The Tripod

Trinity, I sit here weeping. Weeping because instead of dining at Mather Hall, I eat Dutch pancakes and stroopwafels by the kilo (remember, it's the metric system here, darlings). Weeping, because instead of running from McCook to the English building with five minutes between classes, I leisurely ride my bike to my three classes a week, and then relax during my four-day weekends, or travel to exotic destinations like Maastricht or Budapest. Mostly weeping because instead of looking down on the grandeur of Frog Hollow from my window, outside here I see sparkling canals and beautiful blonde Dutch people throwing tulips to the wind.

So perhaps by weeping I mean smiling smugly, but still, I have moments of nostalgia for sun-filled afternoons on the quad, or missing out on the 12th win of our star squash boys, or the men in bushes with suspicious electric coffee grinders. In order to battle these waves of melancholy, I decided the most potent remedy would be to tell you a little bit about my life in Amsterdam. Yes, I realize that this has been done before, and you might tell me to go get a blog or something, but I feel that I have had some experiences, one in particular, that are fairly unique.

Amsterdam is a city of great diversity. Famed for its tolerance, some are known to visit in order to peruse the Red Light District, or maybe sample the delicacies found in the many coffee shops around the area. It prides itself on being the most international European hub, with over 150 countries represented. In addition, Amsterdam hosts a large gay community, and was in fact the first country to legalize gay marriage.

Guided by a strong vested interest in exploring the infamous nightlife, and seeing as there are a number of gay and lesbian students in my program, and guided by a strong vested interest in exploring the infamous nightlife, we set out one Tuesday earlier this semester to a gay bar called the Queen's Head, where they had beers for 1.50 Euros, and drag queen bingo. Upon arriving, it was quickly made clear that I, along with three other girls, were the only females in a bar packed with forty-something gay men. After settling down with some beverages and our bingo cards, we anxiously awaited the games to begin, as the grand prize would be the perfect addition to one of our dorm rooms: a toaster oven.

The drag queen, Tina Tampax, was a lovely six-foot creature with killer legs who read the bingo numbers out at rapid fire in three different languages. Suddenly, a moment of elation. I had bingo! I quickly thrust my sheet in the air and yelled BINGO at the top of my lungs, only to receive horrified looks from my friends as they explained to me that my one line of numbers would not suffice; this was two line bingo, and I had committed the heinous crime of calling out false bingo. Already burning with shame, I looked up as loud laughter commenced, and realized Tina was heading straight for me. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, she grabbed my hand and marched me onto the stage. After asking my name and where I was from, she informed me that I would have to be punished for my egregious error, and instructed me to turn and face towards the wall, bend over the stool onstage, and start counting down from ten. Before I fully grasped the gravity of my situation, I had uttered a "ten" and felt a resounding whack on my gluteus maximus. I endured ten ruthless spanks before I was finally released, speechless with laughter and mortification, back to my seat.

I know, I know, please try to contain your jealousy. However, there's a lesson to be learned from my odyssey. Studying abroad and traveling are wonderful ways to push your limits, try new things, and gather stories and memories that will last you a lifetime. I sincerely hope that all of you, at some point, have an opportunity to explore some other part of the world and do something crazy. But dear friends, however easy it might be to get caught up in the excitement and wonder of our big fabulous world, keep the thought in mind that to call out false bingo is truly unforgivable.

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