on the subject of casual sex/ on the casual subject of sex

When I was still in Canada, going through the seemingly endless preparations to come here, I would usually get thrown a knowing smirk when I told people I was going to be doing fieldwork in Amsterdam. The reason why? Ask your average North American (or possibly anyone else in Western Europe, or maybe even anywhere) what comes to mind when they think of Amsterdam, and you're probably going to hear two words: pot and prostitutes.

Well, soft drugs and legal sex-work may be the reason many tourists come to the city (especially if they're not keen on, you know, history or art), most Dutch people aren't really bothered about either. So, while there are sex shops everywhere (I live above one), and windows aplenty in the Red Light District, and a few scattered here and there across the rest of Amsterdam and other sleepier cities, I can't help but continue to be a little surprised (in spite of myself) at how casually sex slips into the everyday here. A few weeks ago I watched the classic Dutch war film Soldaat van Oranje with my roommates. The basic plot follows a group of university friends, who break apart as each follows their own path over the course of the war - from Nazi sympathizers and Jews either killed or caught in the middle, to Dutch war resisters and heros. As a North American used to seeing a particular treatment of wartime heroics (usually, approached with reverence, tied to patriotism, nationalism, and bravery, etc.), I have to say that I was surprised at how much nudity was in film about the Dutch resistance during WWII. A few examples: an early scene where a Dutch regiment stumbles upon some young lovers getting it on in the hay, who pause to laugh at the joke of being discovered instead of the Germans the regiment expected to find, and then pick right up where they left off; a Dutch woman who found it hard to keep her shirt on for the better part of the film, whether to cheat on her fiance or to distract an evil and creepy Nazi, those breasts were there; a British officer who inadvertently flashed the Queen of the Netherlands while enjoying a tryst with one of the Dutch heros... I'm sure all this stuff happens during wartime, but classic American war films don't tend to show it, making it a bit novel for me.

Anyway, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that a city like Amsterdam, in a progressive welfare state whose inhabitants are (generally) open about sex, is concerned about the sexual health of its residents in a similarly straighforward and routine way. My three flatmates and I all recently recieved letters from the City inviting us to be screened for Chlamydia. I asked my roommate about it, and she said it's a common test offered just about every year. The test is free, confidential, and organized through an online website. According to the site (and letter), chlamydia is the most common STD among sexually active people between the ages of 16 and 29, and so similar letters have been matter-of-factly sent to all people in this age category registered as a resident of the City of Amsterdam (and I think, also in Rotterdam). So, yeah. Sex. It's everywhere here. And no one seems to care.