My host recommended this bike mechanic who lived down the street as being cheaper than a full-on bike shop. His name is Tonie and he’s a semi-retired gentleman who works on bikes. He’s also that totally awesome type of extremely knowledgeable, clever, craftsman that you don’t seem to run into very often anymore. When he started working on the lights, he said, “Now you will see how a man with an electro-technical background fixes a bicycle.” Apparently he had been an electrical engineer or something similar before he retired, and it showed in the methodology he used to test the various components to get the lights working. Example: to test whether the generator that powered the lights for the bike was good, he hooked it up to a power source and ran it backwards as a motor.

It was actually fairly complicated to figure out which wires went where, because somebody had worked on it before and left a lot of extra dead wires which did nothing.

Here are some pictures of Tonie and his shop. I have a few more but the internet is really slow right now at the library, so I’ll post the rest later. EDIT: I have now posted all of them.

I really enjoyed it for that 18 hours or so. I haven’t decided whether I’ll try to get another one or not. One thing’s for sure, if I do, I’ll get a much better lock and try not to park it anywhere so exposed in the future.

You can see the lock on the wheel

I also met with one of the guys from PUSCII. He seemed like a very interesting, intelligent guy, but also very intense. He apparently spent 10 days in jail for chaining himself to railroad tracks along with other protestors to block the movement of trains carrying equipment for the war in Iraq. The charges were eventually dropped in response to bad press. He’s a true old-school computer guy, he even has a Commodore 64. He seemed to feel like the hacktivism scene in Europe was getting stale from a peak in the late 90s with the tech bubble. PUSCII at this point doesn’t have much of a physical presence, and he said it’s been hard attracting volunteers. He did give me some tips on other groups that might be more active (including a couple in nearby Amsterdam). So I’ll probably try to check that out.

The PUSCII sign

For dinner I cooked up this thing that’s sort of a Turkish equivalent of the frozen burrito. It was actually fairly tasty with vegetables and spices and stuff (I cooked it in the oven instead of the microwave, which usually helps). But what was really bizarre is that actually printed(?) onto the wrapper/tortilla part of it is the word “Mmm”. You can see it in the photo below. When I first saw it, I thought I was imagining it, or that I’d somehow failed to remove all the plastic covering. But no, it’s actually printed on there with food coloring or something. As a general rule, I try to avoid readable food, with special exemptions for alphabet soup/cereal.

"Mmm"

They sold me a new inner tube for €5, and tried to sell me a whole new tire which, “starts at €50.” There’s no way I’m going to pay the entire price of the bike again for a new tire, so I turned that part down. I also declined having them install the inner tube for €15 thinking it would be a quick and simple process to do myself. After doing some more research, I’m starting to rethink that position.

The fact that it’s the rear tire means that I’ll have to deal with disengaging the gears + chain, this is made more difficult by the fact that Dutch bikes have the chain and gears hidden away behind a plastic chain-guard thing (which is probably good for protecting it). Furthermore, Dutch bikes don’t seem to have the clamp-style brakes I’m used to on the rear wheel. There are rear brakes, I just don’t see where they are or how they work. Also, removing the tire to get access to the inner tube is normally done with a specialized tool (that I don’t have), although I could maybe cheat and use a screwdriver or something to pop it out of the rim.

The tire in question

So I have to make some kind of decision, do I just pay the bike shop to do it and have a working bike more quickly with more money spent, or do I try to do it myself and learn some stuff about bike repair while saving money. I am very loath to sink any more money into the whole having-a-bike thing than I already have, but on the other hand, the longer I’m bikeless the more I’m wasting on busses.

On the other hand, I could just buy a smart car:

Only €5 per dag!

After dealing with bike-related irritation, I went into Amsterdam to see the Van Gogh museum. It’s way overpriced at €12.50 (and no youth/student discounts, unless you’re under 17), but it was a very nice museum. It was interesting to see an entire museum devoted to one artist; you could definitely see how Van Gogh progressed in his technique. The details of his life seemed pretty sad, though. He failed as a religious missionary, so he decided to become an artist. His art was essentially ignored his whole life and he relied on his brother for financial support. Then he went crazy and eventually shot himself. Being posthumously revered seems like small consolation.

