Let’s Go Dutch

I got to Amsterdam early. I had a few days to myself and had a room at a youth Hostel. I knew that when the rest of the “girls” arrived, we would venture together. In the meantime, the hostel was full of Americans, and I joined them in touring the “less” than cultural sights of the city. I had never heard Dutch spoken before. Later, I would describe it as an offshoot of Klingon, a nod to the series in the 70s Star Trek.

I was starting to see a trend. It wasn’t that I was so young. It was that I looked even younger. Almost every male I met, both American and foreign, took a protective attitude toward me. (Almost) It served my purposes. It was funny that they seemed to feel an obligation to protect me. While that lasted, I accepted it. My experience at the Eiffel Tower added to their feeling of obligation. I was always on the lookout for those who wanted to “groom” me. I had some interesting discussions on that on one train where an older man sat next to me and tried to convince me to get off the train with him in Brussels! Obviously I didn’t go!

When the rest of the classmates arrived, we discovered that the Heineken Brewery had daily tours. After going through the process of brewing beer, a lunch consisting of sandwiches and beer or soda was included in the fee. While it was minimal, we had a lunch outlet every day. The Brewery caught on to our daily appearance and just smiled and let us go straight to the food. Of course, we saw most of what Amsterdam had to offer. The Hostel was around the corner from the Anne Frank house, or more precisely, the Anne Frank hideaway from the Nazis. I heard the church bells she heard and could feel the fear she felt. What a horrible part of history.

We visited the famous art museums and saw and toured the city of Delft. We stayed there for a week or so, and then we were off on our own till Stockholm.

This was where I would, for the most part, be alone. Next was Copenhagen, and I adored Denmark. When I arrived at the hotel, I was given a tiny room. There was a breakfast daily, but most of the food was foreign to me. I would eat what I could recognize, basically bread and cheese. I took a bus tour of the city to try and get my bearings. I went back to walk through Tivoli Gardens. It’s a most delightful park. I stopped at a puppet show. It was all outdoors and for children. Danish didn’t sound as guttural to me, but I couldn’t understand anything.

I saw a group of three guys and two women. They stopped by the puppet show. These people were speaking Spanish. Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked them anything, but I was happy to be able to understand someone. I asked them where they were from, and they told me they were from Columbia. They asked me where I was from, and I answered, “New York.” They laughed and then told me in perfect English, “Well, that explains your accent!” I think I was insulted, but I acquiesced, and the rest of our conversations were in English. They were five cousins. Their two fathers (brothers), were in Denmark on business, and the “kids,” aged 16-24, were invited to tag along on this particular trip. It was understood that the men (boys) were responsible for the girls, and they were horrified that I was alone. I told them I wasn’t really alone, just for a day, and that tomorrow, some of the students from my college would be arriving. I thought they would be satisfied knowing I would have “people” around me. In reality, I was just going to check in with them. I didn’t think we would be hanging out together.

The older guy noticed something. I was wearing a chain and charm that I never took off. I didn’t even think about it. It was just a part of me. It was a tiny Jewish star with a little diamond chip in the center. He pointed to the star and asked me if I was Jewish.

Growing up in New York, I never ever had any kind of incident with Antisemitism. The star I wore was just like someone wearing a little cross or a birthstone. My family was quite secular.

When I was 13 though, I went to Florida with my science teacher and about 20 other students on the train. This teacher took a group over the spring break every year. We made a stop in South Carolina. I don’t remember why we stopped or what we saw. I only remember the social that they had prepared with a high school. We were a mixed group of boys and girls. I knew everyone, and of course, there were many Jewish students. We entered the gym. They had a DJ playing records, and it looked like fun. Very safe, and chaperones everywhere. We spoke to some of the local students and this one guy, cute and redheaded was trying to monopolize my conversation. He spotted the star and asked me if he could ask me a personal question. I thought, “why not?” He asked me if he could see my horns?

“Horns?” I asked, “what are you talking about?” He looked at me seriously and reconsidered. He smiled and said, “Oh I get it, they only come out in the middle of the night.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he made me uncomfortable. I asked the teacher what he was talking about? She turned white, and explained to me that a lot of people , uneducated people, believed that Jews were devils and therefore had horns. It all stemmed from an old painting of Moses, where rays of light shone down from the heavens upon his head. The word, perhaps in Hebrew for horns and rays were similar and thus the idea was born. She told me to just ignore it. Of course I couldn’t. It went into the recesses of my mind and only surfaced when I felt faced with an anti Jewish comment.

