Alright so maybe it's because of the shitty weather, maybe the constant rudeness from the Dutch citizens, maybe it's the lack of anxiety medicine in my cosmetic bag, but a combination of these and other little tickers are really irking me today. I don't want to complain, so I'm just gonna lay it all out, because someone aught to know. You also aught to know that I'm blasting Alanis Morissette to fuel my angsty attitude.
I'm not saying I don't like Amsterdam, because I do, it's freaking awesome. But I'm tired of being stuck in this white prison cell of an apartment. One of my American friends told me the other day that she is living downtown in the center. For perspective, my complex is about a 20-30 minute tram ride from the center. Anyway she mentioned that her rent is *significantly greater than what I'm paying, but then I saw some pictures of her place on Facebook and it's like a real life house. She had a queen sized bed with a real comforter, decorations that weren't just cards taped to the wall, and an actual kitchen WITH (get this) an oven! Who knew ovens existed in the Netherlands?
I'm not sure why I woke up in such a weird mood this morning, oh, maybe it was because I overslept my alarm? Or could it have been because I was reminded again that I couldn't use my bike? In case you missed that story i broke off the only two keys I have to my bike lock, and one of them is currently residing inside the lock. Which is locked through my tire so it's immobile until I find the jaws of life to saw through the chains that are the lock.
After lunch we went to the bank to finally figure out our internet banking information because we're supposed to get our stipend from the study abroad organization today. But oh, surprise surprise we STILL HAVEN'T. That's right, folks. We have been here for over a month in a half and have yet to receive any of the thousands of dollars our parents paid to Butler for us to be here. 2 months of that money I might add we just lose because we have to leave in December in order to get back to the states in time for second semester. And when I asked who got that leftover money/where does it go if we don't get it, guess what? The lady didn't even know. Responsibility at its finest.
So, sans stipend, I managed to figure out how to still set up my online banking account. This might not sound like that big of a feat, however I should mentioned that all I had to go off of was 8 pages worth of information in Dutch, and a website with no translation option. Most of the .nl sites have a little Union Jack flag up in the right hand corner, which signifies that if you click it the page will be translated into english, but usually the most important ones don't.
Please explain this to me:
So the influx of student applications for bank accounts at the beginning of the fall is all exchange students, the majority of which DO NOT speak Dutch (seeing's how Dutch is only spoken in the Netherlands and exchange students come from everywhere but). What then, would possess ING bank to send out hundreds of envelopes of information to unknowing exchange students in a foreign language, WHEN I might add we all have to know English to be here? Everyone here knows English. Literally everyone. So excuse me if it's a teensie bit frustrating when people assume first that I speak Dutch, or just expect me to figure it out because they don't really give 2 shits if it's in English or Dutch.
All I'm asking is for is English. I know you can speak it, it's really not that hard. Like if foreign people are such a freaking hassle then why do they even let exchange students come here? It would be different if we were in Spain, or Germany, or a country where you go to learn the language. But no one is here for the sole purpose of perfecting their Dutch. Come on people.
I'm drowning in a river of frustration today, praying for a lifesaver. Sorry for the harshness, just what's goin' on in my noggin. Peace.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Monday, September 24, 2012
I left my heart in Dublin
As you probably know, yesterday afternoon I returned to Amsterdam from an adventure-filled weekend in Ireland. Along with our new friend who is here through ISEP (International Student Exchange Program) as well from the US, John David, Emily and I grabbed a Ryan Air flight Friday morning and arrived at our hostel, The Four Courts, around 11 AM.
Emily and I have a group of friends that travelled to Dublin over the summer, so from their advice we knew we wanted to take a day tour of the countryside during our stay. Since these tours last from around 9 in the morning 'til suppertime, we decided our best bet was to do the tour on Saturday, and leave Friday for wandering and catching the other sites we were interested in that wouldn't be on the tour. So, after checking into the Four Courts we ventured out into the city of Dublin and number one on our list was finding food! For an authentic Irish meal to start off the trip, the attendant at the front desk suggested O'Neill's.
Much to John David's and my chagrin, they were out of rack of lamb so I settled for the sausages which were still delicious! We also enjoyed the fact that we didn't have to pay for the tap water, because here in Amsterdam if you ask for water they bring you a glass bottle of water that costs more than a soda, and get frustrated if you request tap.
After lunch we headed to Trinity College, home of the famous ancient Celtic Book of Kells. During freshman year I took a class on Ireland and the Irish people where I had learned some of the history of Ireland before, during, and after the Famine. This being said, I was kind of the driving force in making sure we saw Trinity, but I think it was well enjoyed by all. Unfortunately we didn't actually get to see the Book of Kells, but I illegally took a little peek up into the library and was blown away simply by the fraction of books and architecture I saw. I am constantly astounded by the astronomical amounts of history you can find in one crumb of the cookie that is Europe. It's really something I've never experienced at home, simply because the US just doesn't have this truly ancient history.
After we'd had our fill of touring the campus, we headed straight for the Guinness Factory, excited to learn about the pride of Ireland. The Guinness factory is hundreds of years old, and now the secrets are open to the public in a 7-story tall display, where each floor is dedicated to one of the facets of the craftsmanship of a pint of Guinness. Once you get to the top of the exhibit, you trade in your ticket stub for a complimentary pint, and enjoy the hoppy, thick concoction with a bird's eye panoramic view of the city. I was nervous to taste the beer, because I generally am not a huge fan of hops or dark beers, but the crisp, cold, coffee-esque beverage melted my heart, as well as probably a few of my brain cells. After a quick stop in the gift shop, we enjoyed a giggly walk back into the center of the city.
For dinner we enjoyed some fish and chips (my favorite!) and then went to the Temple Bar area, an spot common to both tourists and locals and enjoyed (...? wouldn't necessarily say enjoyed, maybe endured) some good ol' Irish whiskey while we got to know our new friend a little better over an enticing game of 'Would you rather?'
