Amsterdam: The Red Light District (RATED R, kids!!!)

Amsterdam's Red Light District is the real deal: prostitution was first legalized here in the 17th century, and it has been ever since, making this red light district the first and oldest one. 

There is a myth that the red lights of the Red Light District originated because it was traditionally sailers who *ahem* "came to visit." It was said that when they did, they left their red signal lanterns in the lady's window just in case they were urgently needed. Well, thats interesting but not true. The fact of the matter is actually far more logical: people look better under red light. Skin looks smoother, flesh looks warmer, eyes look darker and more enticing... (I made that part up about the eyes- nobody is looking at those).

Now, don't be too scared (excited?) to scroll down- I don't have any photos of the women. Some were definitely a sight to behold, but as our guide very urgently warned us: they do NOT want their pictures taken. If you do and you're lucky, they'll jump and throw a cup full of urine on you (...you did not mis-read that sentence). If you are unlucky, they'll sound an alarm and every girl in the area will jump out and beat you into ground until the cops finally show up to drag your sorry butt to a hospital.

I've been around and seen a lot but still, this place was bit overwhelming for a girl raised in Northern Kentucky; you don't fully realize how many polite taboos you grew up with until they are all shattered simultaneously a few inches from your face. More than that though, I think it's just that I don't know what to make of the blatant prostitution. Is it sad? For someone in our world to feel comfortable literally selling her body for money? Or is it exciting that there's a place where sex is so openly (and vigorously) celebrated?

Well, as long as I could agonize over the philosophy of it and the cultural implications though, I'll be honest: the ladies of the Red Light district windows did not really look as if they'd care much for such a discussion. From what our guide had to say, this was strictly business: rent a room, do your thing.

The ladies, though, are not all that the district has to offer. This area has grown up in this spirit of total freedom, complete physical liberty- the surrounding shops tend to embrace this. On top of all the "coffee" shops, they've got every kind of weirdly indulgent shop or show you can imagine.

Take this as Exhibit A: "Condomerie." Guess what they sell.

If you spend any significant amount of time goofing around on the internet, it's more than possible you've already seen this picture captioned somewhere before. Well, I found the real thing in Amsterdam- these things exist, and you can buy them... although an alternate birth control method is of course necessary (the Statue of Liberty won't actually do much good keeping you baby-free). 

Our guide also stopped us in front of one of the peep shows that are apparently constantly ongoing- for something like 50cents, you can get about two minutes of "peeping" in on... well, on whatever happens to be going on inside. I had to pass on this one, but according to the rest of the group I missed a tantalizing two minutes... of a middle aged woman dancing half naked.

Although I (very fortunately) have no pictures to offer (because we did not see one), also very popular are the outrageous "sex" shows, which are about ten times more ridiculous and trauma-producing than even the name seems to imply. According to our guide, the acts involve doing obscenely disturbing things with items from bananas (duh) to even non-phallic shaped objects. Via heresay, we were informed that a few years past, one of our guide's friends had received a black eye by getting hit in the face with a ping pong ball shot out of... a woman's... well, the punchline is that he had to visit his parent's the next day. There is also apparently a woman who will write you a simple message on a postcard using a pen and her... not hands. Needless to say, it's a pretty "fascinating" place.

Hilariously, just on the edge of this area was the "Old Church," built about 1300. Apparently though its presence was integrated perfectly into the thriving business of the Red Light District. Sailers came in, sinned until they couldn't see straight, then stopped by the church before they sailed out again- for just a small fee, they left sin-free again.

After the tour, our guide took us all out to a pub in the area after- it was a pretty cool group of people just looking to hang out (mostly kids our age, getting their kicks by going on the Red Light tour). 

Our guide this time had a connection at the pub (the guides can usually get the group a discount somewhere after) and got everybody in the group a free shot of Jack Daniels. Haha, you needed a drink after seeing just the surface of what Red Light had to offer!

The charming men's bathroom, courtesy of Ivo.

