First post from Adam

Amsterdam for Idiot Americans

(By an Idiot American) – Part I

First of all, the toilets. God, the toilets. European toilets are indicative of the near-maniacal efficiency endemic to European people. “Low-flow” water-saving toilets have faced significant backlash since their adoption in America a few years back, and rightly so; we have so much water and hate it so much we like to piss and shit in it. Fuck “low-flow”. The toilets in Amsterdam are “no-flow” affairs. There is no water in the tank. None. Water is introduced for only a few seconds when you open the flush valve, meaning far less than a gallon would be used in a typical transaction. That’s probably the way a European instruction manual for the toilet would refer to the act of using a toilet: a transaction. Anyway, this is as efficient as it all sounds, damning millennia of human evolution that have ingrained in us that we shouldn’t sit directly over top a steaming pile of our own poop any longer than is absolutely necessary. As a highly-evolved American, I must admit taking exception at having this thrust upon me immediately upon my arrival to the continent.

Secondly, if you’ve ever heard the phrase “No, your money’s no good here...” it has usually been in the pleasant tone of voice one hears when one is about to get free stuff. Not so in Europe. Now, my wife and I didn’t think we’d just be able to hop off the plane here and buy a Big-Mac with our green-backs, and we were ready to exchange our money for Euro’s upon arrival. We had even taken the precaution of calling our credit card companies to let them know we’d be traveling to the Netherlands, and please not to block our charges, and we honestly thought we had everything planned-out and prepared. It was in line to purchase a train ticket out of Schipol International that the phrase “pin-and-chip” was introduced into our lexicon. See, Europeans got tired of the rampant piracy inherent in letting people sign a dotted line for access to credit, so shortly after the introduction of the Euro, credit card companies here began issuing more secure cards that have a security chip and require a pin rather than a signature. No U.S. bank issues them, because no merchants in the U.S. accept them. When we arrived at our lovely suburban neighborhood in the Jordaan, we quickly realized our plan to avoid exchange fees by using credit and paying when we returned to the States was a pipe-dream. In our many phone calls to three or four companies, no one bothered to mention the cards wouldn’t be accepted nine out of ten places. Several hours of phone-yelling later, we got things straightened out, but let this be a warning to ye prospective travelers.

Enough of that though. What you all want to know about is the weed. What can I say about weed in Amsterdam? It's almost all been very good. As background for those of you who might not know me personally, I’m a student and amateur musician in New Orleans, and I smoke regularly in my daily life at home. It is tolerated there more-so than in many American cities that do not have an active medical-marijuana community, but it is a ticket-able or arrest-able offense at an officer's discretion. All of this is to say that I am in no way new to marijuana, but I must say it has been refreshing to visit a place that has more or less fully embraced the path of acceptance of cannabis use. The coffeshops (one word) here range from hovel, touristy affairs close to the train-stations to relaxing local places where you’ll see the same frequent neighborhood regulars. It seems to me that there are a few places to get good-quality reliable smoke (such as the uptown Barney’s on Haarlemerstraat and Kadinsky by Universitie van Amsterdam), but they aren’t necessarily the ones you’d want to hang around in to partake. On the other hand, there are some quaint joints in back ally’s that are great for people watching and sinking into a bench while smoking hash and drinking a latte, but where the smoke on offer is of the more affordable but still quite serviceable variety. (Paradox comes to mind for this category; really nice folks there.) Lastly, I’ll mention the little spot here in my Jordaan neighborhood, Spirit. My old friends from the Fenian’s/Martins crowd will know what I mean when I compare Sprit to our dearly departed W.C. Don’s. This place is as local and dive-y as they come, but Spirit’s owner has an important advantage over old Terry in that Terry wasn’t allowed to sell Moroccan Ice-o-lator Hash. I’ve been spending an embarrassing amount of time there, but you would probably do so as well if there was hash within easy walking distance of your apartment, even if the vibe was Don’s-y.

My estimation of the city’s attitude towards marijuana is that it is roughly analogous to New Orleans’ towards alcohol. In Amsterdam, cannabis is readily available, scarcely regulated, and its use is accepted as a part of every-day life. Comparatively, I think that you’d have a hard time arguing that people in New Orleans are better off with their vice than are those here in Amsterdam. I’ve seen no fights in coffeeshops here, the annoyingly fucked-up folks have rather obviously been the few drunk ones, and the only negative consequences I’ve suffered from a week of smoking at every opportunity from sun-up to sun-down have been dry-mouth and consumption of an absurd amount of cheese and chocolate. Amsterdam wins, and weed wins along with it.

I’ll write several more times while we’re here. Hopefully I can tell you all about the Rembrandt museum and all of the other must-see tourist things, and maybe compile a little review of restaurants, coffeeshops, and bud strains for you. We’ll be going to the Hague in a few days time; I shall be making hash-fudge for the occasion. My grocery list today was priceless: condensed milk, cinnamon, chocolate, 3 grams Dutch-Malana Hash, nutmeg... These are good times, friends, good times; I shall try to remember to write and tell you all about them.

I can’t promise anything entirely coherent about the Hague though. There's something there called the "Peace Palace", but don’t be expecting a detailed report.

/ah