Twelve Years a Resident, Fourteen Years Away

Memory and the Reason for Writing

Fourteen years begin to tell you how dull the memory really is. I suppose that is why we write things down, and probably why this blog exists as a journal of stories and experiences.

My visit to Amsterdam, both impromptu and incognito, was for the single purpose of maintaining the status of a loyalty scheme; one that gives benefits and privileges money might buy, but at a higher cost.

My preference was Paris, but Brian adamantly withstood me, fully expressing his concern for my safety, and only he could know why.

Returning After Many Years

I was tempted to let people I knew through my Holland odyssey, which began in May 2000 and ran for the twelve years I called the Netherlands home, in on the visit. To think I found a hotel in Hoofddorp, where I started my first job with AUCS Infonet 26 years ago, is quite something. I was charged city tax; Hoofddorp is over 10 miles as the crow flies from Amsterdam.

Back then, I lived in Amsterdam and commuted out to Hoofddorp by train each morning; now, all these years later, I was sleeping in the very town I once travelled out to. So much has changed, and yet other things remain the same.

Arriving in Amsterdam yesterday, I made for the public library that opened on the 7th of July 2007, intending to have a meal at Vapiano, not knowing they had closed their business in the Netherlands the year before.

Then I thought to walk up to my old apartment block in the Oostelijke Havengebied, the eastern docklands. The flat, which I bought in November 2001 and sold on the 1st of May 2012 when I handed the keys over to the new owner, was on the 7th floor and overlooked two stretches of water: IJhaven and Eersthaven.

These harbours separated my building from Java-eiland and KNSM-eiland, the two long, narrow islands that, together with my side, make up the regenerated docklands.

The Lessons Wasted on Youth

The funny thing is, for all the ten and a half years I lived there, I never once walked from the city centre. I took the tram, the bus, or rode my bicycle. If only I had known the benefits of walking back then, but this kind of knowledge is wasted on youth.

I did not have a flood of memories when I got there, but soon enough, a resident from way back then wheeled out from the garage. We both had a moment of recognition and greeted each other.

That was enough; my plan to attend my old church on Sunday was now under review, as I wondered whether I could handle the emotional overload of so many reunions. I honestly was not prepared for that.

A City Subtly Changed

Tram numbers had changed. What was once Tram 10, which had not yet been built when I first moved there, is now Tram 1. Tram 25 to IJburg is now Tram 26, with the terminus moved to the back of the central station, on the IJ River side.

Then another face I recognised, still looking good, not weathered by time and deserving of a compliment, which I gave liberally. The things you think you remember, only to realise that your memory is a bit jaded.

Even so, all these encounters encourage the recollections of people, events, and ideas that made those times significant in their different ways. For instance, I sent a message to an old friend whom I had once helped pick out gilets and outfits for his wedding, drawing on my familiarity with the outfitters around Amsterdam and my comfort with formal wear.

We had gone shopping together on Nieuwendijk, one of the city's oldest shopping streets, running north from Dam Square towards the Central Station.

Walking the Singel

Today, I went looking for a restaurant on the Singel, thinking it was further down the canal. I had walked all the way in the opposite direction before retracing my steps, only to find it was nearer the central station after all, and that I needn't have taken the tram in the first place.

After my breakfast, which had Danish bacon as it should be, but hash browns as something else entirely, I set out on a small adventure into the past. My first residence had been in the Jordaan, where I rented from June 2000 until November 2001, when I moved to the apartment I had bought in the eastern docklands.

The Jordaan place was a large garage converted into a one-bedroom apartment with two separate toilets, on Palmstraat. It was all unrecognisable now; even the old had been seriously gentrified.

The Indignities of Travel

You could easily be housebound in Amsterdam, as I saw no disabled toilets. The public toilets at the central station charged a hefty €1.10, which is just unforgivable, and there were no staff on hand to help out with failed automation. But that was yesterday.

There was a time when wearing glasses was considered a grave disability, so much so that once laser surgery for corrective eyesight became widespread, the Dutch were beating a path to every practitioner offering the service.

On toilet anxiety, today was worse, as I was far from any known facilities, and the accident happened. By the time I eventually found a toilet, my underwear had to be binned. We suffer in silence, hiding the shame that cannot be avoided because of nature or affliction. Yet we must live life as best we can, for that is the better story.

The Living Existence of a Life Story

I can boldly say Amsterdam is not about the lost, but the living existence of a life story; visited by adversity and failure, but blessed by the gift of life, the promise of a bright future, and undying hope that makes every travail transient.

Beyond my expectations, there was even an ocean liner at the passenger terminal. So much for reducing seafaring tourism; the reality bites harder than ideas in a council meeting with harebrained resolutions.

The old lady of green politics in the Netherlands of the days of yore is the mayor of Amsterdam. Femke Halsema, I doff my hat. Respect!

