I have been a frequent and enthusiastic visitor to Amsterdam throughout my life - an Amsterdammer in spirit, if not in technical fact. From the first visit with my family at 11 years old, I have loved the city of canals and bicycles. As unique in physical form as it is in nature, for centuries notoriously accepting of variety and vices of all kinds, most notably sex and drugs, undoubtedly countless "first times" of all kinds have occurred here. But my "first" is less titillating, though possibly more profound than those.Amsterdam is where I first realized what a tolerant, liberal, progressive and vibrant city could be. Compared to the "just this side of medieval" small German town in which I was living during my youth, Amsterdam was a startling wonder.

Holland is full!? But if Amsterdam was once the high water mark of cosmopolitan and progressive cities, it has been slipping of late. Declaring that "Holland is full!", the current, staunchly anti-immigration, Dutch government is in the midst of organizing the largest expulsion of asylum seekers in Europe.

Racial tensions overflowing

Racial tensions have subsequently risen to the point where Theo van Gogh, decendent of the famous artist's brother, himself a prominent filmmaker critical of Islam, has been murdered by an Islamic extremist. In the immediate aftermath Islamic institutions have been torched and vandalized and hate crimes rose sharply. Moderate, egalitarian Amsterdam is fast becoming a place of extremes.

Amsterdam has been a "global city" in terms of trade and prominence, since the 17th century at least. Ironically now, as many other cities grapple with the challenges of globalism, some elements within Amsterdam are turning their back on the world, building walls and reinforcing borders, becoming, in a sense, merely "local". The city whose draw-bridges have been raised to play willing host to the ships, people and products of the world, now looks to the foreign with suspicion and mistrust. It is alarming, to say the least, and also a cautionary tale, to watch my childhood utopia Amsterdam turn dystopian.

a bicycle is all the passport you need...

In an apparent attempt to counter this negative image, city officials have commissioned leading international advertising and communications firm Kessels Kramer to create a book and museum exhibition entitled, "I am Amsterdam". The image-heavy book documents many aspects of Amsterdam life, with work of several of the talent laden city's leading photographers. It is as beautiful and expressive a city book as has been produced in recent years, though its timing is unfortunate, or perhaps an excercise in positive reinforcement. As the city itself is undergoing unprecedented upheaval, the works chosen for the book and exhibit, themselves exhibit the best possible scenario of strength in diversity. Attending the exhibit at Foam photography museum, I was struck by the sharp contrast between this very sympathetic portrayal and some of the ugliness which is currently portrayed in the international news.

Photographer Hans Eijkelboom's images of the ubiquitous bicyclists of the city were, for me, the most poignant reminder of both the diversity and the commonality of its citizens which still exists. Amsterdam is, first and foremost, a town of bicycle fetishists - the paths and streets are absolutely full of them. If Amsterdam itself were a photograph, wooden shoes, windmills and tulips would appear out of focus in the distant background. The bicycle is the true icon of everyday Amsterdam - home to some 600,000 of them. Eijkelboom has captured images of people of all ages and cultural backgrounds - Surinami, Moroccan, Turkish, Indonesian, and yes, Dutch - all joined in riding this universal symbol of Amsterdam.

the bicycle as pick-up truck

The majority of Amsterdammers own one or more bicycles which they ride on a regular basis. From the seemingly endless number of sidewalk cafes, I often sit for hours and watch them rattle and clatter by, mostly on older bicycles, along the cobblestone streets and bicycle paths. In egalitarian Amsterdam there is no such thing as a "Mercedes-Benz of bicycles". But where you and I may see a man or a woman on a creaking, rusty bicycle, true Amsterdammers seem to think of their two wheel vehicles as something closer to a pick-up truck.

Looking up from my fluitje of local beer I have witnessed a wide variety of bicycle-related feats unimaginable in most parts of the world. I have seen bicycling Amsterdammers holding chairs to be reupholstered, some carrying children on front and back, others with boxes under one arm, still others with a small dog on the back book rack and many, many talking on mobile phones while deftly negotiating their way through dense pedestrian and vehicular traffic. From a sidewalk cafe near the Amstel hotel, I watched Amsterdammers roll by, in their thousands.

The variety of life in Amsterdam can be observed in the simple actions of its bicyclists. A young mother stopped her bicycle, her small child on the back seat crying uncontrollably. Unable to console, or even understand why her child was so upset, the woman looked to those of us on the nearby patio with some embarrassment, until a smiling man in a business suit rode by and dropped a doll in the child's lap.

Close behind, two men in their thirties - old enough to know better - rode by laughing with one perched precariously on the front handlebars. Likely off for an after work drink. Although it sounds comical to Canadian ears, I have actually been told that bicycling drunk is a significant problem in Holland. Soon after a small group of large people with Texan accents rode by. The heavy man in the lead shouting the praises of Amsterdam and bicycle culture over his shoulder, "I think I've lost 20 pounds already". A new Amsterdammer, I believe.

Amsterdam, like the Dutch gin Jenever, is supposed to be full

Renting a bicycle is also the best way to get away from the most crassly touristic elements of central Amsterdam to the truly charming neighbourhoods, such as the Jordaan and De Pijp which are a short pedal away. In these areas, I have spent time on quieter streets and visited traditional Bruin cafes (brown cafes) with the "real" Amsterdammers. They've taught me how to drink Jenever, Dutch gin, which according to strictly followed custom must be poured to the point of almost spilling over the edges. Many of the more traditional cafes even have leather straps along the bar to help older drinkers, whose hands may be shaking, to enjoy their Jenever as full as it is meant to be - without spilling. Some may believe it could be alcoholism, not simply old age, which causes the hands to shake. But in Amsterdam they don't judge. In contrast to those who claim "Holland is full" and would deport so many of its citizens, I say, just like Jenever, Amsterdam is supposed to be full.

I am Amsterdam!

On the final day of a recent trip, I decided to test my skills as an ever-aspiring Amsterdammer, and rode two kilometres to the train station on bicycle with my luggage resting on the crossbar and balancing between my forearms. It turned out to be surprisingly easy. I wanted to shout "I am Amsterdam!" - more so than many who live there.

 

To buy the book, I Amsterdam : www.uitgeverijpodium.nl

 

related articles:

amsterdam city images