The Netherlands

There’s something with runners and us: when we arrived in Amsterdam, the city was overwhelmed by the excitement of a marathon. This was the third marathon we’ve encountered on our trip; we were in Berlin and Bremen during their annual marathons as well.

Navigating through hundreds of runners and spectators in an unfamiliar city is not easy. It took us over an hour to make contact with Martin Wright, our friend and chorus master at Amsterdam opera. And all the while, we were lugging our baggage. Curse you, huge rolling suitcase!!

Amsterdam was sunny and welcoming. We had a blast touring the city with Martin: enjoying Dutch pancakes, passing through the flower market (yes, they do sell ‘grow-your-own marijuana,’ and no, we did not purchase any), marveling at the architecture along the countless canals.

The most exciting part was when Martin offered to take us backstage of the opera house to view the last few minutes of the opera Elektra.

We didn’t know what we were getting in to as we entered through the side doors and made our way through the catacombs of the opera house. Martin took us up hundreds of dark, winding stairs on the side of the stage until we finally made it to the light fixtures. We sat 50 feet above the stage on the catwalk with the stage lights and had the best seats in the house.

The works of Richard Strauss can be disturbing, to say the least, and Elektra is no exception. I was blown away by the mad trilling of the strings (the best place to hear an orchestra is from directly above) as Elektra, having just persuaded her brother to help her kill her mother, screams with wild and deranged passion as she takes the knife in her brother’s hand and stabs herself with it. Wow. Amazing singers, amazing seats, amazing music. Wow.

Re-entering the sun was dizzying, but the rest of our day with Martin passed by cheerfully. We returned to the Amsterdam train station and headed for Rotterdam, where I reunited with my favorite Dutch person in the whole world: Gemmeke.

Gemmeke and I met when I lived in Busingen, where we shared many crazy experiences. I enjoyed reliving them with her as we sat in her flat with hot tea and stropwafels (heaven in a cookie).

We did some typical Dutch things with Gem, including eating lots of bread and sweets, getting hot stropwafels from the market, and riding bikes. Riding bikes was terrifying for Elisa and I and hilarious for Gemmeke.

In Holland, everyone bikes everywhere, so when Gemmeke suggested that we take bikes out to tour Rotterdam for the day, it didn’t cross her mind that Elisa and I are totally inept at such an activity. I was better off than Elisa, having had practice off and on over the years. Elisa hadn’t ridden a bike since she was eight. It took about 15 minutes of Elisa swerving through the streets by Gemmeke’s house and Gemmeke and I yelling, “You’re doing great!” to convince her to actually bike on public roads.

We made it all the way to the Euromast (where we had a great, but windy view of Rotterdam) in one piece, despite running into poles, falling off of our bikes after too-sharp turns, and nearly collapsing with our bikes on top of us every time we stopped. Like I said, more hilarious than a Colin Farrell movie for Gemmeke (though she was still albeit stressed that she would lead her friends to their deaths), and more nerve-wracking than the total anxiety of all our auditions thus far for Elisa and me.

We also accompanied Gemmeke to school for a day. Taking a detour from her medical degree, Gem is doing a semester of African studies. She’s working on her Swahili and preparing to head to Africa for a medical internship in February. Elisa and I got to experience Swahili language and African communication class, where we learned about sign language in Swahili. Taught in English. In a Dutch university.

We had the chance to hang out with Gemmeke's Christian student group in Holland. That was cool: we went to their sort of clubhouse, had dinner, had music and a sermon, and were served beer afterwards. So not Nazarene.

It was awesome to meet some other Dutch people our age and who were interested in real issues. And as usual with Gem and I, the discussions about life plans over coffee were in abundance.

Don't forget the pictures! Photobucket