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Coronavirus streets between continents - LXVIII

It is still here

One statistic that rarely makes the news these days is the number of COVID-19 infections anywhere, back home in the UK, through countries that one does transit and now in South Africa where I will be for a month. When I left the UK last week, the rate of infections was rising, and the government website provides figures of 116,312 new cases in the 7 days to the 26^th of June 2022.

Every indication would suggest this dreadful virus is not beyond us, even for the fully vaccinated and boosted, the risk remains and so precautions are necessary which I barely see anyone adhere to. On my flight from Manchester to Amsterdam, there were a handful of face mask wearers. Apart from when I needed a sip of water, I had my face mask on the whole time.

Carefree and without

On the Amsterdam to Cape Town leg of about 11 hours, whilst it was advised we don face masks, it was neither enforced nor announced. Left to their devices, a majority chose not to wear a face mask for the entire flight, in my case, I was not ready to take the risk except for the times I had drinks and meals.

I was first to disembark the plane in Cape Town and first through health checks and passport control, and until during the Ebola virus times, there was no one standing around with a temperature gun, life has returned to uneasy normalcy that is as daring and it could be foolhardy.

On one Uber ride the driver half remonstrated that face masks were optional, we did not need to wear face masks, I would rather not have the option of getting infected in the remotest way, so I keep my face mask on and more times than not, I am the strange looking one because I have my face covered and everyone else is happily without.

No courting danger

Seeing that I have just come through a bout of flu after my arrival in Cape Town that took me out of effective ability to do much for myself, talk less of anyone else, much that I desired to attend church on Sunday, I was not up to it. The face mask is a temporary inconvenience and I have more than enough in supply to last months.

In my view, we still need to be careful, people who have had COVID-19 though mild in their symptoms have not had the kind of recovery that represents a complete eradication of the effects of the virus, I would rather err on the side of caution than walk bare-chested into the lion’s den of a raging pandemic. We have to learn to live with COVID-19, but smartly too.

From Prides of the past to the future

Prides without marches

June is considered the Pride Month even though my local pride in Manchester is one of the last in the Europe, taking place in the last weekend of August that includes the last Monday as part of the August Bank Holiday in the UK.

I normally will only attend a Pride march but rarely the other activities, in Manchester, I only have to step out of my front door with a foldable chair to watch the march go past on my street. Berlin offers a better spectacle in July as I take a room in the Hotel Berlin Berlin that overlooks the march from at least the first floor. I might go to the Siegessäule or the Brandenburg Gate to see the performances for a few hours before departing for some quiet time.

Prides around Europe

Until last year, I had not missed a Berlin Pride usually known as the Christopher Street Day (CSD) in German-speaking countries in recognition of the Stonewall riots of 1969, except one other time in at least 12 years. It was like a pilgrimage of at least 4 days, sometimes longer, allowing me to do other things besides.

When I lived in Amsterdam, we celebrated in the first weekend of August, the Pride march on canal boats, I never vied to get on any of the boats because it was at least a 4-hour slug, however, it was always good to have a vantage position to view the colourful floats as they moved along with music blaring out of megawatt loudspeakers ready to deafen you.

At one time, I was in Playa del Ingles on the island of Gran Canaria, their Pride is usually the second weekend of May. Unfortunately, most of the Prides would be cancelled this year, about 500 on one count, some will be adapted to take place online as digital Pride events. [See link below.]

Prides of the future

In June 2016, I joined up with the Barclays team called Spectrum for the London Pride which we were a main sponsor of, it was the first time I had walked in a Pride march in the UK apart from being a spectator or going to park activities after the parade.

I cannot say what the world would become after the pall of this pandemic is lifted, the way we would manage crowds and marches for all sorts of celebrations and how life might change between the consideration of risk and damning the consequences. However, I hope that in the aftermath, we would all celebrate our common and diverse humanity.

There is a Pride march in the not too distant future that my husband and I would participate in, marriage is on the cards; it would be the joy of our lives for Brian and I to pose and say to the world, Happy Pride Month.

Pride Month: List Of LGBT Digital Pride Events As 500 Prides Cancel Amid Coronavirus - Forbes

The European Pride Organisers Association – COVID-19

A score years from Amsterdam

Arrival Schiphol

Twenty years ago, today was a Saturday, I had packed a suitcase, left for the airport and boarded a flight to Amsterdam. At Schiphol Airport, Dick van Galen Last, now deceased, who I had met in Paris some 3 years before was waiting to collect me having offered to give me boarding for as long as it took to find my feet.

Thus, began my over 12-year sojourn in the Netherlands, the culmination of a series of events that began in January 1999 when a relationship of almost 7 years came to an end. It presaged a turbulent year of career upheavals, house moves, job changes, and a period of interesting adventure.

I was in London, having gone back to work in Ipswich where I rebased myself for 6 months thinking things had changed in my head from the 3 years before, but I learnt that situation was not a solution to turmoil. The job I took up was not offering the fulfilment I had hoped for and so I resigned as the end of November, just at the cusp of the Millennium, depending on where you place it.

Mid-life marauding

In the New Year, I returned to my original lodgings in London and found that the search for work was fraught with difficulty, applications going out by the truckload, responses returning by the trickle and interviews rarely leading to offers. That was when John Coll, also deceased, suggested I see an occupational psychotherapist.

We met for a chat in Central London whilst I relayed what my circumstances were. His view was that I was doing quite well even if I was not getting the results I wanted. It was also a difficult realisation of having gone through probably half a million pounds in earnings without having much to show for it. There are two things I took away from our conversation, that I was going through a mid-life crisis a decade early and the need to change something radically in my life, location, career, or purpose.

A romance in Europe

That set me on the quest to look for work outside the UK, something I was quite reticent to consider for years. In that same conversation, I was informed that Belgium, Germany and The Netherlands presented the best choices for opportunities. Soon, I was on a flight to Munich for an interview with Compaq, I was not as forward-looking as was expected, I dismissed Intellisense in its infancy as bunkum. I stayed in Munich for a week, it was just before the Dot-Com bubble burst, how I tried to persuade a stockbroker in a Munich sauna to cash out as if I was that prescient.

Back in the UK, I scored an interview, it was conducted at the office of a recruitment agency where set questions were posed to us and the whole charade recorded on video for the customer to review in a team of technicians before selecting those they thought knowledgeable enough. I got the job and was commuting the Reading whilst still looking at prospects on mainland Europe.

A clean break

For the first time ever, I was in a shift pattern of work, 12-hour days every 4 days and 2 days off. The pay was not close to my peak, but the hours made up for it. In the second week of taking the role, I heard back from a prospect in Amsterdam, they wanted a face-to-face interview and as luck would have it, it fell on the days I was off. I took an EasyJet flight to Amsterdam, attended the interview and returned the next day when my laptop suffered a battering at the hands of baggage handlers.

I have not flown EasyJet since then. On my return, I received an offer for the job in Amsterdam. On having a conversation with my manager in Reading, we decided on a quick and clean break, it was fine with me. I hated the work environment, people were promoted beyond their capabilities to manage the team, it was cliquey and toxic, I was glad to be shot of the place.

That is how I began the Dutch phase of my life history, it would be one of the best decisions I ever made; the opportunity to begin again, make a new life, find new friends, and live new experiences. Much as I tried, my conversational Dutch was poor, I became an Englishman abroad.

Thought Picnic: Being merry on the ferry

Decisions

I finally decided I will travel to Amsterdam late yesterday afternoon rather than postpone once again the appointment I should have had with my medical consultant last month.

In December, one is met with all sorts of choices and the variables are cost, weather and ease of travel. Now, I have at various times used all the forms of travel available between London and Amsterdam by air, by coach, by train and by sea.

The queen’s itinerary

The last time I did the sea crossing was in the summer of 99 when I embarked on a tour of Europe with what was sold as the Imperial Tour and it was London - Budapest - London to be completed within 2 months stopping anywhere along the way for as long as I wanted within that time frame.

I did Amsterdam, Hannover, Berlin, Dresden, Prague, Bratislava, Budapest, Vienna, Salzburg, Innsbruck, Zurich and Brussels, by which time I was no more ready to endure travelling by sea that I took the EuroStar back to London.

I should do it again and get my pictures onto Flickr with blogs of my experiences and insights about all those cities. I think everyone should try an eye-opening voyage of discovery more than once and just take in the beauty of nature, the people, their culture and something new.

Like deja vu

So, back at the Liverpool Street Station ticket office like I did well over a decade ago, I met this helpful lady who told me the choices I had to make between day travel and night travel along with asking if I needed a cabin.

The journey appears to be longer this time, I remember then it was a catamaran that covered the journey from Harwich to Hoek van Holland in 3:45 hours, this time it would be 7 hours and maybe I should have gotten a cabin, but I later got a cabin on the ferry from much less and as a single occupier.

Setting out

I had to catch the 6:38 from Liverpool Street Station which meant I was up from 4:45AM, when I got to Harwich International, the station platform was hardly 500 yards from the ferry itself.

I was waved through, the security checks were hardly fussy, a cursory look into my rucksack - I notice this is the lightest I have ever travelled - none of the crude and music-less stripper acts that we perform at airports, the passport checks without menacing apparatchiks and the baggage check-in done almost too easily for words.

I was beginning to like this as I boarded the ferry, looked around and found a seat. I had bought an inflatable neck pillow; the seats are rarely built to support the neck if you doze off.

Connect to the skies

It was nice to know that one could use wireless internet connectivity on a satellite uplink throughout the journey, it would be slow and multimedia content will be blocked but there was enough bandwidth to surf, use Twitter and send emails.

One should as a matter of course avoid use the exorbitantly priced Mobile Maritime roaming network except in an emergency.

Having not slept that well overnight, I decided on getting a portside cabin. The word posh is apparently an acronym used for passages to India where the well-heeled travelled Portside Out and Starboard Home, if you travelled 'soph' which is by no means an abbreviation of sophisticated you were on the hottest side of the ship because that side faced the sun on the way out and the way back.

In the winter though, on the North Sea, you probably want to get as much light and sun as you can get.

The rest betters the rest

I repaired to my cabin which had a good sized bed, en-suite toilet and shower, a television with a mix of Dutch and English channels, sockets to charge my devices and wireless internet if I needed it.

I must say, apart from the passage of time and it is long, the basic comforts of travelling by ferry beat all the offerings you can have by air which is the shortest in time but most stressful to endure, by train which is longer and quite expensive, by coach which is probably longest in time, cheapest in cost but I will say from experience the most uncomfortable.

Easy for me and easy for her

Taking a shower, I noticed that the showerhead was a Hans Grohe raindance fixture and being cognisant of the tragedy that befell a 46-year old due to overexertion doing the Gangnam Style dance, I wisely moved as carefully and with as minimal exertion as possible, I just let the shower rain on me.

Let us put all disputing aside, I might just take to travelling by ferry on what seems to the calmest of seas I have been on in a very long time. This, my friends is fun and I just made friends with a toddler who is so excited to be travelling to meet her grandparents for Christmas, we all know that air travel is at best tortuous for our really young ones.

We have arrived.

C3 Encounters 2012 Conference: Day 1

How it began

We kicked off our C3 Encounters 2012 conference in Amsterdam to much funfare and activity with a great praise and worship session that soon moved into a time of prayer for Europe led by Pastors Simon and Valerie McIntyre who are the C3 Directors for Europe.

Pastors from sister churches around Europe were called to pray in their native tongues and we were given historical perspectives of German influence on European Christianity that gave birth to the Reformation movement through Martin Luther, the Swiss and Calvinism, the Dutch and the New Zealanders who feature strongly in our movement through Abel Janszoon Tasman and much more.

We heard prayers in German, then in French – In fact, I have never heard anyone pray in French, it was moving, I was overcome and then in Bulgarian for the Balkans, for Scandinavia and for all other European nations.

Making disciples – Pastor Simon McIntyre

The first session then had Pastor Simon McIntyre preach from the text of Matthew 28:18-20 where he stressed that disciples were made and not found, highlighting the fact that the seeds for church growth were in the local church itself but they had to be developed. We were to look for what was within and amongst us using that to grow our local churches.

He then extended the command to baptise through immersion to immersing people in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, immersing people in the word of God, immersing them into our lives through modelling the word and thereby being an example to others.

Disciples are chosen

Disciples, he said are chosen by reason of leaders identifying faithfulness or giftedness, it is usually incidental and it involves building on that identified potential.

There is a tough love aspect of making disciples, it is direct, strong, loving and confronting – good disciples respond well to rebuke and it works best when passed from generation to generation.

The lesson to take away from this message was the goal of a good leader is to see potential in others and work on making new leaders by example, deed, lifestyle and conduct.

The extraordinary in the ordinary – Pastor Steve Warren

The host pastor, Pastor Steve Warren took on the second session with a message titled – Recovering the extraordinary in the ordinary.

He exhorted us to have a childlike expectation of the extraordinary in the ordinary, working on text from the Acts of Apostles 2:38-47. A case of ordinary people who being empowered by the Holy Spirit sent to them on Pentecost suddenly performed the extraordinary; speaking in different tongues and adding 3000 followers at the first event.

He illustrated the concept better when narrating the tale of Syrophoenician woman who came to Jesus seeking healing for her daughter. She was at first ignored, then told He only came to save the Jews and went on to tell her it was not right to toss the children’s bread to dogs to which she responded the dogs do get to eat the children’s crumbs under the table – with that she got what she wanted.

Crumbs are as good as the loaf

However, the context was that she did not see the ordinariness of the crumbs but was able to rationalise that whatever was in the crumbs also came from the loaf of bread and therefore was just as good as having the loaf.

He said, “The level of your hunger will determine the level of the extraordinary that will happen in your life.”

Praise, he said opens the gates of heaven to the extraordinary and he exhorted us to give thanks in everything according to I Thessalonians 5:18. Other text references he used in his sermon in relation to the usefulness and efficacy of praise and thanksgiving in creating the extraordinary from ordinary circumstances included Psalms 100:4; Psalms 95:2, Ephesians 5:20 & Psalms 34:1.

The Power of Commitment – Pastor Peter Paauwe

Pastor Peter Paauwe, a guest preacher continued from where Pastor Steve Warren left off with a message titled "The Power of Commitment."

He started by saying that problems and challenges are our stepping stones to breakthroughs.

Then he based his text on the narrative in I Samuel 30:1-15, the story being, David returned home to find that his city had been raided and razed with families of both himself and his men taken captive, though they were unsure of what had befallen them.

Pastor Peter made a number of assertions that prayer does not move God but that God is constant, unchanging and is always committed to us. However, prayer can allow us to change our perspectives radically to see and appreciate God’s cause for us.