So, this wasn't Emily's or my first time in a hostel, we had experienced one a few weeks ago in Brussels. However, when we went to Brussels, we were in a group of 6 so we scored a dorm all to ourselves sans any other travelers we didn't know. It's generally cheaper to stay in the larger dorms, so this time the two of us were in a 6 person dorm with 4 randos. We only ran into 2 of them, and while they were very kind and interested in our journeys/backgrounds, we didn't mind scooting out early enough to dodge them on Saturday morning!
Like I said, we decided to do a day tour of the country on Saturday. Not only was this recommended by our friends, but we didn't like how on our last trip to Brussels we were just sort of roaming around, not exactly knowing what we were looking at. We thought it would be worth the money and the time to be guided around, learning about the history and whatnot. Let me tell you with these pictures, it was worth every penny. Our tour guide, Dennis, had an authentic Irish accent and did a phenomenal job showing 14 tourists all that the Wicklow Mountains, Glendalough, and Kilkenny had to offer. We got to see incredible mountains, valleys, glacier lakes, forests, and herds of sheep among other exciting destinations from the popular movie, P.S. I Love You.
It was incredible just to take in all of the sights of the tour, and some of the time I just needed to sneak away by myself to collect my thoughts. It's really hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm actually here. You know I think, "well I could just be in a national park somewhere in the western United States, why don't I feel like I'm in Ireland?" I needed to sit down and really thank God, and just get into my head that I was here, in the middle of my dreams and that this was actually happening, and that I needed to get my shit together and start soakin' up every second because this my friends was a once-in-a-lifetime view.
Of all the countryside, I think the aspect I was most intrigued by was the road we travelled. Not just the fact that we were on the left side of it,
Emily and I have a group of friends that travelled to Dublin over the summer, so from their advice we knew we wanted to take a day tour of the countryside during our stay. Since these tours last from around 9 in the morning 'til suppertime, we decided our best bet was to do the tour on Saturday, and leave Friday for wandering and catching the other sites we were interested in that wouldn't be on the tour. So, after checking into the Four Courts we ventured out into the city of Dublin and number one on our list was finding food! For an authentic Irish meal to start off the trip, the attendant at the front desk suggested O'Neill's.
 |
| From Outside O'Neill's |
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| And again |
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| My meal of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and sausages |
After lunch we headed to Trinity College, home of the famous ancient Celtic Book of Kells. During freshman year I took a class on Ireland and the Irish people where I had learned some of the history of Ireland before, during, and after the Famine. This being said, I was kind of the driving force in making sure we saw Trinity, but I think it was well enjoyed by all. Unfortunately we didn't actually get to see the Book of Kells, but I illegally took a little peek up into the library and was blown away simply by the fraction of books and architecture I saw. I am constantly astounded by the astronomical amounts of history you can find in one crumb of the cookie that is Europe. It's really something I've never experienced at home, simply because the US just doesn't have this truly ancient history.
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| At a gateway in the middle of the campus courtyard |
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| Trinity College Library: home of The Book of Kells |
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| Campus was full of students back for their fall semester! |
So, this wasn't Emily's or my first time in a hostel, we had experienced one a few weeks ago in Brussels. However, when we went to Brussels, we were in a group of 6 so we scored a dorm all to ourselves sans any other travelers we didn't know. It's generally cheaper to stay in the larger dorms, so this time the two of us were in a 6 person dorm with 4 randos. We only ran into 2 of them, and while they were very kind and interested in our journeys/backgrounds, we didn't mind scooting out early enough to dodge them on Saturday morning!
Like I said, we decided to do a day tour of the country on Saturday. Not only was this recommended by our friends, but we didn't like how on our last trip to Brussels we were just sort of roaming around, not exactly knowing what we were looking at. We thought it would be worth the money and the time to be guided around, learning about the history and whatnot. Let me tell you with these pictures, it was worth every penny. Our tour guide, Dennis, had an authentic Irish accent and did a phenomenal job showing 14 tourists all that the Wicklow Mountains, Glendalough, and Kilkenny had to offer. We got to see incredible mountains, valleys, glacier lakes, forests, and herds of sheep among other exciting destinations from the popular movie, P.S. I Love You.
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| A glacier lake |
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| Emily, John David, & I |
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| Sitting on the bridge where Holly & Gerry first meet in P.S. I Love You |
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| Bridge again |
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| The so-called Guinness Lake |
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| Gracefully attempting to climb a 89.5 degree rock hill |
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| Ancient cemetery in a Monastic community |
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| Beautiful Celtic headstones |
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| Sailboat seen as we were seal-watching on the coast of Dublin |
Of all the countryside, I think the aspect I was most intrigued by was the road we travelled. Not just the fact that we were on the left side of it,
but that it wasn't big enough for 2 cars side by side,
that this didn't even really matter because we probably passed 10 cars the entire time,
that the road just weaved in and out of the hills and valleys,
that who really knows where the road was going or how long it was going to take to get there.
I jotted down some thoughts on the bus from one point to another:
- The landscape wasn't as green as I'd imagined, probably from it being nearly Winter
- The amount of uninhabited land
- Bikers must bike for hours through this barren land (and we saw loads of them!)
- We learned that the water has a reddish tint, which you might be able to see from some of my photos, because it runs through the Wicklow Mountains and is filtered through iron. The reddish tint comes from that iron, yet is still safe to drink. In fact the water used to make Guinness is natural water straight from the Wicklow Mountains
- Only every 10-20 years does it snow in Ireland
Finally after returning back to the hostel around 6:30, we took an hour to rest and recoup before heading to Whelan's, the bar where Gerry sings "Galway Girl" to Holly in P.S. I Love You. We grabbed a quick bite on the way, then enjoyed a nice pint while listening to some live music and soaking up the awesomeness of the authentic Irish atmosphere.
