Sitting on a perforated, silver, metal curvy chair at the airport I look out the huge windows as people rush to the airplane stairs. Nicely designed little hand luggage in their hands, some are dressed like they are going to a fancy restaurant, skipping on heals and some got their sweatpants on ready to sleep on this long flight ahead of them.
Like so many of my trips, I am sitting alone. I notice it most while in the airport.
The man in front of me stands inline as his woman fills out immigration forms, or the woman is watching the bags while the man goes to get some drinks or use the restroom.
Like so many of my trips, as I am leaving I wonder why I am doing this. My life is great and I like what I do. I feel no need to escape or even see new things. I feel like I have done and seen enough, been in movement and enjoy some stillness now.
I take a breath to find the stillness within. I pull out my book from the bag, and go into other people’s stories. The Namesake was my gamble this time. A good book is a precious companion on flights, and taking a new book holds lots of possibilities…
The first chunk of the book tells a story of Indian immigrants to the states, and how they settle in. The man has his university job and is living his dreams while his wife is still virtually living in India, her mind and longings, waiting to go back home.
That sense of home, of family strikes me and pinches in the belly as I sit in the airport. The airport is the true land of possibilities. I look at the monitors and see letters, making up words, representing huge stories, names of cities, that immediately bring up whole cultures to mind, smells, weather, food, faces, dress code…
When arriving to Amsterdam I can’t help but notice the women. Tall women were always my weakness, and women in boots even more. Just to be clear, we are talking about stylish boots, some heal, nice black tights, and maybe a skirt. Some wearing tight jeans nicely tucked in the boots with shapely tops, a nice coat, not too long, still reveling the healthy slender body. Almost no comfy Uggs boots around, not the perfect breathe through, wind proof or other super new sporty stuff. Seems like those are tucked in the closet somewhere for their next trip away…Functional elegance is what it seems, with a strong feminine sense, of a capable woman. And the fact that most of them were riding a bicycle was even more charming. Again, no one had ultra sporty new 67 gear bikes, but mostly casual, regular old fashioned looking bicycle. Not even the Santa Cruz bike cruisers, just plain old bicycles, some still with backspin breaks.
When on Sunday night we went to he comedy club, we rode our bikes. Wearing nice outfits and sexy shoes, we pedaled through the rain, tied our bikes to one of the endless bike posts around town and entered the club to warm ourselves with a Gin Tonic.
Since my arrival here in Amsterdam, Hannif was a fantastic host, better than any guide to hosting can offer. Well, my diet and drinking habits have shifted a bit, but being a flexitarian helps, obeying the rules of being a good guest, or: in Amsterdam, be a Britt (Hannif is from England). Passport control was smooth and quick, very different than my Irish experience a few hours earlier in Dublin. Dublin airport reminded me of what the Tel Aviv airport used to be like 10 years ago before it was renovated. Well, guess Israel is not doing so badly after all.
Hannif waited just where all the families come to greet their returning loved ones. He was a bit hidden to the side with no big sign or flowers, just Hannif, being his sweet self, ready to go. It has been a while since I last saw him, and yet it felt like yesterday. Observing the beautiful airport, the design and space were first. Then came the girls. Hannif was with me on the same track. I was warned that the girls are not as friendly as I think they are. I noticed that most the Dutch people I met so far were travelers or living in a foreign country, where they naturally spoke English and were welcoming other foreigners, as they were aliens as well.
Last night Hannif hosted some friends over for Champagne tasting. That of course came along with some delicious mango covered chocolates and orange filled chocolates from a specialty little store down the road. I am so happy to see so many moms and pap’s shops, so few big chains, so many charming houses and so few big over the top buildings. Amsterdam appears to me as a quaint town that expands around its canals. The canals that add such a sweet touch. From the window of the living room where I sleep I stand and see only the water of the canal. Some ducks come by to say hello. Hannif and I practice Frisbee bread tossing to the canal to feed them.
The canals in the red light district had beautiful swans floating in them. Hannif was surprised that they choose to live in those canals. The red light district walk that we took was a show on its own. With all different woman posing at the window, teasing us to go in, some truly beautiful standing in big windows, with a bed peeking behind, like a mini hotel room, perfectly functional for a 15-minute gig. When looking into one of the girl’s eyes, seeing through, to what felt an intimate and real person, I had the Zoro need to go in and rescue her, to take her away, and be with her, to offer her something else. I know that this is probably a classic male respond, and I also am aware that what she is doing might be what she wants to do. Who am I to be a savior? Hey at time, I even thought that there was something alluring in being a kind of performer and having unlimited sex. Yes… I know that reality is different…Thank you…we finished with a nightcap at the Rembrandt square, seeing the trendy nightlife of Amsterdam.
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