Karen's Semester at Sea

You know you've just completed Semester at Sea when...

2006-07-31T02:18:00.000-04:00

My mom found this list on the Spring '06 message board. The numbers of the statements that ring true for me are in bold, and comments of my own are in yellow.

1. You know people whom you have to ask "where are you" instead of "how are you." *Because so many SASers now have a serious case of the "travel bug.”
2. You get angry when people ask you what those tattered colored strings are on your wrist (and you think that the army should use that material for fatigues because it's the most durable material you've ever seen). *This is referring to the ribbon bracelets that were given out all over the place in Brazil-- I didn't wear one, but did get a keychain made out of them.
3. You still have to bite your tongue when you hear people talk about the countries we visited.
4. You light up at the words "ocean," "ship," "travel," "voyage," "world," and even "semester." *But also get a strangely sad, longing feeling in the pit of my stomach, and sometimes feel like I could cry.
5. If you find anything else with the acronym SAS (e.g. Scandinavian Airlines), it makes you angry. *This hasn't happened to me yet, but I know I'd be like, "That is NOT what SAS stands for!"
6. You have at least 1 album of SAS pics on Facebook/MySpace, or if you are really old school...Friendster. *Facebook for me. I've put up 2 albums, Vietnam and India, and will hopefully get around to the others eventually. It's a chore because I have such a hard time deciding which pictures to include.
7. You feel smug because you know people all over the country. *Maybe not smug...more like pleased.
8. You miss Taco Day. *I actually do! It's funny cause I've had a lot of great Mexican food since SAS, but it hasn't been nearly as satisfying as Taco Day was (or SAStifying, as we'd have said). Everything's relative.
9. You stare out your window and wish you were looking at the ocean instead of concrete. *I was going to use an ocean picture as my desktop background at work, but I couldn't do it...reminders are bittersweet and leave me with an unsettled sense of longing.
10. You are still tanner than your friends. *Uhh, fraid not. One of my greatest accomplishments on SAS was not getting sunburned ONCE! Except for a little on my back in Mauritius, but that doesn't need to count.
11. SAS reunions, no matter how small, are your source of happiness. *Mine have been too small to rely on as a source of happiness. I saw Erin, Lauren, Diane, and briefly Steve in NYC, and then I hung out with Dan once before he went back to Alabama. Once I return to Pitt (August 20!), I'll get to see Sue, Rob, and some other key SASers.
12. You try to wear your capoeira pants or longhis, but people just give you strange looks. *I actually did wear some pajama-type pants from India when my family went to the beach in Delaware; I asked my sister if they looked weird and she said yes.
13. "Where in the world is Myanmar?"....you realize that nobody really knows. *So true. If you add, "formerly known as Burma??" they say "Ohh, yeah..." but still don't really know. I consider myself so lucky that I not only know where Myanmar is, but have been there as well.
14. Your friends don't ask you about SAS anymore, but you still have so many stories to tell. *I never actually sat down with anyone and "told them about SAS." That would be way too overwhelming and impossible to do. The only way is to let the stories come out over time, but after awhile, I have a feeling that people just want you to shut up about it already.
15. You refuse to throw away those disgusting sneakers because they climbed the Great Wall, Taj Mahal, Angkor Wat, Table Mountain, etc. *I'm not against throwing them in the washing machine, though...
16. You still have the network drives for the public folder on your computer and you wish you could still use them. *There was a unique charm to "surfing" the public folder when bored (since the internet was too expensive to just idle about on). The photo folder was the best, obvi-- especially our "6 Days of Dock Time, Baby!" Varanasi pics.
17. Your SAS hoodie just isn't cool to anyone besides you. *This is so hard to believe! But I know it's true.
18. Sentences that begin with "When I was on SAS" make peoples eyes glaze over. *Yeah, so I try to switch it up by beginning with "On SAS..." or "When I was on the boat..." I'm aware that this is missing the point.
19. In the throngs of sex, you wonder “Now, what did Jeffery say to do here?” *All I'm gonna say for this one is that Jeffrey was quite a character...and a great public speaker!
20. You are looking for any and every reason to travel. *Oh my god, yes. Currently planning Southeast Asia, summer 2007.
21. You get upset when people complain about petty problems, so you help them "put things into perspective." *Or have to practically bite my tongue off to keep from doing so.
22. You feel yourself sounding obnoxious....but then you realize that it's kind of justified. *It's justified because of all that I've seen and done...but it's not fair to expect them to just take my word for it without experiencing it for themselves.
23. Everything you bought in India still smells like India. Actually, everything still smells like India. *Yep. It's an old, musty smell, but an exotic one! Not American-musty.
24. You still have a little bit of unpacking to do. *Um, or a lot of unpacking. I miss having older-sis Kristin around now that she lives with her fiancé, but I really don't know what I'd do without her empty room to use for storage.
25. That scrapbook you kept talking about never really materialized, but you keep telling yourself that it will. *I never kidded myself that I'd make a scrapbook (they end with crapbook for a reason), but I had thought about ordering a custom-made photobook online. I'm gonna have to face the fact that that'll probably never happen, but I SWEAR that someday I'll finish my SAS slideshow.
26. You are jealous of the Fall 2007 itinerary, but pissed that they aren’t going to Myanmar. *I'm actually so jealous of their itinerary that I can't even bring myself to look at it. If they're not going to Myanmar because ISE wants to avoid controversy, then I'm yet again truly disgusted and disappointed with those in charge of SAS.
27. You wonder what it would be like to do SAS again, but when you see other people on "our ship," you get jealous. *I don't like to think about either of these things. When I think about what it would be like to do SAS again, I end up frustrated because with all that I know now, I'm convinced I could do it soooo much "better" if I had another chance. Stupid 20/20 hindsight. Oh, and it IS "our ship." What, am I supposed to be out of the denial stage already?
28. Daylight Savings Time? Psssh....you lost 24 hours in 3 months. How can you complain about a lousy 1 hour? *Haha I'm seriously going to be a pain to be around when Daylight Savings comes.
29. There are those certain songs that just make you stop and think of SAS (Call on Me, Gasolina, etc.). *YES. I actually made a list of them all, and will make a "SAS CD" in the near future (which I will never listen to because it'll make me too reminiscent and sad). Ozone's "Noma Noma" song, Yellow Submarine, Gasolina, Madonna's Hung Up, Oh What a Night, 311's Speak Easy, Mr. Roboto, The Girl from Ipanema, What a Wonderful World, and Alanis Morissette's Thank You India are the top 10 that bring me RIGHT back.
30. Tom's voice (and even Karen's) still resounds in your head. *I had such a crush on Tom, just because of his voice! And the many priceless things that he said.
