Home is where your heart is, whether you like it or not.

This summer I was lucky enough to spend five weeks back in my home state of Minnesota. It was the first time I had returned since I moved to Amsterdam more than a year ago, and I definitely made the most of it. I spent quality time with my family, many days catching up with friends, and every free minute relaxing on one of the many gorgeous lakes Minnesota is known for. It was great to be back.

Before I left Amsterdam, I was incredibly excited for my return, but also a bit worried. The last time I experienced a big homecoming was after spending 18 months away. During that time I had lived and taught in South Korea, volunteered in Thailand, and traveled extensively throughout Southeast Asia and Europe. I remember how excited I had been to return to the place that had been so comfortable for me for most of my life, and how shocked I was with the reverse culture shock that greeted me. I felt like a foreigner in my own country and, well, I didn't like it.

So this time, I mentally prepared. I anticipated a similar feeling and was ready for it to knock me off my feet. I'm not sure if it was my preparation that worked or the fact that I psyched myself out more than necessary, but that feeling I anxiously awaited never came. On the contrary, it felt great to be back in Minnesota. I was surprised by how natural everything felt and I was elated to surround myself with the people who have played such important roles in my life for as long as I can remember.

Though something did feel different. Each time I would see someone for the first time, they'd ask me how it was to be home. "It's great!" I'd say, but I felt a bit like I was lying. While it was great to be back, it didn't necessarily feel like I was home. Sure Minnesota is a comfortable place for me to be, and I certainly do feel at home in my parents' house, but it's not necessarily my home anymore. No, I thought, my home is my apartment in Amsterdam - that cozy little flat in which I live with my husband and our cute little feline. And as much as I loved every minute of my Minnesotan summer, I often found myself feeling homesick for my life in Amsterdam.

The five weeks passed, simultaneously slowly and quickly as time seems to do, and before I knew it I was on my way back to Amsterdam. I was sad to leave Minnesota, excited to return to Amsterdam, content with all the memories I had made, and completely unprepared for what was to come.

Almost immediately after I returned, I was completely, totally, unbelievably overcome with homesickness (I realize that this sentence is redundant, but that's the only way I can describe just how I felt). What's worse, I was utterly confused as to how I could be so completely, totally, unbelievably overcome with homesickness for a place that didn't even really feel like my home just a few weeks ago. Yes, part of me was glad to be back with my husband and our cute little feline, but I was also beside myself with loneliness for those I had left behind. I was consumed by feelings of sadness, and there was just no consoling me or working through my feelings logically. I spent about two days laying on the couch, trying to distract myself from myself, and suffering from what I can only describe as heartbreak.

And that's when it clicked. Through my jet-lagged fog and tear-bleary eyes, a time old saying popped into my head.

"Home is where your heart is."

Never had words spoken so truly or hurt so deeply. Home is most definitely where your heart is, and in my case (and the case of many expatriates, I'm sure), my heart was split right down the middle between two. I realized then that Minnesota most certainly is, and always will be, my home. Though I may not live there, my heart is there with my dear family and my irreplaceable friends, and that is enough to make it my home. But Amsterdam is also my home, as my heart is present here in this city and in the beautiful life I'm creating with my husband.

So what does that mean for a girl with a heart split down the middle? Well, I can't really say. I usually like to end my posts with a little lesson that I've learned from my experience, but this one isn't so clear yet. I know that I'm lucky to have such a full heart, but when your heart is torn, it's harder to feel the luckiness. I'm sure with time I'll be able to balance the two homes with more grace, but until then, I'm going to have to keep juggling.

An Amsterdamiversary

While tomorrow will be my official Amsterdamiversary (or, in layman's terms, one year since I arrived in Amsterdam), today marks a full year since I hugged my parents goodbye and boarded a plane on a one-way ticket. As often seems the case when I reflect on time, part of me can't believe it was only a year ago that I moved to this foreign land while the other part feels like I've been here forever. This year has been full of ups and downs, exciting developments as well as setbacks, and a whole lot of growth. I surely can't say that I've loved every minute, but I'm learning to be grateful for each one because things are finally starting to feel like they're falling into place.

I feel like I may have written something similar to those last two sentences before, and I did mean them at the time, but new developments have me feeling them even stronger now. While I've been substitute teaching for the past five months or so, I haven't been called in very regularly until the last month and a half during which I've been working every day (you may have noticed I've been extra busy by the lack of blog posts, my sincerest apologies for that). Being back in a school has been great, but it's also been very taxing to teach different students every day, and often switching classes once, twice, or even thrice a day. I've learned so much about the students, the curriculum, and gotten to know many of the teachers, but I've lacked any real connection to a specific classroom. Lately, I've felt that every shred of energy I can muster was channeled into teaching, building relationships, and trying to further my position within my school's community. But today, as I signed a contract to be a homeroom teacher of a shared pre-Kindergarten class next year, I can say that my hard work paid off.

The timing of my Amsterdamiversary is actually quite fitting because today also happens to be the last day of school for me. It really felt like I was closing a chapter as I said goodbye to my students and colleagues, walked out of the school as a substitute-only for the last time, and watched the school fade into the background from the train window. And as I reflected back on my first year during the commute home, I felt content about all that has happened, proud of what I've accomplished, yet I also recognized how lost I've felt at times. But mostly, as with the end of any school year, I felt relieved that it was all over.

So tomorrow, as summer break begins, I will enter my second year in Amsterdam with enthusiasm for what lies ahead, gratitude that it begins with more direction than the last, and the motivation to keep making what I want of this life. I hope you'll join me for the ride!

Time to get naked.

There is something magical about those warm weather days that signify the beginning of summer. The sun blazes in the sky, toasting your skin and summoning drops of sweat to the surface. The air is fragrant with scents of flowers and barbecue smoke intermingling ever so deliciously. Parks are full of families laughing over a picnic lunch, lovers tangled on a blanket in the shade, dogs frolicking in the great wide open, and, if you're in Amsterdam or another large northern European city, a whole lot of naked children.

