EXCELLENT NIEUWS!!!! (that's news in Dutch)

Matt heard late yesterday that he somehow won a concession from the powers that be. Dun Dun duuuunnnnnn: We get to stay here, live in our apartment in Amstelveen until April 20th.

This came after I'd already torn everything off our walls, ransacked the cupboards and drawers, gave away what furniture we bought for this place, and said our goodbyes to our congregation... Now, thankfully, we get to not only be here in Amsterdam Zuidoost for the Memorial on April 9th, but we will also be here JUST long enough for Lanette to still be able to use her non-refundable ticket and visit us. So many people in the congregation told us that they'd be happy to play tour guide and host for her if we had to be gone, but we are all SOOOOOooooo happy that we get to be both hosts and tour guides as planned.

We are still mulling the very likely prospect of moving to Utah when we return to the states. Half an hour from great ski resorts, a lake you can't sink in, and average summer temperatures that stay under 90 on average... It's not looking so terrible. Although it will keep us a longer distance from our families, it's a whole lot easier to drive for a day, or to catch an hour long flight to see them than it is to visit from another continent. So, there's that.

We went out for a celebration curry dinner and Matt woke up with a full blown cough. No that the stress of not knowing what was going to happen has lifted, I think his body thinks it has permission to give into the bad weather cold that's going around here. I'm determined that he will be well enough to run by this Sunday. I am still convincing him :) The sunny sky of a few days ago has turned to 3 days of rain and wind. I thought the atmosphere was just providing weather that fit our mood...so, by now it should be sunny again, but it's still storming! Maybe the world doesn't revolve around me after all....huh...

Volendam and Egmond aan Zee

Upon hearing about our hasty departure, some of the people in the hall are trying to help us cram as much Netherlands culture in as we can in the short time left to us. Sunday after the meeting five friends from the congregation tried to take our minds off of our upcoming departure by taking us to see some of Holland's beauty. Even though we were both feeling despondent about our time here being cut so short, we (with the encouragement of our friends) determined to press on and pretend we're just out for a nice afternoon instead of dwelling on the depressing fact that it will be one of the last with these dear friends. The sun came out and tricked us into thinking it really is spring. By tricked I mean that later on we nearly froze to death walking back to the car :) Yup, still in Holland...

We first stopped in a fishing village called Volendam about half an hour east of us on what used to be part of the Zuiderzee, but is now the Markermeer. Basically, the natural inlet here has been closed off, and is classified as a huge salt water lake, instead of being the sea. We were told that the people born and raised here generally stay here all of their lives. It is only in recent times that people not born here have been allowed to buy houses and own property. Basically, they to view themselves as a separate culture to the rest of the Netherlands. They even speak a strongly accented dialect of Dutch unique to Volendam. When referring to the rivers of tourists that pour through every year, they include the Dutch inn general as foreigners.

Volendam is famous for it's fishing, and it's costumes. The clothing native to Volendam is what most of us outsiders consider to be typical Dutch, when in reality, the style wasn't really found outside of this town. We did our obligatory dress up picture with the Ploeger's, Sumiyo, Kuperus all dressed to match. We were trying to get an even more multi-cultural costume picture, but a lot of people from the congregation already had other obligations and couldn't make the trip with us. Regardless, I love this silly picture. I took a picture of our picture...The place has a stream lined dressing station set up. The hardest part is finding clogs (klompen, that is) that fit well enough that you don't fall over walking to the set. That and my dress had some serious B.O. issues. Naomi acquired a baby, and Matt had a pipe and a bottle of Bols gin thrust in his hand. Out of everyone I think only Rene and Robert look like they'd be comfortable doing a days work in this cumbersome getup. Yukiko, Sumiyo, and I look like tourists and Naomi's frames give away our modern era...I got a so-so picture of a really funny giant department store add of a modern woman in the same kind of outfit. Only, she had sexy makeup and her hair all done up tall on her head with one of these hats we're wearing in the picture but more curvy and back farther on her head, accented by a modern interpretation of the traditional coral necklace that signified the wealth of the wearer. I couldn't get a pic without a big reflection. It's funny how tightly people cling to traditions. I guess I do too...I traditionally can't stay put and have to keep moving countries.

While we were waiting for the photos to develop, we took a walk back along the water front to get a taste of Holland. We went to a cafe that had one side completely open to the sea. It's warm enough that people are sitting outside filling up the sidewalk tables. Only problem for me is that most of the outdoors people also smoke. I can't taste my food if I have to inhale their leftovers. So inside, we ordered beverages, and perused the menu. The didn't' seem to have traditional enough food to satisfy our tour guides, so we went back out to the street after our drinks, to find: Herring. Raw. With onions. I took a video of Matt tasting it first... he was all prepared to make a face, but it was actually really tasty. I'm never a fan of bones in my fish, but the old guy stationed at the end of the stand with his fast action boning knife was barely keeping up with the demand, so I didn't complain :) Sumiyo had a little more trouble with hers. She ordered kibbling which is a lot like fish and chips minus the chips. We were swapping bites of everything, and she looked like she wanted to spit out the bite of herring she tried from Matt. Naomi says you either love it or hate it. We were safely in the like it category, although, I won't put it on the list of things I can't wait to have again. On that list I have fresh mustard soup with smoked salmon in it, and stropwafles. And poffertijes. Can't spell it. Delicious, and uniquely Dutch.

