It's somewhere between May 3rd and May 4th for me, and I'm on a plane - I'll post this once I'm on the ground somewhere. There's this lovely tradition I seem to have of not being able to leave a country without being either very, very tired and/or feeling a twinge of regret for how much I had to drink the night before. I can't just can't seem to travel after a good night of sleep, a clear head, and a full stomach.
So that's how I'm saying goodbye to the US. Tired, hungry, and still putting together all the pieces of the previous evening (which happened to be the wedding of one of my best friends!), which ended around 4.30am. I was in the US for about 17 days, and it felt like a very long time in a very good way. I stopped thinking about work after the first few days. I slept late, I had long lunches and dinners with friends, I had some nice weather, I saw the mountains, I played with dogs and babies. I got really used to being home (well, one of my homes) and hanging out with friends I've known for most of my life. As I ran around New York and Philadelphia I kept passing by places I used to live. How many places can feel so familiar, so that you don't have to look at maps, you know the postal code, you run into people you know without trying? They add up after a while. After I drove by Former Apartment Number 7, I almost felt exhausted.
Whenever I was asked the question "So, are you happy in Amsterdam, do you feel like you could stay?" My answer was always "Yes." And then, if the person was a pretty good friend, I would go on to explain myself by saying that, for the first time in my life, I'm not planning the Next Big Thing. I can't promise I'll stay in Amsterdam forever (I would never make such a claim), but there has never been a time in my life when I wasn't daydreaming about the next place I would live or the next big adventure in my life. Of course I still want to travel and make documentaries and hitchhike through Australia and walk around the Nepalese mountains. None of that has changed. But there's no big change actually being planned, there's nothing I'm saving up for, I'm just... happy and content. There's no better evidence of that then the fact that I do not have a new master plan. Anyone who is reasonably close to me would hear this explanation and then respond "Wow," because I've never said something like that before.
I had the "is the economic crisis hitting Amsterdam the way it's hitting here?" conversation constantly. TV ads, billboards, subway posters, magazine covers - everything there was about the economy (or swine flu). Sometimes the ads were funny, like the subway poster that was advertising a car service where you can use a car for a few hours at a time (like Greenwheels in Amsterdam). "Owning your own car is so pre-recession" was the tagline. But there were also way more serious things going on, the same horrible first-hand stories about not having access to health care or having to pay too much to see a doctor. It seemed like every other commercial I heard on the radio or TV was about the crisis in some way. It was intense. It was something everyone had an opinion about.
Of course I missed my bicycle a lot and I kept feeling slightly hindered by the fact that I didn't have a bike to use. I noticed huge improvements in the way New York City is promoting cycling. It's one of those things that, yeah, sure, there was always "share the road" signs (with a picture of a car and bicycle) hanging around the city, but this time there was an actual difference that I could see - more bike lanes. It's still not enough, it's still been a long time coming, but I was delighted to see the freshly painted bike lanes on the roads and way more street signs up specifically for cyclists. A friend of mine told me that the number of cyclists going over the Williamsburg bridge (which connects part of Brooklyn to Manhattan, and is the bridge I used to ride over) has increased by something like 200% in the past year!
Even though my vacation did feel long and allowed me some very leisurely days, I also ran around a lot. Lots of buses, trains, cars, and subways. I slept in a bunch of different places so I was usually lugging around a lot of stuff with me at all times. This is the nicest part about going home to Amsterdam... just being in my own apartment with access to a washing machine whenever I want one, being able to have coffee exactly the way I like it, sleeping in my own bed, and of course, watching the sun set from my balcony. I'm curious to see what the rest of the spring and summer brings. I have some interesting plans on the horizon, a few trips being planned, and some big changes ahead, but first things first: let's just get my job contract renewed. Once that's taken care of, or the paperwork is in place to start getting that taken care of (basically, once I'm assured that I will have a job after 9 June), I'll breath a sigh of relief and start thinking about everything else.
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
May 4, 2009
April 27, 2009
Another American Expat in America
Finally! After a cold and rainy week, the weather in New York has gone from winter to summer overnight, and I spent the past couple days in shorts, dresses, and even bought a new pair of sunglasses - for $5 on Broadway in SoHo. Sunglasses should always cost $5, always be purchased on the street. That's just the way it is. I've probably bought 15 pairs of sunglasses from the same guy at this point.
This past saturday morning in Brooklyn I walked though my old neighborhood to meet a friend for breakfast (iced coffee and bagels!), and it seemed like every single person in the entire neighborhood was outside. There were the groups of big, fat, tough guys, drinking beer out of paper bags and listening to rap blasting out of their illegally parked car. One block away, there was a group of skinny teenage boys, yelling at each other as they listened to Spanish music blasting out of their illegally parked car. Old women sat on their front porches, bicycles of all shapes and sizes were zooming down the street, every single cafe had their doors and windows wide open and outside seating was full. Summer in Brooklyn had begun, which is an odd thing to say in late April.
When I was done with breakfast, I took the subway to Grand Central Station (I was headed to my hometown in upstate New York, about 2 hours from the city). When I transferred at Union Square to head uptown, I picked up my suitcase to carry it up the 3 flights of stairs. A guy walking behind me said "here, let me help you with that." My reaction as a New Yorker was to think immediately, "why is this stranger talking to me, what does he want, and no way am I letting him touch my bag which has my computer in it." My 2-second delayed reaction as a ... person who tries to trust that there is good in this world is what came out instead. "Thank you! That's so nice!" I said.
The guy didn't want anything. He was just being nice. Maybe he knew he could get up the stairs 3 seconds faster if he carried my suitcase, and that's why he offered. Either way, I said thank you again when we got to the top of the stairs. He said no problem. And I was on my way. When people in Europe ask me about New Yorkers and I talk about how nice they are, this is the kind of thing I'm talking about.