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| Under an autographed movie advert signed by Gerard Butler & Hilary Swank |
Needless to say, Emily and I were star-struck. & while I was mildly disappointed that I didn't meet my Gerry during our 48 hours in Dublin, I absolutely loved every second we spent being obnoxious tourists, getting lost by the map, singing Galway Girl in every pub we visited, and even sleeping in my top bunk hostel bed.
Ireland has always been a big dream of mine. I originally wanted to study there during my term abroad, but unfortunately the only programs Butler has with Ireland give you just half of your financial aid which was impossible for me to obtain. I have ancestors from both my mom and dad's families, and have always been very proud to say that I've got Irish blood. I am so glad we made this dream a reality, and will hold tight to the memories we made this weekend for a lifetime. Even though it was short, it was a life-changing experience.
I know this post is long, even though it's mostly photos, but I hope you made it to the end and enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, love from Amsterdam!
xoxo, Messie
Monday, September 17, 2012
A House is not a Home..
Today marks one month since I've abandoned the homeland for Amsterdam. Even though we technically didn't arrive until one month tomorrow, you get the point. Unfortunately, I've been pretty homesick the past few days. It's probably just a combination of over exhaustion/stress/oh I don't know, living in a foreign land. In reality though, I think culture shock has officially set in, and I also think God is working with me by inspiring my grandparents to send me a care package which has just arrived! I'm tellin' ya, the key to this girl's heart these days is American snacks. Yeah buddy.
You know, it's weird because before I left all Em and I could think was "Holy crap 4 months is forever how are we going to survive!?" Then, after we'd been here for a week or so it turned to, "Holy crap 4 months is no where near long enough to do all the stuff we want to do while we're in Europe!" Now, we're regrettably thinking, "Holy crap I can't freaking wait for Christmas/my bed/a real shower/The Cheesecake Factory/home!" And it's not that we're not having an amazing time, we'd be idiots for admitting that even if it were true, but really being away from your home like this is hard. Not only that, but a rug and a candle from Ikea don't really homify a room as much as you'd think.
Today though, I needed to go to a classmate's flat outside of Uilenstede in order to work on a group project. After getting crazy lost (imagine that) she found me, and we made our way to her place. A lot of the housing here in Amsterdam is like townhousy/apartment style. To be honest we really haven't seen "houses" aside from the canal houses and some individual homes at the beach last weekend. This being said, I was expecting to arrive at an apartment just like those here in the complex where I live. When she opened the door though, my jaw dropped.
I mean, it was probably just like any American college student's apartment, but it was so refreshing. She gets to live with her friends in a 4 or 5 bedroom flat with a REAL kitchen, REAL bathroom, a nice couch, a dining room table, etc. How strange for me to get so jazzed about some wooden adornments but just by walking into the living room I felt an incredible sense of home sweep over me. It was such a good, long awaited feeling.
Even though all we were doing was working on a wiki page about the background of Hiberno-English in Ireland, she made me a cup of coffee and we spent some time chatting just about how we had ended up in Amsterdam and whatnot. A couple of her house-mates came and went and were so kind to me, I really felt at peace, like I belonged there or like we were already friends. This probably sounds creepily stalkerish, but these are the kinds of things I value.
You know, it's weird because before I left all Em and I could think was "Holy crap 4 months is forever how are we going to survive!?" Then, after we'd been here for a week or so it turned to, "Holy crap 4 months is no where near long enough to do all the stuff we want to do while we're in Europe!" Now, we're regrettably thinking, "Holy crap I can't freaking wait for Christmas/my bed/a real shower/The Cheesecake Factory/home!" And it's not that we're not having an amazing time, we'd be idiots for admitting that even if it were true, but really being away from your home like this is hard. Not only that, but a rug and a candle from Ikea don't really homify a room as much as you'd think.
Today though, I needed to go to a classmate's flat outside of Uilenstede in order to work on a group project. After getting crazy lost (imagine that) she found me, and we made our way to her place. A lot of the housing here in Amsterdam is like townhousy/apartment style. To be honest we really haven't seen "houses" aside from the canal houses and some individual homes at the beach last weekend. This being said, I was expecting to arrive at an apartment just like those here in the complex where I live. When she opened the door though, my jaw dropped.
I mean, it was probably just like any American college student's apartment, but it was so refreshing. She gets to live with her friends in a 4 or 5 bedroom flat with a REAL kitchen, REAL bathroom, a nice couch, a dining room table, etc. How strange for me to get so jazzed about some wooden adornments but just by walking into the living room I felt an incredible sense of home sweep over me. It was such a good, long awaited feeling.
Even though all we were doing was working on a wiki page about the background of Hiberno-English in Ireland, she made me a cup of coffee and we spent some time chatting just about how we had ended up in Amsterdam and whatnot. A couple of her house-mates came and went and were so kind to me, I really felt at peace, like I belonged there or like we were already friends. This probably sounds creepily stalkerish, but these are the kinds of things I value.
kindness
coffee
the comforts of home
motherly figures
conversation
As I walked the 10 minutes back to my apartment you couldn't have smacked the smile off my face. The sun shone on my cheeks and I was peacefully floating on a cloud. Now, as I sit at my Mac, looking out the window at the plethora of bikes, smelling the crisp afternoon air of my favorite season, the stylings of Brandi Carlile in my ears, trying to resist the tempting Reese's cups on my desk, I am just plain happy. What a concept, huh? How many times have I admitted to being genuinely happy, with nothing to really worry about, no pressing issues giving me anxiety. It's a good feeling that I'm going to cherish into the evening and the rest of my week.
