Temple Bar Irish Pub - Amsterdam

This is entry 3 of 4 from Amsterdam, as with the last two, little has been changed in the posting of this. I wrote this entry while sitting at an Irish Pub near my hostel in Amsterdam.

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20 August 2010 'Evening'

I've been here for a while now, enjoying a rum & coke and enjoying the busy evening. The opposite of dining alone, being at bar alone gives you more one-on-one time with the bartender. Not shoved into the corner, but rather right in the middle of all the action. If you're lucky, as I currently am, you have the best view in the house: you can see the door, street, windows, tables and bar. As sad as it is to sit alone in a pub it isn't all bad. I quite enjoy the solitude of the moment, and the overly nice bartender always seems ready to send a smile to my lonely side of the bar. The time in Amsterdam has really flown by quickly, and I am rather proud that I was not in a coffee shop for the majority of this trip. And alcohol has been limited as well (although at this moment, I seem to be making up for that).

I've now switched locations now, however. Outside the bar, facing a canal having a cigarette and soaking in the clear summer evening. I have bicycles behind me, along with a million tourists and in front of me, 19th century (new by Amsterdam standards) and the canal. I'm watching busy people walking along the other side of the canal walking towards New Market, which is currently housing an orange and yellow circus tent, along with the 17th century (perhaps older) "weigh house." An interesting juxtaposition. I'm only a block or two from my hostel as well, so I think I will make it an early night. I'm trying to decide what to do with my last day in Amsterdam. I'll also have a few hours of my iAMsterdam pass to try and use. I think I've already gotten my money's worth out of it though: Van Gogh Museum, The Historical Art Museum (Rijks Museum), Our Lord in the Attic Museum, and the Amsterdam historical society. Not to mention the canal cruise and the public transit. But I am my father's daughter and I have to get everything I can out of the card. Let's face it, I'm a bit frugal. Except when it comes to food, and drinks. I like good food and drinks, so I'll go inexpensive, but not cheap. I do enjoy getting a good deal on food, but I also like good food. So sue me.

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This entry is a little... spotty. It was the end of the day and I was running low on energy and inspiration. But it has a little whimsy and a little bit of myself.

The final entry from Amsterdam will be coming shortly. For now I am off to Germany this weekend with my host mother's mother, Doris. I'll be bringing my journal and hope to have some more insights/ramblings for you in the coming week. Photos to my Amsterdam trip will also be posted soon, and I will include a link to the album here.

Best to all my readers,

Mattie

Thoughts on Dining Alone - From Amsterdam

The following post was written while in Amsterdam. It has not been changed much, except to fix some obvious spelling and grammar issues, otherwise it is as I wrote it on 20th August 2010 at "Dinnertime"

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I can't decide which is more embarrassing to do while dining alone in a big city: is it worse to read or journal? I couldn't decide so I pulled both out from my backpack. Let's start off by saying they don't make it easy on you (they = the restauranteurs, you = the single diner). More often than not you're pushed to the back of the floor. And then, to avoid putting your back to everyone else in the restaurant and face the kitchen (or even worse, a wall) you must sit and essentially watch everyone else eat (everyone else being in groups of 2 or more). Either way you, at the same time boarder on a live theater act, in which, at least once, everyone in the room realizes you are alone and then briefly stares as if expressing "sadness/empathy" or "total confusion."

Personally, I prefer the former ("sadness/empathy") much more because it means that that person, too has been there, alone and still eating.

It's the confused look which offends me. Because its those people who just can't believe it. Can't believe a person, a woman, sitting alone at a sit-down restaurant, pen & paper in her hand, sipping her diet coke and always making up an excuse to add more cheese to her pasta (for example: I can't see the cheese anymore, therefore there isn't enough!)

And whilst all this is happening you simply fade into your own world, where your personality (or personalities) can be out and open. Your writing just flows, your humor the only humor, your world what is real and for a brief moment, you are the center of attention. Pity or otherwise.

Yes, this all did spur from a reflection on sitting alone at the back of the restaurant, but there is much truth in these ramblings. You know, while everyone seems to have their eyes on me from time to time, it seems that I, also, spend a lot of time staring back. I analyze the crowd, all couples and groups of friends, about 15-20 or so in all. That might also include the floor staff who sort of blend in. I've spent a rather fascinating day, seeing the Anne Frank Haus and then the Amsterdam Historical Museum, which was massive and full of some amazing works and history but was terribly unorganized (along with its audioguide) and while I respect their decision to leave it out, there was actually NO signage making the "suggested path" visible or navigate-able. The art was amazing though, that pleased me. And I suppose made up for it.

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At some point I am sure I will elaborate this topic, since it is one I have come to know quite well. Perhaps I can write a series of articles or something about the experiences of eating alone, followed by tips on how to succeed.

Anyway, this is number 2 of 4 entries I wrote in Amsterdam. The third & fourth will follow soon.

My best to all my readers, feel free to comment or reflect.

Love,

Mattie

Anne Frank Haus

The following post was written on 20 August 2010 around 12:15pm in the café of the Anne Frank Haus in Amsterdam, Holland. There has been some editing for clarification and spelling, but mostly this is verbatim as I wrote it that afternoon.

