After Dresden and Prague I took a train back to Amsterdam to spend some time with Marije and kill some time before Queens Day. Never heard of Queens Day? Me neither, but apparently it's a day where the citizens of Holland celebrate their Queen by dressing up in orange clothes and drinking copious amounts of alcohol, kind of like the Super Bowl but without the game and with orange clothes. Ok so it's not like the Super Bowl at all but I can think of few other dates in the States where it's appropriate to be drunk at 9:30 in the morning. Of course I wasn't one of those people but as I made my way through the Red Light district trying to navigate around many many people, having a few drinks started looking like a very good idea. So I did. The whole event was surreal, orange wig wearing Netherlanders on boats, holding spontaneous dance parties in the streets and beer tents every 10 meters. Every other person I talked to was from out of the country, another testament to the pull of the legendary coffee shops. One of the best things about Queens Day was the constant music. There were stages set up everywhere with DJ's spinning non-stop. I managed to catch a little of DJ Tiesto's set at Museum Plein but it was so incredibly crowded it was impossible to move so I left after only a little while. I ended up getting lost on the way back to the apartment but it let me see all the little road markets that make Queens Day a time to shop for um, antique candle holders and old Abba records. Wooooo Abba. But seriously, if you're in Europe around Queens Day get over to Amsterdam for a wild time.

The following day (not hung over at all) I jumped on a train to Paris, in an attempt to get some culture and end up broke and destitute. Cause that's what Paris will do to you, give you culture in spades and then take all your money, kind of like a mugging. Oh I'm not exaggerating. Have you ever paid $6.80 for a cappuccino? I felt violated. But enough about the costs, Paris is amazing. The first day I went to the George Pompidou building in part because we had a George Pompidou building in Vanuatu. But the one in Vanuatu doesn't really do anything while the one in Paris houses a number of art exhibits, including one on Samuel Beckett which I was this close to seeing. But as I was on limited time I opted to see the permanent Modern Art exhibit as well. I thought "Hey, I haven't been to a modern art exhibit in years". After 5 minutes inside the museum I remembered why I hadn't been to one in so long: it SUCKS! Yeah ok, sure some of it is interesting and in some circles passes for art but the rest, I'm sorry to say, is pretentious bullshit. Maybe I'm not hip enough to appreciate a sculpture of a stag having his way with a woman, or a canvas painted navy blue, or a tree composed solely of red-painted woolen gloves. I'm sure a paper mache monster covered in garbage would look great in the east wing of someone's McMansion but I don't know if it's really art. Maybe I'm too much of a square to "get it" or something olsem. But of all the thousands of exhibits only the ones by Phillipe Stark really earned my respect. Sure he may have sold his soul to Microsoft but his stuff is good.

Outside the George Pompidou there's a large pool with other modern and post-modern sculptures. I saw a collection of brightly colored ones near the back and though I saw a familiar face in Stravinsky Fountain. Holy hell, it was the Sun God! Straight out of UCSD! Ok maybe it's not really the Sun God but damn if it doesn't look almost exactly the same. Could it be that two different people made big Mexican birds on either side of the world at similar times? Nope, it turns out the sculptor of the Sun God, Niki de Saint Phalle, has exhibits in Stravinsky Fountain as well as UCSD. So either this or the Sun God is recycled work. Whatever, it's modern art. Of course I came to Paris for classical art. Luckily I had plans to meet up with Katie, a Vanuatu RPCV and explore Nortre Dame and the Louvre with her.

But before Nortre Dame I paid a visit to the Picasso Museum to see what they were showing, hoping that I would get to see Guernica, Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, or even Gertrude Stein. But noooooo none of them can be in the Paris museum! All I got stuck with were a bunch of mixed media mosaics, a horribly ugly iron statue and some self portraits. I was about to write off the museum altogether (like the George Pompidou) but at the very end something caught my eye. It was in one of the exhibits that showed off some of Picasso's private ancient art collection that inspired cubism. And what was there but a truly amazing kastam sculpture from South Malekula, Vanuatu. I stared agape, and actually asked out loud "What are you doing here?" drawing a look from the security guard. I couldn't believe it, Picasso of all people knew about Vanuatu back when it was New Hebrides. Awesome, suddenly it was all worth it. The craziest part is that I've seen a fair amount of the sculptures coming out of Malekula (even bought some) and have never come across something like this. It's not a death mask because it's too big and is hollow inside. I showed the picture to Katie and she too had never seen something like it. Atink hemi wan kastam samting be kastam i finis finis? Tawi, traen telem smol long samting ia!


I met Katie at the front of Nortre Dame and after exchanging pleasantries we went inside, and saw what is claimed to be the true Crown of Thorns. We looked and looked at the display but didn't see any crown. But there were plenty of other treasures to see, like old clothes. Inside Nortre Dame was quite pretty, but not as spectacular as I expected. Maybe it's because I've seen so many amazing churches including St. Peter's Basilica in Rome but I found the exterior of the Cathedral more interesting than the interior. I mean just look at the exterior, buttresses, gargoyles, a Rose window, it's all so Gothic. Luckily there weren't any Goths around the Cathedral.

The Louvre Museum in crazy, inspiring and totally BSI. And it's HUGE! No, no you don't understand. It has over 35,000 exhibits, 4 floors and houses some of the most important art works in history: the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory of Samothrace, Hermaphroditos Asleep, and other works that you never really bothered with in High School. And that's just a sample of the important art works, saying nothing of the Islamic pieces, Spanish, Dutch and other Italian works. The museum is intense, I found myself overwhelmed at times just trying to imagine the scope of the pieces it held. It was so much I went twice. At one point I started trying to imagine the net worth of the exhibits and then how much they were insured for, but I stopped before my head exploded.

I also found a sculpture that really touched me in a place few sculptures can. It's a statue of Minerva from the private d'Orsay collection. I fell in love with her poise and the organic folds of her cloak which looks to be made out of agate. She has a serene yet focused look of contemplation, confident stance and holds her (strangely cute) owl of wisdom. I don't know how long I looked at her, from all sides noticing the broken finger on her right hand. If the ancient Romans did anything right it's their art, even if they did steal if from the Greeks. To me this statue is archetypal and nearly everything I love in classical sculpture.

I have no idea what this statue is. It was in the Greek and Roman sculpture area but the bucket and copper don't seem that old. I personally think it's a woman getting spaghetti dumped on her head. Marije thinks it's a spaghetti, meat balls and petanque balls. I'm willing to meet halfway and call it an ancient documentation of the flying spaghetti monster playing petanque.







That night Katie and I had dinner at a local cafe after getting caught in the rain. Over a bottle of wine and a confusing food order, we caught up on everything: adjusting to western life, health issues, food, Europe, old gossip, new gossip, intimidating supermarkets, relationships, and the long arduous (sometimes intimidating) process of readjustment. Oh did we talk about readjustment. Basically it boils down to that it's impossible for other non-RPCV's to understand what we're going through, which is why it's so important for us Vanuatu people to hang out. It's not that other people don't want to understand, but after 3 years of adjusting to life overseas it will be a long time before I'm really "normal" again, not that I want to be normal anyway. But there are still things I have to get used to . . . like not eating food off of someone else's plate. When I finally get back to the States (May 28th) I'll have to start seriously thinking about going to school again, starting a career and developing some real life goals. Or maybe I'll go back to Vanuatu and husk coconuts for a while, at least there they don't have to worry about Roth IRA's.