31. The image of Security Officer Chris dressed as a woman will forever be stuck in your head. *It made me temporarily forget that I'd just gotten six days of dock time...so yeah, twas a strong image!
32. Global Studies notes on the public folder.... *Even better, completed study guides that would circulate like wildfire the night before an exam-- thanks to photocopy technology, only one person out of 700 would actually have to go to class, pay attention, fill in the study guide, etc. Those things were worth their weight in gold!
33. You won't admit that you were relieved that everything in South Africa was in English. *Yeah, we struggled in Brazil, so despite claims of being ready for MORE adventure, MORE feeling foreign, South Africa was a welcome calm before the real storm hit.
34. Mauritius beats Cancun any day. *HELL yeah!
35. You bought something from the store right outside the ship in Vietnam. *Actually, no. There was no time to waste in Vietnam, and I wasn't about to spend it within the shipyard gates!
36. You have a hat from Vietnam and are tempted to wear it, but don't. *Someday I will, just have to wait for the right occasion! It'll come...
37. Who needs malls when you have the Scott Market, Ben Thanh Market, Spencer Plaza, Stanley Market, the waterfront mall in SA, Long St., Ocean Terminal mall in HK... *Agreed! Foreign takes on shopping are so much more interesting and engaging.
38. Senor Frog's. *First night in Puerto Rico, first night partying with all the SASers, first night I hung out with the people that would become my core group for the rest of the voyage.
39. You rode a motorbike in Vietnam. *Only every opportunity I got! Possibly one of the best experiences of my life was my first time on a motorbike, speeding through the wide, tree-lined streets of Ho Chi Minh City, wind in my hair and the stars overhead, my friends not far behind. Absolutely fantastic. There was so much to see as we sped by, including an outdoor school chorus concert in the public park. The performers were dressed so colorfully, the stage was all
lit up, and they were singing in Vietnamese...it was honestly like a dream.
40. You know where Mauritius is. *As my dad explains it, Mauritius is to Madagascar, what Madagascar is to Africa.
41. You think that the Cape Town sunrise is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen. *Not think-- know.
42. You agree that the SAS Mekong Delta trip should be renamed "Food of the Mekong Delta." *Thankfully I knew better than to waste my time and money on SAS trips at that point, but it wouldn't surprise me one bit.
43. You got lost in the mall in Hong Kong. *I wish. But not so much that I'd trade getting lost in the alleyways of Varanasi.
44. You consider getting through the Cu Chi tunnels a big accomplishment in your life. *Eh, not nearly as big as I'd hoped, unfortunately. It's really not that difficult unless you're claustrophobic, which I'm not. Even if you are, it's not that bad, because the tunnels were widened to allow access for fat tourists. I asked our guide if anyone had ever gotten stuck, and he said yes, once, and they had to use butter to get him out. He was joking about that last part.
45. You got a cheap but somewhat questionable massage somewhere along the way. *Yes! In Vietnam, the day that I went off alone. I'm not going to get into it. It was technically fine, a great massage, but there was just something weird about the whole place and experience...
46. You remember the Ambassador's Ball Dessert Buffet and you start drooling. *Nope, I was too busy dancing in the union, but I did see pictures later on and was very impressed.
47. You wish America would learn a thing or two from Japan. For example, heated toilet seats and flushing noises for "stage fright." *Actually, the toilets in Japan just scared me. They were either so high-tech that I was afraid I'd push the wrong button and catastrophe would ensue, or it was two footprints next to a hole in the ground, which I thought for sure I'd see for the last time in China. However, as for efficiency, public transportation, cleanliness, architecture, and food-- yes, America could learn a thing or 1,000 from Japan.
48. You still wish that the gangway was on Deck 2 instead of Deck 5 on the last day. *While I actually hadn't thought about it since I stepped off the last step, now that I think about it-- yes! The fifth-deck gangway was an accident waiting to happen even without armloads of paintings, hats, masks, and assorted bags in tow. And SAS claims they're soooo concerned about our safety... ;)
49. You are tempted to get some friends together and dress up as a rickshaw for Halloween. *No, but when it's getting late into Halloween night and I still don't have a costume, I'll probably end up in my robe from the Japanese ryokan, or maybe my rice hat.
50. You hope that the students who ran Students of Service will one day run this country. *Sure why not, even your average drunk SASer in Mauritius would likely make better choices than the current administration.
51. You flew on an at least one airplane that had some type of technical problem. *Yes, if that's the reason we sat in our seats for 2 hours before taking off from Delhi. Oh, and does it count that they didn't have boarding passes for us in Beijing?
52. You still crave one of Rico's smoothies. You get upset when people ask how your "cruise" was. *Yes, and especially yes. I can't help but feel insulted when people think it's the same thing as a cruise. It was a semester at sea-- the most valuable learning experience of my life-- not a vacation.
53. You traded at least one malarone for a drink ticket. *No, I only traded my drink tickets for cold hard cash. ;)
54. You know all the words to Living on a Prayer and have sung it on at least three continents. *See #29.
55. Your favorite TV show is the map channel. *Yes, and I'm not even kidding! I loved having it on, using it as a nightlight, and knowing exactly where we were in the world at all times. Since SAS, I've had almost no desire to watch TV... and if you think about it, after 3 months of the map channel, how could mundane, everyday television have the same appeal?
56. You made friends with purser's square employees because you bought so many phonecards and internet minutes. *And because I had a lot of questions, and I kept accidentally breaking my ID in half, and I had to sign in and out for dock time, and at 3 in the morning I'd still be up and about the ship...
57. Tara hated you because you bought so many phonecards and internet minutes. *But then I bought her icecream on Crew Appreciation Day and all was well.
58. You skipped class every other day to get smoothies on the seventh deck. *Yes, except it was more like every day, and to sleep. I tried though, I really did...but I still maintain that on SAS, it's better to do your sleeping on the ship than when in port.
59. You used a high-wave-day as an excuse to not work out. *No, my excuse was that the sign-up list was always full. And that I hate working out. Hah I only worked out ONCE the entire 100 days, and I think I did gain a few pounds like everyone else, but I've already shed it naturally so no harm done.
60. The bulk of your computer's hard drive consists of SAS pics and videos. *It's all on an external drive, because my computer can only store a pathetic 37 GB. I spent the first few weeks of summer sorting, naming, and organizing all of my digital memories...let me just say that Google's Picasa program is a godsend. Eventually, I will be posting albums from each country in my blog.

