Semester at Sea Spring 2009

2009-03-14T07:20:00.000-07:00

Day 50-54 (Mostly 54): The Days Before Thailand: Something Unexpected

Having just gotten out of my last class before our 5 day weekend in Thailand I had felt different. We were discussing traveling vs. vacationing and were applying some of Aristotle’s theories of communication and rhetoric to our travels so far. Something has been different. After Mauritius, of all places, something changed. We are half way through our itinerary as of yesterday and I just couldn’t seem to figure it out. Something had changed. I had changed. Life wasn’t simple anymore. At college it is so easy for things to be simple. Yes, I have a job, I have commitments, and I value school but things were still extremely simple. It is easy to be happy there. I expected to feel different. I expected to change but what I didn’t expect is to realize that I was changing. I often can’t see the change in myself. After I got my tonsils out everyone said I sounded different. I sounded the same to me. People Facebook me and comment on how tan I am…I look pretty much the same to me. I see and deal with the newest version of myself on a daily basis and I never seem to really realize in the short term how I have changed. It is an intensely strange feeling to have the feeling that something in your core is different and you don’t exactly know how it morphed. Like I said, I didn’t expect to be unchanged by this experience. You would have to be soulless not to be but I find myself different. Life is no longer so simple. I don’t know if it is the constant reanalysis and continuous mindset of a traveler, like I’ve switch modes or something but looking in the mirror I see a different person. It’s terrifying to be completely honest. My teacher says that the difference between travel and vacation is that with travel you leave a part of yourself somewhere. I think this is what I am suffering from. I am leaving bits and pieces of my self in the hands of various people and in various places. On this ship it’s hard to refuel. It’s hard to regenerate and collect more of yourself to leave behind. I was draining myself…of myself. There is an imbalance. The parts of yourself that you gain from the people you love. The constant reassurance that this is how you act in this situation pretty much at all time. The things that create and define you and even rejuvenate and reassure you simply aren’t there anymore. You are left to fill it yourself. A harder task than you would expect. It’s not bad. Its growth, an uncomfortable growth but I suppose most growth is uncomfortable. I expected it to happen. I didn’t expect to watch it happening.

2009-03-14T07:16:00.000-07:00

Day 49: Fly Safe?

Awakened at 4 AM by the sounds of drumming, I was not quite ready to depart from my surprisingly deep sleep. I went back to bed to wake up a couple hours later. It was cool and calm. Katherine and I decided to head into the village for a morning walk.

As we exited the primary school to head into the village area there was a man. An older man with a scarf over his head. He had the most sincere and joyful smile on his face. He smiled at us as we walked towards him. Andrew asked if he could take a picture and he smiled. As Andrew showed him the photo he grabbed the top of his head were the scarf lay, amused at how it looked on him. While standing there simply smiling at each other an older woman approached me. She stared at me with blatant curiosity and then pointed to my eyes. “Oh yes they are blue” I said while smiling back at her. A red headed SASer with blue eyes approached our little group and she pointed at him too. I smiled and nodded. She smiled and nodded back.

We headed into the village a short while later. Surprisingly, there were quite a few people up but definitely not the mob scenes of yesterday. Women were beginning their daily chores: cooking, sweeping (they are really big on sweeping here), washing, and gathering water from a communal spicket. As we wondered the streets of the village we said good morning with a gracias lowering of our heads. Many would just smile.

We met a little boy who spoke very good English and would proudly proclaim words at random. As an old woman walked by and Katherine and I smiled he said “Yes, an old woman”, pointing. He would exclaim other things throughout our time in the village that morning. It was quite funny and he was very proud to use his English.

Now I have come to like goats a great deal since being here. I believe that they are the perfect domestic animal. They are small, generally clean, eat just about anything, are fairly quite but entertaining, and are friendly but not needy. The perfect animal. As we neared the end of our time in the village that morning I saw a woman bottle feeding a tiny baby goat. It was so cute and as we approached with the “awww” face she lifted the goat out and offered for me to hold it. I have never held a goat before and it was quite a nice experience. Its long legs dangled down and I was surprised out how clean it was. It was just a few days old and even still had it’s dried up umbilical cord…a little gross. As I stood there holding the goat she smiled and laughed and then handed me the bottle. It was a glass bottle with a rubber tip, something of my grandparent’s generation for sure. I fed the baby goat and boy was it enthusiastic! It went at that thing, truly insatiable. It even confused the bottle and my finger a couple times. Haha. After it had finished most of the bottle it began to cry. I kept trying to give it the bottle, thinking it was still hungry and it wouldn’t take it. Then it happened. The tiniest poop I have ever seen started to bead on to my ground directly below me. The baby goat was pooping on me! I put it down immediately, but gently. It just stood there like the new baby animals you see on the Discover Channel, legs in every direction. The woman who owned the goat laughed sweetly and sent someone to get me a little can of water for my hands. Despite this fecal experience, I still love goats.

We headed back to the primary school to get ready to leave. We wanted to get back into Chennai before traffic and we had about a 2 hour journey. We said our good byes and thank yous and gathered our things. Just as everyone was mobbing towards the school to say one final good bye I decided it would be a great opportunity to take a little run through the village. I grabbed Kat and we began to retrace our steps to the house of the man that had showed us his oxen the day before. I was surprised at how easily we remembered the village, it’s not small. We finally got back to his house. He wasn’t home. But as we peak inside to find his daughter that was shyly hiding in the picture the day before.

I quickly slip her a small wad of rupees. “For the roof” I gestured. She smiled. We ran away to catch the bus.

We loaded the buses and waved good bye to one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

We arrived back at the ship and Kat began to pack her things. I finished up my last minute packages to go home. It was so surreal that in a matter of a day she was going to be back at home. Back to Taco Bell and familiar people. It seemed far far too soon to ever think about that. A slight part of me was jealous that she would get to refresh with the people she loved but I wouldn’t miss this for the world, especially Thailand. As I helped her with her bag down the gangway and commissioned a cab I realized that India was over. These 5 days go so fast. We head for the post office for some last minute postcard madness and a magazine. The taxi driver dropped me back off at the port. I said my good bye and took the cab driver’s license plate number and cell phone number, exclaim “So I will talk to you when you get there?” in an over emphasized tone. A little trick learned from Mary Beth. We hugged. I was sad to see her go. My security blanket. I had to do this by myself now. Ah. Growth doesn’t hurt too bad right?

2009-03-14T07:05:00.000-07:00

Day 48: And Then India Hit Me

We rose bright and early and met in the Union. I was exhausted from the day before and I was shocked at how sore I was. We hopped on the bus for a little 2 hour ride. Sleep came easy, though I did find myself paranoid about the mosquitoes. Attempting to kill as many as possible between the window and the curtain.

We had not received an itinerary for the trip so everything was quite the surprise. After about a 2 hour drive we pulled into what seemed like a small commune. Clustered white cement buildings, all very simple. I was slightly confused, this didn’t look very villagey to me? Apparently it was a nursing center? The Delta Nursing Training center to be exact I believe. We were greeted by a group of older Indian men drumming. Children came out to meet us as we followed them to a small covered area. On the edges of the covered area were the popular flour designs that blessed the space. As we lined up you could see the most beautifully colorful design in the middle of the floor. We each took our turn and were given a jasmine garland (which smelled amazing), a blessing with a yellow paste that was put on our throats and then were offered these tiny sugar hard candies. The energy was amazing. We circled around this beautiful colored design in the middle the floor. It was intricately made out of colored rocks in some of the most vibrant colors I have ever seen. After everyone had been blessed we were escorted into a large reception area. We were seated around the periphery and watched as the primary school children entered and sat in the back. We were welcomed and told that they had prepared a performance for us. Little did we know that they had put together a whole production! There were a series of dances from all different age grades. Shockingly enough there were 2 and 3 year olds that had rhythm that I swear I will never posses. One of the dances was absolutely darling. They were about 3 and preformed in boy-girl pairs to the song Barbie Girl. It was absolutely darling. After quite the series of amazing dances we were escorted out to lunch but before that, we were given another lovely coconut straw combo to enjoy :). It was quite the buffet lunch of typical Indian food. I had to pee and for the first time was introduced to the Indian bathroom AKA a porcelain hole in the ground. I had been avoiding it for so long but the water I chugged had caught up with me and boy was it an experience. Not to mention that this bathroom had a million little frogs. Haha. I’ve never peed so fast in my life. We ate up and then were given time to hang out. We gathered around the nursing students, most of which were 19-26 and watched as they interacted with our fellow SASers. They preformed for us and attempted to get us to dance. Only to laugh at us. They wanted to know everything about our lives. When one of the girls was henna-ing Emily the nursing student asked what her boyfriend’s name was. She then asked what her father’s name was. She wanted to henna one or the other on Emily’s hand. We all found this quite amusing. She chose the bf and “Chris” still adorns her hand today. The women then went from group to group asking the boys why they weren’t married yet and why they couldn’t dance. It was so funny to see how giggly and excited they were. One tried on my large sunglasses and found them the most entertaining things ever. After a little dancing the nursing students wanted to play a game of throwball. Though first hearing this we had no clue what it was. But it was much simpler than expected as it was a game of merely tossing a tether ball over a volleyball net. The catch: the ball could not touch your body. This little catch was surprisingly difficult for our team to grasp. It was the US v. India throwball extravaganza! After almost losing the US came back and in the end the US had won one game and India another. There was no tie breaker as we needed to get to the village by night.

The village was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. We arrived just as the sunset was turning a burnt orange. From the windows of our vans we could see 4 elderly men in the traditional “man skirt” standing patiently, drums at their hips. Their weathered faces had a unique beauty you only see in National Geographic photos. Why don’t we value aging? On these people it was so beautiful. The drumming began. As we followed the drumming men we were greeted by 100s of people. All colors, gender, and ages collecting around us. We made two single file lines and everyone took their turns receiving another jasmine garland and a blessing in the form of this orange water that was throw all over us. A bindi was placed on our forehead. It was overwhelming, exciting, and every emotion at once. The drumming, the rhythm of the people, the excitement and the smiles, is it all real? We began our journey.

We followed the huge crowd of people. Only to find out that the villagers had never seen white people before, especially giants such as myself. They were quite entranced by my hair. Because the only words most of the people knew were “hello” and “what is your name” they would just stare at me. Reach their hands out and I would smile. They would stroke my head and then look at me and smile. I would smile back. If I have learned anything it is that smiling is truly universal. We made our way through the rather large village, every 10 feet amidst all the chaos of picture taking and shaking hundreds of hands we would stop. A woman with a brass bowl filled with orange liquid would remove the floating leaf topped 3 small white fiery coals. She would place the fiery leaf on the ground and then splash the liquid before our path. She would then bless us as we walked by with the remaining liquid. We would go through this ritual about 15 times before the end of the parade. As we made our way winding through the village in this huge mass I saw a pair of oxen. In need of a photograph I dragged Kat off the beaten path. A man appeared from behind a hut. He came out gesturing at his oxen. Slightly embarrassed about the photo now I continued to walk over. He smiled and pointed to his 2 oxen. He then gestured for us to come over and see his hut. They were rather large with palm and thatch roofs. Something out a village exhibit in a museum. A woman sat in front of the hut mashing dhal in a pot. It actually looked quite delicious. I smiled and she reciprocated. Then in a series of gestures we gathered that he had 4 kids to feed and that his roof leaked. We looked at each other. There were no words. No gestures. What do you say to that? To break the awkwardness I asked to take a photo. We showed them the photo and they were quite thrilled. We thanked them with a bow and scampered off to catch up with the group still weaving through the village. Jumping over goats we joined the rest of the group. People had become a lot less shy and had also learned the word “picture”. They would first ask your name and then for a photo. After they would wait to look at it and the giggling would begin. Women would approach asking you to take pictures of their children; they were most excited about having the young babies photographed. One woman after taking her photo looked at it and then gave me a huge hug. I was startled but thrilled. I have never experienced such a mutual feeling of goodwill in my life. They all had constant grins on their faces and some would just walk up, ask your name, and then run away giggling. It was the most darling thing ever. They were so happy. So willing and open. Maybe it was the mix of curiosity with the excitement of complete foreigners but they cared so much for us instantly. Women would walk up and hold your hand. They wanted to guide you, to help you learn. As it became dark we finished our parade through the city. I was covered in the orange liquid and experiencing a complete contact joy. It was amazing. Like going back in time.

After the parade through town we were lead back to a small area to eat and gather our things. We were lead to a medium size two story primary school where we were to sleep. A communal cement floor actually looked pretty good as I was completely exhausted. We were then informed that there was to be a show. We were guided to a stage and seated in a “special area”. The show began. It began with a man and a woman in very elaborate costumes that made them look like they were riding horses. They were also on stilts. Dancing in stilts, quite impressive! Strange but in a way really cool. The show was to include traditional dancing, fire breathing, acrobatics, fire dancing, and even the smashing of lemons with one’s head. A particularly interesting act was when a woman held her hands behind her back and then proceeded to pick up money with her eye lids. It was quite unusual. The performance went on for some time, it seemed that everyone’s child was to be a part of it. They were all quite marvelous. We ended the evening with a little rock out session. Everyone in the SAS trip got up on the stage and rocked out with 2 Indian locals. It was quite fun and they were entertained by our foot loose ways and complete lack of rhythm. After fighting off probably the largest swarms of bugs I have ever seen the performance ended. We said good night to the villagers and were escorted back to the primary school. We were guided to a tent area in the back and told to sit in a circle. We were to be “de-briefed” and participate in a little mediation. We were all given clay oil candles and told to focus on the flame. What had I really seen today? It didn’t seem real? How could this still be possible anywhere in the world? They were so happy with so little. What an amazing experience. It still hadn’t all hit me. Later that night as I lay on the cement floor of the primary school it was really happening. This trip was really happening. If there is anything I have learned is that it is so hard just to live in the moment.

2009-03-14T06:39:00.000-07:00

Day 47: Is That All My Sweat?

Today we were to be dropped off by our families for a group tour of some of the sights of Chennai and beyond. Because our homestay dad was the coordinator on the Rotary side, so he was actually going to come with us on the adventure. After about an hour we stopped at a little hotel for breakfast. We had this savory crepe-like item called Dosas. It came with all kinds of little spicy sauces and was stuffed with spiced potatoes. As usual, quite scrumptious. We drove about 2 hours outside of Chennai to Mamallapuram. The site is huge and holds three famous temples. As we exited the bus we were mobbed by people selling trinkets and postcards. As I attempted to politely decline and weave through the crowd I saw the one of the largest boulders I have ever seen in my life. It was just sitting on a slanting hilltop. It was apparently named the “butterball. As we approached the guide told us that the story of how thousands of men couldn’t move the rock and how it somehow just balanced on the rock face. Of course I climbed up the slippery rock face in sandals and took the “holding the rock up” picture. It was necessary. Getting down was another story. As I attempted to walk down I kept slipping. So I decided that my best plan of action would be to just slide down in my dress and all. The local children were quite impressed haha. We then walked to the next temple. At this point of the morning it was already about 90 and let’s just say that my people are not made for those temperatures. I was wilting. We arrived at the next temple and she told us that most of the temple was made out of one piece of rock I was quite amazed. Additionally, because the temples are made of stone they are much cooler and provide the most lovely shade, of course, in addition to being amazing. As we looked at the life size elephants and other animals carved out of the side of temple it really made you wonder how they made it so symmetrical. When doing that kind of work up close you can’t really take back a chip like you can re-paint a mistake in a mural. It was quite astonishing. In the area surrounding the temple there were goats and baboons scampering about which really gave it the India feel. There are SO many goats in India. They are EVERYWHERE! But I have come to realize that I actually really like goats haha. We loaded the bus and headed to the next temple about 10 minutes away. Right outside of the temple the Rotarians bought us all coconuts to drink and helped us barter with the locals. We entered the temple to find that it was a little different than the last. It was more a series of little temples with shrine areas inside. There was a large population of Indian school children and they would run by and gigglingly yell “HI!” and then laugh when you responded. I was surprised as to how many native Indians were at the site.

We loaded up the bus for the last time and headed to my favorite of all the temples. The shore temple. It was a good 100 degrees by this point in the day and the breeze of the coast was extremely refreshing. Off in the distance you could see this tall red stone temple on a backdrop of vibrant green grass and ocean. It was beautiful. It seems that even the grass is greener in India. No metaphor intended. As we made our way to the temple. As we wandered through the ruins it was interesting to see that so much of it was still so persevered and that you were allowed to interact with it fairly freely. Most of this temple, like the others had been made from huge single stone and must have taken quite an amount of skill and time to create. As we left the shore temple, we encountered another group of happy waving school children. Apparently we were quite the sight to be seen as everyone either stopped to stare or waved and said hello. But I suppose it makes sense. In the US and especially California we have all types and colors of people that we interact with on a daily basis. Here they really are a homogenous society. There is pretty much no non-Indian population and so us whities really stick out as foreign.

We left the shore temple and headed for our next destination, LUNCH! The bus pulled over about a half an hour in what seemed like the middle of no where. After a little walk we stood at the gate of a “friend of a friend’s” house. As one of the “employees” opened the gate for us we were greeted by a large colorful shrine. These little shrines were everywhere. In front of stores, on random street corners and in most homes. They were quite beautiful and so colorful. We were escorted into the backyard. The house was huge and right on the coast. It was apparently a friend of a friend’s weekend house and his wife was there to greet us. She was very nice and they had a little bar with drinks for us. This was probably one of the most amazing backyards I have ever seen. They had a cement 2 story gazebo with a staircase that spiraled around it. From the top you had the most beautiful view of the ocean. Also, they had the necessities like a man made stream and the most beautiful grass hills and sitting areas. We were truly being pampered. They served us a delicious dinner and we met their techno loving teenagers. One of which, captured our amazement with the story of how he was almost arrested for kissing a girl in public. He had to bribe the police officer…wow. After a little R&R and with full stomachs we said our thanks and headed for the bus.

Our last stop was the crocodile snake farm. Apparently there are a ton of these but this was the best, who knew? Graciously, the Rotarians had paid for everything and this was no different. We headed into this huge crocodile/snake park and directly in front of us lay 300 pairs of gazing eyes. All crocodiles. There were so many of them! We were given the opportunity to look but as we would quickly learn crocodiles don’t really do much…they kind of just sit there. Not the most entertaining of animals. After a short time we were lead into a snake area. We entered an area where there were 300 snakes held in large terracotta pots. According to the man in the pit, that didn’t seem too concerned about the 3 cobras attempting to strike him from behind, there are only 4 poisonous snakes in India. The most deadly could kill you in an hour and the least in 3 hours. Their job here was to extract the venom to create anti-venom and he did a lovely demonstration for us. The entire experience made me a little anxious.