After we'd talked a bit we headed out with the group to try and find one of the infamous coffee shops/a place for dinner, but unfortunately the girl leading got a bit turned around. After an hour of wandering around the lovely night-time Amsterdam, the three of us bid the others farewell and good luck and set off to find some food. 

Prostitution has been around for as long as we can tell, and personally, I don't think it's going anywhere. I mean, I'm also a strong believer that we must never accept something we don't much like as unchangeable fact (because then that's exactly what it will be) but hey, until we can fix the major problems, the cultural issues we have with sex that seem to cause this pressured overflow, it's not going anywhere. Before we can comfortably face the legal issues though, I think we have to deal with the bigger questions...

Is the physical, the sexual act, is it sacred at all? If so, is it sacred by nature, always something special and to be respected, or is it only so when we decide to allow it to be, when we decide to make it special? And if it is not sacred at all, if the very concept is an oppressive one... what then? Is anyone who can't enjoy this place repressed, stuffy, a slave to "the man" and all that?

In general, the world I've gotten to know so far has way too many taboos and "bad" connotations associated with sex. For centuries, religion intertwined with culture told us to feel ashamed of it, to bury those desires, because the physical was split from the spiritual; the physical body's urges were associated with or blatantly made out to be sinful. Today, although such attitudes are fading, they still hold a great deal of sway over ourselves and our cultures. 

On the flip side though, swinging all the way to the other end of the spectrum by throwing it up on stage on top of a gaudy, rotating bed... well, that doesn't seem such a grand idea either. It seems grotesque to imagine, an audience laughing at the most obscene and absurd things a couple or (more often) a woman can do with her body... And I don't believe that you need to have the ridiculous thrown in your face in order to appreciate what should or shouldn't be respected, so that's no reason for it either. *slap in the face to half of contemporary art*

The phrase you hear dropped over and over is "it's a business, it's just a business." I don't think it can be just reduced to the cold logistics of "business," no matter how many times you say it. And if somehow it can, then I think that might be even sadder. Yet in the end, I have no desire to see the Red Light District shut down by the fire and brimstone (or general tight-lipped disapproval) of the law. I don't say it should or must exist, but I can't help but want to celebrate a little with them and their gritty manifestation of freedom and pleasure. After all, the twisted underbellies of the cultures and systems humanity creates and imposes upon ourselves... that's where so much inspiration originates.

Interesting facts:

~ To this day, there are no male prostitutes window-posing in their skivies (unless you count those in the blue light area, but technically speaking if they're 60% on their way to womanhood I guess we should just round up). Apparently not too long ago, an attempt was made to set up a few sexy studs behind some district windows-- a massive competition was held, and the "hottest" guys were selected (how would you feel if you won THAT competition??). However, after just a few female customers, they were booted out- the ladies just weren't having it.

Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum

The quick facts:

An intensely religious Van Gogh first came to Amsterdam from his home in the southern Netherlands in 1877 to study theology. Unfortunately though, after failing his entrance exam, failing a shorter course at a Protestant school, failing to impress the priesthood by his missionary work (he tried to share in the squalid conditions of his parish, but the other priest's just found it disgraceful), and struggling to live in Brussels for a time, he finally returned home to his parents in 1879.

He didn't have the best relationship with his parents, but his brother Theo was always very supportive. 

In 1881, Van Gogh fell for his widowed cousin and eventually proposed. She responded "niet, nooit, nimmer" (no, never, never), and her family spent the next year or so fending off his relentless attempts to see her. At one point, he held his arm over a lamp flame demanding that he be allowed to see her for as long as he could keep his arm there.

He hung out with Gauguin for a period of time, but the relationship was shaky- Gauguin was pushy, domineering, and had a streak of elitism. Van Gogh never got the respect he wanted while alive.

The "ear" incident did in fact involve him cutting off the entire thing (not just the lobe). It did not involve some girl he'd been in love with though- really, it seemed he'd been so lonely he just hung out with prostitutes as often as he could afford. When he cut off his ear, he wrapped it in newspaper and handed it to one of the prostitutes.

