First Class, Dutch Mom, First Bar
This day, Friday, I had an introductory class to what is becoming my favorite class – Introduction to Organized Crime. Our professor goes by “Tim” because his last name is too impossible to go by Professor So-and-So. He explained in great detail that the class was not a law class, but a sociology class.
Instead of focusing on the “wrong-doer” or the rules, we will examine what causes crime, who is involved in crime, what global phenomenons facilitate organized crime, and – most fascinating to me – so-called facilitators of organized crime, like government officials, banks, lawyers, landlords, and all the parts of society that organized crime relies upon to operate.
Tim’s experience is going to make the class really interesting, I think. For years, he did “field research” in organized crime. He actually spent time on the streets, in bars, and got interviews with criminals to study their habits, learn their secrets, and find out what types of people they are and what they do. He really emphasized that it didn’t matter who they were, since his goal was not to gather evidence, etc., but only to understand the social structure, and how it relates to general society.
After class, I wandered around quite a bit, and found what is now my favorite street, the Oudegracht (“ooh-duh-grockt”). This heroine is near the school, in front of the Dom (the main cathedral). I pass by there daily. Then, along the Oudegracht, I saw a wedding! Geoff says this is uncommon in the Netherlands, as many Dutch feel it is unnecessary to be married; most just live together and have children together. In Family Law last semester, we talked about how marriage is so important in the US because many advantages – tax, health insurance, property transfer at death – come with being officially married. Here, many benefits are enjoyed by citizens whether single or married.
Two more exciting things occurred this day:
As I strolled along the Oudegracht, trying not to drool at all the fun shopping that could be had on this canal street, I saw a food truck called “Vietnames Loempias.” Loempias (also lumpias, in the US) is a Philipino food, as far as I know. But, I walked up to the truck very hopefully.
Me: Do you speak English?
Lady: No
Me: Do you speak Vietnamese?
Lady: Yes.
She arrived here in 1984, as a refugee. She has a lot of relatives in California, but intends to stay here indefinitely. We spoke in Vietnamese for about 15 minutes, and I went on my way with a toasty pate chaud-like pastry, stuffed with glass noodles, carrots, chicken, and onion. It was realllllly nice. I decided she could be my Dutch mom, and I would try to visit her a few times a week. Hey – she might even invite me over for some Pho!
Also, this night Maggie got some recommendations for where to go out in the city. Her roommates recommended a place called Het Hart. It was raining when we left Centraal to walk to the bar. Outside, there was a dense crowd of people, squishing underneath the canopies and intermittenly illuminating their faces with the glow of their cigarettes when they inhaled. As in Philly, you cannot smoke in the bars here. We pushed our way through the crowd: “Sorry, sorry, sorry” (“so-dee, so-dee, so-dee”), and entered a narrow, crowded bar with turntables by the entrance (sans DJ), and a few tables, which were definitely occupied. I’m not sure if we actually walked to the back, or kind of just got ejected to the back wall by the flow of traffic; nonetheless, we ended up by the bathroom doors and the single coatrack, supporting about 100 coats. I got four beers for EU6 (about 8.50). (I only ordered three but I guess there was a misunderstanding).
We placed the extra beer on the table, but could not drink it by the time we were done with our first round because we lost sight of it for about ten minutes. (There is a lot of caution around leaving your drink unattended here; a friend of mine had a story about a party she went to, where she lost sight of her drink for five minutes, drank it, and ended up in the hospital after she became paralyzed. She couldn’t move her body or use her vocal chords, but was completely aware and conscious. Sounds horrifying.) So, a beer was wasted, but we felt it was a good decision. After another round, we went home – Maggie and Suzanne to their new apartments, me to the Little Siam.
Instead of focusing on the “wrong-doer” or the rules, we will examine what causes crime, who is involved in crime, what global phenomenons facilitate organized crime, and – most fascinating to me – so-called facilitators of organized crime, like government officials, banks, lawyers, landlords, and all the parts of society that organized crime relies upon to operate.
Tim’s experience is going to make the class really interesting, I think. For years, he did “field research” in organized crime. He actually spent time on the streets, in bars, and got interviews with criminals to study their habits, learn their secrets, and find out what types of people they are and what they do. He really emphasized that it didn’t matter who they were, since his goal was not to gather evidence, etc., but only to understand the social structure, and how it relates to general society.
After class, I wandered around quite a bit, and found what is now my favorite street, the Oudegracht (“ooh-duh-grockt”). This heroine is near the school, in front of the Dom (the main cathedral). I pass by there daily. Then, along the Oudegracht, I saw a wedding! Geoff says this is uncommon in the Netherlands, as many Dutch feel it is unnecessary to be married; most just live together and have children together. In Family Law last semester, we talked about how marriage is so important in the US because many advantages – tax, health insurance, property transfer at death – come with being officially married. Here, many benefits are enjoyed by citizens whether single or married.
Wedding procession along the Oudegract - bride in white with fuschia shawl
Two more exciting things occurred this day:
As I strolled along the Oudegracht, trying not to drool at all the fun shopping that could be had on this canal street, I saw a food truck called “Vietnames Loempias.” Loempias (also lumpias, in the US) is a Philipino food, as far as I know. But, I walked up to the truck very hopefully.
Me: Do you speak English?
Lady: No
Me: Do you speak Vietnamese?
Lady: Yes.
She arrived here in 1984, as a refugee. She has a lot of relatives in California, but intends to stay here indefinitely. We spoke in Vietnamese for about 15 minutes, and I went on my way with a toasty pate chaud-like pastry, stuffed with glass noodles, carrots, chicken, and onion. It was realllllly nice. I decided she could be my Dutch mom, and I would try to visit her a few times a week. Hey – she might even invite me over for some Pho!
Also, this night Maggie got some recommendations for where to go out in the city. Her roommates recommended a place called Het Hart. It was raining when we left Centraal to walk to the bar. Outside, there was a dense crowd of people, squishing underneath the canopies and intermittenly illuminating their faces with the glow of their cigarettes when they inhaled. As in Philly, you cannot smoke in the bars here. We pushed our way through the crowd: “Sorry, sorry, sorry” (“so-dee, so-dee, so-dee”), and entered a narrow, crowded bar with turntables by the entrance (sans DJ), and a few tables, which were definitely occupied. I’m not sure if we actually walked to the back, or kind of just got ejected to the back wall by the flow of traffic; nonetheless, we ended up by the bathroom doors and the single coatrack, supporting about 100 coats. I got four beers for EU6 (about 8.50). (I only ordered three but I guess there was a misunderstanding).
We placed the extra beer on the table, but could not drink it by the time we were done with our first round because we lost sight of it for about ten minutes. (There is a lot of caution around leaving your drink unattended here; a friend of mine had a story about a party she went to, where she lost sight of her drink for five minutes, drank it, and ended up in the hospital after she became paralyzed. She couldn’t move her body or use her vocal chords, but was completely aware and conscious. Sounds horrifying.) So, a beer was wasted, but we felt it was a good decision. After another round, we went home – Maggie and Suzanne to their new apartments, me to the Little Siam.
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