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Europe I
Editor's note: Jonathan has been consumed transforming himself into a European for the past 4 months which in certain countries required siestas in the middle of the day and in other countries, required months off of work during August and September. The past four months have been a busy time for Jonathan, requiring endless hours of becoming cultured in the areas of art history, architecture, and shmoozing in 11 languages. Please forgive his tardiness.
Arriving from Southeast Asia, I came to Europe with fear of disappointment. I had found culture shock in Asia and braced myself for what I thought would be a continent homogenized into another Western country. I soon realized how wrong I was.
In Asia, I expected dramatic differences and was disappointed when I found small similarities. In Europe, I expected dramatic similarities and learned to revel in the minute differences of our culture. It was in the Netherlands, the first stop in my European tour, which I began to enjoy recognizing certain things; how small they can make a car and how big they can make bread, that cheese comes in one color (and so does most European's clothing), they can afford public health care but can't afford a free public toilet (even Burger King tried to charge, but I refused to pay for the same stuff twice, both coming and going), the nice, wide paths are actually for bikes and the narrow, cafe-cluttered strips are the sidewalks, and seats don't face each other in an outdoor café but instead face outwards with pedestrians being the show for the evening's dinner. In pursuit of free water, I began to enjoy watching the waiter's reaction when I asked for some tap water. Usually, their head began shaking, refusing to understand my request, faking a failure to translate. I even had one lady tell me that they don't have it! I began to sympathize as I watched the Dutch, with great pride, tell me something cost three guilders, knowing that in a couple of years their currency will cease to exist, being replaced by the new Euro. That sympathy was short lived after touring through the continent with a pocket full of useless change.
During my stay in Amsterdam, I lived at the "XXX Shelter" in the heart of Amsterdam's world famous red light district. However, the only obscene thing I saw at this hostel was one of the dorm rooms containing over 40 beds bunked end to end. The XXX Shelter is a Christian Youth Hostel with the three X's being a symbol for Amsterdam and the three hardships it had endured over the years; fires, floods, and the plague. Soon, I believe, they are thinking of putting a fourth X on to represent the tourists. My Dutch friend informed me that Dutch people don't live in Amsterdam, only tourists do. Sure, there were mobs of tourists feeding the frenzy of pigeons and street performers, but how could Amsterdam not be a major tourist attraction with its well preserved, tall, thin, dollhouse-like homes and endless rings of canals, not to mention one of the best museums in Europe, The Van Gogh Museum. The only drawback was that I didn't see one windmill in the city or a wooden shoe-wearing woman with cheese. I had no reason to worry though, because with a short train trip out of the city to the village of Alkmaar, I was able to see a working windmill and a working wooden shoe-wearing woman at the world's oldest cheese market. Just think, I always imagined that Velveeta was going to be my favorite cheese experience, that was, until I visited Alkmaar.
In my tour of Scandinavia, I passed through Denmark twice. Copenhagen, the capital city, became nothing more than a day's stroll finished with a visit to a must see- The Little Mermaid. The Mermaid is one of those things you try to figure out why it has reached such a level of notoriety as to require thousands of tourists to trek to it. But, being part of the whole Little Mermaid pilgrimage was made worthwhile as loads of boats slowly passed and tons of kids climbed upon the rocky platform for a picture.
My lasting impression of Denmark would however be made on a small island in the south of the country. If I were compiling a top 10 list of places I've visited in this past year, the Island of Aero would easily make it on the list. In Norway, I had visited an open-air museum that had gathered historic homes together to create the feeling of a town out of the 17th and 18th century. On Aero, I had the real thing connected by winding, cobblestone roads. How could you help but love a place where the most popular tourist attraction was a museum on the life works of a retired seaman called Bottle Peter? This museum is dedicated to displaying some of the 1700 ships in a bottle that Bottle Peter had created over the years. Best of all, the museum revealed the secret on how the ships are constructed. With me showing up past the island's peak tourist season, Aero itself felt like a secret reveled only to me. On bike, I covered the rolling hill countryside that reminded me of home, except for the ocean that was always a big part of the view. At one intersection, I pondered the easy route or the harder hilly version. An older gentleman approached me, asking if I needed help. Well, I guessed that's what he was saying considering I couldn't understand Danish or he couldn't understand English. He offered me a seat, but first picked a small, red, berry-like fruit from a nearby tree. He gave me a handful and I began eating. Come to find out, they were small plums and mighty tasty. We sat in silence except for my short lesson in Danish. He took my camera to photograph me. Then I returned the favor by photographing him- The Plum Man.
