Amsterdam Part III - Tomfoolery

When we arrived in Amsterdam, we picked up the usual smattering of tourist brochures and maps. One advertisement said the city’s biggest problem was public urination, and it warned not to partake in this cultural experience. And since much of the city does indeed smell like urine, we thought it was funny.

Monday night rolled around (our second night in Amsterdam), and we found ourselves in a small bar on the outskirts of the red-light district. This was just a straight-up pub – nothing “red light” about it – and the bartender was freakin’ awesome. I think his name was Rick, but that’s probably wrong so we’ll just pretend. We got there early, stayed ‘til it closed, and rocked out to sweet American music from the 70’s and 80’s the entire time. Lots of beer. Lots of new random “friends”. And even more fist pounds with Rick. Don’t ask.

Anyway, it was a great time, but the bar had to close at some point. I think we were kicked out around 3:00 or 3:30 AM, after which we slowly started to wind our way back to the hotel. That’s when things got interesting.

At one point on the way home, Tino and I turned around to find Jeff and Mark walking down a small alley in the wrong direction. It was a long way home, and we were walking slow, so we just figured they wanted to partake in the aforementioned Amsterdam tradition (after all, when in Rome…). So they’re down the alley peeing, and all of the sudden two guys on bikes (GOBs) go flying past Tino and I down the alley. Jeff and Mark are probably 40 meters away, so we can’t really hear what’s going on, but we see the GOBs surround them so they can’t walk away. We also see a third guy on foot, also not in a uniform, standing near them.

So Jeff and Mark finish their study in Amsterdam culture, and the GOBs herd them into a small, unmarked door – the only door in the entire alley. Now things are getting messed up. Two GOBs, who may or may not be cops, just surrounded our friends and took them into a seedy, unmarked door down a dark alley in the middle of the red-light district of Amsterdam.

Now, at this point I should say Tino and I were pretty confident these were police officers. It’s not like we just let two random thugs kidnap our friends. Another girl we were with thought she saw a uniform on the GOBs, and Jeff and Mark went willing into the door. It’s not like they were alarmed or anything. Nonetheless, we all thought it was pretty shady. So while Tino stood at the top of the street to wait and see if they appeared somewhere else, this other girl and I went down and pounded on the unmarked door. Eventually we were buzzed in and found ourselves in the holding room of the only freaking police station in the entire red-light district! I could hear Jeff and Mark talking on the other side of the door, and eventually some other cop told us they were being fined. About 20 minutes later, the two came out, each 75 euros poorer. oops.

Walking home, we got the whole story and a funny epilogue. Remember the third guy on foot standing around them as they were led into the police station? He was a drug dealer who offered to sell them cocaine while they were peeing. But he didn’t get fined or arrested. He just walked away. So Jeff and Mark pissed in an alley, something so many others do (albeit not on a police station), and got fined 75 euros and berated by the cops at 4 AM while the guy dealing cocaine just walked off looking for more customers. Go figure. Only in Amsterdam…

Anyway, good times.

Blog Apathy

As you have all noticed, blog posts are light these days. I am behind.

At the outset, I promised to make a concerted effort to maintain and publish as often as possible - ideally once per day - to keep in contact with everyone back home. A bored readership is a dwindling readership, and an empty blog cheats us both.

Of course, I can give you several reasons for my absence - my forced reintroduction to the vampire set (bars literally stay open "until the last person leaves"), my preoccupation with classes (ha!), or my preoccupation with other important writing projects (which would be valid if true, but I've been ignoring those, too) - but none of them excuse my slacking.

So, what to do? A new initiative: at least one quality blog post per non-travel day until I'm caught up on everything I want to say. With luck, I'll be all caught up in two weeks, despite an intervening five-day trip to Stockholm next weekend. Keep checking back.

I'll keep you "posted". Get it?? I'm such a dork.

Fuck Jurisprudence

No, I'm not angry at jurisprudence. Instead, I refer to Fuck, a working paper by Ohio State University Professor Christopher Fairman, which explores (in a convincingly scholarly manner) the history, use, and legal ramifications of the word "fuck" (note: I link to the article abstract, but you can download it for free from the same page). As with everything I post here, only read it if you're REALLY bored. But since you're on my blog in the first place, I can safely assume you are.

This is clearly not the first long, trivial article to which I've posted on my blog with the disclaimer that it's only for procrastinating law nerds. If you're wondering, yes, I am one such person. And sadly I do read all this crap. It's amazing I get anything productive done at all.

In other news, I have cravings for mashed potatoes and hot dogs, but not at the same time.

