Amy's Global Mobilities

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to succumb to jet lag. It's 3pm Central time and 10pm "my" time. I have restocked the fridge and made cranberry sauce. A big batch of chili is next. Eric is napping and firewood is on order. Walking along the Kishwaukee River isn't quite the same as strolling along a canal, but I have Millie for company, and the landscape is open. I feel incredibly fortunate and am signing off this blog until my next big journey.

One aspect of Amsterdam I will miss tremendously is the opportunity to look into so many windows - vignettes into other worlds. The most common view is of a front room in a small apartment. The typical layout includes a kitchen area; a seating area with a television and at least one very full bookcase; and a long table for eating, doing homework, completing office tasks, and being a family. Ikea furniture is everywhere, but the rooms never look exactly the same because each one seems to have one unique piece of furniture, often an antique, giving it character. Perhaps that explains the predominance of stores advertising one-of-a-kind items; I can't understand how they stay in business otherwise, as no one one could possibly need or want all these odds and ends. Or maybe they could. . . . Here is a window I passed on the way to the ballet last night. I'll never call myself a hoarder again! (Actually, I think it's intended as an art installation.) This was in the base...

  After I returned from seeing Cinderella at the Dutch National Ballet last night, I stayed up reading about Christopher Wheeldon and the choreography. Some moments were spectacular - for instance, the end of the first act, when Cinderella's coach appears to take off into the air on the way to the ball (see it here: https://www.operaballet.nl/en/ballet/2014-2015/show/cinderella). A few were over the top, and if I'd been a child, I would have been terrified by some of the creatures of nature, including one that looked like a perverse Mr. Potato Head. I agree with the reviews that criticize the stereotyping of the Thai, Spanish, and Turkish dancers. We should be beyond that in ballet, even when it's classical. I was disturbed, too, that one of the stepsisters was given glasses to show her ugliness - ugh! I disagree with those who said there was no dancing between Cinderella and the prince at the ball. See the picture above!  There wasn't always a lot of chemistr...

The museum I visited today, the Gemeente (or municipal) Museum in the Hague, had an exhibition titled Femmes Fatales, which claimed to be about feminism . . . . . . . and fashion. I loved seeing the original Mary Quant ribbed turtleneck and the Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress. I also appreciated the reform dress - I'd heard about them and never seen one before. In descriptions, they are always completely utilitarian, but this one was quite beautiful and inspiring. However, the exhibit as a whole left me wondering about feminism and fashion. The curators made an effective argument for the feminism of designers in a male system. Yet I cannot agree that the clothes themselves were all feminist. What is a feminist outfit anyway? Can clothing be implicitly feminist? Would these completely plastic outfits be considered feminist, for instance? Strange things happen when a woman's skin can't breathe . . . This one is molded to loo...

Given how many Christmas markets I've visited in the past two weeks, I admit to being slightly frightened by the attack in Strasbourg. I have received numerous alerts from the US embassy since I've been here, most of them in the last two weeks. My attitude about possible terrorist attacks while I travel is cavalier. I found Eric after I turned forty, and I was told I had a greater chance of being killed in a terrorist attack than of meeting a life partner! Seriously, though, I am  careful in busy places, but life is full or risks. If its not one thing, it's another. Today I was in The Hague, a few blocks from numerous embassies and the Peace Palace, home of the International Court of Justice.   I was facing (what else?) a museum. Suddenly, I heard shooting in front of me and to the right. I also saw smoke. I noticed a man with a gun and two boys briskly walking away from him. WALKING. It took a moment for that to sink in. Obviously, it was not a real fire...

I have been avoiding posting about part of my trip to Cologne, Germany, last week - my visit to the DOK museum in the former Gestapo headquarters. It would have been difficult at any time, let alone during Hanukah. Prisoners were kept in the basement; they weren't all Jewish. Some were Communists or members of the resistance. Above, you see the hallway to the torture chamber and a cell. Sometimes up to 30 people were crammed into a cell. To the left, you see a sample of the graffiti on the wall, in this case, a calendar. The exhibit is personalized with videos and tape recordings of people who were incarcerated as well as with pictures and signs documenting their stories. The events truly - and horribly - come to life. To educate children so this never happens again, the museum has a pedagogical center and an entire room dedicated to Hitler Youth and the way young people followed along. These images are chilling as well, partly because they contain so many, many ch...