I liked this one

and this one

They also had stuff from other artists who were Van Gogh’s contemporaries/inspirations. I thought this one was pretty well done, especially with the ominous shadows on the right.

Jean-Léon Gérôme - Golgotha

Cool

But also did really lame stuff, like this:

Lame

I actually walked through the exhibit in reverse order, so I assumed that he started out drawing simple geometric shapes on white backgrounds (he even did a whole bunch of white-on-white paintings, which sounds like a joke except I saw one in the museum) and later learned how to make awesome things. It turns out I was wrong. He started out cool, but later founded an art movement called Suprematism, which, as far as I can tell involves using only red, white and black to make paintings an eight-year old could do with stencils, and then making grandiose claims about how your art “will not be copies of living things, but will themselves be a living thing,” and how a square represents “the supremacy of pure sensation in creative art.”

Anyway, we went to dinner at this place called “Stairway to Heaven” which was essentally a Hard Rock Cafe-knockoff. They had all kinds of signed guitars and memorabilia on the walls. They had a “Shagadelic Burger” on the menu that looked pretty good, but I got a chicken kabob instead because I tend to be dissapointed by burgers in Europe. Later, we went to this club Tivoli where Koen and a bunch of his friends work so we got in free. It was a really cool club, it’s too bad I didn’t have my camera with me. I saw a guy there wearing an American Apparel Legalize LA shirt, and another one wearing a Cubs jersey. Both struck me as kind of random choices for wear in the Netherlands.

I did get my bike tire fixed by paying a bike shop (€12.50). They were kind of dicks about it. They told me that I needed a new tire, refused to put on a used-but-better tire I had (“It’s against policy”), but were willing to put the original tire back on. Whatever.

Koen’s bike had been stolen last week, so to get from his place into the city center and back, we doubled up on my bike. This is a VERY common practice in the Netherlands. The passenger will sit side-saddle on the cargo rack on the back of the bike. When I was driving the bike, it was mostly fine. It just felt like I was riding with a very heavy, unbalanced load on the back. However, when we switched with me riding on the back, I found it really terrifying. We were moving pretty quickly and I kept feeling like I was going to slip and fall off the back, or topple sideways off the bike (backwards from the way I was sitting) if we banked too much on a turn. It was fine though.

Today I went to a this free outdoor music festival thing. It was pretty cool, the first band we saw was a very generic indie rock band, although they did have an electric violin. Later there was another band that was a little more bluesy. The festival vibe was very relaxed with lots of families and people hanging out on blankets and stuff. They also had a “Pimp your ride” tent where they had painting supplies and people who wanted to could give their bike a wild new paint job. I jazzed up my crappy bike–which I have named “Squeak, rattle ‘n roll”–which I think significantly improved its appearance. Sadly, I just sold it to a French student for €35. He said he liked the paint.

EDIT: Apparently in Germany, MTV aired an actual show called Pimp my Fahrrad which is exactly like Pimp My Ride but with bicycles.

There was some question as to whether the car would make the 100km journey to Pisa without incident, but it performed like a champ.

Upon arriving in Pisa, we visited was a large social center near the city center. It’s not quite a squat, because the groups using it had a two-year lease from the city that recently expired. They haven’t moved out, and are currently embroiled in a fight to renew the lease. The city wants to bulldoze the building and construct a bus depot. It’s a big structure, and twenty-three groups involved in all sorts of different activities are based there. There’s a group that provides free bike repairs, a group that offers Italian language classes to the local immigrant population, and the hacklab offers tutorials on the internet and computers. Stefania conducted an interview with one of the hackers for her Ph.D. research, and he also gave us a tour around the premises.

