An Underground World

To the average tourist, like me, the hustle and bustle of the French lifestyle can be overwhelming at first. Foot traffic is everywhere, and people whizz by speaking rapidly in foreign languages that are not easily distinguishable. Automobiles are not popular above ground, but in its place exists an entirely different world underground.

Below the congested city of Paris lies the metropolitan, a complicated bus system that can be navigated by maps consisting of lines of different colors that represent buses that take people to various places. Upon arriving to Paris, France on the fast speed train from Mets, we were immediately thrust into this crazy underground world. We went to the tourist information desk first thing and were told to take line 2 to line 4 and get off at Place de Clichy. To us, it sounded like the man was speaking a foreign language, ‘the metro language’, but to him he was simply trying to help us find our way to Hotel Darcet. The metropolitan existed as early as 1845, but the first line was not completed until July 1900. Since then the metro has become one of the main means of transportation in Paris and the various colored lines on maps are just a way of life for those that live in this beautiful city. In fact, this transportation system is seen as a model of efficient public transportation. The metropolitan consists of 14 lines, 300 stations, and over 3,500 cars. It is said that every building in Paris is within 500 meters of a metropolitan and from my experience this weekend this holds true. Our hotel was a mere two minute walk from the station and anywhere we needed to go we could get to via connecting metro trains. Sometimes, like in our trip to the Louvre, it was a one stop shot on Line 1, but other times, we had to take as many as 3 connecting buses to reach our final destination.
Upon jumping onto the train station for the first time, I found myself extremely overwhelmed. A few of the people I was with were instant naturals at navigating the various colored lines of the buses, while others just sat there helplessly waiting for others to figure it out for them. I found myself in the middle. Sometimes I was able to quickly decipher where we were headed and how we needed to get there and other times the environment around me was too overwhelming for me to concentrate. The underground atmosphere was filled with scents of body odor and old perfume that made my nose wrinkle, hundreds of people dashing from one line to another that moved faster than I could blink, and dirty railings that forced me to keep my hands in my pockets. To some, this underground world created natural boundaries that helped people easily get from one place to another. To me, it was an unknown confusing world that left me feeling less confident than my usual self.
After a few minutes of waiting, the horn blew and the metro came to a screeching stop. Instantaneously, herds of people started pouring in and out of the various sliding doors. People pushed and shoved to get to where they needed to be before the doors closed and as soon as they did I felt trapped. People were standing shoulder to shoulder on all sides of me and I could barely see my feet, let alone try and protect my belongings from being taken from me. This is the first time I realized how overpopulated Paris truly is. Since 2005, inequality in France has been evident, especially in Paris. The 11.7 million inhabitants form one of Europe’s largest metropolitan areas, but (http://www.thetransportpolitic.com/2010/01/19/paris-officials-push-huge-suburban-transit-investment-to-increase-metropolitan-mobility/) much of the population lives hours away from the city center via public transportation. This fact, along with many others, is one of the main reasons why so many people are forced to take public transportation and why the metropolitan world underground seems to be a territory of its own.

After our first time navigating the city alone we realized that the metropolitan in France truly can be considered a model of efficient public transportation. We were able to find our way the entire weekend without getting lost. Surprising, right? We thought so, too, but we learned quickly that as long as you know where you are, where you’re going, and how to read the map then travelling shouldn’t be hard. This is easier than it sounds. For our first trip, we decided that we would meet our friends at the Louvre at 10:00 sharp. To make this happen we decided to leave at 9:15 which gave us plenty of time to figure out where we were going without getting overwhelmed. To get there, we had to take line 1, which I learned after some research was the first line completed and has been called line 1 ever since. The line used to run from Porte de Vincennes to Porte Maillot but has since been extended to run from Château de Vincennes to La Défense, which is what we used it for on our first trip. (http://www.discoverfrance.net/France/Paris/Paris_metro.shtml ) .

After leaving Paris, I now feel confident about navigating the metropolitan world and would willingly accept the challenge to take on the fast paced, claustrophobic lifestyle that exists under the streets of France.