My short stopover in Sweden's capital city of Stockholm, became one long day of celebration, coinciding with the opening of their Annual Water Festival. To close out the first evening, three Australians and I sneaked through a barricade to disco dance the night away, unfortunately to mostly American and British music. If you ever talk with a Swede, they will most likely refer to what they consider their greatest export, popular rock groups. Forget the Volvo or Saab, they are more proud of Ace of Base and The Cardigens. So, it surprised me while dancing to great hits of the disco era like "Play That Funky Music White Boy," that I didn't ever hear a single "Dancing-Queen" type song from easily their greatest export, ABBA. Sweden, however, did provide me with one of my favorite foreign words I've learned since beginning this trip. Are you ready for this? The word is "Hey," which means hello. How easy can that be? Just to think thatevery time someone came back with the smart remark "Hay is for horses," they were actually the uncultured ones. Now I just need to find a language to justify my use of the word "ain't."
In Norway I was able to hook up with an old college friend, using him and his apartment to lengthen my budget busting stay in Scandinavia (a whopper value meal costs almost $9.00 US dollars, giving me a little gauge on what they considered a value here.) Dragging my friend along, I toured through their rugged countryside by boat and train. I hung with the locals and attempted to keep up with a country of people where fitness is not a word on a building but a lifestyle of which they live. Arriving at my friend's home, he suggested we go on a walk. Sure, I thought, why not? Future reference, if a Norwegian suggest you go on a walk, ask if you should bring along a compass and provisions. Somehow we managed to climb a mountain before I cut him short on the suggestion that we continue to the other surrounding mountains. Altitude, I explained, was taking a toll on me, even though we were almost at sea level. In Oslo, I had my most productive day of touring. First, I visited the most beautiful park I have come across, Vigeland Park. Gustav Vigeland spent the final decades of his life building this park for his countrymen, with statues depicting life from birth to death. From there, I toured a series of ship museums giving me a little flavor of the Norwegians proud past as great explorers of their time along with being some of the great pillagers of their time, the Vikings.
Leaving Scandinavia, I headed straight for the Czech Republic, a dramatic contrast in cost in hope of stopping the uncontrollable bleeding red in my budget.
"Bellissima," exclaimed one of my new-found Italian friends as we strolled through the streets of Prague in the Czech Republic. I don't know what he was calling beautiful, the women or the city. From my vantage point, he was understating on both accounts. Prague quickly won me over as the high standard which, unfortunately, for the rest of Europe their cities would end up being judged against. A maze of winding, cobblestone streets leading from one square to another, Prague, I learned was a city all about strolling. During the stroll, one couldn't help but notice what makes this city stand far above the other well-preserved places throughout Europe. This place has a soul, a heart, a beat. It has a life, whereas many of the other beautiful cities in Europe are lifeless. Best of all, this city is very light on the budget.
All within the Old Town Square and 24 hours, I had witnessed five weddings, a jazz band where the singer used a megaphone to amplify his "yibiddy yabbie jabber," a group of Jordanian tourists dressed in their traditional clothing dancing to a drum and bagpipe beat,followed by a high energy group of Italians grabbing dancing partners from the gathering crowd, while hopping along to an accordion accompaniment. If this wasn't enough, I saw a man twirling fire and a dragon being led around by two uniquely dressed woman promoting their variety show. This place was a photographer's dream. "Why you take so many pictures of us?" one of the uniquely dressed women inquired. "To show my friends in America how beautiful Czech women are," I responded. "We not Czech, we Russian!" they shot back. "To show all of my friends in America how beautiful Russian women are," I responded.
"Bellissima."
In an attempt to beat the Y2K bug problem, I've gradually emptied out my bank account over the past year and have recently began to place debt on the credit card, in hopes of blaming it on a computer glitch. Currently, I've decided to do a big U-turn on the around the world tour and back track to India to finish off my journey by Christmas.
Ciao for now...Jonathan Adams
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