WORLD NEWS that has piqued my interest post-SAS

2006-06-22T17:35:00.000-04:00

Since returning home from my spring voyage, SAS has never been far from my mind. At first it was specific thoughts about Semester at Sea that were constantly at the forefront of my brain, but now it's more general thoughts about the world and travel that seem to occupy the majority of my consciousness (and often, my dreams as well). I'm seriously kind of obsessed-- I daydream about things like, "What will I bring when I backpack through southeast Asia?" I've already spent several lunch hours poring through the travel section at Borders, and when I was confronted with the word cementitious earlier today at work, my first thought was, "rhymes with Mauritius!!" I guess you could say I have the 'travel bug'-- but how could I not.

Consequently, I've developed a newfound interest in travel writing and world news. I now spend much more internet and newspaper time reading about topics such as these than, say, celebrity gossip or advice columns (although there's still a time and a place for everything). Below are links to a few articles I've come across, which I found myself relating to Semester at Sea for one reason or another. They're all good reads, so I thought I'd post them here for others to enjoy and ponder.

Treading Lightly on the Road to Mandalay (New York Times, 5/7/06)
"...As Southeast Asia modernizes rapidly — Starbucks appears to be colonizing Thailand — Myanmar, as Burma is now called, remains the last country in the region preserved in amber. In Myanmar, men still wear saronglike lungis rather than pants, and traditional rituals like the novice ceremony, rather than new-model Mercedes, still hold up traffic. Western influences are almost nowhere to be found...."

Maybe it's only because I had no reason to notice before, but I feel like ever since I've gotten home, the media has all of a sudden started paying attention to Myanmar. This article delves into the question of whether or not it's an ethical tourist destination (considering that it's home to "one of the world's harshest military regimes"), and also provides an overall feel for Burmese culture. I got really excited while reading this article, because it mentions so many things that I was recently priveleged enough to see and experience: the Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, thanaka paste, tea shops, Buddhist nuns with shaven heads, chanting monks, lungis, reclining Buddhas in Bago, checkpoints where the police and soldiers constantly ask for bribes, and so on. It's neat to read a completely foreign, unpronounceable name in the paper-- Daw Aung San Suu Kyi-- and already know exactly who she is and why she is so important. I'm coming to realize that the benefits of travel extend far beyond the length of one's stay in a country. Five days is plenty of time to develop a strong, lasting consciousness of a place and its issues.

Here's one more: Burmese Delusions (Washington Post, 5/29/06) An op-ed piece on the political situation in Myanmar, Aung San Suu Kyi's house arrest, and the abysmal lack of action taken by the U.N. in response.

SAfrica's Zuma's Apology Not Enough: UN AIDS Envoy (Reuters, 5/10/06)
"An apology by South Africa's former deputy president for having unprotected sex with an HIV-positive woman will not make up for the harm done to efforts to fight AIDS there..."

I first learned of this incident in my Health Psych class on the ship, during a group presentation on HIV/AIDS [Actually, it was my group's presentation, but I had no idea what any of the others were going to be talking about]. When the presenting group member brought this up in her speech, it caught me off guard, and actually made me pay close attention for a minute or so. To drive home the extent of the AIDS crisis in Africa, she told us that even the president of South Africa was uninformed about safe sex-- evidence being that after an accusation of sleeping with an HIV-positive woman (sans condom), his statement of defense was that he took a shower afterwards to protect himself from contracting the virus. Upon hearing this, I was shocked, but I thought that surely there was more to the story-- some kind of partial explanation, at the very least. However, now that I've come across the article myself, I'm afraid that there really is nothing more to the incident. The president of South Africa, the country with the world's highest infection rate, actually thought that showering was an effective means of protection against HIV/AIDS. And that's on top of the fact that it was likely a case of rape. Seriously, just read the article; it's short and extremely eye-opening.