We headed back out to the crocodiles and I even got to take a picture with a baby croc. It pooped on me. Haha. We got to watch a feeding and hear the jaw of the 16 foot crocodile snap the bone of the piece of meat it was throne. That was a spine chilling noise. The locals were very excited to talk and take photos with us. We felt like movie stars haha. It was getting late and we headed for the bus. Probably the dirtiest and the most disgusting I have ever felt in my life haha. The drive home was a grueling 3 hours with Chennai traffic. Straight after we got off the bus Krishna dropped Claudia and I off at the beauty parlor we had been at just the day before. We were there for our henna! Suddenly all the exhaustion and filth melted away as I was going to get an arm ‘o henna! The woman sat be on a blanket on the floor and started her work. For about an hour she never really paused as her vision seep out onto my arm and hand. I was amazed as to how she could just fabricate this in her mind. She drew the most beautiful peacock on my hand and an elephant that I kindly named Bob on the other side. They found it quite funny that I would name the elephant. Krishna’s aunt came to meet us and asked about our day. She said that after henna we were to return home and gather my things, grab dinner and then drop me off at the boat. I had to leave the homestay early because I accidentally overlapped times with another trip I had scheduled for the next day. When I told her about the trip she was confused. Both she and Krishna said that there was no such things as untouchables, much less untouchable villages. That they only claimed to be untouchable to get money. Krishna claimed that the only difference between people was differing levels of hygiene. An interesting sentiment.

Krishna complimented us on our henna and took us back to the house. I gathered my things as Krishna’s aunt came out of her room with two strings of jasmine and bobby pins to put them in our hair. She then placed a stripe of white dust across my forehead and said in the most sincere voice “It is for prosperity and luck, both of which you seem to have”. It was so sweet and I was really touched. In such a short time I had grown to like her so much. I said good bye to grandpa and she translated for me. He bowed his head and smiled a sweet smile and took my hand. He said something and she translated for me again “He says you looked very beautiful in your sari yesterday and that he is sad that you are leaving.” They were such sweet genuine people.

Upon mentioning that I wanted to quickly run across the street to the grocery store to grab some spices for my parents she volunteered to take me and held my hand as I crossed the street (you would like her a lot mom). The store was closing but she used her sassy ways and got us in. She helped me pick out a few key items, most of which I still don’t know what they are…and then we headed back. Krishna and I exchanged information and he presented me with a brass bowl. They just kept giving. They were such kind people. We loaded up and headed off to dinner. It was about 11 and we walked into the local restaurant and enjoyed some more dosa and egg masala. We ate off the traditional banana leaf, hands and all. Delicious as usual. We had passed an ice cream parlor on the way into the restaurant and I mentioned that I loved ice cream and despite denying needing any he had them send over a menu. I attempted to pay for the check. He wouldn’t let me. After finding out the ice cream parlor was still open we headed over and I had the most amazing sundae. Despite the fact that I had not been hungry the entire time in India, because I was constantly stuffed, I ate that ice cream in 3 seconds flat. They were amazed. We loaded up the car and headed for the boat. As we approached the gate, everyone got out to say their good byes. I was shocked as to how attached I had grown in the period of 2 days! I was very sad to be leaving Krishna’s aunt especially. She was so cute and fun to be around. We all hugged and I reminded them that if they were ever in California they were welcome to come stay with me. Krishna’s aunt pulled me aside and said “I love you and will miss you, please promise you will come back with your mother?” I said I would. Now we have to go back mom! They were not allowed to take us directly to the boat and made the 20 minute trek getting lost a couple of times. I arrived to the comfort and safety of the boat around 1 and was never happier to see a shower. Tomorrow: village.

2009-03-14T05:58:00.000-07:00

Day 46: Home to Stay

One thing India does not have a shortage of is mosquitoes. India has mosquitoes in the same way that the US has flies. Unfortunately, I forgot to take my malaria meds…oops…I think it will be fine. For the first time in my life I would rather have annoying flies pestering me than the present native bug. The mosquitoes were EVERYWHERE! Nasty. Just a little FYI.

I was extremely excited for my homestay visit as I had heard that it was an amazing experience and you gain so much more in seeing a culture through the eyes of an Indian local. I woke up a grabbed some breakfast. As I may have said before. Breakfast on the ship is quite delicious.

I met in the union with all the other homestay students. So thrilled for the impending experience I thought about the time that my family had Japanese exchange students when I was in high school. I thought about the language barrier and about how quiet and reserved they were. How one of them cried when my father gave her an artichoke for dinner. I wondered if I would be that uncomfortable. If it would be a similar experience or if conversation would come more easily with me and my family. As we loaded the buses I made a promise with myself to say to yes to everything. To try my best to be chatty yet polite and to remember that it might be a little uncomfortable but that it was a good experience. We were to meet our homestay families at the stadium and you could feel the anxiety and excitement. I had two friends coming on the trip with me, unfortunately neither of which was my assigned homestay partner, but it helped a little. The large bright green bus weaved through traffic in an attempt to impersonate a little rickshaw. We arrived at the stadium and were called off the bus in same sex couples. As my name was called I saw my partner rise. Her name was Claudia and she would turn out to be quite the chill lady. We were told that our family was the Krishna family. As we stepped off the bus we were introduced to a little Indian man with a lovely comb over. We shook his hand and introduced ourselves. He had a thick Indian accent but spoke pretty darn good English. It was just him and I assumed that his wife and possibly kids were at home. He kindly explained that he was the organizer on the Rotarian side and thus had to deal with a couple of things before we left. He wandered off to deal with the orphaned SASers and left me and my homestay partner to chit chat. She was from South Carolina and was a civil engineering student. Shockingly social and normal for a soon to be civil engineer (no offense to engineers of the world). She was very nice and very southern. After all the kids had been picked up our little homestay dad approached us and told us we were going to head home for some lunch. I was thinking to myself, “Wow this man cooks. That’s cool”. In the car we did our introductions and he gave us a little history of Chennai. He had been living there for most of his life and he appeared to work in finance. He proudly proclaimed that he had hosted more than 70 SASers since 1998. He was an old pro at this. He presented us with a little itinerary of what the usual SASers wanted to do and we agreed very excited for all the fun things he had planned for us: a little sari shopping, a little lunch, a Bollywood movie, and a couple of other fun tasks. Claudia then asked him if “his wife was at home?” He laughed and said he was not yet married because he hadn’t found the right person. Well…um that’s a little awkward…two girls are going to be staying with an Indian bachelor…? As nice as he was, the thought made me a little uncomfortable.

As we made our way to the other side of Chennai, Krishna used the same method of weaving, honking, and braking. Apparently it wasn’t just the rickshaws that were seemingly suicidal. It was EVERYONE. I was shocked as to how many giant cows and goats just roamed about. Just chilling. No one really seemed to own them and no one really seemed to care. The norm I suppose. After about 15 minutes we pulled up to a small apartment complex. Krishna parked his little Honda civic and we were met by a weathered smaller man that appeared to guard the gate. He looked at us oddly and then let us in. I smiled and he smiled back sweetly. In front of the house was a design in flour. It was an intricate but simple, a flower design. This design was redone every morning in front of the house to bring prosperity and good will to the household and its guest. What a lovely concept. Plus it added a decorative beauty to the outside of the home. These little flowers were found in variations in front of most buildings and home. I took off my shoes outside of the simple apartment door and Krishna escorted us in. To my surprise a small shrunken man was sitting on the couch watching TV and behind him a woman in her 50s was bobbing in and out of the kitchen. The old man stood as we entered and I stuck out my right hand to introduce myself. My hand stood there suspended in the air. The old man just looked at me. The gold and red bindi on his head and the confusion in his eyes, I took my hand back and smiled. He smiled back. Krishna then introduced us to his aunt. She would turn out to be one of my favorite people out of the entirety of the trip so far. She was an older but had a fun sass to her. She shook my hand and introduced her self. Krishna then explained that he lived with his grandfather, father, and his aunt. BUT OF COURSE. Indians live with their extended family. Feeewwww, that made me feel a lot better. He motioned for us to sit on the couch and we took a seat. It was a smaller apartment that apparently they had just upgraded to but a few months before.

The television immediately caught my attention. The little old man was completely glued to it. It was an old Bollywood movie with some of the most entertaining special effect. It was about this little boy, that wore the most fantastic eye liner, and how he was protected by God and no one, not even his father the king, could hurt him. He had the cutest high voice and something about the movie was down right entrancing. A nice little intro to daily living. After mild conversation with Krishna we sat down to a scrumptious lunch. Krishna’s aunt had prepared quite the meal for us and they had even gotten sweets from the best sweet shop in India for us to try. Apparently they start with the sweets and boy are they sweet. First was this mini funnel cake thing and within all the little funnels were sugar syrup. You want to talk diabetes? Then came this chewy yet shockingly spicy goo ball. It was good but not as delicious. We washed our hands and then were served by Krishna’s aunt. Krishna explained that because he and his family were believers in Jainism that they were vegetarians. We told him that was completely fine and he smile. First was the side dish, spicy potatoes, followed by 2 kinds of chili “gravy” on rice, and Indian pizza (flat bread and sauce). For the first time since childhood, I dug in with my hands. Some how it actually seemed to make the food taste better. It was kind of fun to mush it all around and have a little socially acceptable food play. How I have missed those days. Haha. Krishna laughed as I scooped the food into my mouth, still new to this whole hand-utensil experience. The food was absolutely delicious! I just kept eating and eating and his aunt just kept piling it on my plate. I have never been so full in my entire life. My partner had never had Indian food before and was a little overwhelmed by the entire experience. They seemed slightly insulted and didn’t quite understand that she was just overwhelmed by the simultaneous flavor explosion. Food in the US, you get one or two flavors at once, max. India you have to process 20 at once. We finished it off with some homemade yogurt and a little sugar on top. Delicious.

After lunch we head over to a little produce store on the corner. I could barely walk I was so full. But Krishna said we had to try this fruit juice. We walked up to this little bar and I ordered a mixed fruit juice and the watermelon (He said the cups were small. He lied. Haha). We watched a fairly dirty teenager place fruit into a juicer and then into a communal blender that probably hadn’t been cleaned in months. Haha. They blended it up Jamba Juice style and handed us the cup. It was very good. Fresh and delicious. Unfortunately, I was so darn full it was more forcible drinking then pleasant. I joked with Krishna “No more food. You’re going to kill me”, he laughed.

We went back to the house to hang out for a bit. Indians are not a fast moving people (well on the road: yes, in the daily life: no) and surprisingly there was little urgency in getting anywhere. We sat and watched the movie for a while longer, a smile permanently attached to my face. I was in India!

After about an hour of just chilling, Krishna’s aunt reappeared in a beautiful teal sari and told us she was going to “make Indians out of us”. She was to take us sari shopping. Little did I know but this was going to be quite the undertaking. We headed to Pondy market and straight into a mini department store. All the locals gave us strange looks as we headed for the back. There were SOO many saris. It was completely overwhelming. I told her kind of what I wanted and they just started pulling them off the shelves. I was completely overwhelmed. They pulled sari after sari and before I could even say anything they had pulled and unfolded another 10! The colors, the fabric it was all breathtaking. I had already bought a fancy one so I wanted a more every day one and found a teal one that suited me quite well. I got another simpler one for my mom as well. I thought that was it. But after hours of looking we headed down stairs for the little top that goes under the large fabric sheet. Here there were hundred of small tops in all colors and sizes. You hand your sari to the women behind the counter and she matches the color for you. When I went to go try on the little top the fitting women attempted to squeeze me into this tiny size. After finally buttoning it she looks at me and says “good fit” with a smile. Is she crazy I could barely get it on! Haha. I asked for a larger size and she brought it with a little reluctance. Claudia and I were having quite the bonding experience in this tiny little stuffy dressing room. It was great fun! :) I was completely exhausted by the time we had gotten everything! It was quite the endeavor…who knew?

After purchasing 2 saris and all the accessories for a mere 30 dollars we headed for the beauty parlor. The common Indian woman doesn’t really properly know how to fold a sari so many go to beauty parlors on special occasions. The rotary dinner that evening was a special occasion so off to the parlor we went!

The parlor looked like any little small town beauty shop and the women greeted us with smiles. They took our shopping bags and led us back to a little room. Sheltered by a curtain, they unraveled our new saris and began the elobrate dressing process. Who knew it was so darn complicated!? There was pleating and wrapping and turning and pinning like I have never experienced before! Finally after the fabric was correctly twirled and pleaded I was lead out to a small mirror. I looked quite dashing if I do say so myself, like I was wearing a Halloween costume but dashing nonetheless. It was fun to play dress up again. While Claudia got her hair braided I sat with Krishna’s aunt and watched her interact with the other women in the parlor. She had quite the sassy head bobble and I had grown quite fond of her over the course of the day’s activities. It was like home beauty shop talk. I, of course, don’t speak Tamal BUT the body language of gossip is pretty universal haha. After we had finished we made an appointment for the henna for tomorrow and took a picture of the ladies’ fine work. I, of course, towered over all the women and they thought this was quite hilarious. As we headed out we said our good byes quickly as we were going to be late for the rotary party. We were to be having dinner and attending a rotary meeting as a part of our visit here. Let me tell you. Saris are really not as comfortable as you would expect them to be. They are quite warm and I got mine caught at every opportunity. It was becoming such a problem that every time I got in the car Krishna would ask if my sari was stuck in the door or in the car with the rest of me haha. As we arrived at the rotary meeting we walked in the room and realized that we were the only 2 girls wearing saris…a little awkward. More would come later, which eased the awkward stares from our fellow SASers. The women of the other homestay families would come up to us and tell us how beautiful we looked and that we were real Indians now, with accompanying giggle of course. They were quite amused at our attempt to “fit in”. With all the homestay families in attendance they began the meeting. As any of you that have ever been to a rotary meeting know, they are fairly technical and, to an outsider, not all that interesting. They described how honored they were to be a part of the SAS program. The two interport students spoke, they were picked up in Maurtius and gave lectures on the boat until India, about their experiences. There was a formal part and then a lot of photos. They presented us all with the autobiography of Ghandi and a large pearl garland. The meeting even included a traditional dance which was gorgeous. Their music is so darn happy here. And they don’t mind it really loud and really high pitch which I found interesting. After the meeting concluded we head to the back of the room for dinner. It was buffet style with a selection of curries, masalas, and all kinds delicious food. I was still full from lunch but grabbed a little of everything as I think it is a crime to resist good food. We sat down and chit chatted with some of the rotary members. One man approached me and asked if I went to UC Davis. As I said yes a large grin came across his face and he immediately walked away…strange. He came back a few seconds later with what I would find out was his daughter and excitedly exclaimed that she had applied to UC Davis for next year and they were anxiously waiting the reply in March. Apparently he had lived in San Jose for a couple of years but moved back to India because of the financial strain. He was now looking to send his daughter to college in the US and then on to medical school. A series of college related questions followed and I handed his daughter my email and told her to contact me if she decided to go to Davis and I would gladly show her around. I can’t even imagine transferring schools much less transferring countries. She was a brave soul and so was her father for taking on the financial burden of a US university.

After a truly exhausting day I was not disappointed when my homestay mom asked if we were ready to go. I took a couple more pictures in my fabulous sari and then we headed for what I thought was going to be home. Turned out we were heading to Krishna’s old neighbor/friend’s house. It was a larger house and we were graciously invited inside. The old neighbor was a chemical engineer that had worked in the oil fields of the Middle East and had decided to move back to India. As we all sat in the living room Krishna explained the basic outline of our journey and the family was quite impressed, still not completely able to grasp the enormity of the program. They had a daughter that spoke excellent English and Claudia and I spent most of the evening speaking with her. It was funny. Krishna wanted to show us off. Every where we went we were quite the spectacle and he was more than happy to claim us as his homestay kids. It was fun. After discovering that I wanted to make a call home Krishna and his friend lead me into a back office. He said his daughter lived in Florida and that he used this thing called a “magic jack” to call her for the same rate as a local Indian call. It was amazing! I got to talked to my mom for awhile and Krishna even said hello to her. After that it was about 12:30 so we headed home. I crawled on top of my very umm…firm…bed and pretty much fell right to sleep. A very good second day in India.

2009-03-14T05:17:00.000-07:00

Day 45: The Land of Bobble Heads

Previous to every country we are given both a cultural and logistical pre-port to prepare us for the impending country. India was by far the longest. Often these pre-ports are to install some sort of preparation for whatever nation we are about to enter. Many times they use fear as the main means to do so. India was no different. We were told that we were undoubtedly going to get traveler’s diarrhea, probably going to taken advantage of, and would be completely overwhelmed. I found only the last to be true. Everyone tries to prepare you for India but unless you experience it you don’t understand.

As we docked I was mentally preparing myself for the poverty, for the smells, and for the filth that I heard so much about. After all meeting in Tymitz Square, Jane, myself and a group of girls all stepped off the boat. As we walked passed armed customs guards, a sense of unease definitely started to fester. Things were going to be different. Once again it was an industrial area and the port its self was filthy. Everything was covered in this oily black coal soot, a dust that would soon turn my legs black. We were bombarded by rickshaw drivers and were completely overwhelmed. We wanted to take a taxi as then we would be less likely to get separated as there was 6 of us and the rickshaws were notorious for taking you to the wrong place. It was a cool 95 degrees as we walked 20 minutes to the port gates. Our shore passes were checked for a second time. The customs official stared up at my suspiciously but I barely noticed as I could not take my eyes of the large gun casually slung over his shoulder. This port had surprisingly high security. We wondered outside the gates to hordes of rickshaws and taxis all lined up in perfect rows. After talking with a couple of drivers we found a little old man that said he could fit all 6 of us into his cab. He could. Not really comfortably but it was better than getting separated. As we drove away, it happened. The chaos. Traffic is nuts. People are nuts. There is no such thing as a lane, the horn is your new turn signal, people will sometimes drive the wrong way into on coming traffic, stop signs are useless, and the only way to get where you want to be is to speed and get literally inches from the car next to you and then weave. I was surprisingly calm throughout the entire experience. You have to put a little faith in the driver; they know what they are doing. But I have never seen such complete chaos. As we made our way to the mall, we got to see a bit of Chennai. The colors. People wear the most vibrant beautiful colors. It truly made me happier to see the bright greens and neon pinks. I looked down at my own outfit of white shirt and olive green and thought to myself, why are Americans so afraid of color? We passed by fruit stand after fruit stand. Each containing the most delicious looking fruit. Hundred of watermelon stacked in piles and bright yellow bananas hanging from the stand’s corners. The streets were lined with tons of people and there was a vibrancy to it all that I hadn’t really expected. It was in India!