When I left for Cologne yesterday, the moon and a star were still in the sky:  I have a cozy hotel room with a nice fireplace: Until a few weeks ago, I didn't realize that Cologne was home to multiple Christmas markets. I have now visited two and invested in various treats - as well as more spices - to take home. I'm wondering how mustard will travel . . . Yesterday I had flammkuchen for lunch at the market; today's lunch was not as happy. I had potato pancakes washed down with gluhwein, and one of them did not agree with me (dinner is a lovely, dry sourdough rye roll). Believe it or not, these are made of chocolate: Someone I love dearly who adores tools and is not on social media is getting some pliers! I saw some of Roman Cologne (hope to see more tomorrow): And, of course, I also went to the famous Cologne cathedral: I have no talent for arranging these, as you can see. No visit to Europe is complete wit...

Today I discovered Jacob Hooy, a spice and herb shop that began in 1723. You can still order your goods from the wooden drawers labeled in Latin, and they are scooped into small paper bags for you. No doubt the spices originally came from Dutch colonies. Now they travel from many places, and the shop also sells homeopathic remedies, essential oils, and similar items, as well as the ubiquitous cannabis products. I bought whole nutmegs and cinnamon sticks, though I may return for star anise and juniper berries. Working on my Dutch stew recipe!

The Mauritshuis in the Hague is my favorite museum outside my research interests. It's in a former mansion next to the Dutch parliament. In my opinion, it's a "must," and far better than the obligatory visit to Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum if you want to see paintings of the "Golden" Age. The crowds are smaller, too. The Mauritshuis is a jewel box, containing Vermeer's Girl with the Pearl Earring (as well as another Vermeer), Fabritius's Gold Finch, numerous Rembrandt paintings, as well as pieces by Hals, Van Dyck, Rubens, and other famous Dutch painters. It has a temporary exhibition space, but whatever is shown there is inevitably overshadowed by the works in the permanent collection. Here's an interesting Rembrandt of two "Moors." It's not usually seen.

Every Saturday when I go to the market, I give myself a short lecture about buying an appropriate amount for one person. It never works! Today, a knot of fresh tagliatelle turned into a large handful of artichoke and cheese ravioli; a small bunch of tulips was joined by a giant bunch of coral/yellow roses; a roll turned into a loaf of sourdough bread laced with walnuts; five bite sized pieces of smoked mozzarella were augmented by a thick slice of Dutch cheese with cumin seeds. And then there were the mushrooms, spinach, and smoked garlic, the stop for apple tart with cream, accompanied by fresh mint tea! At a time when the earth is dark - and not only because winter is descending - I treasure the bounty of earth and its humans. I offer a picture of one of the few products I didn't buy: carefully dyed linen in muted colors, a veritable rainbow!The painting below it is one I saw yesterday at the Mauritshuis in the Hague; it's a Van Ruysdael of bleached linen drying in a fiel...

Eric and I treat ourselves to one really fine restaurant on each of our trips to Amsterdam. This year, I selected an Italian enoteca that was on the list of ten best restaurants in the city. I had to make the reservation before I left home a month ago.  Last week we traveled across town to arrive at the restaurant in time for our reservation. "Mi dispiace, signora" (I'm sorry, or it displeases me), says the owner, but he does not have our reservation. My face falls. We came all the way across town, and I looked forward this for weeks. Ah, I think as I pull out my phone to show the reservation  confirmation. He looks at it, sniffs, and says, "but that was last night." Evidently, after I entered the reservation, Outlook changed the time zone, and the reservation moved to the next day. The owner looked at me sadly, mystified or perhaps grieving that someone would squander an opportunity to dine at his fine restaurant. I look sadder and say "bouna sera"...

