Number of days in Amsterdam – 365
Number of days without a bike theft – 361
Days since it last rained – 0
I have some lyrics from Rent in my head as I write this:
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, a year in the life?How about love?
Wow. We did it.
I’ve thought long and hard about what to say on this date.
And I’m still thinking.
One year ago today, we landed in Amsterdam, bright eyed, excited and terrified. We had agreed to take on a crazy adventure – move to city we’d never been to thousands of miles from our friends and family. We didn’t speak the language, we had an apartment that we’d never seen in real life, and we had a baby on the way.
And for a while, we hated it.
We were lost. We had no friends. We didn’t know where anything was, and the grocery store was filled with packages we couldn’t recognize. We were living on the proceeds from selling our cars, and there was no way out.
We couldn’t go home again. We had no jobs, no cars, nowhere to live, nothing more than a pair of bikes and a half dozen suitcases.
And each other.
I’d like to think we embraced the challenge, but the truth is, we didn’t really.
Not at first.
We sort of wallowed in fear. Each step outside the flat was cautious, tentative, like a baby animal stepping out into the sun for the first time after spending the first part of its life snuggled somewhere dark, warm and safe.
We were Detroiters. We could navigate a city that has an international reputation for being one of the worst places you could ever go. We loved Detroit, it was home. We felt like we had dumped it all for a stupid adventure.
I felt like I’d been impulsive, cocky and immature. Like I had recklessly made a decision that I was not only regretting, but one that had the ability to ruin our lives.
It was game over, man, and the game had ended in Amsterdam.
My bike was stolen. That was like rubbing salt in an open wound, like saying “you feel stranded now? How much more stranded will you feel after I jack your wheels? Take that, capitalist American running pig dog!” (I’m not sure when the guy who stole my bike became a caricature of an ’80s-era communist, instead of a some junked out hoodrat, maybe just now, but it fits.)
While “Seasons of Love” is in my head now, there was another song in my head, a song I first heard a while back when Nicole and I had spent a year unemployed. “This Year” by Mountain Goats, which features the line “I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.”
But then, something changed.
It didn’t happen overnight, but we learned to love this town with all its quirkiness.
We found restaurants we liked, and worked our way around the supermarkets.
We learned to accept that it always rains here, and that’s that.
And we had a baby.
And that wasn’t easy.
She had a very rough start. She wasn’t breathing when she was born, and spent a week in the hospital.
But she got better, and is quickly growing from a baby to a beautiful little girl.
And a year went by.
I do love it here now, and I’m very glad we did this. I don’t like to dwell on our early days here, but I know that they’re important to remember. Over the course of our years, Nicole and I have faced many challenges, and we got through all of them. We got through this move, too, and the difficult first days of the Kitten’s life.
We’re rock stars and we can get through anything.
To commemorate the year, I made a special dinner. Steak and frites, grilled up at home. I bought a bouquet of orange daisies, in honor of our anniversary and our new home and the orange fever that is tearing it up as it prepares for the Eurocup.
And life went on.
I held my little daughter across my lap, and she looked up at me, pulled her binkie out of her mouth, and shoved it in mine.
She can be so thoughtful.
So what happens next?
Nothing.
Everything.
Life goes on.
The baby grows up.
We renewed our visas, so we’re here for a bit longer.
Six months? Six years? Sixty years?
Who knows?
What happens to this blog?
Do I let it drop as the year’s experiment draws to a close?
Do I change the rules and keep it going?
Does anyone care what I have to say about the ‘Dam, or the Dutch?
It’s time to examine life once more, at the close of our first year. Do you like to read about my life as I continue to figure out European life, learn about parenting a little girl, and discover that there are Dutch companies that cater to cannibals?
What do you think? Do we continue, or is the rodeo over? Is it time for this cowboy to ride his bike over the canals and into the sunset?
Ryan, congratulations. Amsterdam is better for having you and the family in it. You already know that our vote would be for you to keep writing! So do it!
Did you see that Flint recently robbed the D of the number one spot on the list of the world’s most dangerous cities? Flint’s a nasty little prick, but not completely without redeeming qualities, and Detroit’s a miracle that deserves to re-happen. That’s my take, anyway. I resent lists, especially lists that focus on the worst rather than the best.
I enjoy your updates. Selfishly, I hope they keep coming. Unselfishly, I believe that a writer should write when the muse appears and a writer should stop only when “the pen gets tired.” I suspect you’ll drop any feelings of obligation and just do what feels right to you, and that’s the way it will be.
Yes please continue, I really enjoy reading you …
If you are having a vote, count 1 for you to continue. Having just read the last year of your postings, I am struck by your talent in discovering and describing the ‘quirks’ associated with becoming an expat in Amsterdam with a small child. While we are a couple years ahead learning about Amsterdam, I feel like I have learned something from your posts that I can take with me on my journey of fatherhood here. I have no doubt that your material provides or will provide a great reference for people on a similar trajectory and I wholeheartedly encourage you to keep it up (if you have the time and inclination).
BT
Please keep writing! It is a fun way for your friends back home to see how you are doing. We also get to see Amsterdam through your eyes which makes visiting so much better.
You know my vote – love your writing, love the posts, love hearing how you guys are doing! Perhaps it wouldn’t have to be as frequent to take some burden off of you. The catch up posts are always enjoyable. Do what you gotta do and know we are very in awe and supportive of whatever it is…
Can I selfishly ask you to please continue?
I quite enjoy reading your blog, so definitely a +1 from me to continue!
I found your blog just under a year ago, when I was applying to schools and contemplating life abroad. I’m not married, I don’t have children, and I’m not into punk, but your blog fit the bill perfectly. Whether you continue or stop here, I wanted to thank you for all you’ve written. Your posts made me laugh, cry, and think about things I hadn’t considered. And I’m so very thankful to find out it will be hard in the beginning, but that it will get better. I leave for Copenhagen in 10 weeks and I can’t wait.
As a fellow Dutch expat and new parent (does 10 months count as new?), I love relating to your blog, thinking, “Oh! I know what he means!” or “Don’t get me started about THAT…” or “Liam does the same thing!” I’d love for you to continue writing about life and love in the ‘Dam, but you gotta write for yourself, not for others…but if you need a reason to write for yourself, here’s an idea: I am turning my blog about our expat life into a keepsake book for ourselves when this is all over; memories, pictures, anecdotes, life with the babe, etc. all for us to have years from now to remember this time. Just a thought!
Good luck and hope to continue reading you…
Ryan—Of course, we want you to continue. Your wonderful descriptions of life in the ‘Dam make us feel closer to you, Nicole and our ‘Pumpkin”, better known here as ‘The Kitten’. Sometimes we laugh and say Oooh and Ahhh, when we see the pictures that accompany the writings, and sometimes we have tears (mostly me,’cause I’m the sensitive one), reading about sad and scary times you guys sometimes have. BUT….please keep writing. Maybe once a week or everyother week, as we know how busy you are, but it helps us to stay intouch.
You know what my answer will be; I’d love it if you kept on writing, of course!
I am married many years – my children grown – and would love to toss in all of my worldly possessions and do exactly what you have done.
It was Auntie Mame who said, “Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!’
I would like to continue reading of your adventures – My vote is “yes – please continue if you can…”
another “continue until yr pen gets tired” vote. we really miss you guys, and reading your blog is a way to feel connected (and inspiration to save money for a trip overseas!).
Im so in love with Amsterdam and reading your posts about it mixed with your family life! My fiancé and I are 23 and we are working towards doing just what you and your wife did. Please keep writing!