In Amsterdam, summer is a season in which I've come to expect to see the naked bums of children every time I enter a park and bare breasts every time I visit one of Holland's beaches. To which I say,

"I love it all. Bring on the nudity!"

I've come to find that the countries I've lived in outside of the States (alright, there are only two, but I know these two are representative of many more) embrace nudity a hell of a lot more than we do in the good old U S of A. This is not to say that the kind folks in South Korea indulge in nakedness the way people do in the Netherlands, but in both of these countries there exist places where it is widely accepted to take all your clothes off around other people. 

In South Korea they have jimjilbangs. Jimjilbangs are public bath houses where, separated by gender, people go to soak in hot tubs, revitalize in cold baths, and scrub their bodies clean. In the jimjilbang, you can find people of all ages embracing nudity together and doing whatever it is they need to do for hygienic and pampering purposes. 

I'll admit that my first experience at a jimjilbang wasn't comfortable from the get-go. I was still quite new to Korea and, thanks to a weekend trip that included a disgusting guesthouse bathroom and a Buddhist temple with no available shower, found myself in a situation where a jimjilbang was the only chance for a shower. Further, my travel buddies were also my co-workers, which made it just a bit more awkward. So yes, I was a bit apprehensive at first. I mean, I'm pretty sure the last time I had donned my birthday suit in front of a room of people was for middle school swimming. And even then, I didn't. No, at the ripe young age 14, I think just about every one of us changed awkwardly while trying to keep most of our goods hidden under our towels.

But here I was, getting naked with my colleagues, and surprise, surprise! It wasn't that scary. Once we let our guards (and our pants) down and entered the room with all the other naked ladies, all the nervousness slipped away. We were all equally vulnerable, and we were all equally powerful. After that, I made it a point to visit other jimjilbangs during my time in Seoul. First of all, it's quite difficult to say no to a nice hot tub, sauna, cold bath, and scrub down. It's also quite freeing and refreshing to be in a room where everyone feels comfortable in their own skin.

In the Netherlands they take it a step further with co-ed saunas. After becoming accustomed to the jimjilbang, going to a co-ed sauna wasn't too much of a shock. Yes, there are different bits and pieces present, but once again you are all equally vulnerable or equally powerful depending on how you want to look at it. What was a shock, however, was being naked around so many people of the opposite gender and never once feeling like I was being checked-out or sized-up. I have the same experience when I go topless at a beach here. When nudity is the norm, the lingering eyes aren't looking so hard to uncover the forbidden fruit. As refreshing as the jimjilbangs were, this is even better.

The more I find myself in situations where nudity is accepted, the more I wish I had grown up with this as the norm. Take, for example, the time my sister and I were in Iceland visiting a hot-spring pool. As we entered the changing room, I once again found myself surrounded by nude females of all ages. I couldn't help but notice the teenagers in this locker room, chatting it up comfortably while they stood around nude, and compare it to the very opposite experience of my middle school swimming days. It made me wonder how differently I would perceive my body had I grown up in a place where seeing other people naked - young, old and every age in between - was a frequent occurrence. Would I feel more beautiful? Would I be less critical?

How would I feel about my body if, instead of being taught to hide it out of modesty, it was commonplace to bare it in front of others? Would I feel more confident? Would I feel more powerful?

How different would my body image be if what I saw daily were the nude bodies of real women in addition to (because I'm afraid we just can't get away from them) the air-brushed-within-an-inch-of-their-lives super models that dominate advertisements and magazines?

What if this openness to nudity started when I was no older than a toddler running in the park?

So this, my readers, is why I'm all for nude saunas, topless beaches and naked baby bums in the park. Not because it's eye candy (though who doesn't love a cute baby's bottom?), but because I believe embracing the body in its natural form can only be a step in the right direction.

...

Photo credits:
Naked Hula Hoop by Todd Morris (CC-BY-20)

The Stolen Bike: A Rite of Passage

The expatriate life can be a tricky, emotional journey. If you're like me, with strong family and friend ties to the land from which you came, it often feels as if you're caught between two worlds. I seem to go back and forth between being ecstatic to live in Amsterdam and missing Minnesota to the point where my heart aches.

You see, on one hand, Amsterdam is most certainly my home. In late August 2013, I became an registered Amsterdammer (you may recall the post written excitedly after mijn verblijfsvergunning is ingewilligd). I've since planted roots by personalizing our flat, starting a job, and paying taxes here among other things. All the signs point to the fact that Amsterdam is my home, and most days I feel this way too.

On the other hand, I have moments when I wonder what exactly I'm doing here, and why I chose to move an ocean away from so many that I love (I'm pretty sure that just returning from a week in Florida with my family has something to do with these feelings rising to the surface). While I have become accustomed to the many differences between my old home and my new home, I don't necessarily feel that I fit in with Dutch culture and have realized that I'll never fully feel like a Dutch woman. 

Yes, being an expatriate has its ups and downs. And yesterday, I experienced a combination of both feelings in the event I'm now referring to as "The Stolen Bike: A Rite of Passage." As I'm sure you know, Amsterdam is full of bicycles. In fact, the data I find tells me that there are as many bikes as people, if not more, in Amsterdam proper. That said, I'm not sure why bicycle theft is such a problem since the research indicates everyone already has a bike, but unfortunately it is, and unfortunately I'm not immune to it.

My first bike in Amsterdam got me safely to my first wedding,
but ended up costing more money and causing more trouble than it was worth.

About two months ago, I purchased a brand new, shiny bike to replace the used bike that was starting to give me more trouble than it was worth. My goodness, how I loved my new ride. It was an omafiets (direct translation: grandma bicycle) which means that it had pedal brakes and no gears ... just an average yet beautiful street bike like the one your grandmother rode when she was young (or something like that). 

This empty space on the sidewalk is where my bike should be.

Imagine my disappointment when the husband and I walked down the stairs with a picnic in tow to find an empty sidewalk where my bike should have been. I was incredibly bummed. Not only were we no longer going to be able to ride to the Amstelpark and enjoy a picnic in the sun surrounded by budding flowers, but my beloved bicycle was gone. And probably forever.

It was then, well actually it was after a few tears were shed, that the husband tried to spin the event in a positive light (I think my gratitude project is having an effect on him as well). He shared the story of when his bike was stolen a few years back, he reminded me of our other friend's bike that was stolen a few months ago, and both stories then caused me to remember another friend who had her bike stolen this week. He helped me realize that as much as a stolen bike really, truly sucks, I have now gone through the Amsterdam rite of passage to become a true Amsterdammer. It's just too bad that I'm now an Amsterdammer without a bicycle.

So here I am, about to spend my afternoon looking for a new bike and reflecting to see if there is a lesson I can take away from this (a lesson besides the fact that it's probably a good idea to lock my bike to a rack instead of just to itself). What I'm finding is that no matter how comfortable I may feel some days, there are bound to be other days when I feel out of place. As happy as I am to be starting a marriage with the love of my life, there will always be part of me that misses my other loves across the ocean. The lows will continue to accompany the highs, but what matters most is how I choose to view the events that happen to me. So today, I choose to feel like a true Amsterdammer, to find a new set of wheels to take me where I need to go, and to enjoy my life as an expatriate.

Shopping in Amsterdam: A Love / Hate Relationship

I have a love / hate relationship with shopping in the Netherlands. I definitely love the abundance of flower stands and open air markets, but unfortunately the shopping is not all sunshine and tulips. Growing up in the States, I've been pretty spoiled by the convenience of American shopping. Shopping in Amsterdam, however, is a completely different story, and I attribute this to three main reasons:

1.) The hours and days of operation
2.) The store-specific availability of products
3.) The reality that I have to carry all purchases on my bike

In Amsterdam, most shops are open Monday through Saturday, from 9 or 10 am until about 6 pm. Grocery stores are an exception, opening for limited hours on Sundays, and often staying open until 10 pm every other day of the week. Another exception is Thursday, when stores will stay open until 9 pm to accommodate shoppers who work during normal shopping hours. Shops in Amsterdam's center are also open on Sundays, but believe me that unless you can navigate through crowds of tourists or fully embrace the virtue of patience, you'll want to stay far away.

At first, I perceived these limitations as inconveniences ... and I hated them. But then I changed my mind. I realized that they aren't necessarily inconvenient, they just mean that shopping has to be more of a planned activity. It also means that people are spending their time doing things other than working or shopping on evenings and Sundays. And I think we can all agree to love that, right?

Another thing that took some getting used to was going to many stores to acquire everything on my shopping list. Very often, my shopping list looks something like this:



In the States, this is a one-stop shopping list. In Amsterdam, however, I have to go to at least three stores to make these purchases ... possibly four if the grocery store doesn't have the specific light bulb I'm looking for. It's making these multiple stops to cross everything off my simple list (this is a pretty simple list, right?) that I like least about Amsterdam shopping.

I'm getting used to it though. And I'm actually starting to love the fact that Amsterdam doesn't have the one-stop everything stores so commonly found in the States. Instead, the city has a whole slew of neighborhood shops that specialize in specific items and offer a huge variety. While it takes a bit more effort, I never have to bike more than 1 km (or just over half a mile) to find all the items on my list. Plus, my neighborhood's butcher shop, seafood shop, cheese shop, flower shop, and pet shop (to name just a few) easily allow me to shop local and interact with store owners who are (usually) more than happy to help me make the best selection for my needs.

Lastly, there's the bike situation. This one is mostly love. I love being able to hop on my bike to go shopping. I love relying on my own legs to get me where I need to go, and I love getting exercise and fresh air while doing so. I also love that only being able to carry so much means that the husband and I buy groceries more frequently, and that this results in us buying more fresh foods.

There are times, of course, when I hate it. This mostly happens when it's raining, my bike decides to give me troubles, or I have a long list of items to buy resulting in multiple trips back to the flat. Like that one time I was planning a wedding and had to get ten vases back to our flat without breaking them. In the rain. Uphill both ways. Ok, maybe that last part wasn't true, but at that moment I was in the thick of my hate relationship with Amsterdam shopping. Thankfully, these times are few and far between. Usually, I'm the girl with my tote full of goods, slightly annoyed from going to a variety of stores, but mostly just happy to biking home in my new neighborhood.

February Grateful

As the second month of my grateful project comes to a close, I find that it only becomes easier for me to express gratitude on a daily basis. In fact, I'm finding that my whole outlook on life has changed as I now look at the world around me through a critical lens of gratitude. Every day I find at least (at least!) one thing to be grateful for, and documenting it is becoming as natural as breathing air. The overarching goal of this project was to keep gratitude at the forefront of my mind, and well, there it is. 

So this month, instead of just looking for things to be grateful for, I also made an attempt to change my perspective and view life's mishaps in a grateful light. A perfect example happened last Friday when, as the husband and I were biking to the city center for a date night, my bike tire went flat. At first I was cranky (this was my fourth flat tire in a matter of months), but then (with a little push from the husband) I decided that not only was I not going to let this mishap ruin the night, I was going to let it improve the night as well. So, we locked up the bikes and started to walk to our destination.

If you've ever been to Amsterdam, you know how magical the city is at night. The streetlights bounce off the cobblestones and dance on the canal waters. The houses look friendly and inviting, with warm, yellow light streaming from their windows. And this night in particular was cool and clear, with a few stars twinkling in the dark sky. As we strolled along the canals, hand in hand, I realized we never would've enjoyed this moment had I not gotten a flat tire. Instead of slowing down the night, we would've biked quickly to the pub, and quickly home again. But that night, our walk led us to stop into a few places we never would have visited had we been on our bikes. We even decided to walk the two miles home, pushing our bikes all the way back to our flat. By the time we crawled into bed, I was grateful for the flat tire and the wonderful evening to which it led.

The funny thing about this story is that, despite how grateful I am that it happened, it didn't even result in a grateful post. In fact, I can't even tell you how many days I've posted a grateful photo only to find myself, later in the day, thinking "Oh! But I'm grateful for this, too!" It seems to me that gratitude increases exponentially, and as I continue this project I find myself not only grateful for a multitude of things every day, but also increasingly grateful that I decided to do this project in the first place.


Previous installment:
January Grateful

Did we just skip winter?

This post is in no way intended to make my North American readers (especially those so affected by the polar vortex) feel jealous. But it probably will. So for that, I'm sorry.

Amsterdam is all green grass, blue skies and cherry blossoms this winter.

There were a handful of things that made me feel worried about moving to the Netherlands, and two in particular plagued my mind the most. The first was the fact that I was going to be living so far away from my friends and family with no real date set for when I would live near them again. The second was the weather.

The months I had spent in Amsterdam prior to my move evoked the second worry. My visits were either warmer than I preferred, wet and rainy, or colder than I preferred, wet and rainy. I vividly remember that excited feeling I had while packing for my first summer in Amsterdam, carefully folding all my sundresses, skirts and tank tops, throwing in a few cardigans for the colder days, and tucking my sandals along the side of the suitcase. I was so enthusiastic about spending the summer with my man, cruising around on my bike wearing a flowery dress, lounging in the park wearing a flowery dress, drinking coffee or beer at a café in the sunshine wearing a flowery dress ... you get the idea. That said, I also vividly remember that disappointed feeling I had while buying a completely new wardrobe once I arrived, a wardrobe that consisted of jeans, sweaters, scarves and closed-toed shoes. You see, I like my summers to be in the high 70s if we're talking Fahrenheit, in the mid 20s if we're talking Celsius, and full of sunshine no matter what. Anticipating that my summer temperatures would now be in the high 60s if we're talking Fahrenheit, right around 20 degrees if we're talking Celsius, and often accompanied by a chance of showers didn't exactly thrill me.

And the winters? Well, while the two Januarys (Januaries? I don't think I've ever written the plural of a month ending in y before) I spent in Amsterdam were warmer than pretty much any January in Minnesota, the warmer weather usually just meant that it rained more. Plus, it was still cold. Not necessarily freezing, but still cold. Now, it does snow in Amsterdam, and every few years the canals freeze over lending themselves to a fantastic skating experience I've yet to behold, but my short rendezvous with Amsterdam winters had mostly left me feeling like a shivering, drowned rat (pictured in this post).

So just imagine my surprise! My excitement! My elation! When I discovered that my worries about the weather were all for naught. This summer in Amsterdam was absolutely beautiful, and I took full advantage of this by basking in the sun on my balcony, picnicking in the park, and drinking coffee and beer at cafés in the sunshine. My only regret was that I neglected to pack my full collection of sundresses when I moved, thinking that they would spend most of their time hanging in my closet, taunting me every time I reached for a long-sleeved shirt instead.

And this winter? Well, I think we actually may have skipped it. As of now, we've only had a handful of days during which the lowest temperature dipped below freezing, and the maybe two not-even-worth-talking-about snowfalls lasted about five seconds with all flakes melting before they hit the ground. At first, I wasn't so happy about the lack of snow (I like my winters white ... and am beginning to realize that I have quite a long list of preferences regarding the weather), but now that we approach March and I find myself biking to work without gloves, I'm starting to change my mind.

If we did, indeed, skip winter, you won't hear me complaining. If this phenomenal Dutch weather continues, I may write off that initial worry altogether. And if you're looking for a reason behind this great weather, well, I like to think I brought it with me.

January Grateful

Well boys and girls, it would appear that we are now in the month of February ... and that I'm talking like a teacher. This means two things. First, I've completed the first month of documenting my daily gratitude. Second, after months of searching, I have finally found employment as a substitute teacher. I must say, as I reflect on all these photographs and my first week back in the classroom, I definitely have a lot to be grateful for.

This may sound dramatic, but I honestly feel that after only one month this grateful project is changing my life for the better. As you may remember from this post, I was feeling very discouraged toward the end of last year. It seemed like every bit of news I received presented me with an obstacle and I wasn't sure how I was going to fix my situation. As I entered January, however, it was clear that I needed to break out of the negative cycle I was falling into.

Now here I am, one month later, actively searching the world for things I am grateful for on a daily basis. Sometimes it's easy; I wake up and immediately find myself filled with gratitude. Some days it's a bit more difficult and I have to search a little harder. But everyday there is something. There is always something to give thanks for, and taking the time to do it makes all the difference. Seriously. It makes a huge difference.

As soon as I fell into the groove of expressing my gratitude, and before I even knew what was happening, I felt like the universe was throwing great things at me faster than I could react. I found the motivation and inspiration to keep this blog more up-to-date, I started some freelance editing projects and found a new student to tutor. Most exciting, I found a school that was willing and able to hire me based on my Minnesota teaching credentials and master's degree, and despite the fact that my degree is not yet validated by the Dutch Office of Education. In fact, my life has been so full lately that I've even fallen asleep a few nights before posting my grateful photo to the blog. But don't you worry, I won't be making a habit of it, and you can trust that I've taken a photo every day, regardless of the date it was posted.

So with that, I close the first month of grateful and open the second. I can't wait to see what happens next.

(Some of) My Shmamsterdam Truths

This has been one crazy week so far. My life's busy factor has been off the charts and I've hardly found time to cook dinner let alone write a blog post. Tonight, however, the husband has a haircut appointment and I'm doing everything in my power to stay awake until he gets home. So, here is the fruit of my efforts: a post on some Shmamsterdam Truths. I've decided to call them Shmamsterdam Truths instead of Amsterdam Truths because, well, even though I've found them to be true, they might not be true for everyone.

This fall, I bought a pair of jeans from H&M. Now I know you're probably thinking that H&M jeans wear out faster than any other brand, and that very well might be the case, but I buy H&M jeans all the time so I am well aware of their shelf-life. This pair of jeans, however, black jeans with the small zippers on the bottoms of the legs, started pilling in the bum area quite quickly. Was it from sitting on the floor with my nanny kids? Was it from spending to much time sitting on the couch looking for jobs (ok, and maybe watching some TV too)? I just couldn't figure what had caused my jeans to deteriorate so quickly, so I let it go. That is, I let it go until I bought another pair of jeans and the same thing happened. I then realized that this strange phenomenon is likely due to the fact that I bike everywhere.

