Tomorrow is my first opportunity to participate in Dutch democracy.  I'm not sure if it's because I've now been officially registered in the country for a certain number of years now, or if it's because I'm now a property owner, or what -- but I'm going to vote for the municipal elections tomorrow.

The only prolem is that I haven't figured out exactly how I'm going to vote.

I've tried a couple of the different on-line "stemwijzer" (voting test) sites, plus I've read a number of the printed materials put out by the government and by the parties themselves.  But all this has done is help me to decide how not to use my vote.  That is, I'm pretty sure that I will not be casting my vote for the CDA, who has chosen to make the main thrust of their Amsterdam campaign a "Big Brother" like camera system to capture any wrong-doing that might happen throughout the city... And I can't really see myself voting for the Party of the Animals (making animal rights the primary issue) or the nationalistic PVV (a sort of anti-immigration party, like the 21st Century Dutch version of the 19th Centry American "Know Nothing" party)... But who should I vote for?

I'd be very open, if anyone had any advice they wanted to pass along to me.

For me, I'm voting primarily as (1) a follower of Jesus, (2) an immigrant, and (3) someone who naturally tends to prefer a less invasive form of government (i.e. someone who could tell the leerplichtambtenaar to relax a little bit).  But are there really any parties who tend to combine these issues?  Open to religious freedom, and even cooperation between the church and the government... But also more liberal in its views on immigration and immigrants' rights... While still entrusting power to the people, more than to the bureaucracy???  Do these terms ring any bells, for those of you who might be more familiar with the Dutch political system?

I've got some ideas for how I might use my vote, if all else fails.  I'm not going into things totally ignorant.  But if there are any last-minute pieces of advice that could be thrown my way, I would certainly appreciate it.

As a general rule, young Amsterdammers are independent thinkers, fiercely committed to fair trade, generally ideologically opposed to "globalization," and by most all accounts quite liberal.  Yes, I'm trucking in stereotypes a bit here -- but I think most would agree that Dutch young people are generally the type of people who would show up wherever the G8 Summit might be taking place and protest the "Evil Capitalist Elite."  You know the type that I'm talking about, don't you?  They are politically active, they think green, and they are almost categorically against any sense of "The Man."

So I think it's ironic -- and a little bit funny -- that young Amsterdammers also seem to be crazy about Starbucks.

I find it ironic because Starbucks seems to epitomize globalization (with hundreds of franchise locations around the world -- and an almost inescapable corporate presence in so many cities)... they seem to serve as something of a poster child for American Capitalism (with large amounts of liquid being sold at hefty prices)... and -- while they do seem to be more committed to social responsibility and ethical business practices than many other world-wide businesses -- everyone still knows (deep down, though they don't always like to admit it) that Starbucks is the personification of the "evil mega-corporation" that could very well serve as the front for Dr. Evil's quest for world domination.

I don't know why it's taken Starbucks this long to make any significant inroads within the Netherlands (rumors abound on this subject) -- but a couple of years ago, a Starbucks appeared on the inside ("for passengers only") part of Schiphol Airport.  A year later, a Starbucks popped up outside of the gated area, where anyone could access the establishment (presumably while picking someone up or dropping someone off).  And now, within the last couple of months, Starbucks seems to have struck a deal with the Dutch National Railroad, putting Starbucks stores within several of the main train stations throughout the country (including Amsterdam Centraal Station).  And now, there are long lines of young Amsterdammers lining up to spend their €6 for a small cup of espresso-based beverage... while still holding fiercely to their anti-global, anti-corporate, anti-American sentiments.

Doesn't this seem ironic and incongruent to anyone else?

I don't understand it.  I don't condemn any position on the spectrum, given that I, too, don't want to have anything to do with promoting slavery or injustice in the developing world -- but I do enjoy a good Caramel Macchiato whenever I can get one. :-)  But I am fascinated by the apparent contradiction and subtle hypocrisy that creeps into the picture in situations like this.  How does Starbucks do it?  I think they have to be geniuses!  They trade with the best of the mega-corporations on Wall Street, but they simultaneously find friends among the protesters and progressives in the Pacific Northwest and beyond.  How do they do it?  They're geniuses, I'm telling you.  Either that, or we're all dupes...