In 1889, thanks to a petition of some 30 townspeople, Van Gogh the "redheaded madman" was kicked out of his house and committed himself to a mental institute. Here he stayed and painted for about a year. In 1890, he walked out into a field and shot himself in the chest with a revolver. He managed to walk back and live for two more days, finally dying with his loving brother at his side.

~

Van Gogh has been one of my favorite artists for some time, so getting to see some of his most iconic paintings in person was really exciting. If you were ever going to do what the best modern poetry does in the form of a painting- that would be Van Gogh. We talk about work being "expressive," but really I don't know how many other artists we can say really accomplish what Van Gogh does in terms of this. I suspect part of this might have something to do with his being almost entirely self-taught... his paintings often mix mediums, and do not suffer from the limitations an artistic education might have imposed. They experiment in style, of course, but more than anything else they seem almost entirely pure expressions of his own feelings and methods of seeing the world around him.

"The Potato Eaters" 1885

Van Gogh was especially proud of this painting. It reflected his love of the peasant life, as he imagined it to be: honest, hard-working, food being earned through their own labour. Though this often shared envisioning of these people might have been damaging socially (ie: "they're happy working out there, they don't need any help"), his paintings are nonetheless an earthy, warm representation of his vivid imagination.

Van Gogh's paintings also just have a very simple, straightforward "look at me" quality. There are many great painters whose work I think requires effort on my part; I have to really concentrate to stand still and look at their paintings pensively.  Van Gogh's works though are so brilliant to look at- I could sit in front of some of them for hours, just taking notes on how it makes me feel, on his style and colors and lines. His style is infinitely entertaining even on just the surface level.

"The Bedroom" 1888

His painting of the bedroom has a relaxing note about it- despite the oddly tilting walls, the distorted perception, and even the fiercely contrasting colors, it seems to me like a view from a trance-like state. The eye is drawn to the bed, and around it the rest of the room is technically very simple.

As Van Gogh continued experimenting, he started to really play with pointillism, adding his own unique style to the concept. To really get a sense of this, you have got to CLICK HERE (website for the museum) and then click on "show enlargement." This was something of a breakthrough in his style, but looking at his older paintings, it almost seems like a natural progression to me- why stop at expressing in color, line, and subject matter? Why not push painting expression into the realms of texture and movement as well? This dashed style seems to express a shivering, often intense motion even in paintings of otherwise still subjects. 

"Self-Portrait with Felt Hat" 1888

One of the absurdly famous series of five sunflower paintings was in the Amsterdam Museum as well. Van Gogh actually painted them because Gauguin was coming to visit, and he had previously complimented one of Van Gogh's other sunflower paintings. Van Gogh used them to decorate the room in which Gauguin would stay. The special challenge with this one was using almost only the color yellow, while still trying to create something visually meaningful.

"Sunflowers" 1889

"Tree Roots" 1890

Although we can't be sure, it is often guessed that one of these two were the last painting Van Gogh ever did; it is certain at least that both were completed in the last weeks of his life. The tree roots seem violent, a messy jumble that cannot be navigated or ordered; he has also lopped off the tops of the trees themselves. In the wheat field, the path stretching through is blatantly cut short, and the sky swirls into a black mass.

"Wheat Field with Crows" 1890

Again, I'm honored to have gotten to see these paintings. Selfishly, I wish I could have gotten my photo taken in front of some of them (no cameras allowed)! However, not having that constant clicking and shot-dodging going on made the experience that much better. 

Amsterdam: The History

Our first sight in Amsterdam was the magnificent Rijkesmuseum of Art and History, built about 1800. It was surrounded by these great, relaxing stretches of just clear, grassy fields. 

Of course right smack in the middle of this area is the iconic "I amsterdam" sign, the signature creation of the city's tourist industry. We still had our luggage at this point and it was prime time for tourists, so we weren't able to get the stereotypical photo in front, but still- fun to see.

As we walked along towards our hostel, we began to hit the main part of the city and with it, all the canals along the way. They were really lovely, and worked so well even in what was clearly a city. Having that calm water threaded all throughout the city and buildings made it all seem connected and relaxed.

