Two slips of paper flutter to the floor of the tram, jam packed with Amsterdamers heading home after work. Without delay, at least two riders have pointed it out, politely tapping on my wife’s elbow, informing her in Dutch.
Welcome to Amsterdam. It would happen twice more, as we juggled cameras and scarves, tickets and tram passes, the kindness of strangers saved us from losing something we’d dropped. Often, I watched multiple passengers quickly offer help—to the old, to mothers with bulky strollers—in a way that seemed natural and routine. Only once did I see slight annoyance, when a crew of mothers and strollers had blocked access to standing room further up the tram.
Visiting the city of Amsterdam fills the senses with delightful sights and sounds and, best of all, introduces one to a uniquely public-oriented citizenry, people who do many things that make city living more tolerable for all.
Despite being built on sand, the city has an underground metro line, along with extensive tram lines that make getting around easy. Visitors may buy an hourly pass, available in one day increments (24, 36 hours and so on), to match the duration of a stay. At seven Euros per 24 hour period, the radio frequency pass is a bargain.
And, that flexibility in the passes (unlike, say, Paris, where you need to commit to a weekly pass at minimum) typifies the attitude of Amsterdamers—practical minded and tolerant yet still friendly towards the hordes of tourists in their midst. Which brings me to something rare and wonderful about Amsterdamers: their bicycles.
I heard the ring of bicycle bells often, many times because I had again blundered on to a bicycle pathway, which is very often wider than the sidewalk. In Amsterdam, the bicycle has the right of way. It fits with the prevailing attitude: clearly, bikes are the fastest, most ecological and healthiest way to get around, so they take priority.
The bikes are everywhere. Every street has bunches of leaning bikes, mostly black, single speed and basic. Our Amsterdam tour guide told us most local people own two bikes: one for everyday use left locked out front of the apartment and the other for the weekend, when riding into the countryside is easy, especially since bikes are allowed on the metro (with handy hooks for stability and tire guideways that make stair bumps obsolete).
The biking scene seems fantastical to someone from Vancouver (and not only because there are no hills to climb in Amsterdam!). No one wears a helmet, adults nor children. Yet everyone rides— white haired grandmothers, guys in suits, women in mini skirts and heels—and parents carry children on special bikes with wheelbarrow-like carriers on front. Often, I saw two children strapped in and enjoying the ride and wondered to myself if we were in Vancouver whether the mom would be arrested for endangering her children!
The highlights of my experience of these civic-minded citizens of Amsterdam came when I heard about the Second World War on my tour and on a subsequent visit to the Anne Frank House.
Joe, our capable guide, had majored in history and ended his tour in front of a house where a Jewish man had been sheltered, successfully, for four years. Thousands of Jews were saved by fellow citizens, who thought of them as Amsterdamers first. Joe told us of the uprising, the only one in any European city already occupied by the advancing Germans, that took place over two days in June 1941. Amsterdamers wanted to let it be known that they supported the Jews and objected to their treatment in the city.
The results were predictable: the Germans separated women from the men and then executed the women, publically. Amsterdam paid a heavy price for its resistence.
After I heard this story, I knew I had to visit Anne Frank House. There, we wandered through the rooms (emptied of goods to respect her father’s wishes) and watched various video installations that explained the history that led to Anne and her family hiding there for over two years.
It was when I heard Miep Gies that I fully understood Amsterdam and her people. She related the tale of her employer coming to ask her if she could help the Franks (and others) by obtaining food for them using counterfeit ration cards (an act that could have lead to her execution).
Her answer, given without hesitation? “Of course I will.”
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