This story can only be told in CosmoPosse style, -grandiose and with many TMI details.
Wednesday night was national elections day in The Nether-lands. If you wonder why you hadn't heard me mention it before, it's because I have been oblivious to the political situation down here up untill my arrival two weeks ago. I have been an outsider, feeling like an observer for some foreign news paper. It's been a treat to witness the situation. Compared to the elections four years ago, everyone is way more involved as a result of all the post-political-assasination-discussions.
Wednesday night was national elections day in The Nether-lands. If you wonder why you hadn't heard me mention it before, it's because I have been oblivious to the political situation down here up untill my arrival two weeks ago. I have been an outsider, feeling like an observer for some foreign news paper. It's been a treat to witness the situation. Compared to the elections four years ago, everyone is way more involved as a result of all the post-political-assasination-discussions.
Wednesday night, after I had barely managed to cast my vote (my main point there was that I wanted to vote for a woman), I was preparing to go out for some partying with Eveline, my friend who was in Geneva last summer. Bravely, I ignored criticisms of being disitnerested, uneducated, revolutionary, addressed at me by commited Dutchmen for having no intention of watching election night on television.
To put it in Carry Bradshaw fasion... I couldn't help but wonder, is it so evil to elect partying over politics?
Some major detours through Amsterdam ensued, finally resulting in a place that seemed to have a steamy party going on. As soon as we realised we had located the headquarters of one of the main political parties, we hesitated not and marched on to crash that drink. Regretfully, we took a wrong turn, were quickly identified as individuals without an invitation and thrown onto the street once more.
This outcome was not to be accepted. We took our sweet time to confiscate some cheap drinks as we crashed a first year tennis club drink in a bar closeby. We checked out another bar and picked up two local Americans doing their one-day tour of Amsterdam. As soon as they started talking about their homes in North Carolina, Eveline enquired if they were interested in going to a communist party?
This is the point were I should tell you that the headquarters we had located belonged to the Socialist Party (SP) in The Netherlands. There name is misleading, because there is also a more centrist socialist party, while the SP is much more leftist (although nowhere near communist), and based on protest. Their symbol is a tomato, that pretty much sums it up.
Our new friends were interested in going to a communist party, so that we regrouped in front of our target. Wiser now, and more experienced, we launched our attack from a different angle. The doorman asked for our invitations, we said we had left them inside half an hour ago because we had gone to get some weed and the other doorman had said that was fine. He asked what the other doorman looked like, we said we couldn't remember. I don't think he really believed us but somehow he let us through.
Hurrah! We dumped the Americans and made our way to the podium as fast as we could to show those people what dancing is all about. You should imagine, everyone in that entire room was dressed in red, we were wearing our black clubbing outfit. People ranged from our age to much older. They also looked serious, they looked like they believed in something, they looked like they had supported their party for years. We felt like capitalists.
Still, our dancing rocked, people looked happy to see us. We requested some attributes with red tomatoes on them and made some new friends. By the time the party was officially ending around two o'clock, our new friends proposed that we should crash another political party's party. We encouraged this plan enthusiastically. I thought it was a marvelous double-infiltration scheme.
Somehow we ended up going home instead, to finally find out why the party had rocked so much: the Socialist Party had gone from 9 to 26 parliamentary seats. I got slightly nauseous for about half a second coz I really find some of their points too extreme. Still, I think it beats watching parties on television. In four years, maybe I'll crash a celebration of the party I actually voted for.
Some major detours through Amsterdam ensued, finally resulting in a place that seemed to have a steamy party going on. As soon as we realised we had located the headquarters of one of the main political parties, we hesitated not and marched on to crash that drink. Regretfully, we took a wrong turn, were quickly identified as individuals without an invitation and thrown onto the street once more.
This outcome was not to be accepted. We took our sweet time to confiscate some cheap drinks as we crashed a first year tennis club drink in a bar closeby. We checked out another bar and picked up two local Americans doing their one-day tour of Amsterdam. As soon as they started talking about their homes in North Carolina, Eveline enquired if they were interested in going to a communist party?
This is the point were I should tell you that the headquarters we had located belonged to the Socialist Party (SP) in The Netherlands. There name is misleading, because there is also a more centrist socialist party, while the SP is much more leftist (although nowhere near communist), and based on protest. Their symbol is a tomato, that pretty much sums it up.
Our new friends were interested in going to a communist party, so that we regrouped in front of our target. Wiser now, and more experienced, we launched our attack from a different angle. The doorman asked for our invitations, we said we had left them inside half an hour ago because we had gone to get some weed and the other doorman had said that was fine. He asked what the other doorman looked like, we said we couldn't remember. I don't think he really believed us but somehow he let us through.
Hurrah! We dumped the Americans and made our way to the podium as fast as we could to show those people what dancing is all about. You should imagine, everyone in that entire room was dressed in red, we were wearing our black clubbing outfit. People ranged from our age to much older. They also looked serious, they looked like they believed in something, they looked like they had supported their party for years. We felt like capitalists.
Still, our dancing rocked, people looked happy to see us. We requested some attributes with red tomatoes on them and made some new friends. By the time the party was officially ending around two o'clock, our new friends proposed that we should crash another political party's party. We encouraged this plan enthusiastically. I thought it was a marvelous double-infiltration scheme.
Somehow we ended up going home instead, to finally find out why the party had rocked so much: the Socialist Party had gone from 9 to 26 parliamentary seats. I got slightly nauseous for about half a second coz I really find some of their points too extreme. Still, I think it beats watching parties on television. In four years, maybe I'll crash a celebration of the party I actually voted for.
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