We were dropped off at the Spencer Plaza mall and we spent the day weaving in and out of sari shops, jewelry stores, and craft stores. The sari shops were beautiful. You walk in and there are just shelves and shelves of folded and neatly packaged saris. The vibrant pinks, blues, and yellow just make the store so attractive. A girl, probably 15, came over and began to help me. She started to pull sari after sari and unfolded it to reveal the most amazing beadwork. I ended up purchasing a sheer magenta one with gold and silver beadwork. One of the most beautiful things I have ever bought. And practical too. Haha. After a little more shopping we headed up to the food court. Yes the mall food court. They had a Pizza Hut (tempting), an Indian place, a hot dog place and then this little sit down noodle place. You can’t really go wrong with noodles so the 6 of us headed for Noodle City. They had quite the noodle selection and I got these delicious sweet and sour noodle. Scrumptious. After lunch we headed back out into the mall and stopped at a couple more shops, picking up some scarves and other trinkets. Truly a lovely mall. It was so large it had sections one and two! We decided that we wanted to go to a more traditional market and I was told that the Pondy Bazar was the best. So we headed outside for a little heckling and found a rickshaw driver that would meet our price. We fit 5, yes 5 people in a tiny little rickshaw. It was hilarious and couldn’t move very fast. Everyone was honking and swerving past us as we attempted to climb a small hill on what seemed like a freeway. I was surprised at how clean the streets were. Our rickshaw driver said that they swept them at least twice a day and you could see the women on the sides of the road with large grass hand broom and baskets diligently at work. I was also surprised to find that it didn’t really smell. Some parts smelled like amazing food and spices, others of incense. But none really reeked of anything. Maybe this was more of a characteristic of northern India, more in the capital. We finally arrived at the bazaar. It wasn’t exactly what I expected. Venders were selling Indian style bangles, all types of tennis shoes, a strange assortment of tupperware and knickknacks, and traditional Indian dress. There was not a postcard in sight and the bazaar was definitely more target towards the local population. It was nice not to see any SAS kids there though and to wander around and see the local happenings. Garlands are big here and many of the women sit on mats and make jasmine and other flower garlands. Jasmine is often worn in the hair. As we walked through the bazaar we observed the people. They all do this little bobble head motion when they are listening to you speak. At first I thought it was them saying “no” or “maybe” but then I realized that everyone does it just to show they are listening. It is by far one of the most entertaining cultural ticks that I have seen so far. It still makes me smile to see the merchants head bobble back and forth as we discussed prices. I purchased a couple little things but we were all fairly exhausted. Between the heat and the chaos, you would be surprised as to how much energy just leaks out of you. So we decided to hop a rickshaw back. We decided to treat ourselves and take 2 rickshaws this time. We made it very clear to the drivers that we would like to stay together. They did a shockingly good job of this. Such a good job that while driving probably 30 miles an hour they held what looked like a pretty cohesive conversation. They seemed to pay little attention to the road as the chit chatted back and forth about who knows what. We hit a fork in the road and our rickshaw went right while the other went left. We pulled over immediately, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. Apparently we had gone the wrong way and our driver hopped out. We tried to ask him what was going on as cars swerved around us but he couldn’t really communicate it to us. He got out and pushed the rickshaw back to the fork where we had made the wrong turn. Apparently rickshaws don’t have a reverse haha. We made our way back to the ship and I was happy to shower after an extremely long and sweaty day. I am very excited for my homestay tomorrow! But so far I am loving India.

2009-03-14T05:16:00.000-07:00

Day 41, 42, 43, 44: Class

This week was a series of midterms and classes. Nothing too exciting. I do a fair amount of academics, mom. It just isn’t that interesting to write about haha. Just the usual.

2009-03-01T04:04:00.002-08:00

Day 40: My bed, my sanctuary

Much to my abundant glee today was the first day I have spelt in in over a month. That’s kind of sad. But though it was the sea Olympics I decided it was more important to monopolize on our first real day off. Thus no alarm. I awoke at the ungodly hour of 1:30 PM. We grabbed a smoothie and hung by the pool. As I looked out at my fellow SASers baking in the sun I asked myself “I am really getting credit for THIS?”But alas I was. College is a magical experience. The day was filled with various competitions between all the seas. I watched the mashed potato sculpting contest. Who knew that mash potatoes were such an effective artistic medium? Two groups built Taj Mahals and the rest were generally surprisingly impressive. They also had other events such as water flip cup (intense) and synchronized swimming. In general, our sea didn’t do so great…But it was fun to get that final reassurance that this is in fact camp as well as to have a day off. Nothing else really special occurred. I slept some more. I am a surprisingly good sleeper

2009-03-01T04:04:00.001-08:00

Day 39: Mauritius: Land of the DoDon’t

So I was thinking about this and up until this point I have taken so many modes of transportation. I am truly amazed. Let me break it down for yah:

Sea:
Ship-SAS Ship to be specific
Water Taxi
Raft
Shark Tugboat thing

Air:
Plane

Land:
Hiking/On foot
Biking
Taxi
Bus
Combi
Train

That’s a pretty substantial use of all available transportation systems if you ask me.

Anyway about Mauritius. What a BEAUTIFUL place. The island is fairly small and right off the coast of Madagascar. It is green and lush and is a large sugar exporter. Mmm sugar.

We arrived in Port Louis at around 8 AM and after the diplomatic briefing headed off the ship into the extreme heat of the beautiful island. Apparently India is going to be 10X more hot and humid so we will see how I handle that. But we head off the boat and directly to these water taxis on the pier. The easiest way to get to downtown was across the harbor via water taxi. It was a fun little cultural experiences shuffling all hot and sweaty in to the dirty little boats. We headed across the harbor and got our first real view of the island. Boy is it gorgeous. We exited the taxi on to a little make shift dock and headed into the waterfront area. There was a small mall and not a lot was open as it was about 10 AM. Too early for the islanders. We headed through the mall just to look around and price stuff out before we went to the ATM. A Dodo figuring was 200 Mauritian Rupees. The exchange rate is about 35 Mauritian Rupees to 1 USD. Let me tell you a little bit about the Dodo. It is a large pigeon that got too fat and then adapted so it could no longer fly. When foreigners brought predators onto the island, the native Dodo went extinct. Apparently this is Mauritius’claim to fame as they put the darn Dodo on everything! We’re talking beach towels, figures, food products, scarves, tapestries, sandals all Dodo-ized! You name it; they have imprinted the extremely unattractive Dodo on it. It’s actually quite funny. I must admit I joined in the mania and bought a Dodo keychain. I like it quite a bit.

Anyway, we arrived in Port Louis and after wandering around the waterfront shops for a bit we headed downtown. We had absolutely no orientation to the city and just kind of wandered were there were large crowds. We walked through a couple markets and passed street venders selling a variety of fruits, vegetables and herbs. It all looked absolutely delicious. The fruit here is by far the most remarkably delicious looking substance. Unfortunately, it may be fresh but not really so clean. So no street fruit for me. We wandered about downtown. It was surprisingly dirty and we were the only two white people in the area. Mauritius has a huge Indian population. Almost everyone is Indian. In general, I believe the city is a replica of India, or what I believe India would look like. I suppose I will be able to compare it for sure soon. But we walked about. Generally speaking, there was little to do. Few shops to go into and not really a lot to see. We decided it would be best to flag a cab and complete our second thing on the list: the beach. We flagged down a good looking cab and told him we need to get Kat a large suitcase and then we wanted to go to the most beautiful beach on the island. He spoke a fair amount of English and about the same amount of French. As we drove out of town it was interesting to see the more “island-y”part of the island come out. We passed lush green fields and beautiful mountain views. After about 15 minutes we pulled up to a huge store called Jumbo. It reminded me a great deal of a Super Walmart and we walked in searching for a body-bag-sized piece of luggage. We were successful and I even got Anh a very lovely birthday card. Our cab driver had come in with us to help us find everything and after the purchase we all made our way out to the hot sweaty cab. The way that the driver managed this heat was with a large orange rag that he would wipe his face and head with and then throw on the dash. An interesting new cooling system. He said that the most beautiful beaches were in Gran Baei. It was about 40 minutes away but we had all day and decided to do a little exploring. We agreed on a reasonable price and headed out. The drive was gorgeous. The endless green sugar cane and the lushness of the island in general could even out do the prettiest parts of Hawaii. After driving through small towns, we started to hit the beach. Wow. Was it a beach or what. Beautiful white sand and absolutely crystal blue water. After mentioning that it looked like a picture. He said “Oh picture!”and pulled over so that we could take a photograph. Nice man. He would make the list of the top ten cab drivers of the trip though South African Nevell is still number 1 currently. We took some photos and continued our journey. He took us to a large tourist beach with the same white sand and breathtaking views and asked if we wanted to “swim a bit before Gran Baie?”we respectfully declined and asked to continue to our destination. As we got into Gran Baie we realized this was the more touristy part of the island. It reminded me a lot of Honolulu, with little commercial restaurants and O’Neil surf shops. It was a lovely area. He took us to a little beach on the other side were there were only a few people. A couple of the SASers. We laid on the beach and tried to absorb the view, as no picture does it justice. It’s simply paradise. We headed for the water which was a cool 80 degrees and despite my extreme fear of the little white fish I jumped into to the 2 foot water and swam out. We bobbed up and down in the waves enjoying the prospect that our friends and family were probably still experiencing the misery of Northern California winters. Sorry guys. After an active swim/float sesh we headed back to the cab in search of some food. It has incidentally become tradition that we just rent a cab driver for a day. We find a friendly trustworthy cab driver with a decent vehicle and just inadvertently end up just keeping them throughout the day. It turns out to be less expensive and normally it is their idea to tour us around and wait for us at every destination. Our new friend was no different. We asked him if we could go into town to grab and bite and he happily obliged. As most of the island is Indian we were in search of some good Indian food and he dropped us off at the “Dolphin Restaurant”a couple of minutes off the main drag. We were both starving by this point and ordered what would turn about to be some darn good chicken curry and French fries, of course. After a delicious lunch we grabbed some postcards and a few other minor Dodo related souvenirs at a little stand just down the street and hopped in the cab to our next adventure. Kat worked her French magic and we asked about the supposedly “most amazing pineapple”. The driver laughed and said “no problem”. We pulled up to this little fruit stand and he yelled to the guy who owned it. He asked if we wanted 1 or 2 and we handed him our money and he ran over and grabbed them for us. Once again. Very nice guy. He came back with a mini pineapple cut into 2 pieces covered in this red chili sauce. The big thing here is to put chili sauce on all types of things fruit included. It was super spicy but by far some of the best pineapple I have ever had. He then said he wanted to take us to a “locals”beach not far from where we were. It took about 10 minutes and we arrived at a little beach with boats docked about 15 feet out into the water. From the beach you could see a cliff and the mountains. Once again. Absolutely beautiful. He took our picture and he noticed that I was collecting rocks. He walked along the shore as we took pictures of the beach. He came back about 5 minutes later with a small handful of shells and stretched his hands out to us, giving us the shells he had collected. A little piece of Mauritius. Having talked for most of the cab ride we had really bonded with this little Indian cab driver. It is amazing how much a good cab driver can bring to your experience. We then asked if it would be possible to stop for a little while longer at the first beach we had gone to about 20 minutes before getting into Gran Baie and he was more than happy to take us there. We did a little sunbathing and a little more swimming. Relaxing is something that I have surprisingly not been able to grasp very well while in ports. We normally have such a short time available and so much to see that relaxing is not really an option. It was actually hard just to lay there but after I completed my postcards I started to get the hang of it. Haha. I know. What a huge problem, right? It was getting a little late and we decided after about 2 hours on the beach it was time to drive back to the boat. As we were driving back through the little towns he showed us the suburban and other local areas. He asked us if we liked sweets. I, of course, bellowed out “YES!”and he pulled over a couple of minutes later at a little shop on the side of one of little buildings. He hopped out and said he would just be a minute. He came back with a little white bag full of Indian treats and though some of them tasted a little funky it was probably the sweetest thing ever. He then pulled up about 30 seconds later to another little shop and hopped out of the cab again and came back with another little bag. These ones were ABSOLUTELY delicious. I felt bad for Kat because I definitely ate pretty much all of them. They were little petal shaped shortbread cookies with a layer of jam covered in different fruit flavored frosting and they were SO good. We thanked him profusely and headed on our way. Incidentally, I started taking a picture of some women selling mango out of a jar and he goes “Oh do you want some mango, I can pull over!”I said “Oh no I was just taking a picture but thank you.”We all chit chatted the entire way back and after some minor rush hour traffic made it back to the waterfront though he said he would take us back to our boat if we liked. As we said our good byes I was actually kind of sad haha. He was so eager to make our experience fantastic. I really wanted to nominate him for Mauritian taxi driver of the year or something but apparently no such award exists. I’ll have to work on that next time I’m here.

There was little open at the waterfront and we grabbed some naan at little Indian to-go place. Delicious. I can’t wait for India. And then headed for the water taxis and home to the ship. Covered in salt and disgusting, we headed in after a great jammed packed day of Mauritius fun.

Tonight was also the opening ceremonies for the Sea Olympics. Some people on this boat are crazy. That mixed with Mauritian alcohol lead to an insanely loud chaotic almost riot like opening ceremony.

Oh by the way Sea Olympics are these different little competitions that they have tomorrow in which each floor, which is assigned a different sea (Kat and I are the Baltic), battle it out against different seas for a title. Such events include mash potato sculpting, tug-o-war, pictionary, a spelling bee, and much more. That’s tomorrow. Should be interesting to say the least. If it is anything like the insanity of the opening ceremony tonight I better wear a helmet.

2009-03-01T04:04:00.000-08:00

Day 36, 37, 38: Boat, Boat, Boat

The last three days have been spent recovering from the lack of sleep induced fatigue of the extreme sports madness.

Not much has been going on though I have gotten more accustom to shipboard life. The seas have been rough but I believe God has taken pity on me as I have only encountered minor sea sickness. Overall, we have been dealing with a lot of midterms and tests. It is amazing how much more difficult it is to study on a boat. Some how all motivation just goes out the window. I mean there is little else to do but it is still a difficult task to just sit down and get to it. This stretch has gone by much faster and for this I am thankful. I am also extremely excited for India and the rest of Asia. Wooo Asians.

Some bad news. Kat got a phone call a couple of days ago. After her mom had been feeling under the weather she went to the doctor. They found a rather large advanced tumor on her intestine; they don’t know whether or not it is benign. After speaking with the oncologist, Katherine has decided to go home right after India. She is intending to return the first day in Vietnam. Rebecca (Kat’s mom) is quite the trooper and continues to make plans for her impending trip to Hawaii to meet us in a couple of months. For those of you that pray or those of you that don’t, I ask you to send positive thoughts her way. Every little bit counts.

2009-03-01T04:02:00.002-08:00

Day 35: Great and white…yes I am

After getting to bed around 2 you can imagine my excitement to rise at 4:30 AM to leave the boat to get on another boat. After peeling myself from bed we met our guides at the bus and hopped on. The trip was incidentally all SAS kids and of course some had simply chosen to not get up or come. As we were about to leave 3 party goers, still up from the night before, ran towards the bus and boarded just in time. They were in for a really rough day. We began our 2 hour drive down the coast, in which yet again I slept the entire way. I woke up just as we were pulling into the docking area and at first glance of our boat I became a little concerned. It was a tiny little boat with a small deck on top and what looked like seating for 10. I soon learned that if you have problems with sea sickness on a big boat, the smaller the boat gets the more exponentially sea sick you get. Additionally, the water was pretty choppy and when heading out our little boat caught some serious air. Our toothless captain was quite the renegade. As we sat on the observation deck, all of us attempting to figure out why keeping our eyes on the horizon would help us any, we listened to our lumberjack-looking guide tell us about the sharks in the area. He then told us that it was not the “proper”time for sharks to be out in this particular part of South Africa and that with the little surface wind we may not see any. We sat on the small boat for about a half hour before we saw our first shark, record time for the season. We all got all geared up as others were making their contribution to the bait (throwing up overboard) and those that had been partying the night before felt the wrath the sea even more intensely. I was in the second group to go in. The water was absolutely freezing! About 50 degrees but the good thing is that it pretty much knocked both the breath and the sea sickness out of you. The crew would throw in a line of bait and taunt the shark near to the cage. They left us in their for about 20 minutes and I saw a baby, about 8 feet long, a big papa, about 12 feet long. Boy was the papa HUGE. At one point the bait was right in front of me and when the guy up above moved it there was the 12 foot Great White shark staring right at me heading straight for me, I believe the term that the kids are using is “badass”. The water was a bit merky and after I got out I got some prime footage. I was amazing to see the sharks arc out of the water just like in the pictures. And boy are they terrifying looking. I thanked the lord that I hadn’t seen Jaws or I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it. Truly a once in a lifetime opportunity that I would love to do again. Family vacation maybe? The guide was amazed at the turn out of sharks, we were very very lucky. Three other SAS trips had gone out and seen nothing. We saw 4 but everyone I had talked to said this was the best company in the business. They were definitely right. After the last shark completely snatched the entirety of the bait, rope included, we head back to shore. As Borat would say, “Great success!”After the 2 hour drive home we headed straight for an internet café to upload pictures and tie up loose ends before leaving. South Africa was truly an extreme experience. I am completely exhausted and plan to sleep away the next week but I could not be more pleased with my experience here.

2009-03-01T04:02:00.001-08:00

Day 34: Extreme Sports: Sad Attempt 2

We woke up bright and early, a theme that I still haven’t quite gotten used to, and headed for Tymitz Square to meet up with Lindsey and a couple of other for our biking/wine touring adventure. We hopped a cab to Long Street, incidentally our cab driver was yet again Frank of Frank’s Cabs, and were dropped off at Lola’s coffee house. We met our guide Dylan, an attractive young man a little older than us with blonde shaggy hair. Apparently, he is also Namibian so that was cool too. He was a very punctual fellow and we left at exactly 8 to walk to the train station. The train station was integrated into dirty mall and, generally, looked as you think an African train station should appear. We stopped at a small stand that sold meat pies (no thanks) and they grabbed some coffee. I’m trying to quit haha. I was still pretty exhausted from the activities of last night and right after we boarded the dingy train I went right to sleep. The train ride was about an hour and for the last half we had a nice little conversation with 2 young boys in their last year of high school. They were going out to the area for the day and had many questions about us as students and the US in general. One had lived in South Carolina for a bit and it was fun to hear about their aspirations and goals for the future. The other boy, sporting quite the mangled smile, wanted to be a civil engineer.

