Note: This post is part of Reschooling Abroad: The Archives. 

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

Hello, my family and friends,

No, the subject line is not a racial slur; it’s from the new Austin Powers. Greetings from Rotterdam! My family and I arrived here on Wednesday (I didn’t get a birthday because I was on the plane all day. In fact, I forgot it was my birthday until someone mentioned it! :(). Can’t complain too much, I guess, because we were bound for Europe, and after a long trip dragging huge suitcases, we arrived in Rotterdam.

As many of you know, my parents, sis and I are doing a home exchange with a Dutch family. It’s through an online organization that matches compatible parties, who then swap homes for an agreed period of time. Sound simple? It’s really not. My mom has spent months getting to know this family, and they are really adorable. It’s a set of middle-aged parents and an 18-year-old son, who emails Gill and me every day with updates and questions, and answers to ours (like “How do you work the washing machine if the buttons on it, and the manual, are in Dutch?”). They are enjoying Sonoma so far and the surrounding area (SF, Bodega Bay, etc.).

The great part is, our places are so different. First of all, the Dutch family lives in a 34-story building right near the river. It’s so big it’s on every detailed map of the city. We’re on the 23rd floor in a gorgeous apartment with hardwood floors and lots of space. It’s extremely modern (much more than our 21-year-old house), sparsely and elegantly decorated in black and white, and like the rest of Rotterdam, has sleek lines and makes an excellent use of space.

The second difference is the cities themselves. Sonoma is mostly two-lane roads, wineries, hills, and neighborhoods. Rotterdam is a bustling port city, industrial; I’d say there are more working people here than tourists. It was razed in WWII by Nazi bombs (except for an old section that survived, more about that later) and was rebuilt afterward; that’s why it looks so different from other Dutch cities. It’s known for its cutting-edge architecture and uniquely designed bridge.

Public transportation is AMAZING here; there’s a tram (cable car), a metro, and a train station — America, wake up and follow suit! It’s also pretty walkable. Unfortunately, it’s been raining here about half the time, but we braved it today. We met a Dutch friend of my mom’s and his family, who were adorable, and walked around the old part of Rotterdam, which has a rebuilt windmill and houses in the old-style architecture. It’s like Amsterdam, but quieter.

Amsterdam itself was fabulous. The downtown area is in constant motion, with throngs of people walking everywhere and cars and bikes zooming by. The bikes in Dutch cities are worse than the cars, because they don’t stop for pedestrians! My mom sort of got nicked by one as it zoomed by, which was funny because she had been neurotically warning us, “Watch out! Watch out!” every five seconds (for once I’m not the most paranoid one). Of course this little episode gives her more reason to be anxious. The canals are amazing, boats just cruising right through the middle of the street. We didn’t see much of the sordid side of Amsterdam, although the drug presence is definitely noticeable. Amusingly, “coffee shops” are really places to hang out and smoke pot — I can just imagine families or old couples wandering in unawares and getting treated to some magic brownies.

Although we’ve mostly had a large dose of family time, Gillie and I got a little taste of Rotterdam nightlife. Marlon (the son of our Dutch exchangers) had his friend Vincent take us out for a night on the town. We went dancing Thursday night until 2:30 a.m., which was great. It was funny that he knew the hip-hop music and slang better than we did. His English was excellent, which makes me super jealous — in his school, he was required to take four languages. I have been seriously deprived!! Anyway, I didn’t feel quite like an authentic member of the young Dutch crowd, because Gill and I were among the few not smoking or drinking and chatting in Dutch, but once we went to the hip-hop room you couldn’t hear anything anyway. It’s nearly all American music that’s played here.

Many of you have requested photos. Just to warn you, Gill and I have been taking mostly pictures of oddities (you know our twisted sense of humor) like mangled Barbie dolls glued to the front of a bike, or a street sign pointing to “Vasteland.” A favorite sign of mine says “Let op! Drempels,” which means “Slow down!speedbumps.” I love trying to learn pieces of the language — I’ve learned mostly food terms, or course. Necessities first!

Well, tomorrow we’re taking the “Pannenkoekenboot,” (the Pancake Boat) on which you pay to get an unlimited supply of Dutch pancakes of different flavors. Do you know anyone who would appreciate that more than me? I don’t!

Love and hugs to all,

Melia

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