Safe Houses and a Safe Haarlem

Part two of my three part series on the little daytrips my colleague and I took to escape the crowds of Amsterdam took part in Haarlem. Amazingly different from our Harlem, which steals this gorgeous city's name, we spent an entire day without incident. Try doing the same thing walking around our Harlem for hours on end as a tourist, I am sure that the experience would be much different.

 So moving on without our mugging, shooting, gang-affiliated visit to the Dutch Haarlem, we visited quite a few sites. My favorite would have to be the De Adriaan Windmill. After all these years, they still use it to mill grain on special occasions and have professional, college-educated millers on staff. Luckily, we also enjoyed the presence of a worldly, humorous, and spontaneous tour guide who managed to educate, engage, amuse, and insult the members of the six person tour group. That combination led to a consistently positive experience in which everyone there was ear to ear grinning. In her questions to the group, I was able to get two answers right from a silent group, one of my correct answers was especially lauded. She said to me that in her decades of doing this, I was only the second or third to give the right answer. So obviously I was flattered. The windmill tour itself was interesting, sure, but without our particular guide I fear that it would not have been the memorable, incredible experience that it was.

First View from out of the train station.

Here are the photos from the De Adriaan Windmill.

Gouda Glass and Gouda Cheese

I am sure you can tell by the title that this post has to do with the town of Gouda. It was one of the three little day trips we took from Amsterdam to visit the surrounding gems of the Netherlands. Other than the famous cheese that they share their town's name with, I knew very little about the city before I arrived. It was just a coincidence that I had learned that my favorite Dutch treat, the stroopwafel, originated in a Gouda bakery. The treat itself, two thin wafer-like pancakes with either caramel, syrup, or honey smashed between them is perhaps my favorite Dutch food- and yes, I found and bought some at Giant Eagle since I have been home.

Besides being home to the greatest Dutch dessert, Gouda is also home to a windmill, and the beautiful Sint Janskerk Church. It is truly beautiful, and its gothic style makes it stand out as the prize of the city. The church can boast being a UNESCO recognized Dutch monument, and the main attraction of the church is its twenty-plus stained glass windows that date all the way back to the late 16th century all the way to 1947. Most are of religious scenes, being its a church and all, but the stained glass window from 1947 was to commemorate the liberation of the Netherlands from Nazi occupation. Along with the liberation window, other monuments that deal with my personal project were found alongside Gouda's town hall (I took a picture of it, but it may be too blurry to distinguish) that recognized those persecuted and deported from their town. They also had many more of the sidewalk plagues that indicated a Jewish or other persecuted family was removed from the homes nearby. I was told to look out for these by another W&J student who visited Amsterdam the year prior, but I was surprised I found so many in Gouda compared to those I passed by in Amsterdam.

Before we left, I had to stop at the cheese store. It would be a sin to visit the town of Gouda and not leave with a wheel of gouda for the family, right? So with stroopwafels and gouda cheese in hand, we said goodbye to the quaint little town that was free of the agonizing crowds of Amsterdam, unfortunately it was also free of work on the day we went too. We learned pretty quickly that Monday was the equivalent to our Sunday. Amazingly, despite half the attractions and museums we wanted to go to shuttered, we still managed to have a great time there.

Now some pictures!

These are some different pictures of Gouda's Town Hall also called Stadhuis Gouda.

Seeing Struggles and Seeing Rembrandts

So, at this point I am playing quite a bit of catch up. Unlike my trip prior where I was able to find time to write about each day the day after, this trip has been a lot more hectic with a lot more pictures. In one museum, the Rijksmuseum, which this post is half about, I took more pictures there than in my entire previous trip. I am a little ashamed about it to be honest. I hate to think I spent more time snapping photos than enjoying being there, but I suppose this time I wanted to have an entirely captured experience. Plus, I definitely did MUCH more here in the Netherlands than I did in Malta. In fact, I have been in more churches in this country, one of the most liberal havens of drug use and inclusion, than I had been in Malta, a catholic bastion of EU conservatism.