After departing the train we walked about 15 minutes up the hillside to a little white building. Here is where it all began. Here is where we were informed that what I thought would be a nice leisurely ride through the wine country would turn out to be the freaking tour de france! We were apparently going to ride 14 miles. 14 miles!? I haven’t really exercised in months and I was supposed to mountain bike 14 miles while consuming an alcoholic beverage! NO! The lanky but fit company owner, Sean, informed us that we were on a tight schedule and, right after we signed our lives away via release forms, that we were to head out if we wanted to make all our stops. Great. Exercise with a tight deadline. I strapped on a very attractive blue and silver helmet and mounted my bike. Instead of riding on the smooth road we rode alongside it on the extremely rock path paralleling the train tracks. Uncomfortable but manageable and much to my surprise we arrived at our first vineyard in about 15 minutes. This wasn’t going to be that bad. We were allowed to wander around and then met at the tasting room for a little vino. The Spier winery was celebrating its harvest and was quite beautiful. We all sat in a circle of chairs outside in the beautiful weather and enjoy some simply delicious wine. I was a fan of the chardonnay, as it was very fruity and light. After five glasses (tasting size of course) we were lead over to the cheetah rehabilitation center were we got to see a very stunning and well kept cheetah. But after about 5 minutes of that we were forced atop our bikes and were off to destination two. Our group was a little slow, AKA those of us that can’t ride like the wind slowed everyone down but we arrived at Stellenbosch Hills with limited causalities. This was to be a quick tasting because we were “a little behind”. These wines were a lot oakier and drier than the first and definitely not my favorite. After speed tasting we were instructed to mount our bikes and head to the third winery and lunch. I thought that the third winery would be the same short distance as the other two. Boy was I wrong. I spent the next 45 minutes struggling up hills, panting, seemingly biking in one place, and in absolute misery. Haha. At one point as Katherine and a couple of others were attached to a tow line, Sean decided to physically push me up some of the hill. My dignity started to drop off in little pieces to be left along the side of the road. By the time we arrived at the 3rd winery, Skilpadvlei, I was exhausted and attempting to maintain that my lack of physical fitness was less sad than “funny”. Though in reality it was just sad. Dylan continued to make fun of me for much of the lunch. I ordered the most amazing Afrikaans style hamburger in order to reward myself. It has 2 beef patties, sweet grilled onions, a fried egg, all the condiments and this delicious white mushroom sauce. It was so large that attempting to fit in your mouth at once was foolish and I was forced to awkwardly dissect it. It was extremely delicious though and quite filling. I then asked Dylan if we had any more hills. He said that “it was all down hill from here.”He lied. Lindsey, Kat, Ashley and I went to take some photos in the vineyards and much to my dismay when I attempted to take some jumping ones I was so tired my body wouldn’t get more than an inch off the ground. We did a little wine tasting at this vineyard and my pallet may be an unsophisticated but I think that much of it tasted like rubbing alcohol. Refreshing! As we mounted our bikes after lunch, I experienced a pain I didn’t know a bike seat could create. A pain that may in fact have been a symptom of my new sterility as a result of this trip. It was so extremely painful that every time we went over a bump a small squeal of pain would seep from my lips and there was nothing I could do about it. I joked with Dylan that this trip has permanently squashed any chance of having children in the future and that he was to blame. That guy was a slave driver! As we made our way through the not-so-flat vineyards it was hard to enjoy the beauty over the pain. After all the uphill, yah he totally lied, we finally hit the down hill which was AMAZING! Nothing like flying down the vineyards with the most beautiful view of the valley. Unfortunately, what goes down most likely will come up again and we hit one more hill right before our final vineyard, The Company of Wine People. My kind of people. We were served champagne and enjoy a short time under the umbrellas but as we were reminded we had a schedule to keep and were forced upon the pain machines one last time. As we road down the gravel path to the bike shed, we were finally done. 14 miles and I was alive. To be completely honest I had no clue I could make it. Especially when biking through the sand uphill. That seriously sucked. We were rushed to the train and hopped on right as it arrived. I immediately fell asleep for the rest of the ride and we arrived at the station about an hour later. Sore but whole. We said good bye to Dylan and hopped a cab to the V&A Waterfront (back to the boat). As we arrived, incidentally, so did like half the ship. The line was HUGE so we decided to head into the mall and grab a snack until it went down. Andrew, Lindsey, Ashley, Kat, and I had all heard of this little coffee shop called Melissa’s. Apparently it served this amazing hazelnut hot chocolate. And oh boy did it! They spread Nutella all over the inside of this huge white mug and then put in the most delectable hot cocoa. Yum Yum. After the cocoa of the gods we headed back to the ship and waited in a line that seemed longer than the previous. But you got to get on some time, right? After watching people get all catty about cutters we finally got on to the boat and headed for the room. I smelt as I have never smelt before and that shower was magical. We had seen a little Greek looking restaurant on the waterfront of Camps bay the day before and we were told by Lindsey that it was pretty good. So we put on some cute sun dresses and headed for Camps. We got a cab right outside the port and after dealing with an awkward and hostile police check point finally arrived in Camps right in front of the restaurant, Bungalow. What was so attractive about this restaurant was that it was an open air with these large white couches with big blue pillows. Very Greek looking. They give you these little breakfast-in-bed trays and it’s quite fun. We slit some NitroDragons, these sorbet like crème things dropped in nitrogen that when you eat them the nitrogen gas comes out your nose as smoke and you look like a dragon, and then this really delicious chicken dish. It was fun to people watch stroll by the beach and to get dressed up and go to dinner. After dinner we head to my new favorite ice cream destination that we had been to but a couple of days before. Still the best ice cream I have ever had in my life. Just another day in the life…haha…wow I’m spoiled.

2009-03-01T04:02:00.000-08:00

Day 33: Extreme Sports: Try 1

I will preface this by saying that I have participated in extremely limited physical activity since coming on to the ship. While at sea there are few ways to attempt to keep in a shape and frankly who wants to exercise while they are on a cruise? Not I for sure. So when we were told after a delicious breakfast early this morning that we were to be on the river raft for 5 hours my jaw dropped and my body started to organize a mutiny. Apparently, we were supposed to raft 11 miles, most of which we found out was not to be on “still water”which is 10X harder to raft across than moving water. I was concerned, to say the least. I grabbed a life vest and headed for the bus. We were dropped off about 20 minutes from the camp and given the “this is how you paddle”speech. We loaded into these little red 2 person inflatable rafts that reminded me a great deal of large inflatable Oscar Meier Wieners. In fact, throughout our journey I would have this reoccurring thought and would laugh both to myself and out loud about the physical appearance of these rafts. Some things I just find extensively entertaining. We hopped aboard and after about 15 minutes I began to feel the burn. Thankfully, shortly after that set in we got to our first rapid which proved to be quite fun. On the other side of the rapid, we all took turns attempting to go back up. No one, except the guides, had any success and most just capsized into the rocky water. We tried and failed but with little injury expect for a minorly bruised ego. We kept heading down the river: left, right, left, right, oh shit, right, right, tree, right, left! Overall, I really don’t see much of the appeal in doing it for so long! I mean my God how can you really enjoy the scenery if you have to focus on paddling and constantly fighting exhaustion? I am obviously out of shape haha. But after a couple hours of monotonous paddling we got to a small sand embankment. We sat on the boats as the crew began to put together lunch. It was a lunch of mystery meat and cheese sandwiches, pasta salad, and some delicious mini candy bars. We ate up and enjoyed the river and the perfect weather, not too hot, not too cold. After lunch apparently we were about half way. We hit a couple more little rapids on the way back but never quite as big as the first. One little activity that proved to be a real morale booster was the “nappy run”were at a rapid we took our life vest off and placed our legs through the arm holes and then secured the buckles in front. We all looked like we were wearing giant orange diapers! A real sight to be seen. We sat along the rocks of the rapid and then all let go together and floated down the river with our feet and arms in the air. It was surprisingly fun and the necessary outfit was hilarious. For some there was an accompanying little game to play right after: “Find that Leech”. Yes there were small African leeches that the guides didn’t tell us about. Apparently they are “harmless”and “only suck a little blood”. Oh good only “a little”. But to my displeasure I found a couple on the back of my thigh and flicked them off with such vigor that many were severed mid-air. They picked the wrong thigh to suck on! The last hour was the hardest as we were on completely still water and I was exhausted. In order to supplement this exhaustion Katherine and I even stole a little tow from our new friends Dan and Stephen. They were very pleased. We arrived back and I smelled like a dying river rat. I headed straight for the comfort of a warm shower but accepted a cold one and put on clean clothes. We loaded the bus shortly and headed back to the ship. When we arrived back at the ship we dropped off our stuff and headed for the main little plaza area right next to the waterfront. We entered a rotating door to find something that I have greatly missed, the mall. We went from shop to shop looking for the souvenirs that my mother and others had requested, picking up some springbok jerky, pillows, and other necessities. We headed for the Mugg &Bean a little chain coffee store that, according to our tour guide, had amazingly large delectable muffins. I ordered a coffee, I know I’m trying to quit, and chocolate chip muffin to split. It was in fact large and delicious, served with a side of graded cheese, butter and strawberry jam. Yum. After the muffin we wandered back to the room for a bit of cleaning up in preparation for a night on the town.

Let me preface this section of this entry by saying that there were very few times that I ever felt unsafe in South Africa and that I hesitated putting up this part of my experience here for fear of my mother having a small heart attack and requesting my immediate return home. But after much consideration I decided that it was merely another life lesson and thus should be shared. We headed downtown at about 9:30 after a quick dinner at the dining hall. We hopped a cab right outside the port gate. His name was Frank of Frank’s cabs. Boy was Frank a talker. He just kept going on telling us cautionary tales of how the people here take advantage of foreigners and how all they do is “steal and kill”and then moved on to how the ANC is corrupt and horrible. I attempted to interject to ask him a couple of questions but he would have no such thing. He just kept talking and talking. He dropped us off on Long Street which is the center of the Cape Town night life. There were tons of people out, many of them SASers, and the street was really hoppin’. We wandered into a packed Irish pub where I ordered my first real beer! Very exciting. I even have the photo documentation. Katherine wanted a cocktail so we headed upstairs to a lounge on top of the pub. There was a piano player playing the smooth tunes of James Blunt. We sat down at the bar and the bartender suggested a maitai, exotic. We each also had heard that we must have at least one springbok shot while here ( a shot of crème liquor and mint liquor). It tasted just like mint ice cream, quite delicious. We headed out to the balcony to enjoy the hustle and bustle of the street night life. We stumbled upon a group of 3 gentlemen about our age and they asked us where we were from. We said the US and we all struck up a conversation about US music. One of the guys, a tall white rugby type, started talking about his extreme interest in American rap music. Haha. He was a large fan of 50 cent, apparently. We had a lovely conversation about how we were liking South Africa, Obama, and we even tried to explain the Semester at Sea program to them but like so many times before it was still unfathomable to study on a ship with 750 students. They were very nice gentlemen, not sleazy at all, and it was nice to have at least a semi-intelligent conversation. We said our good byes and headed downstair to explore the rest of the street. We hopped from bar to bar, did a little dancing and then went in search of a pay phone to do some last minute calling as we probably wouldn’t be able to for the next couple of days. We found a pay phone on a parallel street right in front of a Holiday Inn Express with a guard sitting right at the door. I made my phone calls to friends back home with limited problem and Kat sat on a bench about a foot away from me talking on her cell phone. Over the period of 40 minutes security guards and police had been roaming the area and the guard was still sitting at the hotel in plain sight about 10 feet from the pay phone. All was well until a man came up and approached Katherine. I made the assumption that he was asking for money as so many people did at night when American were a little more “financially liberal”. I placed my clutch and camera on the other side of the phone booth so that he could not see it and kept looking over at Katherine. She gave me a confused look and I look around to find that the guard had just gotten up and was talking to someone in the elevator. The man then pulled out a knife and showed Katherine the blade. He was partially blocking my view but I told the person on the phone that there was a problem and I had to go. Katherine handed him her cell phone right before I walked over and he ran away saying that “if we screamed he’d come back and kill us both”. I still was extremely confused as to what was going on. I grabbed Kat and immediately went into the hotel where she told me what happened. I was amazed that I had completely missed this within the time I was there. My heart started pounding and we asked the reception desk to call us a cab. The cab came in about 3 minutes and I still could not believe what had just happened. Kat had been mugged. Held at knife point mugged. I mean it really wasn’t all the surprising but at the same time I just couldn’t really grasp it. When the cab driver asked how we were doing we said “OK”and then decided to divulge our evening’s uncomfortable events. He apologized profusely and then admitting to being mugged 4 times. Once he was even accidentally shot through the ear. We recounted the event and the consensus was that it went as well as it possibly could have. The cell phone was pre-paid and he only had 20 bucks on it, no one was hurt, and if I would have been able to figure out what was going on enough to have entered the situation earlier it might have been much worse. Still it was quite a traumatizing experience. No late nights for me anymore. So Mom, please don’t die. Everything is fine. Just another lesson learned and sometimes no matter how careful you are, it just happens. Thankfully, I don’t think this will be a problem in upcoming countries as I can probably take most Asian in almost all areas except intelligence.

2009-02-26T13:01:00.000-08:00

Day 32: Rafting Day One, No Actual Rafting Though…

We woke up to head out to our river rafting trip at the healthy hour of 9 A.M. We met up with our leader in the Union and I was surprised that the group was so small. As usual about 4 people didn’t show. I still don’t quite understand how people can justify simply just not showing up for 300 dollar trips that they have already paid for. In every country that we have been to, there have been at least 2 people in each trip that simply decided not to come. The field office woman even told us about a girl on the ship that cancelled her Taj Mahal trip with SAS, which was about 1,300 nonrefundable dollars on the cheap end, and then is going on an identical independent trip, that will probably end up costing more, because she wanted to go with her friends…I mean are these people made of money? I guess some of them are. But I could never justify spending that much money and then just saying screw it. Anyway so we headed out to the bus which turned out to me the most amazing bus ever! Not only was it decorated in the décor of a 1980’s orange explosion but there was like 3 feet of leg room AND because the group was so small everyone got their own two seats! It may not seem as thrilling to you but after countless games of bus style sardines and no where to put my rather long legs it was heaven on bus. We headed off into the valleys of the west side of South Africa. Our final destination was Wercester, a small town known for its wine lands, about 2 hours away. Upon arrival we were sectioned off and shown our little A-frame cabins. They were simple and it reminded me a great deal of camp. They had no front door but rather a screen that zipped up. Of course ours did not zip so I spent much of the evening terrifyingly killing the imaginary bugs and animals that I felt crawling in my sleeping bag. It was a beautiful day and we head over to the dining area. We were not going to do any rafting today but rather we were to enjoy some wine tasting, some traditional stew/casserole, and the good ol’rugged outdoors. We arrived at the dining area and started to snack on a lovely selection of chips, peanuts, and popcorn. The staff were all very friendly and we chit chatted with them about topics such as the world cup, current politics, and the normal background information. The head woman was making the stew in large black iron pots on the fire and would head back and forth into the kitchen to grab varying bowls of vegetables and meat to throw in the pots. Shortly after this Kat and I decided to start the wine tasting fun and headed over to a covered awning. Our guide through this magical wine adventure was to be Enrique, the round jolly South African wine guy. When he discovered that we were from the US he got very excited as apparently he had worked at Disneyworld in Orlando just a couple years back. Haha. He started out with a couple of whites, a rose, and then a couple of red. The best was definitely the whites but overall it was not the best wine I have ever tasted. Incidentally, when I asked how much wine normally cost in South Africa he said that this wine was about 19 rand or 1.90 US and that wine in general was about 19 to 45 rand or about 1.90 to 4.50 US. Alcoholism is practically a nation sport here because of the cheap booze and willing competitors. I guess it makes sense now. After a little tasting, people really got to drinking. Faces went from normal to red in about 10 minutes as the group enjoyed the freedom of unconstrained drinking. I had a glass but found it more entertaining to watch everyone else stumble over words such as “South Africa”and “please pass”. It was quite a jolly time. After wine tasting, I was ready for my daily nap and headed for the cabin/tent. Waking up, I realized that I was late for dinner! A large taboo in the religion of Sarah, meals are important sacraments, you know. I headed straight for the black pot still on the fire. It was dark and I couldn’t really see in it but I scooped it on to my plate, grabbed a piece of bread and headed for the lovely table of my hung over and still intoxicated companions. I dug into to the mysterious substance and found it to be quite delicious. Potatoes, chicken, cabbage oh my! After dinner we grabbed hot chocolate and smores and headed towards the fire for good conversation, well at least decent conversation with some of the more unsteady of the group. One of the guides was telling me that he is also a big base jumper and I guess he works at a company in South Africa on the side. He has done over 2,000 jumps and makes all his own ropes. He tests these handmade ropes himself. Can you say terrifying? A true adrenaline junky. I chatted with everyone for awhile and then headed to bed amongst the roars of the game “Ten Fingers”in the cabin next door. Tomorrow: rafting. Yikes.

2009-02-26T12:59:00.000-08:00

Day 31: South Africa

We were late getting into port and came in at about 10 AM. We went to breakfast which was absolutely delectable. Definitely always good on the ship. We sat through a diplomatic briefing in which they essentially said “Yay Obama, you will be stabbed or robbed, and Capetown is beautiful I’m sure you’ll be fine.”Reassuring. But that seems to be the main pattern for all the briefings so far. Right before it was over there was a mad dash to the gangway. We joined in the commotion as we thought that we only had a few hours until we had to be back at the ship for our little field trip to the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation. Just as we were disembarking an announcement came over the loud speaker that said our trip had been cancelled. This was both good and bad as I really wanted to see the center but at least we would have one full day in Capetown. We head out on a beautiful but slightly cloudy day. As we headed down the pier, we ran right into the waterfront center. We found a little agency that does all kinds of tours and little activities. We signed up for a good ol’shark dive. I haven’t seen the movie Jaws yet so I am able to consider doing this. Looked like fun but I must say some of the pictures with the great white sharks arching out of the water were a little, no excuse me, extremely terrifying! Nonetheless I remain excited. The current itinerary is: wine tasting and river rafting down the Breede River, biking and wine tasting through wine country, and shark diving on our last day, wine optional. It should be a very full 5 days. I am brimming with excitement. No really, I am.

We started our new free day by heading into the waterfront area and picking up some postcards. After wandering around for a bit we head into central Capetown via taxi. Our taxi driver was very friendly and we chit chatted about our new president and how much everyone was excited for Obama, a constant theme throughout our travels so far. We were still looking for the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation, despite our cancelled trip, and knew it was in Capetown. The man had no clue what we were talking about and dropped us off in front of a Dutch museum. Haha. Incidentally, the museum was right across from a huge open air market so we decided to do a little shopping. We picked up the necessities: telephone wire baskets, a South Africa doll, an ostrich egg stand, and a few other essentials. The people were still far less aggressive than in Morocco. It was interesting to see how much of the stuff in these markets were identical to those in Namibian markets. But prices were about the same and that’s all the matters. We had a great deal of fun weaving in and out of the stands as people yelled “Sister, you must look. Special price.”After a little shopping we decided to wander up and down Long Street, the main street in the center of town. It was very cultural and full of life. In some ways Capetown reminds me of some of the parts of San Francisco that I love. We headed up the street until we ran into Mama Africa. We were told that this had amazing food and they were right. I got some African chicken curry that was delicious. Apparently, Mama Africa’s is bumping at night so hopefully I’ll get to see that at some point. Apparently, in general Capetown has a very active and safe night life, which sounds like fun.

