Chapter 10: Mike and Elizaveta's Excellent Adventure, Part III

June 11, 1985, Amsterdam, Den Haag, and Utrecht, the Netherlands

"May I give you some advice?" I asked Elizaveta on Wednesday morning as we shared the bathroom for our morning routines.

"What?"

"Dial back the outrage meter about twenty percent."

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning and putting her hands on her hips as I got into the shower.

"I mean responding 'gross' or showing disapproval of anything you think is 'weird'. It's OK to have those feelings, but I've always found that a much better strategy is to be careful what opinions I express in public."

"Of course you don't think it's gross to just kiss any random girl, do you?"

"I would say Abby's assessment about guys on that topic was correct."

"You are such a boy!"

"I thought that's what you liked about me!" I teased.

I finished my quick shower, and we changed places so I could brush my teeth and trim my beard while Elizaveta showered.

"Did you ever play games like that in High School or Junior High?" she asked.

"No, but not from lack of trying! But I didn't get invited to parties where they played those games, so I never really had the opportunity. You know I dated April for basically my entire Senior year, and we were a couple. She was not remotely interested in games like that, and even if she had been, we mostly hung out with Jocelyn and Dale, who were dating Carl and Stacey, respectively."

"But you would have?"

"Honestly? Yes."

"Can I ask how many girls you think you've kissed?"

"It has to be dozens," I said. "But before I was with Jocelyn, the only serious make-out sessions I had were with April, and those were really tame. For the other girls, it was usually limited to a 'good night' kiss."

"But you wanted more?"

"Obviously."

She got out of the shower and dried herself, and then we both got dressed. We left the bathroom, and Sandy and Pete went in. Clarissa and Abby had gone first, so they were dressed and ready to go as we were.

"We're going to wait outside," I said. "We'll be on the bench across the street."

"Is everything OK?" Clarissa asked.

I nodded, "Yes, we just need to finish a conversation."

"OK. See you outside in a bit."

Elizaveta and I got our fanny packs and left the hostel.

"Can we go back to your reactions, please?" I asked when we sat down on the bench.

"Sure," Elizaveta replied warily.

"Let me ask you a question — if I'd responded to Robby and Lee in that way, would they have ever become my friends and come to church?"

"Probably not," she admitted reluctantly.

"And, continuing that same theme, what if I'd responded to Clarissa that way? Would she have become my best friend and confidante? And your friend? And come to church?"

"No," Elizaveta replied quietly.

"And, the final question — what do you think the laity would do if a priest reacted that way when hearing a confession?"

"They'd probably stop going to confession."

"Forgive me, but like Columbo, I do have one more question. How do you think someone would respond if Matushka Elizaveta reacted that way when they came to her for advice?"

"You win," Elizaveta said quietly.

I put my arm around her, "It's not about winning, Kitten; it's about ensuring that we're loving and accepting of everyone and that we're not judgmental when anyone approaches us for advice or guidance or with questions."

"But those things we talked about are all sinful!"

"They can be," I replied. "I'd say, speaking as if I were a deacon, that playing the basic kissing games teens play is inadvisable, not sinful. Would you call a 'good night' kiss after a date sinful?"

"Probably not."

"Exactly. The danger, of course, again speaking as if I were a deacon, is that it progresses from there. Personally, I'd confess somewhere around second base or shortstop."

"Touching is OK?" she asked.

"It's an interesting question of where to draw the line. Would a slow dance require confession?"

"Probably not."

"What if the guy got an erection, and the girl's nipples hardened, and she got wet?"

"Probably."

"So I'd say the absolute limit would be touching below the waist, any use of your mouth below the shoulders, and absolutely any kind of penetration — tongue, fingers, or penis."

"But isn't the basic idea not to be impure?"

"Of course. And some people would set the standards such that even a kiss was inappropriate until you were, to use the Catholic or Protestant phrase, standing at the altar. Other than a few crazy monks and Tasha's dad, I don't know anyone who would tell teens and young adults not to hold hands, hug, or kiss."

"What would you advise a teen who was doing more?"

"To stop!" I chuckled. "The same thing Fathers Herman and Nicholas both told me! That said, I would ensure they had proper sex education and make sure they were taking proper precautions. That is something neither priest did, but I can see that as a priest, in confession, you couldn't really do that. And outside confession, you can't speak about anything you learned in confession. A deacon actually has more leeway in that area, though I do have to be careful not to cross certain lines, such as recommending or facilitating an abortion or encouraging someone to continue a sinful lifestyle."

"But you said that if you had to, you'd take that training! I mean, before you learned of the alternative."

"I did, and that is because my duty as a physician has to lie first with my patient. I would never, ever, as a licensed physician, perform an elective abortion. Or even advise one. But that wouldn't prevent me from calling a social worker or psychologist to talk to the woman about her alternatives. Or having a frank discussion about the alternatives if she raised them."

"Even an Orthodox woman?"

