But in recent weeks many mildly exciting events have occurred here in the Amsterdam. In late November, I drug a whole pile of Europeans out to see the Real McKenzies play some quality Scotch-Irish punk rock. Clearly they thoroughly enjoyed the Cannuck quintet, who wouldn't. Sadly no photos were taken by me at that event, but I assure you that good, nay great times were had by all.
A couple of weeks later, a couple of friends and I went out to go see a moving picture, which was a disastrous affair. As I may have noted earlier, my bicycle was stolen and my friends wanted to cycle over. Naturally this required to borrow one from another kind friend. Not 400 meters (that's right, metric numbers. These damned Europeans are already getting in my head) from home, something goes horribly wrong. I step on a pedal and there is a pop and now the pedals do nothing. At this point we still have a bit of time, but it's pushing it, so I call another kind friend and he lets me borrow his bike. One would assume at this point everything that can go wrong has, but if you make that assumption, you clearly don't know me well. On the was to the theater, some Dutch lady puts her trash at the curb and proceeds to dart into the bicycle lane right in front of me. I take evasive maneuvers, but to no avail, as she went the same direction. I proceed to crash directly over her, pinning her under the bike, as I take a tumble over the bars and proceed to skid across the sidewalk and the many rain puddles it contains. While no one was really injured, this was not a pleasant experience. When I finally regain my composure and hop on the bike again, my friends are far ahead. They had no idea anything had happened and thought I was right behind. I catch up, and we make our way to the movies. After another accident involving my friend and the back of an Audi, we finally arrive at the theater. Granted we were 20 minutes late, but that is just in time to see a movie after all the trailers and commercials. Unfortunately the Dutch do not see it this way, as the ticket counter is closed and they refuse to sell us tickets. Bloody savages. Thankfully there was a bar attached to the theater in which we could drown our sorrows.
Following that bit of excitement, not much else happened. Exams came and went and everybody in the building seems to have bailed out of town for Christmas, leaving me as one of the last survivors.
I head back to the U.S. for Christmas and most of January, so don't expect much in the way of posts, although I'm sure you don't as my posting has been sporadic at best.
Everybody have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Chanukah, Happy Kwanzaa and the like.
Now I leave you, as always with a few photos.
This is a tree which seems to be growing in a shopping cart. I'm not sure why it exists, but I like it.
And now we have the racistest ass Holiday tradition I have ever seen. I give you Zwarte Piet, Sinterklaas's (Saint Nicholas) "helper" (formerly his slave) from Africa. It's quite the shocking thing to see, and I was already initiated into this last year. Read up on Mr. Piet on our lovely friend Wikipedia by clicking here. He consists of a bunch of white Dutch people dressed in black face, and everybody in this country love him. The little kiddies will run towards him and scream with glee when every they see Piet.
Here we have a lovely bust of L. Ron Hubbard on display at the Scientology center. The existence of this has given me unending joy as I walk back home from class every day.
This, apparently is how they get large items into homes here. Every building has a hook hanging out from the top and you just wench everything up through the windows. Quite the process, but it's a must as nothing of any size will make it up these tiny stairs.
And finally, I give you frightening snow. The cold at this point was killing me inside. Luckily I will be in the relative warmth of Baton Rouge later today
More to come.
