The happenings

So, just some interesting interactions abroad:

Paris, Market
Sol and I are at the market, getting what else? . . . bread, wine and cheese of course. There’s a Parisian brotha working at the register. Once we start speaking English, a smile flashes across his face.

Parisian brotha: Oh, you’re American?

Sol & I: Yes. (we both nod and smile)

Parisian brotha: Obama! Yes WE can. (then laughs)

Sol & I: Yes, that’s right. (we both laugh)
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Amsterdam, NL
We are at Sonny’s (my favorite patat frite and falafel joint thus far). We’ve already placed our orders and see the falafels are just about ready to be handed over and shortly thereafter devoured.

Before we proceed . . . it should be explained that the previous day Sonny’s chef was kind enough to show us how best to accept the falafel (therefore minimizing our chances of spilling). One hand palm face UP and the other hand palm DOWN on top.

Back to the story . . . falafel’s are just about ready and Sol has assumed the aforementioned position. Funny thing is, he ends up waiting a little, hands still fixed for the taking, out-stretched over the counter.

Dutch woman (with cartoon, blonde, pigtail braids) has the prepared falafel: You hungry, huh? (laughs)

Sol: Yeah (but he really was thinking . . . just give me the damn falafel, bitch!)
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Amsterdam, NL
At another falafel joint (not as good as Sonny,’s but whatever). Sol is paying for our meal at the register.

A woman, head covered with a scarf enters the shop. She exchanges words with the shop owner (in Dutch) then gets change for her bills.

As she exits, she looks at me then says, “alayki s-salām.”

I smile. This is the first time someone has greeted me in Arabic.

On the GZA’s trail

Since today Sol really was off to the hospital, I ventured out on my own. Map in hand, I was on the GZA’s trail. Rumor has it the GZA a.k.a. The Genius a.k.a. Gary Grice of the Wu-Tang Clan a.k.a. Killa Bees will be performing in Amsterdam.

Success. There is truth to the rumor and the tickets are in my knapsack. I don’t want to get our hopes up, but there is a strong possibility the legendary Rakim will be in the building. Say whaaat?

All that ticket hunting worked up an appetite, and lucky for me I stumbled across some serious take-out stir fry. Share the menu? I shall . . . brown rice w/ shitake mushrooms, tofu, and broccoli (Sol’s favorite) in spicy coconut curry sauce. Oh yes.

The Wu-Tang Clan . . . stir fry. Coincidence? I think not, chew on that brain food. –Starr*

Paris is for us.

Paris has blown my mind. It is the only place in which I have spent time (or lived, U.S. included) where I felt completely comfortable looking the way I look.

I am a 30 year old Black woman and it’s crazy that I have yet to experience this freedom until now. We have ridden the metro, walked Paris’ cobblestone streets, enjoyed a 3-course dinner in a fine restaurant and it has been marvelous. No one has looked oddly at my freckles, stared rudely at my hair or thought twice about my husband being the tall, handsome Mexican man he is : )

Paris is for us.

In this moment I think of Josephine Baker, Aimé Césaire, Richard Wright, James Baldwin, Paul Robeson, Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, Miles Davis, and Paulette Nardal. The feeling is mutual. –Starr*

Say, Amsterdam, I like your style.

So . . . Sol’s first work day was “canceled.” Reason being? The weather was “too nice”. Seriously? Definitely! Looks like we brought the sunshine and blue sky with us from Paris. Our first couple of days in Amsterdam were lovely, we’re talkin’ high 70’s/low 80’s (which we were told by everyone is unseasonably warm).

Sol’s plan of action . . . soak up the sun while cooling off with adult beverages accompanied by newly found friends. Say, Amsterdam . . . I like your style.

Now the scoop on where we’re settin’ up shop. We spent our first few days in a cozy studio apartment in de Pijp neighborhood, Amsterdam’s “Quartier Latin”. The area is plenty lively and is home to both an ethnically and socioeconomically diverse crowd. Around the corner is Amsterdam’s largest market, Albert Cuypmark. Named after a well-known landscape painter, this huge market offers a sundry of goods: produce, incense, jewelry, clothing, iPhone cases (Sol bought one here to replace his broken one), fresh flowers and oh so much more.

While a large grocery store is a short walk away, I opt to buy produce from the street market. Everything is fresh and the prices are on point:
3 mangoes- 1 Euro
6 mandarin oranges- .50cents
1 bunch of scallions- 1 Euro . . . and the list goes on.

Since our arrival in Europe (beginning in France) Sol and I have been utterly spoiled rotten with freshly baked bread each day. Here in Amsterdam our bakery of choice is Brood, conveniently located around the corner from our apartment. In the morning we watch them roll out the soft dough and get to baking. By the afternoon, a line has overflowed onto the straat (no, that’s not a typo, just tossing in little Dutchty Dutch for “street”). –Starr*