While I waited for the 4/5 express train, I stood next to a dad with his 7-year-old looking son. Me and the dad must have both spotted the rat (that's a big, gross, rat, not a cute little mouse) running around in the subway tracks at the same time. I looked at it with a bit of disgust, but the dad said to his son "hey, look!" The kid got really excited. "Oh cool! Look at the rat jump! Come on, rat, jump over that puddle. Dad, what if the rat can't make it over the puddle?" "Don't worry, that rat is having a great time, he's happy." "Look dad, there he goes! Cool!"
When the train came, I pushed my way on with hundreds of other people and went to the Grand Central. The ride upstate was lovely - there's really nothing better than staring out a train window and looking at a river with mountains in the background.
Since I've been away from the states for a year, it's hard to properly catch up with everyone. Sometimes it seems like this trip is flying by, other times the days feel long and slow. I don't really feel any significant culture shock, but there are little things here and there. 1 parking spot in NY could easily be 2 parking spots in Amsterdam - two parking spots with room for a scooter and 5 bikes, actually. I hate how everyone here gives me 10 napkins and a plastic bag if I order a sandwich. I've never had to ask someone in Amsterdam to please not give me a bag and insist that I can eat a sandwich without the help of 10 napkins.
I love that there are ATM machines everywhere (Amsterdam has an unbelievable shortages of those). I love disco fries, mexican food, the availability of perfect avocados, a never-ending supply of amazing pizza and I love seeing all the new bike lanes in the city. I even spotted 2 people on one bike - in lower Manhattan! It was definitely a mom and a child, the child sitting on the bar between the seat and the handlebars. I do keep thinking I'm accidentally walking in a bike lane when I'm on the sidewalk, and I haven't stopped looking both ways to cross the street, even though most of NYC has one-way streets.
Now while everyone else gets ready to go to work on Monday morning, I'm back to taking trains and subways and visiting family and friends. Not a bad way to start the week. Vacation, week two: begins now!
This past saturday morning in Brooklyn I walked though my old neighborhood to meet a friend for breakfast (iced coffee and bagels!), and it seemed like every single person in the entire neighborhood was outside. There were the groups of big, fat, tough guys, drinking beer out of paper bags and listening to rap blasting out of their illegally parked car. One block away, there was a group of skinny teenage boys, yelling at each other as they listened to Spanish music blasting out of their illegally parked car. Old women sat on their front porches, bicycles of all shapes and sizes were zooming down the street, every single cafe had their doors and windows wide open and outside seating was full. Summer in Brooklyn had begun, which is an odd thing to say in late April.
When I was done with breakfast, I took the subway to Grand Central Station (I was headed to my hometown in upstate New York, about 2 hours from the city). When I transferred at Union Square to head uptown, I picked up my suitcase to carry it up the 3 flights of stairs. A guy walking behind me said "here, let me help you with that." My reaction as a New Yorker was to think immediately, "why is this stranger talking to me, what does he want, and no way am I letting him touch my bag which has my computer in it." My 2-second delayed reaction as a ... person who tries to trust that there is good in this world is what came out instead. "Thank you! That's so nice!" I said.
The guy didn't want anything. He was just being nice. Maybe he knew he could get up the stairs 3 seconds faster if he carried my suitcase, and that's why he offered. Either way, I said thank you again when we got to the top of the stairs. He said no problem. And I was on my way. When people in Europe ask me about New Yorkers and I talk about how nice they are, this is the kind of thing I'm talking about.
While I waited for the 4/5 express train, I stood next to a dad with his 7-year-old looking son. Me and the dad must have both spotted the rat (that's a big, gross, rat, not a cute little mouse) running around in the subway tracks at the same time. I looked at it with a bit of disgust, but the dad said to his son "hey, look!" The kid got really excited. "Oh cool! Look at the rat jump! Come on, rat, jump over that puddle. Dad, what if the rat can't make it over the puddle?" "Don't worry, that rat is having a great time, he's happy." "Look dad, there he goes! Cool!"
When the train came, I pushed my way on with hundreds of other people and went to the Grand Central. The ride upstate was lovely - there's really nothing better than staring out a train window and looking at a river with mountains in the background.
Since I've been away from the states for a year, it's hard to properly catch up with everyone. Sometimes it seems like this trip is flying by, other times the days feel long and slow. I don't really feel any significant culture shock, but there are little things here and there. 1 parking spot in NY could easily be 2 parking spots in Amsterdam - two parking spots with room for a scooter and 5 bikes, actually. I hate how everyone here gives me 10 napkins and a plastic bag if I order a sandwich. I've never had to ask someone in Amsterdam to please not give me a bag and insist that I can eat a sandwich without the help of 10 napkins.
I love that there are ATM machines everywhere (Amsterdam has an unbelievable shortages of those). I love disco fries, mexican food, the availability of perfect avocados, a never-ending supply of amazing pizza and I love seeing all the new bike lanes in the city. I even spotted 2 people on one bike - in lower Manhattan! It was definitely a mom and a child, the child sitting on the bar between the seat and the handlebars. I do keep thinking I'm accidentally walking in a bike lane when I'm on the sidewalk, and I haven't stopped looking both ways to cross the street, even though most of NYC has one-way streets.
Now while everyone else gets ready to go to work on Monday morning, I'm back to taking trains and subways and visiting family and friends. Not a bad way to start the week. Vacation, week two: begins now!
April 24, 2009
One year in Amsterdam
It's April 23rd 2009 (or at least it is to me, as I type this), which marks exactly one year since I've been living in Amsterdam. I know, I know, I haven't updated this blog in a really long time. I meant to write about a million things - the opera, visiting a windmill in Haarlem, how it felt when the sun started to set at 9pm, the trip to Paris, the new/temporary Van Gogh exhibit, and so on.
