26 january 2005
Tonight I learned to play lacrosse.
Natalie, Marie Carmen, Maria and I biked twenty minutes to the sports complex, where city teams can use public fields. All of these fields were uncharacteristically covered in snow, but no one seemed to mind. There were lots of soccer games going on with players of all ages. We were the only field playing lacrosse – half the field for the men’s team and half for us.
The men were considerably more numerous and more padded than we were – men’s lacrosse is a contact sport, and women’s lacrosse is not. Particularly the variety we were playing. The women’s team is brand new to Amsterdam; many Dutch have never heard of lacrosse. So we ran back and forth passing the ball, learning to catch and throw and scoop and… what would it be called? The lacrosse equivalent of dribbling.
It was a madly good time, crunching across the snowy field in the freezing cold, yelling encouragement in a mix of English and Spanish. Also I got to feel in shape for the first time in a while. Though I’ve been walking miles, I haven’t been doing anything very strenuous. And it didn’t hurt my fitness self-esteem to be surrounded by chain smokers. Slender and sporty as most of the team was, they were also sweaty and breathless. Not porn star sweaty and breathless. Emphysema sweaty and breathless.
Have I mentioned yet how everyone here smokes all the time? Before, during and after drinks, coffee, and meals. While watching TV. While walking. While biking. While talking on one’s cell phone. I don’t know if it’s all the Dutch – perhaps it’s more just the student population, both foreign and domestic.
Now, I’ve always been something of an enthusiastic second-hand smoker. I enjoy cigarette smoke, and I seek out smoky bars and smoky curbside gatherings. But the smoking here is a little out of control for me. Sometimes after an evening of dinner and drinks I realize that I have not had one single breath of clear air in four hours. And I don’t think smoke enhances the taste of a meal. Even a Dutch meal.
Alas, it’s just part of the atmosphere. So I grin and bear it and breathe through my nose. The up side is that with all the ambient smoke, I hardly crave a cigarette of my own. And meanwhile I’m right at the front of the lacrosse team when we do laps.
Natalie, Marie Carmen, Maria and I biked twenty minutes to the sports complex, where city teams can use public fields. All of these fields were uncharacteristically covered in snow, but no one seemed to mind. There were lots of soccer games going on with players of all ages. We were the only field playing lacrosse – half the field for the men’s team and half for us.
The men were considerably more numerous and more padded than we were – men’s lacrosse is a contact sport, and women’s lacrosse is not. Particularly the variety we were playing. The women’s team is brand new to Amsterdam; many Dutch have never heard of lacrosse. So we ran back and forth passing the ball, learning to catch and throw and scoop and… what would it be called? The lacrosse equivalent of dribbling.
It was a madly good time, crunching across the snowy field in the freezing cold, yelling encouragement in a mix of English and Spanish. Also I got to feel in shape for the first time in a while. Though I’ve been walking miles, I haven’t been doing anything very strenuous. And it didn’t hurt my fitness self-esteem to be surrounded by chain smokers. Slender and sporty as most of the team was, they were also sweaty and breathless. Not porn star sweaty and breathless. Emphysema sweaty and breathless.
Have I mentioned yet how everyone here smokes all the time? Before, during and after drinks, coffee, and meals. While watching TV. While walking. While biking. While talking on one’s cell phone. I don’t know if it’s all the Dutch – perhaps it’s more just the student population, both foreign and domestic.
Now, I’ve always been something of an enthusiastic second-hand smoker. I enjoy cigarette smoke, and I seek out smoky bars and smoky curbside gatherings. But the smoking here is a little out of control for me. Sometimes after an evening of dinner and drinks I realize that I have not had one single breath of clear air in four hours. And I don’t think smoke enhances the taste of a meal. Even a Dutch meal.
Alas, it’s just part of the atmosphere. So I grin and bear it and breathe through my nose. The up side is that with all the ambient smoke, I hardly crave a cigarette of my own. And meanwhile I’m right at the front of the lacrosse team when we do laps.
posted by tortaluga at 4:24 AM
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