Yesterday we joined the throngs of feest-beesten (party animals) along the grachtengordel of Amsterdam.  After a full morning and afternoon of roaming around the city with our friends, we said our final farewells to the Watkins family, gave our last hugs, and then rode off to the East waving our last waves over our shoulders.  We biked slowly along the Herengracht, picking our way through solid streams of party-goers on the Raadhuisstraat, the Leidsestraat/Koningsplein, the Vijzelstraat, the Thorbeckeplein, the Utrechtsestraat, along the Amstel, over the Magere Brug, and finally through to home.  The whole way, people were partying, orange-uninhibited, dancing with arms in the air, bumping, grinding, laughing, singing, yelling, and drinking (lots of drinking).  I've never experienced anything quite like it -- trying to push a bakfiets full of three children through all of that.  I think most of the orange masses felt happy -- exhuberant, even -- but to be honest, I felt mostly anxious and afraid.  It felt like just about anything could happen, turning "fun party" into "frantic, frenzied free-for-all."  Probably just the over-anxious projections of a protective papa...

But little did we all know the tragedy that was unfolding in our little country -- not so many kilometers off to the East, in Appeldoorn.  We had heard rumors of it earlier in the afternoon:  news about some accident or attempted bombing of the royal family.  We had even checked the mobile internet accounts (with what spotty access we had on the over-crowded cellular networks of the city), but we could gain little information outside of some story of an out-of-control automobile accident close to the scene of the royal convoy in which a dozen or so people had been injured.  It didn't make much of a dent in our -- or any of Amsterdam's -- Koninginnedag celebrations.  Later that evening, even, I had checked internet news reports and remarked to Marci how odd it was that entire cities (even large, geographicall-removed cities, like Rotterdam) were cutting their Koninginnedag festivities short because of the automobile incident in Appeldoorn.

But it was only this morning -- upon waking up to another beautiful spring day in Amsterdam -- that we really started to grasp what had taken place in our country yesterday, while Amsterdam partied.  Sitting in the Coffee Company here in our neighborhood, I read the newspaper accounts and saw the pictures for myself.  I saw my neighbors similarly absorbed by the newspapers, as they sipped their morning coffees and worked off their hang-overs from yesterday.  I saw it all starting to dawn on us.  The pictures and maps graphing out the whole chain of events seemd to communicate the most:  one picture showing a smashed black Suzuki hatchback cruising through the middle of a blockaded parade route, with human bodies scattered in mid-air yet evidently traveling so fast that none of the bystanders' faces had yet registered a reaction, not even the royal guard who was standing with his face in profile probably only a couple of meters from the carnage directly in front of him... another picture showing crown-prince Willem-Alexander and his wife, Princess Maxima, covering their mouths with a look of absolute horror in their eyes... and the maps showing what had clearly been a premeditated assasination attempt on the royal family which had very nearly "succeeded" in its objectives -- but even in its "failure" had cost the lives of at least five bystanders (and severely wounded a dozen others), as the car had plunged directly through a mass of happy, oblivious, orange-colored people -- much like those of us who had partied in Amsterdam from the Jordaan to the Amstel.  One minute, they had been happy, exhuberant, celebratory (though probably not as drunk as the Amsterdam crowd) -- the next minute, they were lying on the pavement in pools of their own blood.

It's hard to describe.  It's hard to imagine.  But it happened.

I'm not sure how everyone else here in the Netherlands has emotionally responded to the news.  For me, it's not so much about the royal family or the loss of societal "innocence" that comes with a narrowly-foiled assasination attempt (though the newspapers' treatment of the event would definitely make it seem like something akin to the Kennedy assasination, or maybe more like the attempted Reagan assasination in the U.S.A. -- though I can't personally testify to what either of these events would have felt like).  I could certainly understand how an event like this would affect feelings of national pride and concerns about national security.  But to me, the impact of the events in Appeldoorn have more to do with the assault on the average orange-apparelled street-level celebrants -- people like me and my family and friends.  It's scary.  It makes you wonder about the next Koninginnedag.  It makes you wonder if it really might be the "end of an era," as many of the newspapers are suggesting.

I don't know.  I'm hopeful that the Dutch sense of security-and-celebration can reboud and show itself resilient -- even if it takes a couple of years (like the American response to September 11, 2001).  But that all still remains to be seen.

For now, my heart goes out to the families of those who died in Appeldoorn yesterday.  I'm glad that our family ultimately made it home yesterday without incident -- but I realize that it could have just as easily been us... or anyone else celebrating Koninginnedag, for that matter.  Good Lord, what's the world coming to?  Marana tha.  O Lord, come quickly.