"I'd suggest she speak to her priest, but I would never, ever deny information, even if that information might lead to what the church called a sinful decision. It's a tough thing, Kitten, for a teenage girl to have a baby. I am in NO position to tell her what to do, though if my advice is asked, I'll give it in love."

"I think this is going to be more difficult than I thought it would be," she said quietly.

"For me, too, I'm sure. So we have to help each other. Have you thought about what you might say to a friend who is thinking of sleeping with her boyfriend and wants advice? Or to know what it's like?"

"Not really. You think they will?"

"Think it through for a second," I replied.

She was quiet for a minute, then I saw an 'aha!' look on her face.

"It's obvious to everyone that I've had sex because I'm married, and the girls will think I have much better information, which I do."

"Yes."

"But what do I tell them?"

"Answer factual questions with facts. There's no point in trying to hide information because, first of all, that doesn't work in the long run; and second of all, in the short run, it can put them at serious risk of pregnancy or other problems."

"Yes, it's true, my husband is seven inches long!" Elizaveta giggled.

"Perhaps not THAT fact," I chuckled.

"But what about sin?"

"Meet them where they are, and talk about the emotional, psychological, and physical aspects of sex and what it means to them. Asking 'why?' is probably a good place to start."

"Because they're horny!" Elizaveta declared mirthfully.

"In some cases, yes, pussy cat!" I teased.

"You!" she growled.

"I prefer it when you purr," I replied. "But the growling Kitten is fun, too!"

Elizaveta laughed, "And you make me purr!"

"You know there are other reasons, too, right?"

"Pressure from their boyfriends. Did you do that?"

"A bit, I suppose, but only with April and that relationship was a mess because I ignored the big warning signs about church. To be honest, I dodged a bullet because she would have felt it implied a promise to marry her when I couldn't do that unless she converted, which she refused to even consider."

"But why do it?"

I chuckled, "Do you remember, all the way back to yesterday, how you felt at lunchtime? Consider feeling like that ALL the time!"

"You wanted to have sex all the time?"

"Testosterone will do that to you! Jocelyn referred to Dale, Carl, and me and our obsession with sex as 'testosterone poisoning'. We were every bit as obsessed with it then as you are now and had no outlet, which you have."

"And you aren't?" she asked accusingly.

"I think you're obsessed enough for the both of us!"

"Oooh! You!"

Our four friends came out of the hostel, which put an end to the conversation. We got up to join them and headed to the same bakery to grab a croissant and coffee. We ate quickly, then headed to the station to board the train to The Hague.

"Looking at the map," Abby said, "it's only about a kilometre and a half from Madurodam to the beach. The same tram line continues there, too, so we could do that. If we find a place for lunch near the beach, then we can satisfy Sandy's request."

"I'm in for sure!" Sandy exclaimed.

"Sure," I replied. "I think our goal should be to do our best to satisfy what everyone wants."

"I don't think anyone needs to ask my opinion!" Pete said.

"True," Elizaveta replied smugly. "The girls always decide! Right, Mike?"

"Yes, Kitten," I replied deadpan.

The others laughed, and I got 'that' look, but Elizaveta didn't say anything.

"I think we have a plan, then," Clarissa said.

When we reached The Hague, we checked a posted map and made our way to the tram stop. We only had to wait a couple of minutes before a tram came, and about ten minutes later, we were at the gates to Madurodam. We were a bit early, so we walked a short distance to a café to have coffee, then returned to enter the park.

We spent just over two hours walking around, checking out the miniature city, as well as important Dutch landmarks which were represented in miniature — Schiphol airport, the Rijksmuseum, tulip fields, windmills, and the port of Rotterdam, to name a few. According to the guidebook, Walt Disney had copied some ideas from the park for the 'Storybook Land' canal ride at Disneyland in California.

When we finished our tour, we elected to walk to the beach, which was at the southern end of the North Sea. With the temperatures in the high 70s or low 80s, it didn't surprise me that there were people on the beach. It was a workday, and school was still in session, so I suspected the beachgoers were mainly tourists. We walked along the beach and located a stand which served fresh seafood, mainly deep-fried, and ordered lunch. I chose fried clams with lemon juice and «frieten» with mayo, while Elizaveta opted for shrimp. We sat at a bench behind the stand to eat, and once we'd finished, we made our way to the tram, which took us back to the main train station for our trip to Utrecht.

In Utrecht, we followed our plan and walked to the Centraal Museum, which contained mainly locally-produced art, which was mostly unavailable to view in the US. Of course, the only art museum I'd visited was the one in Cincinnati, so pretty much everything was new to me. From the museum, we walked to Dom Tower and climbed the nearly 500 steps to the top, which gave us a wonderful view of the city. From there, we went to view the foundations of the ancient Roman fortress which stood at the center of the ancient city.

Finally, we walked to Stadskasteel Oudaen, a brewery and pub which had been in existence since 1296. We had dinner and excellent 'white' beer, which was really good. I wasn't a big fan of beer, but had decided to set aside my drinking rule for this trip, so I had ordered with everyone else. The beer was soft, slightly sweet, and creamy. According to the menu, which was helpfully printed in English on one side, its special flavor was partly due to the addition of orange zest and coriander. I was also very happy that they had simply served Elizaveta without asking any questions. After dinner, we strolled along a canal, then headed for the train station for our trip back to Amsterdam.

