Day 354 –Haarlem, Netherlands (by Caitlin)
Posted by Caitlin Taylor on Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Events of Tuesday, June 14, 2011
This is our first stay in a youth hostel, and I am very much enjoying a break from what has become the routine of staying in rental homes. This morning, we enjoyed our second all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet, with a bit more experience under our belts. Afterwards, we readied ourselves for the day and then caught the Number Two bus at the bus stop across the street. We rode the bus to the Haarlem Central Train Station. From there, we walked to Corrie Ten Boom’s house. Taking note of the time of the next English tour, we continued walking towards Grote Markt, planning to return to Corrie Ten Boom’s house a few minutes before the next English tour.
We walked through Grote Markt, Haarlem’s main market square and therefore the center of town, to another town square known as Verwulft, where we found the Tourist Information office, here called VVV. A very helpful Dutch lady gave us a nice town map and a few self-guided walking tour brochures to fill our afternoon.
Bidding her “Tot ziens” (“goodbye” in Dutch), we walked back to Corrie Ten Boom’s house, just in time for the next tour. A well-dressed white-haired lady greeted us at the door and led us upstairs, where we sat in a circle of chairs and listened as she told us the story of Corrie Ten Boom and her family. Corrie’s grandfather met a Messianic Jew who convinced him that the people of Jerusalem, the Jews, needed prayer. So he began a weekly pray group meeting for peace – for both the Jews and the Christians – in the very room where we were sitting.
Corrie Ten Boom learned this loving attitude towards God’s chosen people, the Israelites, from her father and grandfather. So when World War II broke out, she joined the Underground, a secret organization whose purpose was to protect Haarlem’s Jews from the Gestapo, the German Secret Service policemen. In those days, the Dutch who could hide Jews did so in their basement and in their attic. These soon became the first places that the Nazis searched. The Ten Booms decided instead to construct a secret room as a hiding place for Jews. Corrie herself sacrificed a slice of her tiny bedroom to hide the six Jews who needed a hiding place at the time. The household scheduled drills to practice getting the Jews into hiding as quickly as possible when any sign of danger came. Still, however, the Ten Boom’s hiding of Jews was discovered and betrayed, on the 100th anniversary of the beginning of their prayer group. The SS men arrested everyone they could find in the house, which was more than normal because of the prayer meeting taking place. They did not, however, find the Jews, who had escaped to the hiding place just in time.
All of Corrie’s family was imprisoned, but some were released soon after their arrest. However, her father, Casper Ten Boom, died in the prison hospital. Corrie herself and her sister Betsie were transferred to work camps and concentration camps, where they ministered to their fellow prisoners. Betsie died in Ravensbrück, and, about a month later, Corrie walked out of the prison camp, free, because of a mistake, a clerical error. However, our tour guide assured us, it was no mistake; it was all a part of God’s great plan for Corrie Ten Boom.
When she was liberated and the war was over, Corrie began to write about her experiences, to travel and give talks and spread the good news of the gospel far and wide. She also fulfilled a dream that Betsie had while in prison, of two homes for people with hate in their hearts, one in the Netherlands for the Dutch who had suffered and been imprisoned and another one in Germany for those who had imprisoned others. With the help of God, she even forgave a man who had worked for the Nazis, but had become a Christian after the war.
While we learned about Corrie’s inspiring story, we browsed many pictures and other related artifacts. We climbed through a more recently added hole through the brick wall into the hiding place, and Lindsey and Abby crawled out of the very hole that those six Jews had emerged from when they were given the all-clear signal. We ended our visit in the gift shop, where we purchased a copy of the book, “More Than a Hiding Place”, compiled by the house’s staff.
Next, we walked back the way we had come, to the Grote Markt again, this time pausing in the square to sample some herring from a food stand. This local delicacy looks like raw fish, but it is somehow salted or pickled before consuming. There are two specific ways of eating this specialty: Rotterdam-style and Amsterdam-style. Amsterdam-style is bite-size chunks of fish eaten with a toothpick, while Rotterdam-style is the entire fish, eaten by holding it above one’s mouth with one’s head thrown back. We chose Amsterdam-style, because it would be easier to share among us. Everyone tried a bit, except for me. Mom’s grossed-out reaction to the slimy, slithering texture of the bite of herring on her tongue and slithering down her throat had us all doubling over in laughter. Ben and Daddy, however, found the fish delicious, while Lindsey and Abby felt so-so about it.