So there you have it, wear and tear from the bike seat is causing my jeans to fall apart. Maybe it's time to invest in higher quality jeans after all.

This statement is actually a bold-faced lie because the other day, someone did. I had plans to get together with an American girl who was a friend of my friend's friend who I had met once in New York (you can draw a diagram if that helps your comprehension) when I received a message from her asking if we could reschedule due to forecasted rain. Seems normal enough, I suppose, but rain is just not something you can plan around in Amsterdam. In Amsterdam, rain is part of everyday life and you just have to deal with it. I even remember telling the husband, who was getting ready for work at the time, "I don't have plans anymore, we rescheduled because of the rain." He looked at me, baffled, and let out a chuckle.

So there you have it, no one will ask you for a rain check in Amsterdam (unless they are a new expatriate).

I can still vividly remember one special morning this fall. The sun was shining, the air was crisp, and I was finally finally feeling really good about myself on the bicycle. Cycling in Amsterdam has been a bit of a challenge for me. It seems that every time I had started to get really comfortable navigating the roads, traffic, and other bikers, my trip would come to an end and I would have to go back to Minnesota. But by the time this autumn rolled around, I had had months of practice, my confidence had reached new levels, and there was no looming plane ticket to interrupt my success. At this point I was an Amsterdam resident, and biking was now, officially, part of my life. This particular morning, I was biking to a nannying job along one of those roads that had left me with white knuckled hands gripping the handlebars in the past. But today, I was at ease ... until a kid who looked about six years old (and his dad) came up from behind and passed me right by.

So there you have it, there's nothing like a young kid cruising by on his bike to trample all over your accomplishments. Though, he's probably been biking since he was four which means he has at least one more year of experience than I.

The reason my week has been so hectic is because I accepted a substitute teaching position at an international school. Every day this week, I am in the classroom teaching second graders. It has pretty much quadrupled my normal week's workload and at least quintupled my normal week's excitement factor. On my first day, one of the students celebrated his birthday with a fruit tray and homemade cupcakes brought in by his mother. Did you catch that? Homemade cupcakes! Can you remember the last time any type of homemade food was allowed in a school? I'm probably only talking to Americans when I ask this, but seriously, I think it was more than twenty years ago that they stopped allowing us to bring in homemade treats. At first, I thought it was poisoned, naturally, but I'm still alive to talk about it, so it was just a delicious cupcake after all.

So there you have it, I'm living in a land where students can bring homemade treats to school ... and I'm teaching in a school so I get to eat them. No complaints here!

A Seven-Month Reflection

I totally meant to write this post at the six month mark, but the month of December completely got away from me as far as blogging goes. So, without further ado, here it is:

The view from our apartment in summer.

This Saturday, I will have officially spent seven months living in Amsterdam. I will have spent seven months living without a clothes dryer or a microwave. Seven months in an apartment with one (one!) tiny, built-in closet. Seven months without measuring cups or spoons. And seven months in a country that doesn't sell ingredients I had never thought twice about before, like corn syrup, baking soda, and monterey jack cheese, yet has a whole section devoted to black licorice.

No thank you.

For seven months I've dearly missed my family, my friends, and the countless delicious flavors of single serving yogurt cups. Oh yea, and I've spent an outrageous amount of money at the foreign food store to by some must-haves from home (would you believe that a box of graham crackers is €9 and Kraft macaroni & cheese nearly €4?).

I've also spent seven months turning a new apartment into a home, finding creative solutions to the lack of storage space and learning how to practice a more minimalistic lifestyle. I've spent seven months trying new recipes, new ingredients and new ways of cooking. I've spent seven months relying on my legs and my bicycle to get me just about everywhere I need to go. Seven months searching for a job and overcoming frustration to develop my patience. Seven months discovering a new city, experiencing a new culture, and making new friends. And did I mention that I've spent the last seven months living with a boy?

Our cozy home decorated for Christmas.

These first seven months have been quite the ride, not to mention quite the adjustment period. It's been difficult to be so far away from my family and friends, but thanks to strong relationships and modern technology, I am able to stay connected. And yes, it may be easy to rattle off the things that I miss about home in Minnesota, but I can just as easily rattle off the things I miss about the other homes I've made in Chicago and South Korea. Plus, I know that if I were to move back right now, I would have a whole new list of the things I miss about Amsterdam.

So, as I close this chapter of my first months in Amsterdam, I keep myself open to new experiences and will continue to adapt the best I can. I have a good feeling for my future here and am excited to see what it has in store. (Hopefully it includes a teaching position).

Oh to be Dutch!

The first time I came to Amsterdam for an extended period of time was in January 2012. I spent this month not only getting to know the husband better, but looking at the city with a critical eye. Could I live here? Could I fit in here? Do I want to live and fit in here? While mulling over these questions and exploring my surroundings, I made a few observations about Dutch people, and about Dutch women in general.

The first thing I noticed was that Dutch women are tall. In fact, Dutch people are tallest in the world. With my five foot two inch (or 157 centimeter) frame, it was blatantly obvious that no, I would not be fitting in this way. But, let's be realistic, my height has never helped me fit in anywhere but South Korea. So, while this didn't have much impact on my decision to move here, it has impacted my life a bit. I now find myself looking at a lot of shoulders. I find myself avoiding concerts that are standing room only because, well, staying at home and listening to a live album is better than listening to live music while getting pushed around and staring at someone's back. I also ask for a lot of help reaching things off the highest shelf at the supermarket. Things could definitely be worse.

Another thing I noticed was that most Dutch women seemed very relaxed in their style. While my winter wardrobe at the time consisted mainly of dresses and big sweater cardigans with knee high boots, the common uniform of Dutch women seemed to be jeans and sweaters with ankle boots or sneakers. Their style gave the appearance of ease. They looked comfortable and casual, as if they dressed without effort. As for hair and make-up, well, there seemed to be little fuss made over either. Even while out on a weekend night, the majority of women were wearing casual clothes and minimal make-up, their hair tied up in a no-fuss bun.

