do a canal tour during day light hours, because there was no way I could take a decent picture of the pretty things we passed in the dark. Like one section of canal bridges called "the Seven Bridges" where you have a perfect echo of 7 canal crossings one right behind the next all nicely lit up. We motored through a section with big fancy house boats and marveled at how much people can fit into a boat to make it a home. Most everyone had their window coverings thrown wide open and we looked on as people ate dinners, read books, danced, and drank as though for our entertainment. The tour guide mentioned that it is a Dutch tradition to live "in the open" like that because the church long taught that if your windows were closed to passersby, it was because you had something to hide. So to show that you are an upstanding and good Dutchman, you never close the blinds. I would not do well with that...nobody needs to see this hair first thing in the morning.

We shared a table with a very nice couple from Portsmouth, England, who were just visiting for New Years. We had unlimited wine, cheese, and nuts, accompanied by lovely conversation where we got tips on where to visit, and where to stay when we try to get to London. When we came full circle, and disembarked, I discovered my hat was missing. We retraced our steps to "the oldest pub in Amsterdam", Café Karpershoek. Apparently in operation since 1606. We'd stopped in there to kill time until our cruise left. My hat waited for me under a chair next to a wall of ancient blue Delft tiles. The weather hasn't been quite so cold, but I was still very glad to find it.

Today, Saturday, after a nice "lay in", we made our way to one of the most visited spots in all of Holland. The Rijks Museum. When we got there, the line was out the door, around the corner, and around the next corner. But, we got to sneak to the front of the que because we bought an "I amsterdam" pass, and one of the perks besides getting a discount at tons of places, is skipping the line at a lot of popular places. You get to feel special. The museum has been in operation since 1798, but in this location since 1885. The tram stop, Museumplein (Museum Square) is a wonderland of art and beauty. The Van Gogh (which is NOT pronounced Van Go, but something more like Van Gawk, or Van Gahch) sits right next door, the Diamond museum, across the street. It's focus is on the Netherlands "Golden Age" which dominated in the 17th century. Housed here are such masterpieces as Rembrandt's "The Night Watch", and his 22 year old, and 55 year old self portraits. Also Vermeer's "The Kitchen Maid", and my new favorite, Hendrick Avercamp's "Winter Landscape with Ice Skaters" which is a snippet of 1609 Dutch winter activities, complete with a man relieving himself on a tree... There is also a stunning collection of silver work, and Delft pieces, and also two amazingly detailed doll's houses from the late 1600's.

When we were tired out and full to bursting with new knowledge form our recorded tour guide whispering into our ears for a few hours, we found our way back to the Pijp district, and had some Irish stew and bangers for dinner. We almost got caught up in an anti-Isreal demonstration with about 1500 demonstrators, 2 of whom got arrested (we heard on the news later). People had been gathering as we entered the museum, but it was at fever pitch by the time we came back out. It was a loud and jittery crossing from the museumplein where they centered, to our dinner. For a few minutes we thought we might have to run to get away from the marching course, because cars were being turned around on the road, and the police seemed to be ushering people exactly down the streets we chose to take. At the last minute, they turned back towards the square out front of the Rijk's, and we were in the clear. That'll get your adrenaline up though. Last time that happened it was in Ireland, and we happened to be in the North during the Drumcree March. Shiver...

Tomorrow, we have meeting in the morning, and dinner with the Ploeger's in the evening. Oh! and we got announced on Sunday as being officially part of the Amsterdam Engles Zuidoost Congregation, and I am officially serving as a pioneer here. W00t!

Symphonic Cacophony

2009-01-01T11:02:00.016+01:00

Looking out my window this morning, I find myself still searching the skyline for the occasional burst of color and light that made yesterday so distracting. I just couldn't stay awake long enough to post last night, but the Dutch version of New Years' celebration was utter chaos compared with what I would guess ya'll just experienced back home. In the states, whenever I've seen fireworks displays, it's always been an organized event. You go to the fairgrounds, the city center, somewhere that could handle a lot of people, safely and with supervision. Not so here.

Can anyone remember a movie with a bad guy in a high rise building looking out over a huge city and playing conductor to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture while blowing up buildings in time with the music? I want to say it was Jack Nicholson's version of the Joker, but I can't reacall. Anyways, it was kind of like that.

Up in our glass tower, it felt like all of Holland was trying to put on a show just for us, competing for our attention on all sides. People have been shooting off fireworks sporadically for a week now, but it still didn't prepare me for the hour long symphonic cacophony that surrounded our living room, touching off at midnight. The sky became a solid block of noise and lights to vie with Las Vegas hottest strip. From around 7pm on until about 2:30 in the morning it just didn't stop, but the crescendo, from midnight until 1am, absotively posolutely dwarfed any ostentation I've ever witnessed. We saw huge blasts going up from the bus station, our own parking lot, directly over the freeway (and it's moving vehicles), with little or no concern for who might be walking by, or where the sparks may fly through the dry trees. Perhaps because everything is frozen solid, no one frets. There were slow floating red paper hearts gliding up and over our apartment in a gentle trail reminiscent of faeries en route to Neverland, somehow calming as they interlaced the glitz encircling them. One started its descent close enough to our open window to momentarily pull me out of the reverie. But a chance flicker of a nearby flash hefted it all the way across the freeway where we watched until it's fire guttered out on the frozen grass.

We opted to stay in, safe from the uncontrolled bedlam of the city center, and I'm glad that we did. Not that anything bad happened in Amsterdam (that we've heard of) but we had a splendid time running from end to end of our high perch oohing and ahhing over our personal stage. Pandemonium enough for one night :)