|Just your friendly neighborhood riot cops.|
Host mom and I were finishing up dinner when we heard the helicopter and chanting. I ran upstairs and grabbed my camera and we ran outside. We passed some people on bikes who had bandanas wrapped around their faces: squatters. A little further around the corner stood a platoon of cops in riot gear, vans, police dogs, the whole nice yards. The police were raiding a squat house (squatting is still ever-so-popular but now officially illegal here). A few journalists showed up as well as a camera man but, by this time, the squatters had booked it (only after throwing some firecrackers). I had heard the squatters say they were convening in Rembrantplein, the square a few blocks from my house. The other photographers there were being boring and dallying about, so I grabbed my bike and hauled it to the square as fast as my short little legs would pump. Anti-climactic: I got to the square and all was quiet. By the time I got back everything was being cleared up and the cops were putzing around. Apparently, it had been going on for a while and we caught only the tail end of it. Bummer. And then I went home and had chocolate mousse for dessert. Theeee end.