Now in Copenhagen, I ran into a Columbian family who were Jewish! The eldest was horrified that I was alone. They wouldn’t have it. The oldest guy told me it wasn’t proper, and he was horrified that my parents let me come on this trip. I was “married” to the clan for the rest of the day.. I wasn’t happy. It bothered me that this man thought I needed his protection. They paid for all my entry fees into museums and attractions, and they treated me to all the meals. I did try to pay my own way, but as one of the female cousins put it, “Money means nothing to these guys. I was escorted everywhere and returned to my hotel. He told me that he would pick me up after breakfast the next morning. I refused his offer. The machismo was suffocating. I thanked them and told them how wonderful is was to meet them. The guy started to argue with me and I reminded him I was not his responsibility. The rest of the clan convinced him to drop his argument.

My school mates did indeed arrive the next day. We went to eat together but that was it. Next, I would be off totally on my own to Oslo.

I had booked my hotel, as I had done previously in other countries, and I anticipated no problem.

When I arrived in Oslo, it was rainy and darkish. I anticipated the long summer days of the area, but the weather was miserable and the rain and fog made it dark and dreary. The train pulled in, and a taxi drove me the short distance to the hotel. When I got there, I went to the registration desk to find out that my reservation had never been confirmed and that they had no room for me. I looked at them in disbelief and asked, “What am I supposed to do?”

The woman at the desk didn’t have an answer. I was not going to go out in the rain dragging my suitcase. I was hungry, and I was not in a good mood. She told me to wait a minute and disappeared behind a door. When she returned, she told me I could have a room on the top floor where the maids slept! It was fine, a private room with a bathroom. It was only for that night. The hotel was completely booked. She suggested that in the morning, I go back to the railroad station and locate a kiosk that rented rooms throughout the city. She was sorry but told me not to come back to the hotel. The woman who showed me my room procured some fruit for me to tide me over until the morning. I got there and saw the kiosk and the line in front of it. I joined the line, not knowing what to expect. Within a few minutes, many more people were in the line behind me.

It was so slow! I dropped something. I don’t remember what it was, but the girl behind me picked it up and asked if it was mine, Of course it was, and then I realized she asked in English. I learned she was a Japanese-American from California and was going to Helsinki, Finland. She was about 18 years old. We suddenly heard an announcement that all single rooms were taken. She and I looked at each other and declared we were a double. We got our room. It wasn’t too far, and we walked it. It was more than ample. While I thought we might hang out or do some things together, she informed me she preferred to go places and do things herself. OK, I had no choice. We did go to see the same things for a while, but then she disappeared to “do her thing” and I was alone. All was well till 7 PM I was hungry. I didn’t remember passing any restaurants. The little place we were staying did not have food.

I left the little hotel and just headed a few blocks into town. I found a restaurant, but I couldn’t read the menu, and I was afraid to go in. I was trying to psyche myself to just walk in, but I couldn’t. I walked further down the street window shopping. It started to rain lightly.

I can’t remember what kind of store it was, but through reflection in the store window, I could see a group of men approaching me. Now I was scared. I reasoned that they were not looking at me, just walking down the street in the same direction. I froze to the spot and just continued to watch them approach. I could now see uniforms. I don’t know one uniform from another. Finally, they were right behind me, speaking English with very American accents. I turned around and said, “I’m American.” I guess they were caught off guard and their stance seemed to soften. The oldest one, maybe close to 40, got that look on his face, similar to the Columbian in Denmark. He asked, “What are you doing out in the street at this hour alone?” I answered that I was trying to get the nerve to enter the restaurant.

It seemed as if the fleet was in, and that particular group had just gotten some shore leave. While some of the guys decided they wanted to go and find somewhere to party, many of them stayed and said they would be happy to accompany me for food.

Little me, the “child,” left out in the dark. I had dinner, and I was quizzed. “Was I afraid to go into the restaurant because I couldn’t pay? Was I afraid to go back to the hotel? Was anyone bothering me? Was I really a college student? Did anyone make me come to Norway? In the end, I must have answered their questions. They escorted me back to the hotel and said goodnight. I learned that the older guy was a father. Although his daughter was much younger than me, his paternal attitude kicked in. I was in safe hands. Besides, I think I truly entertained them.

I wanted to be the strong independent woman. I found it was better sometimes to play the little sad girl who was fearful. I realize now, I was just lucky. I met well meaning, but overbearing men. I laughed, no women ever approached me, concerned for my well being.

The situation of eating alone didn’t arise again in Oslo. The girl I met at the station had dinner with me the next two nights. We both departed on the same day.