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I am at this moment sober and full of emotion. As an inspiring writer, watching, listening and reading snippets of Anne's life is truly heart-wrenching and warming at the same time. I remember reading her diary in school but I had not remembered how moving it had been. Perhaps it is because I was younger, or perhaps it have something to do with the fact that since reading it, I have become somewhat more expressive in my own writing so that now, it actually means something. There is a lightness here, a vision that despite the horrid circumstances, still ended up satisfying a need of the human condition. Anne wanted to share her story, she was thoughtful with every syllable, every pen stroke.

Sometimes I wonder if it was in some way my own doing that my life seemed to take a wrong turn somewhere around my 13th birthday. Then I realize, Anne was 13 too. Why does that age, that number have so much influence in my life and in the lives of others? Is it simply my mind over-working things? Or does it have some further significance?

Anne Frank was a girl. I am not yet a woman (or at least, not 100%) but I am certainly no longer a child. She knew what she wanted, and tried to follow through, despite the tremendous hardships she encountered along the way. There is no way to compare her sacrifice to my misadventures, but I feel a deep connection to this girl. As if, we could have been friends, companions. I am fairly certain that since 1947 (when the diary was first published) and in over 70 languages - that I am not the first young(ish) person to say that. I am fairly certain that most people with a heart would find a common thread or two between Anne and themselves.

Life Sucks. Why such a gifted young person was snuffed out at such a young time I (and most others) will never understand. And yet, we have her diary, journals and notebooks. Her "blog" so-to-speak, written from behind closed doors, in a tiny room, in a space shared with 7 other people (who she really didn't get along with most of the time).

I doubt I will ever have her fame or success, but I don't want it. What makes Anne Frank special is that she changed the world (and still is). I don't plan on changing the world, but I hope that I can find purpose in writing. She was so mature by the time her family went into hiding. Reflecting on my own journals at that age they were self-indulgent rants and complaints which led to a few moments of true self-expression. (This isn't to say that she never had moments of adolescent pettiness, but in all she was mature). The majority of my writing is crap. And yet, I keep writing. I kept filling these notebooks until they were full and falling apart. If nothing else, they will exist for my children to read (when they're grown). But I feel as though when I got sick,, I suffered from what I will call (and I call it this without any evidence or without meaning to invoke rage or misunderstanding) "Anne Frank syndrome," which is to say that I wanted to be heard, in case the future never came. (Much as Anne decided that once she heard the government of Holland wanted 1st hand accounts of the war once it had been finished, she began to edit and focus on that being her mission within her writing). Anne didn't know what was coming to her, and for a long time, neither did I. And so there was some part of me that needed to write it down, share my story, just in case. I don't believe that was always (if ever) Anne's intentions, but she wrote, knowing the future was unknown.

Much of me wishes there was more. The 2nd act so-to-speak to her story. But perhaps this is why Anne has so much value to modern society. Perhaps it is because of the lack of act 2 that readers (at least in my case) and visitors (again, at least in my case) are propelled to write (and live) their own second act. She gave us the gift of our own ending. I hope others might find peace in her story. I hope I can find peace in my own 2nd act.

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There are a few more entries from Amsterdam which will be following shortly. Please feel free to comment if you have any thoughts on the above. Thanks for reading, as always.

Best,

Mattie

Updates coming!

Over the next few days, please note that I'll be blogging my journal entries from Amsterdam and hopefully a few new ramblings for good measure.

Forgive me for the delay. Photos will also be included. Love to all.

-Mattie

Family

There is something magical about being with family. We can do everything or nothing and still be happy just to be around each other. I am so wonderfully blessed to have a family that loves me and wants nothing more than to be with me. (Well, be with me and drink wine!) The last two weeks have been so incredibly amazing that I can honestly say with 100% certainty that I do not wish them to end. My family, as crazy as we are, is who I am. And I wish that I could stay here in Switzerland, while I finish my year of growing, discovering and finding myself with them by my side. But that horribly cheesy line "absence makes the heart grow fonder" is true. Being away from my parents, my brothers, my friends has made my love for them grow and change. Not only am I a new and different person, but so are they. And trying to find that middle-ground, those common things that brought us together in the first place. It's easier in the internet age, I can hardly imagine doing this journey in a time where my only communication would have been via phone (at outrageous costs) and letters. I like to write, but let's face it, I'm lazy. Not so much lazy, but I'm usually on my computer anyway so it just seems easier to sit and type something out while uploading photos, syncing my iphone or downloading a video. And I apologize for that. I should be more active in my writing, especially handwritten notes.

One of my friends whom I met while in Switzerland and has since returned to Vermont, will soon be starting her 4 year adventure at Norwich Military Academy and she will no longer be able to use Facebook (which isn't so sad) but also will only be allowed a brief amount of time to check email weekly. But she is such a beautiful, inspiring, young lady that I know I will do my best to continue to keep in touch with her, because I know she will always have something of importance or value to say.

My time with my parents is slowly coming to an end. They leave in just 3 days. I know I will be sad, but I also know that the more time we spend apart, the better my "homecoming" will be. I'll be home for Christmas, and that is a wonderful gift beyond measure. The hard thing that I know I will have to do when I visit home, is divide my time. It won't be easy and I certainly won't have enough time for everyone and everything I want to do, but I will do my best, to equally divide my wants and feelings of needs.

This blog sort of got forgotten, so please accept my apologies for the weirdness of which it ends I began it last week and then was distracted. My parents are in the air, on their way home and I am off to Amsterdam this evening. I will write when I'm back and life has settled itself into routine as normal.

Thanks for everyone's support, love and prayers. You are all truly family.