But that's all in the past now, and while I do wish I wrote about it so I could look back and remember, I'll probably never really forget my first opera experience in Amsterdam anyway. So here I am, in New York City. In Brooklyn, to be precise, resting comfortably at the home of some friends in Williamsburg. Whenever I stand on the street here at night and admire the view of the bridge with the Chrysler building in the background, it only takes about 20 seconds before a taxi slows down and beeps at me. No, taxi guy, I don't want a ride. I'm actually just standing here admiring the view, and yes, I realize I'm not in a touristy neighborhood and most people here don't do this, but I'm actually quite content.
It's insane to think that it's been a year since I've been in New York. I'm just here to visit this time around, and when I stepped off the plane, it felt like I had been gone for about 5 minutes. This is an important fact because I had slept about 5 minutes in the entire week leading up to coming to New York, and being able to arrive here without thinking - with knowing exactly how to get to where I was going - it was wonderful.
So my 1-year anniversary of living in Amsterdam is being celebrated in New York City. But I thought about Amsterdam a lot today, about how much I still completely love that city. I love my apartment, my job, my bike, the lifestyle, the sunsets, everything. But the reason I feel that Amsterdam is my home is because of the people I've met. When I arrived in Amsterdam I was totally alone. I was hungover, actually, having just taken the train from Paris with 2 giant suitcases. In some ways, I think this was an advantage - I was too tired to fully understand that I just showed up in a new city where I didn't know anyone, where I didn't have a job, and I had no idea how to actually fill my days.
I got to know people. I looked for a job. I freaked out, many times... MANY times about my decision. The day before I accepted the job offer, I went over every mistake I had ever made in thinking that living in Amsterdam was a good idea. Every person who told me that it was a bad idea, or stupid, or impossible, or if they gave me that look of "oh, so you're another one of those non-EU people who think they can just up and move to Amsterdam, that's so... cute," these people all affected me.
But it turns out I was right the whole time, and I love being right. Amsterdam is the city for me. It's home. I love it there. So all those freakouts, all that stress, all that uncertainty, it was all worth it.
I'm home here in Brooklyn, but when I go back to Amsterdam, I'll also be going home. How lucky am I, that I get to have more than one home?
Amazing.
Happy one-year anniversary to me!
But that's all in the past now, and while I do wish I wrote about it so I could look back and remember, I'll probably never really forget my first opera experience in Amsterdam anyway. So here I am, in New York City. In Brooklyn, to be precise, resting comfortably at the home of some friends in Williamsburg. Whenever I stand on the street here at night and admire the view of the bridge with the Chrysler building in the background, it only takes about 20 seconds before a taxi slows down and beeps at me. No, taxi guy, I don't want a ride. I'm actually just standing here admiring the view, and yes, I realize I'm not in a touristy neighborhood and most people here don't do this, but I'm actually quite content.
It's insane to think that it's been a year since I've been in New York. I'm just here to visit this time around, and when I stepped off the plane, it felt like I had been gone for about 5 minutes. This is an important fact because I had slept about 5 minutes in the entire week leading up to coming to New York, and being able to arrive here without thinking - with knowing exactly how to get to where I was going - it was wonderful.
So my 1-year anniversary of living in Amsterdam is being celebrated in New York City. But I thought about Amsterdam a lot today, about how much I still completely love that city. I love my apartment, my job, my bike, the lifestyle, the sunsets, everything. But the reason I feel that Amsterdam is my home is because of the people I've met. When I arrived in Amsterdam I was totally alone. I was hungover, actually, having just taken the train from Paris with 2 giant suitcases. In some ways, I think this was an advantage - I was too tired to fully understand that I just showed up in a new city where I didn't know anyone, where I didn't have a job, and I had no idea how to actually fill my days.
I got to know people. I looked for a job. I freaked out, many times... MANY times about my decision. The day before I accepted the job offer, I went over every mistake I had ever made in thinking that living in Amsterdam was a good idea. Every person who told me that it was a bad idea, or stupid, or impossible, or if they gave me that look of "oh, so you're another one of those non-EU people who think they can just up and move to Amsterdam, that's so... cute," these people all affected me.
But it turns out I was right the whole time, and I love being right. Amsterdam is the city for me. It's home. I love it there. So all those freakouts, all that stress, all that uncertainty, it was all worth it.
I'm home here in Brooklyn, but when I go back to Amsterdam, I'll also be going home. How lucky am I, that I get to have more than one home?
Amazing.
Happy one-year anniversary to me!
November 20, 2008
Something just seems different
The International Documentary Film Festival in Amsterdam begins today (20 Nov)! I have been swamped at work lately, which means I haven't found the time to sit with the program and read about every single film, circling which one I want to see, and order tickets in advance. Note to self: next year, take this time off from work.
I'm in the midst of one of the busiest periods I've had in a really long time. Other than pulling a lot of really long days and nights at work, I just started a new round of Dutch classes (every Wednesday night) and signed up for private Italian classes twice a week. I'm starting to miss my apartment... the idea of spending time at home with a DVD or book on a Friday night is sounding better and better (though let's be honest, it probably won't happen).
I've mentioned this before, but it's something that has struck me every night this week as I'm rushing to class or work or pedaling home at midnight - as soon as I get outside, into my city, I'm feel relaxed. At the end of a busy day, I have that time on my bike to cycle though Amsterdam. My ride home is always peaceful and quiet. I sing along to my favorite songs or listen to podcasts and often take a detour through the museumplein. The bridges that run over the canals are lit up all year round, and when I get to the Amstel I always have to slow down - or stop entirely - to admire the view. That ride home always, always makes the day worth it.
Back in NYC, I used to have to go back and forth all the time from my office to our edit house (for work reasons) on the subway. I took that F/V train from Broadway/Lafayette to 23rd street at least a zillion times, cramming myself on to packed subway cars, dealing with delays, construction, the after-school crowd, crazy people, skipping stops and ending up in Brooklyn, or whatever else the MTA (that's the name of the metro system in NYC) wanted to throw at me. Here in Amsterdam, when I run back and forth between an edit house and my office, it's a 5-minute bike ride.