After a thorough walk down Long Street and still curious were the Institute was we headed into a community center on the main drag. This center completely amazed me. Government funded, this center served as a complete resource for all available government services including unemployment, grants, HIV/AIDS information, and health and human services. There was a full staff to help and assist people in whatever dimension of help they needed. What an amazing concept. We walked up to the man at the front desk and asked if he knew where the center was located. He looked at us the way that all of the people had, in complete confusion. He then graciously offered to look it up on the internet for us. What a nice guy. When the website came up and said it was in Capetown but just another part we asked him how long it would take to get there. He said it would take about 20 minutes to get to that area of Capetown. He then said that he didn’t know if they did tours and said he was going to call the number. We told him it wasn’t necessary but he did it anyway and talked for a bit, but he was unable to reach the right person. He offered to call again in 10 minutes but we told him it wasn’t necessary and thanked him for his help and headed out. It was worth a try attempting to find the place. We then flagged down the most legitimate taxi I have seen on this trip so far. It was driven by an older South African man named Nevell. Awesome name. We hopped in and asked him if he knew where the Institute was, he didn’t, and then showed him the address. He did something that I have never seen a taxi driver do, he took out a map. He admitted to not knowing that part of the area that well and took out a map to look it up! We weren’t going to spend hours driving in circles trying to find it YAY! After he couldn’t find the street he then called the number we gave him for the center to get DIRECTIONS. This was the most competent taxi driver ever! We headed out about 10 minutes later. The decision to ride with Nevell has been one of the best of the trip so far. He drove us out to Winburg and along the way he told us about how he had grown up in Capetown all his life. He described some good places to see and some places to avoid. He talked about apartheid and how things had changed so much in such a short time. I was amazed as to how self conscious he was to sounding racist. We passed by the University of Capetown which was perched on a lush green hillside. It was gorgeous. Going there I would never get any school work done. After entering Winburg and discovering that there are in fact two Church Streets, we finally arrived at our destination. It took a significant amount of time and energy and I am still shocked that people have no clue about an organization that essentially prevented civil war and helped to buffer the shocks of post-apartheid South Africa. (Oh, for those of you that don’t know, the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation was created by Desmond Tutu, a Catholic religious leader that was actually nominated to be pope after John Paul II. He is an amazing man and has won the Nobel Prize for peace because of his efforts through this organization to prevent civil war and promote peaceful transition to a true African government. The work he did with this organization is completely breathtaking.) But much to our dismay as we stood in front of the door to what looked like a simple office we realized that it was not a museum or a center but rather just that, an office. We got buzzed in and after telling the receptionist that “Though our semester at sea trip was cancelled, we still wanted to look around.”She looked at us puzzled and called another woman to the front desk. The other woman told us that there really wasn’t anything to see and offered us pamphlets and a yearly report, both very interesting. A little disappointed but still happy to have at least seen the building we headed out to look for Nevell. Nevell waited for us while we were inside and we kindly asked him to take us to Table Mountain. He was more than happy to and we started talked politics the whole way there, which I loved. We talked about how much they loved Obama and whether or not we supported the current war. We then asked about South Africa’s first impending two party election and how Mandela and Desmond Tutu had both disaffiliate from the current corrupt president’s party, the ANC. Though Mandela ran under the ANC, the reign of the first African run party was only characterized by corruption and disappointment. The current, well I suppose he is a past president now, was essentially fired a short time ago and is suspected/guilty of many charges of corruption that he has pushed on to his Sec of State Zumma. Incidentally, though Zumma is facing charges of rape and corruption himself he is also attempting to run for president. Strange...The ANC party was the liberating party of South Africa but it seems that anyone that matters has left. The other party has formed out of the ANC and they are called the Democratic Party. The candidate from the Democratic party is incidentally a white man but seems to be doing much better among black voters than the ANC. He is looking to win and both races are happy about this as he claims to be the representative of the united people of South Africa rather than a new white suppressor. This is the first time that South Africa will have 2 opposing parties. Another interesting fact, anyone that does not vote, their vote is automatically counted towards the current party in office’s candidate? Very very strange but I assume it really gets people to get out and vote? But it was nice to talk politics with Nevell and see a local’s perspective. He dropped us off at Table Mountain and of course it was extraordinarily foggy. We were told there was no visibility from the very top and just decided to take some pictures from the landing in front of the cable cars. We hiked a little but got over that concept pretty fast. The city is absolutely beautiful. There are few more breathtaking views. Nevell waited for us again then offered to take us just over the mountain to one of the most beautiful beaches in South Africa, Camps pronounced Comps. It was a 10 minute drive and he waited for us as we wandered the beach collected some sand and walked up and down the little restaurants and shops. Though a little overcast it was still quite warm and we were desperately craving ice cream. Like a gift from the heavens a couple walked down the stair in front of us, cones in hand. We head straight for where they seemed to have originated and found Sinful Ice Cream. The most amazing ice cream I have ever tasted. I got Honey and ‘Good Stuff’. I have a lot of ice cream in my day but this was pretty darn amazing. I’m sure they just froze the cow. It was SO creamy, fresh, rich and delicious. Better than gelato, better than everything! I plan on making the trek all the way over the mountain again before I leave to have one last taste of paradise.

We met Nevell at the car and made our way back to Long Street. It had been a long but very successful day and Nevell had been by our side the entire time! Haha. We said our good byes and took his card. He had made our day so positive and he was such a genuine person.

We headed up and down the street wandering in and out of music stores, craft centers and all sorts of other fun stuff. As we were crossing the street a woman approached us. She quickly said “I am not asking you for money but rather help.”Katherine and I both looked at each other. The woman smelled of urine and was missing most of her front teeth. She told us that she had a daughter and that her daughter Adetta had not eaten in the last two days and wouldn’t stop crying. She had no more diapers or formula. She told us that she was homeless and unable to feed her daughter and was wondering if we could buy her some formula and a couple diapers. She then asked if we wanted to see her daughter, she was about 10 minutes away. We respectfully declined the visit but offered to buy the formula and diapers at the local pharmacy. She walked in with us and picked out the correct formula and diapers, only about $16 US for a tub of huge formula. How can you say no to a woman asking you not to give her money but rather to feed her child? In the scheme of things, it cost the same as a cheap dinner and a movie. But I must admit it was a very effective strategy.

Everything was about to close as the South African work day ends at 4:15. My kind of workday. haha. We soon decided to head back to the ship. We flagged a taxi and headed back to the pier. He dropped us off at this shopping center right near the pier. We walked in and to my surprise it was a MALL! A real mall! We walked about only to discover that it was huge!! It had everything including Gucci, Burberry, Quicksilver and pretty much everything you could think of. It was strange to think that this huge lavish mall was just off the harbor. I mean that it was in South Africa at all, the city was looking to be much more metropolitan than I expected. But after some mall wandering and a few purchases for my mother we headed back to the ship. I am completely exhausted and can not wait for rafting tomorrow!!

2009-02-20T09:45:00.000-08:00

2009-02-20T09:26:00.000-08:00

2009-02-17T23:58:00.000-08:00

Day 25: Good News Mom and Dad! After Graduation, I’m Moving to China

Today was pretty much like any other. Class, class, lunch, sleep, dinner, paper, sleep. The rhythm of my life on board. But today, I was fortunate enough to have an epiphany. I am an old person. Katherine and I were sitting at dinner when the ship’s conduct officer and his wife came and sat down with us. I was intimidated to say the least because this my friends is the boss man. The man, upon your simple mistake, kicks you off the ship without mercy! But he is actually a really nice guy. We got to talking about Namibia and their previous travels and he even threw in a few stories of previous voyage hoodlums. All very entertaining. Continuing in polite conversation, we stumbled upon their experience with the SAS program and teaching in general. Turns out that just last year they were teaching English at a private school in Bejing. This school provides an apartment, all meals, a salary, half your plane ticket, takes care of all visa requirements and you only have to teach during the day 4 days a week! Almost all expenses are covered and with recommendation, the program is not hard to get in to. I was immediately enthralled. They continued to talk about the amazing time they had there. They were going back to visit when we ported in China. The offered to pick us up all the information we needed including applications. I am thrilled! I have been looking for a program to work with after graduation and, of course upon further investigation, this one seems like it would really work. We all chit chatted until the dining room cleared more than an hour after dinner. It was by far one of the best conversations that we had on the ship so far. This is how I came to the conclusion that I am old.

2009-02-17T23:56:00.000-08:00

Day 31: Home sweet boat

We hopped a cab to the combi station only to be met by the combi pimp who so annoying referring to us a “blondie”and “girlies”. A large over confident man, all I wanted to do was throw money at him and get in the car. This time we only waited for an hour and then were off. The weather was gorgeous and the van was a lot more comfortable. Well except for the small seatless child that decided to make it his mission to annoy me:

-He stood in the very small area next to me by the door and sang. As he sang his spit was caught by the wind and flew all over me.
-This child pooed himself 10 minutes into the trip and decided to block the window, by playing a little game of “Stick my hand out the window”, blocking my only fresh air source.
-His mother would get mad and hit him. He would then scream directly into my ear. So she would hit him because he was screaming. He would scream again.

I suppose this was the African equivalent to babies on airplanes but still, did I do something that bad in a past life? I exited the van covered in child salivia, death in one ear, and gasping for uncontaminated air. T’was an interesting ride, to say the least.

It was blazing hot in Swako when we arrived. We grabbed our bags and dropped our letters off at the post office. We the wandered around town. It is a very cute little German city, made for tourist. We head to Utta’s daughters shop. It was very cute and we I purchased a very cute keychain.

After a bit of wander the heat overwhelmed us and we hopped a cab to Walvis Bay. We had a creepy cab driver and were very happy to get out. He kept attempting to show off by blasting his music and such. None of us showed any interest. We got to Walvis in about 20 minutes and bought a few trinkets before entering the port gates. I then headed in towards the boat and the amazingness of a hot shower. It was an amazing trip back, not long enough but amazing nonetheless. It was nice to visit a little piece of home and I look forward to returning for longer in a couple years (Mom &Dad, I’m sure your thrilled about that).

2009-02-17T23:54:00.000-08:00

Day 30: Windhoek

We woke up nice and early to maximize the short day. We had to fit in, make sure we saw all that was Windhoek. We had but a few priorities: post office, souvenirs, more granola bars, calls to home, the settlements, Patricia, and Queenie…Well many more than a few goals…As we started our walk downtown, everything came back. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I knew exactly where we were and exactly how we could get to where we were going, a new feeling for me as I am always lost even at home. But as we wandered just past the PolyTech, were we stayed for but a short month, it finally hit me that after 4 years we were back in Namibia. The Pick-n-Pay wasn’t open so we wondered downtown. Not much had changed there except they had a digital billboard in the middle of the mall, a big deal for Windhoek. We attempted to make some phone calls but considering it was one in the morning on a Saturday night, I just called a couple of friends. Now I remember the Windhoek pay phones and Flexi Call Cards very well. The payphone have the most difficult buttons. They are testy, to say the least, and 90% of the time when you push the keys the number doesn’t register and thus when dialing in a long Flexi call card pin and realizing only at the end that you have to start over, it can create such a passionate frustration that few have and will ever experience. I was tempted to beat the phone booth with its own phone, but decided to opt for a Jungle Oats bar to calm myself. We walked around the town center: visiting the post office, which was closed, and the bowl store, which had been such a point of complete fury for my mother, (I know where it is now Mom) and a few other shops. We went up to were Israel, our guide 4 years ago worked and looked at the local crafts, making some purchases. There were 3 Himba women at the little informal market. Now if you have ever seen a picture of a Himba woman you would think that they only dressed this way (completely topless, covered in red okra and clay, hair dreaded with clay, wearing a skirt and a few other minor accessories) during special occasions. But you would be wrong, Himba women wear traditional clothes, or lack there of, all the time! Boobs everywhere as they walk down the busy modern streets of Windhoek. They are very stern people that speak NO English and one intimidated me into buying a bracelet. After some shopping and wandering, we walked down to the Pick-n-Pay and found that they had reconstructed the entire grocery store but I guess some things have to change over a period of almost 4 years. We b-lined for the hot food section to pick up some legendary French fries, we had lived off these fries while there. They were delicious as always, the element that makes them so delicious is this red seasoning on top, a seasoning that is illegal in the US because of the amount of MSG and other deadly materials. Our loss. I ate them all before we even got to the check stand. I then picked up a lifetime supply of Jungle Oat bars as well as my favorite candy bar “P.S.”and some delicious steak flavored “Simba”chips, that’s right steak flavored chips. Yah, I can remember why I didn’t lose any weight while I was in Africa, my diet consisted of French fries, granola bars, éclairs, chips, and chocolate bars…After a very successful shopping trip we headed for my nemesis, the pay phones once again to call Patricia to meet up and go out to the settlement. She, of course, was not picking up. I called her repeatedly for 35 minutes, about 20 phone calls which is way too much interaction with those damn buttons, and she picked up about an hour after she said she would. She answered and apologized saying that she didn’t pick up because she was “in God”. Sure, don’t want to interrupt that. I asked were we could meet her and she put her husband John on the phone. He gave me directions and by direction I mean he told us to tell the cab driver 3 things “Ramtakta, Namika, Rank 80”. He was unsure if I would be able to pronounce it and asked me to say it back to him. I couldn’t really and he assured me that most drivers would know where it was. Fortunately, most drivers even if they don’t know where it is will say they do initially and then just get lost until they call their brother to direct them. It’s really a fun little game. We hopped a cab gave them the directions and they repeated it back to us affirming “Ramtakta, Namika, Katatura?”Oh great, John didn’t say it was in Katatura, AKA the ghetto. But we said yes and headed out to Katatura. The driver, of course, called a friend as he had no clue were Rank 80 was. But we ended up at Taxi Rank 80 in the middle of the slums and with no John. We were supposed to be meeting them at their church but John wouldn’t tell me the name of the church…So we asked the driver to sit with us and wait as we did not want to be strand in the ghetto by ourselves. After a couple of minutes the driver asked if we would like to use his phone, we grateful accepted and called and after a couple minutes, Pride, John and Patricia’s son approached from behind and pointed down the street to the church. We thanked the driver profusely and headed into the simple white building. We were greeted by the whole family in their Sunday best and sat to chit chat. Patricia said that everything was going really well and that they were looking to open the new soup kitchen very soon. She asked us about our studies and the boat and neither she nor the kid’s couldn’t fathom enormity of the ship or the program. We took a family photo and headed off to Okahandja Park, the settlement we used to work in. We all climbed into the back of the truck just like old times. We first arrived at Kilimanjaro, which is the site of the newest soup kitchen to open in just a couple of weeks. It is amazing the progression that has occurred. It is a simple cement building but there were toilets, an indoor kitchen and a large rec room. It was worlds different than the little scrap metal shack they used to serve soup from. There is even a garden area in back that Doug is soon to take on. Patricia was so proud and ecstatic to be able to show us and we were so excited to have been a part of it. To my surprise, things were really changing. Africa is a very slow country and progress is hard to come by but in only 4 short years she had gone from three shacks in three different slums and transporting soup from her home to 2 functional safe centers with solar for God’s sake. This project completely defied the odds and there was a real difference being made. I was extremely reassured to know that things were changing, something I did not expect. On the way to the Okahandja soup kitchen we talked with the kids about their aspirations and what they thought of both their current elections and the US election. The kids echoed the same sentiment as everyone we had talked to “We love Obama. He will change the world.”Glenda even said that a couple of kids at her school were telling people that “Now Obama is going to give every African a ticket to the US. They were just waiting for theirs.”Apparently, when Obama was elected, parties sprung up all over Namibia. People wore shirts on the street and the belief that someone that is part African could become President of the US installed hope in just about everyone. When we asked about the new Namibian elections, they weren’t as excited. They said that the division in the Swako party had created a lot of trouble, that a lot of violence had risen out to the first 2 party election in the country’s free history. But mid conversation we stopped at the new Okhandja soup kitchen. A brightly colored building with a real jungle gym with no rocks at the bottom of the slide, a true miracle. Everything was different in the best way possible. I had expected to return to Namibia and see the things that had become such a huge part of me in the exact state of helplessness that they were when I was originally there, but I was completely surprised as to the astonishing difference made. I even discovered that a small boy that I had become friends with had received the necessary anti-viral treatment and that the tom-boyish girl that I had loved when I taught English was still in school and doing very well. It seemed that even though some things were still the same there was a large silver lining to it all. As we headed back home, Patricia stopped the car at a local primary school, or rather primary tents. There had been no primary school in the informal settlement from its establishment despite government promises to build one. Also on the way back we stopped by Otilia’s house, a volunteer from the soup kitchen, and though she was at church we got to see her daughter. Otilia is HIV positive but had been living a fairly normal life with all over her kids. She was doing well and even made it to head cook at the soup kitchen.

Patricia and John dropped us at Marybeth’s house and we said our goodbyes. It was amazing to be able to see it all again, I just wish we were here for longer. We headed inside just as it started to rain. RAIN? Again? But it did and the thunder was the loudest I have ever heard in my life. Marybeth got back shortly and as we chatted inside as the roads began to flood outside. It was down right pouring for 15 minutes straight. I have never seen rain that could flood an entire street, as so cars couldn’t even really drive through it, in only 15 minutes. Marybeth said that Queenie had called and wanted to come over. She said there were a couple of things that she wanted to brief us on before. Queenie was a teacher with us while we taught English at the bridging school. She is a sassy 27 year old that doesn’t take anything from anyone. She has 2 little girls now and is currently still dating the father of the second. She was looking to go to University of South Africa to get a degree in community development via an online course. Marybeth said she was mostly going to ask us for help. When Queenie arrived we chatted about her kids, school, how bad things had gotten at the school with administrators right before she quit, what she wanted to do with her life and so on. Until we hit something that was terrifying to me. She began to tell us what a bad year last year was. She described to us being brutally beaten and robbed by a cab driver while going home from work. She was beaten and robbed by this cab driver and left to suffer on the side of the road and had to walk 30 minutes back into town. Her arm was close to broken and her face was huge. Shortly after, she then described getting appendicitis and having her appendices taken out and the 3 month open wound that still was a problem, as a scar looked like someone had attempted surgery with a can opener. You could do nothing but sit in shock and apologize. At the end of the conversation we discussed how the kids were doing and her career goals. Out of the girls from the class she said that 4 were pregnant and 5 had gone into prostitution. She also said that Tracy, who was already involved in prostitution when were there, was HIV positive and had 3 “miscarriages”. She then described that she had seen quite a few of them at an over 18 bar, none of them are over 18, and that all of them were drinking and attempting to buy her drinks. She refused and told them to go home. None of them listened. Great. I supposed not everything can be good news.

Queenie wants to stay and help her community, something surprisingly rare. Katherine, Marybeth and I each promised to contribute half of her tuition if she paid the other half herself. She said that she could do that and now looks to enroll next semester.

Marybeth made us dinner and her Indian roommates made the most amazing flat bread, one of the most simple but delicious meals ever. I headed for a cold shower and bed right after. Looking forward to another 4 hour combi ride It’s great to be back though even if just for a day.