As David and his men realised what had happened, the story says these mighty warriors wept sore until they had no strength and got to the point where they laid the blame of their predicament on David and were ready to stone him.

We were to reflect on the number of times were we met with adversity and looking for people, issues, situations and even God to blame for deserting us in our time of need.

Count your blessings

David however took a different tack, he strengthen himself by encouraging himself in the Lord, that is, he recognised the many times God had been good to him – in modern parlance, he counted his blessings reassuring himself of God’s commitment to his cause.

II Chronicles 16:9 says, “The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.”

The context of commitment suggests a heart at rest, a heart at peace and a heart confident in God rather than in panic, frustration and turmoil. We have to be fully trusting in God.

He said, “Our problems say nothing about how God is committed to us.”

The text goes on to say David enquired of the Lord if he should go after those who raided his city and he was told to go and he would without fail recover all.

Act decisively and promptly

The pastor then said God does not speak in long sentences and the opportunity to take advantage of a word from God is only there for a season.

Case in point was when the Israelites were refused to step forward to take the Promised land at the first opportunity and judgement was visited upon them that they roamed the wilderness for 40 years before a new opportunity to possess the land.

In essence, we need to be decisive, prompt to act, maintain a spirit of compassion for within our doing right and doing good might lay the solution to the once insurmountable problem.

A fleeting moment of opportunity

They found an Egyptian who for three days and three nights had not taken food nor drink and he had been left for dead because he took ill and as it transpired when he was brought to David, he was fed and watered. On recovery and interrogation, it was discovered he was a servant to the people who raided the city, he knew what they had done and where they had gone.

The lesson here was that God’s keys to our solutions usually appear weak, for instance, another day of waiting, grieving or being inconsiderate would have had the Egyptian die with David and his men none the wiser as to how to obtain a fulfilment of God’s promise that they will recover all.

He averred that, “All the power of God is displayed in the weakest things.”

We need to be committed to compassion, committed to people and committed to recognising God’s commitment to us and it is in making that a lifestyle that we can obtain our breakthrough.

The offertory – Pastor Thierry Moehr

Before the evening message, Pastor Thierry Moehr from C3 Lausanne shared from Isaiah 54:2 for the offertory.

“Enlarge the place of thy tent, and let them stretch forth the curtains of thine habitations: spare not, lengthen thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes.”

He said we have an invitation from God to live a big life, we are all extendable but God can only take the space we give Him.

We need to give God the chance to be a big God in our lives and that can only come about when we decrease ourselves to let God increase. It is about stretching, extending, sacrifice and letting go, all that allows for God to do what he is good at – being God.

Forgiveness and healing – Pastor Phil Pringle

The final session of the day came with Pastor Phil Pringle, the leader and founder of the C3 organisation preaching from Luke 5:17.

“Now it happened on a certain day, as He was teaching that there were Pharisees and teachers of the law sitting by, who had come out of every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was present to heal them.”

He preached the gospel of grace signifying who and what we are in Christ is not as a result of what we have done but by reason of our taking on what Christ had done for us.

Conversely, the learned scholars of the law could not comprehend the essence of Colossians 1:21-22 “And you, who once were alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now He has reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy, and blameless, and above reproach in His sight.”

It is accepting the sacrifice of Christ that allows us to be presented holy, blameless, and above reproach in the sight of God.

Achievement is the work of many

Then using the passage of Luke 5:17-26 he expatiated on how the power of God to heal was of no benefit to the scholars who had crowded out the place such that those who believed the power of God might help their paralytic friend had to find alternative ways to get to Jesus.

He assigned roles to the four friends of the paralytic; Leader (Had the idea that Jesus could heal his friend and proposed all the strategies to get to Jesus.), Helper (Joined in to follow the leader in what he had to do.), Intercessor (Arranged for the bed to convey their friend.) and Evangelist (Persuaded their friend to get in the bed to be carried to where Jesus was.)

In setting out this scenario, he said no one could achieve their full potential without the help of others stressing that unity is the place of power and the fulfilment of any destiny in the church is done in the context of connections and relationships with others.

Forgiveness presages healing

Having found they could gain no access to Jesus they let the man down through the rooftop having removed the tiles and the story says, Jesus saw their faith and then addressed the man that his sins were forgiven and thereby he was healed. [Note that it is the faith of the four friends Jesus saw in ministering to the paralytic - sometimes we need a helping hand to access the free mercies of God.]

As the scholars questioned what Jesus had done reasoning with their hearts about how he could forgive sin, the man who had believed with his heart that his sins were forgiven picked up his bed and walked.

One notable statement Pastor Phil made was that, “People are attracted to a non-judgemental environment.”

He developed this by saying, “Unforgiveness lies at the root of many people’s illnesses,” and that “forgiveness and healing almost always go together.”

As he shared a story of forgiveness and healing he said there are three main blockages to forgiveness.

