Travel Ugly--The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
02/01/12
At least I expected the torturous cold yesterday. The day fell grey and snow covered the ground. But today, the sun shines, completely confusing the unmelting icicles on my face.
Everyone looks at me in the non-Dam parts of the city (tourists still, but less). I am surprised by this. I've had this fantasy that I could pass as a native. Do I not have pale, white skin? Do I not have nearby ancestry (Irish and German, not Netherlandian--a word I've made up to hide the embarrassing fact that I cannot accurately name the Nationality here)? Granted, instead of blue eyes and golden tresses, my hair is dark and eyes green, but German and Ireland are not so far away. I think.
So what is it about me that makes me so obviously foreigner? Perhaps the multi-colored hair (though tame, comparatively) and lip ring. Now that I've decided to look, I notice there are no discernible piercings, unnaturally colored hair, or anything else that, I suppose, marks the counter-culture.
I drink coffee constantly here. Firstly, because their coffee is delicious. Far superior for some reason. Also, it's cold--like painful cold. Coffee means getting out of the cold for the consuming, and liquid resolution to brave it again when done. I'm pretty sure this is the reason for my strange Amsterdam-insomnia (and not jet lag, I'm sure).
So what if everyone marks me as foreigner? I'll show them. Before coming here, I threatened all who would listen that I would walk around telling locals that I know how things run here because I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
Despite my apparent Americanness, I was just served a Dutch menu! It's so exciting. I even figured out something to order (though maybe I cheated off the posted English menu).
I heard (not saw) my first batch of Dutch school children. Somehow, all the people here are either babies, toddlers, or full-grown adults. Where are the children? Where are the teenagers? I fear there may be some sort of cloning or stepford-deal or some such nefarious dealings at work here. Did you think I would not notice your schemes, Amsterdam? I am Angela Lansbury! I am Murder-She-Wrote! I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo!
At least I expected the torturous cold yesterday. The day fell grey and snow covered the ground. But today, the sun shines, completely confusing the unmelting icicles on my face.
Everyone looks at me in the non-Dam parts of the city (tourists still, but less). I am surprised by this. I've had this fantasy that I could pass as a native. Do I not have pale, white skin? Do I not have nearby ancestry (Irish and German, not Netherlandian--a word I've made up to hide the embarrassing fact that I cannot accurately name the Nationality here)? Granted, instead of blue eyes and golden tresses, my hair is dark and eyes green, but German and Ireland are not so far away. I think.
So what is it about me that makes me so obviously foreigner? Perhaps the multi-colored hair (though tame, comparatively) and lip ring. Now that I've decided to look, I notice there are no discernible piercings, unnaturally colored hair, or anything else that, I suppose, marks the counter-culture.
I drink coffee constantly here. Firstly, because their coffee is delicious. Far superior for some reason. Also, it's cold--like painful cold. Coffee means getting out of the cold for the consuming, and liquid resolution to brave it again when done. I'm pretty sure this is the reason for my strange Amsterdam-insomnia (and not jet lag, I'm sure).
So what if everyone marks me as foreigner? I'll show them. Before coming here, I threatened all who would listen that I would walk around telling locals that I know how things run here because I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
Despite my apparent Americanness, I was just served a Dutch menu! It's so exciting. I even figured out something to order (though maybe I cheated off the posted English menu).
I heard (not saw) my first batch of Dutch school children. Somehow, all the people here are either babies, toddlers, or full-grown adults. Where are the children? Where are the teenagers? I fear there may be some sort of cloning or stepford-deal or some such nefarious dealings at work here. Did you think I would not notice your schemes, Amsterdam? I am Angela Lansbury! I am Murder-She-Wrote! I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo!