Northern Lights

Mon amie, Cassidy, m'a demandé quand j'allais publier mon article sur mon séjour en Amsterdam. Pour une raison ou une autre, j'ai complètement oublié de le publier. Hm, pourquoi? Peut-être fumais-je tellement de cannabis? Pas possible!

Je suis désolée de ne pas écrire plus souvent, mais ma vie ici est chaotique. Les vacances de Noël commenceront à la fin de cette semaine, et j'espère avoir le temps d'écrire quelque chose. Cependant, j'écrirai en français, donc cherchez des dictionnaires français-anglais parce que vous en aurez besoin.

Joyeux Noël, mes amis!


What is there to say about Brussels? It wasn’t Washington D.C., that’s for sure. Perhaps you do not know why I make such a comparison, but it is completely logical. You see, I know Brussels for one thing: It is the capital of the EU. If you are following my studies at OU, you know already that the European Union is one of a few points I’ve focused on. So, to see some of the buildings, that was interesting, yes, but not inspiring. My favorite city in the world so far has been Washington D.C., because not only does it have all the amenities of a large city, but the history is tangible. You walk down the streets and you can feel power emanating from the ground. If you expose your palms towards the sidewalks, you can feel the energy of the city, in all its evil and all its virtue.

Brussels, however, does not have this feel. Maybe for someone who loves Belgium, they would find inspiration from the Belgium power structures. If you are looking for some grand European power structure, you won’t find it here. Here is an irony: It’s easier to walk around D.C. than it is to walk around Brussels. Here are some things that are appropriate: the property layout is disconnected and disorienting. There is nothing about the physical appearance that suggests power. For someone wanting to find something by looking at it, it instead appears to push people away. What does this say about the EU that the EU wants to say? We’re disconnected? We may talk a lot, but in actuality we’re very weak? We will happily answer any questions given you do not want to ask anything?

Hate to tell you this, but the church had the Vatican, the U.S. has the White House, and even Coors has a museum/factory you can visit. I can understand if you are trying to be cheap or trying to avoid giving favoritism to one area or another, but the EU has got to invest in a “visitable” and physical center for their organization if it wants to be taken seriously. Maybe that seems superficial, but humans are superficial, especially when it comes to politics. Give us a place to tour.

Amsterdam. I met an English boy near Sacre Cœur in Paris who described Amsterdam as, “one grand social experiment. Everyone gets fucked up with one drug or another, and then, they get lost.” It’s so true. You walk through the streets, and you wonder who is on what. Is that a joint they’re smoking, or a cigarette? Do you think that person is drunk? Did they have too much coffee or maybe they’re on coke? You give up trying to separate, and instead become the object of judgment. Then you look at the map and think, “Wait. Where the hell am I?” Ah, yeah, she’s on the pot.

You may be wondering where the title of this post will come in. If you were looking for information about aurora borealis, I’m sorry to tell you that you will be disappointed. Northern lights was the first pot I smoked on my trip to Amsterdam. I wrote about a paragraph on my first day in Amsterdam, but that paragraph has disappeared. I remember that moment and this moment, but not much of the in between. I’ll try to make some sense of it.

The first night was easy enough. We smoked. We ate. Then, we ate a lot of candy. Finally, we fell asleep.

The next day was a little more difficult. Unfortunately, we were set loose into Amsterdam without a map. We stumbled around until we were finally able to find a map, and then made for our first destination: register at the Cannabis Cup. I remember one particular corner of the map particularly well, because I went up and down this area, I swear, 5 times. We checked the map, we checked the address, and it wasn’t there. We found an Internet café and checked the address. Yup, everything was right, but the Sugar Factory was not there. It wasn’t until we went to the Sugar Factory’s website that we found the problem. The Cannabis cup put down “23B” not “238.” Right. Well, at least the internet café is also a smoke shop. Get high, and keep walking.