• Not accepting forgiveness from God.
• Not accepting forgiveness from others.
• Not forgiving oneself.

He closed by calling people forward to be prayed for.

Conclusion

It was a very busy day, well organised and everything seemed to work as planned, I am sure most attendees were mightily blessed and all this was just on the first day of the conference. There is excitement in the air.

C3 Encounters 2012 is on a roll.

Grounded By The Heart of Worship

An altered Sunday

On Sunday, just as I was about to step out of church I was co-opted into a prayer meeting of the Outreach Team; a group of quite highly exuberant people with infectious enthusiasm for proselytising and inviting people to church events.

The event this time was called Heart of Worship, a gathering of youths and young adults with ages ranging from 11 to 29 years old.

I did not plan on proselytising and after the meeting just as I rode my bicycle home, I took a detour to the South-East of Amsterdam with the hope that one of those African shops will not have kept the Sabbath – I never expected to find one open but I surprisingly did and with that got a few choice items for my nostalgic palate.

An unusual venue

Heart of Worship was to start at 18:00 and though it uses a venue just 3 minutes by bicycle from my home, I have never attended the event, but this time I just dared.

As I arrived at Pakhuis de Zwijger, a warehouse that had been converted into a multi-purpose venue with part of it hollowed out in the middle to offer access to a detachable vehicular bridge, I could already hear the sound of loud music.

The hall was dimly lit, the music loud and the performance of the band a lot different from the conventional antics at church. The music was also quite unfamiliar but full of meaning and feeling as I realised how stuffy, groan up and grown up I had become amongst that many who were closer to nephews, nieces and children if I had ever been a parent than siblings.

Adjusting to difference

In any case, I did still try to soak in the atmosphere even though I did not find myself gesticulating as if I were at a hip-hop concert at the instigation of the singers. I need to loosen up a bit for all this jumping, revelling and high-fives, but I have apparently been slaughter at the altar of respectability.

To my observation, I noticed how much talent is reposed in the youth of our church much of which finds no expression in the main church services in their musicality and absence of inhibition which appears to be curtailed by the formal settings of organised programmes and groan ups like me.

They all gained my respect with the way they used their voices as they switched between instruments with ease and one performance had a new solo singer, a worship singer take the keyboard, a keyboardist take the guitar and the drummer squatting on what I later found out was an Afro-Peruvian cajón – genius!

After the singing, dancing and clapping, there was some teaching based on the story of Hannah, the mother of Samuel who later became the prophet who anointed David for the position of king of the Israelites, taken from the 1^st Chapter of the First book of Samuel.

The message showed how people can be frustrated by the successes of others who can use their good fortune to denigrate those who have not been as fortunate. How desperation and desire can concentrate the mind on a goal, how the dedication of that desire to service can bring needed help and the wonderful testimony that can come out of having not just answers to particular prayers but much beyond that too.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that a message from the pulpit can be of great significance to all, from the fully liberated to the reserved – the heart beats to a rhythm of life seeking solutions, respite, succour and peace regardless of who embodies that heart.

I was truly blessed, but will I ditch the cravat and brogues for a less demure and more casual appearance at the next Heart of Worship? Time will tell.

A library of society

The library

Getting a place to sit in the magnificent Amsterdam Public Library [1] is not an easy task especially when you arrive in the early afternoon.

The library offers free wireless internet access after registration; there are banks of computers on most floors with Apple iMacs and Windows PCs, a restaurant on the ground floor and the one the 7^th is a buffet restaurant of ingredients that get cooked for you after selection.

It is serious as it is social with seven floors, there is no doubt that the examinations season is round the corner, I have seen similar copies of high school examination preparation materials on desks as students swot and sometimes cram to get the best scores.

The people

Literally everyone one of them has a laptop, most of them are Apple iBooks but you can see other popular brands too. One even had an iPad and as he typed away at the screen, I thought about the luxury of fads without the feedback of clicking keys.

Everyone seemed to have one musical device of the other and the headphones were probably best suited for a recording studio, I doubt any were listening to anything classical.

Their scientific calculators are huge; it makes you wonder what new calculations have entered the curriculum since I left high school 3 decades ago.

The culture

They quite conveniently ignore library decorum especially when groups of friends band together in discussion that rarely pertains to the purpose for which they have come to the library.

Indeed social development is just as important as educational prowess, many people form their life-long networks from their teens and that matters a lot amongst the Dutch.

I have many a time lamented the fact that the Dutch with all their tolerance rarely have a social circle that extends beyond that which they formed since year dot. The ones that do in most cases have really broken free from the structure and plunge themselves into other settings by reason of having travelled and lived in other countries or also acquired for themselves foreign partners.

The annoyance

Yesterday evening there was a rather raucous group at my reading table who at one time reckoned they were being a nuisance when I looked up. However, some 20 minutes after, a particular lady who just could not keep it low got to me.