The people clearly knew how to take advantage of the water too- there were some gorgeous boats just out for the sun. What a great thing to live near! Nice day outside? Walk about fifteen feet from your house and take the boat out.

There even some houses where you'd have to watch your step!

Once we got settled, we immediately started looking up tours to go check out- fortunately, Amsterdam had free tours for both the Red Light District (which is coming up next) and for the history of the main city. Since I knew even less about The Netherlands than I did Berlin, once again the information was much appreciated.

We started off in the city center, where just across the way there was a good sized festival set up, I don't think for any particular reason other than netting tourist money. In the very middle though, is the National Monument; it's the large stone obelisk. This WWII memorial put up in the early 20th century.

Our guide welcomed us, gave a severe warning about dodging bikes in Amsterdam- they truly will run you over- and then started walking us through the city.

These plaques installed along the side of one of the city's museums were actually taken from above doors all across the city. Each one signified what the inhabitant's specific job was. Our guide's personal favorite (and I'm thinking mine as well) is the one in the top right below... of a giant goat eating a tree? No idea what this dude's job could have been. 

Behind this area was another smaller "I am" sign (I am Jess!).

We turned the corner again and silently entered the Begijnhof through a small brick archway. The Begijnhof is a courtyard established back in the 14th century for the "Beguines"(members of a Catholic sisterhood). Technically though, these ladies were not nuns and made no binding vows. They simply promised obedience to the parish, and came to leave here peacefully and with religion at the center of their lives. If they fell in love and wanted to get married or simply felt ready to leave, they were free to go at any time.

As we exited, we came back out more in the city itself with canals surrounding us once again.

According to our tour guide, there are three layers to all the canals: water, mud, and in the middle? Bikes. It seems a common job around here is to plow the water and pull the bikes up and out. Apparently when the numbnuts who stole (or more commonly, bought what was likely to be a stolen bike) spot police, whether they're being pursued or not they have a tendency to panic and--you guessed it-- will just chuck the evidence over the fence. "What bike, officer?"

Our guide shared some interesting stories too concerning Amsterdam's unfortunate issues with public urination. Haha, well, it seems the city couldn't take it anymore, so they put up some super classy "pissoirs" around the city for the men who just couldn't wait till they got home. These are still up and apparently "active" today- observe:

However, as lovely as these were, they just weren't doing anything for the ladies! So in the 1960's, after hundreds of letters and other kinder forms of protest, all the unhappy women of the city joined together one established day on a central city bridge, lifted their skirts, squatted, and demonstrated their dissatisfaction with the lack of free female public toilets. Needless to say, they didn't have to do this twice- the city put up some female pissoirs shortly after. The sad fact though was that the privacy required was their downfall- the little rooms around the city became dirty and dangerous, used by muggers and the homeless. So while for a few shining moments the women of Amsterdam showed the city they meant business, sadly today the situation is back to the way it was, and women have to pay for a public toilet.

Despite the pissoirs though, the city still found they had to put several preventative measures in place. The most common still up now are these "piss shields," which are angled to literally bounce the urine right back at the perpetrator. Hahaha, a few years ago, our guide actually claimed that buildings would also often set up underground wiring that could shoot an electrical current back along the stream of pee that would zap the criminal where he stood- if these ever existed, they are certainly outlawed now.

We also saw the narrowest building in Amsterdam. Haha, our guide emphasized very urgently that this was not a museum, and we should under no circumstances go knock on this poor guy's door. I can't imagine how many tourists must bug this dude every year.

We stopped along the canals at one point too while our guide went to go fetch us some cheese samples from reportedly one of the best cheese places world wide- I might have to agree. This stuff was so good we all had to go back after the tour to buy a full hunk for ourselves!