In Amsterdam, we bought ice cream, then headed towards the 'Red Light' district. We stopped, just on the edge of the district, at a «coffeeshop» called 'The Bulldog'. It was a good choice, as it turned out, because it was one of the first-ever shops of its kind, and there was quite a bit of history to be learned. Pete actually considered sampling the wares, but in the end, with a bit of pressure from Sandy, he decided not to. We left the shop and wandered around, looking at the girls standing in the windows.

"I'm surprised at how many Hispanic girls are here," Sandy said. "I would have thought Indonesian."

"I suppose if you want to do this, this is the place to come," Clarissa said.

"I can't believe they're all standing in the windows in skimpy lingerie!" Elizaveta declared.

As we walked around, my impression was that the prettiest girls were found on Trompettersteeg and Dollebegijnensteeg. Both Pete and I were propositioned by different girls, which amused everyone except Elizaveta, who was, at least in this instance, rightly outraged.

"Seriously?" she protested once we were out of earshot of the pretty blonde who had propositioned me. "Asking my husband to pay for sex when I'm standing right there?!"

"Men ALWAYS pay for sex," I teased. "She just cut to the chase and skipped the fiction!"

"What?!" Elizaveta exclaimed in outrage.

"The wedding rings were more expensive," I replied, continuing to tease her.

"If you are comparing me to a prostitute..." she exploded.

I laughed, "Not at all! I'm just saying that sex doesn't come for free!"

"Ain't THAT the truth," Pete said with a wink.

"Careful, Mister!" Sandy growled.

"You girls do realize," Clarissa said with a smirk, "that Mike and Pete have zero worries about teasing the two of you because they KNOW you won't cut them off, right?"

Elizaveta expressed her disdain with "Hmph!" and gave me one of her withering looks. I leaned over and kissed her forehead, which only intensified the look.

Our sightseeing done for the evening, we headed back to the hostel and went through our bedroom routines. After Clarissa turned out the lights, I repeated what I'd done the previous night. Elizaveta didn't protest, so I decided to be a bit more adventurous and pulled her nightgown up so I could press my fingers into her panties. I gently rubbed her to an orgasm, pressing my finger inside her just before she came. She moaned softly into the pillow, though with the ambient noise, I wasn't sure if anyone else heard. When I finished, I licked my fingers clean, we kissed, and quickly fell asleep.

June 12, 1985, Greater Amsterdam, the Netherlands

It turned out, as we discovered on Thursday morning, that tulip season was basically over, with the place we'd thought about going, Keukenhof, having already closed for the season. After some discussion, we selected a tour which promised a 'taste of Holland'. It was a bus tour which included Kinderdijk, Zaanse Schans, and Volendam, where we'd see windmills, and then a boat excursion on IJsselmeer, the former Zuiderzee, which had been enclosed with a dyke. The boat would stop at Marken, which was formerly an island, where we'd visit a cheese factory, see a demonstration by a traditional clog maker, and have a tour inside an antique, but working, windmill.

"I'm bummed about the tulips," Elizaveta said. "We missed them by about three weeks!"

"I wonder why the guidebook didn't mention that," Abby said.

"Good question," Sandy observed with a shrug.

"We'll be back about 2:30pm from this tour," Pete observed. "Any suggestions about what we do afterwards?"

"What about going to Delft?" Elizaveta asked. "Is that possible?"

"There's a tour that is similar to the one we're going on, which replaces the boat trip with a visit to Delft."

"How long does it take a train to get there?" I asked.

Abby looked at her timetable, "About an hour or so, but I think by the time we get back, get on a train, and get there, it would be close to 6:00pm, allowing for any delays and the train schedule. Do you want to change which tour we take?"

"Isn't it basically on the way to Brussels?" Sandy asked. "I mean, if it's an hour away, and on the way, even more or less, we could stop there, and it really wouldn't mess up our plans to get to Brussels and then to Paris, would it?"

"It's about four hours to Brussels," Abby said. "And then another three to Paris, roughly. If we work backwards and want to be in Paris by, say, 9:00pm, it won't really work. We'd have no time at all in Brussels. As it is, we're only going to have four or five hours."

"That sounds like we have an either/or decision," Clarissa observed. "Lizochka, would you prefer to spend the time in Delft or Brussels?"

"Delft, I think, if we could see the pottery factory. Supposedly, there are tours."

"I'm OK either way," I said, "but if you're counting votes, I'll do what Elizaveta prefers."

"Shocking," Clarissa mocked.

"I think I'd vote for Delft over Brussels," Abby said. "We were really only stopping in Brussels to say we did. And the train goes through there, and we have to switch, so maybe we have an early dinner in Brussels?"

"I like that idea," Pete said. "Sandy?"

"Sure."

"Then I think we have an agreement. Let's get our tour tickets!"