Next up, Ploeger's and Sumiyo left us at Volendam, and Matt and I rode on with Kuperus to the "sea". We kind of thought we were already at the sea, but this time we were driving to the other side of Holland, and hitting the North Sea, as seen from a town called Egmond aan Zee, about another hour away. Matt was ready to go zombie, but the drive was kind of soothing. We drove through farmland and flower fields passing more typical Dutch windmills, extra furry little Shetland ponies, sheep with spring lambs in tow, and more birds than I could ever name, all framed in by canals.

You could see the town trying to break out of winter like a butterfly reaching to crack the cocoon. By the time we got there, the sun was starting to hid and the wind had kicked up, but it was still refreshing to have sand beneath our feet along the side of the main drag. We meandered through a few knick knack shops and perused the local landmarks, like the statue of old seaman Jacob Glas. We didn't walk out to the lighthouse, but it is a definite icon for this little town. We shared a "huh" moment with Kuperus when we showed them an Oregon brew in the towns liqueur purveyor: "dead guy ale" by Rogue Ales. Long way from home, Rogue.

We walked along the brick pathway, designed to look like waves underneath our feet, until bricks turned to sand, and sand turned to sea. By then the weather had really turned, and we spent mere minutes on the actual beach looking at the North Sea and picturing what this sleepy town would look like in summer time, full of tourists and noise. In a way, I like being here in it's down time better. I picked myself up an actual beach sea shell, as opposed to the kind you find laying around on any street in Amsterdam. We walked back towards the car, played some cross between rock-paper-scissors and heads or tails, and ended up stopping in to an Italian restaurant on the main drag for dinner. The did a great risotto, and we ended a long low key afternoon with a scoop of gelato and watched the wind whip things around out their big picture window until the check came.

Sudden Sadness

For those of you that haven't heard the latest twist in our lives, here goes.

Matt came home early a few days ago with the news that we are being called back to the states. The real gut buster is that we have 2 weeks to get gone. And just to keep things interesting, we won't be staying back in California, we'll be transferring to Utah with the rest of Matt's team. Salt Lake City to be exact. Who knew?

I've been taking pictures of the things we pass every day. These are the sights that will bring back our whole life here in a single flash. The crocuses are blooming now in the strip of median grass on the way to the Kingdom Hall. It's beautiful. In service on Friday Naomi-Ruth took us by the shop that I first went to on my second day in the Bijlmer (Bail-mar). It's the shop every Witness in the area frequents for their delicious and reasonably priced digs. Shredded chicken with pickled onions and peppers dripping with spicy goodness on a crusty soft roll for a wee 2 euro's 50. Brilliant. These are the small gems that make memories.

We've been a little frantic with the shock of suddenly loosing 4 months off of our stay. Just a week and a half ago we were turning in our paperwork at ORLY Plaza to extend our stay until July. Now we find ourselves trying to cram in as much of what we will be missing out on as we can into a few short days. Greatest regret: remember how I was saying we were expecting a visitor, and "Yeah Lanette" for making it happen? Well, she can still visit, but we won't be here when she get in. We'll be at least a week gone by the looks of things...we're still waiting to see how that one turns out. I am more sorry than I can say, Lanette, for this ridiculous turn of events.

We went out for dinner Friday evening to our favorite Irish pub, and followed it up with some live music at the Water Hole. They had a Red Hot Chili Peppers cover band that did a bang up job. Dead on attitude, and good beats too. Tonight we had a couple from our congregation over for dinner. We had plans with them before we knew we'd be leaving, so it was good to be able to keep at least one of the many commitments we had before we go. We're also trying to get them to take the handful of things we bought to make this fully furnished apartment truly furnished. A wooden shelving rack, a hanging clothes stand to add some footage to the roughly foot and a half wide hanging space in the closet here... monster shower caddy, a rug, some pillows... stuff we have in Cali, and really don't need to pack and ship home. They're going to be setting up house in a few months here anyways. We had a make your own pizza party, complete with a nutella and creme fraiche pizza dessert. I think everyone thought I was joking when I said we were having pizza for dessert too. Crazy American...

I should be in bed by now. It's after midnight, and tomorrow morning is likely to be our last Sunday meeting here. We'll be in the Netherlands for the following Sunday still, but that's the when Matt will be running a 12k race on the coast in Zandfoort, so we'll be there the whole weekend. Matt wanted to cancel it, but I told him he should still run. He's been looking forward to this event, and had it as a goal for so long now, that it would be an unnecessary blow to have to bow out now. Just because we have to leave sooner doesn't mean we have to leave all of our plans undone.

I'm still trying to figure out how we can fit in taking the train for 2 hours and seeing Brussels. That was one of the things we were supposed to do with Lanette (surprise...) so I guess I want to still be able to show her pictures, and maybe send a postcard. These are the plans of Mice and Men, eh?

Tomorrow a group from our congregation is taking us on an outing to a fishing village called Volendam. Apparently that's the place to be if you feel like dressing up Dutch...

AdHd Schedule

Here are some random pictures of my kitchen, living room, and Matt at his computer to accompany text I have no photos for:

It's practically warm here! I have scaled back my winter clothing. I'm down to a single pair of tights with bike shorts under my skirt or pants, and tall socks over the tights and only one long sleeved undershirt. I have even swapped the white "Micheline Man" stuffed jacket for my average California rain jacket. Most of the time...the wind still picks up from time to time to remind you it's not quite done with you yet. But the flowers have popped up in earnest and the sky stays blue for much longer now. Here's to summer in the Netherlands :)

Although I have no personal bible studies of my very own here, I am currently responsible for no less than 9 studies every week for a couple of sisters who are traveling this month. It has worked out very well to my benefit for my pioneer schedule, and I am already getting terribly attached to the people I've been privileged to study with on the absent sister's behalfs...behalves? heh

It worked out so perfectly too, one sis asked me to care for studies Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, and another asked me to look after a few Monday and Wednesday afternoon, and a Friday evening, and another has a Friday morning slot. I couldn't have worked it out so well if I'd tried. Thankfully, it's a temporary schedule. I don't know if I could keep it up ad nauseum!