XXX-Amsterdam By Kimberly Mehan

On Thursday May 20, 2010, eight of us traveled from the Chateau to Amsterdam for our first weekend together. The excitement was indescribable. It was my first time ever traveling through Europe and I was headed to Amsterdam out of all places. I heard that if you plan your first weekend to Amsterdam, then you are setting the bar high for the rest of the weekends. If this is true, then the other weekends will keep getting better.
After traveling seven or so hours, Amy and I were very anxious to get off the train. All eight of us gathered together and followed the herd out of the station and into the city. When I first saw the city, I thought that this is like all other cities I have been to in the states. That initial thought did not stay true once we started walking to our hotel, which was located in the Red Light District. It was around 7:30 when we approached the area and a cloud of smoke filled the area around us. It was from all the cigarette and pot smoking that everyone was doing.
Everywhere I turned was a different bar and coffee shop that contributed to the reputation of the Red Light District. This area represents a part of Amsterdam because the people there are proud that they have something so well known. This area has been going on since the 14th Century when sailors would arrive for some female attention. This link gives tourists a heads up before walking into it without knowing much about it http://amsterdam-red-light-district.info/.
Searching for food was a bit of a struggle. Even though we were traveling in a bigger group and we had a difficult time deciding where to eat, there weren’t as many food places as expected. As we walked around, I realized that people wandering in the Red Light District aren’t interested in a sit down, traditional meal that you could find outside of the area. We ended up eating at a place that I thought was a step up from McDonalds. I don’t even remember the name because it wasn’t something that memorable.
I was a little overwhelmed at how the night was going to go, but as the night went on, I realized that this is considered normal. Around 10:00 pm is when I realized that the area was filling up a lot quicker with men in particular. In bars, coffee shops, or walking the streets, women are clearly the minority and some may feel a little unsafe at times. I traveled with three guys the whole trip, so I didn’t feel as uncomfortable as others may have felt. Walking down the alleys, I could see the red glowing light from far away and I prepared myself for it. When I walked by one window, one woman gave me the finger so I decided after that to just pay attention to what I was doing and not what they were doing. I was not used to walking down the street and seeing men walk in and out of the places. It was a very different scene but thought of as normal to others. In some ways, I think the Red Light District marks a certain territory of Amsterdam because it is a known area of drinking, smoking, and prostitutes.
Through my weekend travel in Amsterdam, I saw so much that I was able to relate to in class. It is important for each country to have something meaningful to them and even though I only discussed about the Red Light District, there are many other monuments and statues that represent nationalism throughout Amsterdam.

Amsterdam!

MONDAY, MAY 24, 2010

And it Begins: Amsterdam

Lets just say, we started off our first weekend in Europe with a bang. Traveling to Amsterdam surpassed my expectations in every possible way. I actually went into this weekend of travel with much apprehension and fear about what troubles we would encounter on our first trip away from our new home, Differdange. As I expected we were faced with some dilemmas such as finding our way around a new city, living in a below average hostel, and communicating in different languages. All of these put us out of our comfort zone, however they also gave us the opportunity to fully immerse ourselves in the culture of Amsterdam.

Unfortunately I do think that I came to Amsterdam with many preconceived notions about what the city and is people would be like. I had heard many stories from friends and family and was just so excited to experience it all on my own. I wanted to loose the judgment I had already created in my mind and travel with a clean slate to build on. So visiting the Red Light District on Friday was one of the more memorable moments for me. I can honestly say that I first walked through the Red Light District scared to death, and tried to stay as close to my friends as possible. However, I soon realized that the Red Light District really seemed safer than I had imagined because the streets were filled with tourists just like myself. Although I had no idea who any of these people are I felt comfort in the fact that I heard English being spoken down the streets and many people were wearing fanny packs and carrying cameras just like myself. This was my “imagined community”. All of these people, although we did not have a specific label that madde us a community, we shared an “imaginary” bond because we were all tourists in an unknown city.

