STRIKE A POSE

Madonna has nothing on the men and women who ‘vogue’ powerfully on the tables and chairs of Gula Gula every Friday and Saturday night. For those of you who do not have a Madonna worshipping mother to buy you Madonna’s Greatest Hits for your 10^th birthday, ‘voguing’ is the dance form that was made popular in the 80’s by Madonna’s chart topping music video, Vogue. The song, whose lyrics include, strike a pose, accuratly describes the dance techniche. Voguing is characterized by model like poses and sharp, angular body movements and positions. While voguing is historically associated with African Americans and homosexuals one must be neither black nor homosexual to marvel at the dance form and identify with its purpose for expression. At Gula Gula I laughed out loud and stared in awe as corpselike white figures sauntered through the restaurant and buff belly dancers bent themselves in half just 3 feet away from my table. Gula Gula did more than amuse me. It opened my eyes to the vast opportunities for entertainment one can find in a culturally rich city like Madrid.

     On Saturday night men wore gowns and painted their cheeks. Bedazzled performers enchanted an audience of male, female, strait, gay, Caucasian, Spanish and African Americans alike. In a world that’s so conflicted it pleases me to be fascinated by strangers, sitting beside other foreigners, by something as pure and simple as dancing.

GULA GULA

Cold Feet & Sweet Treats

     It’s truly difficult to put the Red Light district into words. The adventure began with my roommate Shelby and a 4:00 am cab ride to Madrid-Barajas Airport. Surprisingly not tired and two and a half hours early, which I now understand as pointless when flying throughout Europe, I had ample time to scan my surroundings. The most interesting individuals fly in the wee hours of the morning. Grown men lay sprawled out on the airport floor while sleepy sisters lazily shared one seat and an iPod bopping endlessly to its shuffle. After two long hours of bopping snoring Shelby and I boarded Jet Air and soured away to the Netherlands.

Step 1: find our hostel. Finding hostel Croydon involved my first encounter with the public transportation I would continue to battle bravely during my tour de Amsterdam. Trams, trains and cars do not seem intimidating or strange to see in any city setting. However, such common forms of transportation become an unbelievable obstacle when they speed through the city’s streets, all uniformly lined by bike lanes. Separate passageways are necessary to accommodate Amsterdam’s overwhelming population of bike riders. “Bike rider” seems an unsuitable title for Dutch cyclists. Because I was practically pummeled by several riders I now deem every aggressive Amsterdonian an ultimate contender for the Netherlands Olympic cycling team. 

     Transportation became easier once Shelby mastered her map of the area and I stopped marveling at the incredible architecture, twisting canals and dreamy Dutch boys while crossing the street. The Dutch are not only beautiful blond dreamboats, but some of the most helpful people I have met thus far in Europe. Directions, prices and tourist type advice are much easier to request in countries like Amsterdam where most people speak English and I can ask questions without making my prime focus verb conjugation.

     During my visit to Amsterdam I toured the city by boat, wandered Ann Frank’s house and the museum below it before being brewed into a Heineken beer at Netherland’s original “Heineken experience.” During the remainder of time spent in the Dam Shelby and I preached brand loyalty and requested solely Heineken beer from any suitor offering to buy drinks. My list of activities cannot be complete without mentioning the incredible food I enjoyed in the classy cafes that decorated the city. While gourmet pancakes, Tai takeout, and fire hot fajitas were an incredible treat nothing quite topped the sweet and cheap strawberry waffle pastries I scoffed twice, daily from the crimson corner vendors that litter the Red Light District with flavor.

     While cold, complicated and confusing Amsterdam was an incredible city and I will forget nothing about this trip. From my filthy hostel, whose steps were ladder-like and semi-impossible to climb, to club Noel, where Shelby and I stood as Smurfs beside Amazonian like Dutch natives, Amsterdam made its mark on my master list of extraordinary adventures to be had abroad.