After quickly checking in, we went to another coffee shop and smoke out again. This time we went to the Van Gogh museum. I went there on my last trip stoned, and I loved it. This was the first time I noticed differences in my highs. This time was not enjoyable, and I realized that the pot I must have had before was ten times better than the stuff I was using this time. Before, I would just stand and stare at the paintings, believing I could stare at them forever. This time, I got bored.

That night we saw the movie, “The Departed.” Fantastically interesting. It was a bit of a downer, but I loved the concept of the movie. I like how the title appropriately gives away the ending on some level. On this trip, I also saw “The Devil Wears Prada,” which was a bit of a disappointment. The concept was good, but the result was boring, preachy, and cliché. Finally, I saw “Babel” last night. It was a risky choice, because the subtitles are in Dutch, and there is more than one language (obviously) in this film. But, it some way, it was appropriate. I was able to understand what was going on, but I felt frustrated by some of the storyline I couldn’t read. I really identified with the American characters trying to communicate, but being unable to. Great movie. Can’t wait to see it again in with English subtitles.

The interesting thing is the movie options. November is the beginning of the serious season for films (November and December is when all the Oscar nominated films start popping up left and right. Wouldn’t be surprised to find “Babel” or “The Departed” making a claim to either of those lists.) I just wonder if the Amsterdam city council gets a kick out of the idea of the Cannabis cup. Let’s see, let’s get a bunch of people stoned, make them walk all around our city in the rain and the cold, then deprive them of quality “stoner” films, and let’s see how great they feel about pot afterwards.

So, moving on, the next day we started touring some coffee shops, curious how this whole “judge’s pass” thing works. Well, essentially you can go into coffee shops and show your pass and you get some access to things you might not be able to get otherwise. Some shops gave out free merchandise, some gave you free pot, and some would stare at you like, “Uh huh, you’re a judge. Good for you (sarcasm)! So, are you going to buy anything?” I was under the impression that becoming a judge meant free access to every Cannabis Cup entry. Not the case. In most cases, you had to buy a gram, usually at good prices, but still had to be bought.

We went, then, to the opening ceremonies, and I had a hard time not laughing. I mean, pot makes me giggly anyway, but this situation made it worse. The opening ceremonies were absurd. I don’t get high so I can sound smart. I’m a smart person. Talk to me and you’ll know that. When we know each other pretty well, then I’ll get stoned with you. Then you can see me stupid, and know that even I need a rest from my own brain. But here are these people, trying to run this event, and they are all blazed. Rather than admit they are blazed, they try to do this show that is all “heartfelt” and respectful of the thing that is Cannabis. Hey, I have respect for hippies, but these are hippies gone wrong. It’s pot, dude. That’s it. Let’s get stoned and listen to some music, man. This is not a time to pretend you can be eloquent.

This had a negative effect that I believe was tri-fold. First, I think there were those people who saw me laughing and were angry that I was not “respecting the ceremony.” I felt bad, like an intruder. This is their deal, they can run it however they like. Then there were those like me, who found the event ridiculous, but they did not attempt to hide their disdain. I just wanted to tell them to shut up for the love of all that it good in the world, or leave. Anger at me, shame within me, and anger at others. It’s just not what you want when you’re stoned.

I think there is a curiosity in American culture over what life would be like if people smoked publicly. Well, this is what you get. Yes, there is the convenience of being able to smoke where you like, but then you have to deal with others. I mean, I met some cool people, but I remember better the people who annoyed me the most. More than anything else, I wanted to just go home, smoke with some friends, order-in, and watch a movie I’ve already seen 10 times. If Americans are somehow worried about stoned people taking to the streets if we decriminalize marijuana, I’ve got good news for you: stoned people don’t like public spaces.