Walking on further, we stopped at a cheese shop, and Mom and Dad bought us the local specialty of Dutch goat cheese. Next stop was a grocery store, where we purchased food for lunch and six cones of soft-serve ice cream. As we licked our already-melting ice cream, we returned to the Grote Markt and had a lovely picnic lunch in the shade of an abstract metal statue.
After lunch, Mom led us on a walking tour of Haarlem’s hidden green oases. This walk took us on a treasure hunt to discover the concealed retreats in the city. Behind heavy doors and concealed entrances, we found the almshouse communities of Haarlem (Haarlemse hofjes) serving as a reminder of the past. Wealthy citizens established these Dutch almshouses, now quaint retirement communities, as sheltered accommodation for elderly women in need. The almshouses were, and still are, accommodated in small houses arranged around an inner courtyard garden. Most of them, still housing elderly women, are open to the public on weekdays. So we hopped from garden to garden, following the brochure’s good street directions into the almshouse communities of Haarlem. These hidden treasure troves all had a few things in common: entry through a gateway from the street, multitudes of colorful flowers, and fat cats lazing around in the warm sunshine. All the almshouses we visited were such quaint little houses with very pretty gardens. One even had Dutch doors – how appropriately quaint!
However, it was a long and laborious tour. Supposedly lasting an hour and half, our tour took over two hours! When the tour finally brought us back to the Grote Markt, we sat down, exhausted, under our preferred abstract metal statue to rest. Mom read to us from the other self-guided walking tour, the one about Haarlem’s monuments. It turns out we had seen many of these sights during the other tour. We imagined ourselves walking from place to place, and unanimously agreed that the tour was much more fun to take sitting down.
After a much-needed rest, we walked to the DekaMarkt for dinner supplies. This dinner was definitely a strange one! Among our purchases were cherries, grill worst (big, fat grilled sausages -- hot from the deli), a box of frozen peas, a carton of milk, and a loaf of French baguette bread, with a box of powdered donuts, a bar of chocolate, and a loaf of sweetbread for dessert. We headed back to Grote Markt, this time choosing to sit on the steps of the City Hall for a change of scenery during dinner. With water from one of our own water bottles, we washed the cherries, ate the frozen peas right out of the box like popcorn, and drank the milk straight from the carton. As I said, a very interesting meal.
Once we had completed our dinner, we realized that we had a lot of time left over before the free organ concert at the Grote Kerk in Grote Markt at 8:15 pm. So we strolled through the streets, window-shopping on our way to the nearest library. Upon arrival, a friendly librarian directed Dad to the two English newspapers in the place and the rest of us upstairs to the computers with free internet access! However, though there were at least a dozen computers, most of them were in use. Mom eagerly claimed the only one available, and we kids were left skimming anatomy textbooks and the like – in Dutch. Eventually, however, several more people left, and all of us, except Dad, had a chance to reconnect to family and friends via the internet.
As the beginning of our must-see organ recital drew nigh, we left the library and walked back along the streets of Haarlem to the Grote Kerk. This fifteenth-century Gothic church is also known as St. Bavokerk (kerk meaning church). It is sometimes called ‘Jan met de hoge schouders’ (Jan with the tall shoulders), because the steeple is tiny in comparison to the rest of the church. Inside is the tombstone of Frans Hals, a famous poet from Haarlem, as well as the famous Christian Müller organ, the largest organ in the world. At one hundred feet high, it takes up the entire west end of the church, seemingly stealing the show from the high altar at the opposite end of the church. According to city lore, Mozart played this organ as a boy of 10. Today, it is still considered Holland’s greatest pipe organ. Naturally, we did not want to miss the chance to attend one of the church’s free pipe organ concerts. Sitting down in the third row back, we gawked at this incredible Oz-like organ with its five thousand pipes. After a bilingual introduction in which the Dutch was long-winded and the English brief, we sat back to enjoy about an hour of absolutely amazing organ music performed by Jos van der Kooy before taking the bus back to the hostel and going to bed.