That right there makes all the difference. I'm still busy, I don't get to see my friends as much as I would like, I don't travel as much as I want, I have to cancel plans at the last minute, I'm always wishing for more sleep - but busy here is still drastically different than busy in New York City. I prefer it here.
I'm in the midst of one of the busiest periods I've had in a really long time. Other than pulling a lot of really long days and nights at work, I just started a new round of Dutch classes (every Wednesday night) and signed up for private Italian classes twice a week. I'm starting to miss my apartment... the idea of spending time at home with a DVD or book on a Friday night is sounding better and better (though let's be honest, it probably won't happen).
I've mentioned this before, but it's something that has struck me every night this week as I'm rushing to class or work or pedaling home at midnight - as soon as I get outside, into my city, I'm feel relaxed. At the end of a busy day, I have that time on my bike to cycle though Amsterdam. My ride home is always peaceful and quiet. I sing along to my favorite songs or listen to podcasts and often take a detour through the museumplein. The bridges that run over the canals are lit up all year round, and when I get to the Amstel I always have to slow down - or stop entirely - to admire the view. That ride home always, always makes the day worth it.
Back in NYC, I used to have to go back and forth all the time from my office to our edit house (for work reasons) on the subway. I took that F/V train from Broadway/Lafayette to 23rd street at least a zillion times, cramming myself on to packed subway cars, dealing with delays, construction, the after-school crowd, crazy people, skipping stops and ending up in Brooklyn, or whatever else the MTA (that's the name of the metro system in NYC) wanted to throw at me. Here in Amsterdam, when I run back and forth between an edit house and my office, it's a 5-minute bike ride.
That right there makes all the difference. I'm still busy, I don't get to see my friends as much as I would like, I don't travel as much as I want, I have to cancel plans at the last minute, I'm always wishing for more sleep - but busy here is still drastically different than busy in New York City. I prefer it here.
October 29, 2008
How many places can be considered home?
I'm sure everyone can relate to the feeling of missing someone or someplace - even people that have lived in the same town their entire lives have probably seen their friends pick up and move away, or have seen their town drastically change before their eyes to the point where it's not the same place anymore. But for those of us who have chosen to leave our home countries, I think there's a different kind of missing friends or places. Sometimes it's like this yearning, where I feel a certain something - a bad mood, a good mood, whatever - but I know exactly what would be perfect. And that exact thing is say, my favorite bar in Brooklyn with a good friend who speaks exactly the same way I speak, who will never say "what?" if I say something kind of slang-ish. Or if it's my favorite bar in Philadelphia, it's ordering a lager and not having the bartender say "what kind?" because in Philadelphia there is only one beer you get when you order a lager. My old bike is still in Philadelphia, being watched over by the same friend that was there to say goodbye to me just a few hours before I left to move to Europe this past April.
A good friend of mine from Brooklyn got in touch with me the other day to excitedly talk about holiday plans, and I had to say "oh, I'm sorry, I haven't told you yet - I'm not going home for the holidays, I'm staying in Europe." Instead of feeling excited about the fact that I'm saving myself a ton of money and stress and making really fun travel plans to explore new places I've never seen before ... I felt kind of sad.
This past Sunday night, I had about 11 people over for dinner. Seeing my home filled with friends eating and drinking is my favorite thing in the world, and I am incredibly lucky to have made such good friends in such a short time. I am so appreciative that my phone rings and a friend on the other end is telling me about three different Halloween parties going on this Friday. Everything about my life right now is the best good luck story ever - I landed a great job that sponsors me to live exactly where I want to be, I ride my bike every single day, I have a fantastic apartment, amazing friends, etc. But I admit, I was in a bit of a funk for the past couple days. I started thinking, wait... now I have to get a haircut in Amsterdam? I always planned to get a haircut in New York. And what about a winter coat? The plan was to go to Beacon's Closet in Williamsburg for a winter coat! I've been dying for a new pair of 8 gauge earrings, and I've been buying my jewelry in the same place for past ten years - Infinite Body Jewelry on 3rd and South in Philadelphia. Obviously, there are winter coats and hair salons and earrings in Amsterdam. But - that's not the point! In my mind, a new winter coat, a haircut, and a million other things (like a real onion bagel) were waiting until I was back in New York.
Now is missing out on any of that really so bad? Of course not. My life is comfortable and happy, I'm going to get some much-needed travel time over the holidays, and I'm absolutely sure this funk will pass. But I wanted to write about it anyway, because it's all part of keeping this blog and talking about my life in Amsterdam. I don't forget how fortunate I am every day for everything that has gone right in the past six months - but that doesn't mean that I'm immune to some elements of homesickness. I feel so wonderfully at home in Amsterdam that I don't even want to think of leaving... funny how that's possible. To love where you are, but be wishing to be somewhere else at the same time.
A good friend of mine from Brooklyn got in touch with me the other day to excitedly talk about holiday plans, and I had to say "oh, I'm sorry, I haven't told you yet - I'm not going home for the holidays, I'm staying in Europe." Instead of feeling excited about the fact that I'm saving myself a ton of money and stress and making really fun travel plans to explore new places I've never seen before ... I felt kind of sad.
