All posts by Claire

About Claire

Wandering (and wondering) development professional and aspiring aid worker. Contact me on anticipationofwonder[at]gmail[dot]com

A Sanctuary in Amsterdam: Falling in Love with Begijnhof

Adventures, The Netherlands, Travelling in Europe, Why,

I turn at the American Book Centre, following the guidebook instructions. There are several other tourists there, standing before a heavy wooden door. One of them steps forward and opens the door. We pass through a doorway and a passage passing under the houses, and emerge in the absolute peace and calm of a hidden, inner courtyard. Suddenly, it’s quiet. The noise and chaos and people of Amsterdam fall away.

I stop, with several others, to read the plaque. Some wander around quietly. On the lawn stands a statue of a woman, dark against the green grass, the autumn leaves and the brick of the church.

Begijnhof (800x451)

The plaque tells the stories of the Beguines. Beginning sometime in the twelfth century, groups of women in the Low Countries and later Germany and France chose to come together to live as a religious community, primarily to care for the sick. They were single, Catholic women who were not nuns but chose to live away from the roles they would probably have been expected to assume otherwise (wife, mother or cloistered nun) in this lay community of faith. They took temporary vows of chastity and obedience but were able to end those vows at any time and leave the community. They did not take vows of poverty and so were able to keep their own possessions, which (the guidebook suggests) helped to preserve the Begijnhof (Beguinage) in later years when the property of the Catholic Church in Amsterdam was seized by the state.

These women lived in the houses around this courtyard over hundreds of years. In the middle of the courtyard stands a stone church built in the 1400s. All the houses, rather than facing the busy streets, look down upon this church. The church, in its courtyard, would have been the centre of these women’s lives. The wooden houses and the original church building were mostly destroyed in the Amsterdam fires of 1421 and 1452 but the Beguines rebuilt, this time building brick homes for themselves – one of the old wooden houses has been restored to show what the original homes would have looked like. The Beguines also paid for the rebuilding and restoration of the church themselves.

In 1578, Roman Catholic Amsterdam was converted by the “Orangist Calvinists” to be a Protestant city. Catholic magistrates were dismissed and it was forbidden (until 1795) for Roman Catholics to openly profess their faith. All churches, monasteries and convents were confiscated by the authorities. The church in the courtyard of the Begijnhof was handed over and was given to the English speaking population of Amsterdam as their Protestant Church.

Although the Beguines had handed over the church they had built and rebuilt, the houses were the private property of the women, so the government did not try to confiscate them. The community around the courtyard remained and the Begijnhof remained a Roman Catholic enclave in Protestant Amsterdam for more than 200 years, an enclave where these women quietly practised their faith and cared for others in spite of the political upheaval and religious intolerance that raged beyond their walls.

The women now worshipped in a small “house-church” in two a-joining houses. One of many hidden churches in Amsterdam. In 1671, with the permission of the municipality, they were finally able to build a proper chapel on this spot. The current chapel opened in 1682. At the time, 150 Beguines and 12 widows or single women lived in the Beguinage.

The last member of the Beguine community or sisterhood at the Begijnhof in Amsterdam passed away in 1971, the last of many generations of women of this community over almost 800 years. Although the community no longer lives here, still only single women are allowed to live in the houses and both the protestant church in the centre of the courtyard and the Catholic chapel remain in use. A major renovation (and restoration) was carried out in the 1980s and the property handed over to the Beginjhof Foundation, who maintain the property and rent out homes to 93 single women.

It is one of the most peaceful places I have ever visited. Both the church and the chapel continuing to be places of worship, away from the bustle and noise of central Amsterdam. The chapel is part of the annual celebration of the Miracle of Amsterdam. Begijnhof is a sanctuary of peace. There were other tourists there when I visited, lighting a candle in the Catholic chapel, lingering in the Protestant church where the organist and the soprano were practicing hymns, praying, resting or just taking it all in.

Walking along the path around the church I came to the second doorway and stepped out into the street. It felt like I’d walked into a wall of sound. It felt so strange, so unnatural. I stepped back and went back into the courtyard. I wasn’t ready to leave this peace just yet. I wasn’t ready to step back into the world.

There are many wonderful things in Amsterdam and I loved visiting. But the reason I would go back, the reason I find myself drawn to the craziness of inner city Amsterdam, is Begijnhof.

To Amsterdam

Adventures, The Netherlands, trains and train stations, Travelling in Europe

Drama in the Netherlands is a train running 15 minutes late. Phones are pulled out and hasty calls made. Harried people search for a seat where they can send urgent emails. Everyone from the elderly to school children stomps around angrily. 15 minutes later, everyone is on the train and settled into the trip and the delay is forgotten. The train glides past green, green fields. I zone out and wait to arrive.

At Amsterdam Station, I pass a group of teenage boys. Dutch teenagers sound just like Afrikaans teenagers. I’m smiling by the time I reach the exit.

Amsterdam Central Station

I follow the crowds to the main road… and get lost. I have the name of the street I’m supposed to be on and I have a map, but I can’t seem to find the place. The streets are a maze of crowds, neon lights, tourist attractions, noisy trams and stoned people. Everything smells like marijuana and lentil curries. I’m still carrying my backpack and people keep bumping into me. The street signs don’t seem to help. Eventually, I go back to the station and start again.