Thank you for giving me the oportunity to try :)

ORLY?

We picked up our residency permits finally (they've been ready and waiting for us for months, but they made the mistake of telling us that we had 2 months to pick them up...so we put it off) on Monday at a place called Orlyplein. Pronounced pretty much like it looks, but to Matt and I all we could see was the internet phenom the ORLY Owl. O really? Matt printed out the owl pic so we could firmly embrace geek-hood and take this photo. We tried to explain the joke to Joost, who was carting us around and helping us apply for our extension, but I don't think it made much sense to him. He was happy to help us regardless. It just so happened that we picked up our residency cards and applied for our extension at the same time. Hopefully our papers will get approval to keep us here through July just as easily as the first ones did.

I'm going out of order here... We enjoyed a very nice dinner at the Willimsen's house last Sunday after the meeting. It was reverse hospitality, since he had delivered the discourse at the hall that morning. Our only contribution was a bottle of Gallo from California that we stumbled across at one of the local grocery stores. Since we first dinned with them, early in our stay, they had gone out on Matt's suggestion and purchased Mario Party for the Wii. We took a few turns, guys against girls, and felt a lot like we'd never left California. Good family fun is universal it seems. Oh, and the guys won. I'm taking the easy way out and saying that it's not our lack of skill, but rather because their daughter had to be bribed with cookies to let the other girls take our turns...But I made Matt do the "guys win" dance, so really, we all won :) Barbara made a scrumptious lemon meringue pie for dessert. Matt volunteered to perform the meringue test. Having never made meringue myself, I didn't know what it was either... pretty much it's an excuse to hold a bowl full of whipped egg whites over someones head, and hope they're firm enough to not fall out of the bowl. Matt didn't need to take a shower, so it was a success :)

Our Congregation kills me in so many many ways... it makes me laugh at a constant stream of inside jokes that everyone is in on, and it makes me cry when I think of leaving in just a few months. Here's a brief example of the random hilarity that goes on in our little congregation meetings:

Last Wednesday's Theocratic ministry school was getting a little behind schedule, talks running over time as they will. The brother conducting the congregation Bible study slowly winds up the study, entertaining just a few last comments, when his brother in law, the next speaker up, suddenly stands up, walks up the steps, turns toward the audience, and ever so slowly, takes the microphone away from the conductor, and angles it towards himself and says "that's all the time we have I'm afraid." The bible study conductor steps aside, befuddled, but clearly dismissed. That in itself has most of the congregation laughing uproariously. A sister behind me says "only in our congregation..." as she shakes her head, snickering. As that brother's part (also a question and answer part) also starts to go overtime, the congregation gradually becomes aware of a particularly tall brother slinking up the side aisle, turning the tables on the first brother to redirect the stage microphone. Finally the speaker spots him too, realizes he's now the guilty long talker. The speaker who started the whole thing stands there on stage, giggles, turns bright pink and laughs along with the rest of us as he admits his maneuver of dismissal has come full circle...priceless. Don't get me wrong, it's all business and solemnity when it should be, but I wish I could recreate the sound of our hall ringing with chortles, guffaws, and giggles we enjoy a few times per meeting.

I've been on the receiving end of a "just a few last comments" night before too. A few months back, we were all caught up in a question and answer part, and everyone had something to share. Just as the conductor called on me, saying "Sister Allen" and pointing my direction, the next brother up stood up in the front row, and made it obvious that the meeting was moving on...heh

This Sunday, after meeting, Matt and I went out for a long bike ride to Ikea afterward because it's the only grocery store within 30 minutes from our house that's open on a Sunday, and because Ikea Food hot dogs are the closest we can find to American dogs.

Still out of order in my story telling: Saturday Matt and I went to Amsterdam Central Station to renew our monthly bus passes, and to finally pick ourselves up a "40% korting" train discount card. We just don't take the train often enough to have made it a priority before. But, Matt has signed up to run a 12K race in a coastal town called Zandfoort at the end of the month, and with one of us having the discount card we can get 40% off of up to 4 tickets. It worked out in our favor to get it this week because it used to be that you could only get a discount card for a year at a time, so it was around $55 euros. This month, we were able to get a discount card for 3 months, at only $15 euros, which is perfect for our time line. We are expecting a visitor in April (yeah Lanette for making it happen!!!!) and I have a sneaking suspicion we'll finally be taking the train out of the country. Will in be Germany? Paris, France? Luxembourg or Belgium? only time will tell...