This past Sunday night, I had about 11 people over for dinner. Seeing my home filled with friends eating and drinking is my favorite thing in the world, and I am incredibly lucky to have made such good friends in such a short time. I am so appreciative that my phone rings and a friend on the other end is telling me about three different Halloween parties going on this Friday. Everything about my life right now is the best good luck story ever - I landed a great job that sponsors me to live exactly where I want to be, I ride my bike every single day, I have a fantastic apartment, amazing friends, etc. But I admit, I was in a bit of a funk for the past couple days. I started thinking, wait... now I have to get a haircut in Amsterdam? I always planned to get a haircut in New York. And what about a winter coat? The plan was to go to Beacon's Closet in Williamsburg for a winter coat! I've been dying for a new pair of 8 gauge earrings, and I've been buying my jewelry in the same place for past ten years - Infinite Body Jewelry on 3rd and South in Philadelphia. Obviously, there are winter coats and hair salons and earrings in Amsterdam. But - that's not the point! In my mind, a new winter coat, a haircut, and a million other things (like a real onion bagel) were waiting until I was back in New York.
Now is missing out on any of that really so bad? Of course not. My life is comfortable and happy, I'm going to get some much-needed travel time over the holidays, and I'm absolutely sure this funk will pass. But I wanted to write about it anyway, because it's all part of keeping this blog and talking about my life in Amsterdam. I don't forget how fortunate I am every day for everything that has gone right in the past six months - but that doesn't mean that I'm immune to some elements of homesickness. I feel so wonderfully at home in Amsterdam that I don't even want to think of leaving... funny how that's possible. To love where you are, but be wishing to be somewhere else at the same time.
September 15, 2008
A bit of reminiscing
This time last year, I had recently moved into a tiny little room in another shared apartment in Brooklyn. I told my roommate upon moving in that I could only guarantee I would be there for 6 months (in the end, I was actually only there for five months), because I fully intended to move back to Europe. I hadn't really thought about the details, but I was already planning for it as though was absolutely happening. I remember eating dinner with my new roommate and my new neighbors back in mid-September 2007, telling them I had planned a one-week trip to Paris and Amsterdam, and that I had always loved Amsterdam, that I had always been so happy to visit Amsterdam when I lived in Paris.
"So why don't you just move there?" my neighbor asked. She had just returned to New York after a couple years in Thailand.
"Well, maybe I will," I said.
Back in February, I wrote in this blog:
I know I love Amsterdam and I can't wait to try and make my life there. And yes, I am very, very, very nervous and anxious about doing all of this on my own. I think I get a lot of undeserved credit for deciding to make this move, but the thing that just outright confuses me is when people say "you're so lucky!" I don't get that. Anyone - certainly any American - could do exactly what I'm doing. It's easier because I don't have kids, a house, or a family to support. But otherwise... luck? I decided to quit a really great job in New York City and leave most of my friends and family to move to a country that is already too crowded, where I hardly know anyone, I don't know the language, and the weather sucks. If I succeed in making Amsterdam my home, then maybe one can say I'm lucky ... but if I do succeed it will be because I worked my ass off on making it happen.
You know what? I am extraordinarily lucky that everything kind of happened in the best possible way - I couldn't have possibly predicted that things would work out so easily. But I want to remind readers, and friends of mine that I've met since moving here - that it did take a lot of work. It took a lot of research, a lot of planning for things that never happened, dealing with a lot of criticism, second-guessing everything, and worst of all, it was a lot - a LOT of waiting.
But it was absolutely the right thing to do. I was just talking about this last night with my new roommate. He left a job and friends he adored in Berlin to move to Amsterdam, where he only knows a couple people, to start a new job and be closer to his girlfriend (who lives in Rotterdam). And I could see some hesitation in him, probably asking himself why leave somewhere when there aren't any problems? Where everything is going just fine, where you have friends and you like the city and you love your apartment?
I can't quite explain it, but for some reason, I knew I had to leave New York. Despite the fact that I had a great job I loved. Despite the fact that I had a full social life, an amazing set of friends, family, routines, etc. I mean, really, there was no reason for me to leave. Things were completely fine just the way they were. I was doing well in pretty much every aspect of my life. On my last day in NYC I was standing around with one of my best friends in the world, looking nervously at my backpack full of everything I would be taking with me to Europe, wondering why on earth I was doing this to myself again. "what if it doesn't work? what if I don't make any friends? what if this is all a huge mistake? why the hell am I doing this?" And he just listened to me ramble on and on, then became exasperated with me and told me to just shut up and leave already (in so many words).
Last week I was on my way to the movies here in Amsterdam. The screening was due to start at 8.30pm, but I had wanted to get there early to get a good seat, and I was running late. While I was cycling, I pulled out my phone to call my friend. "hey, I'm on my way, but I probably won't be there for another 20 minutes... would you mind..." and before I could finish my sentence he said "yes, Tami, I'll save you a seat," with a slight tone of exasperation (because I kinda always ask him to do that). When I arrived, the screening was sold out, but he had gotten me a ticket and greeted me with a hug. Then we went into the theater to watch Russian sci-fi from the 1960's with English subtitles.
My point is, you know who your friends are when you don't have to worry about exasperating them. I have tons of friends in the US that I can safely exasperate and annoy, and now after 4 months in Holland, I'm annoying and exasperating a whole new set of people.
Leaving NYC to give Europe another shot was one of the best decisions I ever made, and it was worth it. All the waiting, the research, the planning, etc. It was totally worth it.
"So why don't you just move there?" my neighbor asked. She had just returned to New York after a couple years in Thailand.
"Well, maybe I will," I said.
Back in February, I wrote in this blog:
I know I love Amsterdam and I can't wait to try and make my life there. And yes, I am very, very, very nervous and anxious about doing all of this on my own. I think I get a lot of undeserved credit for deciding to make this move, but the thing that just outright confuses me is when people say "you're so lucky!" I don't get that. Anyone - certainly any American - could do exactly what I'm doing. It's easier because I don't have kids, a house, or a family to support. But otherwise... luck? I decided to quit a really great job in New York City and leave most of my friends and family to move to a country that is already too crowded, where I hardly know anyone, I don't know the language, and the weather sucks. If I succeed in making Amsterdam my home, then maybe one can say I'm lucky ... but if I do succeed it will be because I worked my ass off on making it happen.