This time I’m more successful. I’m quite relieved by the time I reach my backpackers. Durty Nellie’s Irish Pub and Hostel. I’ve stayed in such different hostels in the Netherlands. ROOM Rotterdam, efficient, clean and convenient, Flying Pig in Noordwijk much more of a party hostel, now Durty Nellie’s. I think this one is my favourite. Downstairs is a traditional Irish Pub – or at least what a traditional Irish Pub looks in non-Irish cities (one day I hope to be able to compare it to the real thing). Upstairs, with really solid security, are several en-suite dorm rooms. Durty Nellie’s isn’t a coffee shop (no smoking, no drugs), so it’s a welcome break from the chaos outside.

I had planned to spend the afternoon quietly, perhaps quietly in the corner of the pub with a pint, but after looking through some of the brochures I’d been given and the Amsterdam city guidebook I’d picked up at the last minute in Johannesburg, I felt the urge to explore.

Armed with a map, I set off for Dam Square. It turned out to be quite easy to find. I guess my earlier wanderings had given me a fair idea of the layout of central Amsterdam. In the square is a fun-fair. I’m tempted by the Ferris wheel (but definitely not at all by some of the other crazy rides) but decide to leave it for the moment.

Beyond Madame Tussauds, I spot the Royal Palace. It is impressive looking and I take a moment to take it in before walking past to the Nieuwe Kerk. The church isn’t used anymore and inside is a massive Ming Dynasty exhibition. With limited time in Amsterdam, and not much interest in Chinese history, I wander out again. I am intrigued by the fascinating clock on the Nieuwe Kerk clock tower – a clock with the numbers in a closed U-shape around hands fixed to a point at the top, instead of around the hands attached the centre of the circle.

Niewe Kerk 2 (451x800)

I stop for a moment. I’ve been moving around so much in the last few days and rushing so much before that, that it’s almost easy to forget to stop and take in the fact that I am here, that I am standing in the centre of a major capital city in Europe. I head off down the road to see what I can see.

A Day at the Beach

Adventures, The Netherlands, Travelling in Europe,

Noordwijk beach

From Den Haag, I headed to Leiden. I had visited Leiden during the previous week to have dinner with colleagues. It had been a brief visit, but the town seemed pretty and I was interest. I’d looked it up on the internet later. Leiden is a university town since 1575 with canals and parks and rivers and is a transport hub. I arrive around lunch time – Leiden is only 20 km from The Hague. Leiden Central Station is also one of the nicest stations I visited in The Netherlands. It’s small enough to be comfortable and it’s well laid-out.

I wandered out and headed along the road. I passed the restaurant where I had dinner with colleagues and stopped on a bridge over a canal to enjoy the view. I was starting to get hungry but the places I passed were still closed. I reached a square with a canal, beyond it and beautiful buildings all around. There are canal tour boats tethered and I consider a tour but I was ready sit down to a leisurely lunch. I turned back and noticed that the staff of the restaurant on the corner of the square were setting up their outside area, righting chairs and wiping down tables. Perfect.

After good pizza, I headed back to the station. Lunch had been enlivened – in a pleasant way – by the arrival of a biker gang who rode up on the motorbikes and settled down to lunch. Being a biker in a country of cyclists must really make you feel like a rebel. At the station, I waited for bus 20 to Noordwijk aan Zee.

This was designed to be the quiet part of my trip. I had been out this way before – the conference that brought me to the Netherlands was in this direction – and the idea of a little time out at the beach appealed a lot. Closer and closer we got – the bus ride was 45 minutes. In retrospect, I probably could have gotten a bus directly from The Hague but then I’d have missed lunch. Also, I really do like trains.

Suddenly, with almost no change, no distinction, we were driving through a beach resort. The bus dropped me near the lighthouse. I went to the backpackers to drop off my bags and then headed straight for the sea. In South Africa I live outside the coastal city of Durban but the beach still is a good hour’s drive away. I don’t think I’ve spent any time at the beach since I moved there. This beach, on the coast of The Netherlands, right on the North Sea was exactly what I needed.

The beach was still crowded with weekend visitors when I arrived. Kite-surfers skipped across the water, children cried out, families sipped beer and hot chocolate in beach-front restaurants. I was surprised at how brown the sea was but the signs said it was a blue flag beach. The sea air felt good.

I walked along the promenade, past expensive hotels and luxury beach-front apartments. At the end, where the dunes met the road, a wagon was selling sea-food. It smelt good. I turned the corner and headed back to the main street where the backpackers was. Restaurants were buzzing and shops were all still open. I stepped into a pedestrian mall off the main street. Hundreds of people wove their way along between the shops – souvenir shops, clothes shops, designer boutiques, coffee shops, take away places, stationers and ice-cream parlours. Some were families. Parents pushed prams. Cyclists twisted between pedestrians and parked their bikes to join friends or go into shops. There were people everywhere. A child stood leaning, with her dog, waiting. High above, bells chimed from a tower dated Anno 1647.

That evening back at the hostel was sociable and fun. The communal area was a crowded with young people from all over the world, all talking and laughing.

Before I left the next morning, I went back to the beach. This time it was nearly deserted. A few people walked their dogs. The restaurants that had been so busy the night before were silent now. A long, peaceful stretch of golden sands, rolling seas and the lonely cry of gulls. I walked for ages. It was good to be alone with the sea.