I realize that describing the style of Dutch women in one paragraph is risky, a sweeping generalization, but my observations gave me the overall feeling that Dutch women are much less maintenance than women in the States. I found it refreshing. And then I found out why.

After trying very hard and to no avail, I realized that it's the long legs of Dutch women that make jeans with sneakers or ankle high boots look stylish. My legs, on the other hand, legs that require each and every pair of pants I buy to be hemmed by at least two inches, don't. They just don't. So, though I may be one of the only, I'll be that girl in the café wearing tall boots with heels.

Secondly, in a city that experiences frequent rainy weather and relies on bicycles as a main mode of transportation, doing your hair and make-up is just not worth it. Take today, for example. I started out having a great hair day. My locks were blown sleek and smooth, and my bangs were obeying my wishes. Then I went on a bike ride. And even with my scarf wrapped carefully around my head, I ended up looking like this:

Not impressed.

Bangs wet and plastered to the face, hair weirdly waved and stringy, and new jeans soaked through, dying my legs blue. But as far as biking-in-the-rain days go, today was a pretty good day. There have been other days when I've reached my destination looking like this:

Even less impressed ... and a little sad.

A picture is worth a thousand words, so I'll spare a lengthy analysis and sum it up: Dutch women don't spend too much time fussing with their hair and make-up because they're smart. They know chances are good that the seemingly ever-present clouds will just ruin whatever effort they put forth, so they choose to avoid the hassle and the disappointment.

As for me? Well, I'm proving that I can live here, but I'm not sure that I can fit in completely (and not just because I'm short). As nice as it would be to embrace the Dutch female mentality, I'm probably going to keep doing my hair and wearing mascara because gosh darn it, I like to. And I'm also going to keep wearing my dresses and tights ... because they dry faster.

Thanksgiving Dinner: A Comprehensive Guide

Last Saturday we invited some friends over to our apartment for an early Thanksgiving dinner. It felt strange to celebrate the holiday on a Saturday, but for obvious reasons Holland doesn't give people the day off on Thursday, so Saturday it was! This Thanksgiving was not only my first attempt at cooking the entire meal myself (ok, maybe the husband helped a bit), but it was many of our friends' first Thanksgiving meal as well. I felt very lucky to cook for so many first-timers as I was guaranteed not to have to compete with Grandma's Famous Stuffing or hear about how someone's mom's sweet potatoes are the best ever. No, all I had to compete with was the oh-so-famous Norman Rockwell painting, so I made sure to have the turkey proudly displayed on the table when everyone arrived.

Feeling oh-so-happy that my attempt was a success.

Everyone was quite impressed (and probably feeling a bit hungry) at the sight of that large, lovely bird on the table.

Everyone, that is, including myself. I knew cooking Thanksgiving was going to be a huge undertaking (and it was!) but it went much more smoothly than I could have imagined (after I spent about an hour converting all my recipes from US measurements to metric units). The only thing I would change for next year is to try a more impressive pumpkin pie recipe, to set the table earlier (a difficult task in our apartment as the lack of counter space dictates that the table is also used for meal preparation), and also to start the day-of preparation a bit earlier.

That said, I will provide a little guide for putting together a nice Thanksgiving for anyone who may be interested!

Thanksgiving Menu

Turkey

Gravy

Stuffing

Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Sweet Potato Casserole

Green Bean Casserole

Corn Casserole

Baguette

Pumpkin Pie

Rice Pudding

Day 1: Grocery Day

Shopping List for eight guests:
a turkey*
white bread (to yield 4 cups cubed)
baguette (or two) for serving

baking potatoes (2 kg or 9 medium-sized potatoes)

sweet potatoes (1 kg to yield 4 cups cubed)

garlic (4 cloves)

1 apple (I used Granny Smith)

2 onions

carrot (just one or two large carrots is all you need)

1 bunch celery

fresh rosemary

fresh thyme

fresh parsley

dried sage

salt

black pepper

ground cinnamon

ground ginger

ground nutmeg

vanilla extract (1.5 teaspoons)

chopped pecans (50g or 1/2 cup)

frozen cut green beans (500g or 2- 9 oz. packages)

French fried onions (1- 6oz can or 2- 100g cans )

chicken broth (400 ml or 14.5 oz can)

1 (10 3/4 oz. or about 320g) can cream of mushroom soup

1 (15 1/4 oz. or about 425g) can whole kernel corn, drained
1 (14 3/4 oz. or about 425g) can cream-style corn
1 (8-ounce) package corn muffin mix (recommended: Jiffy)

1 (15 ounce or about 425g) can pumpkin

1 (14 ounce or about 400g) can sweetened condensed milk

golden raisins (1 cup optional for rice pudding)

shredded cheddar cheese (1 cup)

eggs (6)

butter (500g or five sticks -- will yield extra for the table)

milk (1 liter or 4 cups -- plus a few tablespoons more for mashed potatoes)
whipped cream

sour cream (300g or about 12 oz.) 

all-purpose flour (40g or 1/3 cup -- plus a little more to thicken the gravy)

brown sugar (110g  or 1/2 cup)

white sugar (240g or about 1.5 cups) 

white rice (to yield 3 cups cooked)

1 (9 inch) unbaked pie crust (I made my own as unbaked pie crusts are very difficult to find in Amsterdam. Unfortunately, I was not happy with my crust so I will not post the recipe here).

*Turkey tips:

• I read that you need anywhere from 1-2 pounds per person, so I bought a 15 pound turkey. This turkey was big enough to feed everyone and yield some yummy leftovers.
• Keep in mind that a frozen turkey can take at least three days to thaw and plan accordingly.
• For all you Americans in Amsterdam, I bought my turkey at Kema Vlees on the Kinkerstraat. I ordered it on Monday and picked it up fresh, not frozen, on Friday. Other American-specific ingredients (cream-style corn, corn muffin mix, can of pumpkin, sweetened condensed milk, and cream of mushroom soup, etc.) were purchased at Eichholtz on the Leidsestraat.

