Utopia or Heaven- Work in Progress*

After landing in Amsterdam from a 15 hour flight from Dallas, TX, we were exhausted. It was May 14th, 2002. He and I had never traveled that far from home before. He didn't have a passport before he met me. He did more traveling across the country than he had ever done in his 41 years; this was probably because he was an unfocused pothead and had low self-esteem. I was a very focused codependent looking to find a way to rescue this relationship by seeing if moving to Europe was a viable option for an unredeemed pothead-coke head. I would be his would be Christ.

We were given a box of chocolates to give to Cyril's twin cousins who lived in the city proper. Cyril had arranged for us to stay with his cousins for a day or two upon arrival. We lugged our large duffle bags from the airport onto the Tram. Cyril told us to purchase Strippenkaart cards to pay for our Tram fare. Schiphol airport would have them.

As we awaited the trolley, we knew we were terribly exhausted. Jet lag was fast setting in. It was both of our first times experiencing jet lag. We hopped the trolley and got off in a residential area. It wasn't until days later that I noticed all the dog poop.

The homes where all three story. We found the home of our host and handed over the box of chocolate. Cyril said it would be thought rude if we did not offer gifts. We are welcomed into the home and directed to a set of stairs. We are to go to the 2nd floor. We turned our eyes upward as far as our necks could go. That is how steep these steps were.

After about 5 minutes of huffing and puffing up this narrow steep stairway, we make it to an open area where our host shows us our room. I do not not remember much after this. We must have slept 20 hours before we finally were alert enough to issue a proper greeting.

Upon waking our guest introduces us to her twin sister. We are invited to a party they are hosting. It was a gathering to watch the political happenings going on in the country. Apparently there had been an assassination of a political candidate just before our arrival. One twin mentioned that there had never been anything like this ever to happen in The Netherlands, unlike the United States.

Wikipedia: Wilhelmus Simon Petrus Fortuijn, known as Pim Fortuyn (Dutch: [ˈpɪm fɔrˈtœyn] (listen); 19 February 1948 – 6 May 2002), was a Dutch politician, academic, author and businessman who formed his own party, Pim Fortuyn List (Lijst Pim Fortuyn or LPF) in 2002.^[1]

Fortuyn was assassinated during the 2002 Dutch national election campaign^[9][10][11] by Volkert van der Graaf, a left-wing environmentalist and animal rights activist.^[12] In court at his trial, van der Graaf said he murdered Fortuyn to stop him from exploiting Muslims as "scapegoats" and targeting "the weak members of society" in seeking political power.^[13][14][15] The LPF went on to poll in second place during the election but went into decline soon after.

We all gather around the television and watched the unfolding. It was election season and everyone was out of sorts. It was election day, Wednesday, May 15th. There were all sorts of opinions about immigration, muslims, and Africans.

Almost two years before our trip the World Trade Center towers were attacked. The world took on a different tone. At least the white world. I watched the television without much connective tissue to the plight. I was extremely green when it came to world affairs. My only mission at this time was to flee the United States. Who knew The Netherlands, the seat of social democracy, was in the beginning stages of a potential political revolution.

The next morning Tim and I planned to leave to get our footing in the city. Before we left we had a lovely breakfast with our host. Her toddler played on the open 3rd floor terrace running to and from the 30 foot drop to the living space. The bar between the railing were wide. A child could easily fall between them. I was scared for the child's life. 

His mother saw my fretting. She explained that in Holland, mothers are not as obsessed with their children's perceived safety as American mothers. She explained that the child was perfectly safe. She pointed to statistics regarding child rearing in Europe as compared to the US. Her stats were valid and spot on as far as I was concerned. The boy played to his heart's content. Her daughter who was many four ventured to and fro as she pleased. I admired the Dutch. But not knowing history as well as I do now, parts of me can't help but hold a jaundice upon them.