Behavior Guide Aims at Demise of "The Ugly American" (Reuters, 5/10/06)
"Alarmed by the relentless rise of anti-Americanism around the world, a business-backed group is trying to change the behavior that spawned an enduring stereotype of Americans abroad -- loud, arrogant, ill-dressed, ill-mannered and lacking respect for other cultures...A proposal to the State Department to issue the guide along with every new or renewed U.S. passport is still under review..."

At first I thought this article was a joke, but it's not, and why should it be! I feel like it's probably an insurmountable task to get Americans to stop acting like Americans in other countries, but bless these peoples' optimistic hearts for trying. During Semester at Sea there was a LOT of the stereotypical "ugly American" behavior going on in countries, but I have a feeling that the majority of it was done by the same core group of SASers, who made up the minority overall. Still, five obnoxious idiots are likely more noticeable and memorable to foreigners than even 100 respectful, conscientious travelers would be. Of course, in some cases, it is unavoidable that college kids will get out of control when having fun. I'll never forget the circus-like scene that took place in the lobby of Trader's Hotel our last night in Myanmar...at least 60 SASers were congregating there before heading out to the bars, and of course everyone was inebriated and hyper and happy, resulting in much chaos and hilarity, not to mention noise. Yeah, we probably made poor examples of ourselves as Americans, but at least our intentions were innocent-- celebrate life; revel in glee. And I'm sure that we provided some interesting entertainment for the Burmese hotel staff.

Wok the Dog: What's Wrong with Eating Man's Best Friend? (Slate.com, 1/16/02)
"...The biggest team sporting event on earth, soccer's World Cup, is coming to South Korea, where hot dogs and doggy bags are all too literal. Those of us who don't take our poodles with noodles will have to think about why, or whether, it's wrong to eat man's best friend...Everybody wants to show that he's civilized by condemning the eating of dogs; there's only one problem: Nobody can explain why it's wrong. In fact, on closer examination, the arguments against dog-eating turn out to be creepier than dog-eating itself...."

I am not trying to promote dog-eating, but this article makes some very good points. I relate it to SAS because I gave some thought to the issue as we approached certain Asian countries, and I actually decided that if I was confronted with the chance to eat dog meat, I'd go ahead and try it. I am a semi-vegetarian and do not eat animals besides birds and fish, but I decided that in other countries, I'd try any food once for the sake of cultural exploration. If I were to refuse dog-fried rice or whatever because of an American taboo, it would defeat the point of travel (at least for me). Besides, in terms of eating animals, I see no moral difference between chowing down on a hamburger versus a literal hot-dog. I used to volunteer at a sanctuary for farm animals, and I know for a fact that cows have at least as much personality and "depth" as dogs-- ditto for pigs, goats, and the rest. If it weren't for nutritional needs, I'd refrain from eating birds as well...it's hard to forget a rooster who'd follow you everywhere, or a chicken that would doze off contentedly on your lap.

Dispatches from the Front Lines of Travel: Trying Really Hard to Like India (Slate.com, 9/27/04)
"...The last time I went to India I just haaaaaaated it. Delhi was a reddish haze of 105-degree dust. And while, of course, the Taj Mahal was great...the streets outside it were a miasma of defecating children. I could not wait to go home...Now—mostly because my girlfriend wants to come back—I'm back. I'm giving this dreadful place a second chance. And this time I vow I will try really hard to like India..."

This is a 5-part travel piece by Seth Stevenson, one of my favorite writers on Slate.com. His writing is funny, honest, and intelligent-- always a good read. Although we differ in the fact that I didn't have to try too hard to like India, I completely agree with almost all of Stevenson's observations and descriptions of the place. He sums up the Indian travel experience quite well, even incorporating a helpful veggie-related analogy:

"It's the spinach of travel destinations—you may not always (or ever) enjoy it, but it's probably good for you. In the final reckoning, am I glad that I came here? Oh, absolutely. It's been humbling. It's been edifying. It's been, on several occasions, quite wondrous. It's even been fun, when it hasn't been miserable."

Stevenson really hits the nail on the head there-- India is an incredible place because, not in spite of, its many "problems" (and even problems). I don't think I'd ever go there and stay at a beach resort like S.S. did, but then again, who knows-- when I'm an adult, I may not have enough energy to revel in chaos and confusion for extended periods of time. This is why I've been hesitant to fully recommend India as a travel destination for adults, because it really did strike me as a place that's ideally visited with that "youthful" way of approaching the world (and I'm aware that I'm digging my own grave here, considering that I'll eventually have to answer to adults who read this!). Anyway though, Stevenson came up with a pretty good system for enjoying India, and I think I'd reccomend his approach to most people who wish to travel there, regardless of age. I wouldn't trade my hellish Indian mini-bus experience for the world, but there's a very limited number of people whom I'd actually suggest go that route...and they happen to be my enemies. ;)

My Goal is to Go Around the World in 90 Days on the Cheap (New York Times, 5/17/06)
"The Frugal Traveler sets out to hopscotch the globe using low-cost carriers, buses, trains, ferries and serendipity. Follow his journey here every Wednesday until the deed is done. First stop: Lisbon."

This is the kind of travel that appeals to me, because I love the idea of such freedom and spontaneity, and I'm also dirt poor. However, this segment takes place in Europe, and I've come to the realization that I'm surprisingly uninterested in that area of the world right now. I used to equate Europe with culture, travel and sophistication, totally in awe of the accents and the quaintness and the quirky slang...not to mention the rugby players. I'd still like to someday live in the UK (I think), but at least for the time being, I am 100% captivated by everywhere else in the world. I can't even see Europe as foreign anymore, because that word has taken on an entirely new meaning for me. I'd been planning on doing the whole backpacking-through-Europe thing after graduating from college, but I've changed my mind, and convinced my best friend Erin to change hers as well. The new plan is to spend 2 months backpacking through Southeast Asia; my dream itinerary would include Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Tibet, Laos, and Myanmar. Summer 2007.

