For all its cache as the hedonist's Mecca, Amsterdam's De Wallen - its nefarious Red Light District, situated just north of the city centre - is about as edgy as an eraser.

Its once seedy alleyways have become sardine cans, bloated by families of bemused tourists by day and stag-dos by night, evoking Leicester Square on a summer evening rather than the hipster's Sodom; while the stores, coffee shops and parlours which flaunt temptation have been neutered by corporate investment, conveying mechanical punctuality and crowdsourced fantasy rather than manifestations of the id's frantically surfacing desires. If you could gentrify vice, this is it.

What's rarely raised in discussions about Amsterdam's qualities is its most vivid feature; its bustling multiculturalism. Since the end of the Second World War, the Netherlands and Amsterdam especially has proliferated a reputation as a quasi-utopia for both hard-working migrants and liberal progressives, where plentiful and meritocratic employment coagulated by pluralistic tolerance goes hand-in-hand with a flowering Arts scene and a citywide pervasion of contentment.

Almost half the city's population are immigrants, predominantly hailing from former Dutch colonies such as Indonesia and Suriname - but also including numbers of Turks and Moroccans who came over in the '60s and '70s, originally as guest workers. The migrant population burgeoned further in the '90s as Amsterdam absorbed an influx of asylum seekers from Iran, Iraq and Burma absconding political persecution. Over the last decade or so even the Netherlands has conformed to the hip European trend of ideologically shifting to the populist Right; as identified in the popularity of controversial anti-Muslim figures like Geert Wilders. Antithetical to the country's bubbling xenophobia, Amsterdam continues to defiantly celebrate its cosmopolitanism and its proudly inclusive traditions.

Oosterbar, and the Generator Hostels project at large (which encompasses eleven cities worldwide), responds to both issues articulated above. It's a considerate, collaborative integration with the local community - rather than the callous shock-and-awe approach of Airbnb, which simultaneously prices out residents and considerably amplifies gentrification for those who can afford to remain - and a deliberate amalgamation of multicultural initiatives.

Nestled quietly in one of the city's most diverse districts, on the edge of the apparently forever autumnal Oosterpark, Generator Amsterdam rests in a former zoological university. With luxury facilities and a wealth of neat flourishes - such as transforming the lecture theatre into an insouciant bar space - the accommodation represents a modern, tasteful hostel design, harmonising quintessential Amsterdam cool with its building's strikingly industrial aesthetic; but what strikes me most is its aforementioned enthusiasm for cosmopolitan socials and performances, mostly residing in its late night basement bar (previously, the boiler room).

The purpose of the enterprise is to nurture local and international creatives, to extend a window into Amsterdam's cultural multiplicity, ranging from singular events to distinctive regulars. Plans are in place to schedule poetry and comedy evenings, live acts, and world music revelries; and of course, club nights predicated on embracing the multiculturalism at the project's heart. Oosterbar's opening party exemplified this; the three DJs - FullCrate, Siroj and Turne - EDM, hip-hop and pop staples were interspersed with reggae, tropical house, and smatterings of African and Brazilian music.

The evening also fostered the introduction of the exhibition space, where community artists and designers could display and collaborate in the future; in complete darkness, a modern dancer shrouded in neon lights performed to a voluptuous 'Uptown Funk' remix, a resplendent ethereality battling the black miasma that was captivating. If this is symptomatic of future exhibitions, Generator could be onto something unique and compelling.

When cultural tourism, particularly in the inimitably diverse Amsterdam, is executed correctly it can be mutually beneficial; I guess you could call it responsible gentrification. Local artists and creatives are granted a platform (and financial opportunity) to demonstrate their work, while tourists profit from their exposure to an original and authentic experience, sometimes tranquil, occasionally challenging and provocative, always meaningful. Oosterbar and the Generator project appears meticulously organised, honestly passionate, and culturally conscious enough to pull it off.

If you're ever in Amsterdam and bored of the artifice offered by De Wallen, pop over to Oosterpark and Generator for either a decadent night that just feels more substantial, or a chilled night that just feels more true.