State of my Life

So, things are going pretty well in Amsterdam. I moved here from Utrecht ten days ago and it has been a good move. It was nice establishing myself and starting in a city like Utrecht, but now that its beyond the halfway point it is nice to be in a big city (though it is pretty small) like Amsterdam.

This past week, I have been busy focusing on my research. My adviser didn't really like my research proposal, so I'm trying to redefine my research question to make sure that the rest of my time here I am in the best position to complete my research and come out with a concrete thesis.

The weather has still been very gray and cloudy. It's no wonder why Dutch people are so rude sometimes; it's the weather! If I've realized anything yet, it's that I don't mind cold. I don't mind freezing cold, but I cannot stand the gray. I could never live somewhere where you could go a few weeks without a sign of the sun.

I have many updates to post, like Palestine and Istanbul... but those will have to wait. Stay tuned!

Finally back!

So I am finally going to be proactive about updating the blog. I apologize for taking so long. I will start going back to discuss travels and research over the past two months, but since that seems so overwhelming, I will focus on what has been going on the past few days!

I am now officially living in Amsterdam, in a nice little area a 10 minute bike ride downtown. And no, it is not overrun with drugs and prostitutes, that is just the touristy part of town :).

My research question is now more defined and I have been studying the role of international law in Dutch and American approaches to the final status issues in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, as well as how their approaches shape international law norms related to the issue.

Sunday, some of us went to Carnival in Den Bosch, which was awesome. Crazy Catholics. It is basically a bunch of people dressed up like its halloween with parades and a lot of people drinking.

My friend Morgan made an awesome "video-blog" so make sure to check it out and the footage and pictures in the end:

Sorry

With the horrific events going on in Gaza, I have not felt it fitting to update this blog. Hopefully things will calm down soon.

Je parle francais mais je ne comprend pas

So last weekend, I finally took a train up to Paris. I have wanted to visit Paris for as long as I remember. It was everything I expected it to be. Classy, pretty, fun, huge, and with great food. And man, was it expensive! I stayed at my friend's place which was really nice of him and it was a central location. I ate a ton of crepes, walked around all of downtown. Spent hours at a restaurant. Loved that the restaurant would never rush you or bring the bill since its culturally ok to sit for hours with no "wait list." Examined all the fly looking people walking the streets. Got off at random Metro stops and found a whole new "central" location. Spent an hour at the Louvre (and got in for free!) since it was a Sunday night and about to close. Explored Paris at night. Met up with old French friends. Explored the tourist-y sites with American friends. Explored the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. Walked down the Champs-Élysées. Did not buy anything at the ridiculously expensive stores. Got excited that there were not only white people in Paris. Ate french onion soup. Was underwhlemed by the Moulin Rouge. Instead of describing every moment of the trip, I'l let the pictures speak.

As Lonely Planet describes Paris:

Well informed, eloquent and oh-so-romantic, the ‘City of Light’ is a philosopher, a poet, a crooner. As it always has been, Paris is a million different things to a million different people. Paris has all but exhausted the superlatives that can reasonably be applied to any city.

Sinterklaas and Black Piet

The Christmas season is quite similar here as in the states, in the sense that money talks and its very much a consumer holiday. However, the whole "Santa" part is pretty different. For example: Santa is Sinterklaas, comes from Spain, arrived on a boat and transfers to a white horse. The kids get candy and gifts in their shoes if they leave one shoe out. People write poems with every gift from Sinterklaas (I even got a great one from Sinter!). Kruidnoten little ginger cookies are everywhere and the Christmas decorations are everywhere.

Of course the "foreigners" favorite and most uncomfotable part of this all is that Sinter arrives with around 6 Black helpers known as Black Piet or Peter.

Children are told that Black Pete enters the house through the chimney, which also explains his black face and hands, and would leave a bundle of sticks ("roe") or a small bag with salt in the shoe instead of candy when the child had been bad.

Children are also told that in the worst case they would be put in the gunny sack in which Black Pete carries the presents, and be taken back to Spain, where Sinterklaas is said to spend the rest of the year.

The less traditional explanations of "Black Piet":

During the Middle Ages, Zwarte Piet was apparently a name for the devil. Having triumphed over evil, it was said that on Saint Nicholas' eve, the devil was shackled and made his slave. Although the character of Black Piet later came to acquire racial connotations, his origins were in the devil figure. From about 1850, Piet was said to be an imported African servant of Saint Nicholas.

Of course the internationals, and especially the Americans, can't help but feel uncomfortable by all of the racial connotations. However, the Dutch believe that it isn't racist as much as it is tradition. A few years ago, they tried a rainbow colored Black Piet, but it was very unpopular.

My friend Erica sent me a funny article written from the point of view of a tourist, called "six to eight black men" by David Sedaris which I found really funny:

In the years before central heating, Dutch children would leave their shoes by the fireplace, the promise being that unless they planned to beat you, kick you, or stuff you into a sack, Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men would fill your clogs with presents. Aside from the threats of violence and kidnapping, it's not much different from hanging your stockings from the mantel. Now that so few people have a working fireplace, Dutch children are instructed to leave their shoes beside the radiator, furnace, or space heater. Saint Nicholas and the six to eight black men arrive on horses, which jump from the yard onto the roof. At this point, I guess, they either jump back down and use the door, or they stay put and vaporize through the pipes and electrical wires. Oscar wasn't too clear about the particulars, but, really, who can blame him? We have the same problem with our Santa. He's supposed to use the chimney, but if you don't have one, he still manages to come through. It's best not to think about it too hard.

While eight flying reindeer are a hard pill to swallow, our Christmas story remains relatively simple. Santa lives with his wife in a remote polar village and spends one night a year traveling around the world. If you're bad, he leaves you coal. If you're good and live in America, he'll give you just about anything you want. We tell our children to be good and send them off to bed, where they lie awake, anticipating their great bounty. A Dutch parent has a decidedly hairier story to relate, telling his children, "Listen, you might want to pack a few of your things together before you go to bed. The former bishop from Turkey will be coming along with six to eight black men. They might put some candy in your shoes, they might stuff you in a sack and take you to Spain, or they might just pretend to kick you. We don't know for sure, but we want you to be prepared.

Black Piet is everywhere. On shopwindows. Cakes shapes. And even two Black Piets gave me candy and a kiss at a train station:


Ahhh, the Netherlands.