After we took care of business, we took time to explore a little more of the city center. Just a little off the beaten tourist path, we found a place that felt more like the local's hangout. We like to pretend we're locals... We had dinner at place new to us called "Festina Lente", an Italian themed small plates dive. It felt a like a piece of Seattle, a chunk of Berkeley, and a slice of my grandparents basement room in their first house in Oregon smushed into a cozy, feline friendly, herb scented living room cum dinning room. With bookshelves. While waiting for our table to be cleared, Matt and I made friends with the guard cat, who the waiter joked about being named "American" because he's thick and lazy. Somehow, I don't think either one of us felt insulted... He actually climbed up on our extra chair (the cat, not the waiter) and fell asleep in our company for the rest of our tasty tasty meal. I admit, I pet him at length in a most unsanitary fashion. The restaurant also had a selection of games to play if you want. We asked about Risk, but when it showed up at the table, it was in Dutch, and Matt decided he was not up to the task of teaching me the rules while translating into English. So, we contented ourselves with lamb in red wine sauce, goat cheese and plum ravioli in basil, lemon scented poached salmon, and a few other yummy bites parading across our crooked corner table. When it was time to take our leave, Matt eased our snoozing feline friend over to the next table, chair and all, where a couple of women sat, trying not to be jealous of our being chosen over them for kitten affection. We walked through a light rain back to tram 5 and home sweet home.

Bennekom Assembly

Trying to catch you all up to speed:

February 7, and 8 we attended our circuit assembly in a town called Bennekom, about an hour away from Amsterdam. The day before the assembly, February 6th, I had the pleasure of attending the pioneer meeting for the English circuit.

Because of the distance, and the pioneer meeting, I went a day ahead of Matt, on Friday (since he didn't need to be there until Saturday) and caught a ride with a couple from our hall, the van der Heuvles. He had a part on the pioneer meeting program and interviewed Makafui and me about our experiences pioneering for a few minutes. I have to say I was a bit shocked to be part of the program so soon after moving here, but I guess I still think I'm new here, but it had really been 4 months already at that point. The brother's here put so much energy into their parts, it was a really enjoyable day. We came a little early to the assembly hall to help with the cleaning. There was a "how to" instructional cleaning demo that sung the praises of all things microfiber. It was really well organized, even though everyone joked about feeling like we were watching an info-mercial. They didn't use any chemicals, and every one was issued one micro-fiber cloth for glass, one for other surfaces, and one for toilets. Then the all important microfiber mop for the floors, of course. I was pleasantly surprised that we had lunch served to us. After years of trying to eat sensibly, I've acquired the habit of packing my own lunches if I know I'll be out most of the day, especially in service. It doesn't work out quite the same here, but I had packed enough snack stuff to hold me. However...

Not only did they have tea and coffee complimented by Matt's favorite Dutch dessert, the stropwaffle cookie, but a full hot lunch as well. I caved and left my snacks in my bag, drawn in by the delicious smell of another singularly Dutch item, the kroket sandwich. Have I described "bitterballen" to ya'll yet? It's something like condensed cream of mushroom soup with chunks of sausage rolled into balls, dipped in batter and deep fried. These sandwiches are made of similar stuff, but in the shape of a sausage instead of a ball. To be enjoyed steaming hot, with mustard. Yeah, fell off the healthy choices wagon that day :)

Since the town is such a commute for car-less people like ourselves, we asked our friends here, and they helped us select a hotel within walking distance. I stayed over night, and met Matt at the Hall in the morning. A kind and quiet brother offered us a ride the previous week, so Matt hitched in with him and another brother. Here's what I mean by "quiet" brother. Matt rode with him Saturday morning, and asked him if he wanted to sit nearby us. He says, no thanks anyways, he already had a seat elsewhere. Later that day, during the baptism talk, I take a look at who the baptismal candidates are, and I spot what looks a lot like him...so I ask Matt, "hey, is Chris getting baptized today??" and he says, "I don't think so, he didn't mention it". But sure enough, he was there getting baptized, and with quiet humility, saying nothing about it. We laughed and joked with him after the program telling him that he was being sly. He said, "I'm not sly, I just don't say much". True enough. He also gave us a ride home on Sunday. There is a train that stops nearby, but it's so much nicer to ride with your spiritual family.

We were pleasantly surprised to find that the coffee and tea service (though, sans stropwaffles and sammies) was still being served for the Assembly program. I thought it was just for the workers who showed up a day early to clean the hall. Turns out that before the program, and lunch, and for a while after the day's program ends they still serve tea and coffee at all Dutch assemblies. This is something most Jehovah's Witnesses who have been around for a few years remember fondly from the old days. Although we can agree that it's much better for all of us to bring our own digs and retain the ability to listen to the program without having to worry about your shift serving or preparing food for the masses, we all miss some food item that you just can't get anywhere else. Cheese danishes for me. Matt says hoagies. The Dutch just couldn't give up the civility of tea and coffee service. So, they were granted a stay :)

On Saturday evening, the Kupyeres picked us up at our hotel, "The Reehorst" (their recommendation) and took us to meet some other friends for dinner in the neighboring town of Ede (pronounced Aida). We were hoping for Italian, but the place was packed out, so we went for Greek instead. The other couple who met up with us was really great too. The brother helped me on Friday figuring out what to do with my microphone. The sister, his wife, is from the States, so we had a grand old time helping her husband to understand some of her habits that confuse him by proving that they are "American" things. ie: eating off of each other's plates at random, being irritated by slow restaurant service, etc. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't get a picture of us at dinner. Usually a server can be interrupted to take a quick snapshot...these ones couldn't be found to be interrupted :) We still had a really nice night of good food and companionship with them regardless.