Unfortunately, I Do More than Just Travel

[My posts for the past several weeks have been almost exclusively travel-related, and while I suppose this dovetails with most of my readers' interests (all 2 of them - my mom and my brother), I like my little forum to be broader in scope. If I ever find the time (my classes these days are severely interfering with my travel schedule), I'll post more on random thoughts and musings in addition to travel stories. Along those lines, the following:]

Came across a solid op-ed in the Chicago Tribune by University of Chicago law prof Geof Stone entitled "What it means to be liberal", a label that has lacked definition for some time. I agree in principal with several of his propositions, though my faith in the power of free markets (and thus my libertarian bent) causes disagreement with a few others. Anyway, it's good reading (and very apropos to the current political climate) for those on either side of the aisle, but perhaps even more so for those who fear the stigma of the "liberal" label.

And, if you're really bored and have way too much time on your hands, check out the Daily Kos' dissertation "The Case for the Liberterian Democrat", and the Ilya Somin's excellent response over at Volokh Conspiracy. I agree with a few of the the Kos piece's underlying ideas if not the finer details. Somin, blogging for the (more conservative) libertarian VC, provides persuasive commentary.

On a Side Note...

North Korea now has nukes. Happy Columbus Day!

Amsterdam Part II – Daylight

Amsterdam is a study in dichotomy. Daytime is polarized from the city at night by more than the presence of light. The entire character changes. In day light, Amsterdam is a beautiful city.

With only one full day there, we had to prioritize our activities. There just wasn’t enough time to see everything I would have wanted. Instead, we settled on a visit to the Anne Frank House and museum, followed by a boat tour of the city’s canals in the afternoon. This meant we never made it to the Van Gogh and Rembrandt museums.

The Anne Frank House is very well done. Tourists are granted access to the entire hideout, all of which is preserved incredibly well. For instance, many of the magazine pictures Anne Frank pasted to the walls of her room as decoration are still hanging. I read her diaries a long time ago for school, but walking through each room of the annex quickly refreshed my memory. It’s a great experience, even if it’s not the easiest thing to get through, and it was my favorite part of the city.

Anne Frank Huis is the building to the right of the red and white awning with dark green trim. At first glance, it looks like any other building on the street.

Before we hopped on the boat tour, we did a little more walking. Amsterdam consists more or less of several concentric canals that surround an inland harbor. Because the city sits below sea level, a series of locks was built to prevent flooding. As the city expanded, its residents would simply build another, wider canal around the harbor, much like a tree adds a ring to its trunk as it grows outward. The locks prevent tidal changes in sea level, thereby making the canals very easy to navigate. Countless arched bridges make walking around even easier.

Once on the boat, I was able to snap better photos of the row houses. The buildings you see below are representative of pretty much all of the structures that line the canals. In addition, over 2,000 house boats are tied up along the canals. It’s really great architecture. I’ve definitely never been anywhere like it.

Amsterdam Part I - At Night

After the afternoon in Brussels, we caught an evening train to Amsterdam. We arrived without event – the trip took a little less than three hours via high speed train.

Once settled, we went out that night and walked around a bit. I think we found the only bar in all of Amsterdam that shows American football games, so we stopped in. If it sounds weird that we were vacationing in Amsterdam yet watching American sports on tv, bear in mind two facts: 1., I haven’t watched any television (sports or otherwise) since arriving here in August; and 2., I was traveling with three tried-and-true sports guys. Can’t go wrong. The game was horrendous – someone was getting blown out by somebody else – but it was still cool to catch a game. It might be the only football I watch until I return home just in time for the Super Bowl. But anyway, we left at halftime when the bartenders turned off the game for karaoke. Yeah.

Afterward, we strolled through the red-light district. It’s pretty much just like any other part of any other city, save for the sex shows, hookers in the windows, and cocaine dealers every thirty yards (just like Detroit… ZING!!) .

But honestly, it was just bizarre. First, you have these dudes all dressed up in suits trying to get you to watch live sex shows for the bargain price of E40. My favorite line: “Com’on… you’re not here for the windmills.” He must have a marketing degree. Rumor has it some of the shows have an “audience participation component”, but given my surprising aversion to things like the clap and genital warts, I somehow wasn’t interested.

Now, if prostitution can be done tastefully, Amsterdam hookers don’t know it (I bet you thought I was gonna say something different, didn’t you?). Basically, these girls rent out rooms and windows from a landlord in the red light district. Each window is lit around the frame by red neon or frosted-florescent lights. Behind it, the girls sit on stools in lingerie (or what passes for it). Some read, some do crosswords (probably the Monday editions… let’s be serious), some chat with fellow hookers, and still others give each other cutaneous injections of crack and heroine speedballs in their eyelids. And they just wait. All night. It gives a whole new meaning to “window shopping”.

Then, when some uptight, bottomed-out business exec from Kansas wants to forget about his wife, three kids, and dog named Wrigley, he knocks on the window of his choice , talks business with its tenant, heads in, and closes the curtain. He then pays to contract any number of STDs and severe emotional disorders (if he doesn’t have them already). And so the world’s oldest profession thrives. It’s all very wholesome.