Happy Monday, y'all! Thanks for the support as always. xoxo
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Meanwhile in Amsterdam...
While you are probably enjoying a lunch break, getting ready to push through the rest of your afternoon, it's dinner time in Amsterdam and I'm hungry as can be. Isn't time difference the strangest thing? It's really hard for me to wrap my mind around. I used to think that like events physically happened at the different times in different time zones.
For example, when the ball drops in New York City on New Year's Eve. Originally I thought that say in Hawaii, where the population is 5 hours behind Eastern Standard Time, that they couldn't watch the ball drop until midnight their time. Not just that they couldn't watch it on the television, but that it actually wasn't even an event that had happened for those poor Polynesians.
I promise I'm not actually this dumb... After these 3 weeks though, Emily might fight me on that one as she's been introduced to my lack of geographical knowledge (yet another lovely trait from my mother). But it is a really interesting concept, that no matter where you are, when an even takes place who's time is it on?
Wednesday morning, at 9:30, I awoke to a picture of a family friends barn engulfed in flames. My mom had just sent it at 3:30 her time. This doesn't mean that for me the fire had been already burning for 6 hours, and in this moment it sank in that no matter what my watch says, it's still the same time, real time, on my mom's left wrist too.
This phenomenon, if you can call it that, has been on my mind especially since this week is the 11th Anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. Having friends from all over the world now (I'm cooler than you, it's alright) I was really quite curious to inquire what 9/11 felt like for non-Americans.
Their responses were just like any American might answer these questions; it was terrifying and sad, the images and videos were all over the news, they found out during school or from their parents in the afternoon, and it's still fresh in the minds of citizens everywhere. So, even though it was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon in Amsterdam when our country was attacked, it was just as ground breaking, just as earth shattering as it was at 9:30 in NYC, or 4:30 in Hawaii.
And just like at home, the English channels screened 9/11 memorial programming all week, but unlike at home, there were no American flags flying at half mass, or special moments of silence, or somber conversations about "Where were you?..." It was a very foreign feeling remembering September 11th across the globe, but we wore our stars and stripes, and discussed our feelings together just like we would be at home.
So, whether or not you've been following my Facebook stati (what is the plural of status? anybody?) you might have sensed a little tension I've been having with the manners, or lack there of, that are shared in this lovely country. Well I've got a couple stories for you to chuckle at while you finish your snack pak.
This morning I needed to return the Spanish book that I won't be needing for this semester anymore, and had been informed that as long as it arrived back within 2 weeks, that I would receive a full refund. Oh I'm sorry, I guess in America we don't consider a piece of cardstock with a dollar amount, a scribble, and the condition that said paper can only be exchanged in the bookstore for another textbook, a refund.
I tried to keep my cool as I explained to the cashier (who wouldn't even look me in the eye) that I wouldn't be needing any other textbooks and that I would be needing my cash money back. He impolitely informed me again of the condition of the white slip and went back to work. Alright all I'm sayin' is that if my customer service lovin' mama were up in here, that guy would have got his ass handed to him on a piping hot silver platter of choice words.
Again with the rudeness, oh you'll love this one. So Em and I hit the VU cafeteria for lunch today. The food is actually pretty decent, and while they have quite a few choices, the area just isn't big enough for the hungry herd they see every afternoon around 1 o'clock when classes are letting out. We quietly gathered our plates and trays and got into the long hot-food line. Then, out of nowhere, Dutch girls kept standing to our left as if they were just going to hop in front of us in line! I'm sorry but I have been waiting for 15 minutes sister, you're not about to take those last frites! I'm not kidding you there was shoving involved! And cursing for all I know, damn Dutch language.
This is one of those things like if you say "Excuse me," "Please," or "Thank you," I'd be more than happy to let you squeeze in to grab some soup and be on your way. But when you're just hovering there expecting me to move, obvious to the fact that I'm clearly not Dutch, I think that's a bit ridiculous. Seriously this no-smiling, every man for himself attitude is up to my ear lobes.
But, here's a cheerer upper, Emily and I booked our flight and hostel for Dublin, Ireland next weekend! I am seriously so freaking excited for this excursion. Ireland has always been a big dream of mine, and even though I've known I'd be living in Europe for months now, I never thought we'd be able to make this dream a reality. My great-grandparents Fagan came over from Ireland, so I've got some history there too! And hey, who knows maybe I'll write my own P.S. I Love You while we're there? Only time will tell :)
Also on the radar are London, Scotland, Barcelona, Munich, and possibly even Paris and Rome! Now I know everyone is always like, "Oh my gosh it's like super easy and cheap to travel around Europe!" But while it might be easy, it's really not as cheap as I was expecting. This has been difficult for me to factor into my fickle, financial stressed brain, but I'm trying to take on the 'When in Rome' attitude, because I know I'll never have this opportunity again, and who knows when or if I'll ever be back in Europe.
Well folks, I hope that you have enjoyed this update from whatever time zone you find yourself in, and that it has found you well. God bless, and keep the prayers, e-mails, and life updates comin'!
xoxo,
Jessie
For example, when the ball drops in New York City on New Year's Eve. Originally I thought that say in Hawaii, where the population is 5 hours behind Eastern Standard Time, that they couldn't watch the ball drop until midnight their time. Not just that they couldn't watch it on the television, but that it actually wasn't even an event that had happened for those poor Polynesians.
I promise I'm not actually this dumb... After these 3 weeks though, Emily might fight me on that one as she's been introduced to my lack of geographical knowledge (yet another lovely trait from my mother). But it is a really interesting concept, that no matter where you are, when an even takes place who's time is it on?
Wednesday morning, at 9:30, I awoke to a picture of a family friends barn engulfed in flames. My mom had just sent it at 3:30 her time. This doesn't mean that for me the fire had been already burning for 6 hours, and in this moment it sank in that no matter what my watch says, it's still the same time, real time, on my mom's left wrist too.
