Day 1 (Part 2) - Amsterdam/Delft: European Style, My First Dutch Bike Ride and Femke

I would like to apologize for the lack of background in my first post. I was a little bit drunk when I was writing and it was very early in the morning. So let me explain (very briefly) why I'm in the Netherlands before I head off to Belgium instead of France or Italy. I post the whole story after I come home from Europe with much more detail and more correct details.

My great grandfather, Max, fought with the Canadian Armed Forces in World War II. He landed on Juno two days after D-Day and traveled through Europe with his regiment until he got to the Netherlands. In a small town called Boxtel, he and his regiment stayed with Dutch families and lived in their houses to reinforce the front lines. The house Max stayed in belonged to the Steenbakker family--Mother Steenbakkers, Father Steenbakkers and their 9 kids. While most of my great grandfather's regiment would go off and get drunk on their leave, my grandfather would stay and play with the children and was respectful of the Steenbakker's home. Max kept in touch with the Steenbakkers throughout the years (at first, the teacher in Boxtel had to write the letters for the family because no one read or wrote English). The responsibility of keeping in touch with my family was taken up by Lisa, one of the Steenbakker sisters, and Leo the youngest in the family. And my mother took over the responsibility of keeping in touch with the Steenbakkers from her grandfather. Over the last 70 years, there has been various contact with all the generations of our families. I am now staying in Den Hoorne with Leo's daughter, Marike and her husband Lasslo. Marike and Lasslo have a wonderfully expressive daughter, Femke.

That is how I have come to have a connection to the Netherlands and why I will always make sure that my family will have a connection to this country and the Steenbakkers. It's tradition! (Cue fiddler and tenors)

And now to continue my story.

On the hour-long train to Delft, I struggled to keep my eyes open. The young woman seated across from me had the worst luck trying to change her tights that had runs all through them with a new pair that had worse runs. She put them on (surprisingly quite discreetly) and then complaining to me in Dutch about the cheap store she got them at (I actually had no idea what she said but it was probably something along those lines. I just nodded in tired agreement.)

When I finally arrived at Delft Station, it struck me then that I was going to see my old friends Marike and Lasslo who I hadn't seen since my family trip to France in 2004. I almost drunkenly stumbled out of the train with a backpack on my back, my front and their presents from Canada in bags in each hand. I rushed down the stairs to find a meeting place or maybe the station building, but only came out to a road. I wandered left and right in the little underpass but couldn't see any sign of my friends.

And just when I started to think I had taken the wrong train or maybe got off at the wrong station, I spotted a woman with strawberry blonde hair holding the hand of a little (but still very tall) girl.

"Marike!!" I shouted and she turned around and we excitedly exchanged hugs and she introduced me to Femke, who is now 8 years old (the last time I saw her she was 2 and I accidentally made her cry--things got lost in translation.)

They showed me to the bike that Lasslo that morning at the station for me on his way to work. It hasn't been that long since I've ridden a bike, but the nerves of riding in the middle of Dutch rush hour with a large backpack, following friends, and the seat being about 3/4 of an inch too high proved to make riding an...interesting experience. The 7 minute bike ride (which turned into a 14 minute ride with me) brought us to Den Hoorne, the small village that Marike and Lasslo live in.

Their house is larger very quaint by North American standards, but I feel is very much standard for a family of four. But the small abode has ample room for all three and a half of them plus me. My favourite part was the bathroom. It has a separate bathtub and shower and one large sink with two taps--all very modern looking. the toilet is attached to the wall like all European toilets that I've so far encountered. And everything seems to make sense, more so than a North American bathroom. The square, marble sink is slightly slanted away from you and leads to a trough and the two faucets allow two people to use it.

Now a lot of you maybe thinking "so? you can get that in North America if you want it." And I already know this. But when I commented on the sink, Marike noted that it was normal for a bathroom to look like this in Europe. In Canada or the US, that sink would be an expensive "designer" sink or a special order sink. But not here. You don't need an expensive designer to incorporate sleek modern design and efficient function.

I've been finding this throughout my experience with European design. The architecture throughout Amsterdam and Delft seems to radiate efficiency. The construction of tall, narrow buildings with large windows allows for high population density. But glancing into the large windows, I noticed that no one is cramped. People have figured out how to cope with the things they need and to fit them in the space that is allotted to them. I just find that this makes sense. It was Tom Ford who said that time and silence are the most luxurious things today. I think he was right to leave space off of that list.

Anyways, back to getting to Marike and Lasslo's house. When we got a chance to settle down, Femke had to introduce me to her new rabbits--her konijnen. Now, I was bitten by a rabbit at a petting zoo when I was 11. It was painful and scary experience that I have no intention of revisiting. But, I wouldn't let my pride be injured in front of my foreign friends. And the evil killer bunnies were extremely cute. So I sucked it up and let them crawl all over me. This will be fine as long as they don't put their mouths anywhere near my extremities. The minute one of those suckers bites me, its over.

I also introduced Femke to cheerleading ("like in High School Musical?" "No Femke. Much better than that.") and to Simon's Cat. Femke now makes her own motion sequences, cartwheels everywhere and (as she doesn't speak more than 4 words of English) we communicate by "Mraow"ing. As a result, she is one of my favourite 8 year olds.

After I got settled in and showered, Marike made dinner and we had an interesting talk about politics. This was a great experience. Almost like a prep for my course. I got to talk to a European citizen about the European Union. Marike told me about how the bureaucracy is costly and inefficient, but still fairly important for Europe. We discussed the possible future accession of Turkey and the upcoming Dutch election (well it was upcoming when we discussed it). Lasslo joined the conversation when he got home later and added his opinions as well. Overall, it was a very interesting discussion that I wasn't able to have with anyone before. And from only 30 minutes, I learned more than I had in any class I've taken yet.

I also told Marike and Lasslo about my first impressions of style and fashion in Amsterdam. Now I'm no connoisseur of fashion, but everyone (with maybe a grand total of three exceptions) was perfectly dressed. There were people in suits that were fitted to their body instead of looking like the jacket was draped over their shoulders like a sleeved cape. There were the hipsters who obviously made every detail of their image look to be effortless yet high maintenance. There were even those who were just wearing a t-shirt and jeans (an outfit which cost probably close to 350 euros total). It was really refreshing to be in a town where everyone just looked good. And fit. Not a single overweight person in sight. Mind you, that's what you get for being a citizen of a nation that cycles everywhere.

The cycling has to be one of my favourite parts of the Netherlands. Everything is close enough to bike there in 15 minutes or less and there is no loud rumbling of traffic. Marike and Lasslo both cycle to work. Femke cycles to school. I cycled to their house from the train station. I'm about to go pick up Femke from school by bike (This is a tradition among our families. When I was 8, Marike and Lasslo were visiting Canada and picked me up from school. So I'm keeping the tradition alive and picking up Femke!)
While cycling is one of the best parts of this quiet, flat country, my poor bum is quite sore and it's only been a day. I guess I'll have to get used to it.