Spanish Rhythm

This is our first experience with the Spanish rhythm of living. I had read about Siesta in the guidebooks, but, wasn’t familiar with the details. Compared to Amsterdam, few people here speak fluent English, and it is hard for us to strike a conversation with them and get information. After observing the locals for a day, I asked the owner of Hostal Hill, a Japanese man from my hometown of Kyoto, about the inner workings of Siesta. Even after this detailed explanation in my native language, I still don’t have a full understanding of it.

According to the hotel owner, Spanish don’t necessarily take a nap during these few hours in the afternoon, but rather take their time eating a late lunch, and chatting with friends and neighbors before going back to work until around 6 or 7pm. Typically, they eat their last, small meal around 9:00pm before retiring for the evening. The Japanese hotel owner felt that this eating schedule wasn’t very healthy according to up-to-date nutritional knowledge.

Sunday morning, 2AM. The excitement of Saturday night is far from over. So many people were still on the streets. A family with a young girl, about 4-years-old, was enjoying their night out. The girl was wide-awake running around the sidewalk. As travelers here, we need to adjust to their rhythm.

We moved to an apartment near Estadi Camp Nou, the home of FC Barcelona. There are two different church bells that we can hear at this spot. Like any church in Europe, they let us know the time of day. Between these two bells, there is a lag of three to four minutes. I am warming up to this neighborhood with this lag, that I hear every hour. I would imagine, however, that there are no such lags in Switzerland where we plan to visit about a month from now.

Right across an alley from this apartment, construction of a building is going on. They start working around 8AM and, needless to say, we don’t need to set an alarm clock. Around 10AM, the noise quiets down for about a half an hour. During Siesta between 1PM and 4PM or so, nobody is at the construction site. The end of a day comes after a couple of hours after Siesta. When would this building be completed? In any case, I would say this is the pace of life for the people of this city. By the way, we also heard that there is no Siesta for the employees of American multinational corporations who have offices here.

The sun is definitely of the Mediterranean, really bright. We will spend next ten days in this city, hopefully in the sunshine.

Easy Entry

We arrived at Barcelona in the early evening on the 22nd of May, a delay of one day in our plans. We felt the difference in the air immediately. Higher humidity and, of course, warmer than Amsterdam. But the breeze in the evening was still a bit chilly for us.

We flew from Amsterdam on Easy Jet, a discount airline that serves the EU nations. They offer the simplest services and sell tickets only at their airport counters and on the web. Arriving in Barcelona meant we were entering Spain, but, to our amazement there were no customs checks, not our luggage or our passports. When we entered the Netherlands, at least they gave us a commemorative stamp on our passport. This time, there wasn’t even an opportunity for such stamp to prove that we actually arrived in Spain.

Perhaps this is no surprise to those who travel around Europe often, but it was an eye-opener to us, as we had not flown in Europe for several years. Just two months ago, Spain experienced a terrorist bombing in Madrid, so the easy-going nature of the airport security surprised us. It might be explained simply by the fact that our flight connected two EU nations, and that might be the actual reason. Or, is it because the new president withdrew the Spanish troops from Iraq and therefore there are fewer concerns? Still, we can’t help but wonder about it.

It was even a bit of a shock to realize that they are not checking incoming foreigners at the airport, only two months after the horrible incident in Madrid. Perhaps they do background checking on all passengers traveling inside the EU. The only times we actually showed our passports to anybody was at the check-in counter and the gate to the airline’s staff, not the government officials.

It seems that the friendly, open borders are an ideal relationship between closely located nations. Europe is definitely evolving. The way Holland and Spain view and handle "National Security" is completely different from that of the United States. That much is certain.

The fears that are marketed by the governments and the media of America and Japan manifest in the logistics at airports, including domestic flights. American citizens take off their belts and shoes, turn on their laptops and PDAs, and prove that they are not terrorists. They mostly keep quiet in doing so, but sometimes they do so proudly, probably out of their loyalties to the commander in chief.

So I must ask again, what are Spanish not afraid of?

