Working Out - Amsterdam Style

After spending a week of doing nothing but sitting by the pool and getting painted in chocolate in Mexico, I decided it was time to get back on the workout train – Amsterdam style. I arrived a few minutes early to the Body Combat class at the gym (appropriately named Fitness First) that I have joined. The class was described as a combination of Taebo and martial arts, I thought it would be a good way to relieve some stress and possibly get a workout. My hopes weren’t too high (based on previous classes taken in other countries) and a class of only 45 minutes probably isn’t all that much of a workout – Wrong!

As my fellow class members began to gather around the door, I noticed one woman who was wrapping her hands with boxing clothes; she was not one to reckon with… piercings galore (including a diamond like stud in her chin), authentic Mohamed Ali boxing pants (red satin with stars down the legs), sports bra/tank top combo which revealed tattoos all over her back. I prayed to the high heaven this was not my instructor! The Gods were smiling and must have had a bit of “let’s see how she handles this one” attitude because our instructor (who was a jacked black woman) appeared and ushered us into the studio. She started by asking the group a question (in Dutch). I assumed she was asking if anyone was new. I and one other woman raised our hands. The instructor looked at me and said something (in Dutch) at lightening speed. The blank look on my face must have signaled her to stop speaking and ask “do you speak English?” I mean at this point I wasn’t sure I wanted to say yes… part of me wanted to reply, “No hablo engles; hablo espanol.” Back to reality – I replied, “Yes.” She responded with “Ok, let’s get started.” The rest of the class was in Dutch.

I spent the next 45 minutes jabbing, hooking, crossing, side kicking, and round house kicking at least 2 counts behind everyone else. Every time the music stopped, I thought “thank God, we were done” only to hear the instructor say something to the affect of “come on!” I did learn a few moves and feel quite able to defend myself should the need arise.

At the end of the class, I approached the instructor to thank her. She suggested I stay for the next class of Body Pump. Thinking this would be a nice way to round out the workout I complied. I gathered my weights, erring on the lighter side to be safe. However it wasn’t until about halfway through that I realized the weight was listed in kilograms not pounds therefore I had actually doubled the weight I was lifting! This class begin in a similar manner however now that the instructor new I had no clue what she was saying, she was more inclined to demonstrate the moves. Figuring this class was also only 45 minutes, I thought I was going to die when at quarter till 1pm she was just starting the arm workout. Since the class continued I quickly learned this one was longer than the last one, what I didn’t know was how much longer. Again, I started praying this was not one of those 75 min classes because at this point, my body couldn’t take much more. This woman is crazy – she has us doing things I’m quite sure a human body is not supposed to do – I mean who does the abs workout while holding a weight plate!!

Cash Only

Shopping, eating and drinking around Amsterdam are not too difficult however most places prefer you use cash or this neat thing called a chipcard which requires you to have a Dutch bank account. Since the banks are only open Mon-Fri 10am – 4pm opening an account here doesn’t really coincide with the job I was brought over to do.

Alas, paying in cash was not a problem for me during my first week here. I successfully withdrew euros from a variety of ATM’s around the city and was using my debit card as a credit card where I could (the international withdrawal fees can be hefty). But during my second week, the cash started to run low and I kept forgetting to go to the ATM. On Friday evening, I left work a bit frazzled and decided a nice dinner was in order.

I found this adorable spot to eat, place my order of brueshetta, crisp wine, and baked salmon. While enjoying my brueshetta I noticed the menu said "CASH ONLY". Panicked I explained to the waitress that I needed to go and get cash. Much to my dismay my ATM card wouldn't work despite trying 5 different ATMs. Distraught and not really knowing what to do, I headed back to the restaurant. I must have looked just awful because as I was explaining my situation the waitress calmly smiled and said, “Just give me what you can.” What I had amounted to 5 euros and $5 which did not even put a dent in my 30 euro bill, however she insisted I sit and eat the rest of my meal. I explained that I would go to an ATM near my apartment that I knew worked with my card and promptly pay her tomorrow. She basically said don’t worry about it so I sat down and ate my meal filled with guilt.

