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DAY 31 Tuesday, May 31st 2005 I went to a different ATM and withdrew the money I needed. So this ATM worked. Good. I then left all my baggage there at the hotel and went to the post office to mail of yet more unneeded items. By the way, this time the post only cost my 24.o0 euros. Last time it was 50.00 euros for the same weight of package. I figured out what happened, at the last post office the girl charged me 24.oo euros for a post office issued card board box. It should have been 2.40 euros. I figured that one out about three weeks to late. Talk about being slow on the uptake! Anyway, Jeff should be getting his Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt Amsterdam soon. After that I left Haarlem to go to the U.S. Consulate in Amsterdam. It has now been 7 days since I applied for a new passport, they said it would be ready today. By 10:10 I had my train ticket and was off. I patiently went through all the security lines again and walked up to the desk/window. The desk clerk there said that the DHL package (with my passport in it) came yesterday but they were closed for the holiday so they should be dropping it off today. I laughed with the desk clerk a moment about holidays. She apologizes profusely and I blithely mention that it is no problem I will just wait around a bit. I took a seat and waited, and waited, and waited. The desk calls me back up and says that they are closing for lunch soon. I should go look around at the flower market and come back in an hour or so. I still wait around for a few more minutes. Then desk calls up a badly beaten, limping black man. I couldn't help but overhear his story as he was almost shouting at the clerk. The mafia beat me up, the prostitutes cheated me, the hostel through me out, and the police took my passport. The desk replies that he needs to apply for a new passport and it will cost a $100 dollars. What! Can't you pay for it? I don't even want to go back to California! The mafia there is after me. None of this is my fault. The guy goes on and on to say the most delusional things. The poor desk clerk. The guy is getting more and more irate, this is my queue and I leave for lunch. After lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe (where else?) I took a seat and waited, and waited. It wasn't too bad really. I was not chilled, the room was comfortably warm and I was behind the security lines so I felt pretty safe, especially after last night. So I sat and relaxed as much as I could. After a few hours, though, it got to be pretty boring, so I struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to me. Normally I wouldn't do that, but he was very well mannered as he had asked permission to sit there in the first place and instinctively new how much body space to leave between us. I told him my story (which you all already know) and that really seemed to open him up so he told me his. This is his story...(paraphrased) I am sorry that you lost your passport. That is so horrible! ---------I think back to the beaten up guy that was here earlier. I think about his story and then I think about mine. Mine is relatively benign. So I say "Nah, not really, my passport is probably is some field somewhere and a sheep is munching it for dinner. So, are you Dutch?" "Yes. I am Dutch. I am here to get a visa because my wife is American." --------Oh, how did you meet her? Well I attended the wedding of my friend who is from Norway and he was marring an American woman. We met at the wedding, cliché, I know. My wife was the sister of the bride. ---------I didn't think this was cliché at all. Jeff and I have been together for 13 years, now, and we still aren't married. I feel kind of raw about that, but then our relationship as outlasted most marriages I know. How cute, though for him and his wife. First a bridesmaid, then a bride. I have been waiting for over six months for this visa. It was due in February, but the American office was badly backlogged. ----------Gosh, I wish you the best of luck! We talk on for a bit more then his name is called and he goes to the desk. As soon as he leaves another couple approaches me and sits down. They are young and beautiful and very obviously in love. This is their story... We couldn't help but overhear about what you are doing. It's so interesting. We really wish you the best of luck. ----------Thanks. It's been hard, but fun. So what are you here for? We are waiting for my husband to get a visa. We have been married for two months. I am an American from Nebraska and he is Dutch. -----------Oh, wow! Congratulations on your wedding! When do you think it will come through and how did you guys meet? Well, we think the visa will come through in about four months, September, maybe. We met here in Amsterdam. I remember our first date. He picked me up with his bicycle. -----------Oh My God! He didn't! (I looked to the young man and he as a look of chagrin, pride, and love all mixed up on his face as he looks at his wife. He better not ever play poker.) Yes, the Dutch definitely have a bicycling mentality! Over here they think nothing of it, but if some guy did that in America... We all laugh. ------------Yes, I could see how it would go. So, how do you balance on the back of that bike in a skirt with nothing to hang on to and riding side saddle? I have seen so many countless girls do it and I just can't fathom the skills it would take. Our conversation goes on for quite some time. We talk about all the wonderful things of Holland and through it all the young man's eyes never leave his wife. Fresh, young love is absolutely shinning from his face. How lovely to see. I hope it matures to something deep and lasting and that the flame of desire never dies. We go on to talk about Alaska and how the urban myth is the winters are bad there. In Anchorage the winters are very mild. I mention that Minnesota has worse winters than Anchorage and a young man shakes his head emphatically yes. He couldn't help but overhear and it just