People, some strangers and some barely-known...

Hanging out at the Flying Pig (the hostel I stayed at). The girls I'm talking to are from Barcelona, and I think the guy at the bottom of the photo was the guy reading Bukowski all night, but I'm not sure.

My back... I'm wandering through Jordaan (see Exteriors page for pronunciation), and the hat rocks, thanks Mum!

My favourite photo of the whole trip. This guy, the three birds on the left side of the photo, the colours... his stillness, their frozen motion. Of course, in typical Amsterdam fashion, the story behind this is a bit sneaky: the guy kept tapping his urn-like coin receptacle with his trident, and only after I gave him money did he freeze in such a photo-friendly pose. All's well that ends well, though; I really do love this photo.

From the peace rally on Saturday the 15th. Amsterdam's was 80,000 people strong, London's somewhere closer to a million, I heard. Wow. It was exciting, and somewhat scary--I felt a whole lot closer, both geographically and emotionally, to the whole situation... It saddened me that protest is our only feasible outlet for outcry, but it heartened me to see such a diverse group of people united for the same cause, especially older people. Back at home, many protesters are crazy-haired self-proclaimed "anarchist" teenagers who want to skip school, and they can hurt the protest's legitimacy. This was not like that; it was solemn and joyful at the same time, incredibly global, and musical. One 'hymn' (I think it was written quite recently, if not for the express purpose of accompanying that specific rally) brought me to tears! It was a fabulous experience.

At a certain point, with no overt signal, everyone migrated from Dam Square where we'd congregated, out into the main streets of the city, and we walked around for a while. We walked slowly but purposely, and I heard many languages and saw many signs and a bit more of the city!

I know this isn't a person, but it's connected to the rally. Somebody made this dove out of papier-mâché, and hooked it up to life support (I don't know how clear that is in the photo). There were official-looking emergency forms attached to the footpost of its 'cot,' and many little bags for various IV drips. Quite powerful in person, although it loses much of that in photo form.

This photo makes it seem that the riot police officer is being strict with the woman, perhaps giving her directions to a convenient location to screw herself, but in reality, I think they were just having a pleasant conversation. Ah, the power of images.

We were near the American embassy, hence the preponderance of riot police. Nothing happened, though; it was a peace rally.

Man with Car. Soon to be an extremely valuable photo. I believe his arm positions are representative of Man's great struggle with his own maturation, desperately trying to reconcile his urge to retain child-like curiosity with his desire for wisdom... or maybe Laura just liked the car. Will we ever know?

This guy is part of an excellent four-piece jazz ensemble I saw at a place called Club Alto (the owner of which was the spitting image of Robin Williams). The jazzhole was basically a long, thin rectangle, at the back of which was situated this band. They were fabulous. 'Nuff said.

This is just cute. Cat (on the right) is a girl I met at the hostel, originally from the land of Oz, now living in the land of Eng.

Not pictured: The owner of Club Alto, the couple talking on the sidewalk (their motorcycles stationed between them), the hotdogging rollerblader in Vondelpark, the countless cyclists (including many parents with their children in a little seat at the front), the prostitutes (easily seen through their front windows), the stoners, the pickpockets (as far as I know, I didn't encounter a single one), the cool people who live in Amsterdam, the not-so-cool...

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