The Events of Sunday, June 12, 2011

                I awoke at six, earlier than usual in this new time zone. My walk took me to a church named “Heilig Hart”. Challenged by this puzzle, I remembered that “Silent Night” is a translation from the German “Heilege Nacht”, so the Flemish Heilig must mean holy. Hart must be heart: Holy Heart. Ah, yes, in English-speaking countries we have churches called “Sacred Heart”. I like Holy Heart though – it cuts through to the meaning of the phrase.

                Although we planned to leave Oostende today, we still had not seen their beach. So, after breakfast we drove there in about five minutes. It was a lovely, clean beach – with trash bins every 80 feet. On the ground we saw small shells of many sizes, colors, and shapes. There were very few rocks, which is why the sand was so lightweight. This type of sand in perfect for barefoot walking, so we all shed our shoes and enjoyed the tickly feeling of shells underfoot.

                After cleaning off our feet, we returned to the flat and packed up the car. Our destination today was Haarlem, in the Netherlands. Since we had little knowledge of this place, we spent most of the drive listening to Rick Steves podcasts. There were three about Dutch Culture and two about Amsterdam. After three months of listening to these podcasts, we have grown accustomed to Rick’s organizational structure: after some brief sound clips of the show, we get his theme music and an intro of the day’s topic and his guest host(s), then the main part of the show in which the hosts discuss the show’s topic and answer emails and phone calls. So it came as a pleasant surprise to hear one piece with an entirely different scheme. In the show entitled “Amsterdam” we heard a series of reflections, some with vivid and poetic language, authored and narrated by Rick Steves. Good stuff!

                We stopped the van only once, to eat our picnic lunch at a rest stop with a picnic table. Soon after, I saw modern wind turbines decorated with an orange stripe and announced, “We’re in the Netherlands!” Thirty seconds later we saw a sign: “Nederland”. The form of the land did not change: mostly flat, green grass fields lined with handsome trees. We arrived in Haarlem and checked into the StayOkay Hostel, where we have a family room with four bunk beds. (I had reserved a room for six, but for no additional charge we got a room for eight.) The maintenance staff had not yet cleaned our room, so we used the free WiFi in the lounge to update blogs and check email. Once our room was ready we moved into it. Our greatest challenge was trying to figure out how to get the comforters into the comforter covers without dragging them on the floor. Once settled, the girls read and relaxed while we boys showered. We asked and received permission to eat dinner in the community dining hall. This is a large room, seating about 100, decorated with most unusual wall art: cows suspended from ropes in a cloudy blue sky. Here is where we ate our PB&J sandwiches and salad, to the unexpected accompaniment of jazz guitar, courtesy of the hostel’s bored bartender.

                We quickly cleaned up dinner, brushed our teeth, changed clothes, and set out to Amsterdam for our evening concert. One of my delights on this trip is to visit some of the world’s best concert halls. Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw is one of these, and we had tickets to a Messiah Sing Along. We found that the free parking lot by the central train station was closed, so instead we parked across the street from the concert hall. When I reserved tickets online, I could only find six seats together in the balcony, next to the left-side wall. So it was a pleasant surprise to learn that, because of the small audience size, the balcony was closed and we should seat ourselves on the main level. The Concertgebouw is a lovely hall, nearly rectangular with rounded corners.  It is much smaller than I expected, seating perhaps 1000. Tonight’s audience might have been about 300, filling less than half of the main floor seats.  

                Surprise number two was that there were no scores to borrow, rent or buy. How were we to sing along in this Sing Along with no music? When we entered the hall, we saw a large chorus sitting on risers behind the stage. Pam suggested that perhaps these were the singers-along. As usual, she was correct. No one else in the audience had a score, and as far as I could hear, no one sang along. It was a large chorus, including about 200 women and 75 men, dressed mostly in black and white. When the concert began at 7:30, one female soloist, three male soloists, and the conductor walked down 33 steps to the stage. Three men? No alto? Then I noticed one of the male soloists wore a ruffled shirt and tails made from a flowery black print. Aha, a counter-tenor instead of an alto. Now, I have heard counter-tenors used in performances of Messiah before, but the rest of the family is accustomed to a female alto singer. I warned Caitlin and Ben that a counter-tenor sounds strange at first, but to listen with an open mind. Abby was not near enough to hear me, and her reaction was dramatic. Her facial expression exclaimed, “How in the world is that womanly sound coming out of that male body?” At the end of the concert, however, we agreed that the counter-tenor proved himself one of the most gifted musicians on-stage. He especially capitalized on quiet phrases, where his almost-transparent tone rang pure as a bell.

                Also on stage was a chamber orchestra of about forty members. The trumpet player delighted us with his contributions to “The Trumpet Shall Sound.” We also enjoyed an expert harpsichordist, and the famously good acoustics of the hall enabled us to hear him, even in the background. As the performance proceeded, Caitlin asked whether I would stand for the “Halleluiah Chorus” as is customary. For some reason, the kids felt I might be the only one to stand and thus be an embarrassment to them. “Of course,” I replied. When it came time for #44, the conductor motioned for the chorus to stand. Then he turned to the audience, smiled, and motioned for us to stand … and sing! So it was to be a sing-along after all – a little bit. While we stood, the harpsichordist left his instrument, climbed up between the chorus seats, and took his seat at the gorgeous organ. Wow, what a sound that organ put out! It sounded like a brass band with more tubas than trumpets. What a pleasure it was to sing along with this majestic instrument.

                During intermission, and again after the performance, we spoke with two adults in the audience. They assumed that we were locals, and began speaking to us in Dutch. When they heard we were from California, they were incredulous. Surely all Californians are drug-crazed hippies. Well, yes, there are some of those too, I assured them. They complimented us on our kids’ good concert etiquette and on their apparent interest in the music. When we shared about our trip, they seemed astounded that we would spend months visiting Europe – a real Renaissance education! Indeed, we hope that all six of us will emerge from this trip as world citizens, with heightened awareness of and appreciation for European culture.  

                It was 10:30 when we left the hall, and the sky was just starting to grow dark. We drove home to the hostel, changed, and went to bed. What a wonderful day! Halleluiah!