The Aliens Visit the Old Country, Part 2

      We spent part of this Easter holiday returning to our roots -- or the roots of some members of the family, anyway. That is to say, we spent a day in the Netherlands, in Amsterdam. Amsterdam is famous for bicycles, canals, legalized marijuana, and the Red Light district. Our rundown: It was too cold to ride bicycles, the canals were unique and beautiful, we skipped the drugs (both the ones in on display museums and the ones for sale in coffee shops), and the only thing we saw in the Red Light district was the Oude Kerk. If we really wanted to get a feel for Holland, Amsterdam was perhaps not the best spot. The city didn't feel very Dutch to me -- whatever that means. We stayed, for example, in a Middle Eastern neighborhood. This turned out to be a good thing, because we arrived in town on Easter evening and found restaurants and stores open anyway. We were also able to eat Turkish pastries with feta and spinach for breakfast -- yum (though Eric really wanted some sweet Dutch pastry).
       One day is not really enough to do justice to Amsterdam (much less to get a feel for the country as a whole), but we did our best. We began (after the spinach and feta) with a visit to the Verzetsmuseum (Dutch Resistance Museum). The museum tells the story of Holland during the Nazi Occupation from 1940 - 1945. As Eric's granddad was part of the resistance, it was one of the main sights we wanted to see in Amsterdam. The three extremely kind ladies behind the counter spent about 20 minutes trying to make it work for all five of us to gain admission with a family ticket, even though, at 16 1/2, Drew is no longer a child (mom's note: for payment purposes only). Some members of the family were disappointed that the museum focused on all kinds of resistance, rather than just the organized kind. I thought it was fascinating and well-done. We heard about one woman who expressed her displeasure with the Nazis by naming her baby daughter after all the female members of the exiled Dutch royal family, and another couple who rescued Jewish babies from a daycare by sneaking out when the tram was passing so they couldn't be seen by watchers across the street. During the "Hungry Winter," when ration cards provided for only about 350 calories per person each day, the Dutch also ate tulip bulbs -- the museum had recipes.

Outside the Dutch Resistance Museum

There was some information about the organized resistance movement; this chart shows some of its leadership.

        Activity number two was the obligatory walk around the city to see canals, neighborhoods, and famous buildings. (We also had lunch in an Italian restaurant.)

I loved the canals and the narrow brick buildings.

The Oude Kerk, Amsterdam's oldest church. 

      We continued our multicultural Amsterdam experience with dinner at an Indian restaurant, then we visited the Anne Frank house. Johanna read The Diary of Anne Frank for French class this year, so the annex where Anne and her family hid along with several others was an essential part of the visit. I had read mixed reviews of the tour, but I found it informative and moving. I was surprised to learn that at first, Anne's father had trouble finding a publisher for the diary. Now it's been translated into 67 languages and has sold more than 30 million copies; sometimes it's difficult to tell what's going to be a hit, apparently.

The line outside the Anne Frank House. Do I hear a "Thank you, Mom, for pre-purchasing our tickets online"?
 (No, but I'm sure they're thinking it, right?)

This picture and the one below are of the street outside the Anne Frank House. I do love that architecture.

       The little we experienced of Holland made me think of Sweden. Both countries seemed very modern, compared to Switzerland, and very multicultural (Amsterdam even more so than Sweden). In both countries, I felt comfortable and welcomed as an anglophone . . . and even as an American. Both countries embrace tolerance. In both museums we visited in Amsterdam, we felt like there was such an effort to understand and accept all points of view that the atrocities of the Nazis and those who collaborated with them were almost minimized. Eric never did get his Dutch pastry, but he was delighted to find that the city was still traditional enough to sell zoute drop. It's the one candy he doesn't have to share; we may all have some Dutch in us, but no one but Eric has enough to enjoy salty black licorice. Yuck.