Prins Hendrikkade, Centraal, Damrak, Kalverstraat, Spui

So, today I had two more classes - one on Masculinity and Migration which I am SUPER EXCITED for, and one on Regulating Religious and Cultural Diversity in the Netherlands which I am slightly less super excited for, just because it's not my field - but I am still pretty amped. It is nice to have classes with non-IES kids (although there are also boatloads of IES kids in my classes, and that is nice too). But today I met an Australian boy and a French girl and some other interesting people who are not from the Netherlands or America. My masculinity professor is kinda hilarious - he spent a while talking to us about how he was "very taken with lady hats." Intellectually, too, I'm really pumped to take a class in masculinity studies. We are supposed to do and incorporate 1300-1600 pages of independent academic reading in addition to the two books on the syllabus, and so I am hoping that I'll get to do a lot of reading that I can connect back to my independent study and my general academic background. Matthias will also be a good contact, I think, for my independent project - he was very interested in the little bit I explained during our introductions today, and he's spent a lot of time working as a parliamentary assistant in sexual policy here. Maybe I can interview him. I'm just not sure if it's done here or not, to use professors as connections. I will try to feel that out.

I wandered around in the rain for a long time, looking for a black sweatshirt and reasonably priced rainboots, and finding neither - I was in the touristy commercial center, though, so I'm sure reasonable prices can be found elsewhere. I also got my Dutch book at a store called Athenaeum - it's a student bookshop, but it made me homesick for Talking Leaves. There were lots of levels with staircases between them and little nooks full of books and students everywhere browsing and reading. A man approached me on the Spui as I left. "Excuse me," he said, "and started to walk with me with an ease that took me aback, "I have a proposition for you. My name is Matthew and I will recite a poem for you. I am a wanderer. If you like this poem, perhaps you can give me a small donation because this is Amsterdam and - are you a poet?" (I nod yes)- "I thought so - we poets, it is good to expand our consciousness, if you give me this donation I will go to a coffeeshop to enjoy myself and write more poems to recite to you. And if you don't like the poem, it's free and you don't have to give me anything. Do you agree to this attempt?" I considered and nodded. Then he recited a pretty decent poem - mostly, though, I was impressed with his cadence. He had a very light Dutch or South African lilt and a very good grasp of dynamics. I don't remember any of it except something about tripping in Switzerland. So there we were, walking in the rain, and he finished and stood expectantly. "Very nice," I said. "Was it worth a small donation? Perhaps ten cents?" Certainly, I said, and rummaged around - but the only coin I had was a 2 euro, which is quite a lot to be giving away. But, in the spirit of supporting a fellow poet - "Here," I said, and pressed it into his palm. He looked at it and shook his head in wonder. "This, miss," he said, "this is amazing," and he pulled off his hood. "Look at my face - if you are again walking these streets and see the man with this face, know that he will recite for you always for free." And then he went on his merry way, and I went back to my apartment to eat potatoes and dry my shoes and pants.