Day 2: Initial Preparation

On the second day of Thanksgiving preparation I made the pumpkin pie, rice pudding, and herb butter for the turkey, started the sweet potato casserole and began to prep the stuffing. While cooking, I couldn't help think of my aunt Marcy who used to make Thanksgiving dinner for us every year in her tiny kitchen. She would make the desserts the day before and then line them up on the stairs to her attic which was unheated and as cold as a refrigerator. Though she would make anywhere from two to three pies and two kinds of pudding, I scaled back a bit and picked my favorite two.

I started by making the rice for the pudding and, while waiting for it to finish, made the pie. I set aside the rice when it was done, and continued the pudding when the pie was in the oven. Also important to note is that listening to Christmas music makes this process much more fun.

Pumpkin Pie

INGREDIENTS:

1 (15 ounce) can pumpkin

1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk

2 large eggs

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 (9 inch) unbaked pie crust

DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 220 degrees C / 425 degrees F. 
Whisk pumpkin, sweetened condensed milk, eggs, spices and salt in medium bowl until smooth. 
Pour into crust. Bake 15 minutes.

Reduce oven temperature to 175 degrees C / 350 degrees F and continue baking 35 to 40 minutes or until knife inserted 1 inch from crust comes out clean.

Creamy Rice Pudding

INGREDIENTS:

Cooked white rice to yield 3 cups cooked rice

700 ml  or 3 cups milk

134g or 2/3 cup white sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 eggs, beaten

1 cup golden raisins (optional)

30g or 2 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

DIRECTIONS:

In a clean saucepan, combine cooked rice, milk, sugar, and salt. 
Cook over medium heat until thick and creamy, about 15 to 20 minutes, stirring constantly. 
Stir in eggs and keep over heat until the mixture thickens. 
Remove from heat and stir in butter and vanilla. 
Serve immediately or pour into casserole and place plastic wrap directly over warm pudding to keep a skin from forming. 
Place in warm oven to warm up prior to serving, or serve at room temperature.

Once the rice pudding was finished, I chopped the bread, celery and onions for the stuffing. I set aside the bread in an open bowl (it's not a problem if the bread is stale) and put the celery and onions together in a tupperware container.

I then chopped some of the fresh rosemary and thyme for the herb butter. Next, I mixed the herbs with approximately 40 grams or 3 tablespoons of softened butter, dried sage, and a little salt, and refrigerated it for turkey prep the next morning.

Lastly, I prepped the sweet potato casserole, following all directions but stopping short of making the topping (though I did chop the pecans) and baking it. Instead, I covered it and put it in the refrigerator for the next day.

Sweet Potato Casserole (prep-only portion of recipe)

INGREDIENTS:

1 kg or 4 cups sweet potato, cubed

100g or 1/2 cup white sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 teaspoon (pinch) salt

60g or 4 tablespoons butter, softened

120ml or 1/2 cup milk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Put sweet potatoes in a medium saucepan with water to cover. 

Cook over medium high heat until tender; drain and mash.

In a large bowl, mix together the sweet potatoes, white sugar, eggs, salt, butter, milk and vanilla extract. 

Mix until smooth. Transfer to a 9x13 inch baking dish. Cool, cover and refrigerate.

Day 3: Thanksgiving

Our Thanksgiving meal started at 6pm which is very late by some families' standards. That said, the times I include in this portion may have to be adjusted.

The husband and I started prepping the turkey at noon, following this plan outlined by my dear mother (thanks Mom!):

1.) Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C / 400 degrees F.

2.) Wash the turkey and remove the giblets from the cavity.

3.) Liberally season the cavity salt, pepper and poultry seasoning.

4.) Stuff the cavity with quartered onion, sliced carrot, sliced celery and fresh rosemary.

5.) Tie legs together with kitchen string and tuck wings under the bird.

6.) Loosen skin on top of turkey breast (I used my hand) and insert herb butter (prepared yesterday). Pat the top of the breast to distribute butter under the skin.

7.) Rub the entire exterior of the turkey with salt and pepper.

8.) Liberally rub the turkey breast with butter (about 80g or one stick minus what you used for the herb butter).

9.) Place turkey in roasting pan and add 220 ml or 1 cup of water to bottom of pan. Cover with foil.

10.) Put turkey in the oven and immediately turn down the oven temperature to 160 degrees C / 325 degrees F.

11.) Bake 15 minutes per pound, basting occasionally.

12.) Uncover turkey after the first two hours to let it brown.

13.) Let turkey rest at least 30 minutes, tented with foil.

14.) Carve and enjoy!

Once we had the turkey in the oven, we took the next few hours to play a game, clean the house and get it ready for our guests. At this point we also took the desserts our of the refrigerator to ensure that they were at room temperature by the time we served them. We cooked our turkey for 4 hours, but next time I wouldn't cook it as long as it seemed a little dry to me. Our turkey did not have that fancy little button that tells you when it's done, nor do we have a meat thermometer, but the latter will definitely be fixed before next Thanksgiving.

At 4:00pm, an hour before the turkey was finished and two hours before dinner was served, we started the rest of the cooking. Though, as I mentioned earlier, next year I will start this process a bit earlier. My plan was to prep the final dishes so that they were all ready by the time I took the turkey out of the oven at 5:00pm. At that point I would raise the oven temperature (all dishes required the same 175 degrees C / 350 degrees F oven temperature, thank goodness!) and start putting the rest of the dishes in the order they needed to go (first the stuffing, then the corn casserole, and finally the sweet potato casserole and the green bean casserole). While I took charge on these dishes, Philippe went to work on the mashed potatoes and hand-washing the dishes as I finished using them.   

I started with the corn casserole, completing all the preparation up until putting it in the oven. Then, I prepped the green bean casserole. Next, I made the topping for the sweet potato casserole and sprinkled it on top. I saved the stuffing preparation for last because I didn't want the bread to sit in the broth for too long. And after all that, it was oven time!

Side note: I am including all the recipes now even though I did not complete all steps of the recipes at this point in my execution of the meal.