Irate HK Man Unlikely Web Hero (CNN, 6/9/06)
"Roger Chan, otherwise known as 'Bus Uncle,' burrowed his way into the city's psyche a month ago after he ranted for six minutes at a passenger who tapped him on the shoulder asking him to talk more quietly on his phone. 'I face pressure. You face pressure. Why do you provoke me?' Chan yelled at 23-year-old Elvis Ho that April night."

This is a very strange/funny story, and from what I learned about Hong Kong, it fits perfectly with the reputation of the place. Sadly, I can't say that I know this firsthand, since I was denied my one day in HK...however, come to think of it, I do picture Bus Uncle as a kind of businessman version of my crazy cab drivers in mainland China. I sensed that they "face the pressure," too.

48 Killed in India Truck Accident (CNN, 6/13/06)
"Police in a remote northern Indian village have retrieved 48 bodies after a truck crowded with wedding guests veered off a mountain road and plunged into a deep gorge...Road accidents claim thousands of lives every year in India, and most are blamed on reckless driving, aging vehicles and poor roads."

This is so sad. Not at all surprising, though-- India really does have the most horrendous driving conditions you can imagine. Still, for an entire extended family to die on the way to such a happy event...it's almost unbearably tragic. And notice how the accident happened? Basically the same way that those five SAS girls died in India several years ago.

Brazil Airline Cancels most U.S. Flights till June 28 (CNN, 6/21/06)
"Struggling to pay for fuel and with part of its fleet grounded, Brazil's troubled airline Varig said Wednesday it canceled most flights to the United States and some to Europe..."

This is the airline that we used in Brazil-- and accompanying the article is a picture of the Varig ticket counter at the Rio de Janeiro airport, where I can proudly say that I once stood! Seems like forever ago...

School? Future?

2006-05-26T02:42:00.000-04:00

Last night it occurred to me that perhaps my SAS grades would be posted on my.pitt.edu, since they do count as normal Pitt classes and whatnot. Lo and behold, there they were, and I am quite happy with the outcome considering the amount of effort that I put in.

Global Studies- B+
Health Psych- B+
Modern Britain- A-
Travel Writing- B

This adds up to a 3.3 semester GPA, and a 3.8 cumulative. If there was ever a semester to let my grades slip a bit, this was definitely it. I can't help but kick myself just a little though, because the difference between an A and a B in Global was perhaps three exam questions, and I'd have gotten a solid A in Psych if I'd done my oral report rather than, uh, not doing it. I am extremely happy with my grade in Modern Britain, and almost a bit shocked by it, since I turned everything in late and had horrible attendance. As for Travel Writing, it may seem odd that I did worst in it (considering all of the voluntary travel writing that I obviously do), but the grade is completely fair. I turned in some really crappy papers, two of which were months late, and I also missed several classes, despite my best efforts. I still got a lot out of the course, though-- Naomi was such an inspiring teacher and person, and she provided me with a real-life model of the kind of adult that I'd like to be (but had always wondered whether truly existed).

I can't wait to go back to Pitt this fall, mostly because my living situation is so ideal. I'm living with SAS-Lauren and other-friend-Lauren in the front portion of a three-story duplex right off-campus in South Oakland, and some other SAS friends (Rob; Sue) will be just a few blocks away. Our house is in the historical district and has a lot of character, and naturally I'm already thinking about how we can decorate it. It will be SO nice to finally have my own room in my own place, with no "adult" figure to answer to except for the landlord. I cannot stress enough my readiness (and need) to be in control of my own life-- I really don't think I'd be able to handle ANOTHER semester of dorm security guards, RA's, roommate contracts, and all that other juvenile bs. Semester at Sea was actually a big step backwards in terms of personal autonomy (at least when on the ship), which just makes me all the more impatient to get a move on with my life. Of course, once I turn 21 in September, I'll be more than okay with time slowing way down again.

Guest Blogger: Erin Gregory

2006-05-25T10:30:00.000-04:00

"Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed, this world you must've crossed...you said..."
--Augustana Boston

It’s May 22, 2006 and SAS ended a little less than a month ago. I can’t really comprehend that it’s over, even three weeks after the fact. Right now I am sitting in a dorm room in New York City. This is not how I planned to spend my summer, but Semester at Sea gave me the confidence to do things I would otherwise not do due to fear. Semester at Sea gave me so much confidence, knowledge of the world, love, and the most amazing friends I could ever imagine. It brings tears to my eyes thinking that they are no longer a hallway away, but scattered throughout the United States. I met Karen because her roommate Lauren was the first person I met on Semester at Sea. Karen and Lauren were already friends from college, but I instantly bonded with them. They taught me so much about life…I’ve never told them this, but I really look up to both of them like I would older sisters.

Semester at Sea gave us the opportunity to experience the world, but the thing that is often left out of this description is the people you experience the world with. I saw amazing places and went on a journey unlike any other I will ever experience. I will remember every single place I saw throughout those 100 days, and I will remember every single person who stood by my side as I looked out across the world.