I banged my fists of the table in exasperation, reminded them they were in a library, conceded they needed to have discussions but admonished them to be considerate.

Now, I was not against their communicating but it fell completely silent and they appeared to self-censure each other when the decibel level rose and eventually they left.

The inconsiderate

Whilst I was minded to get the staff to deal with them, I felt it was important to gauge their reaction to my protest before seeking additional help.

Again, in settings like this, one is not sure if they will take kindly to being told off, some people just cannot bear to be told to exercise a modicum of civility.

In the end, not an apology was offered, not that it mattered, and the expectation of good manners will always leave me utterly disappointed.

Sources

[1] Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam

Amsterdam Public Library – Facts and Figures

Cunard Queen Elizabeth in Amsterdam

One look out of my window

A wonderful child-like excitement engulfs my being as I look out of my living-room window towards the left towards the Amsterdam Passenger Terminal.

The late spring and summer months present a spectacle of visitations on the waters that form the harbours of the old Amsterdam port from the sailing school just below my window through the open waters that host the sailing regattas and the then further on where it is deep enough to float ocean going cruise liners.

Satisfying my curiosity

Yesterday, in fact, the day before, there was a huge cruise liner docked at the terminal, I had to see it up close so I cycled up the embankment with my camera to take a few pictures.

That was not enough to observe the cruise liner in all its splendour, I needed to know when it was setting sail again so I for the first time stepped into the terminal and asked at the information desk when it was leaving.

The scheduled time was in another 24 hours at about 17:00 hours, so when I returned home I went online to the check the Cruise Calendar [1] and found out it would be an hour later.

Setting sail

So, yesterday evening, I rode out to see the cruise liner leave and it quite a ceremony weighing anchor that took about 15 minutes and then another 30 minutes to turn the bow astern to sail out of Amsterdam.

It was quite windy and there was a chill in the air as I took pictures from many vantage points and even planned to race the liner to the point where it finally sailed out of Amsterdam and the chain on my bicycle broke just as got behind the central train station which fortunately had a bicycle repair shop in the front.

It was worth it

My pursuit ended with the wheeling of my bicycle to the shop with the hope that I will see the cruise liner when next it docks in Amsterdam.

It was the Cunard Queen Elizabeth [2] with 12 decks that measured the height of 9 storey building, it has a length of 964.5 feet (294m), a width of 106 feet (32.3m) and a draft of 25.9 feet (7.9m) – the draft is the ship’s depth below the water.

We should expect at least 20 cruise liner dockings every month until September with Queen Elizabeth returning later this month and then in October, meanwhile there will be a lot to see until then.

This is my slideshow of pictures taken.

Sources

[1] Passenger Terminal Amsterdam – Cruise Calendar

[2] Queen Elizabeth Cruise Liner Facts : Luxury Cruise Ships : Cunard Cruise Line

Maison Tropicale film in Amsterdam

Meeting Jeremy Weate

I had the pleasure of meeting Jeremy Weate of http://naijablog.co.uk on Thursday on his visit to Amsterdam to attend an event organised by the Prince Claus Fund [1], a charity named for the late consort of Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands and the African Architecture Matters [2] organisation.

Jeremy has a doctorate in philosophy, has lived in Nigeria since 2004; a veritable commentator on Nigerian affairs who has probably more than many indigenous Nigerians travelled the length and breath of Nigeria, seeing lots of unappreciated sites national importance, heritage and culture whilst running together with his wife a publishing outfit called Cassava Republic Press [3].

I dare say, Jeremy has almost unchallengeable claims to being quite Nigerian and for his birthday present just about a month ago desired having his own Nigerian passport – the irony was not lost on the fact that many with a Nigerian heritage could not see why he would cherish such an association whilst they had rejected theirs by exercising rights to other nationalities but Nigerian.

Jeremy was one of the founding proprietors of the Nigerian Next newspaper [4] which has a well visited online presence, he has since left that company to concentrate on other progressive and development ventures in Nigeria.

In any case, I received an Facebook message from Jeremy that he was coming to my city, I could not miss the opportunity to meet him, so I offered to meet him at the airport and help him round the city to his hotel, the venue of the event and possibly a vegan restaurant – we ended up at an Indonesian restaurant where we were well catered for addressing our opposite palates with tasty cuisine.

Modernist architecture and the Maison Tropicale narrative

The event Jeremy was attending brought together elements of colonialism and modernist architecture in a film featuring Ângela Ferreira [5] called Maison Tropicale [6] directed by Professor Manthia Diawara [7]; a perspective of prefabricated architecture prototypes of aluminium by Jean Prouvé [8] built in Niger and Congo Brazzaville between 1949 and 1951.

These buildings after much neglect and enticement coupled with collusion of African government officials were dismantled in 2000, refurbished, reassembled and put on display in London with permanent exhibits at the top of the Georges Pompidou Centre in Paris and in New York where the one from Congo Brazzaville sold at auction for almost $5 million [9] in 2007.

