MUN-ing in Amsterdam

I have recently decided to move to the Netherlands. I made this decision after spending a week in den Haag for yet another Model United Nation conference (The Hague International MUN). The cities of den Haag and Amsterdam were some of the most inviting and aesthetically pleasing places I've ever been--canals, windmills, and tulip markets dotted every corner; fleets of bicycles rushed past every crosswalk; and it seemed that in almost every shop an enormous, hairy dog would wander past dolefully. Windmills, bicycles and dogs...what could be more perfect?

We left Ankara at eight in the morning, and somehow managed to board a plane successfully and land in the Netherlands. If you've ever traveled by airplane, you'll know how much of a hassle checking-in and boarding can be, but multiply that stress by fourteen impatient teenagers and you can begin to understand our situation. Anyway, we finally found ourselves in den Haag, Holland. Our hotel was aptly named "Hotel Petit,"a charming little bed-and-breakfast that exuded Dutch charm. After a brief excursion to a Greek restaurant for dinner, where we hotly debated whether yogurt is Greek or Turkish--we returned to our hotel for some much-needed rest.

Late Saturday morning, we enjoyed a delicious breakfast of thick, buttery raisin bread, and departed to Amsterdam. Our first destination was the Anne Frank house, a somber memorial of the Frank family and all the victims of the Second World War. What struck me about the house was how narrow and steep all the staircases and ladders were. All the windows were closed in blackout curtains, and the overall effect was one of claustrophobia and fear. After that edifying experience, we spent a few hours wandering the streets of Amsterdam, peeking into antique shops and independent art exhibits. After a refreshing lunch of cheese toasts, we decided to tour the renowned Rijksmuseum, where Rembrandt's masterpiece "The Night-Watch" was displayed. Nearly an hour later, everyone was stupefied by the presence of such extraordinary paintings, so we decided to eat an early supper and return to den Haag. Someone had the brilliant idea of eating at Hard Rock Cafe, which we all agreed to enthusiastically. Unfortunately, no one quite knew where the cafe was, but we convinced our ever-patient chaperones to let us use our collective innate sense of direction to lead us there. After a few hours traisping the darkening streets of Amsterdam and asking directions from every person we made eye contact with, we finally glimpsed the iconic neon "Hard Rock Cafe" sign shining from the darkness.

Cries of hallelujah sprang from our mouths as we ran blindly towards the oasis. Sadly, it was packed full, and closed for the night. Deflated, we slunk into the steak house next door and cried into our ridiculously expensive rump steaks.

Early the next morning we awoke, and set off for the Escher museum in den Haag. MC Escher was a Dutch artist known for his depictions of optical illusions and "impossible structures" of staircases going up and down, water flowing in the wrong direction, and houses seemingly designed in an alternate universe. The museum housed many of his original woodcuts and prints, and also contained some fun optical illusions, like a room that made someone standing in one corner appear gigantic, and another person seem tiny. 

Visions of birds metamorphosing into fish danced in our heads as we left the Escher museum for the Hague city center. There, we dined at a small cafe that possessed a beautiful terrace overlooking the square. Our time touring was cut short, however, as we had to register at the World Forum for THIMUN conference. 

I had almost forgotten that we'd come to the Netherlands for THIMUN, but as soon as we walked into the polished lobby of the World Forum Convention Center, where THIMUN was to be held, a burst of MUN-induced adrenaline raced through my veins. THIMUN is arguably one of the biggest and most prestigious Model United Conferences in the world. It spans different continents, being hosted in the Netherlands, Qatar, and Singapore each year, and attracts sponsors like Saudi Aramco to fund its week of debate. We registered quickly, and set about exploring the enormous conference center. Floors were divided into mountains, continents, rivers and oceans; my committee was in the "Amazon" room next to the "Nile" and the "Yanghtze."

 The conference lasted for five days, from Monday until Friday afternoon. It was perhaps one of the most intense weeks of debate and speeches I've ever experienced. I was almost relieved when it ended on Friday afternoon--the sheer enormity of the conference (three thousand students attended) was overwhelming; in my own committee there were six hundred people alone. And yet, as the closing ceremony concluded and the gavel was hit for the final time, something amazing happened. From the doors of the World Forum Theater came an immense drumming sound, and a marching steel-drum band burst inside. They started dancing and weaving through the audience, and everyone leapt up to enjoy the spectacle. All the ambassadors of the countries represented in THIMUN started a procession onto the stage, where they waved their flags in time to the music. 

It was extraordinary.

It was the kind of sight that stays in your mind for long after it's gone.

So many people had gathered here, to learn from eachother and find ways to better our collective future. It was cliche, yet (as I find myself so often during these conferences) I was filled with hope. Surely, if all these people believe in peace and diplomacy and environmental sustainability, surely somehow we will make a difference, whether through our personal choices of turning off unused lamps and switching to cleaner lightbulbs or becoming more educated on a global level.

We walked outside into the crisp night air, and again I was reminded why I love participating in MUN so much. This feeling, of having accomplished something significant, was like nothing else. 

A dozen yells filled the air, and I suddenly remembered that tonight was the THIMUN dance. Grandiose thoughts of world peace and fair trade evaporated from my head, like a thousand flags fluttering in the breeze.