A city of contrasts. I believe that's what we all love, the contrast to what we are used to. Maybe that is why we love Amsterdam.
The peace of the Hofje. The green, the calm, space, solitude, earnest learning of the university building, Minerva's wisdom.
The bustle of Nieuwmarkt. The market, terrace bar wisdom, tourists and locals mixed in this old place. De Waag dominates the square - the ancient castle-like building where merchants weighed their goods.
It's a mound of sounds. Car engines, bike bells tinging, voices, chains, squeaking breaks, coughs and splutters, high-heeled footsteps, a louder engine, English, Spanish and Dutch voices, a baby crying, a stool squeaking.
Nieuwmarkt - remarkably, the site of riots just 40 years ago, Most of the people here - mostly tourists - would be amazed to know of the riots. But I know and am always amazed too. To think this place, where we drink our tea and write our words, was the scene of police-truncheon violence and water cannon as the protesters against the demolition of old buildings to make way for the new Metro were herded away.
But much worse lies deeper, the war history. I feel it when I come here, ever since I learned that this was the Jewish quarter of a city known as Mokum (
Yiddish for "Safe Haven"). Tens of thousands were removed from the area in the war. Of 80,000 Jews in Mokum before the war, just 5,000 survived. 5,000.
This deep sadness and shame of Amsterdam. We talked about it, Tine and I - she described it as "A Wounded City". Unspoken. Unspeakable. Not to be spoken of.The city recovered. Of course it did, life moves on and nearly 70 years have passed now since the war. 34 years have passed since the riots and the demolition of the rotting but beautiful buildings that stood in the way of the progress of the city.
And the Nieuwmarkt square goes about its life, serving up a beautiful atmosphere of the world moving, oblivious to the past and enjoying a present, peaceful and busy Amsterdam moment.
The peace of the Hofje. The green, the calm, space, solitude, earnest learning of the university building, Minerva's wisdom.
The bustle of Nieuwmarkt. The market, terrace bar wisdom, tourists and locals mixed in this old place. De Waag dominates the square - the ancient castle-like building where merchants weighed their goods.
It's a mound of sounds. Car engines, bike bells tinging, voices, chains, squeaking breaks, coughs and splutters, high-heeled footsteps, a louder engine, English, Spanish and Dutch voices, a baby crying, a stool squeaking.
Nieuwmarkt - remarkably, the site of riots just 40 years ago, Most of the people here - mostly tourists - would be amazed to know of the riots. But I know and am always amazed too. To think this place, where we drink our tea and write our words, was the scene of police-truncheon violence and water cannon as the protesters against the demolition of old buildings to make way for the new Metro were herded away.
But much worse lies deeper, the war history. I feel it when I come here, ever since I learned that this was the Jewish quarter of a city known as Mokum (
Yiddish for "Safe Haven"). Tens of thousands were removed from the area in the war. Of 80,000 Jews in Mokum before the war, just 5,000 survived. 5,000.This deep sadness and shame of Amsterdam. We talked about it, Tine and I - she described it as "A Wounded City". Unspoken. Unspeakable. Not to be spoken of.The city recovered. Of course it did, life moves on and nearly 70 years have passed now since the war. 34 years have passed since the riots and the demolition of the rotting but beautiful buildings that stood in the way of the progress of the city.
And the Nieuwmarkt square goes about its life, serving up a beautiful atmosphere of the world moving, oblivious to the past and enjoying a present, peaceful and busy Amsterdam moment.