The next morning, determined to pay off my debt, I marched to the corner ATM where just a week earlier I had successfully withdrew a decent about of cash. Much to my dismay, my card was rejected yet again! At this point I phone my bank figuring something had to be wrong. Yep, something was wrong all right; my bank had frozen my account!! My bank thought that someone had stolen my card and was making purchases in Amsterdam. Now I’m all for the fraud protection but look at my records… for the past 12 months I have made purchases (all quite similar I might add – spas, clothes, home accessories, shoes, you know the girl basics) in Tokyo, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Bali, San Francisco, Aruba, NYC, St. Louis, Chicago, Naples, West Palm Beach and Atlanta. It doesn’t take a genius to realize I travel a lot! I politely explained to the bank representative that I was indeed the one making purchases in Amsterdam so could she please release the freeze on my account. She eloquently replied with, “No, I can’t but someone from fraud protection will be able to if you can verify the charges.” Then she put my on hold for another 15 minutes. Bear in mind I’m on my cell phone where the average per minute charge is $.29 – this call was costly me just under $10 at this point. A solid 40 minutes later my account was unfrozen, euros were in my hand, and my bank knew of my travel plans for the next 4 months.

Queen's Day

From the moment I arrived in Amsterdam, people were talking about how great Queen’s Day is. “A must” natives proclaimed. Horrified that I might miss “the best day in Amsterdam” due to vacation, I regularly had to assure people that I was leaving the day AFTER Queen’s Day.

They said it was a city wide festival which was fun… I had no idea what I was going to experience when I woke up on Queen’s Day.

It is a combination of Mardi Gras, St. Patrick’s Day, City wide yard sale, and American Idol. The people of Holland don the country color of orange and put those Tennessee fans to shame.

The day begins at a decent hour where I spent most of the morning perusing the streets of Jordan part in awe and part in shock at some of the things I was seeing. This is the only day where you are able to sell anything and no license is required; believe me these people sell anything! Nicely displayed in front of their canal homes one can find a wealth of vintage treasures or as some call it, junk in hopes to make a profit or at least pay for the drinks during the evening. The streets turn into markets, the canals turn into an avenue for booze cruises, and the corners turn into opportunities for the next big star. I witnessed break dancing, clogging, tap dancing, and singing for all age ranges.

The day turned into the afternoon which brought on more of the drinking. Having not really “experienced Amsterdam” up to this point – I was in for a shock! Ingmar as my tour guide and his friend Paul as his accomplice we managed to make friends with a whole block of people while enjoying the live music and the drinks kept flowing. The afternoon turned into night which brought on the dj and in typical Julie fashion a few falls on the dance floor; not mention a few stellar moves as well. The rest of the evening is blur however I do remember seriously enjoying some street food and somehow managing to unlock my front door and stumble to bed!

Despite my level of intoxication, one thing is for sure I will be marking my calendar for Queen’s Day 2008 (April 20th) yes it is a Tuesday however I have been assured that no matter the day of the week every year is the same. And if 2008 is anything like 2007, a good time will be had by all.

It’s raining men… hallelujah it’s raining men!

While the rest of Holland may be concerned about the fact that it has not rained in over three weeks, I am happy as a calm... On my way to work the other day I passed a man who’s legs where as long as me! And the man he was walking with was only a few inches shorter. Even if I put heels on (which we all know doesn’t happen very often due to my lack of ability to walk in them) I would still be far shorter than the majority of the Dutch men. For the most part the men have a great sense of style here. It’s a laid back cool yet still polished look, but there some are exceptions. You have your typical stoners who haven’t washed their hair in a few years and the older generation who hasn’t yet realized that stone washed jeans are not in style. Those aside there is enough eye candy to last for quite a while J The other day I felt like I had entered an award show because literally in ONE day I saw the following look-a-likes:
- Josh Duhamel
- Matt Damon
- Matthew Fox
- Michael Vartan
Seriously I was about ready to start asking for autographs. I saw the Josh Duhamel character the next day and was tempted to say hello but chickened out.

And oh yeah, the women are beautiful here, too. I work with a woman who looks like Giselle – yeah you could say I’m intimidated. But it has yet to motivate me to actually look decent when I go to work … brains still out weight beauty, right??