A change of heart in Amsterdam ( NL)

Amsterdam has a reputation as a city of liberalism and tolerance.

That´s not true! People are indifferent. There´s a disparity; they just don´t care! Other than that, life is simple there: it´s a cold place with cold people who don´t take an interest to connect to someone they have no interest in.

 For the longest time, I thought I was the only one to think that. I´m not! Foreigners who came to Amsterdam centuries ago already said that´s it´s a city that has no place for humanities, and even wrote books about it.

It´s a beautiful city, but the search for human contact proves a real challenge.

We used to live on Java Island. - some called it Manhattan on the IJ: a narrow peninsula in the eastern harbour district that was built in 1900 for the mooring of large ocean ships. This harbour became redundant when the port activities shifted westwards and the city decided to transform the district in a residential area.

Surrounded by water, the buildings along the quays are portioned by four lateral relatively small canals, each with its own hallucinogenic bridge.

An august heatwave was in full swing and with-it tropical nights to contend with. The air was hot and humid. We cracked every window open in the house, put fans on, but with no breeze and stagnant air… all it did was moving air around. The children and the dog were at the end of their tether. They felt sticky and uncomfortable.  Around midnight the kids stopped tossing and turning, and I decided it was time to take the dog out for a small walk.

A mixed crowd of people were out, sitting by the waterfront having cold drinks, looking for an escape from the heat.

My dog wasn´t a particularly enthusiastic participant to this after midnight stroll; still I managed to walk to the next canal.

And there I found him! A young man on a mountain bike, on the bridge over the canal. He looked lost and bewildered.   I thought maybe he felt unwell because of the heat. So, I asked him if he was all right. He shrunk away like he was scared. I asked him again if he needed help, and he stared at me, but I don´t think he really saw me. The dog went sniffing his bike and I got a little closer to get him away from there.

- “I don´t know where I am,” he stuttered, almost whispering.

 I explained where he was.

- “No!”

He swept his hand against his forehead to get rid of the beads of sweat.

- “I don´t know how to get back.”

- “get back where?” I asked.

-” to my hotel – I´m lost!” he was close to crying.

I asked if he had the name of the hotel and he showed me a map. I didn´t bother to look at it. I could clearly see that he was in distress. Without thinking I told him, that I just lived a few meters away around the corner and that he could spend the night there. In the morning things would look different and he could get safely on his way.

He stared at me for a few seconds – and then he whispered all right. He got of his bike, and we walked back to my house. I told him to secure his bike and we went in.

He still looked frightened- and this time it was my turn to whisper; I assured him that this was only not to wake up the kids. He explained that he had smoked a joint and that he felt very weird- like he couldn´t spell his own name. I told him not to worry about that now, walked him upstairs to an empty room. Gave him some towels and showed him where the bathroom was, told him my room was downstairs and bid him good night.

I stood a bit on the terrace looking over the river and thinking about the complete stranger I just offered shelter for the night. He looked so lost!

Next morning, I woke up the kids, telling them to keep quiet because we had a guest.  They bombarded me with questions of course, and I was grateful they had to hurry to go catch the school bus so there was not time for the third degree they were going to subject me to. And to which I had no answers.

He woke up after they left for school. I was sitting in the living room having coffee.

He looked refreshed but very embarrassed.

 I asked him if he felt better. He nodded:

-         “I don´t know what happened. It was like I was lost in a dark forest. This has never happened before.”

I told him not to worry about that and to go get himself some coffee. He asked if he could join me in the living room and I extended my hand by way of welcome.

He sat and enjoyed the coffee. He started expressing his gratitude and how happy he was I gave him a bed for the night; asked me if he owned me anything- made me smile. Of course not!

And then he started telling me, that he was from Ireland and travelling across Europe in his van. Three days before he was somewhere in France, where he had a good time and had been helping out stranded travellers he met along the way. Lending a hand was kind of second nature to him. The weather there was extremely hot too- and one night he was sleeping in his van with open windows, when all over sudden people attacked him: the same people he had helped earlier that day. They were after the van and his money. He mentioned that never in his life he had laid his hand on a fellow human being; but that he had fought like a lion and after a short but violent fight, the culprits ran off.

He had made a pact with himself right there and then never ever to help out people again.

I could see it was difficult for him to put this negative encounter into words and replaying this terrible event.

He chatted a bit on how things looked so much brighter this morning. Thanked me again a couple of times and said that it was time to be on his way.

He brought his coffee mug to the kitchen and put on his shoes.

 On his way out he firmly shook my hand and with a profoundly serious look on his face he said:

- “You made me change my mind! You restored my faith in humanity!”  as if he was reaffirming his integrity and his relation to strangers.

I smiled and wished him safe but happy travels!

And off he went on his bike with a smile on his face.

I never asked his name …

Hope he had a great time travelling the continent!