(Amsterdam)
I arrived in the Schipol Airport tired from my 14 hour journey from New York. I had only dealt with minimal culture shock before this. I traveled on Aer Lingus, so my first culture shock was hearing the emergency instructions with an Irish accent. Next, came my stop in Dublin. I went to buy a sandwich and realized I had only dollars, no euros. Thus I exchanged my dollars to euros and my cultural transition had begun. However, my baptism by fire was about to begin.I exited my plain at Schipol and was bombarded by signs and advertisements that I couldn't read. Shortly after a voice came on the intercom in a Germanic tongue. The monotonous Dutch reminded me of WWII concentration camps, or seeing video footage. And why not? In retrospect, t.v. has provided the most Germanic language I have been exposed to. I hastily made my way through customs and baggage claim to find the cabs. The worst was about to begin. I spoke to the first driver I saw while I showed him the address. He was rude, but seemed confident in his craft so I went with him. As we started driving he said "I can't find this address in the GPS." He then asked me to enter it; no luck. He tried to belittle me for not knowing my address. I "politely" suggested he shouldn't take jobs he can't handle. Within 30 minutes I was lost and in my first Dutch argument! I persisted he take me somewhere near the address I gave him. Luckily, after asking several pedestrians we made it to my complex. To add insult to injury, hurricane rain started to pour as I moved my bags to my room. My first look at my room was spent dripping as if I had just jumped in a canal.
(Infamous "Iamsterdam" sign)
Fortunately enough, I'm alive and living in Amsterdam; well not exactly. I actually live in a suburb of Amsterdam called Amstelveen; Although they are pretty much the same thing. Amstelveen is like Murray or Holladay of Salt Lake City. Within Amstelveen I live in Uilenstede; this is a large complex filled with flats that are set to accommodate students. Uilenstede is like a student United Nations. I have met people from all over the world, from the smallest island to the largest country.
(Amsterdam)
My flat at Uilenstede has exceeded my expectations. I thought I was going to have a fold-out bed and share a bathroom. Turns out, I have a bigger room than back home and a private bathroom. Seeing my bathroom was like a child opening and unexpected gift on Christmas; simply magical. I patrolled the room, checked my view, and started unpacking. Anyways, here's the room...
(Intense Studying as always)
(Ajax Soccer Stadium)
(Planes flying over Uilenstede)
These planes fly over Uilenstede 2 or 3 times a week. At first it was horrible. You could be mid-conversation with someone and lose have the conversation as a jet flies over you. Luckily, I have grown accustomed to them. I now embrace their sound like the waves of the ocean; we have to make the best of it after all.
(My bathroom)
Somehow they managed to fit everything inside what many Americans would consider a walk-in shower type of space. However, it isn't glamorous but it works, which is all I can ask for.
(My Ikea plant)
I got this plant from Ikea to help liven my room up. At first my room looked like a prison cell, yet with some special help from Ikea, my Dutch friend Manon, and her dad's car we turned the place into something Martha Stewart would be proud of.
(Martha's Prison Cell)
The last few weeks have been filled with "orientation" parties. In other words my first weeks in Holland have been spent partying and meeting new friends. Time has been spent eating and drinking with new friends while we all get accustomed and set-up in our new environments. However, our lifestyles are about to change as school starts this week. In many ways i'm looking forward to a more regular schedule with time to see the city and of course study. Hey if nothing else, maybe I'll make it to bed before 0400.