Ever since I walked down the gangway that last time, I haven’t been able to put my thoughts into words. People ask what the trip was like and my answer is always “Absolutely amazing,” but I always feel like this answer does no justice to the experiences I had over those 100 days. How can two words sum up all of the tears, diarrhea, laughter, naan, poverty, saris, beauty, pagodas, Mandalay rum, scooters, sunsets, rice hats, friends, hookups, noodle bars, rhinos, inappropriateness, waves, sunrises, 4am train rides, sake, skylines and growth that we encountered on this journey? Only we know, and please understand that there is just no way you can understand.

I am a different girl then the one that cried as she pulled away from the Bahamas and the world she knew. When I woke up on April 28th, I felt a sense of peace that I have never felt. I looked out over San Diego and finally felt happy. Semester at Sea led me on a journey in which I really found myself. Although I saw so much poverty and devastation, I know that the world I live in is a beautiful and amazing place filled with compassionate and loving people. I have so much faith in everything now. I know that life is precious and that things do not always happen the way we want. But in the end, things are always perfect. That is something I can count on.

My name is Erin Gregory, and I am from the San Francisco Bay Area. I go to Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. Right now I am doing summer school at NYU.

Pictures...and Appreciation

2006-05-11T01:05:00.000-04:00

Below are four Guest Blog entries written by some of my favorite SASers. They appear in the order that I received them...obviously, I wasn't the only procrastinator on the ship. :) Along with the entries, I posted a few pics of the writers:

Sue: the first was taken during our 2nd-to-last pub night, when we were supposed to wear things from the countries (hence Sue's hat). The other pic is from the very last pub night; we're holding a model ship that someone gave us in the elevator.
Rex: riding camels in China; hanging out in the Qingdao shipyard before our docktime
Lauren: tubing in Mauritius; beginning the long trek through the Myanmar shipyard (to get a cab into Yangon)
Diana: relaxing on the beach in Mauritius; heading out for a late-night 7-11 run in Kyoto

Thank you guys so much for doing this for me...and that goes out to Steve as well, despite the fact that his piece was basically un-postable (as I mentioned earlier).

While I'm at it, I must extend some blog-related thanks to at least a few other people:

First and foremost, to Tom Lewis the Blog Father, aka Azsasdad: You have provided such an invaluable service to the S’06 message board, and consequently, we bloggers have benefited as well. I never dreamed that so many people would read my blog, and although I’ll admit that it was a bit strange at first, sharing my SAS experience with such a large audience has turned out to be an unexpectedly gratifying (and interesting!) aspect of the voyage. I loved getting feedback on my writing, was deeply touched by the kind and caring words left for me in comments and emails (including your own comment on my 4/22 entry), and found it so exciting to be able to put a few names to faces at the dock in San Diego. Mine was one of the more controversial blogs because of the whole Varanasi issue, but even that 25-comment “incident” turned out to be a positive thing—I found it both interesting and beneficial to hear the wide range of people’s opinions on the matter. Basically, Tom, I feel that your efforts on the message board helped to form a supportive community of readers around my blog, something which proved to be extremely rewarding for me. Thank you so very much. I didn’t get a chance to meet you in San Diego because my sea was second-to-last off the ship, but my mom took a few pictures with you in your shirt—and now, because of your role as Blog Father, you appear in the SAS Slideshow of a random girl from Maryland. :)
Moving on. To all friends, family, SAS alumni, SAS parents, future SASers, and random others that read my blog (and especially those who commented—I lived for that!)…thank you for caring. I know that some of my entries were too long, some were boring, and sometimes I was probably too much of a complainer. But you kept reading nonetheless, because you cared, and when I think about it, that’s kind of touching. I don’t know if I’d have enough time or interest to keep up with someone else’s blog (especially a stranger’s), so for those who did with mine, please know that it means a lot to me.
To John from the S73, F74 voyages: My mom did give me the globe paper-holder from you. Thanks so much, both for the thought, and because I needed one of those! I’m glad that you decided to return to the dock on your way back home, and what perfect timing it turned out to be. I am proud to join your ranks as a SAS alumnus!
Lastly, to my parents—and I don’t even know where to begin. As overused as the phrase has become, you gave me the world. You trusted me enough to send me out into it, accepting the fact that this would likely bring 100 days of worry for yourselves. From thousands of miles away, you stood by me through thick and thin. We didn’t see each other for over three months (and I realize that we didn’t communicate as often as you would have liked), but you should know that not a day went by that I wasn’t surrounded by your love, your enthusiasm, and your morals—even when perhaps I'd rather not have been! No matter where we are in relation to each other, your influence holds steady, and the impact of the love that I know you have for me is tangible. It is so comforting to realize that in the most important of ways, you are with me even when we’re apart. This is one of several invaluable realizations that I came to on Semester at Sea—and for each, I therefore have you to thank. To quote a hand-made banner hung from the ship railing in San Diego, “The rest was astonishing, but there’s no place like home.” That’s because it all comes down to people--and you are my home.

Guest Blogger: Sue Strailey

2006-05-09T00:49:00.000-04:00

Hi this is Sue. I am from Harrisburg, PA and I go to the University of Pittsburgh. The first time I met Karen on the ship was a pub night and I went back to her room with Lauren and found her laying in bed watching “War of the Worlds” on TV which by the way was one of the WORST movies in the world. Anyway I looked at Lauren as we were walking out and asked “Does your roommate drink?” Ha, little did I know she was going to become one of my favorite drinking buddies on the ship. From then on we had good time after good time. One of the more memorable times was in Myanmar and us three Diane and Diana got a hotel room. We went and got 2 bottles of $.50 rum and 12 cokes and had a little pre-game party after a wonderful day of shopping for $1 items at the market. As you can imagine the bottles were gone in no time and we ended up getting another one and going to the bar. Now it is the second to last day on the ship and I am sitting in her room while she is getting ready for pub night. We are getting ready to drink our four beverages and some conditioner…..uh..nevermind. Anyway, it has been a long, crazy, incredible journey and I am sad to leave, but luckily Karen and Lauren both go to Pitt and are living up the street from me. I have already claimed a bed in their house and am looking forward to the fall even more!! I love you babe!!