But if, however, you aren’t a horny little bitch looking for sex shows and whores, fun can still be found from any of the 2,000 or so drug dealers who discreetly market their wares by asking you, in code only drug users might know, “want some cocaine? Ecstasy? Charlie?” Imagine the StreetWise vendors in Chicago but selling hard drugs, and that’s pretty much what you have there. Bear in mind, marijuana and hashish are sold legally, and the strong smell of weed wafts from every coffee shop. I’m pretty sure between the dealers in the red-light district and the coffee shops on every corner (kinda like Starbucks, but not), you can get pretty much any drug, any time you want it.

But aside from all that, it’s really a pleasant city at night.

One last note on the prostitutes: a reasonable capitalist might think that since their goods are their bodies (and the services they perform therewith), they might make some effort to offer the best goods possible. Much to the chagrin of men who like attractive women, this is not so. The red-light district is a veritable cornucopia of feminine flesh sharing but one common characteristic: they’re all freakin’ gross!

Traveling Part III

In Krakow 'til Monday. Post more when I get back.

First Monday in October

On a law dork note, today marks the start of the new Supreme Court term (OT 2006). This makes me happy. Stay tuned for some serious fireworks in the coming months as the new Roberts Court finds its footing.

Bruxelles

Another week, another trip. This time, however, I traveled with three good friends of mine from Chicago – Jeff, Mark, and Tino. Traveling with good friends is awesome.

Everyone arrived in Leuven on Saturday night after the three spent several hours in Paris where Mark’s bag was taken by some other guy on two separate occasions. Against all odds, he somehow got it back and saved himself the humiliation of having to wear all my awesome law school t-shirts for the rest of the trip.

We went out that night in Leuven and were joined by a few international friends of mine, two of which were the Russians – Elena and Ksenia. Though they both speak excellent English, they completely fail to comprehend American slang, so we took a good two hours trying to describe to them a few words we commonly use. I haven’t laughed that hard in awhile, and I’ll post more about it later. For now, just imagine trying to explain what a “douche bag” is and why we use it…

Sunday brought another cloudy day, and it saw us off to Brussels. As much as I hate to admit it, my “home town” isn’t much to see, though the Grand-Place (the city center) is surrounded by a few incredible gilded buildings. On one side of the square sits the Hotel de Ville, the only buidling to escape French bombardment in 1695 - ironic because it was the target.

On the left is the Hotel de Ville, Brussels' most recognizable structure.

In person, these buildings are beautiful. The guilded gold facades, barely visable here, set off the intricate architecture. I don't know who the hell takes the time to build these things.

Prior to my arrival here in August, I was told that Belgium is arguably Europe’s most eccentric country, filled with odd but quaint little stories and statues. Brussels does its best to uphold the reputation.

With this in mind, we headed over to the Manneken Pis, a statute not far from the Grand-Place. But this is no ordinary statute; rather, it is a small boy in a somewhat compromising position peeing atop a fountain. He’s not large – maybe two or three feet tall – but he’s definitely naked, definitely “anatomically correct”, definitely holding his junk, and definitely pissing.

I had to do a little research here, because I knew there had to be a story. Turns out, this little Manneken Pis was born on August 13th, 1619, when the city ordered a local sculptor to make a new bronze statute to replace an old and withered one. No one knows exactly why he’s there, but it’s thought that he is nothing more than a decoration atop a fountain where local peasants once filled their buckets with fresh water. Why they thought this was a good idea is anyone's guess, but it's pretty freakin' awesome.

Even more strange is that he is not the only pissing boy atop a fountain. Historians have found references to a similar statute that date to the 1400’s, and citizens of the Flemish city Geraardsbergen claim they possess the oldest peeing boy in Belgium (and for that matter, I hope the entire world). Apparently, the two towns feud over this issue, and Manneken Pis has been stolen at least once by a raucous clan of crazy Belgians. Some people really have way too much time on their hands…

Rumor has it Michael Jackson ordered a replica. OH SNAP!!

Anyway, you’ll notice that Manneken Pis has a costume on in my pictures. This is common. He actually has a wardrobe of over 600 costumes, each of which is stored and preserved in the King’s House or the City Museum. Daddy’s first new suit dates to May 1st, 1698. No, I’m not joking. These people take their pissing boys seriously!

On a side note, this is not the only odd statute I’ve encountered during my time here. I’ll have to say I’m warming up to this country quite fast. On the surface, everyone is calm and extremely reserved. But every now and then you get a glimpse of their quirky side that I really appreciate. I’m sure I’ll have more pictures of Belgian oddities in the future.

That about wraps up everything noteworthy of our stay in Brussels. It was cool to be with people who appreciated where we were. As Tino said sarcastically, “I’m not sure when I’ll be in Belgium again.” Good point. I’ve been traveling so much that I risk losing perspective here. I probably won’t visit many of these places again for a very, very long time.