Encountering the Red Light District made me further understand what Carl Sauer stated in 1925, “Culture is the agent, natural area the medium, and the cultural landscape the result.” The Red Light District was shaped and formed by the culture, the people and their beliefs, attitudes and values. As humans we have the ability to shape our landscapes, and the Red Light District was fashioned into a bounded area with many landscapes that reflect and reinforce their cultural systems. For example, as I walked down the streets, looked into the windows and saw women in lingerie posing and selling their bodies, part of Amsterdam’s culture was reinforced in my mind just as when every corner I turned there was a coffee shop with people of all ages smoking pot. This was a city where anything and everything seemed to be allowed. The many symbols we saw in the signs on the streets or the names of the bars communicated a message to us that The Red Light District is a city of sex, drugs, and sin. The fact that these women clearly are finding some success in the prostitution industry since the district continues to live on demonstrates to us the politics of the territory. However, it seemed to be bounded by the differing politics of the regions around it.

Something that both the Red Light District and the other areas of the city shared was the difficulty to label or find the definite territory of Amsterdam. As we spent the days walking around we noticed that the city and people were extremely international. There were several languages being spoken and several ethnicities of people being represented. Even in the windows of the Red Light District I remember commenting to my friend Annie, “Wow, these are all women of color.” We did not see one blonde European looking woman in a window, and that was somewhat surprising to us. So in a way I felt that Amsterdam was lacking nationalism. However, next on our list of sights to see was the IAMsterdam monument. This monument screamed nationalism. It stood as large red and white letters, which happen to be the colors of their very own city flag, in the center of a beautiful plaza. This monument along with the flag, which could be spotted all around the city, flaunted the pride that people felt for their city. As I stood looking at the letters I felt proud to be experiencing a city like this. Although many people come and just snap photos sitting on the letters that mean nothing to them, to the people of Amsterdam these letters mark their territory. Although it is a very international tourist location, Amsterdam embodies culture and homeland for several people.

It was once said that, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel only have read a page.” After my first weekend traveling I truly believe this quote. I have learned more in the last three days than I have ever learned from any school course. By engrossing myself in the culture of Amsterdam I feel I have really opened a new page in this astonishing world book.

Hotel, Motel, Anne Marie

Amsterdam

I have never had many apprehensions about traveling. I enjoy trying new food, meeting new people, and even find getting lost to be exciting (to a certain extent). But, I encountered a new unease when the search for hostels was a necessary step in planning our weekend travels. I knew Amsterdam was going to be an entirely new adventure for many reasons: my friends and I planned every last detail including train times, food, living arrangements, and site seeing; the easy-going, everything and anything is legal lifestyle; language barriers; and even geographical landscaping- all of which I was ready and excited to witness and experience, all except the hostel.

Kelsey, Jenna, Kristina, a few new friends, and I all sat around our laptops for several days discussing and researching potential weekend living arrangements. “This one is only fifteen euros a night”, “This is thirty minutes from the Van Gogh museum”, “Free linen! Free breakfast!”, all were great candidates, but because we were a bunch of girls traveling together, we wanted to ensure safety first. Finally, we chose to book the Anne Marie Hotel (which was really a hostel) because it had one of the higher safety ratings (68% is now considered high) and it was a decent location. So now this task was over, and I had three full days to stew on my thoughts and create what I hoped to be preposterous situations in my head.

After two days of anticipation, and seven hours of traveling, we arrived at the Anne Marie Hotel (but again, don’t let ‘hotel’ fool you). Upon entering the small building across from the Chinese restaurant and next door to the super market, I immediately felt out of my element. The Dutch man sitting behind the counter was less than pleased with our large group of giggling nervous girls, and the three 45-year old men sitting at the old wooden table to our left would not stop staring. To our surprise we were given a mixed ten-person room for the eight of us girls. Visions of creepy, drugged out men came flying through my head. After climbing two flights of extremely narrow teal painted stairs, we entered the room to find five sets of bunk beds with blue and green comforters, huge red curtains, and brown carpet. It was quite the combination. Also, two of the beds were claimed, and the possessions clearly belonged to men. Thankfully we were all so hungry that we didn’t stay in our room too long or else I think my curiosity would have lead me to investigate these mens’ things.

