Day 14a: Walking in her steps…

Day: 14a

Countries: 4               Cities: 7

Amsterdam, Netherlands

Walking in her steps…

Day 14a 

Saturday 2 January 2016

I like Amsterdam. A lot.

You know you like a city when, even in the rain and dreary weather it still manages to charm you. J  I think this might be my favorite city yet. Maybe even better than Rome… Yep, I think (now, reflecting on it a couple months later, definitely better…).  It’s like Budapest with that instant captivating charm but with wayyy better food.

Started off today fairly early, wishing for just a little more sleep but with a pretty good night’s rest behind me. I could hardly keep my eyes open for the movie last night and we both decided to turn it off early and turn in. Before midnight.  Us old ladies can't quite handle these late nights in new cities like we used to ;) … But that's ok.

We woke up and got going, heading toward the Anne Frank House first thing for our 930 tour time. Both of our morning cafe recommendations were still closed that early, but fortunately we found a decent place right across the street from the Anne Frank House that sold coffee and fresh-made stroop waffles. One of the best things known to man.  A sweet, delectable specialty of Amsterdam.  Like a thin cross between a waffle and a pinelle (like our former neighbor/adopted grandmother, Lucille, used to make) and then you carefully slice it in half and smother stroop syrup (almost like a caramely, maple-syrupy type concoction) in the middle, and then put it back together and it's crunchy and sweet and melts in your mouth and is just downright delicious. So that was our (not-so-nutritious-but-delicious) breakfast.

Next up was the Anne Frank House which was pretty incredible. Impressively and well done. Informative. Poignant. Impacting. Powerful. Moving. That's the word in looking for. Moving. Struck a cord. Triggered the tears. At multiple points. And I don't often cry. But at seemingly random moments, it just hits sometimes…

I'm glad we bought our tickets ahead of time online. Well worth it. We skipped the huge line that had formed outside, down the street and around the block. People waiting in line for hours standing in the chill and misty rainy dreariness waiting. We also got a good history/overview of the Frank family and the annex and the circumstances and the history surrounding. Which was really nice to have a refresher course, set the context, and learn more details about Anne's life.

And then after the overview we were able to walk through the house at or own pace, following a bit of a line with the build-up of people.

You start on the bottom floors of her father’s factory/office and work your way up narrow, steep stairs, learning more, seeing pictures from the family or of the refurbished replica rooms or hearing from people who knew the family giving their testimonies. Carefully and poignantly picked portions of her diary printed on the walls.

And then there is the original bookcase built to hide the staircase to the annex.

And then you go up.

And you see the tiny rooms. Not furnished but you can imagine. It's more impactful and powerful not furnished.

Your mind and your heart fills in the blanks.

And you're left walking through the rooms fighting back tears,

mouth pressed in a thin line,

eyes open wide,

 moving slowly of their own accord, one in front of the other in front of the other…

mind reeling

                                   

This happened.

This really happened.

And what about all the other Anne Frank's for whom there was no hiding place and now have no museum? There's a book there, In Memoriam, which has the names of over 100,000 Jews who were deported and killed. It's bigger than a dictionary.  With print almost as tiny as the print I would use to cram all of my science notes onto an index card before a big test… Filled with names.

Just names. 

Of people.

Who were killed.

For no reason.

It's awful. Sickening.  The hate.  How………

And then at the end of the tour you see her actual diary and you hear more from people who knew her and also from people today who have been impacted by her.

"Her would-haves are our opportunities."

I read the The Diary of Anne Frank when I was younger. First when I was pretty young and then again later when I could appreciate it more. I bought it again so I could read it once more and appreciate it even more with memories of this place lingering to fit with it, give more substance to her words.

I'd forgotten she'd written with such passion and purpose. And I didn't realize she was seeking publication. And I never imagined how her dad had to be strong enough to read it and then try to get it published. I didn't realize he had been so involved and instrumental in the museum. It was his wish that it be left unfurnished. It's just so....

And now how do I go on with the rest of the day? When my mind is still trying to process that…

~