It was really interesting looking at things from the perspective of being in a foreign language field. It still doesn't really feel like we're in a foreign language, because it's our mother tongue. And 9 times out of 10, even the native Dutch people speak great English, so it's not so apparent to us that we're living in a foreign language community. But being at the assembly gave us new insights into what it really means to be coming here from another country, looking for work, or to be near family, or a thousand other things that brings people here from all over in a more permanent way than ourselves. The District and Circuit Overseers are both native Nederlanders, and while the C.O. gave his discourses in English, the District Overseer had his talks translated from Dutch. Most of the time it was seamless, but once in a while the speaker would make a joke in Dutch that just doesn't translate, or the translator for some reason wouldn't know what to say, so we just looked at each other, puzzled, as they went on. As we said they all had a lot of energy, and good humor. If I were to give examples, this post would take me as long to write as the Italy blog did...no one wants that...heh...

After two days (3 for me) of meeting new friends from all over the planet who have the English language and a spiritual brotherhood in common, we felt energized and overwhelmed at the same time. We made friends who I very much hope to see again, but don't have any idea of when...There's so very much work to do in the service and congregations here, and here we are, knowing we'll leave them all too soon to be much real help. I did take some pictures of some of our Ghanaian sisters wearing their traditional clothing, but I still need to ask them if I can post their pictures. So, you'll have to be patient and wait to see them.

Then, a few weeks after that (February 24-March 1st), we had our Circuit Overseer visit to our congregation. We actually went back to the schedule I grew up with: Tuesday night TMS, Thursday night bookstudy, except we had our Sunday meeting on Saturday actually. And again, we had a really encouraging motivating pioneer meeting. I didn't realize before that how many auxiliary pioneers we have. We really do have a lot of service support here, and for that I am very very thankful.

So we had a busy handful of weeks spiritually, physically, and emotionally. As much as I hated to leave our friends in California behind for 6 months (now 9 months), I now dread to leave this new found family behind to move back "home". Oh, Matt got to experience accompanying the brother here that does port witnessing this weekend, which is where they get permission to board vessels in the Port of Amsterdam to talk with the workers. Leanna and I had the opportunity to do that while she was here, and it was a truly unique, and rewarding adventure. One more of the things that we will probably only get to try our own hands at while living here in Amsterdam.

Until next time...

Fond Farewells...

And so, after a very eventful packed out 3 weeks, we spent Leanna's last night with us at the Pender's house eating Costa Rican grub, singing karaoke and playing Apples to Apples. I couldn't believe it when that was the game that Karen pulled out of her bag. Our last few nights in the Creek back in Cali we played that same game. Some things really are universal, aren't they? We got to met a brother and a sister from the English hall in Rotterdam, and as Leanna will attest, we met a brother who is the male version of LaTanya. Brother's got the moves, and pipes to bring down the house! Actually, we asked if the neighbors ever complained about the noise they make when singing Karaoke because it's an apartment that shares walls, but apparently the talent they bring in keeps them happy :) The other entertainment of the evening was provided by Monica's cat Mina, an adorable and very friendly British Shorthair mix kitten who likes to smell feet, and chase plushy mice around the room.

Leanna's flight left in the morning, so we didn't have much time the next day to do anything but head to the airport. Leanna's "strippencard" was just about maxed out, and loaded down with gifts and sweaters, I think she was ready to get back home. Adventure after adventure can't take the place of solid routine when it comes down to it.

I had hoped to finally be able to visit the small Rembrandt Museum housed at Schiphol, but instead I had to settle for a visit to the somewhat international airport grocery store that we lived off of when we were first in town ourselves. Turns out that you have to be on the other side of the security gate to get to the museum. So, maybe Leanna got to see it! After waving goodbye to Leanna, watching as she made her way through passport security (with a passport now boasting gobs of Amsterdam stamps, no Italy stamp even though we asked for one, and a couple of Zurich stamps), I turned back to the bus stop and back to my own routine.

Matt and I still call the guest room Leanna's bedroom...

Florence! Finally! formattings messed up though...

There are more pictures of Florence between Leanna and I than I can handle...

I've been picking and choosing through hundreds of beautiful pictures trying to pull out a handful that will highlight our whirlwind Italy trip. I tried to put the pics in order with the story, but I kept remembering more and having to add things in at random intervals, so you'll just have to do your best to figure out which pictures go to which part of the tale...

It began a mere 22 hours after we landed back in Amsterdam from London. Only for you Leanna :)

In order to save a few hundred dollars between us, and to get the hotel we wanted, we opted for a layover en route to Florence...After a long long night spent in the Zurich airport trying to sleep off our 10 hour lay over, we got to at least see the Swiss alps.

We could see blue sky out the airplane window, and when we arrived in Florence, we're happy to find that unlike Amsterdam's blue sky, the blue sky here meant the air was a little warmer too. Our main reason for making the trip (aside from the pure fun of going to Italy for a few days because we could) was Leanna's familial connections. Her great-great-grandad was born there in the late 1800's. The family name Marraccini didn't pop into sight as often as the other Italian family name, Lippi. It graced a few streets we passed on the way from the tiny airport to the city center. That might be in part due to the renowned Italian Renaissance painter Filippo Lippi, who lived in and around Florence in the early to late 1400's and thrived there under the patronage of the Medici family, virtual royalty of the golden age of Florence, although most people seem to be more familiar with one of his famous pupils, Sandro Botticelli. If that name still doesn't ring any bells, think "the Birth of Venus", or "Primavera".