This phenomenon, if you can call it that, has been on my mind especially since this week is the 11th Anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. Having friends from all over the world now (I'm cooler than you, it's alright) I was really quite curious to inquire what 9/11 felt like for non-Americans.
Were they affected?
How did they find out?
When did they find out?
Are they taught about this historical event in school?
Their responses were just like any American might answer these questions; it was terrifying and sad, the images and videos were all over the news, they found out during school or from their parents in the afternoon, and it's still fresh in the minds of citizens everywhere. So, even though it was around 3 or 4 in the afternoon in Amsterdam when our country was attacked, it was just as ground breaking, just as earth shattering as it was at 9:30 in NYC, or 4:30 in Hawaii.
And just like at home, the English channels screened 9/11 memorial programming all week, but unlike at home, there were no American flags flying at half mass, or special moments of silence, or somber conversations about "Where were you?..." It was a very foreign feeling remembering September 11th across the globe, but we wore our stars and stripes, and discussed our feelings together just like we would be at home.
So, whether or not you've been following my Facebook stati (what is the plural of status? anybody?) you might have sensed a little tension I've been having with the manners, or lack there of, that are shared in this lovely country. Well I've got a couple stories for you to chuckle at while you finish your snack pak.
This morning I needed to return the Spanish book that I won't be needing for this semester anymore, and had been informed that as long as it arrived back within 2 weeks, that I would receive a full refund. Oh I'm sorry, I guess in America we don't consider a piece of cardstock with a dollar amount, a scribble, and the condition that said paper can only be exchanged in the bookstore for another textbook, a refund.
I tried to keep my cool as I explained to the cashier (who wouldn't even look me in the eye) that I wouldn't be needing any other textbooks and that I would be needing my cash money back. He impolitely informed me again of the condition of the white slip and went back to work. Alright all I'm sayin' is that if my customer service lovin' mama were up in here, that guy would have got his ass handed to him on a piping hot silver platter of choice words.
Again with the rudeness, oh you'll love this one. So Em and I hit the VU cafeteria for lunch today. The food is actually pretty decent, and while they have quite a few choices, the area just isn't big enough for the hungry herd they see every afternoon around 1 o'clock when classes are letting out. We quietly gathered our plates and trays and got into the long hot-food line. Then, out of nowhere, Dutch girls kept standing to our left as if they were just going to hop in front of us in line! I'm sorry but I have been waiting for 15 minutes sister, you're not about to take those last frites! I'm not kidding you there was shoving involved! And cursing for all I know, damn Dutch language.
This is one of those things like if you say "Excuse me," "Please," or "Thank you," I'd be more than happy to let you squeeze in to grab some soup and be on your way. But when you're just hovering there expecting me to move, obvious to the fact that I'm clearly not Dutch, I think that's a bit ridiculous. Seriously this no-smiling, every man for himself attitude is up to my ear lobes.
But, here's a cheerer upper, Emily and I booked our flight and hostel for Dublin, Ireland next weekend! I am seriously so freaking excited for this excursion. Ireland has always been a big dream of mine, and even though I've known I'd be living in Europe for months now, I never thought we'd be able to make this dream a reality. My great-grandparents Fagan came over from Ireland, so I've got some history there too! And hey, who knows maybe I'll write my own P.S. I Love You while we're there? Only time will tell :)
Also on the radar are London, Scotland, Barcelona, Munich, and possibly even Paris and Rome! Now I know everyone is always like, "Oh my gosh it's like super easy and cheap to travel around Europe!" But while it might be easy, it's really not as cheap as I was expecting. This has been difficult for me to factor into my fickle, financial stressed brain, but I'm trying to take on the 'When in Rome' attitude, because I know I'll never have this opportunity again, and who knows when or if I'll ever be back in Europe.
Well folks, I hope that you have enjoyed this update from whatever time zone you find yourself in, and that it has found you well. God bless, and keep the prayers, e-mails, and life updates comin'!
xoxo,
Jessie
Monday, September 10, 2012
i-n-d-e-p-e-n-d-e-n-t, do you know what that means?
I'm not a very independent gal. You might think that taking a 4-month stay in a foreign land sounds pretty independent, but I've been shakin' in my boots this entire time. People often tell me that I exude self-confidence, and I often laugh in response. If I had to rank what I think my personal characteristics are, self-confidence would be dead last, maybe buried under the others.
But, this semester is all about learning about myself and challenging myself after all.
So, today I decided that since I didn't have classes, I would make the trip into downtown by bike to do a little me-time retail therapy. I've been into the city by bike 4 or 5 times in a group of at least 2 so I figured once I got close then it'd be easy to find my way around. Negative, ghost rider.
I spent nearly an hour and a half on a bike ride that should have been 40 minutes at most, blindly roaming the city. At one point I nearly got hit by a car where a man & his wife I'm pretty sure were trying to melt me with laser beams shooting out of their hellish stares. Then, they acted as if they were going to let me go ahead, I waved them on and the man threw his hand out the window with a shaking finger as if to say, "No, no."
I fought back firey tears and tried to slow down the adrenaline rush. I wanted to give up. I wanted to leave my bike, find a bus, go back to Uilenstede and hide in my bed until morning. Then I thought to myself, I made it all the way down here, I'm never going to see those jerks again, just keep going.
I was still pretty lost after that, but I began to follow the signs pointed toward the Centrum, and eventually found Dam Square, finally an area I was familiar with. This called for a coffee break, so I grabbed an overpriced drink and sat down to collect myself.
While downtown I found a great shopping area (that, I might add I now know how to get to!) and scoped the area for 2 stars and stripes articles for Emily and I to wear to support the USA tomorrow, on the 11th Anniversary of 9/11. I know, I know, I can't believe we came over here without any red white & blue either, but now we have some!
