Just over 4-hours later, we arrive at Amsterdam Train station apathetic that this was our final train ride for our passage around Europe. We catch a tram to Velariustraat where Ram's apartment to find him waiting for us.
I had met Ram at vipassana back in Italy. The brief exchange on the tenth day of the course led to his invitation of Amber and I staying with him if we were planning to be in the neighborhood. We did, and I accepted! He revealed to me that he was an artist then, but I was only to find out how passionate and accomplished upon our arrival into Amsterdam.
www.ramkatzir.com
Breakfast with Ram
Ram is very sociable. That evening we had an unexpected visitor - an old and dear friend of Ram's. Corolla is fashion designer/illustrator from Argentina and also very sociable. They haven't seen each other in almost three years and it is clear that their friendship is endearing. Late into the evening, Amber and I are invited to share a joint with them. It is Jamaican, I'm told the mildest kind I'd find in Amsterdam. I strike one of the things off my 'Amsterdam "to do" list.' Interestingly, I notice my linked negative connotations of smoking weed with "failure." The last time I was stoned, my life was in a bad way, so here I found myself in strange 'new territory' smoking weed in a very different context in the company of a "successful" and very inspiring human being.
Excited kids rolling a joint
I wake up feeling heavy and groggy the next morning. Still, without any disinclination, the three of us sit together in meditation. Ram was delighted to find that Amber and I have been meditating regularly since our last course and was eager about sitting with us over the next few days. We were too!
Ram has a couple of bicycles which he let us use and we ride off for the first time into town. After 20 minutes of haphazardly traversing the busy but charming conglomerating city streets of Amsterdam, we cycle past a couple in distress. 'B' is on her side lying on the pavement with her head on her backpack shivering uncontrollably, while her partner, 'J', is standing by her side, seemingly calm but hinting discombobulation. Amber is the first to stop to see if they need help. J tells her that they have had some
space-cake and B is having a strong reaction. I notice that J is also pretty 'out of it' and merely keeping composure, and doing a pretty good job of it! B, however, is in a much poorer state and laments about how she can't feel her legs and that she needs to go to a hospital. While Amber is locking up our bicycles a few meters down the road, I curiously find myself on my knees, on a random street in Amsterdam, vocally and physically consoling a stranger who is in an acute state of distress. I run across the road to a corner shop and ask to call 112 (Ambulance). She helpfully complies but advises that the paramedics will charge 200+ euros for their service. I run this by J which he readily consents to. His body language tells me otherwise. Amber suggests a cab to the hospital, and the taxi driver down the road demands 250 euro compensation if she throws up in his Mercedes. He is hesitant about taking her in his car and keeps expounding how he will be 'responsible' once she gets into the car. He was obviously very concerned about something of what I am still uncertain. In the meantime, passerby's are incessantly stopping to see what is going on and voicing their concerns and opinions, "Give her lots of sugar," or "Take her to the hospital!" or "She needs to vomit!" Having a little experience with the drug itself (okay okay, more than just a little..), I felt that all she required was reassurance and moved to a safe and less conspicuous space, so we drag her to her feet and go into the back toilet of the infamous 'Ice Bar' across the road where we spent the next hour or so, while Amber and I, still feeling like she wasn't 'out of the woods', had caffe lattes. The staff were cool and even handed us glass of sugar water for her. Two lattes and two vomits later, B resolutely walks out of the toilet and sits down awkwardly next to us, clearly concerned about the whereabouts of their backpack. J, not far behind her, attentively takes a seat, thanks us, and hands us 50 euros for helping. Refusing at first, I recognize the genuineness and uncompromisingness in his eyes and readily accept our financial reward. After exchanging emails and well-wishes, Amber and I get on our way, feeling thoroughly satiated by our good deed. (*Thanks J and B! The 50 euros has gone towards a lovely Canal ride and a hearty Tibetan dinner of sizzling duck and sweet and sour fish. Mmmmm!)
Canal ride
We get back to our bikes and find my Macpac jacket, which Amber had stored in one of the bicycle pockets, stolen! Immediately, I observe prickly waves of emotion gushing throughout my body, at a loss at how to react, Amber clearly upset with herself. In the antsy moments that follow, I observe a myriad of thoughts and feelings run riot, incapable of coming to a serene conclusion. Recognizing that my deepest desire and practice is to be non-attached to 'things,' I remind myself that this is not worth getting upset about, and making Amber wrong for losing my expensive jacket only devalues my experience of her and myself in the here and now. 10 minutes later, after contemplating very uncomfortable state(s) of mind, I imagine seeing the person who took my jacket on the street, wearing it. We meet, and having the option of take the jacket back, I choose to gladly give it to him. "You have it." - followed by a comradely smile and feelings of goodwill. This briefly described sequence of mental events may seem frivolous, but my resultant subsequent feelings were invaluably insignificant and peaceful.
"Coffee shop"
Today is our last day in Amsterdam, and so much still has happened which I long to share on this blog but yet not practical to convey. We have this morning been to the Ann Frank museum, and decided not to see any more museums. As Amber recently declared, "We are completely museum-ed out!"
Very cool cafe lounge area where we hung out for hours.
Maybe later I'll write part deux about our workout, Shutter Island, Ram's fabulous bookshelf and orange couch, the red-light district, Casa Rosso, the happenstance meeting with Tina and Brenden from New Zealand, and the angry pedestrian who bellowed "FUUCK YOUU" when I cycled too close to him on the sidewalk. What a captivating city to (almost) end our tour around Europe!
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