Day 2 - Amsterdam

Day 2 - (Saturday, 14th Jan 06')
As planned last night, Sahil dutifully called me on my phone (my mobile phone in Holland, courtesy Chints) to wake me up, in the morning. My jet-lagged self woke up late and after a sumptous breakfast, cooked by Chints, and a hand-drawn map given by him, I was finding my way to Rotterdam Centraal to meet Sahil and Melissa.
Got myself a croissant and cappucino at the station (A crispy, flaky croissant and a cappucino, par excellence. How much I hate returning to the US when I am in Europe) and Sahil, Melissa and I walked towards the ticket machine. Both Sahil and Melissa have'nt been in NL for long themselves, so this was going to be a lot of fun, as we were to see.
After some ticketing-machine misadventures we got into what seemed like the train for Amsterdam Centraal. A casual observation made by me that none of the people at the station have got into the train, didnt really appear that strange then. It was only when the train started to move, went mid-way till the next station and then suddenly started re-tracking that we figured, something was wrong. Sahil sprinted all along the length of the train, to find no drivers or passengers at either ends. It was just the three of us, happily chatting away in our seats, clueless of our plight to come. Much discussion followed; whether we should break open the doors and walk on the tracks (This is not Bombay, someone said) or just wait till someone finds us here, which seemed highly impossible. So Melissa, the smartest one of our lot (Thank God for her, she knew the emergency number to call, unlike Sahil or even Chintan, as we got to know later, had no clue about it) called emergency. The conversation on the phone, as she reiterated later started off as such:
M: Hello, Is this Emergency?
E: Yes, What do you need, an ambulance, a fire-engine or the police?
M: Why don't you first hear my emergency and then decide for yourself?
:)
The Emergency helper really seemed to have a decent sense of humour; he told her something like "Someone will come to save you soon, Don't worry!" And to think, just before this we were exchanging notes on how we thought the Dutch were really rude!
In a few minutes, two train-drivers were trudging towards us, on the tracks and literally "saved" us. Sahil and I had already started off explaining ourselves, to which they were amused and gave us a "Ya, This happens all the time!" look. The walk back on the tracks, with our bemused "saviours" has been captured on film, by your's truly. The "saviours" were only too thrilled to be on film; they had had their 15 minutes of fame and we, our freedom.
The correct train, albeit late, took us into Amsterdam, where our first stop was for batteries and a map of the city for Sahil. We then, walked through some of the narrow shopping streets, window shopping and getting a feel of the place. Melissa and I exchanged notes on one of our favourite stores H&M, found one and walked into it to get my unequipped self, a winter cap. While Melissa and Sahil indulged in Frites (Fries; thick and oily ones, served with a small fork and mayo on the side), I stared at the Food Wall - a sort of vending-machine-of-a-wall selling Dutch burgers. We then moved on towards 'Daam Square' winding our way through more narrow streetscapes.
At Daam Square, a 'Grolsch' beer vendor, stared at us, all complete with a horse-drawn carriage and beer in barrels. A quick bite at a Middle Eastern Falafel place (There seemed to be many of these around) and we moved on, eagerly trying to make our way to the 'destination of the day', the 'Red-light district'. Melissa had been there before, so Sahil and I geared up for our virgin visit, to the world's most fascinating prostitution market-place.
The Red-light District (RLD, for future reference) of Amsterdam, is one of the best examples of contextually-adapted architecture, I have ever seen. I have already described, the Dutch fascination with exhibiting interior spaces, through massive window openings, to the public outside (The saying 'Washing dirty linen in public' was probably coined by them, too). The RLD beautifully adapts the age-old Dutch exhibitionist ideas, overlays them with their overtly-transparent facades and creates one of the most fascinating retail displays, that too; in realtime. The 'window-wares' (seems like an appropriate term to use here) move around, talk on the phone, comb their hair, wear make-up, do most things women can, albeit in a constricted space. They also gesture, call out, try to lure you into buying them; each 'window-ware' has her own skill-set she tries to use, to draw customers. Potential customers walk-by the display windows, peering into them, trying to see what suits their tastes and what doesnt; pretty much what you would do outside Macy's or Harrod's. The big difference that goes without saying of course, is that in this case, the customer can interact with the window-ware and haggle if need be, on the spot. A typical interested customer, would knock on the door, adjacent to the display-window, negotiate or atleast try to, and then walk-in. The curtains are then drawn across the door and the window, as it's time for business. Once done, you would more often than not, see a customer leave happily, after saying his polite good-bye's (We knew the look of happiness, when Melissa observed a guy light up a smoke with a look of content, as he left)
The RLD comprises of a series of architectural protoypes spread across both sides of the canal, within the urban pockets, juxtaposed with regular residential land-use. Each architectural prototype, appears on the facade as a door and a window, lined with red tube-lights, usually overlooking a narrow alley, that may at times be just wide enough to fit one average sized person. (There were times, when I was squeezing my way through and was jump-started at the sight of a woman peeping at me from within a sudden window, that appeared out of nowhere) In most cases, the prostitute, lives where she works (a home-office of sorts; that is usually 5 ft x 5 ft, fits in a bed, a wash-basin with a mirror and if large enough, a couch). In the RLD, ordinary life overlaps with business just as common people do with the prostitutes.