We walked from the train station to our hotel, a lovely family run place called Hotel Ariele. It was a bit out of the way if you want to be right in the center of things in Florence, but we thoroughly enjoyed the walk from there to town along the Arno River. If we had been in a hotel closer to the main tourist attractions of Florence, I don't think we would have seen half of the things that I enjoyed the most about our three days there. The room was gigantic, with huge white curtained windows stretching up almost all the way to the vaulted ceiling. After such a restless night in the Zurich airport, we both appreciated how completely black the wooden shutters and heavy exterior curtains made the room. Nothing like a nap at noon :). I took a picture of the print hanging above one of the beds and realized in hindsight that it looked almost exactly like this photo of the bridges over the Arno I took on our first day. I actually had to double check that I took it because it's so stinking picturesque. It doesn't look real to me still. I can only be sure it's mine because I have a tell tale smudge on my camera lens that shows up looking like a near vertical cloud in the upper right quadrant of every picture I take. The only thing that took getting used to in our room was our shower. The shower head was hand held instead of being attached to the wall above your head. It takes talent to not spray down the entire bathroom while you shower that way. Oh, and there was a much avoided bidet...

The walk along the Arno, if we meandered instead of walking like I traditionally do (like I'm on a mission from God, heh), took us about 20 minutes to get into the section of town with all the famous museums and famous piazzas and cathedrals. The locals seemed to treasure it as much as us tourists, and often sat sunning themselves on the various view spots that jut over the water. My personal favorite part of the walk had to be the bridges. We passed at least 2 bridges, sometimes 3, before banking left to enter the narrow high walled streets that criss-cross and tangle their way through piazza after piazza. My favorite bridge has to be one I didn't even know about until we cited it along the water, the Ponte Vecchio, built in 1345. Actually, rebuilt in 1345. It seems that a bridge has been in that location at least since Roman times, and the design that stands there now is attributed to Taddeo Gaddi to replace one built in the 1100’s that had washed out. Shops still line both sides off the bridge like little brightly colored jewels. Fitting, I suppose, since it has been almost the sole dominion of gold merchants since the late 1500's.

We wandered in circles around the Duomo, with it's towering Campanile looming 276 feet above the square, just a tad shorter than the cathedral dome. Although the interior is as much of a masterpiece as the exterior, that didn't rank very high on our to do list for the 2 and a half days we had to tour. We took a few self portraits in front of tourist favorites, ever wary of seemingly thoughtful locals trying to sell us knick knacks and offering to take our picture for us... goodbye camera.... Perhaps we were over cautious, but after hearing warning after warning about pick pockets and bag snatchers, we went with better safe than sorry. In fact, the winter was a great time to visit, because it's off tourist high season, and therefore much easier to walk around minus the press of crowds where thieves have easy pickings. We weren't bothered at all. I think the only “scam” we came across was me buying a 5 Euro print from a street vendor who had his product laid out on the side walk. His asking price of 20 euros shrank quickly as we slowly turned to walk away. I thought I was doing great, and getting close to the base price he could sell for by accepting 5 euros as the price. You know, you pay whatever it’s worth to you. But he went even lower when Leanna tried to walk away without buying anything. Her print (same size as mine) was offered at a mere 3 euros.... the guy seemed not to hear me when I told him he owed me 2 euro back ;)

Our first order of business after arrival Wednesday afternoon (post nap) was to get to the San Lorenzo Basilica, where Leanna had hopes of finding her great grandfather's name in the archives. On the way, we slowed down to browse the stalls of the famous San Lorenzo market. Although neither one of us was expecting to buy anything, we both walked away with ties and scarves of beautiful Italian design to both keep and give as gifts. piazzas and cathedrals. The locals seemed to treasure it as much as us tourists, and often sat sunning themselves on the various view spots that jut over the water. My personal favorite part of the walk had to be the bridges. We passed at least 2 bridges, sometimes 3, before banking left to enter the narrow high walled streets that criss-cross and tangle their way through piazza after piazza. My favorite bridge has to be one I didn't even know about until we cited it along the water, the Ponte Vecchio, built in 1345. Actually, rebuilt in 1345. It seems that a bridge has been in that location at least since Roman times, and the design that stands there now is attributed to Taddeo Gaddi to replace one built in the 1100’s that had washed out. Shops still line both sides off the bridge like little brightly colored jewels. Fitting, I suppose, since it has been almost the sole dominion of gold merchants since the late 1500's. I love this picture with Leanna being primped by one of the merchants. He got our business basically by leaving us alone while we looked at his wares. The other stall workers cat called and harangued us if we even turned our heads their direction.

Eventually, we got to the Basilica. Since it was so late, we just took a look around the cloister green (with a lovely orange tree in the center) and decided to come back the next day, fresh and relaxed. On the walk through town, we window shopped, and people watched, and got crimps in our necks from gazing up at the incessant grandeur of Italy. Some where along the way I surrendered to impulse, and went from window shopper to customer. Ever since high school I have wanted shoes from Italy. A girl a few grades ahead of me wore a pair of shoes from travels in Italy practically everyday, and the sees was planted. The shoes in this shop didn’t grab me, but a long purple lined brown shirt that hangs almost to my knees did…and the fact that it was on sale.

As the sun descended, the afternoon turned to evening, and we wandered. As we walked through the Piazza della Republica nightlife was just winding up with families and friends out enjoying the beautiful evening. Musicians playing classical guitar, selling their work on the sidewalk, a carousel spinning with laughter, a balloon hawker looming over squirming children, and hundreds of people each with their own important place to be waltzing past each other in a seamless flow. Amazingly, most of them walking nearby noticed me hunched protectively over my short tripod on the ground, and walked well out of the way, or just paused until the long exposure closed, and I stood up.

