christmasjones

Amsterdam (tour diary exerpt)
With the exception of the midmorning cleanup crews everything moves a little bit slower in Amsterdam compared to previous european cities we had ventured into. The city would be kidding itself if it didn't realize the impact that legalized marijuana has on the economy. Not to judge, but the city is covered with bloodshot eyed tourists. Thousands of tourists from all over the world. While there is so much more to experience in Amsterdam than the hash and legalized prostitutes in the windows, clearly the focal point on the mind are the hundreds of coffee shop signs blinking to come inside.

We arrived in the city around 9ish. Libor told us to wait inside and don't let any interior lights in the van go on. There are shady characters mixed amongst the tourists. We don't need our gear being stolen.

The smell of hash is everywhere, along with obvious american tourists. In an alley near the back of our hotel there were windows with prostitutes in lingerie. As we walked by the girls gave us kissy faces and waved us inside. Not bad looking girls surprisingly. Unfortunately for them, I have better ways to drop 50 euros. Imagine the creeps that come down here on a regular basis. Definitely no temptation there. Most of the crowds walking by felt the same way I did as they poked fun and yelled at the hookers.

The city walls are covered in bikes. Big solid Dutch bikes. Most of the riders were obviously citizens of the town. They seemed very plain, quiet, and oblivious to the sin going around them. Dutch girls smiled and whistled while manuvearing around junkies begging for change, whorehouses, shady middle eastern men selling stolen goods. I guess they are used to these things.

We went to a "coffeeshop". The shop was devided in two parts. The front counter with multiple cash registers and the rear with couches, seats on the floor, and hookas. At the register there was a menu on the back wall and high up, much like going to McDonalds. The type of marijuana, the sale price, and a picture of the bud. In the city is 10-15 euros per gram, in smaller towns its 4-8 euro. It all depends on which you decide upon. The menu contained roughly 20 different strains to pick from. Afghan, white widow, PPP, jamaican red, blueberry, etc... Once you made your selection they handed you the buds in a ziplock baggie, along with the receipt. Transaction completed. The clerks seemed to enjoy their job. I didn't smell coffee once.

The two days we spent in Amsterdam were a blur. While I did enjoy the marijuana, it was really the beer that I loved. The party scene on the street was very open. Nobody forced you into conversation. Nobody stared long enough to pass any kind of judgement. The Dutch people actually love tourists. I heard a ton of American accents. Funny, to think the language I speak is just an American accent.

There was an aura of familiarity to the party scene in Amsterdam. Festivals. Outdoor hippie festivals back home. That's all this city was! Every morning they sweep the streets. Every evening its hippies and music. I saw countless dreadlocks hemp necklaces, grateful dead logos, and corduroy pants.

The first night it was bar hopping and meeting people on the streets. There was a drumnbass dance party in the club below our hotel. I slept from 3am to noon. The next morning we strolled through the mall area also stopping at random bars, head shops, and more coffee shops. The show was completely packed. A few kids at the merch table invited me to go to Cafe De Mines, one of the few punk rock bars in town. It was on Rommstraab. After asking the venue staff for directions I went solo to the bar. There were some shady characters wandering. They saw my punk gear on and avoided me. Good.

The bar had the greatest bartender known to man. He was alone with a full bar, bussing all the glasses, and cleaning everything. No complaints. I've been to quite a few bars in my time and this guy was the man. There's no "double fisting" law here. Many times he would pour 4-8 beers for one customer. I thought it odd that he used is fingers to pick up the ice. Hey if you don't like, go drink somewhere else.

The music blaring was black flag, blood for blood, leftover crack, rancid, circle jerks, and a few others. I was comfortable here. Many of the Reagan Youth audience were here. Reagan Youths set was the best of the tour so far. People who recognized me told me how great they thought the set was tonight. Very awesome.

Amsterdam was a great tour stop for this tour. Perhaps if anything, it helped us settle down into the tour better. We broke off into groups and I felt myself bonding as individuals with the band members for the first time. While it didn't happen in one night, and certainly took root weeks prior, Amsterdam was that point that I felt a strong brotherhood with Pat, Paul, Al, and Javier. We were on this great journey together.

Amsterdam itself is bittersweet. I'm not sure I would spend the money to solely vacation there. After all, you can get weed, beer, casinos, and hookers anywhere if you look hard enough. I think the legality of these things covers up the real spirit and culture of this city. Every city has a soul. Unfortunately for Amsterdam, its buried under beer bottles, roaches, used condoms, and passed out tourists. If you aren't careful, you will find yourself buried as well.

Amsterdam is a chameleon city. If you are happy, its wonderful. If you are depressed, it wants to eat you alive. Amsterdam is all things to many people. Once you scrape off the layers, as I was hinted, the Dutch Culture is vibrant and authentic. I wish I had stayed longer to see it. Instead the Dutch remain hidden. They give the illusion they are insignificant, and just part of the mosaic. Even my curious nature couldn't pin them down.

Like every traveller in amsterdam, I felt I needed more time. The spell of the city was strong even to a non-pot head like me. A city of many faces. Some faces it refuses to show to newcomers. Maybe for the better.