(This post was written while I lived in NYC in 2007, during the “I think I want to move back to Europe” phase)
This past Saturday I was running (well, biking) all over Philadelphia from one event to another. I started off at Molly’s Bookstore in the Italian Market, where Big Tea Party was having their 10th-anniversary celebration and fundraiser. They had a great crowd come out, and the small bookstore was packed with activists, artists, filmmakers, musicians, etc.
I was happy to see someone I knew from back in the day, Ellen, come in to the room. As we started talking I caught her up on what I’m up to (living in Brooklyn and working in TV post-production) and what I’m planning in the near future. Part of me remains a little scared that that no one will take me or my plans seriously, but I shouldn’t have been worried about something like that while I was at a fundraiser for an anarchist cooking/crafts/activist show. So I began talking in more detail about why I want to live in Amsterdam and the documentary that I want to make – and Ellen’s response is “I did that exact same thing!”
I’m going to guess Ellen is about 40 years old. When she was younger, she decided to move to Paris with her boyfriend for no real specific reason (hey, me too!). Then she took a 3-day trip to Amsterdam, fell in love with that city, and relocated. She stayed for about five years, had her son there, and had a great story about living on a houseboat. She’s currently a video production instructor in Philadelphia and also makes her own documentaries. Both of us shared pretty much the exact same views on why Paris is great but we don’t want to live there and why Amsterdam is such an appealing city. So now I’m in this amazing conversation with an American documentary filmmaker who has lived in Paris and Amsterdam, and this guy who has experience shooting throughout Sarajevo joined in on the talk, and they’re both telling me that I should absolutely move back to Europe and make documentaries. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” the guy (whose name I forget, dammit) said.
“28,” I replied.
“Oh, you’re still a baby! Of course you have to do this,” was his response.
In my head, I silently thanked him for thinking of me as someone who is still a kid. Every so often I get an irrational fear in my head that I have waited too long, that I should have been out there when I was 18 years old. I should know more languages and I should have traveled to more places by now, and maybe it’s too late and I should just stay in New York City and work myself into the ground trying to become a bigshot in TV production. But then I attend events like the Big Tea Party fundraiser, and I’m surrounded by people like Elizabeth, who will be celebrating her 50th birthday this year and is still just as passionate and daring as any 18-year-old. These people are still traveling, still protesting, still activists, and still have time to encourage me to do the same. I feel very grateful to have such amazing role models in my life.
It’s always been hard for me to be patient, but I really want to do it right this time around. This is the good part about being 28, and not 22 – I simply know a little more now. I know that my first priority in Amsterdam must be figuring out a way to live there legally with a proper residence permit. I know that is going to be very, very difficult. The first few months I’m there – well, I have no idea what it will be like, but it won’t all be sunshine and roses and bike rides and apple strudels. There will be mountains of paperwork, bureaucracy rules that I’m not used to, and the very real fact that I don’t have a lot of friends living there right now that I can lean on for support. But when I do have all my paperwork in order and I’ve obtained the residence permit and gotten myself a place to live (and I don’t doubt that I will be able to do all of that), I’m sure I will have made a few more friends along the way, and I’ll toast to the next phase in my life.