You know what? I am extraordinarily lucky that everything kind of happened in the best possible way - I couldn't have possibly predicted that things would work out so easily. But I want to remind readers, and friends of mine that I've met since moving here - that it did take a lot of work. It took a lot of research, a lot of planning for things that never happened, dealing with a lot of criticism, second-guessing everything, and worst of all, it was a lot - a LOT of waiting.
But it was absolutely the right thing to do. I was just talking about this last night with my new roommate. He left a job and friends he adored in Berlin to move to Amsterdam, where he only knows a couple people, to start a new job and be closer to his girlfriend (who lives in Rotterdam). And I could see some hesitation in him, probably asking himself why leave somewhere when there aren't any problems? Where everything is going just fine, where you have friends and you like the city and you love your apartment?
I can't quite explain it, but for some reason, I knew I had to leave New York. Despite the fact that I had a great job I loved. Despite the fact that I had a full social life, an amazing set of friends, family, routines, etc. I mean, really, there was no reason for me to leave. Things were completely fine just the way they were. I was doing well in pretty much every aspect of my life. On my last day in NYC I was standing around with one of my best friends in the world, looking nervously at my backpack full of everything I would be taking with me to Europe, wondering why on earth I was doing this to myself again. "what if it doesn't work? what if I don't make any friends? what if this is all a huge mistake? why the hell am I doing this?" And he just listened to me ramble on and on, then became exasperated with me and told me to just shut up and leave already (in so many words).
Last week I was on my way to the movies here in Amsterdam. The screening was due to start at 8.30pm, but I had wanted to get there early to get a good seat, and I was running late. While I was cycling, I pulled out my phone to call my friend. "hey, I'm on my way, but I probably won't be there for another 20 minutes... would you mind..." and before I could finish my sentence he said "yes, Tami, I'll save you a seat," with a slight tone of exasperation (because I kinda always ask him to do that). When I arrived, the screening was sold out, but he had gotten me a ticket and greeted me with a hug. Then we went into the theater to watch Russian sci-fi from the 1960's with English subtitles.
My point is, you know who your friends are when you don't have to worry about exasperating them. I have tons of friends in the US that I can safely exasperate and annoy, and now after 4 months in Holland, I'm annoying and exasperating a whole new set of people.
Leaving NYC to give Europe another shot was one of the best decisions I ever made, and it was worth it. All the waiting, the research, the planning, etc. It was totally worth it.
July 15, 2008
Close to home
Yesterday was a long day at work, and during one of the many moments in the day where I was waiting for something to happen, I got into a conversation with a colleague about Milan, Italy, and how different it is to live and work there than it is to live and work in Amsterdam. I asked him to explain what it was about Milan that is so incredibly different, and as he talked it sounded like he was describing New York City. It's one thing to spend a day at work being crazy and busy and dramatic and high-strung, but it can be horrible to leave the office and be greeted with crazy, busy, dramatic, high-strung people all around you. "It was just too much," he said, "Too expensive, too crowded, just every aspect of life was totally rushed and stressful, never relaxed, ever." I remember that feeling, of leaving work at the end of really busy day - say at 9 or 10 at night, and still having to deal with crowds of people pushing me through the subway, the sounds of car alarms and horns honking and smells and sirens. Sometimes that atmosphere can be fun, intoxicating, the kind of thing that made me feel alive every minute of the day.
But sometimes it was just too much. And I think one thing that everyone who lives in Amsterdam can agree on is that this city - as far as cities go - is the opposite of high-stress and dramatic. I love that. It's totally different than where I came from, and that's what appeals to me.
However, I also love the fact that I stopped for a sesame bagel with chive cream cheese on my way to work. Sometimes a little taste of home is nice.
So I ended up missing the film I wanted to see last night, but I still went to De Nieuwe Anita to meet up with my friends for a few beers. It was a nice evening, made even nicer by the fact that the smoking ban is in full affect and I went home without my clothes and hair smelling like smoke! The Dutch establishments I've been to since the first of July seem ready for the ban (they did have 2 years warning, after all). Smokers are being told that even when they're outside, they can't just drop their cigarettes on the ground, they have to use ashtrays. Coffeeshops have their own bizarre set of rules where it's still legal to smoke pure marijuana, but if you mix it with tobacco, that's not allowed, unless there's a special smoking room. If there IS one of these special smoking rooms, the employees aren't allowed to go in and clean up after people (because the ban exists to protect the workers from second hand smoke). Again, it's weird, but people will get used to it. I'm just trying to piece information together based on what I've read and heard - but overall, the folks who live here seem pretty okay with the ban. It certainly has made my life easier.
But sometimes it was just too much. And I think one thing that everyone who lives in Amsterdam can agree on is that this city - as far as cities go - is the opposite of high-stress and dramatic. I love that. It's totally different than where I came from, and that's what appeals to me.
However, I also love the fact that I stopped for a sesame bagel with chive cream cheese on my way to work. Sometimes a little taste of home is nice.
So I ended up missing the film I wanted to see last night, but I still went to De Nieuwe Anita to meet up with my friends for a few beers. It was a nice evening, made even nicer by the fact that the smoking ban is in full affect and I went home without my clothes and hair smelling like smoke! The Dutch establishments I've been to since the first of July seem ready for the ban (they did have 2 years warning, after all). Smokers are being told that even when they're outside, they can't just drop their cigarettes on the ground, they have to use ashtrays. Coffeeshops have their own bizarre set of rules where it's still legal to smoke pure marijuana, but if you mix it with tobacco, that's not allowed, unless there's a special smoking room. If there IS one of these special smoking rooms, the employees aren't allowed to go in and clean up after people (because the ban exists to protect the workers from second hand smoke). Again, it's weird, but people will get used to it. I'm just trying to piece information together based on what I've read and heard - but overall, the folks who live here seem pretty okay with the ban. It certainly has made my life easier.