2009-02-17T23:31:00.000-08:00

Day 29: Home sweet Namibia

We arrived in Namibia at 8 AM and went to our first diplomatic briefing. We were greeted by a sea of students all attentively listening to the US official’s words of caution. Directly after we started to look for Marybeth and the choir. Almost sprinting to the 5th deck, we burst outside to hear the sweet serenade of children’s voices. All the girls were dressed in “traditional African”clothes and their best tackies (tennis shoes) or sandals. We stood and took it all in for a second. They were really getting down when the ship security guy pushed us off the deck saying that “There are too many people here, you have already taken a picture.”Um ok…so Kat and I ran to the union, which has the largest windows, and perched ourselves in search of Marybeth. We found her and after we franticly waved for about 5 minutes, we caught her eye! She waved and blew kisses. Something familiar, finally. Directly after the loud speaker guy announced that we could disembark the ship. We literally sprinted, completely consumed with glee, to our rooms to get our cards and then head to the gangway, taking no mercy to passers by. Pure excitement just kept re-circulating my body. We ran down the gangway and b-lined for Marybeth, almost knocking her over of course. I started to tear up. How could we actually be in Namibia and how could Marybeth be greeting us? The mental pinching started again. We spent the next hour with mutual updates and watching the girls sing and dance. What was comforting but slightly disturbing was how interested all the SAS students were in the kids. The SAS kids would approach the kids and ask for a photo with them or give them a sticker and then ask them to sing a little for the video camera. I mean, these kids aren’t monkeys. Thankfully the kids took it as new celebrity rather than a superficial attempt to grab a piece of Namibia. All were good intentioned but some of it was a little over the top. After all the commotion the kids got to walk up the gangway onto the boat. They couldn’t even fathom how large it was or that there were so many female university students. They head for the 5th floor dining hall and were welcomed in to a separate room with a special brunch. There were banana and blueberry pancakes, cookies, chocolate syrup, nuts, and fruit. All the necessary ingredients for a sugar comma. I think the ship was trying to attempting to make a child-friendly meal but they don’t really realize that these kids do not consume a lot of sugar. They all have the most beautifully white teeth and that is because they just don’t eat the same processed sugar our youth do. Still no one was complaining about the meal, at all. We then had to say good bye to Marybeth (DISCLAIMER: Mother, I did not tell you that Marybeth was going to stay in Swako with the kids while we continued to Windhoek. I figured you may freak out a little if you knew that Whitney, Kat, and I were traveling alone, so continue reading at your own risk. I’m safe and everything is fine.) Anyway, we said our good byes to Marybeth and the rather hyper girls and we headed out to catch a taxi to Swako and then onward to Windhoek. We hopped a taxi and traveled through the amazing dunes. The Namibian desert is really something to see if you have never seen a real desert. It is just dunes for miles. One gigantic sandbox. It has a unique beauty that you can’t really capture in photographs because it is the immensity of it that really overwhelms and amazes you, that seems to be a theme everywhere we have gone so far. But we arrived in Swako and were dropped off at the desolate combi station. If ever traveling in Africa on a combi, you should know that they wait until all 14 seats in the van are filled no matter how long it takes. It took us 3 hours to fill that combi. Up side: the combi only cost $10 US dollars. I suppose you get what you pay for. Africa is a slow moving country, the constant go, go, go in the US is very slow, slow, slow here. But after 3 hours of good bonding time with the little combi and first choice of seats we headed off. It was extremely warm in Swako and between the 15 people and lack of air conditioning, the combi took some getting used to but like a said, you get what you pay for plus this was definitely true African transport. 10 points for originality. Interesting combi incidences:

-a bird ran straight into our windshield, didn’t much phase the driver
-we killed a butterfly
-when it started raining the windshield wipers didn’t really work
-instead of repairing the potholes, the Namibian government just puts up a little orange side that says pothole-that was fun
-we drove on the wrong side of the street for a while because it was nicer than the correct side
-the chair I was sitting on was an add-on and was attached to the other part of the front seat row with a little metal bar that I was sure was going to break
-we saw some springbok and onyx (really cool) no worthogs or baboons though
-at a gas station a man asked me if he could be my “Swedish lover”…I respectfully declined

We arrived in Windhoek right before sunset. It was so strange to be back. So much of it was the same but so much of it was different. We dropped our stuff and hop a cab to the grocery store. All Namibian cabs have their info on the outside of the car. This way you can tell who is legitimate or not. We waved down the first cab we saw and hopped it. When the driver turned around to ask were we wanted to go, it soon became apparent that he was 12!!! The boy could have been in elementary school he looked so young. We said any open supermarket and I asked him his name, he said “Yo-yo”. Mmmm k, 12 year old Yo-yo had mostly likely stolen his fathers cab to make a little money. Great. But all was well and he dropped us at the nearest market, it began to pour so we asked him to wait and he gladly did. We ran and immediately headed for the granola bars. Namibia has the most amazing granola bars, my favorite being Jungle Oats Yogurt Bars. So delicious and extremely cheap considering the exchange rate is 10 Namibian to $1 US. We picked up a few essentials and then headed out to meet Yo-yo. By this time it was a torrential down pour. I had never seen it rain in Namibia but those clouds mean business. The rain came down in sheets and I grabbed the sides of the cab and throwing a little prayer up to the big man. We arrived home safe and decided to wander across the street to a restaurant but a 30 second walk from Marybeth’s house. The restaurant was Nice. That’s its name: “Nice”, they’re modest. We were still in our traveling scrubs and when we entered we realized how nice “Nice”really was. It is the culinary arts teaching restaurant and by far one of the nicest restaurants I have ever been to in my life. We were looked up and down by the waitress as if we were lost. Kat asked if they were still serving dinner as we did not have the courage to travel any further at night to find a new restaurant. She said yes and reluctantly escorted us to a beautiful outdoor courtyard. There were islands with choi ponds around them that hosted little romantic tables but as it was raining we were seated on the outside patio under an awning. The number of forks and the elegantly dressed couples helped us to come to the quick conclusion that Nice may be a little too nice for our current attire and financial budget. But we were already seated far into the depths of the restaurant and quite hungry. Additionally, it was Valentine’s Day so we decided to treat ourselves! Haha. We ordered the cheapest bottle of wine on the menu and I got a delectable soup while Kat got a sirloin steak. This steak ended up being 10.50 US. Not a bad deal. So Whitney, Kat, and I chit chatted and enjoyed the wedding that was going on in restaurant across the way. We watched couples on their Valentine dates and found ourselves to be having an amazing time. The food was remarkable and simple and the atmosphere was breathtaking. After an amazing dinner, we head back to Marybeth’s for a shower and bed. The house is very simple and very secure with electric fence, 4 gates and accompanying padlocks, and 3 very furious Indian roommates. Well the Indian guys weren’t intimidating but they were quite nice and made us the most amazing food the second night. The house was very simple, so simple in fact it didn’t have hot water. But after a day in the Namibian summer all you want at the end of it is a shower, hot or not. So I took the shortest shower of my life in what may have been glacier run-off. But a smelly but safe convi ride, delectable granola bars, and an amazing time with my friends in the nicest restaurant in Namibia were all the making for a marvelous day and the best Valentine’s Day I have ever had. It's good to be back.

2009-02-17T23:13:00.001-08:00

Day 26, 27, &28: Namibia. Soon.

So tomorrow marks week 4 of operation around the world. I came to realize today some things that I had been repressing for a while. First, I have held 3 conversations within the last month, none of them exceeding 20 minutes. It is a strange concept to be so cut off from it all. I haven’t been able to get a hold of friends or even have more than one phone conversation with my family. Email has become the substitute and it’s not something that I enjoy doing. I have to force myself often times. What is also strange is that at home many people of my generation spend hours a day stalking people they know and even people they don’t know through Facebook. I figured that I would partake in this and keep tabs on everyone while I was abroad. But with internet access being so expensive and shotty, I find myself trapped in a bubble and attached to my email. This ship is an isolating experience. There is no leaving. No real choices or freedom. For all intensive purposes there is no outside world. I live in a bubble, the entire world could be in ruins and I would never know. None of us would. We are a ship living in the bliss of ignorance. Tomorrow, for a lot of people including myself, that bliss is broken. Namibia is not Spain. It is not Morocco. Namibia is grim reality. A country that I visited almost 4 years ago that’s HIV/AIDS rate has only increased. The baggage that I left in Namibia is all going to be there the second I step off this boat, the bubble will break, and there I will be; sixteen all over again, still just as helpless to grasp my own feelings of guilt as before. It scares me to think that when I go back that the slowness of Africa will have left things the same. But what scares me even more is to think that things have changed. That some people will not be there. That things will be worse. That I had made no difference and that there is no way to change any of it. I don’t want the hopelessness that consumes the so much of southern Africa to even touch me. I want to believe that it will be different and that progression is possible. I am scared of the baggage I left in Namibia. It was all so neatly packed. All the images, the guilt, the feels of extreme exhaustion. It was so neatly put away so that I could deal with while being home, so that I could function in normal life. As I return to Namibia it will all spill out. It will be there and I can’t put it back. I will have to start all over and in three days process and accept what took me a month and three years to analyze and order. But it all begins again tomorrow.

What is reassuring to me is that in a strange way Namibia is one of my homes. It has a piece of my heart and I know that when I go back and see Patricia and Marybeth that I some of the homesickness I have will be absolved. One item of business that makes me very happy is that Marybeth and the children’s choir will be greeting us when we dock tomorrow morning in Walvis Bay. After Marybeth asked the program to extend our allowed luggage so that we could bring some extra books and school supplies, the program did something I never expected. Semester at Sea offered to pay for the full travel expenses and lodging for Marybeth and the entire children’s choir to come and stay at the coast. They arrived last night and played all day today at the beach. For almost all these children, it will be the first time and most likely the only time they will see the ocean. Can you imagine seeing the ocean for the first time at age 14? What a strange concept. In exchange Semester at Sea has asked that they perform as we disembark the boat. After everyone is off they are bringing the children on the boat for a tour and lunch. I could feel the energy in Marybeth’s email as she described it all to us. What Semester at Sea has give these children is unimaginable. I feel genuine pride in being a part of this program. Tomorrow we disembark to the sounds of children’s voices.

2009-02-17T23:13:00.000-08:00

2009-02-10T05:47:00.000-08:00

Day 24: Neptune Day

Today we were given the day off from school only to be awoken at 8:50 and told “All pollywogs report to Deck 7. It is time to pay your tribute to Neptune.”Wow, this is just like camp! We threw on some clothes and headed up to Deck 7 for the festivities. 90% of the ship was shoved into the small back of the boat around the pool. They made the Pilipino crew dress up in mer-army attire. Which I found both funny and sad. I mean did they have these costumes or did they give them to them? They had little aluminum foil helmets and green face paint. The teachers went all out too. In robes with green beards and strange make up. Sitting at the front of the pool was one of the administrators, painted neon green from head to toe. His queen/wifey sat next to him in similar garb. We were then told by the announcer that we must pay homage to the Neptune if we wished to cross the equator. We were to turn from “pollywogs”to “shell backs”. This transformation required having fish goo poured on you, jumping into the pool, kissing a dead fish, and then bowing to the imposter Greek god. Afterwards you shaved your head. Yah you heard me, shaved your head. Um, no thanx. I’m good. It took me 20 years to grow this hair, I wasn’t going to give it up now! But many people did. Surprisingly, many females did. There were a lot of regretful tears a couple hours later and the possibility of a support group for peer pressure induced baldness is rumored to be forming. Many of the “barbers”AKA the librarians and one of the janitorial staff had regular scissors and were just going at it! After the heinous hair job, a man at the end of the line would buzz it. Not really my cup of tea. But it was very entertaining to watch. Haha.

It was a beautiful day, the ocean was 80 degrees! We grabbed our swimsuits and headed out to grab some color, skin color that is. I have none. Sunbathing off the coast of Africa!? Yes please. A smoothie? Yes please. Only problem: my body hasn’t seen the light of day in 4 months…thus even with the proper protection, SPF 50, I still look like a tomato. It’s unfortunate but I guess I’m used to it. My new addiction: aloe. But the rest of the day was spent hanging out and other such leisurely activities. They even had a BBQ for dinner and I had my first hamburger in a little over 3 weeks! IT WAS AMAZING! Overall, best Neptune Day I’ve ever had. Found out later that we wouldn’t be crossing the equator for another day and a half, but still.

2009-02-10T05:20:00.000-08:00

Day 22 &23: Um…

Class and sleeping. I swear they must put tranquilizers in the food because I am always exhausted.

2009-02-10T05:18:00.000-08:00

Day 21: Stabilizing.

Today we went back to school. An alien concept. I have been popping Meclezine like nobodies business and unfortunately it has been making me extremely tired. After class I pretty much just slept until dinner. Haha. The swaying of the ship can make you amazingly tired. Apparently, the tiredness experienced by almost everyone on board is a form of mild sicknesses. But we did make it to pub night tonight. Pub night is held on the seventh deck, the pool deck, almost every evening. It is a gathering of most SAS students to enjoy a glass of wine and a some light conversation or board games. We brought up Catch Phrase, played for a while with some new peeps but found that because it was so loud you couldn’t hear the beeper and surprisingly the game wasn’t nearly as fun. I carried it around for the rest of the evening a received many future challenges that we will have to follow up on. Jane, Katherine, and I roamed from group to group hanging out, chatting, and meeting some new people. Each conversation started with the same questions. It’s fun to find the little connections between all the semester at sea-ers. There is a guy from Santa Rosa, a person that knows Sophie, and many more weird little unexpected ties. College really is a small world! It fun to chit chat with everyone as at least now we have Spain and Morocco in common so that gives everyone fairly common ground. But I’m exhausted from my heavy day of sleeping, so bed time.

2009-02-10T05:14:00.000-08:00

Day 20: Here’s looking at you, Casablanca

We slept in a little and made it off the boat by 10. The port is extremely industrial and after a 10 minute walk it began to rain and then began to pour. We were picked up by a cab driver about 10 minutes after the rain began and were happy to jump inside the dry cab. On the way we saw one of my teachers. She hailed us and jumped in the cab as well. One thing you have to know about the cabs in Morocco is that there are 2 kinds. Petite cab, which are these tiny red clown car cabs in which the drivers rarely speak English and they zip around only the city center, and grand cabs which leave the city and are considerably more expensive. The grand cabs are nicer, the drivers speak English and they are all beige older Mercedes. Our cab driver was friendly enough and we asked him to take us to the King Hassar Mosque, our teacher wanted to be dropped off just outside the city. Our teacher asked how much the cab ride would be, the cab driver responded 50 Durum. She was not pleased with this response, not knowing it was a grand cab. They got into a bit of a disagreement over price, she told him to stop he threw her money back at her and we continued on to the mosque a little shaken. We arrived at the mosque in one piece and it was worth the $10 cab ride across town, in my opinion. It was POURING! But the mosque was beautiful and absolutely enormous. The plaza in front of the main mosque was completely flat; which didn’t help with the weather situation, as the wind picked up over the plaza making it nearly impossible to walk. This mosque is the 2nd largest mosque in the world and it has the tallest minaret in the world. We trekked across the barren plaza to see if we could get inside. This mosque is open to non-Muslim visitors but unfortunately because of the timing and the weather we could not get inside. We took a picture in front of one of the doors and even with the camera zoomed in all the way, I still look kind of ant-ish. I can not even begin to describe to you its grandeur. They say Americans like it bigger but it seems that every monument we see is bigger than the last! Even with its size, the mosque had the intricate tile work and beautiful coloring typical of everything we had seen in Morocco. The wind had pick up so much over the flat plaza that small chips of tiles started to fly across and hit us! I may still have some ceramic still embedded in my arm. As we were not allowed to go inside, we looked around and then headed back to the taxi center. Katherine’s French is amazing and we got a petite taxi driver that was very friendly and offered to take us to the souk for one fourth the price of the previous driver. As we made our way across town just as the sun began to come out. He even gave us a little tour of the city, pounting out the high school, the consulate, the parks, and many other destinations. The people of Casablanca were looking to be much friendlier and less money grubbing then those of Marrakech. It was a very nice ride and we thanked him for his tour and help. We made our way into the souks of Casablanca in the New Medina. They were much smaller in size but had the same general merchandise. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the merchants were much less aggressive. The first shop we went into was owned by a young man in her late 20s/ early 30s named Abdeer (butchered spelling of course). He was very helpful and accommodative. We were extremely interested in these pillows (pillows for you mom). He made us an excellent price and when naming off other items we were looking for he seemed to have them all. He was very impressed with Katherine’s French and we were able to have a very lovely conversation. He commented on my semester at sea water bottle and asked if I would be willing to sell it to him. He said that it was impossible to find a non-disposable water bottle in Casablanca and that he played sports and desperately wanted one. He had this funny high pitched almost feminine laugh that was extremely endearing. I took my little pink semester at sea water bottle from my bag and he looked at it with a huge grin. I told him that I would trade him one of his amber necklaces for it. He hesitated for a minute and then agreed. I have come to notice that there is an automatic hesitation among all Moroccan merchants, a little trick they use so you think that you are straining them. He looked ecstatic and kept asking if I was sure I wanted to part with it. So there you go mom, I bought your amber necklace with a water bottle. We paid for our items and I asked him were I could find a silver pendant of Mohammad’s daughter’s hand, that is seen as a protector from the evil eye. He personally walked us to the store and even convinced the store’s owner “To just give it to her!”when we were haggling. I ended up going back and buying my brothers some very sheik jackets from him as well. When we asked where we could find local spices, he carried our bags and walked us to a little whole in the wall store near by. As we left we thanked him and he insisted on haling us a taxi and helping us to describe an internet café to the driver. He was so cheery and helpful. He was the first person in Morocco to seem to want to help with limited self interest driving him and we held an actual conversation. A very genuine person. He had given us a really good price on everything and even offered us the highest compliment in Morocco, to sit down and chat over mint tea. Unfortunately, we had to go. We head off to an internet café, dropped off, the driver assured us it was behind the café. We ran through the rain and accidentally walked into a pool hall. There seems to be many pool halls in the back of most of the cafes, an interesting concept. I didn’t really see the Moroccan as big pool people but ok. We finally found it and we spent some time with my long lost friend, Facebook and uploaded some photos. After a good couple of hours, getting our computer fix we made our way over to a little café across the street. The café was filled with students, local college students I think. There were only locals and we ordered some Mint tea, quite delicious. When we asked the waiter if they served food, he said no. He came back about 2 minutes later and asked if we were still hungry, saying “Pizza?”Well that sounded to delicious to pass up and he had one of the bus boys run across the street to a small Moroccan Pizzeria. We finished our tea just as the pizza arrived. We thanked him profusely and opened the box to discover a mushroom, lamb sausage, olive, and sweet pepper pizza. It was quite delicious! I was very surprised. After the café we walked around Casablanca. We walked through a residential area, which was surprisingly nice with palm trees lining the streets. We wandered down the streets in search of little shops but there was a surprising lack of them. Only cafés. As we decided it would be best to start getting back to the ship, we hailed a cab. We jumped in a petite taxi and attempted to explain to him the word “boat’in French. You think this would be easier than it turned out to be. “We are American and came over on the ocean on this transport. We would like to return to this, so we can leave.”The entire description had accompanying hand signals but he just wasn’t getting it so we hopped out. As we wandered around a little more and we found a man smoking a cigarette and Katherine began to talk to him in French. He asked if we needed him to get us a taxi. We then tried to ask him what the word for boat is. He did not know. Finally, I remembered that I had a pad of paper in my backpack and quickly grabbed it to play a short game of pictionary. We won and he said with a sigh of understanding “O boat”. Turns out he was a cab driver that was currently taking a break but after his cigarette he would take us there. We were very relieved and very thankful, from then on resolving to know the word ‘boat’in every country. Who thought it would be so hard? We got in the petite taxi and soon realized that this man was a previous employee of Mr. Toads Wild Ride. To be completely honest I don’t know how people don’t kill each other, we never saw accident but were almost in at least 20. There are barely any stop lights. No one really follows them. Everyone quickly cuts in front of everyone else, 1 lane roads suddenly by a whim is made into 3 lane roads, and the only way to deal with pedestrians is to get about a foot away from them and then swerve. I thought we were going to be T-boned like 7 times in the 15 minute ride. But we made it back to the ship safely though I may have left a couple months of my life inside the taxi.
After getting back on the ship we went out to a little stand in the port area and picked up some Moroccan snacks and then headed back to the ship again. After getting on board, all disgusting and smelly we headed back to room to reconnect with the outside world via email. At all time it kind of feels like you are living in this bubble. Even when in port, you are always separated from what’s happening at home. Home effects you so much less here. But as we sat in our cabins ready to wave good bye to Morocco, Captain Jeremy came over the loud speaker. As I have mentioned before, when Jeremy comes over the loud speaker it’s not good. He said that we would be incurring some similar rough seas as we left Casablanca and that the best thing for us to do was go to our cabins and remain seated. After about 15 minutes we begin our departure. I was sitting on my bed writing an email when the first swell hit. We rocked baaaaaaackkkk and then foooorrrrttthhh. Suddenly to my amazement the bed dislodged from the wall and we slid clear across the room. The bag of school supplies for the Namibian program (it weighs at least 70 lbs) slid across the room as though it was full of feathers. Drawers started opening and you could here everything in the bathroom flying about like a giant pinball machine. It lasted for about 10 very long minutes and then someone came over the loud speaker, “Code Blue in Cabin 5093”. Katherine and I just looked at each other. Doesn’t that mean someone is dying? Well we found out today that one of the teachers was hit by a flying television and needed stitches. Additionally, someone had broken their wrist chair surfing in the Union during the rough weather. Haha There were multiple staff and students walking around the day after with slings and braces. Nothing to laugh at but still at least a little entertaining. After this little incident, the sickness of the sea hit me like a ton of bricks. All I wanted to do was puke. It was pretty rough for the rest of the night. I hope this doesn’t continue to be a trend…But the trip has been amazing so far. All the little faults I describe are nothing compared to the amazingness of all countries we have visited. I truly feel blessed every day to have this opportunity and it is wild to think that we are only 3 weeks into it.

