Monday, November 19, 2012

Tramming Through Amsterdam:

Most morning when the clouds cover Amsterdam's skies, or when rain drops down from above, the city's trams and I become best friends, together dashing off into the distance onward toward our final destination. The tram is a comforting beginning to my day, providing it with a rhythm while simultaneously allowing for reflection. During my tram rides, many pages of books are (and have been) read, many visuals are consumed, and countless articles on International Herald Tribune can be scrolled through with my fingers on my tiny 'mobile' screen; so works society with apparatuses that are in-dated alongside infrastructure that is out-dated. Every so often an older tram is presented to me outside an anonymous tram stop; suddenly I'm transported to another time and place: a time where maroon, black, and tan were considered chic, and rubber and chrome were pleasant combinations for both the eyes and skin. The trams of this city delight me, whatever their surface may expose, as just below their immediately perceivable surface, countless stories of those who've glided through the cities streets are stored. Amsterdam's trams, like its people, are always on the move–while its citizens are provided with public transportation, convenience, delight, and above all: surprises.