We walked back towards the hotel through different streets yet, and had our first slices of true Italian pizza for dinner (mine had anchovies) followed up by gelato that made me dance it was so good. I think we overwhelmed the old guy behind the counter a little bit with our juvenile excitement. Leanna had pistachio, while I dug into Nutella. We found our way to the Piazza della Signora, but it was too dark to take good pictures so we came back the next day the same way. But the night blue sky did give us some great pictures of the Arno and it's beautiful and plentiful bridges.

Thursday morning, after a quiet hotel breakfast, we made our way back to Piazza della Signora, via the bustling Arno, of course. The sunny sky made for much better photography, as we walked along the corridor to the piazza we could now see the details on the full size statue portraits of men such as Galileo, DaVinci, Macchiavelli, Amerigo Vespucci, and Michelangelo and more standing like guards as they lined the way. The original David stood here too, and it’s still home to Ammanate's bigger than life Neptune and friends. Too bad for us the David replacement replica was under cover for restoration. Good thing we had scheduled afternoon time for the real deal :) My favorite part of the morning had to be meeting the artist in this picture who tried with routine bitterness to get me not to take a picture of her pictures. She didn't expect me to want to buy anything from her. On the contrary, I couldn't choose out of her beautiful water colors highlighted with ink. I ended up with two lovely pieces, one of the skyline of Florence, and one of a twisted alleyway staggered with arches and walkways stretching across from one side to the other. She lovingly wrapped them for transport and then happily took pictures with us.

We returned to San Lorenzo Basilica and found a sweet and helpful lady named Teresa. Being hampered by our total lack of Italian, and her limited English, we switched to Spanish, and gathered that we should talk with the Monsignor of San Lorenzo. At 94 years old (although we were assured in good health), he was napping when we came. So, we were instructed to return after 4 pm, the period post naptime, and pre dinnertime. In the meantime, we toured the Biblioteca Mediceo-Laurenzia, upstairs from where we met Teresa. She was actually working, (door duty) at the crypt under the Basilica, which I did want to see, but we never got back to. We also forwent the interior of the Basilica, designed by Michelangelo, in favor of other works of his (yeah, David again).

The library was beautiful, although most of the books are put out of harms way, the windows, tile floors, and bench/shelves are still in great condition and show the titles and order of the library as set and designed by Michelangelo in 1524. That led us into a museum displaying the life's work of a philosopher monk whose name completely left my memory since I wasn't allowed

to take pictures... He had a collection of hundreds of books hand copied by himself, and his devotees meticulously written out on vellum in black and red lettering, decorated with vivid blues, reds and greens, highlighted with gold leaf. He had 25 Bibles attributed to his collection, but none of them were on display. I think the copies of medicinal texts were particularly beautiful. There's something mesmerizing about trying to read someone's 600 year old handwriting, expressing the thoughts and cares of the greats, so carefully penned between hair follicles and crinkles and whirls of

whatever animal skin they stretched into vellum for the pages. There were works from Seneca, Plato, and even Ovid among the monk’s own treaties on ethics and morals. The collection would have been priceless in an age where one volume of pages would have cost the average man a years wages in one go. Now, I suppose it's still priceless.

Next up, we made out way to the Galleria Della Academia, aka: home of Michelangelo’s original David. We passed through graffiti strewn alleys and art students working on their own masterpieces. We even passed a bakery named "Sabrina", but they were slammed, and we were on a mission. We sat, stood, and stared at length, captivated by Michelangelo’ crowning achievement. Honestly I don’t have much memory of the other works of genius we looked at on the way to the David’s room. I kept having to pinch myself mentally, and remind myself that I really was here in Italy looking with my own eyes on the very real chunk of marble carved into David that I’ve been looking at in pictures most of my life. “The prisoners” made an impression, but not much else. We were surprised by how many people, one after the other, got chastised by the security attendants for ignoring the multiple posted signs forbidding photo taking. Some tried to be subtle, some walked right up and stuck their best Davidic pose. Frankly I was just as surprised that I didn’t try to take one…

Somewhere on the walk back to San Lorenzo, we stopped into a shop just to ask them if they'd seen an article in the Awake! magazine in the last few months that featured their work (Masterpieces “Painted” With Stones, or Capolavori “dipinti” con pietre). They make and sell stone paintings. According to the woman who welcomed us into the shop, there are only 3 people left in all of Italy who practice this dying craft. She was amazed to hear that we had read of them in an article written by a Florentine author in the Awake! magazine. I knew from that article that I wouldn't in good conscience be able to give any pretense of being a potential customer. And we were proven correct. The smallest piece she had to offer us (about a thumb nail size floral pendant) was still 100 euros. If anyone has an extra, I'm still searching for a December 2008 Awake to send them :) I have the text from online, but I really want to show them the pictures.

We came back to talk to San Lorenzo's Monsignor Priori, we were saved the interview by another woman was there to help. She and Teresa asked yet another woman who seemed to be in charge, what to do, and she went into ask the Monsignor his advice. We were then directed us to a different archive because all of the records before 1900 were stored at the San Giovanni Basilica. So, they gave us addresses and directions, and even emails to follow up on. We could have pushed on and tried for that evening, but as the afternoon turned to dark, we decided to come back in the daylight.

Here’s an odd fact about Italy: it’s illegal for anyone to sell postage stamps unless they are licensed tobacco seller. So, the street vendors we bought our postcards from couldn’t help us mail our missives. We killed the last of the daylight by trying to hunt down a tobacco shop. We stopped along the way at the Landucci café for a few sweets (a fruit and cream confection called a mignon, and another pine nut topped cream cup called a varie) and a café americano. We people watched, and sat looking at the narrow street until the light turned from yellow to gray. Our salt and pepper pony-tailed waiter talked, and we talked back, and I don’t think either one of us really had a clue what was transpiring. I think the only actual communication was that the bill got paid, and we all smiled for the pictures.

