Some Things Never Change

Some things never change. I went out for a jaunt in Amsterdam and was shocked how much I remembered from my trip here in 1998. Even down to the guide books for sale at shops much of what I saw was the same.

While there was construction and renovations going on the building were as I recalled. However, there was a Hooters when I went back then and while the entire façade was the same it was no longer Hooters but rather another restaurant of the exact same principle. I stood in the middle of the Dam square I knew exactly where to go to find the infamous red Light District. I knew where to find the Cat Boat, Anne Frank’s house, the hemp museum, the sex museum, and so on. Over a decade and I still knew where Ursula’s guest house where I stayed was, even though I did not know if she was still there calling out the Yanks.

Since I was not feeling especially well and had little time I thought I’d just take a walk around. Walking through town it felt dirtier then I remember it and garbage was everywhere. That was saddening to after having seen such beautiful towns like Stockholm, Helsinki, Tallinn, and Copenhagen, but these cities were immaculate in comparison to Amsterdam.

Indeed I felt obligated to walk through the Red Light district due to its convenience to the port. Sure enough the infamous window shopping was in full swing. Walking by a window with a lady in lingerie smoking a cigarette in one hand and talking on the phone in the other smiling at the male shoppers as they walked by. Women were arriving for work and men were waiting for them.

The other thing I noticed far more of this trip in comparison to 1998 was the quantity of coffee shops offering cannabis. There seemed to be two or three on every block. Walking by each one was enough to make me worry about the random drug tests on board. This to me explained the lofty, slow , and unfocused tourists throughout town. People seem to meander around with a glazed look as they wander through this historical town.

I also observed an unusual eagerness in which young folks headed to a church service. Nearly knocking me over as they hurriedly ran up the church steps minutes before the service was to start was intriguing to me. Of course I felt I had to look into the church and the service was full of people. I have looked into at least ten church services during this trip as well as attending a musical service myself. The difference between those church services was this one in Amsterdam, the city of questionable behavior, and the other cities was this church service was full and the others practically empty. Hmm.