Spring!

Spring has finally come to Amsterdam. On Saturday morning the town blossomed after what seemed to be a long winter. Our time in Arizona did nothing to prepare us for the gray, cold days we initially experienced here, making this weekend’s weather a welcome change.

Looking up we see the blue sky filled with round, puffy clouds mixed with the views of the tops of old buildings.

Along with the change in the weather, the behavior and fashion of the people also switched. The mostly vacated outdoor café tables we now full of people dressed in fresh pastel colors. The canals busy with small local boats hosting friends to wine and cheese, navigate the maze-like waterways. Facial expressions are relaxed and people show more smiles. On the top of everyone’s to-do list is to “soak up the sun.”

Vondelpark is one of the most familiar and important places for the citizens of Amsterdam. On Sunday, they began to arrive before noon to claim their spots, spreading blankets, baggettes, cheese, salami, wine, and fruit of all sorts. Their energies exploded into play with bicycles, inline skates, and of course, soccer balls.

There were so many people in the park late in the afternoon that the scene reminded me of Ohanami (outdoor cherry blossom parties in Japan) or a summer afternoon in Golden Gate Park.

The sky is still indigo blue at 9:30pm, and an occasional breeze feels a bit chilly. It was a day with surprising sharp sunrays and warmth. Even at days end the café windows remain open. The vertical silhouette of a cathedral, neighboring houses, the curve of bridges over the canals, and the orange glow of streetlights intermingle with the gradation of the late sunset. The color is gorgeous and the people move around my view. They move through the night unhurried, taking time to enjoy the warm evening. Their calm energy grounds me as I sat observing their movements.

The time one cannot exchange with money, the time when inspiration begins to flow, this is the time when time itself is art. Consciously or not, the people here know this.

The Kröller-Müller Museum

This was the second time we visited the Kröller-Müller Museum. The first time was in the fall of 1995, on a quiet but rainy day. At that time, we enjoyed mainly the indoor exhibit and only a small part of the garden that stretches out for about a mile. We decided to spend most of the time outside this time, as we had mostly-sunny weather.

The museum, located in the middle of the Hoge Veluwe National Park, has an outdoor sculpture garden that combines a forest on this flat land and artificial gardens. It occupies a surprisingly large area, but small enough to explore on foot, if you take time to do so. The sculptures and installation arts are fantastic.

While it’s fairly easy to find the sign stating the name of the piece, the artist and the creation year, some of the art was not so obvious to the eye.

You never know what will turn up in front of eyes. That makes it exciting to explore this garden. Sometimes a narrow path takes a visitor through bushes, just like hiking. Sculptures seem to be listening to all the birds in the forest and just waiting for visitors in odd places, such as on a branch of a tall tree, on the other side of a small hill, or in between the shades of trees. Walking through the Kröller-Müller sculpture garden is kind of like Easter egg hunting, and unexpected objects can suddenly appear in front of you at any time.

High school students on a class trip, and several tourist groups made the museum a busy place. Between the waves of people, there were moments when we could hear only birds with only the sculptures standing dark and shiny on the green lawn.

A Japanese man from one of the tour groups took out his watercolors and sketchbook and began to draw fast and furiously. The museum’s closing time and the departure of his bus were imminent. Though a bit rushed, he was in deep concentration to finish up his small painting. His wife was standing by him, looking vaguely toward the forest over the lawn. I sent him a message without sounds, “I hope just you and your wife can visit here again next time.”

On Keizersgracht

Before Tom took off to Taipei, he gave us the keys to his flat on Keizersgracht with full amenities including a high-speed wireless net access. He offered us to use his place for the rest of our stay. The location couldn’t be better. Three minutes walk to Leidse Plein bustling with both the locals and the tourists, and the building is facing a calm canal adding a distinctive local atmosphere. We moved here from Bed & Coffee and started to enjoy this new environment immediately.

