Hello to everyone out there. I am sorry for the complete lack of communication over the last week. Colleen and I have dramatically slowed down our pace, and our computer issues seem to be getting worse. I will definitely have to send this laptop in for service when we get back.
We have spent the last few days in Amsterdam. The city is so many things to so many people. It is a city of contradictions � a city that cherishes law and order, yet allows technically illegal activities to go on in the open. It is a city with a rich history that is, in many minds across the world, overshadowed by its association with hash bars (they call them coffeehouses) and legalized prostitution. It is a beautiful city with a seedy underbelly that comes out at night. Different neighborhoods in Amsterdam feel like different cities altogether.
Throughout it all, though, everyone in the country speaks English. OK, maybe that�s an exaggeration, but certainly everyone in the city does. We are having absolutely no culture shock. American restaurants dot the cityscape, and American football is broadcast in bars. In fact, I was lucky to discover a place right near our hotel that is showing the Chargers game live � it starts at 10 pm tonight.
Without a doubt, the highlight of our visit so far has been the Anne Frank house. I remember reading Anne�s diary in school a long time ago and not really getting much out of it. A couple years ago, on a whim, I picked it up at a bookstore and tore through it, enjoying the richness of her thoughts and the daily descriptions of life in the Annex. As most of you know, Anne�s family was Jewish and had to go into hiding when the Germans took over Amsterdam. They hid in a very small apartment above and behind Otto Frank�s canalside warehouse.
Walking through the rooms was nothing like I had expected. The fixtures, doors, and so forth are relatively unchanged since the day the hiding place was discovered and the occupants sent into concentration camps. Though unfurnished, the apartments are small and crowded, which means they must have been really cramped during the years the Franks lived in there. As we were walking through the lower warehouse rooms, I could hear the creaking floorboards above my head, signs that other visitors were upstairs. But then I thought about the situation of the Franks� secrecy. They could not make any noise during the day, as the warehouse continued to run throughout the war. They feared someone would hear them and report them to the authorities.
After the hiding place was discovered, young Anne was sent to Auschwitz. Amsterdam was liberated by the Allies only weeks after her capture. Even more tragically, she died of tuberculosis within a month of the liberation of the concentration camp. Her father was the only member of the hidden group, which included four other people aside from the Frank family, and spent the next years searching the country for his wife and daughters. And then he learned of their fate. The diary Anne kept is the only legacy from this desperate attempt to stay alive despite the greatest obstacles. The house stands as yet another reminder of what we are all capable of � both good and bad.
Anyway, the rest of our time has been spent exploring this fascinating city. Colleen is doing well, although she has less stamina than she did only a couple weeks ago. The baby continues to grow, and the punches and kicks of our little daughter are clearly visible now. Its just amazing to watch Colleen�s stomach lurch up.
We only have a few more days left on our trip. We leave tomorrow morning for Paris, where we will stay until our return to the States Friday afternoon. We hope all of you are doing well, and we can�t wait to catch up when we get back.
Take care,
Paul and Colleen
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