so happens he is from Minnesota. This is his story... Yes, I am from Minnesota and I am trying not to think about those awful winters. We all laugh. Then the young, cute couple get called to the desk and leave. I wish them the best of luck to their future. -------------So, what the news with you? Why are you here? (He squirms in his seat with embarrassment when I ask this question.) I am without sufficient funds. I have asked the government to give me enough funds to go home. -----------They wouldn't give you money! Their not your parents, their the government. Oh, yes they will. They can't have Americans wondering around broke in a foreign country and unable to get home. ----------How did this happen? His story is a non-story as he refuses to give details. We move away from this subject to what he his doing in Amsterdam. This young, goateed, soft spoken, wire-rimmed, bohemian has been enjoying, sine winter, all the international and political culture Amsterdam can offer while writing his first novel. Ah! I see. His spent his entire money goofing off. I instantly stop trying to be judgmental and think that people must think the same thing about me. My reason is to come back skinny and healthy and his reason to finish his novel. We all have our quests. He says the best thing he learned about travel is that it teaches you to be self reliant. Ah, I think to myself, is that why you are asking the government for help to get home? I don't say that though. Sometimes, I know when to keep my mouth shut, rarely, though. Our conversation moves on to politics (as it so often does in Europe) and he blithely shrugs off whole entire countries as being wrong. I play devils advocate with him, but really can't connect with him like I did with the previous people. He is young and has a self inflated opinion when it comes to politics. Mmm... I hope I don't come off like that! The bohemian gets called to the desk and the first man comes back from the desk... I got it! After six long months I got my visa! --------Congratulations! I am happy for you! (I can see from his face that he is extremely happy, but doesn't' know the proper outlet to express it. You poor men, so many constraints, on your emotions.) ---------Go have some Champaign and celebrate, you deserve it! Thank you. There will be a lot of Champaign tonight! I wish you success on your journey. He settles on quite joy, savoring the moment privately and I am truly happy to be the first to give him congratulations. He leaves. And the second, young, couple come back from the desk. Your story is so interesting, good luck. (Gosh, I was just thinking the same thing about them.) -----------Good luck to you to! We say heartfelt good byes, odd for people that just met, but sometimes it works that way. I notice that the bohemian his picking up his money from the desk and I finally, finally get called up. It is 4:30 pm. DHL has not come today. Your passport is not here, please come back tomorrow. ---------Ah, damn. I say it with a laugh and a smile and this I think surprises her, perhaps she is expecting anger? Hey, I am the one that lost my passport not her! I laugh some more and try to lighten her day in some way as I know she must have a really, really trying job. And so ends five long hours sitting in the consulate. Writers from Hollywood should come here, its a plethora of ideas for a soap opera served up through a revolving door. Sitting there for so many hours wasn't all that bad. The guards were all nice to me and made sure I had water to drink and every so often one would come up and say no DHL yet. I would laugh and say oh well. Then we would all smile at each other. They all new I was waiting and after that many hours hanging there, they all knew me and were on the look out for DHL. The desk clerk was always so apologetic and embarrassed that I had to wait so many hours and gave me a direct line to call for tomorrow so I wouldn't have to come down again until it gets here. How kind of her. I don't think they hear laughter very much around here. My day, however, does not end here. I raced back to Haarlem and gathered all my gear. As far as Hotel Caruso goes they think I have my passport and am off to Germany. I am not, but don't change the given impression. I want very much to be away from here! I feel unsafe, vulnerable, and exposed while going about the rest of my errands and gathering my luggage. Every so often I would shoot a look to the bar to see it empty. Good. No bar flys. I finish the last of my errands and finally find a presta tire gauge! YES! YES! Hurrah! Something goes right today! I already went to the tourist office and got a map to the hostel on the other side of town. They say it will take me 20 minutes to bike there. (sigh) 20 minutest for them maybe, they know exactly where to go! I am another matter altogether. It takes me an hour. But what an exhilarating hour! It is so freeing to be back on my bike again! I needed this. I needed to be on the move again! Even if it is only across town. I biked down streets I would only walk when I first got here a month ago. I biked through a beautiful park with a lovely slow flowing canal to the left. The late afternoon sunlight was slanting through the weeping willows and other trees. Gosh, it was just a picture postcard lovely evening. I felt like I was literally riding through a postcard it was so perfect, even the temperature. Altogether the most beautiful ride of the whole trip so far! I have no pictures to show you, dear readers, I was finally on my bike and wasn't stopping for nothing! It felt so good just to go, go, go! I made it to the Stay Okay Hostel and I was the only person in a four bed dorm room. I had the whole thing to myself and best of all the bathroom had a great shower head! I locked up my bike in the shed and went to dinner. Imagine my surprise when they served me a four course dinner! The Netherlands have some great, great hostels! Well, this has been a long, long day for me what with last night and all. I slept for 12 hours straight. |