Guest Blogger: Rex Buchanan

2006-05-09T00:38:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow we embark in San Diego and the voyage is over. In the past 100 days I have experienced so much I hardly know where to begin. I have seen so many different cultures and ways of life that I can never look upon my own society in the same way. Similarly, I have traveled so far on my inner journey through the trials and tribulations of ship life that I can never look upon my own life in the same way either. Some call this experience the “voyage of discovery," and corny as it sounds, I can see where they are coming from. My primary forms of expression during this journey have been photography and writing, and through these two facets I have discovered a great deal about my social world, my true self, and my vast, diverse world. There was once a time when I was actually cynical about my experience. Can you believe that? There was once a time when I felt that my voyage did not live up to my expectations and that I had made it out unchanged. I once thought that I had not made enough friends, that I had not grown, that I had not found love, that I was more lost than ever. To be honest, this time was only a few minutes ago. I had planned on writing to you from this perspective, and I even belted out a few lines before my conscious kicked me in the ass and made me delete everything. It would simply be untrue to portray my experience in this way, though there are still moments of despair mixed in with my overall feeling of contentment, and I suppose this was where I was coming from just moments ago. But no. I will be truthful with you instead.

When I first came aboard the MS Explorer back in January my heart was ablaze with renewed energy. I had just spent an epic week with my parents in paradise and I was flying high on their love. I ran around the ship talking to everyone, assuming that everyone liked me and that I was making so many great friends. This feeling even lasted through the first port – Puerto Rico – and then one day it just sort of wore off. Suddenly I didn’t feel so invincible anymore. Suddenly I looked around and didn’t feel safe amongst 700 strangers, and I doubted whether I made any friends at all. It was as if I was surfing a great tidal wave and I abruptly crashed into the rocks on the shore. At this point there was nothing else to do but crawl inland and gather the strength to walk on my own two legs for the rest of my journey. I have learned that this is not an easy task. When you are brought up around people who love you unconditionally it is hard to accept a world where people are jaded and friends are not easily acquired. Most people are content with a sea of acquaintances, one or two close friends, and a safety net for their emotions. I was equipped with none of these weapons and so I felt like I was fighting an unfair battle for a time. It hurt. Then my heart and mind slowly found equilibrium again. Perhaps my skin grew thicker from living out in the snow. I learned to self sooth; I found peace in literature; I became my own best friend and took ownership of my world, and things became easier. I learned to reveal my heart in poetry not prose and to rely on no one but myself. The Buddhists say that all life is suffering and that suffering comes from attachment and desire. Through my tribulations I have come to accept these words and sever my attachments to people. Somewhere along the line I found peace of mind. I even started a club, the Enlightenment Seekers, in an attempt to bring fellow soul seekers to me and hear their wisdom. This idea unfolded into a smashing success in the end. I am still eons from enlightenment, but at least now I can function inside my own skull.

So what about my experiences outside of the boat, you might ask. They were phenomenal as well. I didn’t come close to death, and I didn’t see anything completely unbelievable, but I encountered countless forms of beauty, passion, pain, hope, and love. I came back to what I always had, and it felt anew again. I saw elephants, cherry blossoms, and smiling children. I helped people in need, consoled survivors, brought smiles to sad faces, captured forms of transcendence on film. This world is diverse, its struggles are tragic, its beauty is endless. The best that we can hope to do is to live and let live, to enjoy being an insignificant part of a magnificent event called life. These are the thoughts that fill my head on the last night of Semester at Sea.

My name is Samuel Rex Buchanan
I go to the University of Colorado at Boulder
My major is Philosophy and Advertising
I traveled with Karen in China

Guest Blogger: Lauren Anderson

2006-05-09T00:24:00.000-04:00

Well it’s April 28th, the last day of SAS, and I refuse to believe that it’s over. This has by far been the fastest 100 days in my entire life. I can’t believe that in a couple hours we are going to be standing up on the 7th deck waving to our parents on the dock below because it seems like only yesterday that we were waving goodbye to them from the same exact place but in the Bahamas. Ah! I literally can’t grasp that it’s over! Someone slap me and wake me up! In a way I’m both sad and happy about it. Sad to say bye to my friends that I’ll probably never see again, to those that I will see at Pitt in the fall, and to say bye to a ship that I’ve grown to call home. I’m happy though because I feel like I’ve certainly done enough traveling now to last me a long… long… time and I’m ready to get back into the routine of normal life in the US. I’m definitely going to miss Karen, my roommate, even though she has been my roommate for the past 3 years at Pitt and will continue to be next year, she and I are just so great together as roommates and it’s a shame that we have to live several hours from each other at home. We do things and talk about things that I could never do or talk about with any of my other friends, and I’m so glad to have such a great best friend as her!! We definitely made the right move in deciding to be roommates on this trip because we rarely had problems despite such close living quarters and if anything I think the trip has made us closer because when we go back home and then back to school, we’ll have each other to share our memories of this fabulous trip with!

Well it’s 7am and we’re going to be pulling into the dock soon (EEK!) so I’m gonna go sleep and then go say hi to the parents! I certainly think this blog is much nicer than the one’s written by Sue and Steve (if Karen even posts those!) I LOVE YOU AND I’LL MISS YOU KAREN!!!!!