Immigration is a war of attrition.  They try to wear you down, form by form, bureaucrat by bureaucrat, year by year.  If you can resist -- if you can stand firm -- throwing enough time, energy, and money at the situation, the immigrant's war of attrition can eventually be won.

But it's not easy.  And it's not fun.

We thought and hoped that we were getting closer to closing one chapter of our family's immigration adventures, though it now appears that it these hopes were in vain.  After five years of uninterrupted legal residence in the Netherlands, we should be qualified to receive unrestricted residence permits -- which would allow us to live and work in the Netherlands for as long as we'd like, without having to continually reapply and pay more fees for limited residence permits (which must be secured every year, or every three years -- presumably depending on the mood of the bureaucrat who happens to process your application).  But now, we're being told that we have not, in fact, maintained legal residence for the entirety of our 6+ years in the Netherlands -- that there was, apparently, a three month period in 2005 where our residence permit applications were being processed but not yet granted (even though we have proof that the applications were submitted on-time) -- and they're now proclaiming that we do not qualify for the unrestricted residence permits.

We're not giving up that easily.  We've got a immigration attorney helping us as well, so our prospects are not entirely hopeless.  And even if we eventually have to run up the white flag and simply apply for our next round of limited residence permits until the spring of 2010 (when we should once again qualify, according to the Dutch government's current interpretation of the laws and our circumstances) for the unlimited residence permits.

But until then, we have to continue our war of attrition.  Today, I set out determined to get passport photos of Cor (required for his application for residence), copies of birth certificates for the kids, and copies of our city registration records (uitreksels) before Cor's nap at 10:00.

I should have known better.

When I arrived at our neighborhood city hall (stadsdeelkantoor), I learned that the office of records -- where I would be able to get our city registration records -- would not open until 10:00, as their hours are from ten o'clock in the morning to seven o'clock in the evening.  And if that wasn't bad enough, I learned that I would have to bike across town, to the Department of Personal Information (Dienst Persoonsgegevens) on the Stadhouderskade to get the needed birth certificates (even though I've always previously been able to arrange for copies of these documents through our neighborhood city hall).  Their hours of operation are from 8:30 in the morning to 4:30 in the afternoon, but I wasn't prepared to ride the bicycle in the pouring rain for an additional 15 minutes there and 15 minutes back -- so I gave up that goal as well.  Fortunately, I was able to get the passport pictures without any significant problems (except that it costs €8 for these four tiny pictures!).  And when I finally succeed in getting together all of the information, I'll have to bring it way across town (about a 45-minute bike ride away) to the Immigration and Naturalization Department, whose hours of operation are limited to the morning hours (I think 8:30 to 11:30, or something like that).

So you see... it's a war of attrition.  This morning, as I blundered through the Dutch bureaucracy, I found myself humming the tune to an old 1980s song by Petra called "Beat the System."  I looked the song up on YouTube and found the following (supremely fabulous) video of the song for your enjoyment as well.  Here's to "facing the heat, daring to beat the system!"

While I've decided to keep my cards close to my chest (deliberately not declaring who I voted for in the election for U.S. President) -- I think it's very interesting to note that Europeans are absolutely open and crystal clear about their hopes for America's Election Day:  They want Obama to win.  They yearn for Obama to win.  They are desperate for Obama to win.

I have yet to talk with a single European who would prefer McCain over Obama.

But even more interesting than their political leanings, I'm simply fascinated by how closely Europeans are following the American elections.  It is a huge spectator sport on this side of the globe!  It's the stuff of front-page headlines (not page 5 "International News").  It's on all the TV stations.  And even traveling throughout the city of Amsterdam, one can see posters, postcards, and bumper stickers offering commentary on the U.S. elections (both the picture above and the picture to the right were taken right here in my own neighborhood).  Below, you can see two free postcards (often available around town in these "Boomerang" postcard displays) that I picked up at a Coffee Company -- which clearly show that there is no nuance and no subtlety in the European view of American politics.

To be honest, I don't completely understand the strong emotions on this side of the ocean (though this op-ed by an Australian -- a Christian Australian even -- helps me to understand a little bit better).  But I certainly can't deny that the feelings are there.  For myself, more than anything, I find myself again and again affirmed in my decision to support whoever wins the election.  At least in my situation, there are advantages either way.  But for now, until all the dust settles, I'm enjoying the news, the drama, the intrigue, and serving as a spectator to the spectators of the sport in which I have already participated for 2008...