This is our first stay in a youth hostel, and I am very much enjoying a break from what has become the routine of staying in rental homes. This morning, we enjoyed our second all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet, with a bit more experience under our belts. Afterwards, we readied ourselves for the day and then caught the Number Two bus at the bus stop across the street. We rode the bus to the Haarlem Central Train Station. From there, we walked to Corrie Ten Boom’s house. Taking note of the time of the next English tour, we continued walking towards Grote Markt, planning to return to Corrie Ten Boom’s house a few minutes before the next English tour.
We walked through Grote Markt, Haarlem’s main market square and therefore the center of town, to another town square known as Verwulft, where we found the Tourist Information office, here called VVV. A very helpful Dutch lady gave us a nice town map and a few self-guided walking tour brochures to fill our afternoon.
Bidding her “Tot ziens” (“goodbye” in Dutch), we walked back to Corrie Ten Boom’s house, just in time for the next tour. A well-dressed white-haired lady greeted us at the door and led us upstairs, where we sat in a circle of chairs and listened as she told us the story of Corrie Ten Boom and her family. Corrie’s grandfather met a Messianic Jew who convinced him that the people of Jerusalem, the Jews, needed prayer. So he began a weekly pray group meeting for peace – for both the Jews and the Christians – in the very room where we were sitting.
Corrie Ten Boom learned this loving attitude towards God’s chosen people, the Israelites, from her father and grandfather. So when World War II broke out, she joined the Underground, a secret organization whose purpose was to protect Haarlem’s Jews from the Gestapo, the German Secret Service policemen. In those days, the Dutch who could hide Jews did so in their basement and in their attic. These soon became the first places that the Nazis searched. The Ten Booms decided instead to construct a secret room as a hiding place for Jews. Corrie herself sacrificed a slice of her tiny bedroom to hide the six Jews who needed a hiding place at the time. The household scheduled drills to practice getting the Jews into hiding as quickly as possible when any sign of danger came. Still, however, the Ten Boom’s hiding of Jews was discovered and betrayed, on the 100th anniversary of the beginning of their prayer group. The SS men arrested everyone they could find in the house, which was more than normal because of the prayer meeting taking place. They did not, however, find the Jews, who had escaped to the hiding place just in time.
All of Corrie’s family was imprisoned, but some were released soon after their arrest. However, her father, Casper Ten Boom, died in the prison hospital. Corrie herself and her sister Betsie were transferred to work camps and concentration camps, where they ministered to their fellow prisoners. Betsie died in Ravensbrück, and, about a month later, Corrie walked out of the prison camp, free, because of a mistake, a clerical error. However, our tour guide assured us, it was no mistake; it was all a part of God’s great plan for Corrie Ten Boom.
When she was liberated and the war was over, Corrie began to write about her experiences, to travel and give talks and spread the good news of the gospel far and wide. She also fulfilled a dream that Betsie had while in prison, of two homes for people with hate in their hearts, one in the Netherlands for the Dutch who had suffered and been imprisoned and another one in Germany for those who had imprisoned others. With the help of God, she even forgave a man who had worked for the Nazis, but had become a Christian after the war.
While we learned about Corrie’s inspiring story, we browsed many pictures and other related artifacts. We climbed through a more recently added hole through the brick wall into the hiding place, and Lindsey and Abby crawled out of the very hole that those six Jews had emerged from when they were given the all-clear signal. We ended our visit in the gift shop, where we purchased a copy of the book, “More Than a Hiding Place”, compiled by the house’s staff.
Next, we walked back the way we had come, to the Grote Markt again, this time pausing in the square to sample some herring from a food stand. This local delicacy looks like raw fish, but it is somehow salted or pickled before consuming. There are two specific ways of eating this specialty: Rotterdam-style and Amsterdam-style. Amsterdam-style is bite-size chunks of fish eaten with a toothpick, while Rotterdam-style is the entire fish, eaten by holding it above one’s mouth with one’s head thrown back. We chose Amsterdam-style, because it would be easier to share among us. Everyone tried a bit, except for me. Mom’s grossed-out reaction to the slimy, slithering texture of the bite of herring on her tongue and slithering down her throat had us all doubling over in laughter. Ben and Daddy, however, found the fish delicious, while Lindsey and Abby felt so-so about it.