After hitting the grocery store on my way back to the Amstel, I was finally headed back home. Even though I slept in this morning, and really haven't been doing too much, I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. Living so far from home is hard, it just is. It's not just because the food is different, or because my blank apartment isn't cozy, or because I shower out of a drip-hose. It's a whole new world here, and while it's like home in some ways, the people and the personalities are so different. Sometimes very unwelcoming. This is hard for me, being usually so dependent on the help and encouragement of others, when generosity isn't customary.
How 'bout a more positive note!? Here are some random updates about what's happened/happening/and going to happen soon:
But, this semester is all about learning about myself and challenging myself after all.
So, today I decided that since I didn't have classes, I would make the trip into downtown by bike to do a little me-time retail therapy. I've been into the city by bike 4 or 5 times in a group of at least 2 so I figured once I got close then it'd be easy to find my way around. Negative, ghost rider.
I spent nearly an hour and a half on a bike ride that should have been 40 minutes at most, blindly roaming the city. At one point I nearly got hit by a car where a man & his wife I'm pretty sure were trying to melt me with laser beams shooting out of their hellish stares. Then, they acted as if they were going to let me go ahead, I waved them on and the man threw his hand out the window with a shaking finger as if to say, "No, no."
I fought back firey tears and tried to slow down the adrenaline rush. I wanted to give up. I wanted to leave my bike, find a bus, go back to Uilenstede and hide in my bed until morning. Then I thought to myself, I made it all the way down here, I'm never going to see those jerks again, just keep going.
I was still pretty lost after that, but I began to follow the signs pointed toward the Centrum, and eventually found Dam Square, finally an area I was familiar with. This called for a coffee break, so I grabbed an overpriced drink and sat down to collect myself.
While downtown I found a great shopping area (that, I might add I now know how to get to!) and scoped the area for 2 stars and stripes articles for Emily and I to wear to support the USA tomorrow, on the 11th Anniversary of 9/11. I know, I know, I can't believe we came over here without any red white & blue either, but now we have some!
After hitting the grocery store on my way back to the Amstel, I was finally headed back home. Even though I slept in this morning, and really haven't been doing too much, I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. Living so far from home is hard, it just is. It's not just because the food is different, or because my blank apartment isn't cozy, or because I shower out of a drip-hose. It's a whole new world here, and while it's like home in some ways, the people and the personalities are so different. Sometimes very unwelcoming. This is hard for me, being usually so dependent on the help and encouragement of others, when generosity isn't customary.
How 'bout a more positive note!? Here are some random updates about what's happened/happening/and going to happen soon:
- Yesterday Clara, Emily, Amy, Abi, and I went to Zandvoort Beach to lay and play in the sun. It was the perfect day for the beach, and I can now say that I have swam in the North Sea!
- This weekend, Emily and I are thinking about hitting up the Heineken Experience! Cheer for beer! ;)
- We met some really cool Americans who are also interested in heading to Munich for Oktoberfest, so those plans are in the making for one of the weekends in October
- I kinda/sorta jimmied up my shower hose so now I don't have to actually spray myself to shower
- I haven't blow dried my hair since we've been here (fingers crossed it grows!)
- Emily and I started plotting our trip to London, which will include some sort of Broadway show, hopefully Wicked!
- & after testing many brands of Kriek (cherry) beer, we have found one that closely resembles the AMAZING Belgian variety we had in Brussels :)
Well folks, that's all for today! Thanks for reading, and send me letters!! :) xoxoxo
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Please Read the Course Description
So, if you've been following me of Facebook, you know that classes started on Monday. & if you've been paying super close attention, you may have seen my melodramatic status following the start of class on Monday. I first owe you an explanation for that post, and an apology if it seemed that I was crying for attention or something of that nature. I can assure you, my intentions in that status of my "no good very bad day" were simply to vent and get my troubled feelings out in the open.
Now, would you like to hear what happened? Thought so. Monday went a little something like this:
I woke up pretty early before I had to be to class at 1:30, did some laundry with Emily, took a shower, and headed to Uni (what Europeans call college) at about 12 in order to purchase books, find my classroom, etc. I arrived to my first class, Spanish Linguistics Level 3, and the classroom slowly filled up with 8 other students, all of whom were speaking Dutch and looking at me as a foreign elephant in the room.
Back home I major in Spanish, and have been studying the language for going on 7 years now, so when I saw that there was a linguistics course given in Spanish and available (so I thought) to exchange students, I jumped at the opportunity to keep my language level up on this semester out of the States. The professor of this course, we'll call her The Devil's Mistress, had other expectations for me. I will also point out that I had e-mailed her 2 days before the start of class, explaining my situation, and asking if I would be eligible for the course, not being a Dutch student and she never replied.
When The Devil's Mistress entered the classroom she addressed everyone by name, and me by, "oh I received your e-mail, you're the exchange student?" I excitedly replied that this information was correct, and then the fun really started. She then explained, to the class, that she was curious as to how I was permitted to enroll in this course, seeing's how exchange students are never allowed to participate in Language courses. Following this she asked me a question in Spanish which I had absolutely no clue how to answer (I would later find out she had asked me by what method did I learn Spanish back home... now if anyone reading this would be able to answer that question with confidence I revoke my harsh words, however I'm pretty confident this isn't the case) and then, again in front of the class, she announced, "oh so I see you have never studied Spanish before."
And cue tears.
I was absolutely mortified. On one hand that she dare question my capability of speaking a language that is my concentration of study, on another that she put me on the spot in such a condescending way in front of other students who she clearly had previous relationships with, and on my right foot that I had no come-back for her in English or Spanish. I wanted to run out of the class, find my mom, and hug the tears away. Obviously this was not possible, however, so I had to put on my bravest face and carry on with the 2 hour class trying my best to make no mistakes in the activities and even being required to be the teacher's partner for the group exercise.