Garlic Mashed Potatoes

INGREDIENTS:

3 medium baking potatoes peeled and coarsely chopped

1 teaspoon salt

120g or 8 tablespoons butter, at room temperature

60g or 1/4 cup sour cream, at room temperature

4 cloves finely minced garlic

1 tablespoon (or more) whole milk, at room temperature or warmed

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

DIRECTIONS:

In a medium saucepan, cook the potatoes in salted water until tender, about 15 minutes. 
Drain the potatoes and return them to the saucepan.

Add the butter, sour cream and garlic. 
Mash the potatoes with a potato masher or the back of a fork until the ingredients are blended. 
Add the milk, 1 tablespoon at a time, until the potatoes are the desired consistency. 
Taste and add salt and pepper, if needed. 

Corn Pudding

INGREDIENTS:1 (15 1/4 oz. or about 425g) can whole kernel corn, drained
1 (14 3/4 oz. or about 425g) can cream-style corn
1 (8-ounce) package corn muffin mix (recommended: Jiffy)
230g (1 cup or 8 oz.) sour cream
60g (1/2 stick) butter, melted
1 to 1 1/2 cups shredded Cheddar

DIRECTIONS:
In a large bowl, stir together the 2 cans of corn, corn muffin mix, sour cream, and melted butter. 
Pour into a greased 9 by 13-inch casserole dish. 
Bake for 45 minutes at 175 degrees C / 350 degrees F, or until golden brown. 
Remove from oven and top with shredded cheddar. 
Return to oven for 5 to 10 minutes, or until cheese is melted. 
Let stand for at least 5 minutes and then serve warm.

Green Bean Hot Dish

INGREDIENTS:

1 (10 3/4 oz. or about 320g) can cream of mushroom soup

180 ml or 3/4 cup milk

1/8 tsp. black pepper

500g or 2 (9 oz. each) pkgs. frozen cut green beans, thawed

1- 6oz can or 2- 100g cans (1 1/3 cups) fried onions

DIRECTIONS:

Mix soup, milk and pepper in a baking dish.

Stir in beans and 2/3 cup fried onions.

Bake at 175 degrees C / 350 degrees F for 30 minutes or until hot. Stir.

Top with remaining 2/3 cup onions.

Bake 5 minutes until onions are golden.

Sweet Potato Casserole 

INGREDIENTS:

4 cups sweet potato, cubed

100g (1/2 cup) white sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 teaspoon salt

60g (4 tablespoons) butter, softened

120ml (1/2 cup) milk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

TOPPING: 

110g (1/2 cup) packed brown sugar

43g (1/3 cup) all-purpose flour

40g (3 tablespoons) butter, softened

1/2 cup chopped pecans

DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). 
Put sweet potatoes in a medium saucepan with water to cover. 
Cook over medium high heat until tender; drain and mash.

In a large bowl, mix together the sweet potatoes, white sugar, eggs, salt, butter, milk and vanilla extract. 

Mix until smooth. Transfer to a 9x13 inch baking dish.

In medium bowl, mix the brown sugar and flour. 
Cut in the butter until the mixture is coarse. Stir in the pecans. 
Sprinkle the mixture over the sweet potato mixture.

Bake in the preheated oven 30 minutes, or until the topping is lightly brown.

Stuffing

INGREDIENTS:

4 cups cubed white bread

1 cup chopped onion

1 cup chopped celery

2 1/2 teaspoons dried sage

1 1/2 teaspoons fresh rosemary

1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme

1 apple, cored and chopped

1/3 cup minced fresh parsley

400 ml chicken broth

60 g butter (1/2 stick)

DIRECTIONS:

Spread the cubes in a single layer on a large baking sheet. 
Bake for 5 to 7 minutes in the preheated oven, or until evenly toasted. 
Transfer toasted bread cubes to a large bowl.

In a large skillet, cook the butter, onions, celery and apple over medium heat. 
Add the sage, rosemary, and thyme; cook, stirring, to blend flavors. 
Add the chicken broth and simmer.

Pour skillet mixture over bread in bowl. Mix.

Cook covered for 30 minutes at 175 degrees C / 350 degrees F. 
Cook uncovered for 30 more minutes.

The four side dishes required an hour of oven time total. 

00:00 - Turkey comes out of the oven and stuffing goes in the oven (covered)

00:10 - Corn casserole goes in the oven

00:25 - Green bean casserole goes in

00:30 - Sweet potato casserole goes in the oven and the cover comes off the stuffing

00:50 - Add cheddar cheese to the top of the corn casserole

00:55 - Add the remaining friend onions to the top of the green bean casserole

1:00 - Take everything out of the oven

I was incredibly lucky to have the husband simultaneously helping me clean up as I went and making the mashed potatoes. Once my dishes were in the oven, I was then able to do some final clean up, set the table and attempt to make myself look presentable for guests. Without him, I probably would've made the mashed potatoes during this last hour of cooking and ultimately been much, much more stressed. I think it's doable, but I would highly recommend making Thanksgiving with a partner or asking a guest to come an hour early to help you with the final preparations.

Our guests started to arrive just as the food was ready.

Stuffing, Corn Casserole and Sweet Potato Casserole.

While the husband started carving the turkey, I made gravy by bringing the turkey juices to a boil and then thickening it with a bit of flour mixed in cold water. Neither of us had carved a turkey before, so we watched a video on YouTube and then tried to remember what we had seen. It went pretty well, and our friends were eager to help. Or maybe they were just ready to eat...

Carving the turkey...

It's a two person job. 

Ok, maybe a three person job.

Plates filled and ready to eat.

In honor of my aunt Marcy, I had everyone at the table share something they were thankful for before we began our meal. Marcy used to always tell us how thankful she was for us, and I wanted to be sure my guests knew how thankful I am that they have made me feel at home in this new city. It was a very meaningful day for me as Marcy was constantly in my thoughts as I made this meal. She was also in my thoughts after the meal as we washed all of the dishes by hand. You see, like her, we do not own a dishwasher.

After dinner we let our stomachs rest while we played a game and started a movie. Partway during the film I served both the pumpkin pie and rice pudding with a dollop of whipped cream, creating a sweet ending to this lovely, cozy holiday.



Photos by Tiago Rosado