January 14, 2008
The final two weeks in New York City
With just a little over two weeks left in New York, I'm finding that every minute of my time is booked up, though I'm certainly not complaining. All of my free time is generally being spent with friends, running around, and having fun. I finally made it to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan and was delighted that they accepted my expired, phony ISIC student ID - but I must remember to try and get a new one before I leave the states again.
My father came down over the weekend to take a carload of photo albums, comic books, and a few other items that I don't want to permanently get rid of but I won't move overseas with me. My grandmother's beautiful silver coffee set, the coffee mug my old roommate made for me - all those items are packed up yet again in a box and will live in my father's attic for an undetermined amount of time. It is a little sad to see my apartment start to be emptied out of my things.
I received a wonderful gift in the mail from my friend Christine, the girl that I'll be staying with when I arrive in the Netherlands in April. She sent me Geert Mak's "Amsterdam: A Brief Life of the City," which I've been devouring anytime I get a spare minute. There is nothing that will make me fall more in love with a city than learning its history, and this is a totally new subject for me to learn and obsess over. I fell for the author's writing style when, in the first chapter, he explains the early history of Amsterdam by saying "...the young city drew strength from the fact that it was situated close to so many important cities, at least by the standards of the day. Added to this were factors that so often lead to great success: 1) chance; 2) an invention that was to have momentous consequences; and 3) above all, the stupidity and short-sightedness of others."
In the next two weeks, my main focus has to be wrapping up my life here in New York. My co-workers and supervisors are being incredibly kind and supportive of my decision to leave, and while right now I'm still excited, I have a feeling that my last day at this job is going to be pretty hard. In addition to getting everything in order at work, I need to change my address in a million different places, try and see a doctor, donate all my furniture, and of course buy my tickets to Europe (which I'll do tomorrow after I get paid).
By the way, if anyone is looking for the best deal between New York City and Paris, Air India always has the best prices. There's a daily flight between the two cities, and I'm going to pay a total of $560 USD for roundtrip tickets. They also make it very easy to exchange tickets for a different date and only charge a $75 fee, which isn't actually that much compared to other airlines. Plus, the airline attendants don't think it's weird when you request a vegetarian meal. Being able to change the date for my return trip is important, since I really have no idea when I'll be able to go back to the states. I've randomly picked December 22 2008 as a return date, figuring it would be nice to be home for the holidays - then again, it might be nice to spend the holidays somewhere totally different. It is always cheaper to buy roundtrip tickets and change the return flight rather than buy one-way tickets between the states and Europe.
Though I have been having a great time in New York City lately, this weekend my neighbors were robbed (at knife point) and I had to step over two dead rats on the sidewalk outside my house. It comes with the territory of course, but it is nice to remember all the things I won't miss.
My father came down over the weekend to take a carload of photo albums, comic books, and a few other items that I don't want to permanently get rid of but I won't move overseas with me. My grandmother's beautiful silver coffee set, the coffee mug my old roommate made for me - all those items are packed up yet again in a box and will live in my father's attic for an undetermined amount of time. It is a little sad to see my apartment start to be emptied out of my things.
I received a wonderful gift in the mail from my friend Christine, the girl that I'll be staying with when I arrive in the Netherlands in April. She sent me Geert Mak's "Amsterdam: A Brief Life of the City," which I've been devouring anytime I get a spare minute. There is nothing that will make me fall more in love with a city than learning its history, and this is a totally new subject for me to learn and obsess over. I fell for the author's writing style when, in the first chapter, he explains the early history of Amsterdam by saying "...the young city drew strength from the fact that it was situated close to so many important cities, at least by the standards of the day. Added to this were factors that so often lead to great success: 1) chance; 2) an invention that was to have momentous consequences; and 3) above all, the stupidity and short-sightedness of others."
In the next two weeks, my main focus has to be wrapping up my life here in New York. My co-workers and supervisors are being incredibly kind and supportive of my decision to leave, and while right now I'm still excited, I have a feeling that my last day at this job is going to be pretty hard. In addition to getting everything in order at work, I need to change my address in a million different places, try and see a doctor, donate all my furniture, and of course buy my tickets to Europe (which I'll do tomorrow after I get paid).
By the way, if anyone is looking for the best deal between New York City and Paris, Air India always has the best prices. There's a daily flight between the two cities, and I'm going to pay a total of $560 USD for roundtrip tickets. They also make it very easy to exchange tickets for a different date and only charge a $75 fee, which isn't actually that much compared to other airlines. Plus, the airline attendants don't think it's weird when you request a vegetarian meal. Being able to change the date for my return trip is important, since I really have no idea when I'll be able to go back to the states. I've randomly picked December 22 2008 as a return date, figuring it would be nice to be home for the holidays - then again, it might be nice to spend the holidays somewhere totally different. It is always cheaper to buy roundtrip tickets and change the return flight rather than buy one-way tickets between the states and Europe.
Though I have been having a great time in New York City lately, this weekend my neighbors were robbed (at knife point) and I had to step over two dead rats on the sidewalk outside my house. It comes with the territory of course, but it is nice to remember all the things I won't miss.
January 3, 2008
Getting ready to leave New York - first Portland, then LA, and finally Amsterdam
I purchased one-way flight tickets from New York City to Portland, Oregon and from Oregon to Los Angeles. I leave New York on the 29th of January, and I'm spending five days in Portland before heading to LA to begin my (temporary) new life as someone who works at an accounting office as of February 4.
While in Portland I'll be meeting with the woman I talked to about a potential job in Amsterdam at an editorial company. Getting in with this company would give me the best chance at a legit way of living and working in the Netherlands and would do wonders for my career, so obviously that is my first choice. The company has their main office in Oregon, a very small operation in NYC, and a growing operation in Amsterdam. I already met someone from the NY office and really fell in love with the entire company and filled my head with all types of wishful thinking.