Walking on further, we stopped at a cheese shop, and Mom and Dad bought us the local specialty of Dutch goat cheese. Next stop was a grocery store, where we purchased food for lunch and six cones of soft-serve ice cream. As we licked our already-melting ice cream, we returned to the Grote Markt and had a lovely picnic lunch in the shade of an abstract metal statue.
After lunch, Mom led us on a walking tour of Haarlem’s hidden green oases. This walk took us on a treasure hunt to discover the concealed retreats in the city. Behind heavy doors and concealed entrances, we found the almshouse communities of Haarlem (Haarlemse hofjes) serving as a reminder of the past. Wealthy citizens established these Dutch almshouses, now quaint retirement communities, as sheltered accommodation for elderly women in need. The almshouses were, and still are, accommodated in small houses arranged around an inner courtyard garden. Most of them, still housing elderly women, are open to the public on weekdays. So we hopped from garden to garden, following the brochure’s good street directions into the almshouse communities of Haarlem. These hidden treasure troves all had a few things in common: entry through a gateway from the street, multitudes of colorful flowers, and fat cats lazing around in the warm sunshine. All the almshouses we visited were such quaint little houses with very pretty gardens. One even had Dutch doors – how appropriately quaint!
However, it was a long and laborious tour. Supposedly lasting an hour and half, our tour took over two hours! When the tour finally brought us back to the Grote Markt, we sat down, exhausted, under our preferred abstract metal statue to rest. Mom read to us from the other self-guided walking tour, the one about Haarlem’s monuments. It turns out we had seen many of these sights during the other tour. We imagined ourselves walking from place to place, and unanimously agreed that the tour was much more fun to take sitting down.
After a much-needed rest, we walked to the DekaMarkt for dinner supplies. This dinner was definitely a strange one! Among our purchases were cherries, grill worst (big, fat grilled sausages -- hot from the deli), a box of frozen peas, a carton of milk, and a loaf of French baguette bread, with a box of powdered donuts, a bar of chocolate, and a loaf of sweetbread for dessert. We headed back to Grote Markt, this time choosing to sit on the steps of the City Hall for a change of scenery during dinner. With water from one of our own water bottles, we washed the cherries, ate the frozen peas right out of the box like popcorn, and drank the milk straight from the carton. As I said, a very interesting meal.
Once we had completed our dinner, we realized that we had a lot of time left over before the free organ concert at the Grote Kerk in Grote Markt at 8:15 pm. So we strolled through the streets, window-shopping on our way to the nearest library. Upon arrival, a friendly librarian directed Dad to the two English newspapers in the place and the rest of us upstairs to the computers with free internet access! However, though there were at least a dozen computers, most of them were in use. Mom eagerly claimed the only one available, and we kids were left skimming anatomy textbooks and the like – in Dutch. Eventually, however, several more people left, and all of us, except Dad, had a chance to reconnect to family and friends via the internet.
As the beginning of our must-see organ recital drew nigh, we left the library and walked back along the streets of Haarlem to the Grote Kerk. This fifteenth-century Gothic church is also known as St. Bavokerk (kerk meaning church). It is sometimes called ‘Jan met de hoge schouders’ (Jan with the tall shoulders), because the steeple is tiny in comparison to the rest of the church. Inside is the tombstone of Frans Hals, a famous poet from Haarlem, as well as the famous Christian Müller organ, the largest organ in the world. At one hundred feet high, it takes up the entire west end of the church, seemingly stealing the show from the high altar at the opposite end of the church. According to city lore, Mozart played this organ as a boy of 10. Today, it is still considered Holland’s greatest pipe organ. Naturally, we did not want to miss the chance to attend one of the church’s free pipe organ concerts. Sitting down in the third row back, we gawked at this incredible Oz-like organ with its five thousand pipes. After a bilingual introduction in which the Dutch was long-winded and the English brief, we sat back to enjoy about an hour of absolutely amazing organ music performed by Jos van der Kooy before taking the bus back to the hostel and going to bed.