Kids in the Holland

How beautiful a society. How quaint and enlightened and kind.
On the third day in The Netherlands I said, "Fuck it," grabbed a bike, and started pedaling.
They really are everywhere, and though I understood that I would be seeing a lot of cyclists, I just couldn't grasp just how many there would be.
Everyone rides a bike, and though you see it and say, "Oh, isn't that environmental. Doesn't that make sense?" it's still bizarre to see a man in a three-piece suit rolling by, ringing his bell. Women in full-length skirts, or ball-gown regalia. It's not just that they use bikes all of the time, they use them for all events.
Another thing I didn't expect (and I loved this) is that they run, if need be, despite their dress.
A couple of times I saw 50-somethings sprint by me, rushing to catch a train or tram, their scarff billowing behind them.
That's where my 'enlightened' comment comes from.
It's important to understand this if you have never been to Holland before: It's simply better there. It's better in every conceivable way.
It is clean (in fact, outside of Amsterdam, I'd go so far as to say it was spotless, and I'm sure the garbage from Amsterdam is a result of the goddamn tourists), it is effecient, and it is tolerant.
Being in an entirely tolerant place means that everyone gets to do their own thing their own way.
Of course, those of you who know me understand that I must find this very appealing, but why wouldn't it be appealing to you as well? Just because I like to stir things up socially doesn't mean you wouldn't enjoy doing what you enjoy without being hasseled.
Let me give you the best example I saw: I witnessed a guy - about my age and status (whatever that means) ride by on a pink bike.
Not just a pink bike, but a pink girls' bike.
No guys on the street were stopping to elbow one another, no dudes were yelling "fag" at him.
How far would a man get in Newfoundland (anywhere in Canada, anywhere in North America) before that would happen to him?
I can tell you how far: as far as it would take to ride past two ignorant men, which would be about a block or so.
Witnessing this didn't make me envy them (well, I guess it did), but it made me embarrassed to be where I'm from, and I hated that.
It's not about riding pink bikes, it's about getting to the point.
It's the bike he had access to for whatever reason, it's the bike he needed to get to where he was going to that day, and it's just a fuckin' bike. Who gives a shit? The entirity of Holland understands this point, whereas I wouldn't be able to explain this to a gaggle of North American 'bros' if I had an hour and charts to aid me.
It's sad.
Running as they did was the exact same concept: They're late, they have to be someplace, they're going to run because it improves their chances, who cares if it looks ridiculous (which, to be fair, it does. I laughed every time I saw it).
If you don't have to spend your time worrying about what society is going to think or say about you, it frees your mind to focus on what's important.
This is without even getting into the marijuana and prostitution laws. Don't even get me started.
It's the same deal, though.
We could never have the laws that they have because idiots would fuck it up within a year and the laws would have to be immediately changed.
Not so over there.
The weed cafés ('coffee shops') are set up 'just so'. You don't have to be a pothead like me to see that, either.
You could walk into any of them despite the time of the day and smoke a joint as large as you please, and then carry on.
Yet, not once did I pass pockets of teens, giggling and fucking around.
I never passed someone staring blankly at a Burger King menu for minutes on end.
It's just how they do things. There's no need to be immature about it. There's no need to be giddy because it's just...normal; accepted.
Same deal for the sex workers.
It could never work in North America (I appreciate prostitution is legal in Nevada and wherever, but it will never be a part of American culture as it is of The Netherlands. Never).
It could never work where we're from because the women would never be respected. As they wouldn't be respected by customers, or their society (Bible-bashing assholes would have to ruin it for everyone, I'm sure), they could never respect themselves.
Not so in Holland.
If I visit The Cotton Club it's usually a good laugh and the women are beautiful and whatever, but the fact is I have to be a bit drunk before I get there because if I don't...I kinda feel bad for the strippers.
Not all of them, but a lot of them.
This is because some of them are ashamed of themselves, I think. Or the guys make them feel that way. I don't know what it is because I have never been a stripper myself and I don't want to put words in their mouths, but you can see it in their eyes. Some of them wish they were elsewhere, and we do that to them.
I thought that upon entering the famed Red Light District, I would experience the same sensation, but I realized within minutes that this wouldn't be the case.
When you look at these beautiful creatures in their glass windows, they look right back, right in your fuckin' eye.
They have nothing to be ashamed of.
Why would they? Their city supports who they are and what they do, there's a statue commemorating their trade, and placards that explain their history. They are protected, they are appropriately compensated, and they are appreciated (they're definitely appreciated).
When their children go to school, no one is teased about what their mom does for a living (or so I've read).
That would never happen where I live.
And so, the streets fill at night as the curtains are drawn, and you can walk hand-in-hand and admire these lovely women, you can smile at them and nod, and they will entice you in the brief moment that they have (and they're good at it).
I was blown away by how real they were, as stupid as that sounds.
You only see them for a moment as you pass, but in that moment you can see just how professional they are. They each have a persona, a style and a clientele that they meet, and it's plain to see that this is something that each individual woman develops on her own over time. It all comes through in the amount of time it takes to walk past them. It's an incredible thing.
And boy oh boy, are they distracting.
Andie and I entered a horseshoe-shaped room (which was weird, most were outside, but these five or six girls were not), and as she got a few paces ahead of me, I glanced at a girl at the end of the row and did a double-take because she was so sexy and she said, "Come inside," and I actually looked around the corner to see how far away Andie was.
Like I could duck in for a minute if there was enough distance between us - she was that mesmerizing.
The way she said it wasn't all gross and sexual, like, "Cum inside and fuck me, blah blah blah." It was pleading and simple, kinda like, "You. You're late for your appointment," and my response was to look at my watch and say, "Jesus, I am late for my appoitnment, right you are."
And so, they weren't hookers, they were sex workers. Not just because that's what you're encouraged to call them, but also because it's what their society has allowed them to be.
It's a beautiful place.
And we got really high there and we sort of almost got kicked out of a very old, very beautiful museum.
We didn't almost get kicked out, really, but the security guys were definitely keeping an eye on us.
However, that's for another day.
For now, I have to logoff before I have to pay another Euro (we're on a budget, here). Then, I'll go upstairs to see if there are any geckos on the walls tonight.
This post wasn't meant to be such a diatribe, but here we are.
I'll conclude by saying this:
Holland is a place where I am constantly in the way.