Albert Heijn

                                                                     

     Things in Amsterdam are very small. It's a densely populated city and the people are packed together, as the Dutch would say, like herrings in a barrel.( A lot of their idioms are about fish and monkeys for some reason). When I first came here I immediately felt like Will Ferrell in the beginning of the movie Elf where he's this giant human living in the world of the elves, breaking furniture and such. I've learned how to live with tiny things, and now I can gracefully sit on a child sized stool at a table the width of a hubcap and drink an espresso out of a cup that looks like it came in a set of accessories for Barbie's Malibu beach house.

     One item that I had to become accustomed to early on was our teeny tiny college dorm style refrigerator. It has two shelves, one drawer, and a freezer roughly the size of a Mazda Miata glove compartment that says in bold letters “ICE WORLD.” Ice world holds one tray of ice cubes and a popsicle, hardly a world at all. The capacity of the refrigerator necessitates frequent trips to perhaps the most annoyingly small of places in Amsterdam, the shop. The purpose that I'm belatedly arriving at here is to bitch about the grocery store.

     There are a few stores here, all similar, but I usually go to Albert Heijn. You might be picturing something like Ralph's or Trader Joe's where the living is easy and the aisles are as wide and unoccupied as a freeway after the apocalypse. No. I remember my halcyon days of shopping at places like Target, Fred Meyer's, and T.J. Maxx, perusing the endless aisles at leisure, poking at nick-knacks and savoring samples. Pushing a cart.

     I do not use a cart at Albert Heijn. Primarily because as everyone else has baskets I'll look like the only fat ass that needs to buy more than a two day supply of food, also because the cart (despite being roughly the size of one of those children's play carts) just doesn't fit down the aisle. Once I enter the door I'm immediately swept into a swiftly moving current of other shoppers. Due to the place having the dimensions of a large janitor's closet this happens no matter how few shoppers there actually are in the store. If I miss something as I'm swept past it I have to either make full bodily contact with the people behind me and struggle to travel counter clockwise or ride the lazy river all the way around again and try to grab faster. Did you want to take a second to read the nutrition label on that? Too bad.

     You will rue the day you drank the last of the milk if you have to go during peak shopping hours. For some reason the mostly teenage employees of Albert Heijn (bless them) wait until it's at absolute capacity to drag out these massive restocking carts with which they clog the arteries of the store. It's like being pulled into a raging river and trying to avoid areas of flotsam while also comparing prices.

     The Dutch have a different way of relating to other people's space than I am used to. I think it's a function of the amount of people in such a small area.

United States:

-Someone needs to get past me. I'll take that into consideration and do my best to make room for them with a smile and acknowledgment from both parties.

Netherlands:

-Someone needs to get past me. I'll stand exactly where I am and completely ignore them, the problem should just work itself out naturally.

      For the record I don't think people are being intentionally rude. I think that there are just so many people stacked on top of each other that it wouldn't be practical to acknowledge everyone, so you don't acknowledge anyone.

     When you go to check out at the store you always have to bring your own bag or buy one, I think this is a good thing. The cashiers are allowed to sit rather than standing all day, also good. You bag your own groceries, another plus in my opinion. I miss Trader Joe's though.