The red tube lights were an interesting element of the street-scape, as there were areas where, (and this may sound exaggerated, but it's true) one window of a house was red-light lined and the adjacent one was'nt. Of course, the architect's with the wild imagination that we were, we started off on various theories justifying the same. I began expounding on a make-believe scenario, where a bored housewife might just hang a red light outside her room window, to have some legal fun and make some extra bucks along with it; a light that can be easily retractable when her husband comes home. Alternatively, the husband, might just want to indulge at his neighbour's place and take a pit-stop next-door, before coming back home.
(As I was later informed, there is a festival, when every house hangs a red-lantern outside. I was beginning to like the spirit of this city.)
Humour aside, there was seriousness in this market-place. Prostitutes are considered victims of society and are legal tax-paying citizens. The Dutch are culturally, a highly tolerant society, towards what may seem conservative in most nations.
We walked into 'De Wallenwinkel' which was a 'Prostitutie Informatie Centrum'; a Prostitution Information Centre; that sold anything from books, pictures and information about the RLD, the prostitutes, their hygeine to guided tours of the RLD with a former sexworker, touristy souveneirs, erotic toys and edible underwear. And 'De Wallenwinkel' was situated next to a church, whose bells were audible far and wide. Nice!
A group of young girls, clad in shocking pink tights were receiving their first lesson, in conducting the tours. We walked through more streets and plazas of the RLD, trying to find newer windows with newer kinds of prostitutes, (Melissa and I wondered if there were any men on display someplace, other than the transvestites we had seen earlier). En route, we passed some SexShows and Live-Sex Theatres, that gave us a small promo of the rather elaborated show going on inside. For a reasonable rate of 5 Euros we could have watched Adult shows, live-sex shows and the likes, but we politely refused and moved on. The next stop was to be at the Canal by the Centraal Station for the much-talked about way to see Amsterdam, the Canal Tour.
The boat we were to take our tour in, finally left in what seemed like eternity and we were cruising across the inner canals and finally on River Amstel for the next one hour. While parts of the canal ride put us to sleep, other parts of it were really interesting, as we could see within the boat houses, that seemed to flank the peripheries of each canal. Cruising by in the 'Holland International', I could be spotted juggling my cameras at the sight of a humungous Foster project or an alternatively retro home-interior. I had read that the two best ways of seeing Amsterdam, are by a bike and by boat, and at the end of this canal ride, I was thrilled on having done atleast one of the two. As Felix Marti-Ibanez best describes it: 'In Amsterdam the water is the mistress and the land the vassal. Throughout the city there are as many canals and drawbridges as bracelets on a Gypsy's bronzed arms.'
The multiple canals that intertwined with each other and seemed to give birth to various bridges all along their expanse, was a phenomenon very different from my previous similar experience in Venice. While Amsterdam canals revealed modern architecture all along, including the bridges that spanned across them, Venice was all about traditionalism set in water or even across it. Amsterdam provides a mix of the old and the new; old Dutch houses flanked on either sides with modern buildings; antique-ish bicycles ringing by luxury, tiny European cars on the streets and traditionally crooked Dutch houses, with the slickest modern interiors. (Interesting Dutch house trivia: They are traditionally built leaning towards the street, giving them an overall crooked look. Each house has a hook on the facade, somewhere at the second floor height, which was used in olden days to draw furniture up, into the houses. Another reason for those huge windows.)
Amsterdam's openness bowled me over; I started off thinking this was the Las Vegas of Europe, but later chided myself for undermining the former's character by thinking so. There was thick culture here, just as is in all parts of Europe; which reflects a touch of modernism. Amsterdam's long history of liberal tolerance is displayed in it's open, unrestricting societal norms where the sacred and profane co-exist as good neighbours should.
A quick phone call from Chints had earlier established our dinner plans; Melissa and I were to cook at his place. So the canal ride was followed up by a brisk night walk by various Coffee-shops (I had been earlier instructed by Chints "If you want to have coffee Shweyta, go to a Cafe; if you want to have drugged coffee, walk into a Coffeeshop") to take a look at the RLD by night. An alternate Amsterdam was emerging in the dark; this city has dual character and it's sins come forth at night, in all their glory.
A few sin-shots later (Sahil was stealthily successful in getting a shot of a prostitute in her display-window) we were walking towards the Centraal station to catch our Intercity to Rotterdam.
Back in Rotterdam, a splendid dinner evening followed, with my spicy 'Chhole' (as per Chint's request), Melissa's tasty Chicken and Chintan's 'Jeera rice' and 'papad'.
My plan for tomorrow, initially, was to go back to explore Amsterdam on a bike. Chints put forward an alternative plan; for me to accompany him and his classmates to Brussels, where they were to see some exhibitions on Moscow and I could move about the city by myself. The temptation to travel and see another country in such a short trip, took over my initial reluctance to travel on a Schengen that was'nt multiple entry. But Chintan coaxed me into it and I was sold on the idea.
Now I was left with just one day, for 'doing' (Chint's mocks Americans' as they are always talking of 'doing' Europe) some more of Amsterdam and Rotterdam, before I left for India.