While we were still just along the canals, our guide also took the opportunity to share one of her best Amsterdam stories. This is the tale of Amsterdam's Miracle:

Once upon a time back in the 14th century, a sick man was dying on Kalverstraat ("Kalver Street"). As was usual, the priest came to give him his last rights, which included eating the host. The sick guy couldn't keep it down though, so he throws up in a bucket. Somebody takes the bucket, and throws the "contents" into a fire. However, oh miracle of miracles: the vomit bread did not burn!!! (This is way too gross for me to be making up)

Well, the lady who had chucked the vomit was so upset by seeing the untouched bread, she reached her hand into the fire to save it and: was not burned! The bread was cool to the touch! She stuck it in a fancy box and gave it to the priest, who took it to the church. However! Apparently the bread didn't want to be there, because when the priest came back the bread was gone, having teleported back to the dead man's house! The priest takes the bread back to the church, wakes up the next day, and BOOM: bread is back at the dead guy's place.

Now that it was clearly a miracle, the dead man's home was turned into a fancy chapel where the holy bread could be visited. It's not over yet though! In 1452 a fire broke out which left a big chunk of the city in ruins, but (miraculously) guess what did survive?? Yep. And this time, when they took the bread to their own bigger church, it finally stayed put.

Right here though is where most of the Catholic accounts of this "miracle" seem to break off (probably because it's hilarious): The risk of the bigger, fancier church was thieves and inevitably, one clueless idiot broke in and spotted the church's big fancy holy bread box. Assuming (rightfully?) there must be something pretty cool inside, that's what he decided to steal. Once he got out and momentarily away from the cops long enough to open the box though, what did he find? Gold relics, gem-stone rosaries? Nope. He found the holy piece of very stale bread... and was so disappointed he chucked it into one of the nearby canals.

When the panicked people eventually discovered him with the box and found out, they were devastated over the loss of their holy bread. However, no amount of praying could bring it back this time: while impervious to fire and age, the bread's one weakness was water.

~This incident is still certified as an official miracle by the Catholic Church~

The End

Our guide also pointed out one of the new buildings in the area. She told us that the city actually decided to allow its students of architecture to design and construct the new building. Well, as cool as all the students thought the yellow and glass construction was (I thought it was fine?) the rest of the Dutch people hated the thing.

At one point, Chad wisely asked what on earth was up with those hook-looking things that you see at the top of all these odd roofs. Our guide informed us that because of the housing issue, many houses are just too narrow to make moving in and out the normal way feasible. So instead, a handful of decades back, the Dutch started experiment with ropes and pulleys- you'd just have a rope out the window or off the roof, men pulling on one end and the piano tied to the other, and up it went. The problem with this though, was that as the piano (or whatever) went up, it would sway and crash through every window along the way. After he got sick of replacing all his windows, some genius finally realized if they could haul the furniture up just a few inches away from the building... Hence, roof hooks on the buildings.

We wrapped up the day near Anne Frank's house, where our guide switched into a more serious story telling mode. While this is probably also great for tips (the girl ended literally in tears), I also think she was being very sincere. Regardless, the facts she had to share were powerful ones. 

First, she talked about Anne Frank. Anyone who is not currently living under a rock should know the general story: a young Jewish girl, her family and a few others survive for a time by hiding out in an attic. Eventually she's found, and a tragic ending follows, but the journal which she kept survives. However, I think being too familiar with a story can sometimes desensitize you, and on top of that, for some reason I remember just hating reading that book in elementary. I can't say if it's because I'm older now, or because it was better presented (or maybe because I was standing right across the street from her house), but this time hearing the story I realized what a tool I'd been. I think, in part, I might have misunderstood the teachers to be presenting the Diary of Anne Frank as a literary work on its own, rather than honoring it for being what it really is: a diary. 

Our guide concluded with a brief story about Amsterdam's protest against the Nazi regime. During WWII, despite strict Dutch neutrality, Germany invaded and although their resistance was incredible considering their lack of supplies, the Dutch were taken over. Accordingly, the Nazis began separating out the Jewish and picking at them constantly, waiting for them to snap and give an excuse to begin deportation. Although there were a number of violent incidents, perhaps the tipping point was a fight between a group of Nazi boys and a group of Jewish boys- the Jewish boys kicked their sorry asses, bringing one of the Nazi kids to the point of death. Up to this point, all of this had been generally hidden from the major population because of the segregated living.

