Amsterdam greeted us with the traditional early summer gift of cold rain. Fortunately I had my trusty umbrella purchased from an African street vendor, who I can't help but love because I taught so many people like them on my mission, and in them I see a Collivan, an Homer, and a Chaku. No one else on our trip really gets it, but I think I'm just forever endeared to immigrants (especially ones that work at hotels because I did that once too).
Anyways. Amsterdam was lovely--we had a very entertaining canal cruise thanks to the audio guide from Ron and Nel, a most-probably fictional couple that just said the darnedest things. Like "this square turned into a different kind of meat market after prostitution became more popular" and "rumor has it this bridge is called 'skinny bridge' because it's narrow" and "remember when your veil fell into the river on our wedding day?"
These things were funnier with an enunciated British accent, awkward pauses, and an audience of sleepy young adults. But a good start to the city :)
We hit up all the good museums of course, including the Van Gogh and Rijksmuseum, the latter of which I really enjoyed. I grew up playing a version of the game Memory with famous paintings and pretty much all of those paintings can be found in the Rijksmuseum, so I felt pretty accomplished seeing the originals (and knowing there was no match). We wandered around the city, looking at flowers and eating delicious Dutch pancakes. We had a tasty group dinner at a nice Indonesian restaurant and whenever we go out to eat at a sit-down restaurant, it is always quite the experience, usually taking 2-4 hours but always grand.
Going to church in Amsterdam actually might have been my favorite part of the city though--it was way too close to my German mission for me to suppress sentimental and nostalgic mission feelings. I just sat listening to the Dutch with a stupid grin on my face, feeling endeared to members and missionaries I didn't know.
We visited the Anne frank house as well and that was really cool to see after having read her diary twice. As we've been driving across Northern Europe, I've been trying to picture what it was like 50-100 years ago--war ravaged, fear ridden, and weakened by total war. Those are hard thoughts to have, but they are important to have. I know I'm not European, but I feel a strong connection with those who fought, those who were left behind, those who were cast out and murdered. My heart grieves for the silent suffering of so many during both world wars and as painful as it is, I don't want to forget their suffering.
These thoughts were also aided by a really touching World War I museum in Yrep, Belgium. We drove there last night and went to a memorial service. We stopped a night in Brussels as well and had a lecture about the EU from someone...important. Stopped in Ghent on our way to Yrep to see the famous altarpiece from the northern Renaissance and that was cool too. Oh yeah. And we took a tour of a brewery there, except as it turns out, none of us drink so that was kind of awkward. #mormonproblems
Basically we've just been galavanting across Northern Europe in our awesome BYU study abroad bus, stopping in small cities to see cool museums and monuments (including one literally in Canada--a part of France they gave to the Canadians in gratitude for their help in the war).
And I just remembered that as fun as church was, my favorite thing we did in the northern lands was actually a bike tour to the kinderdyke. We rode bikes around the countryside in holland for two gleeful hours, saw the windmills (including the noisy inside), had a picnic, and played a game of soccer with our Dutch guides. So much goodness. The bike ride reminded me a little bit of my mission birthday bike ride out in the peaceful German countryside (except I didn't have to climb through a dark field or take a miracle train back home because the Dutch guides were a better than missionary instinct).
Whew. The adventure doesn't stop and the thoughts just keep flying.
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