Since we were in the right neighborhood, we checked the address for the San Giovanni archives that we planned to come to in the morning. It wasn’t hard to find, and as we walked, the inviting lights and store front of an English bookstore called to us. Actually, it was called the “Anglo-American Paperback Exchange”. It always gives me goose-bumps to see that pairing still in use…Even though we already had more books than we needed, and hard to carry, I found myself buying a piece of historical fiction based on the life of Leonardo DaVinci’s mother.

Full dark found us heading in the general direction of home, and sussing out other hotels until we found one with internet access (for a price of course) so I could email Matt to let him know what we were up to. We realized the day we left our hotel that they did indeed have internet access, but it was disguised in a closet reminiscent of a confessional. The hotel we got online at had one of the coolest bathrooms I have ever seen. It had pedals under the sink for the water instead of handles over the sink; one for hot, and one for cold water. It was done in an underwater theme, which could have gone so very very wrong, but they pulled off with elegance. Even with seashells glued to the walls...

We dithered and dallied and couldn’t decide what to do for dinner, our wallets and our appetites battling for supremacy.We restaurant shopped, lamented the euro to dollar ratio, and almost decided on pizza again, a most agreeable second fiddle. As a last resort, we remembered a restaurant on the corner by our hotel, but by the time we arrived it had closed. By that time, we were really and truly hungry, and the snacks left over from the plane ride wouldn’t suffice. We took a last hopeful look around, and landed on a glimmering gem called Trattoria Baldini just across the main thoroughfare from home. The menu looked varied and reasonable (although we veered sharply away from the ox tail and cow brains), and an adorable older Italian gentleman ushered us in with an affable smile and guarantee that we’d be happy with his restaurant. Instead of sitting us amidst the many families chattering in Italian over steaming plates, he sat us at a table close to the kitchen window, and close to his table. We shared the room with 2 other older gents, one of whom obviously makes a regular appearance, same seat every night kid of thing, and another who surprised us by knowing both of our streets in Walnut Creek well, having spent time there frequently on business. We started with a marinated vegetable appetizer, and a single glass of Chianti, which arrived in the form of a wine glass and a giant wicker wrapped bottle that the waiter left open on our table as a hospitable temptation. We mused over our trip, our lives, made the acquaintance of the chef, the staff, and the regulars over piping hot mushroom risotto and olive oil drenched pasta carbonara. We left for our beds with a warm glow of contentment.

Our last day in Florence came all too soon, and we still tried to pack as much in as we could. Our flight didn’t depart until late afternoon, and although we didn’t relish the idea of packing our luggage around the city with us, our hotel didn’t provide much better options. Basically, when we asked if we could stow our luggage with themfor the day, the desk clerk in nicely accented English pointed towards the table in the hallway and told us they don’t have room for storing baggage, but we’re more than welcome to leave our things under the table. I might have done so had I not walked into the hotel repeatedly over the last 2 days and seen people’s backpacks and luggage sitting there like an invitation with no one at the front desk, and the door temptingly wide open to the bustling street. So, in stead, we dragged our carry-on’s behind us over uneven paving stones down the Arno and back into the heart of Firenze.

We got a laugh on the way overhearing some locals as we walked past. I had my sunglasses on, and carrying all of my things, had generated some heat walking and walking to our destination. I took off my jacket, and bared my arms to the sum gladly. As we walked I heard Leanna laugh behind me on the narrow sidewalk. I asked her what got her laughing. She had heard two ladies as I walked past say disdainfully “LA” followed by a baffled huff indicating the lunacy of walking in short sleeves and sunglasses like it’s mid summer not mid winter. Can I help that the sun was out? I had to hand it to them though, out of the all far-flung world, they did nail it in guessing we came from California.

The last item on our must do list was the Galleria degli Uffizi. Museum of Museum, and art gallery

of art galleries…. The Medici’s really knew what’s what when it came to collecting. I cannot do it justice here. I can’t begin to describe the inundation of culture and history we waded through that Friday. I bought a book about the Medici’s because I just can’t keep all of them straight. Founding father Cosomo Medici began the Uffizi’s collection in 1560, more as a hub of governing the city (“Uffizi” meaning “Offices”) than a gallery, but the family collections were opened to the public in the mid 1700’s. It’s fame has only grown. One of the ways Cosimo kept a finger on the pulse of world government was by requisitioning portraits of heads of state and country the world round. I was quite surprised to see a portrait of First Emperor Qin of China hanging in one of the long hallways. Besides his contemporaries, Cosomo sought to learn from famous rulers of the past also.

Our real goal however was to find the room showcasing Fillipo Lippi, great ancestor to Leanna. After learning of his influence on Sandro Botticeli, the similarities became obvious. Both used the same kind of floral components, and angelic glowing faces. We joked that after the Uffizi tour, we had now seen work from all 4 teenage mutant ninja turtles: Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Raphael. I know, that’s kind of a cheeky way of looking at things…but a good memory tool nonetheless. I was entertained by finding a small collection of Dutch artists there, and it took us back to our visit to the Rijksmuseum here in Amsterdam.

One more long night spent in Zurich airport, and we made our way back to Amsterdam. Italian adventures safely stowed in the overhead storage (lame reference to memory…heh).

Fini

Oh yeah, and I did find a pair of black leather boots to buy too…on sale of course.