2009-02-05T09:34:00.000-08:00

Day 19: Berber

We started the morning off right. Oranges are native to the region and are very very sweet. We had fresh squeezed orange juice and French pastries at the hotel and then loaded the bus to start our last day in beautiful Marrakech. We head for the Atlas Mountains about 30 minutes outside of the city. In these mountains lives the rural Berber population of Morocco. The bus pulled over to an Adobe house on the side of a lush green hillside. It was sprinkling and small streams of red mud streamed past us as we made our way to the house. We entered in through the side yard and were greeted by a 74 year old woman in mumbled Arabic. We walked into the backyard and up the back stares, admiring the craftsmanship and sturdiness of this simple but large home. We were told that 4 generations lived there and that there were about 40 in habitants in this house. We were lead into a medium sized kitchen area and were invited to sit around the periphery. We were there for tea and bread and to learn a little about the Berber lifestyle. The house was simple and bulky but amazing. As we all entered the room you could see the rooms of the 3 children and everyone was just waking about, just having woken up. A young boy waddled out of the room bundled like it was 20 degrees outside. He called for his mother and Arabic and she left the stove to attend to him. One woman was making flat bread on a wood burning stove in the upper part of the kitchen. The grandmother sat at the lower part teaching us to make the traditional Moroccan mint tea. First starting with a Chinese green tea base and then adding hot water and fresh mint leaves to a silver teapot. She stuck the pots back on the stove to steep and then showed us the traditional cone of sugar. They don’t use cubes but rather chip large bricks off of this cone. This is why Moroccan tea is so sweet. They graciously served us the tea and bread. The bread tasted exactly like an English muffins! To eat with the bread there was honey, olive oil (local specialty), and the most amazing homemade butter. It was an amazing experience to be able to out into the mountain and see another side of Morocco. These people were so gracious and kind, the women still a little reserved. This was a truly unique and special experience that I will continue to cherish. We loaded the buses and made a few stops at some shops in the Atlas Mountain. I purchase a beautiful platter that I have no clue how I am getting home but I hope mom will like it! We made the trek back to Marrakech and were let off at the souks for some shopping. This was a very fun experience as there is so much cool stuff to buy. But you learned fast that even when asking less than half the price offered things were still semi-expensive. Everything was of good quality but definitely not dirt cheap. After some fine purchases we headed back for a lunch of saffron chicken and potatoes. Amazing, as usual. After lunch we boarded the buses for the last time to head back to Casablanca. It is nice to be in the bubble of the ship once again. Tomorrow we explore Casablanca and hopefully the King Hassar Mosque.

2009-02-05T09:30:00.000-08:00

Day 18: The Land of a Million Car Sales Men

We arose early in the morning once again…I see this as a common theme. Disheartening but necessary I suppose. We loaded the buses to go to Marrakech, about a 3 hour drive from Casablanca. Sidenote: the port in which we are docked is much more industrial than the last and is even kind of creepy. Our tour guide was a older Arab man by the name of…you guessed it…Mohammad! As we drove through Casablanca it soon became apparent that this pretty much looked like the dirtier version of a French city: large and bustling, with tall European builders and a modern population to go along with it. We traveled out of Casablanca to begin our drive through the Moroccan countryside. Morocco has warm weather 300 days out of the year. Incidentally, we were there within those cooler 56 days…It’s their winter. It was slightly overcast and a little brisk but still sunny. The Moroccan countryside during the “winter”is beautiful. Because of the large amounts of agriculture and the extremely fertile soil, every thing is green! As you drove along the highway you would see patchwork fields separated by groves of cactus. Roaming within these fields were shepards with their flocks and a surprising amount of cows. All the sides of the road you would see mule-drawn carriages and just a small peak into the lifestyle of a rural Moroccan. Scattered along the hills were small square adobe huts, clustered together in bunches of 5 or 10. We would later get to go and visit one of these homes and villages. Upon arriving in Marrakech we went a French garden on the outskirts of town. It was filled with cactus, bamboo, and other beautiful plants but what was even more beautiful were the colors. They paint their building such beautiful vibrant colors. We then hopped back on the bus to head to a much needed lunch. We disembarked from the buses right in front of a mosque. The minaret at this mosque was the tallest building in the entire city. No one is allowed to build more than 5 stories (or taller than the mosque) as they can not block the call to prayer. We arrived just as the 3rd call to prayer was being echoed. I was surprised that few Moroccans stopped to pray. The restaurant was at one side of a large open air square and market. We walked across, gawking at snake charmers, monkeys, dancers, acrobats, and anything you could ever imagine. We sat on the veranda of the restaurant and enjoyed the view of the square. The food was amazing!! We started off with huge rounds of bread and this eggplant moosh appetizer and the moved on to some delicious lamb with dates and nuts. Everything was perfectly seasoned and tender. The lamb fell right off the bone. For dessert we had a vanilla yogurt which I thought was quite good. After a delectable lunch we head out to see the palace of the vizier. This place used to be the home of the vizier and his 4 “official wives”. As expected the palace was intricate and beautiful. The ceilings were all painted cedar and the walls covered in carefully carved Islamic blessings. The favorite wife of the vizier had the largest and most beautiful room. The color vibrant blue, that is signature to Morocco, was everywhere. It has made its way into my top 2 official favorite colors. As we left I was excited to do a little shopping. We had seen part of the square and the shops contained some of the most uniquely beautiful items. Unfortunately, Mohammad had a schedule. We spent about 40 minutes walking through the souks, or the open air markets, briskly viewing the piles of spices, leather goods, olives, silver jewelry, and just about everything Moroccan you could imagine. It was an amazing experience just to walk through them. It looks much like the market in Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Arc. What was even more both entertaining and sometimes creepy was the cat calls. We often received the below cat calls:

-“Hey Spice Girls!”
-“Fish and chips!”
-“Pretty (insert item), for you pretty lady.”
-“I like your hair!”
-“Beautiful lady, do you need a Moroccan husband?”
-“Lady Diana!”

But the strangest of them all was “Are you Japanese?”NO! I am not Japanese…Another personal favorite was when were walking through the souks with a male friend and he was approached and offered 2,000 camels each for me and Katherine, our friend respectfully declined. Continuing to walk, my price reached an all time high of 3,000 camels. It was my exotic Japanese look I suppose. Almost all the hassling that we received was purely for reaction, which they rarely got, and they normally would never actually touch you. Many of them thought that we were British, thus the whole ‘fish and chips’thing. But as funny as it was, it was all a little discomforting. Of all the countries I have been to in my life, I felt most uncomfortable in Morocco. Between the constant hassling, even when wearing a hijab, and the blunt sexual gestures by the men, it was hard not to feel uncomfortable. It is interesting to see that almost all of the woman were at least hijabs and most wear the dress. About 20% or so wear the complete head to toe dress with a small slit for the eyes. All the women have their eyes to the ground at almost all times. As women, we too were told not to make eye contact with the men. It was a very different concept not to make eye contact with people when speaking to them. But I can see why as I avoided many hassling street venders with a simple “No, merci”and no eye contact. Language proved to be the most uncomfortable barrier as you don’t know what people are saying to each other or to you. Many of the merchants spoke some English and they all spoke money. That was another interesting concept. Money. Any way the could think of to extort money out of you they would. If you took a picture of someone, they would stick their hand out and demand a tip. If they put a monkey on you, they put their hand out and demanded a tip. There was nothing you could do without paying for it. I understand why but it was still a strange concept and there was a lack of charisma to the way people did business. After a very long day we returned went to check in to our hotel. A very nice hotel. I have been impressed with the quality of lodging SAS has set up for us. The rooms were spacious and traditional with two twin beds a regular bathroom and a beautiful balcony. I crashed, exhausted. We were to have dinner at a cultural performance called “Fantasia”later that night. Katherine and I explored a little. The hotel was huge with interior fountains and even a very nice pool. We went to the front desk to ask about purchasing phone cards. Upon getting directions, we ran across the street to a little stand bought phone cards and headed off the corner payphone. This was a fun experience. While trying to make some phone calls a man probably in his 20s kept looking at us. We immediately put our scarves over our heads, which helped but he continued to stare. He then decided to start grabbing his crouch and thrusting towards us. What was this guy doing! I kept turning and he would cross the street so as to be in my line of vision. Great. Let’s just say it was a quick phone call. As we walked back we realized that there were no women on the street. Great. As we were walking back we realized we were late for the show! We sprinted around the corner and hopped the bus just in time. We shortly arrived at what would turn out to be Morocco Disneyland. It was this large open air arena with surrounding embellished buildings. We moseyed around and watched the variety of performers. They were all in traditional Moroccan dress but all looked miserable. This was definitely not the happiest place on earth. We were shuffled into groups to our meal. It was held in an over the top tent. The tent was lined completely in red velvet and looked like something literally out the Aladdin section of Disneyland. Servers began to bring in the food: lamb and lentil soup, lamb meatballs and eggs, saffron couscous and chicken, and of course delicious bread. It was a traditional Moroccan meal and was the best meal I have had on the trip so far. Throughout the dinner, different dance groups would come in and entertain. All the women in these groups looked miserable. They would frown and dance. Everyone felt incredibly uncomfortable. After the meal we headed out for the horse show. A man preformed some impressive horse acrobatics; there was a belly dancer as well as some good ol’gun shooting. A very commercial show beginning with the Star Wars soundtrack and ending with some American jams. Headed back and hit the pillow.

2009-02-05T09:29:00.002-08:00

Day 17: Maybe I should attempt to signal a boat to ferry us across?

It is so strange to think that it has been over 2 weeks. At sea, time seems to stand still. It becomes irrelevant really. In port, time flies by. Today was an interesting day aboard the good ship Explorer. They attempted to entertain and console the population with movies and ice cream sundaes. Sadly enough it seemed to work. Well all up until dinner. We arrived in port early in the evening but not without a bit of excitement. Right before Katherine and I headed off to the dining hall to grab some dinner, the captain came over the intercom. This was a unique occurrence as the captain very very rarely played the voice of God. Jeremy, as I so lovingly call him, warned us of a ‘bit of rockiness that was to be expected within the next couple of minutes as we came around a sharp turn to port in Morocco.’With limited concern, Katherine and I headed off as not to miss dinner. We grabbed our food and ended up accidentally sitting at one of the adult tables. The teachers and other staff are made to eat with the students as a way to form a sense of community. I really don’t think that they (the adults) are a fan of the idea as they almost always all sit together in their little teacher cliques. I suppose some things really don’t change as you age. As I was about to dig into my pasta, the ship started rocking back and forth and then suddenly as you looked out the window you could see the light of Casablanca come into view and then completely disappear. It continued to get worse as flatware started flying out of drawers and glasses quickly migrating across tables. The entire ship was at an almost complete tilt and people in their chairs began to crash backwards. It was ridiculous. We were all helpless, grasping on to the tables that were thankfully bolted to the floor. This went on for about 10 minutes and has proven to be the wildest thing that has happened on board. As I look at the coast of Morocco, I am brimming with excitement. Even with the delay of our trip we will still get to go to Marrakech and hiking through the mountain villages. We were very lucky to not have anything cancelled and it has proven worth the money to book with SAS. Morocco here we come!

2009-02-05T09:29:00.001-08:00

Day 15: Our last day in the land of fabulous coffee

We woke up a little later today and went out to Cadiz to finish errands and to find some good ol’internet so I could apply for my Theta scholarship. It turned out to be an extremely stressful day. It started out easy as we went to a more local restaurant at the Plaza de Flores. We sat down and ordered coffee and churros con chocolate, by far the most amazing food known to man. The churros are thin and warm and the chocolate is hot and thick. Quite the breakfast food. We then wandered over to an open air market with fish, fruit, and vegetables as far as the eye could see. The food looked amazingly fresh and I wish only to live in a place with such amazing seafood and vegetables at my fingertips. Then the stressful part of the day came. We have to be on the boat at a certain time or they begin to dock time from the next port, 3 hours for every 15 minutes you are late. Pretty harsh. They also have this rule were even if you are standing in line, you still get docked time. Even more harsh. But we wandered out and sat at a Ben &Jerry’s in front of the Cathedral, there are tons of free wifi spots in Spain. I got most of the scholarship done and some pictures uploaded when my computer completely died. I was upset to say the least. It would only be the beginning of my technology problems of the day. We headed back to the ship shortly after to let the computer charge. We went out to spend our remaining euros and finish exploring Cadiz. After a successful shopping trip and with souvenirs in hand, we speed walked to a local internet café. The woman spoke no English and there were no computers open. I tried to figure out how to say that we would wait. She just looked at me. We went and sat down in some small chairs as I tried to revive my computer to get some of the pictures stored on it. The external hard drive was not functioning. Of course. When we finally got a computer we realized the keyboards were different in the most difficult of ways. No shift key and the most awkwardly placed capitalization key. I attempted to fill out my scholarship when I realized my personal statement was on the computer. Kill me. I tried to upload the few pictures I managed to get onto the external hard drive. It was all in Spanish and would only load one picture at a time. The crying baby in the background really didn’t help. By this point I was so frustrated just trying to write a simple email that I just shut it off and left. None of this would have really been half as aggravating if we weren’t on such a tight timeline. We practically ran to the boat and I grabbed my computer and went to a local bus station. The internet cut out on my twice mid-application. All I really wanted to do was throw my computer across the room and go grab some churros con chocolate. I finally finished the scholarship and upload some picture but probably at the cost of 2 years of my life. I sprinted back to make it on the boat on time and just barely scraped by with 10 minutes to spare. The drunken boy behind me really didn’t help. Apparently being drunk in the middle of the afternoon as a result of a “to go beer”from Burger King is OK now a days. The kid wouldn’t stop talking about his damn kid’s meal!

2009-02-05T09:29:00.000-08:00

Day 16: Conspiracy?

Today was spent sleeping in a recovering from the non-stop days in Spain. After a short lunch we went out to see the shores of Gibraltar (A rock island off the coast of Spain and Morocco) and the shores of Morocco. The shore of Morocco were clear with a skyline of peachy colored hotel; this would later become the root of frustration as we will not be getting to Morocco until tomorrow evening rather than our schedule morning embankment. I spent most of the day sleeping and replying to emails. We attended our briefing this evening to get all the info about Morocco. It was here that we were told that because of the bad weather throughout the day, which I saw and felt only a little, that the ship was not able to get any fuel. This was an interesting concept as the fuel boat that was attached to our ship all day seemed to be doing a great deal of pumping and the entire ship smelled like gas. It is also interesting that we spent all day in one spot, looking at Morocco with the engines on. If we have a gas shortage why are the engines on? Now at 2 in the morning we are sitting here as I try and signal a small boat to ferry us to Morocco. It is quite frustrating to know that we are missing a day in one of the countries that I was looking the most forward to but I suppose there is little I can do. There are others with travel arrangements that are completely destroyed by this delay, so I suppose I should consider myself lucky. Nothing really else to report. We have tomorrow off to hang around the boat…

2009-02-05T09:28:00.000-08:00

Day 14: Cordova. For real.

Cordova is fairly commercial and language was less of a barrier here. We ate breakfast and boarded the bus. It was foggy but decent weather for morning walking as we exited for another walking tour of the city. Lead by a woman with a very intimidating green umbrella, we walked the narrow streets until we came to the Jewish quarter of the city. We were told that there were very few Jews left in the city as pretty much all were exiled. Jeez the Jews really seem to have had a string of bad luck for the past couple of centuries. We visited a one room Synagogue, mostly because it was the only thing open at the early hour and then headed to the Cathedral of Cordova. This was quite a cathedral. It used to be a mosque until it was converted. Seems to be one of the themes of the trip. Throw up a crucifix and call it a Christian church! The “Cathedral”was huge and had these large open rooms with rows upon rows of columns. It was unique and very astatically pleasing. The architecture still amazes me. How could they build something which has such longevity, height, and complexity without modern tools?! I mean these people were amazingly intelligent. I can probably guarantee you that they would do far better on the math section of the GMAT than I ever will. Do people really have that kind of innovative capacity anymore? To comprehend and then execute something that even today seems bordering on impossible for even an educated mind? Literally mind boggling. The theme of the day was churches and we visited two other sites that were Islamic mosques converted to either Catholic churches…. or Catholic churches. This is the most I have gone to church in years! The Cathedral was the most amazing by far, something a little different, no thanks to the Catholic influence. Today was a little more condensed as had to be back at 12 to grab lunch and load the buses. We left and drove 4 hours home. A lovely bus siesta. I was actually surprisingly excited to see the grand ol’ship. I enjoyed some lovely FREE tomato soup from the dining hall and we head out to do a little strolling at the post –siesta shop re-openings. I bought a phone card and later was happy to talk to my mom (hi mom, I know your reading this) and attempted to contact a few others. It rained for the first time tonight and I’m hoping that tomorrow’s errands in Cadiz aren’t made more difficult by the bad weather. I have this sneaking suspicion that I will in fact fall on my ass if the cobblestone is wet as I have already encountered some bad luck with the local pigeons. The pigeons already have taken a liking to me pooing on me twice since I’ve been here. The cobble stones streets need a sign that says “Death trap when wet”.