Our lives in the San Francisco Bay Area are busy but actually quite simple. Or, should I say we live in different types of complications? Though we go out to see music quite often and we are active in socializing, the fact that we unconsciously fall into a limited set of routines and patterns cannot be helped, living in a middle-class suburb. I feel deeply about that when I travel to a completely different culture. Initially, I had foolishly thought that I could make note of the differences between the ways of living we encounter, and that of America or Japan. Now I run into a realization that my understanding of American and Japanese lifestyles itself is sadly limited. For example, an attempt to observe the way Dutch people spend their weekends would not have much reference points.

According to Tom, Dutch people spend Friday night and Saturday with friends, socializing and partying. Then Sunday, in general, is dedicated to spending time with their families, as we saw around the whole Ajax Amsterdam game day. Families also go out to dance and drink together at local clubs. Some clubs impose a couple of restrictions specifically on Sundays for this reason. Singles and those who do not speak fluent Dutch might not be admitted. In the States, this would be considered as a violation of the anti-discrimination law.

Amsterdam and The Netherlands are extremely open to outsiders. The whole town is flooded with foreigners and I simply don’t see any discrimination. In this cultural climate, I thought, it might be a challenge to preserve the native Dutch culture and race. It occurred to me that Dutch people’s attitude to set a day for its preservation might be manifesting in the way they spend their Sundays.

Cloudy days continue and the breeze is still chilly. But the water birds have built nests between anchored boats on the canals, and protecting their eggs or taking their chicks out to cruise.

An Amsterdam Weekend

What a weekend in this hopping city! Friday through Sunday just flew by like an arrow. The biggest joy for us was to see Tom Kee again after 6 years and have the whole weekend with him. He has launched a company, XWIRE, that creates an intelligent, fast and versatile WiFi router which is developed mainly by himself. He has been living here for 3 years, but now he is about to move back to the States.

There were two art exhibit events that we checked out during the weekend. On Saturday, we headed to West Amsterdam to the Kunstvlaai at Westergasfabrik, previously some kind of a water utility facility. There gathered “off the wall” local artists for a collective exhibit, consisting of a variation of innovative expressions to truly off the wall eye openers as well as crackups. An amazing thing was the big turnout of those who chose to spend a Saturday afternoon enjoying art. Old fashionable folks, young creative types, and families with baby strollers all seemed to be enjoying a peaceful time with art. Kind of like one summer day in Golden Gate Park or one of those San Francisco street festivals.

We got together with Tom for dinner and “walkabout” in a rather relaxing mode this evening, unlike our first night out on the town Friday that took us to jam-packed, smoky and extremely busy clubs like The Dolphins, Café Alto and Bull Dog, both just around the Leidse Plein neighborhood, with diverse nationalities of people whose languages that I could not even recognize. This evening (Saturday), Tom took us to an Indonesian restaurant, then to a couple of loungy clubs. Of course, the partying crowds started to move into those clubs as their first destination of the night, sometime around midnight.

On Sunday, we headed to Tom’s flat in the early afternoon. As we approached Leidse Plein, there was a horde of Ajax Amsterdam fans already starting the tailgate party for the day’s game. Several families were in the action as well, low-teen girls covering themselves with the Ajax flags with their mothers, or little boys with their fathers, both completely decked out in the team colors of red and white. Later we learned that it was definitely a game of significance --the Dutch Championship game. I captured the sounds of the crowd with my mic while walking through some tall-ass young dudes sucking on Heineken cans. The game was to start at 4PM. They had more than 2 hours of partying to do. The party would continue, as mighty Ajax won the game.

We set off to Kunst Rai with Tom and his friend Danielle, a cheerful Dutch photographer from just outside the city. The Kunst Rai is an annual main-stream art conference in a business-like convention center. The aforementioned Kunstvlaai mocked Kunst Rai for its stiff style, but speaking of off the wall, some of the artwork at Kunst Rai weren’t necessarily so different. Only the difference between the artists, besides those who are already well known and established, is whether they got luckily recognized by critics and galleries or not.

Arts everywhere. That’s what counts to us at the moment.

