The Gulag

Well, the American Consulate in Amsterdam is most unpleasant. It has a very high and intimidating steel security fence all the way around it; and it is not apparent where the entrance is, so you have to walk all the way around the building, encountering on your way at least three police officers peering alertly about on the other side of the fence. Finally I had to stop one to ask where the entrance was. He directed me to an equally intimidating security gate (I am not easily intimidated, y'all, the Federal Pen in Atlanta is more welcoming than this).

Outside the gate is a gaggle of people, some of whom are queing and some of whom are just sort of standing around. So I asked them how this worked, as I had been told ont he phone that it was a walk in procedure to renew a passport. Only you can't actually walk in, you see. It was explained that someone came out at sort of random intervals to let people through. So I asked how the nice people inside knew we were there. Everyone looked confused. Then a man came along the street, clearly looking for something. He hesitated by the gate, and the Voice of God came from nowhere: "SIR, IF YOU WOULD JUST STAND ON THE LEFT THERE I'LL BE RIGHT OUT,".

Actually, it came from the speaker by the gate, and I deduced therefrom that there was a security camera somewhere, and that's how they knew we were there. Douwe deduced that this was a Very Bad Place which we should leave Right Now. I managed to convince him that we were staying and the guy came out to let us in. The Security guy on duty that day is really an extremely nice person, and was probably the only reason Douwe did not run away screaming.

So then there's the wand metal detector and the bag search. (All of this is still out of doors). Then you get to actually go in. Except you can't go in, because there's another security door to get through, then your bag (which was just searched) is passed to the Security Guy behind about four inch thick bulletproof glass through a little drawer thingie like they had for Hannibal Lechter in Silence of the Lambs. And you go through a walk through metal detector.

Then you finally get to go to the usual sort of governemnt office in which everybody stands behind more glass and you get to shout through it. And all they can see is the top maybe two thirds of my head because I am a small sort of person, and I doubt they ever saw Douwe at all. And in the end, Dearly Beloved has to make the trip to Amsterdam after all, because the consent form he signed was not notarized. It was not notarized because it doesn't say it has to be notarized. At least, not anywhere that I saw. (Which was flatly denied by the Consulate; they say it says that "everywhere". Maybe, but I surely did not intentionally make a several hour trip beginning at 5 am involving a bike, a bus, a train, and a tram with a five year old in hopes of getting away with something. Had I known, it would surely have been notarized.)

But whatever, Monday morning or thereabouts I expect The Spouse will journey to the north of Holland to write his name on a piece of paper and Douwe will get a new passport. And I am sure it is all my fault.

Afterwards, it took about an hour and a half, one Happy Meal at McDonald's and a juggler in the square to convince Douwe that Amsterdam is not a really frightening place in which you are in danger of being put in a cage and not let out again. I got to see one of my my favorite musea, though, so that was nice. It does go both ways, apparently. Though the fact that the museum has an elevator made entirely of glass except for the floor and a maze outside in the garden unquestionably helped.

However, Douwe hates a painter called Frans Hals. Walked into the Hals Room, looked at all four walls, said "No," quite certainly and left the room and would not go back.

We then went on a canal tour of Amsterdam in a boat and otherwise mostly just walked around. It was actually a lot of fun. Then,of course, it was back on the tram and the train and the bus and the bike to get home. To explain to Dearly Beloved that he gets to go to Amsterdam next week between the hours of 8:30 and 11:30.