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We would rather die on our feet than live on our knees
After soaking up Paris for a few days it was time to see the French countryside. The invasion beaches of Normandy are a sure bet but I didn't expect much more than a historical brush up...
Its been so long since I have had a positive reaction from being American on the road, I barley remember the days when people's faces brightened up. Being here at Omaha Beach is a walk back in time to when countries revered our honor and resolve to defend freedom. The locals still talk with steel eyes of how the American took the heaviest casualties of the allies and had nothing to gain but an ideal, to free the world of Nazi tyranny. Being here is enough to make the most weary traveler swell with pride and feel on top of the world.
While in Echternach Luxembourg, a couple of older men approached me and shook my hand with a heartfelt thanks, turning me around to a statue of the Americans freeing the city after D-day. Perfect. A moment in time to own.
"If ever proof were needed that we fought for a cause and not for conquest, it could be found in these cemeteries. Here was our only conquest: all we asked was enough soil in which to bury our gallant dead."
General Mark W. Clark, Chairman, American Battle Monuments Commission, 1969-1984.
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After the Middle East, I hit the ground in Morocco running... all the way up to France. Most of you have probably been to Western Europe so there isn't too much to report on... but hey, I'll come up with something!
The highlights were Rabat Morocco, Tangier, Lagos Portugal, Lisbon, Seville and Normandy France. Bad news though, as much as I tried to dislike Paris (hey everyone loves it and didn't we shun them after not going in to Iraq with us?) If you haven't been... it is beautiful. Heck I even spent a day in the Louvre and I don't like museums...
Next up, playing roots in Amsterdam...
Some gave all, all gave some, none will be forgotten.
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Roots
In search of my Netherland Dutch heritage, I set out for Amsterdam by bus. A girl named Maresca sat next to me and so began the 8 hour odyssey into the depths of my DNA. She could have been my mother when she was that age: tall, blond haired, blue eyed, and as friendly as could be. By the time we reached the canals of Holland, I knew her life history and she had fed me dinner out of her bag. Actually I was supposed to stop in Brussels for awhile but figured hospitality like this was a sign to keep going. And the gamble paid off with a city just as friendly.
Funny, so many locals insisted on speaking to me in Dutch, even after I told them I was American and never learned the language. They would reply: But you mother is Dutch right? and pick up the conversation in Dutch... Hmmm... Free spirited, thrifty, business minded, humorous, accepting, all the qualities we grew up with by my Mom were there...on display like a huge museum of character.
The summative experience of my gene search came to a point in Luxembourg City. While staying at the city's only hostel, I wandered in the weekend a Dutch college swim team and an Italian professional choir had booked the place full. Rolling out of bed, I wound up smack in the middle of them at breakfast and sat in awe of the contrast of each side.
Like a room size scale model of my mind...
I could hardly eat and took it all in like a fisheye lens... Then it came to me why I could not find my mother's family name in the Netherlands. Dutch are from many places and our name may eventually hail from Denmark, possibly via Greenland. You know what that means...
As Mario (a friend I met in Kyrgyzstan) so eloquently put, traveling is a state of mind...The more I travel the bigger the world seems... there is always more out there and the more I know there is to see. I hope you be with me again for next summer's round the world. Looks like the Caroline's and Marshall islands, Bhutan, Timor, Irian Jaya , Namibia, Botswana, Zambia, Zimbabwe, South Africa and either Greenland or Costa Rica. Thats the plan anyway.
Happy Trails,
Joe
Guam 9 September, 2007
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