goodnight Amsterdam, and fare thee well

Dear Amsterdam,

As I contemplate the fact that I'll next see the sun set on another continent, I'm very pleased to have spent the last several weeks getting to know you.

You're a very lovely city, and I remain charmed by your deep, rich history. I've had a wonderful time here and I hope to return to your cobblestone streets again someday.

But I'm glad to be going home. I miss my native language, my queen-sized bed, my kitties, and my kitchen with it's full complement of counter-space and accompanying arsenal of utensils. I miss my friends and my school and my city, with its antiquated public transit system and a deep, rich history all its own.

So even though I know I'll miss you when I'm gone, right about now I just can't sleep for the anticipation of traveling homeward bound following the next sunrise.

Fondly,

Jacqui

the sounds of Amsterdam

I heard cathedral bells dripping down the alleyways...

• the ringing of bicycle bells
• the foreign sound of spoken Dutch
• humming, whistling, and singing; usually by a solo walker, but the refrain of a late-night tavern chorus occasionally echoes through the narrow streets as well
• the clattering of dishes being collected and washed; and also the crash of glass bottles being thrown into recycling receptacles, as well as the cascading weekly crashes when the big trucks come through to collect from those receptacles
• accordion-laced gypsy-polska music
• cathedral bells: tolling the time but also, at special times, chiming metallic, droning melodies
• boat horns (which is a sound reminiscent of New Orleans)
• horseshoes on cobblestone streets (also reminiscent of New Orleans)
• the frenetic electronic beat of EU pop music
• birdsong: owls and others I know not how to identify
• laughter: of children and adults alike
• the growling of motorbike engines
• dogs barking
• the squeaky machinery of bicycles being put to good use, carrying children and cargo and people all day every day

One of the neat things about traveling to a foreign land is how you notice such things as the sounds of a city. Ordinary sounds you generally take for granted in everyday life at home, but which suddenly take on new meaning in a situation where so much is unfamiliar. Because many of the sounds are familiar, listening to them closely reminds me that even though most of the talking in this place is done in a language I don't understand, the things that people are doing are not so foreign.

That is to say that Dutch culture, being inherently Western European, is not so dissimilar from my own that I feel out of place here. And listening to the sounds of the city reinforces for me the similarity of my culture to that of this place.

Even still, I do find myself eager to get back to the American South, where everything is spoken and written in a language I know, and the only cultural nuances I'll have to navigate are those with which I'm well accustomed...

ETA: A demonstration (apologies for the orientation; I lack video editing software/skills) ~