Anyhow, first we went to the Verzetsmuseum, which translates to resistance museum and chronicles the difficult decisions the Dutch were forced to make under Nazi occupation. After a "heroic" five day battle with Dutch forces, the Germans came against more resistance than they expected and responded by leveling the civilian city center of Rotterdam (Nazis, war crimes, surprising right?). Well, their capitulation came very quickly after their city had been razed to the ground from the skies and from 1940 to the end of the war, they were under occupation. The highlighted motif of the struggles was summed up in the question of  "adapt? cooperate? or resist?" The museum also had a great collection of artifacts from the Nazi occupation including lots of propaganda posters for both the Dutch Nazi Party and their liberal archenemies. They also had a great audio tour as well as a few interactive portions, one that I enjoyed was being given a magnifying glass and being told to spot the forged IDs and ration cards from the genuine ones. It was a depressing part of their history, one most would probably like to forget, and I can honestly say that I respect their candor in admitting their involvement. Most countries, like Poland for example, claim truthfully or not, that they had nothing to do with any of the Nazi atrocities and that none of their countryman participated without a gun to their head or family held hostage. That must be patently false, because how could an occupying force maintain order without any local administration? Meanwhile, the Dutch honestly admitted to having a Dutch Nazi Party well before the war, and while their long history of public welfare prevented the same social unrest that occurred elsewhere, they admit to worsening conditions that led to their own political turmoil. Side by side they told the stories of those that held Jews in their attics and those that joined the Nazi party for personal gain, the stories of the resistance that smuggled guns and forged ration cards so that the hidden Jews could be fed and the stories of those that turned in their own neighbors out of jealousy. The entire museum was well-presented and honest to the turmoil and personal dilemmas that occurred under their unfortunate reality.

Here's the pictures I took from the Verzetsmuseum,

Tropic Museum and Tropic Animals

In a strange combination of activities, we decided to go to the Tropenmuseum which is essentially the Dutch attempt in recognizing and apologizing for all of its, not so wonderful, imperialism that conquered and enslaved much of Africa and the East Indies, as well as the Artis Royal Zoo. Funny enough, it also housed things appropriated from other continents and held against their will.

All joking aside, the Tropenmuseum which simply translates to tropics museum was pretty interesting. It housed quite a bit of relics that showed their formerly vast, incredibly abuse empire including weapons from the period as well as stolen treasures from the people they enslaved. In fact, the whole museum, with the exception of a small exhibit that showed the brutality of Japanese occupation in Indonesia during WWII, just seemed to beg for an apology for what it had done in the past. As a student of history, I appreciated the painful admission of guilt they had displayed so proudly, yet I could not seem to fully enjoy the exhibits. I do not know why, but I feel that the strange combination of repentance while still grinningly displaying your former power over helpless indigenous peoples is just off-putting in a broad way.  

In the more cheery part of the day, the Artis Royal Zoo was incredibly beautiful. Every inch of the park was replete with close, engaging animal enclosures, fountains, and well manicured parks. Of course, many of the animals they housed our own Pittsburgh Zoo had as well, but somehow, in a quarter of the space they were able to fit twice as many animals. Penguins, elephants, and giraffes were displayed alongside more exotic animals I had never seen before in person including tapirs, red pandas, and anteaters. It was simply a delight and I am a little embarrassed to admit that I took exactly 280 pictures at that zoo. In fact, I saw a penguin yawn and I stood there for over ten minutes waiting for it to yawn again to take a photo. In case you wonder later, that is why there is about five pictures of the same penguin due to me missing his yawn and trying again. One other fun anecdote from the zoo, the second enclosure we saw after the water buffalo was a group of tapirs, anteaters, capybaras, and patagonian maras. You will see in my pictures how close a tapir got to me and I was enjoying how close and friendly the animals appeared to be, and I was impressed with how close the visitors were to the animals. Well, maybe I should not have been too glad about that part owing to the fact that, again, second group of animals in, my new tapir buddy turned around and aggressively shot out a liquid (that I pray is urine) out of its backside and, despite a quick sidestep, ended up all over my right pant leg. So yea, I got literally pissed on by an exotic animal. Is that a Hallmark moment? In any case, it definitely made the trip more memorable. I took pictures of most of the animals I saw, like a total tourist I should add, so my pictures will paint quite the picture of my experience. Also, I just wanted to add this little tidbit, guess what the most popular exhibit looked to be, of all things, more people hung around the enclosure of North American animals than any other. Dozens of people stood in awe of the rodents we try to kill or shoo from our backyards including our fantastic little bandit, the racoon and our, never welcome, skunk. Funny that there most popular part of the zoo is two little pests that most people in Pennsylvania can see in their backyards or as roadkill. Hey, I guess American animals are interesting to people that have never been to America, makes you wonder if people from Africa become bored of big cats. The Artis Royal Zoo was very enjoyable and I am very grateful that I strayed enough to enjoy something I probably would have otherwise missed and I am also grateful that every single aspect of that zoo strived to be beautiful, just wait until you see the entrance, even that was a work of art.