Several hours passed of eating a fast food Chinese dinner and exploring Amsterdam and we were ready to head back to Anne Marie. My friends are surprisingly have a knack for finding their way through foreign cities, so we didn’t encounter any problems with the 250 bridges Amsterdam has to offer, or the fact that we were illiterate due to the Dutch street names. We rang the doorbell to be let into the hostel (one of the more attractive features of our living situation) and the same unfriendly Dutch man answered the door. Once we got to our room I was both relieved and even more concerned that the two men (or boys?) weren’t back yet. To me this meant that they were out taking full advantage of Amsterdam’s culture. I was on the bottom bunk closest to the door and was laying on top of the comforter in hopes to avoid any potential bugs or diseases, this left me completely vulnerable to the two crazed men that were going to be home any moment. “Kristina, can I please sleep with you?” thank goodness for friends. I relocated to a different bottom bunk, slightly closer to the unknown men, but further from the door.

Needless to say I didn’t sleep a wink until our roommates got home. Not only because I was paranoid of the possible situations that may occur, but also because of how cramped and hot I was sharing a twin bed with my snoring friend. At 3:12 (yes, I looked at the clock) the long awaited roommates opened the door to our room, room seven. They turned on all of the lights and were stumbling around the room; I was literally holding my breath. The first words out of the guy’s mouth were “God, I love Miami”. I could see each boy plain as day, clearly American, and the taller boy’s t-shirt said “Miami Redhawks”. That was all I needed to see, I had never seen these boys before, and had no idea what their names were; but they are Miami students, so they must be safe, right? My weekend in Amsterdam and three nights in a hostel confirmed that it is not really the hostels that concern me, but the apprehension of what I perceive to be unknown. If it weren’t for the boy’s outspoken love of Miami or the other boy’s Tshirt, I wouldn’t have been capable of sleeping. But because these two were in my imagined community, I felt safe. This weekend taught me more than I expected about not only a foreign culture, but also the comfort of what I perceive to be my own.

Amsterdam Free Tours

A Wandering Journey completes my Check-List

As soon as I stepped foot into Amsterdam for the first time, I could not wait to experience the Red Light District, the Van Gogh Museum, the Heineken Brewery, and everything else the city is famously known for. I viewed these popular attractions that are visited by thousands of tourists every year as a check-list or a to-do-list of what I wanted to accomplish in Amsterdam so that I can say I really experienced the city. However, little did I know that I would actually “truly” experience the city on a Friday afternoon when my friends and I wandered around the city for almost two and a half hours trying to rendezvous with other Miami students at The Grasshopper, a rather large coffee shop that consists of a disco bar, café, and coffee shop on three separate floors. For more information on The Grasshopper go to www.thegrasshopper.nl/

After my friends and I ate lunch at one of the local donor kebab restaurants in order to save money for the weekend’s festivities, we began our long and winding adventure to The Grasshopper. With our stomach’s full and our well-rested legs, we headed towards the direction of the Grasshopper not knowing exactly how to get there and having only a slight idea of its location. This is when I finally began to see the true landscape, lifestyle, architecture, and means of transportation in the great city of Amsterdam.

When we took to the streets right outside the center of the city, I found streets bustling with cars, bikes, trams, buses, people walking, and mopeds whizzing by. I became really intrigued by the organized chaos of the public transportation in Amsterdam. The further you walk away from the city, the wider the streets are and the more accessible the streets are for cars. Closer to the center of the city, the “streets” were usually nothing more than a narrow sidewalk and bike path that lined all of the hundreds of canals that ran through the city. Every time I stepped off the sidewalk or tried to cross the street, I was abruptly warned by a ringing bell that came from the handbrake of a biker passing by. A tall, middle-aged man wearing jeans and a black long sleeved shirt muttered something to me in Dutch as I walked along one of the bike paths and almost got hit by a collection of bikers. I thought to myself, “Wow do I look like an American.”

However, as we continued on our journey, I learned to keep my eyes peeled for bikes, trams, buses, and cars that were always passing by and almost began to feel that I was beginning to understand the logistics of the transportation system in Amsterdam. I realized that every mode of transportation has its own territory and other people that don’t belong to that territory should not impede on it. As for my case when I was walking along the bike path and almost got hit, I should have realized that this is not my territory. Although this is only a small scale example of territory and how it works, large scale boundaries and territories work in a very similar way.