When I was a teenager, one of my favorite movies was Exodus (1960) with Paul Newman and Eva Marie Saint. I watched it again a few years ago and was appalled by the film's treatment of relations between Jews and Muslims in Palestine and the nascent state of Israel. Today, I visited the National Holocaust Museum and Memorial in Amsterdam to see if there was anything on the Nazi's treatment of homosexuals. Nothing. The museum focused entirely on the lives of Dutch Jews. But a temporary exhibition titled Exodus 1947 focused on "illegal" Jewish migration to Palestine - including the British deportation and internment of emigrants who had only recently been released from camps and the ways in which Zionist activists worked around the British regulations. I had expected some interrogation of the term "illegal" because it's such a point of contention when referring to immigrants who come to the US now, but there was none. Nevertheless, the e...

  My first photograph today is of old Leiden. The seventeenth-century buildings in smaller towns are not as large as in Amsterdam, and this makes them even more charming. I can image Vermeer painting a woman inside one of these houses, the mild Dutch light falling across her face and the domestic interior. Such moments make it easy to romanticize the Netherlands and to accept the widely touted idea that the country is a haven for "tolerance" (is that ever enough?). But Sinterklaas (St. Nicholas) arrives on Sunday. He comes by boat along the canals in different cities, or even by coach. There is a grand parade with floats sponsored by various corporations, and Santa's assistants, who wear seventeenth-century style clothing, throw out candy or small gifts to the children. The most popular assistant for many years was Zwarte Piet, usually a white person in blackface. This tradition has been widely condemned in recent years and even banned in some places (for instance, P...

This is my street, which, like all of Amsterdam, seems to be under construction. The church at the end is Westerkerk, and it’s right next to Anne Frank’s house.  I’m really enjoying the new neighborhood, which is more residential and diverse than where I was last year. I keep finding treasures like little take-out shops with Algerian food or Turkish bakeries. I had a wonderful visit with my cousin Malinda from Brussels, and it was definitely a foodie visit. The first night we went to an Indonesian food, and I finally figured out how to order right – avoid the enormous rijstaffel, because everything starts to taste the same after the third little dish. and order a la carte. We had fragrant beef with creamy coconut sauce and eggplant with chili. The next night we went to my favorite Dutch restaurant for stamppot or stew; the restaurant is two tiny rooms crammed with bookshelves and board games. What’s not to like? Finally, yesterday, we went to the market and stopped at P...

Tonight I ate in a new restaurant which had concrete floors with peeling paint, folding tables, hard chairs, and no liquor license. All it offered was a choice of two salads (mista and caprese), a handful of homemade pasta dishes, bread with olive oil, and tiramisu. But the pasta! The dishes were just very fresh noodles, fragrant olive oil, a few grilled vegetables (I had artichokes) or some meat, and a smattering of grated Parmesan. Absolute evidence that perfectly fresh, simple food made with high quality ingredients is the best, most authentic version of Italian food!

Things that are trying to distract me from the election: a. a computer crash (it recovered) b. this year's washing machine/dryer combo. Many of you will recall that last year's washer was the bane of my existence, as it would refuse to start and lock up with my clothes in it. This year's washer spent two hours on rinse. Then, when I called my landlady and her husband came over, it decided to stop and open - presto! But now it's been saying it needs another 50 minutes of dryin g time for hours. The common motif seems to be the incarceration of my clothes. c. wondering if I can afford to send out all my laundry, linens and everything!

Today, I began my museum research in earnest. I returned first to the Amsterdam Museum, which has the mission of recording the city's history in all its diversity. The "city lab" for children, which was in its testing stage last year, is now open. It offers opportunities to think about how the city's geography functions, and young people can  identify problems and try to find solutions to them. Not surprisingly, Lego blocks were in abundance! I like the notion that the exhibit engages children in thinking about the place where they live and empowers them to consider ways of resolving problems. Most of my time, however, was spent in a special exhibition based on a book documenting the stories of 1000 Dutch women of the twentieth century (with a briefer coda including 80 twenty-first century women, which was mostly celebratory and short on objects). The obvious choices, such as Anne Frank, were in evidence, but also less well-known females, including Maria Montessori,...