However, shortly after, the Nazis came into the city and ripped 452 Jewish Amsterdamers (all young men about 20 to 35 years old) from their family's arms, and sent them away to the death camps (only 2 would survive).

Amsterdam, in an unprecedented display of courage, responded in 1941 with a general strike against Jewish deportation. The Communist Party of the Netherlands made the first call for it, but people across all political beliefs joined in the massive protest and, to quite our guide, "for one day, all the people of Amsterdam stood together." The strike was largely put down the next day by German troops who fired blindly into the unarmed crowd. It was the first one of only two massive public strikes organized in all of Nazi-occupied Europe. The Dutch would also go on to organize no less than three smaller strikes, despite the obvious consequences, and even after would harbor some 60,000 Jews illegally while providing key counter-intelligence to the Allies.

After our tour we still had plenty of time before dinner, so we decided to split up for a few hours (Chad really wanted to bike around the city but- although he'd never admit it now- Ivo wanted to go see these tulips). I wasn't feeling too athletic and I was curious about the flowers, so I teamed up with Ivo. Before we broke off, we grabbed some of those delicious fries from the fair area (Amsterdam, apparently also famous for their fries and infinite toppings).

 Ah! I swear, I am not a mayo fan... but whatever that put on those french fries was absolutely delicious.

After about an hour train ride, we arrived. I have to admit, when Ivo had been talking about tulip fields, I really had no clue what he meant- it just sounded relaxing and nice and I wanted to get out of the city itself for some time. However, major points to him: getting out to see one of the tulip fields was a brilliant idea.

Normally, I'm not really inspired to take pictures of flowers. This time, though, was worth the exception: fields of tulips stretching into the horizon, every color you could imagine, and the few people we saw across the way left soon after, so we had the whole thing to ourselves.

In very brief, in 1572 the Dutch revolted and actually defeated the Spanish Armada. This, in part, led to their "Golden Age," in which people were absolutely loaded. It also led to the founding of many universities and therefore the study of horticulture (plants and such). These two factors finally mounted into what the Dutch refer to as "Tulipomania." Lifetime's worth of savings (big money even by our standards today) were poured into buying tulip bulbs-- these things were hotter than beanie babies in 90's. Thanks to Ellen (thank you!) this video came to my attention too-- it's gives the fantastic, super fast explanation/story behind Tulipomania and the especially rare (now extinct) "Viceroy" with lots of fun Amsterdam sights in the background.

Enough history though: more flower pictures! As you walked along, you'd stumble into the next patch of color and suddenly everything for miles was yellow, red, pink, lilac, flared orange:

There was one stretch too that I'm guessing had already been "harvested," leaving behind hundreds of tulips that perhaps didn't make the cut or were simply missed. They were falling apart a bit at this point, leaving these thick blankets of sweet smelling petals along the rows.

When you looked down the rows long ways, they seemed to stretch on forever. When you looked at them horizontally, it looked like a blanket of undisrupted tulips- you just wanted to fall backwards on top of them and take a nap:

Overall, Amsterdam was obviously an amazing place to visit. Although everywhere I go seems to have a unique twist to it, I think Amsterdam really stood out and was so far one of my favorites. How could you not love a city that's famous for canals, tulips, and general freedom? Although I definitely could have done without the bikes of death nearly knocking me down every other street, the city overall felt like what I think being in your mid-twenties forever might feel like: chill yet exciting, full of possibility.

Highlights:

~Street performers were here too! However, I did notice they were a little pushier. Normally, street performers will perform then ask for money. Here though, they tended to constantly beg for money in order to keep the performance going, which was kind of annoying. Still, I've only seen one dude better at street performing with a soccer ball (Paris).

I had another video of this guy kicking the ball around while asking for money and eventually flipping somebody off, but unfortunately the "Google Blog" is kind of crap and won't let me upload anything longer than a few seconds without a huge hassle. However, I can offer this:

~Best breakfast ever? Traveling is tough business, but this morning when Ivo tried to buy a snack for breakfast that the shop was out of, they just gave him a giant sausage for the original price instead.