The programme [10] for the evening at De Brakke Grond [11] included an introduction by Manthia Diawara launching his new book , African Film: New Forms of Aesthetics and Politics [12]; the screening of his film, Maison Tropical after which there was an open discussion with Manthia Diawara and Joe Osae Addo; a Ghanaian architect of international renown.

It was so easy to miss the import of the film and the issues covered because the obvious reference to modernist architecture and interest in architecture and the work of Jean Prouvé could easily have masked the societal, cultural, heritage and contemporary attitudes to things we should treasure but fail to appreciate – those matters I would address in a series of Maison Tropicale narrative blogs besides this one.

Afterwards, I met with lots of people from all backgrounds, many architects, had my copy of Manthia Diawara’s book signed by the author himself and found that I was not that much a dabhand at networking as Jeremy was. It was a fine evening and was glad to have been there.

Sources

[1] Prince Claus Fund for Culture and Development

[2] African Architecture Matters

[3] Cassava Republic Press - feeding the African imagination

[4] NEXT: latest news, sport and views from Nigeria

[5] Ângela Ferreira – MAISON TROPICALE / e-flux

[6] Jean Prouvé - La Maison Tropicale - Presented by André Balazs

[7] Manthia Diawara - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[8] Jean Prouvé - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

[9] The Prouvé Prototype Maison Tropicale Sold for $4,968,000 at Christie's | Home | Art Knowledge News

[10] AAMatters, Invitation for an evening with Manthia Diawara and Joe Osae Addo

[11] Brakke Grond - English - Language no problem

[12] Amazon.com: African Film: New Forms of Aesthetics and Politics (9783791343426): Manthia Diawara

Youtube references

YouTube - Angela Ferreira on her film project the Maison Tropicale

YouTube - La Maison Tropicale

YouTube - Jean Prouvé – 3D Animation construction of La Maison Tropicale

La Maison Tropicale Series

Maison Tropicale film in Amsterdam

Deconstructing Maison Tropicale - Introduction

Maison Tropicale - Ownership

Maison Tropicale - Heritage

Maison Tropicale - Corrupt enterprise

Maison Tropicale - Grand Projects

Night cycling

The nostalgia of food

The fact is nostalgia runs thick when you have left home for another place. The degree to which you might feel nostalgia might however differ for all sorts of people.

Whilst I have no particular inclination to return to Nigeria, I do enjoy Nigerian food that I either get to cook for myself or order from the gradually improving Obalade Suya in Amsterdam South which seems to have exceeded the African Kitchen in organisation, sophistication and sense of service by far – they even have a website.

Also there is fare from England that you cannot find in Amsterdam supermarkets, from the ordinary things like sliced white bread, through certain cereals and then pork pies amongst other goods – teas, biscuits, puddings, soups to name but a few.

The British shop (Absolutely British) in Amsterdam moved to Amstelveen over a year ago and I usually get there by tram and metro, a journey taking about 45 minutes.

Getting the bike out

This time, I thought I would get on my bicycle and ride out there, the estimated distance using Google Maps was about 11 kilometres from my home but that was using the pedestrian calculation, the journey by car could not be afforded bicycles and the directions by bicycles have not been fully integrated.

So, I thought I had to go due West, then due South keeping a general idea of Amsterdam’s cartography in my head, I did not really miss a turn though I could have made my journey more efficient.

I avoided a mishap where a car that had passed the traffic lights but had been caught in a tailback that was at an intersection, the road cleared in front of the car just when the traffic lights gave me right of way and it was just half a metre from broken bones or a dented bonnet.

The journey took just short of an hour and the ride was leisurely enough not to leave me panting and I stocked up on home goods.

The sleight of lights

On my return journey I got to a sign pointing to Amsterdam Centre but in opposite directions, to the right I could have a river-view ride with less vehicular traffic but it was getting dark.

I pedalled gaining a rhythm that was not too exhausting but met with my pet peeves again and again, the lawless cyclists of Amsterdam.

I would that the police conducted more checks on cyclists at traffic lights who ignore the signs and most especially the ones that ride at night without lights.

It was bad enough that you could not see oncoming bicycles approaching at speed or those coming up from behind so as to take them into consideration, then there were the ones in front who rode oblivious of other road users without high-visibility clothing.

Rules for cyclists broken

The worst situation was with cyclists riding up the wrong way without giving way to those who had right-of-way and I met up with many as I cursed under my breath at the irresponsibility and carelessness of the riders.

I remember that it was my care and concern from a lady cyclist in front of me on a foggy night without lights that held me up the day I got beaten up by drink-and-drug fuelled Moroccans.

It is utterly unacceptable but in Amsterdam cyclists ride as if there are no rules, no laws and they had right of way in all circumstances against cars and public transport.

There is this underlying vice of impatience that pushes them on, they just cannot been seen to stop but some to get stopped and wheeled away, then between the feelings of sympathy and indifference you realise that no matter how fast you are, you are not going beyond your destination – so why the rush?