2009-02-05T09:26:00.000-08:00

Day 13: When in Spain…

We woke up at the wee hours of the morning. Again. Two and a half hours before sunrise and after a long day yesterday, it was not an easy morning. We loaded the buses and head off to Sevilla, a medium size town about 2 hours north. I had loved Cadiz and was anxious to see a more modern side of Spain. As we drove through Sevilla it had a more modern European feel with touches of the old world. Sevilla’s claim to fame was an exposition held there in 1929. Each country that was in attendance had its own representative building. All of them beautifully decorate and palatial and many of them converted into consulates after the exposition. Of course the most magnificent of them all was that of Spain. We departed the bus for our walking tour of Sevilla lead by a very “confident”/bordering on egotistical Spanish tour guide, Carlos. We had not seen a building this large the entire trip and it was difficult to process in comparison to quaintness of Cadiz. After a short stint at the monument to the grandeur of old world Spain we headed off to the old palace of the Spanish monarch, incidentally also a monument to past wealth. The palace serves as one of the king’s residences though apparently he doesn’t really visit anymore. I’m pretty sure he is thinking about renting it out as a time share. You can really start to see the Arab influence. Everything was meticulous. Entering into the first rooms and just looking at one portion could take hours. The craftsmanship! The walls were covered in ceramic with interlacing geometric patterns, each piece cut individually. The ceilings were all carved cedar stolen, I mean “given”, by Cuba. Islamic prayers and blessings lined the walls. I attempted to take photos but they really do it NO justice. I genuinely question whether we have evolved in certain areas of humanity. We seem to put so little effort into things now. Is finding beauty in simplicity just a societal co-out? I’m pretty sure the Arabs thought so. After the palace we went to the 2nd largest church in the world. They were not messing around. It was HUGE! It was gothic to the max, continuous peaking towers and sharp arches created a sense of seriousness that was I’m sure reflected in the all masses held there, only in Latin of course. Upon entering the church, I was overwhelmed to say the least. Mahogany from Cuba, marble, gold, not to mention the sheer enormity of the ceiling made you feel small and almost unworthy. As we wandered the church and viewed the golden incrusted everything, you begin to think about religion. Religious institution has truly changed. The beauty and grandeur of a church is now looked up as almost sinful by us “common”modern people. But the churches of this thread of Catholicism created “essential”emerald encrusted bread boxes that could feed whole cities, if melted down. It is not a foreign concept if you have ever visited the Vatican. It is amazing and wonderful that some institution could have the resources to create such art but you have to be naïve not to question why of organization that are supposed build themselves morally outward would rather build lavishly upward. It still puzzles me. But anyway. One highlight was viewing the official crypt of Christopher Columbus. Via DNA evidence they have determined that the 300 grams of matter in that apparently unnecessarily large coffin were definitely Chris. We then went to a little hole in the wall Spanish restraint in which we enjoyed tapas and, what would turn out to be, a 7 course meal. After this we were given an hour of free time. Jane, the Aly LeBlanc of SAS, Katherine and I went on a little shopping trip through the streets of the more globalized Sevilla. We weaved in and out of streets stopping and through a cute open air market. It was a very commercials area and we got our necessary postcards and memorabilia. We wandered back and boarded the bus. In another 2 hours we would arrive at our hotel in Cordova. Melting with exhaustion, a nap and postcard writing were the only really activities I desired. The hotel was surprisingly nice, with large plush towels. One thing that was entertaining was the lights. You had to put your room key in a slot to turn on the lights, which of course they don’t really tell you. Strange. We attended dinner in the hotel, buffet style. I thought it was good, the bread is amazing here. They are big into the cured meat though. After dinner we returned to our rooms and prepared for a night on the town! Everyone got all dressed up and met in the lobby. We got direction and attempted to find a local Spanish bar. It seemed the only bar we could find was an Irish pub...not exactly exotic. We kept wandering upon we stumble upon a club promoter who oh so kindly brought us back to his bar and started us off with a round of free shots. Most of the bar was filled with SAS kids but the 1 euro beer and shots seemed to keep everyone happy. We hopped along from bar to bar (one of which may have been a gay bar…) and enjoyed the joy of pre-mature 21-hood with a large Boston ex-football player that I nicknamed PB&J as our interceptor of sleazy Spainard. Definitely a fun experience. Off to bed for an early wake up.

2009-02-05T09:25:00.002-08:00

Day 8 &9: It’s a ship not a boat. Apparently.

Not a great deal has changed over the last couple of days. Every day on the ship is very similar to the last. With limited things to really do, it’s more of just a selection of what order to do things in. Global studies has remained one of the most thorough reviews of fourth grade curriculum imaginable. Thank God, my other classes have proven to be more interesting. But what IS interesting is the added challenges of learning on a ship. The constant rocking, which has become soothing enough to lull many to sleep, the insta-classrooms, assembled with the sliding of a few thin cubicle walls, and continuous intercom interruptions. Though it has been easy to complete homework and reading, as there is little else to do.

I have come to enjoy the staff. Many of them are very cheery and extremely obliging. Our cabin steward, Edgar, cleans our cabin daily. Upon leaving my notebook in the room, I went back to get it. He was diligently working and I made a point to comment that we are really grateful for all he does. That if he was ever looking for employment in the California area to look me up. He smiled shyly and then responded “Well we try to make you feel warm and happy.”It was by far the most sincere response possible. A similar story is from dinner the other night. One of our waiters came over and we started to discuss how we heard about the program. He was a tall Jamaican man and desperately wanted to tell us a joke. Right before the joke I asked him a question and attempted to look at his name tag to refer to him by name. Personalize the conversation. The glare caught the golden tag and I read “Olive”instead of “Clive”. Unfortunately, I didn’t quite think it through before expressing my sentiment and calling him a garnish. That’s right I called our waiter Olive…he didn’t catch it. But Katherine did and she couldn’t stop laughing. It was contagious and through his entire joke we were howling. It was quite embarrassing.

It is very strange to think that though it is almost 1 in the morning and still dinner time at home. We advance an hour each night in an attempt to gradually catch up with Spanish time. But it all seems so arbitrary. The captain could state it was pretty much any time based on a relative lightness or darkness outside and it would be accepted by the general population. It’s a strange concept to have, what seems, just one person choosing the time as he pleases. He really does play the role of God on these trips. He is the voice from the sky. I wonder what this does to his ego? Well nothing really new to report. The same old, same old.

2009-02-05T09:25:00.001-08:00

Day 10 &11: Ship

Still on the ship. Spain is getting nearer…

2009-02-05T09:25:00.000-08:00

Day 12: SPAIN!

I woke at 7:30 A.M. for Spain. For those of you that know me, this is a big deal. As our ship docked, Cadiz, Spain began to come into view. It all still didn’t seem real yet. I mean how could we be in Spain, I was still fairly convinced that we were just sailing around in circles. But as we ate breakfast and lined up, some of the first to disembark, it all started to come a little more into focus, we were in Spain! The idea that I am going around the world and this is how it is to begin hit me like a ton of bricks. Katherine and I jumped onto land with glee that I have never experienced at such an amazingly early hour. The town center is about 2 minutes from the ship and we immediately went in search of an ATM. After recovering from the devastation of the current exchange rate we headed out to explore. I had to keep mentally pinching myself “We are in Spain. We are in Spain.”First thing we learned: the Spaniards are not morning people. There were very few people out and the only places open at 8 A.M. were bars…Hm…Sad thing is many of them had some patrons enjoying a morning beer/scotch. We wandered for about 20 minutes, strolling the streets and attempting to get some grasp on the city. We wandered through town to the outskirts where we ended up on a beach. From this beach we watched the last of the sun come up and looked upon “Old Cadiz”. Immediately desiring a photo, we looked around to attempt to find a person to take it. We had limited choices: a woman planning a game of fetch with her dog using a plastic bottle instead of the conventional stick or an old man sitting on a bench. Not wanting to disturb the woman’s eco-friendly yet unusual recreational activity I approached the old man. As I walked up I noticed he was drinking a fine carton, that’s right carton, of white wine. I kindly asked in broken Spanish if he could take the photo for us and surprisingly he understood and took our picture while yelling “AQUI, AQUI”. T’was very entertaining to say the least, a good introduction to Spanish culture. We then spent the rest of the morning wandering through the slender ally ways of the city, going in and out of shops. As we attempted to get postcards and directions to specific plazas it became evident quickly that people truly spoke almost no English. I figured that of all places, Spain would be the easiest to navigate as far as language but I had to use my broken Spanish in every location. Despite the struggle, it made me really happy that almost none of the merchants seemed to know English. In fact, the only conversation I had in English was with an agent at the post office, who took pity on my Spanish stumbling, saying “It’s ok. Yes we have stamps, how many do you want?”After wandering about, we plopped down at a little café. Now, I am not a fan of coffee, never have been. But I heard that Spanish coffee is amazing. I ordered a coffee and toast as the elderly couple beside had. Best decision of my day. The coffee was amazing! I would have 2 more cups that day…As we sat and people watched from the café, you notice a large population of elderly. It is amazing how much more active the Spanish elderly seem. They walk in couples with little difficulty down the cobblestone streets, arms linked, supporting each other. Metaphor? Maybe, maybe not, but it is something you really don’t see that much back in the states. Another observation. All of the young adolescent boys had mullets…and they weren’t kidding around. These mullets were very distinctly business in the front, party in the back. T’was quite a treat for the eyes.

After being introduced to my new addiction, Spanish coffee, I was extremely energized and ready to go! We headed back to the ship to meet up for our guided city orientation. We hopped on a bus to be dropped off not 200 feet from where we boarded. Haha. Our tour guide, a woman that looked like a very sheik midget standing next to me, lead us up through the town center to city hall. She recited the history of Cadiz, tales of its grandeur and explaining its claims to fame including the site of the departure of Christopher Columbus’second voyage. We wandered from plaza to plaza each having its own distinct personality. We visited the Cathedral Nueva, which was enormous and was very Italian and not very Spanish. Haha. Excellent! We wandered over to my favorite plaza: Plaza de Flores. This plaza is known for its beautiful flower venders. We were allowed some free time and roamed the shops and restaurants. As much of the city is, the plaza was very picturesque. Everyone was very charming. I was surprised to find that the prices were decent, especially the shoes…dangerous. Later that night we returned to the plaza to enjoy some delicious seafood paella and more coffee :) and yummy churros. The food is REALLY REALLY good and I was surprised with all the options. They give you 5 menus, horrible circumstance for a person like me that has a hard enough time making decisions. We strolled the shops and the rest of the city until the early evening and then made our way back to the ship to board a bus to go to FLAMENCO night! I was exhausted, to say the least, and was purely functioning off the lasting buzz of my last coffee. We arrived at Flamenco night, greeted by little shots of white and red wine. We all shuffled into to a cement stadium and took our seats. The music thundered; the dancers entered and proceeded to circle around this horse. Each took their turn at seducing the horse. Hmmm…ok…After a short performance the bull fight began. That was quite fun and even comical as the bull seemed to run away from the bull fighters to the sounds of pre-recorded “Ole”s. But I suppose the bull fighters didn’t look very intimidating in their collared shirts and sweater vests. No joke. Haha. I got it all on tape for your viewing pleasure upon my arrival back home. After the fight we went over to a large dining area and enjoyed Sangria and tapas by candle light as the Flamenco dancers swayed us with the groovy moves. I truly believe there is no more sexual a dance. As my father would say “Yah BABY! HAHA”It was truly a magical evening and an amazing day in Spain. We are waking up tomorrow to explore Sevilla and Cordova. I truly could not be more excited.

2009-02-05T04:57:00.000-08:00

2009-02-05T04:44:00.000-08:00

Day 7: Ship.

2009-01-23T15:17:00.003-08:00

As I lay in my bed watching Shrek, I realize the true wisdom of modern day children’s films. Shrek is so witty! Donkey, what a riot! Today, was fairly mundane. I dragged Katherine to global studies, only to be read an encyclopedia paragraph about the Bahamas. Haha. My rhetoric class proved to be the highlight of my day. The teacher is a firecracker and is truly excited for the class. Forget the class, she is excited for life! The subject matter is a little fluffy for my taste but she is so darn enthusiastic! She discussed how much we are truly watched on board this ship. She discussed how there were some serious rules on this ship. The staff is really really efficient. They follow all the rules to a T is seems. She was talking about how a woman comes into her room every night just before the sun sets and how she turns on the light for her. When the teacher approached the woman and told her that it was not that big of a deal if she did it herself when she entered the room at night, the woman said she would lose her job if she did not turn the lights on everyday. Being the activist of the Vietnam years she went off on how the staff is continuously keeping tabs, searching for contraband hairdryers and stolen fruit from the cafeteria. It’s funny. None the less she seems to be an amazing teacher and I look forward to her class. The ship is becoming a bit prison like. There is no deck that completely goes around the ship so if you want to walk around you have to weave in corridors and then back out again. It’s all definitely set up in a specific manner so that you can be monitored from the crew areas. There really aren’t that many open outside spaces unfortunately. There is a lot of inside space though. Fortunately the weather has been beautiful and sitting on deck has been a good way not to go stir-crazy. Side note: it feels as though I’ve been on the ship for at least a month now. It’s very strange.

Day 6: Yah it’s pretty shippy

2009-01-23T15:17:00.001-08:00

So it seems that traveling by ship has become a lot like traveling by airplane. The noise of the engines is identical, you always seem to have that dirty feeling and there is limited walking space. Because of class we don’t really go outside all that much and it seems to bare that just out of the airport stuffiness. We attended our first classes today. It proved to be one of the slowest classes I have ever taken. It was more of a test in patience than an actual learning experience. We literally learned that the sun creates energy that is transferred through plants to create food for humans. Wait this college, right? This is a concept that I grasped quite some time ago but I suppose it was a nice little refresher. Between the simplicity of the lesson, the rocking of the ship and the early hour, many were soon catching up on the hour of sleep that we will be continuously losing for the next 5 days. I found that the next class would prove to catch my interest. The U.S. foreign policy professor is an elderly man that wears aviators inside and carries an air of passion in the way he speaks. He likes to emphasize words by yelling them, which definitely keeps you awake. He teaches constitutional law at UCLA and I think I will truly enjoy the class. After class we ate and then headed to my favorite afternoon hot spot, my bed. Afternoon naps have become a must, though I’m trying to kick the habit. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Hanging out, enjoying the seas, though I will admit the ocean-ness probably won’t be my favorite part. Surprising. It’s funny. I think they may put sedatives in the food because no matter what you always feel exhausted. I mean we really haven’t done all the much but everyone looks worn out all the time. Hopefully that will wear off and port will bring back everyone’s fire!

Day 5: Still on the ship

2009-01-23T15:16:00.001-08:00

So I have come to the fast realization that I DO, for sure, get sea sick and that the only reasonable cure is meds and naps. Today proved to be boring to say the least. It was orientation and we spent the entire day inside reviewing every aspect of what we are not to do as well as subsequent selling our souls to the Virginia Honor Code. It was lovely to discover that the two people that have fallen off the ship were recovered. Apparently one attempted to touch the Red Sea? And the other was jokingly pushed off by a girlfriend…doesn’t really sound like a joke to me...It has been a continuous marathon of meeting people. Pretty much continuous blind dates. Every conversation beginning with the question of our generation: A/S/L (age, sex, location). Well not necessarily the middle one as that is normally quite obvious. Today was also the inauguration, which the streamed to the televisions all over the ship. Unfortunately, I did not get to see it as the anti-nausea pills knocked me out pretty fast. In celebration of the inauguration, they served cake and champagne for the entire boat! Which for about 1,000 people is quite a feat. Classes begin tomorrow and I am actually excited to return to school. The professors seem interesting and there really isn’t that much else to do on the boat besides eating, hanging out by the pool or just lay around. We are also losing an hour each day for the next 5 days, yay…which is probably my biggest complaint as I have less time for my favorite activity, sleeping.

Day 4: Ship board

2009-01-23T15:11:00.000-08:00

Today was our last day in the majestic Bahamas. After loud restaurants and uncomfortable cat calls, I was fairly ready to say good bye to the commercialism of the Bahamas and hello to a ship full of eager students. Checking in to get on the ship was semi-painful as you stood in a line that seemed about a mile long with limited entertainment except for the chatty southern California girls behind us. The ship truly houses all kinds. After boarding, we attempted to unpack and found that the cabinet’s little nooks of storage were more than sufficient for our things. Katherine immediately started nesting placing her fondest memories upon her walls. I, on the other hand, displayed our trip schedule and waldo hat with pride upon my semi-sterile wall. In an attempt to catch the ship departing we headed up to an upper deck to catch some sea air only to end up on the smoker’s deck. People seem nice. Most are outgoing. There is a definite awkward boy to girl ratio, 1 boy to every 3 girls and as everyone stood in the sexual ghettos as we departed all I could think was the drama that was to come for some girls that had “specific” priorities for the trip. We had a fire drill and wandered the boat until dinner. Dinner was surprisingly delicious and we found a table with 2 gentlemen sitting alone. We sat down and introduced ourselves. They were not the chattiest of fellows but we were soon joined by a girl from Washington that always seemed to have a question to keep the conversation going. It’s funny how much like freshman year the ship is, I can’t even imagine how terrifying it must be for those traveling alone. The group is truly diverse. There are people from everywhere and the sheer accents could entertain me for days. There are a lot of people from Colorado, which is unexpected but they represent the largest population on the ship. Colorado, really? Who knew the land of snow cultivated so many world travelers?
Unfortunately, I am already turning an unsightly shade of green as I have not taken to the rocking of the sea as well as I had wished. But hopefully that will go away by tomorrow, if not I plan to turn to drugs. Lots of drugs. Apparently this is calm water, so we’ll see how things go over later.
I have also discovered that I am entirely too dependent on the internet and my cell phone as I am experiencing troubling withdrawals. I may seek treatment for this as well, possibly an board support group?
One last note. I have come to the final realization that this is pretty much a cruise. Much to my awkward reaction, the waiters collect your plates after you done with dinner, the stewards clean your rooms for you daily, and there is even room service! Room service! It’s quite ridiculous but don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining just surprised.

Day 2 & 3: Bahamas

2009-01-18T14:49:00.000-08:00

Well today proved to be another testament to no matter how beautiful a country I am in, I still have the magical ability to sleep past noon. But the remain portion of the day was spent exploring the Atlantis. There must be a hundred pools. Each with its own theme it seems. By far the most amazing is the water slide the shoots through a aquarium full of sharks and other such terrifying marine life. We laid poolside and enjoyed the beautiful weather and sipped on some extraordinarily strong mango slides made by an eager-to-please beachside bartender. The Atlantis is a true feat of modern tourism.

Day 1: Bahamas

2009-01-16T19:48:00.000-08:00

Day one has been a long one. After traveling all night with my trusty neck pillow supporting me every leg of the way we are here. And it truly is paradise. Upon arrival, it became apparently that my Uggs were no longer necessary. Its a beautiful 78 degrees and everything is so lush. After attempting to get our 100 lb bags from the baggage claim without appearing too helpless, we jumped aboard a rickety bus covered in bumper stickers and listened to the sweet sounds of Katy Perry's "I Kissed A Girl and I Liked It". Hmmm...interesting. The "aggressive" driving tactics of our driver surely would have killed my mother as he jollily swerved in between cars while talking to someone on his cell phone. It was quite entertaining to decipher his conversation between the "O, I know m'on"'s and the constant honking. The Bahamas are truly beautiful though. A perfect hybrid of Hawaii and Mexico with a touch of Africa. It literally looks just like a postcard. White sand beaches, teal water and happy upper class families as far as the eye can see. After arriving and exploring we checked out the Atlantis' casino. Of course I lost money. Something I have discovered: I can't gamble. Kat won $111 her first turn though so it was a fun trip. The hotel is amazing, ridiculious but amazing. If the Little Mermaid had a palace, it would be Atlantis. It is the Disneyland of hotels. There are indoor aquariums and tidepools, tons of pools, about a million tourists, and a million things for them to do. It is also HUGE. Ridiculiously large. We are planning on going to the club inside this evening to check it out and then more sun induced relaxation. We'll see how it goes as I am still sick and suffering from the some serious ear pressure problems even post-flight.