At the end of the session The Devil's Mistress asked if I needed the credit from this class, or if I was just following the course work for fun. Yeah, right, because a lot of times we buy $100 books and spend 4 hours a week in a class that we're not getting anything for. Honestly confused by the question I explained I would need to take the exam at the end of the course and she said she would get back with me after speaking with her colleagues. Later Monday night, I received this e-mail:
Dear Jessica,
You can stay in Spanish level 3 and we'll see at the end whether you pass the exam in order to get the credits.
Best,
The Devil's Mistress
Okay so now it's a game. If I accepted the challenge I could continue with the course and then just see if she would pass me in the end. Sounds fair. By the way please note the kindness and sincerity in her letter. Great first impression right there. Please also note that the only fabricated facet of this e-mail is the change of the professor's name... Best my ass.
After talking it over with my mom and Emily, I decided that it was not fair for me to have to earn my spot in a class, and that it would not be worth the stress for the entire duration of my stay to feel that I had to meet standards that I wouldn't even find out if I made until it would be too late.
So, after going to my other classes yesterday and this morning, I feel 100 million bagillion times better about school here in Amsterdam, and am even pretty excited to be meeting new faces. The teachers I've had are also a lot more kind than The Devil's Mistress, which is a relief! Phew! After a meeting with my faculty advisor this afternoon I am free from this burden that was on my shoulders and am so so grateful for all the love and support I have been receiving.
Praise the Lord, even when he throws problems your way, I know there is a reason these difficult situations come upon us. Thanks for reading, praying, and sharing your time with me!
Love from Amsterdam!! xoxoxo
Now, would you like to hear what happened? Thought so. Monday went a little something like this:
I woke up pretty early before I had to be to class at 1:30, did some laundry with Emily, took a shower, and headed to Uni (what Europeans call college) at about 12 in order to purchase books, find my classroom, etc. I arrived to my first class, Spanish Linguistics Level 3, and the classroom slowly filled up with 8 other students, all of whom were speaking Dutch and looking at me as a foreign elephant in the room.
Back home I major in Spanish, and have been studying the language for going on 7 years now, so when I saw that there was a linguistics course given in Spanish and available (so I thought) to exchange students, I jumped at the opportunity to keep my language level up on this semester out of the States. The professor of this course, we'll call her The Devil's Mistress, had other expectations for me. I will also point out that I had e-mailed her 2 days before the start of class, explaining my situation, and asking if I would be eligible for the course, not being a Dutch student and she never replied.
When The Devil's Mistress entered the classroom she addressed everyone by name, and me by, "oh I received your e-mail, you're the exchange student?" I excitedly replied that this information was correct, and then the fun really started. She then explained, to the class, that she was curious as to how I was permitted to enroll in this course, seeing's how exchange students are never allowed to participate in Language courses. Following this she asked me a question in Spanish which I had absolutely no clue how to answer (I would later find out she had asked me by what method did I learn Spanish back home... now if anyone reading this would be able to answer that question with confidence I revoke my harsh words, however I'm pretty confident this isn't the case) and then, again in front of the class, she announced, "oh so I see you have never studied Spanish before."
And cue tears.
I was absolutely mortified. On one hand that she dare question my capability of speaking a language that is my concentration of study, on another that she put me on the spot in such a condescending way in front of other students who she clearly had previous relationships with, and on my right foot that I had no come-back for her in English or Spanish. I wanted to run out of the class, find my mom, and hug the tears away. Obviously this was not possible, however, so I had to put on my bravest face and carry on with the 2 hour class trying my best to make no mistakes in the activities and even being required to be the teacher's partner for the group exercise.
At the end of the session The Devil's Mistress asked if I needed the credit from this class, or if I was just following the course work for fun. Yeah, right, because a lot of times we buy $100 books and spend 4 hours a week in a class that we're not getting anything for. Honestly confused by the question I explained I would need to take the exam at the end of the course and she said she would get back with me after speaking with her colleagues. Later Monday night, I received this e-mail:
Dear Jessica,
You can stay in Spanish level 3 and we'll see at the end whether you pass the exam in order to get the credits.
Best,
The Devil's Mistress
After talking it over with my mom and Emily, I decided that it was not fair for me to have to earn my spot in a class, and that it would not be worth the stress for the entire duration of my stay to feel that I had to meet standards that I wouldn't even find out if I made until it would be too late.
So, after going to my other classes yesterday and this morning, I feel 100 million bagillion times better about school here in Amsterdam, and am even pretty excited to be meeting new faces. The teachers I've had are also a lot more kind than The Devil's Mistress, which is a relief! Phew! After a meeting with my faculty advisor this afternoon I am free from this burden that was on my shoulders and am so so grateful for all the love and support I have been receiving.
Praise the Lord, even when he throws problems your way, I know there is a reason these difficult situations come upon us. Thanks for reading, praying, and sharing your time with me!
Love from Amsterdam!! xoxoxo
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Brussels or Bust
Not even 2 weeks into our adventure in Amsterdam, Emily, I, and 4 of our fabulous new international friends made a weekend trip to Brussels, Belgium. While I knew Brussels was a pretty cool place, I had no idea what I was in for and was astounded at the awesomeness that was this weekend. Here's a little rundown of how the weekend went:
Wednesday evening Abi, Amy, Georgie, Clara, Emily and I booked our Megabus tickets (just 13 Euros per) and our hostel (20 Euros each) before heading downtown for the night.
Thursday morning we caught the bus at 11, and bid farewell to Amsterdam on a 3 hour long, trafficy, and sleepless voyage to Brussels. Upon arrival in the city, the bus dropped us off with absolutely no clue where we were nor how to get to where we needed to be. We instinctively headed toward an area swarming with people, and asked for directions at a hostel nearby.