Tom started his trip to Taipei via Paris, by a bullet-train from Amsterdam the next morning at 4 AM. Good luck to you, Tom! And big thanks to everything you have done for us.

From Arizona to Amsterdam

It was definitely a good idea to stay with Lyn's family in Arizona prior to our departure. The stay provided a buffer between the hellish last two weeks of moving out of our house and the departure day. We could handle few last-minute chores and preparations with calmer minds and attitudes, thanks to Steve and Tracy who made us completely at home.

We enjoyed the scenery of the desert and the hills. They were gorgeously illuminated by the full moon, the night before we left the US. I did a little meditation under the moonlight. It definitely eased the tensions and nervousness for the beginning of this trip. Although I had expected an agonizing sleepless night, I fell right into a short but deep rest.
Tracy. Bless her heart. She took us to the airport at an extremely early morning hours and sent us off with loving hugs.

We reflected how calm we were at a coffee bar inside the airport. The calmness continued even during the flights. Is this the clam before the storm, or are we still exhausted, or maybe the new reality hasn't just sunk in yet? We would find out soon enough.

Our journey has started.

Amsterdam Streets

It was our plan that we would not do anything during the first few days in my beloved city of Amsterdam. After checking in at our hotel, Bed & Coffee, a budget hotel near Rijkmuseum and Van Gough Museum, we took a nap. It’s a great advantage of travelers with less pressure to cram in action-packed days. We enjoy the slow pace of streets along the canals without tourist attractions. We were too tired and spaced out to deal with bus-loads of tourists.

On those streets, and even on the main streets, we could easily observe that privately owned business - those pop-and-mom operated retails and such - are not only visible but also thriving. This is a vast difference from the sights of the gross American norm, uni-color corporate brand names across the board on any street corners, as we witnessed and grew weary of during our drive through California and Arizona. Just by walking along the streets of Amsterdam Centraal where individual businesses are busy with activities, accompanied by laughter around the shops, and presence of what appeared to me as real people, we eased into the pace and the atmosphere, with jet-lagged daze.

A bit of observations at Schiphol Airport. We knew that Netherlands would be welcoming, but we were amazed at the degree of openness the country showed us in the way we had never imagined. It took only 20 minutes or so, from the time we stepped out of the aircraft to when we got to the train ticket dispenser and wondered how we were going to get the train tickets to Amsterdam Central Station. No questions like “what are you here for?” Not even “how long is your stay?” We only said good morning to the officer at the customs and then submitted our passports. The officer did not forget to confirm that I am a resident alien in the States with a Japanese passport. Needless to say, nobody even gave a glance at our luggage.

What are the Dutch not afraid of?

Empty House, Full of Heart

Our house was empty in the morning of the day we drove out of San Francisco Bay Area. But our hearts were full of gratitude, excitement, sorrow and all kinds of mixed emotions.

For vacating our house, we had tremendous, tireless help from Dave and Monica, who spent three evenings of their time for helping us. We underestimated the amount of efforts to move out of our house, and their helping hands were hugely valuable. We also had young strong muscles of Kaya and Tashi from Santa Cruz, when we moved out all the furniture into the storage. We can’t thank them enough for their support.

After 10 years of living in our house, we accumulated so much, even though Lyn got rid of a lot on eBay and we thought we were conscious of living lightly. How much stuff do we really need to live? I got sick of looking at them as they were being stored away, and it actually felt good that we had this opportunity to think about it.

On the other hand, we really felt what is really important in our lives. Not just words. We felt it. Our family members and friends kept calling us with the kindest words. We are truly blessed to have them. It’s a kind of realization that we might confirm during this trip, but we experienced it even before we started.

We both had a mentally hard time with leaving Willow behind. Willow did sense and eventually realized that we were leaving to somewhere. She followed Lyn around within 3 feet during the last few hours at our beloved home. She knew.

We drove out of our neighborhood around noon. Arizona was far, we were exhausted, but we pressed on. It was about 2AM when we arrived at Steve and Tracy’s house at the foot of desert hills just north of Phoenix.

The moon was getting full.