I also started writing out my application for the Binger Filmlab. From what I can learn about this school, it sounds like a dream. If being accepted meant that I got to apply for a student residence permit, the timing would be perfect. It would also be absolutely amazing to spend five months working intensely on my film in a creative and supportive environment.
In the time between Christmas and the New Year, I really went back and forth a million times about taking this next step. Quitting my job here in New York, moving to the west coast for a few months, planning out my living situation in Amsterdam... it definitely all started to seem a little overwhelming. But what I keep coming back to is this very simple fact: if it doesn't work out, I'll do something else, and that will be okay. If the weather or the flat landscape of the Netherlands depresses me too much, or if I really can't find a way to get the proper permits, or if I run out of money, then I will just simply do something else. I mean, it's possible that I might try to make the film and discover I don't really have the dedication that I think I have, though of course I really hope that's not true.
Here's the thing I've learned after having moved around a bit from city to city, and it's a very simple lesson: I need to allow myself a decent amount of time to figure things out. When I lived in Paris, I honestly never really felt like it was my home until I had been there for about a year. It took about that long to figure out my routine, to find my regular spots, and to stop having to ask questions about the culture/language/policies before doing everything. After about a year, I had been to French doctors, done little things like give directions to other Parisians who would end up lost in my neighborhood, and I found a job. When I moved to New York City - a place I've been visiting my entire life - it took about six months before I felt similarly comfortable. I had to learn a lot of things about this culture that I didn't know that I needed to know, if that makes sense. I had to act like a ten-hour work day was something I was totally familiar with, when in fact I had just moved from a country where I worked about six hours a day max. I had to figure out how to survive without any health insurance, it took months to find an apartment, and everything in NYC is done through favors and friends and knowing the right people. The rules are always bent and things are always just a little (or a lot) illegal, from apartment terms to work conditions.
Living in Paris was originally a six-month experiment that ended up stretching on for almost two years. There was so much I figured out as I went along, and it's been the same for NYC. I thought I would move to NYC and stay for a few years, but after about six months here, everything in my personal life changed and it prompted me to come up with another plan. I love this city and I love the people here, but this isn't the life that I want right now. If you had asked me about a year ago, I would have given a totally different answer.
So what I'm going to do is keep trying to learn as much as I can about living in Amsterdam. I'll keep listening to podcasts on Radio Netherlands and trying to teach myself as much as I can from books, message boards, blogs, and expat communities online. I will save as much money as humanly possible in the next several months and keep working on research for my documentary. However, I know that no amount of research is really going to teach me all the things I'm bound to pick up along the way. No matter what happens, I'll keep this blog updated and hope that someone out there is reading, and maybe even learning through the mistakes that I'm bound to make!
While in Portland I'll be meeting with the woman I talked to about a potential job in Amsterdam at an editorial company. Getting in with this company would give me the best chance at a legit way of living and working in the Netherlands and would do wonders for my career, so obviously that is my first choice. The company has their main office in Oregon, a very small operation in NYC, and a growing operation in Amsterdam. I already met someone from the NY office and really fell in love with the entire company and filled my head with all types of wishful thinking.
I also started writing out my application for the Binger Filmlab. From what I can learn about this school, it sounds like a dream. If being accepted meant that I got to apply for a student residence permit, the timing would be perfect. It would also be absolutely amazing to spend five months working intensely on my film in a creative and supportive environment.
In the time between Christmas and the New Year, I really went back and forth a million times about taking this next step. Quitting my job here in New York, moving to the west coast for a few months, planning out my living situation in Amsterdam... it definitely all started to seem a little overwhelming. But what I keep coming back to is this very simple fact: if it doesn't work out, I'll do something else, and that will be okay. If the weather or the flat landscape of the Netherlands depresses me too much, or if I really can't find a way to get the proper permits, or if I run out of money, then I will just simply do something else. I mean, it's possible that I might try to make the film and discover I don't really have the dedication that I think I have, though of course I really hope that's not true.
Here's the thing I've learned after having moved around a bit from city to city, and it's a very simple lesson: I need to allow myself a decent amount of time to figure things out. When I lived in Paris, I honestly never really felt like it was my home until I had been there for about a year. It took about that long to figure out my routine, to find my regular spots, and to stop having to ask questions about the culture/language/policies before doing everything. After about a year, I had been to French doctors, done little things like give directions to other Parisians who would end up lost in my neighborhood, and I found a job. When I moved to New York City - a place I've been visiting my entire life - it took about six months before I felt similarly comfortable. I had to learn a lot of things about this culture that I didn't know that I needed to know, if that makes sense. I had to act like a ten-hour work day was something I was totally familiar with, when in fact I had just moved from a country where I worked about six hours a day max. I had to figure out how to survive without any health insurance, it took months to find an apartment, and everything in NYC is done through favors and friends and knowing the right people. The rules are always bent and things are always just a little (or a lot) illegal, from apartment terms to work conditions.
Living in Paris was originally a six-month experiment that ended up stretching on for almost two years. There was so much I figured out as I went along, and it's been the same for NYC. I thought I would move to NYC and stay for a few years, but after about six months here, everything in my personal life changed and it prompted me to come up with another plan. I love this city and I love the people here, but this isn't the life that I want right now. If you had asked me about a year ago, I would have given a totally different answer.
So what I'm going to do is keep trying to learn as much as I can about living in Amsterdam. I'll keep listening to podcasts on Radio Netherlands and trying to teach myself as much as I can from books, message boards, blogs, and expat communities online. I will save as much money as humanly possible in the next several months and keep working on research for my documentary. However, I know that no amount of research is really going to teach me all the things I'm bound to pick up along the way. No matter what happens, I'll keep this blog updated and hope that someone out there is reading, and maybe even learning through the mistakes that I'm bound to make!
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