Nearer the center of the city, coffee shops lined every street and gave a distinct smell of marijuana as we walked past them. They were packed neatly and tightly in between hostels of low to medium quality, bars packed with locals and tourists from all around the world, and restaurants that consisted of all types of cuisine that cater to whatever your craving may be. Everywhere I turned I found a new alleyway, a new canal that I had not previously seen, a new square that I never knew existed, or an architectural wonder straight out of a magazine. After finally arriving at our destination, the friends we were planning to meet up with already left for other plans because our journey lasted so long. Even though we had been hopelessly wandering around the city for the past couple hours and had walked all over the city to find The Grasshopper, I realized that I had just seen and experienced much of what Amsterdam has to offer. I felt as though I was really able to get a good feeling of what the city was like by walking up and down along the canals and streets of Amsterdam. Prior to this endeavor of ours, we didn’t get to take a long walk around the city and we hadn’t taken a canal tour or rented a bike in order to see the beautiful city. Now since I took such a long walk through almost every major part of the city and got to take everything in first hand as I walked along the streets, I felt as though I had accomplished something even though I hadn’t yet been to the Van Gogh Museum, Heineken Brewery, and other major attractions of Amsterdam. I felt as though my check-list was complete.

Museumplein

 The first tourist attraction that my friends and I stumbled upon on our weekend trip to Amsterdam was the Museumplein, also known as the heart of the museum quarter. It is a pleasant region in Amsterdam that is separate from the stereotypical drugs and prostitution scene that many people associate all of Amsterdam with. After being overwhelmed by all of the people, sites, and fun activities in the park, we ventured in to see the Van Gogh Museum, the Ravensbruck Memorial, and the famous “I Amsterdam” letters, a few of the many historical figures that represent Amsterdam.

            The Van Gogh Museum was our first stop of the day. The museum houses the most Van Gogh paintings in the world and is something that Amsterdam is very proud to represent. While touring through the museum with our headsets, I not only captured a sense of history and appreciation for the artwork, but I also recognized the different nationalities of the people touring the Van Gogh Museum. There were many people from all over Europe at the museum to view Van Gogh’s work along with other significant 19^th century artwork. The headsets that we purchased were available in multiple languages to accommodate the many different tourists.  This showed Amsterdam’s pride in sharing their artifacts and history that is popularly known all around the world.

            After spending time at the Van Gogh Museum, my friends and I headed over to the Ravensbruck Memorial. It consisted of stainless-steel panels surrounding a tall cylinder shaped statue. This memorial was significant because it was dedicated to the women that were held Prisoner in the Ravensbruck Nazi concentration camp during World War II. This monument is a great example of Amsterdam’s nationalism. Because Jews made up ten percent of Amsterdam’s population before World War II, it is important to the city to remember and honor the Jewish people that were tragically killed.

            Finally our last stop in Museumplein for the morning was the well-known “I Amsterdam” giant letters. It was crucial that my group of traveling friends and I got our picture taken in front of the letters so that we could have photo-documentation of our trip to Amsterdam, just like all of the other foreigners. The “I Amsterdam” logo is not only letters. It is the symbolization of Amsterdam as a European melting pot. Minority groups primarily populate Amsterdam and therefore, the phrase “I Amsterdam” is devoted to all of the different ethnic groups of people and cultures that cultivate into one. I also found it interesting that the letters are written in the English language. This displays Amsterdam’s pride in them because it is written in a language that is commonly understood by people from all over the world, indicating their efforts for people to recognize the meaning. Amsterdam’s strong belief in a culture with freedom to be who you are ultimately symbolizes their unity among differences.

            After a long morning of viewing historical and symbolic sites in Amsterdam, my friends and I sat down for lunch at the edge of the Museumplein to take it all in. The different languages spoken, ethnic differences, and historical figures represented Amsterdam as a state, yet containing many different nations (ethnic groups) within its borders. Overall, I saw that Amsterdam had a lot of pride regarding its history and current multi-cultural way of life.