This hostel was right downtown in the city centre, and as we curiously peered at the map on the door, the owner stepped out and asked if we needed help. We told him the name of the hostel we were actually staying at, and dismally he replied with "oh well that hostel is quite a ways out of the city, at least a 15 minute metro ride, it's too bad you've already booked." Thanks ass hole.
So we hiked up our backpacks, picked up our dignity, and headed for the metro station where we purchased 3-day metro passes and made our way to our new home. One thing I would like to mention here... a little off topic... but I have noticed during my time in the Netherlands so far that there aren't many Muslims in the area where we're staying. Even downtown in the melting pot of nationalities, we don't see hardly any burkhas or covered women at all for that matter. Now, imagine our surprise when we exit the metro to enter a crowd where every woman was clothed in this way. Every way we turned were Muslim women, children, and men, staring at our colorfully western wardrobe. During the 10 minute walk from the station to our hostel it seemed like we were in a different country completely, and I have to admit I was less than comfortable. Later we would read that our hostel was described as being smack dab in the middle of a thriving immigrant community..... Finally though, we found Generation Europe, our humble abode!
With being a group of 6 women, we got a dorm all to ourselves with 8 bunk beds and our own bathroom! It was clean, with a giant open window, and if nothing else at least we didn't have to pay for the sheets (which I hear is common in European youth hostels). We took an hour to clean up and then headed into town to explore and find some frites!
Clara, our German friend, was our guide for the weekend as she was uncannily amazing with a map (a talent I certainly don't have... I blame my mother for that one) and lead us to all the sites and stops we wanted to make. Our weekend was filled with famous frites with mayonaisse at the oldest fritterie in Belgium, the Magritte exhibit at an art museum, hundreds of breathtaking buildings, a bar famous for having over 200 beers on tap, and enough waffles and chocolate to put you in a month long food coma.
Wednesday evening Abi, Amy, Georgie, Clara, Emily and I booked our Megabus tickets (just 13 Euros per) and our hostel (20 Euros each) before heading downtown for the night.
Thursday morning we caught the bus at 11, and bid farewell to Amsterdam on a 3 hour long, trafficy, and sleepless voyage to Brussels. Upon arrival in the city, the bus dropped us off with absolutely no clue where we were nor how to get to where we needed to be. We instinctively headed toward an area swarming with people, and asked for directions at a hostel nearby.
This hostel was right downtown in the city centre, and as we curiously peered at the map on the door, the owner stepped out and asked if we needed help. We told him the name of the hostel we were actually staying at, and dismally he replied with "oh well that hostel is quite a ways out of the city, at least a 15 minute metro ride, it's too bad you've already booked." Thanks ass hole.
So we hiked up our backpacks, picked up our dignity, and headed for the metro station where we purchased 3-day metro passes and made our way to our new home. One thing I would like to mention here... a little off topic... but I have noticed during my time in the Netherlands so far that there aren't many Muslims in the area where we're staying. Even downtown in the melting pot of nationalities, we don't see hardly any burkhas or covered women at all for that matter. Now, imagine our surprise when we exit the metro to enter a crowd where every woman was clothed in this way. Every way we turned were Muslim women, children, and men, staring at our colorfully western wardrobe. During the 10 minute walk from the station to our hostel it seemed like we were in a different country completely, and I have to admit I was less than comfortable. Later we would read that our hostel was described as being smack dab in the middle of a thriving immigrant community..... Finally though, we found Generation Europe, our humble abode!
With being a group of 6 women, we got a dorm all to ourselves with 8 bunk beds and our own bathroom! It was clean, with a giant open window, and if nothing else at least we didn't have to pay for the sheets (which I hear is common in European youth hostels). We took an hour to clean up and then headed into town to explore and find some frites!
Clara, our German friend, was our guide for the weekend as she was uncannily amazing with a map (a talent I certainly don't have... I blame my mother for that one) and lead us to all the sites and stops we wanted to make. Our weekend was filled with famous frites with mayonaisse at the oldest fritterie in Belgium, the Magritte exhibit at an art museum, hundreds of breathtaking buildings, a bar famous for having over 200 beers on tap, and enough waffles and chocolate to put you in a month long food coma.
On the bus, excited for Belgium!
Famous frites from Antoine's
European Parliament Building
INCREDIBLE Catholic church we took a self lead tour around
Tower that was once a part of a wall that surrounded the city
The Mannequin Pis a famous statue that was a minor let down. Also please note the carrots....?
Belgian waffle with strawberries, whipped cream, and hot chocolate sauce. nom nom nom.
Pretty red mailbox I wanted my picture taken with.
Hostel livin'
All of us!
By Saturday afternoon we were all ready to nap on the bus ride home, and excited to get back to Uilenstede and our newly purchased bikes! This weekend in Brussels was one I will never ever forget, Brussels is one of, if not the most beautiful city I have ever seen and it was so much fun to share this experience with new friends!
When I got back to my flat, I was surprised with a package from home, just what I needed :) Emily and I went to bed early and found our new church this morning! Crossroads is the name of the church, and service is held in Amstelveen University, where the band stands in a circle in the middle of an auditorium-like space, with a large group of people who all just really want to be there, worshipping God. I took a well deserved nap after church and finished the day with a bike ride downtown which was probably the scariest/near death experienced hour of my life. But we found the I amsterdam sign!!
Classes start tomorrow, and I'm really looking forward to getting into a routine again. I also plan to do my first load of laundry in a Dutch washing machine and join the gym to work off all those waffles! I only have one class tomorrow, Spanish, and I'm still awaiting word on whether or not the class will be instructed in Dutch. Prayers appreciated ;)
Well, have a great week everyone, and thanks for reading!
xoxoxo
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