davethegrinch.net

Dave says:
As our time here in Amsterdam draws to its inevitable conclusion, we find our lives filled with the abstract and the detailed. They interchange, interact and generally serve to confuse as we prepare to pack our bags and hit the road. Here for your reading pleasure is a brief synopsis of our combined psyches:

Details
Even after only seven months of residency, it has become necessary for us to make the kind of detailed to-do-before-we-leave lists that serve to remind us our extra-ordinary¹ lives are still buttressed by the everyday and ordinary. The paper must be canceled, as must our poor Dutch imitation of Netflix, the bank must be informed, health insurance suspended and so on and so forth. At some point in the not to distant past, one could work, be paid in cash and then use that to buy bread, milk and DVD’s. Now I can’t even sneeze without it involving an internet connection, a dimly recalled username/password combination and translation confusion whist I attempt to manage ‘mijn account’ or contact ‘klantenservice’. For nomads we have a lot of business to cancel.

Abstractions
All those things we promised ourselves we’d do because we had plenty of time must now appear in random abstraction as we rush to squeeze them in before our departure. It’s not that we procrastinate, it’s just we put them off for another day. A couple of weeks past, we viewed the Van Gogh museum (click here for my account of that particular artist) and we will mingle with the tourists to see the Anne Frank house in the coming days. Not to break the theme of depression and death we hope to secure tickets to Porgy and Bess. We have not, and there seems to be no inclination to, visit the Rijkesmuseum or the Rembrandt Museum. I’m not sure why. Strangely, we decided to do some day trips into the interior of The Netherlands. I’m not sure why we did that either. Quite frankly, my dear, it’s rather dull.

Details
I have details to wrap up at work. Call it professional pride, call it legacy building or just call it work. My project will not ship before I leave. This is a shame because, despite my lackluster facade to the whole general working concept, I would have liked to have seen my hard(ish) work be released into the wild. The project is in trouble. Like a parent raising a gangly teenager, I foresaw, and did advise, on the pitfalls and pratfalls about to befall the young whipper-snapper but pubescent pride means they must make their own mistakes. I have no doubt the product will ship but I can never understand why product releases are akin to slogging one’s way up the side of a mountain when they can quite easily be a series of gentle ambulations up pleasant inclines. The view is the same from the top but is so much more enjoyable if one isn’t out of breath. It’s unclear at present if I will be missed. Corporations are self-healing organisms; they don’t take long to clot and heal. Usually, there is panic surrounding my departure but that rush to transfer my knowledge to another willing host has yet to happen. Maybe it’s because reality has yet to bite, or perhaps I have nothing of much value up there anyway. Leaving a job is always a bitter-sweet affair but, in this case, probably a little more sweet.

Abstractions
Out apartment was built in 1700. I think I’ve mentioned that already. It has good juju. We can feel it. Last night, Beth informed us that her cat can summon ghosts and demons. That’s pretty cool, especially for a feline who licks her own bum. We’re certain there’s nothing to be summoned here although one famous resident, not only of our building but of our particular apartment, was Karel Appel. He was a famous Dutch painter. I know, I know, the damn country is full of them. Appel was an abstract artist who worked from the late forties until his death a couple of years back. He co-founded the very famous and influential movement of modern artists called Cobra. Our landlord, Ray, informed me of his famous ex-resident when we moved in and even supplied us with a book of his work to peruse. He thinks it’s all a big mess of paint but then I like big messes of paint. Our apartment is divided into two levels and up in the attic level is our bedroom. Back when Ray’s parents owned the building they rented just the attic to Appel because he couldn’t afford anything more. So, right where we sleep every night, Appel would eat, sleep and work. Around the world, hanging on important walls are important paintings that were created in our bedroom.
For the record, by writing the upcoming sentence, I am not in anyway saying I should be associated to Karel Appel but the plastic camera I received for Xmas as afforded me some great opportunities to ‘get all abstract on yo ass’. Why not while away some more time at work by clicking here to take a look.

Details
The Russian Embassy is a bitch. We went all the way The Hague last Monday to apply for our visas and they turned me away because I was lacking some paperwork that their website didn’t say was required. One needs the following for a single-entry Russian tourist visa:

Passport

Photograph

Proof of residency in The Netherlands if you are not Dutch (this was the information they conveniently omitted)

Letter of invitation from a state recognized hotel in Russia complete with the official Russian Tourist Board stamp (no copies accepted)

Proof that you’ve actually paid for the hotel via an approved Russian tour company

Proof of medical insurance

Sarah was required to fill out a form longer than a job application and then had to pay €130 (€40 more than me because she’s American). It’s a tourist tax and needs to be outlawed. We are, after all, spending money in their country and have absolutely no intention of over-staying our visa to live illegally in Russia (why on earth would we, we’re Americans!!).

The Chinese Embassy is only slightly better. Whilst waiting for two hours with the assembled masses, we were treated to a lengthy and very proudly detailed video concerning the country’s preparations for the 2008 Olympic games. Here’s some fun facts for your fun fact book:

Every Thursday in China is ‘Stand-In-Line’ day. This is a government encouraged event where the Chinese learn that barging wealthy tourists out of line is rude. Apparently, they should act civilized and queue like the British. The Dutch would also do well to have a ‘Stand-In-Line’ day.

The amount of water they can recycle in a week in one of their Olympic venues is 7.989 million liters. In any other government sponsored spin, this number would magically and not unreasonably become 8 million liters or even ‘just under’ 8 million liters. In China, accuracy seems to be important.

Tourists may become lost in Beijing so the government asked for volunteers to become ad-hoc ambassadors and patrol the streets looking for tourists to offer them help. Over 200,000 people stepped up for government training to do this. Can you imagine over 200,000 New Yorkers offering to help lost tourists? No, neither can I. One volunteer was asked about her experience and she said, “At first we were shy and hoped another volunteer would go up and happy them.” We look forward to being happied.

Abstractions
We had to buy books for the trip. Buying books for backpacking is a science. It is a delicate combination of weight, price, text density, subject matter and credibility. Mess it up and you’re left with a huge, heavy but spaciously kerned book for which you overpaid and are unable to digest its contents – a book every backpacker for 10 miles in any direction is also reading and is also wishing they weren’t but the nearest English language book store is in another country. Do not take this lightly, it may be more important than your first aid kit (I have a suture kit in mine, what’s in yours?)

There’s more to be said, but that’s all for now. If you’ve missed our little deluges of the world in a jam jar, don’t worry, only two weeks to go before we’ll be blogging like crazy again. As Sarah said to me last night, “I cannot protect you from the people outside your bubble.” Conversely though, I’m more than happy to protect you from the squat toilet, rusty bus, crowded, smelly, noisy and generally fascinating place that’s the global bubble. Live vicariously through davethegrinch.net. Strap in, we’re in for quite a ride.

¹ After an enlightening discussion down the pub last night, Sarah and I have decided to change the emphasis on the first two syllables of the words ‘extraordinary’ and ‘wonderful’. The world is full of such things and we do them no justice by flattening their sounds. From now on EXTRA-ordinary things are WONDER-ful.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 5th, 2008 at 5:28 pm and is filed under Amsterdam, Global Travels. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.