First, here are the few photos I took at the Dutch "We're sorry we were awful and killed hundreds of thousands of your people museum" - which they euphemize as the Tropenmuseum.

Statue outside of Tropenmuseum

Jewish Synagogues and Jewish History

Yesterday we went to one of my highest priority attractions in Amsterdam. This location, which was very dear to my heart, was the Jewish Historical Center.The museum included information about when the Jews first starting migrating to Amsterdam, their activities and the synagogues they built here, the role in society and the trades they practiced here, their struggles during the Nazi occupation, all the way to the Jew's weary return to Amsterdam post-WWII. The information was extremely well organized and almost every turn included yet another piece of the accompanying audio guide that greatly expanded on the artifacts they had and the history behind each paining, each document, and each siddur they possessed. In fact, I took so many photos of the place, i.e. I do not think there is a singular corner of the museum that I was not able to capture (with the exception of this smaller Amy Winehouse exhibit, in which I was forbidden to take photos). I will include most of them, I was going to caption them, but there is just so many. In fact, if you want to know what anything is specifically that does not have the information about it in the next picture, just contact me or leave a comment. Well, here they are.

Holy Places and Holy Things

Recently, I went to the Museum Ons'Lieve Heer Op Solder, (which in a more pleasant, pronounceable name is called the Lord of Our Attic Museum). The Lord of Our Attic Museum was initially very interesting and only got more interesting as you explored the 17th century canal house that had hidden a fantastic Catholic Church in its attic. Outside of purely religious objects and the church itself, the museum offered a glimpse into the everyday life of the 17th century Dutch. The house had in fact been three houses that were all purchased and combined by one wealthy man who sought to create a place of worship in the predominantly protestant Dutch Republic. From its grand entrance, to its winding staircases, to the surprisingly ornate altar, the house was full of fascinating religious objects that seemed out of place with what was otherwise a simple, yet large canal house. In short, the Lord of Our Attic Museum showcased the tolerance of the Dutch Republic even in the 1600s. The church was known about, and yet it was allowed to exist. The only caveat to any practicing religion in the Netherlands was that if they were adherents to any faith but Protestantism, they only had to be subtle enough to keep their places of worship from appearing as places of worship from the street. Tolerance was therefore granted to those who were willing to follow that simple, singular rule.

(photos from the Our Lord of the Attic)

A model of the three canal houses that were combined to make the
 church in the attic, as seen from the street

The Back of the same model 

Missing Baggage and Missing Customer Service

Opposed to last time where the project was undertaken only by me, this time I stated my journey with a friend who would be completing his own research project in the Netherlands. The very first day of the beginning of our travels started off with a fun caveat. In order to get to our final location of Amsterdam, we had to take a flight to Philadelphia first. Well, day one, that did not happen. We arrived at the airport just before noon to ensure that we would be there well ahead of our 3:45pm departure. After sitting at the gate that was seemingly devoid of all other people for about three hours, we were alerted to our plane being cancelled by the word "cancelled" just appearing beneath our gate's departure information. As soon as we found out that the flight had been cancelled, we quickly went over to talk to the American Airlines personnel to ask about what we were supposed to do being that our flight had been suddenly cancelled. My friend was the first to call the number we were handed to talk to AA's customer service, he was essentially told an unconvincing "sorry" and that our flight had been cancelled due to maintenance. A story that neither of us believed being that our plane was already sitting at the gate, the same gate that was empty without the two of us. Therefore, our little hypothesis is that the flight was cancelled due to low occupancy, i.e. that would have been a private flight for two coach passengers. In any case, we were told there were no other flights to Philadelphia, and that we would have to come back tomorrow. Incredibly annoyed, we both called our parents to get picked up, unfortunately to start the obnoxious series of airport events anew tomorrow. Before we left however, we did do two things. Most importantly, we asked about our checked bags and were told not to worry about them, they will meet us in Amsterdam despite our growing distrust of American Airlines, and since we were waiting there anyways for our rides, I called American Airline's customer service myself to complain. My complaining got us promises of American Airlines vouchers for both of us, which after a second call to make sure they were coming on Tuesday morning, have still not been received.

Me in Dam Square