Cool broken-computer art piece in the courtyard

The bike repair room

Wall of the library in the social center

After the tour, we were invited to borrow some bikes and participate in the Critical Mass demonstration that evening. Apparently Pisa holds Critical Mass events every month, but they are usually not that large, with only a few dozen people in attendance. This event was different, because instead of the normal organizers, it was put together by protesting university students.

A little bit of background, the Italian government recently passed a new law (“legge 133″) which drastically slashes funding for education in Italy, including universities. There isn’t a whole lot of English-language media on the issue, but Nature has published a couple pieces on the impact it will have on research scientists in Italy. It’s not just the scientists and staff who are upset, though. University students are also righteously pissed off. In protest, students have occupied many of the public universities in Italy in 1960s-style sit-in takeovers, and there have been many large street demonstrations. The University of Pisa (founded 1343!) is one of the more prestigious Italian universities, and, along with some of the universities in Rome, has been playing a leading role in these protests.

So anyway, that’s what this Critical Mass was about, a protest against law 133. Somewhere between two and three hundred people showed up, and even the organizers were suprised by the number of bike-riding supporters. The group assembled in front of the University buildings, and then rode from there to the Piazza dei Miracoli (“Square of Miracles”) in front of the Leaning Tower, making a lot of noise, chanting slogans (“Hands off the University!”—it rhymes much nicer in Italian) and attracting attention along the way. Arriving at the square, somebody broke out a megaphone and people were taking turns addressing the crowd from the pediment of a statue in front of the Tower. One of the teachers whose job is now in jeopardy spoke and was well-received; several students shouted fiery rhetoric into the megaphone.

The guy with the megaphone in the above photo, in particular, seemed to me to be the very embodiment of the dashing, romantic young student-cum-revolutionary. He spent a lot of time with the megaphone.

I was just thinking about how awesome it would be to stand on statues and yell things into megaphones for good causes when Stefania poked me, “Hey, they want people who speak foreign languages to come up and address the tourists.” Somebody spoke in French, and then Spanish; I figured they would easily have somebody to do English, but I’ve found that the Italians are surprisingly self-conscious about their English, even when they speak it relatively well.

It was then that I was really glad I hadn’t shaved in a few days. You gotta look the part, right? I stepped up onto the pediment, megaphone in hand, and discovered to my surprise that it’s not as easy as one might think to ad lib appropriate, inspiring, and eloquent rhetoric when facing a crowd of several hundred students and perhaps a thousand more tourists and onlookers.

I think I must’ve been reading too much American political coverage lately, because on my first attempt I could summon nothing but bland banalities about the importance of education. I said, among other things, “A great nation like Italy deserves a great university system.” and “Education should be a government priority!” Not exactly the stuff of which revolutions are made.

People were supportive though, and after a minute or two, I stepped down. A small, shy Asian kid stepped up after me and addressed the crowds in timid Japanese. He was awesome and everyone loved him. About 10 minutes later, some of the Italian students motioned me over again. Apparently they really wanted English addresses because so many tourists speak English.

On my second go around I felt I did a much better job. I explained to the tourists that, “this demonstration is against a new government law that cuts funding to education, they are strangling the university,” and went on to say that “universities are important to the health of a nation; especially a nation with a culture and history like Italy’s. Some of the oldest universities in the world are here in Italy, and now they are threatening to destroy that. We cannot allow this!”

The ‘we’ was a bit of a stretch, I concede. I also found myself being far more nationalistic with my rhetoric than the Italians who were speaking. Had I shouted, “Death to Berlusconi!” I suspect the protestors would’ve eaten it up (I also suspect I might’ve gotten an angry phone call from the US State Department). But I felt that as a foreigner, it wasn’t my place to issue sweeping denunciations of the Italian government. Please note that this kind of courtesy doesn’t stop Europeans from talking shit on my government continuously.

Approaching the tower

These guys were awesome, their signs say Adopt A Mathematician

After the Critical Mass, we headed back to the social center for a party, but the rest of the stuff in Pisa is probably worthy of a separate post.