But, hey, we bought these judges passes, so damn it we’re going to use them! So, Cassidy and I go to the expo. I have to say it was like going to some weird version of the fair. These are farmers, and they’re here to show off their finest seeds, growing methods, and new devices… that get you completely stoned! Each has their own little both with pamphlets and demonstrations. “Try the new such and such vaporizer!” or “Such and such gravity bongs” and so on. Really? Okay… And don’t forget the bins (BINS!) of pot. You want a nug? Here just take it! How about a special brownie? Only 4 euros! Okay, okay, only 3 euros (winks), but keep us in mind when you vote, okay? Okay…

I noticed that the Cannabis cup seemed to be made up of certain kinds of people. First is the growers themselves. This makes sense. They spend their life devoted to quality marijuana, so they should have a convention. But then there are the flower hippies, which I spoke of earlier. Then, there are the Americans. There were a lot of us, but there were not a lot of young Americans. You could identify us out of a crowd. Usually we talked more, laughed louder, and we were probably smoking out of a pipe, not a joint. We’re not all bad. I think Cassidy and I were a good representation. We smoked quietly, kept a map on us, cash on us, and never demanded anything. I appreciated that most people assumed we were British. We speak English like natives, so we can’t pretend we’re French, but at least people thought we were not like the other “Americans.” I’m sure those people are the reason why other people want to forbid public smoking in Amsterdam.


Anyway, so thinking of these people, we decided to pass on the Cannabis Cup parties. Instead, we just go from one coffeeshop to the next, smoking a lot of pot. It was over our last two days that we smoked the most varieties. We heard the results for the top 7 (3 top entries: Mako Haze [smoked it], Crystal Bomb [smoked it], and Arjan’s Ultra Haze #1 [smoked it], 4 honorable mentions: John Sinclair [smoked it], G-13 Haze [smoked it], Blueberry [smoked it], and one other that neither Cass nor I can remember… Hm, I wonder why?) It was like a little study of Amsterdam’s coffee shops. Is it old or new? Traditional or modern? Expensive, cheap, bright, dark, touristy, back-corner, friendly, chilled, happy, thoughtful, American, European, Asian, Middle Eastern, themed, just pot themed, just a store with pot in it? Every store was a surprise.

Of all the pot I smoked, I enjoyed Crystal Bomb the most. I was clear headed, up, and happy. Extremely happy. I couldn’t tell if it was just that the sun came out, though. All the edges of objects seems a little blurred, giving the appearance that everything was illuminated. We had a lot of walking to do at this point of the day, but I greeted the idea enthusiastically.

It does make me wonder to what degree environment affects your high. Perhaps it’s not fair to the other strands that I smoke them on cloudy days in overcrowded coffee shops next to people I didn’t know and/or didn’t like. But, I became highly appreciative to the stores that were concerned about my stay. Thank you, Barney’s, for you side coffee shop with a breakfast menu that would satisfy the hunger of any stoned person. Thank you for the free stuff, too. Thank you to the Sensi Museum, with it’s little private area for judges and free samples. Thank you to the other smokers who did not talk to me while I was stoned. Thank you to our big, cozy room we stayed in just above a smoke shop. (Thank you to the free Internet I could receive from within my room.) Thank you to the pretty streets, to the hot chocolate with more whipped cream than drink, to the movie theater, and to raspberry cheesecake. Thank you episodes of “Scrubs” I had saved on my computer. Especially thank you to the new shampoo we bought it Amsterdam. It will continue to serve me well into my continued stay in France.

In the end, I enjoyed the experience. If I were to make recommendations, go to Amsterdam during the summer. It’s warm, walking around is fun, and the Cup is not worth it unless you live in Amsterdam or you are invested in the business. Before you go to Amsterdam, though, take a moment to get suggestions on coffee shops and last year’s cup winner. Then, just smoke and enjoy the pot scene when it’s not too busy. The Cup, well, it’s one of those unique things I will be able to say to shock people. Maybe I’ll tell my interns one day when I’m in my 50s as some political figure in the State Department, “Oh, yeah, well, I went to the Cannabis Cup back in 2006…” What, they will say to themselves, Secretary Eastland smoked (smokes?) pot? Even if that thought never comes to fruition, I just spent three days doing nothing but getting stoned. And, it was a good three days.