~Lauren~

Guest Blogger: Diana Vu

2006-05-09T00:06:00.000-04:00

In my mind, home hasn’t changed since I’ve been away—and I like it that way. There’s a great sense of security in knowing exactly what to expect. Reflecting on these past 100 days, there are definitely things that I am going to miss about floating on the ocean; like the four star amenities of living on a cruise ship, waking up every couple of days and finding myself in a different country, how creative our minds become when it comes to alcohol, tanning all day, and my ever-so-reliable noon wake up call. However, in the same respect I cannot wait to get away from the disaster they refer to here as food, closed-minded, rich, spoiled SASers, the RD’s on power trips, the SAS administration, and the endless effing rules they impose on us.

Right now, looking in on San Diego, I cannot wait to get off the ship. But after a couple of days at home I know that I will wish I was back on it, because there’s nothing more exciting than traveling and escaping the monotony of everyday life to be immersed in a plethora of different cultures—not knowing what to expect. I want to live a very contradictory lifestyle, one of security and risk. I don’t want to finish this because it sucks and I want to go home…Sorry Karen, I tried…

[Written after breakfast on the morning of 4/28]

Life After SAS: Day 5

2006-05-03T01:39:00.000-04:00

Here's what I've been doing for the past several hours: organizing my pictures into what will eventually be a SAS slideshow, listening to my “SAS playlist” on iTunes, and talking to SASers on AIM. Actually, I'll be honest, this is pretty much all I’ve been doing since Sunday (but at least I haven’t watched any TV). I am currently wearing a shirt from Vietnam, earrings from China, and still no new nail polish since the Bahamas. Just like on the ship, I’ve been sleeping hardly at all and at absurd hours, although there’s no reason for me to be doing this anymore.

I don’t know what, if anything, is going on with me. Obviously I’m not “back to normal” yet, but I wouldn’t say that the transition has been jarring or dramatic or overly difficult so far. If anything, it’s been kind of anticlimactic. I miss my friends and the boat and the world…and yet they seem so far away, almost like a dream. At times, it’s hard to believe that my existence at home and the existence that I had over the past 3 months both belong to the same person. Here I am, back in Olney, back to hanging out at Starbucks because there’s nothing to do-- and it’s very strange to think that not long ago, I was sleeping on the floor of a bus station in Japan. Paying off Chinese peasants in order to climb unrestored parts of the Great Wall. Hell, even just lazing around with my friends on the ship…who I now realize were so much more to me than simply “SAS friends.” But what if that ends up being the extent of their role in my life?? I miss them so much, and yet, it’s a strange sense of loss; they don’t “belong” to my life at home, and therefore it’s just a nagging at the back of my mind…the knowledge that out there in the world, there’s a set of people who had such meaning in my life.

I dunno…I guess I’m in limbo right now. I’m home, and it’s pleasant, and I haven’t experienced any real “culture shock” like everyone said I would. If anything, it’s “culture boredom” that I’m going through…but who am I kidding, that was the case even before I went on SAS. One thing that does surprise me is my sudden craving for the erasure of my life from “before.” Perhaps ‘erasure’ is too strong a word, but it’s more than just a need for change. On Sunday, I deleted over half of my “friends” on Facebook, and then I moved on to AIM and got rid of most of my buddy list. I now have about 35 Facebook friends at Pitt, and if I hadn’t gotten distracted near the end of the task, it would be even less. By Facebook standards, I’m now a huge loser, but whatev…I’m a ‘quality over quantity’ person at heart, always have been, and always will be. There’s no point in hiding it. I don’t get close to people very easily, but when I do, it’s the real deal. I formed real bonds on SAS, ones which make it hard to believe that we only had 100 days to do so. Now that I’m home, I have no desire to hang out with anyone but my very best friends. The thought of devoting time and energy to lackluster, meaningless relationships just seems like a chore now. I have a sudden, clear yearning for the saturation of every aspect of my life with complete truth and worth. After three months of constant stimulation, enlightenment, and discovery, I never want to live halfheartedly or with ambivalence again.

I’ve gone and gotten way off topic—but anyone who reads this regularly has probably come to expect that by now. Haha I meant to write about the last two weeks at sea, guess that’ll be for another entry! Just FYI, I’ll be continuing this blog for as long as I have things left to say about SAS. This will be a lot over the next few weeks, but eventually I anticipate just a random post here and there. Definitely stay tuned for my South Africa, India, Myanmar, Vietnam, China, Japan, and Last-Two-Weeks synopses, though! Oh, and the Guest Blog entries are coming soon as well; turned out to be the worst idea ever (you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get a paragraph out of a SASer), but I managed to procure 4 or 5 that are suitable to post. Yes, that means that some weren’t…although I have to give Steve props for writing the funniest, most offensive, most politically incorrect SAS summary that anyone could ever think of.

For any future SASers, I’ll someday get around to making a list called “Semester at Sea: Things I Wish I’d Known.” It will become the SAS-bible for generations of on-deck voyagers (ha, pun intended). Fall 2006, though—don’t hold your breath. I haven’t even written about South Africa yet.

I'm Home...

2006-04-29T23:58:00.000-04:00

...and thank goodness a picture's worth a thousand words, because right now I'm way too tired to write anything substantial!

Friday, April 28 - Saturday, April 29:
Completion of my trip around the world

Friday morning, 8 a.m., docked in San Diego-- so good to see my mom!

2:15 pm and I'm down the gangway for my last time ever.

I got to meet John from the S73, F74 voyages!

Saturday, 8 pm EST-- About to touch down in D.C.

At the airport-- Dad and little-sis Lauren were there to welcome me back.

My luggage...and this is minus the 60 pounds that I shipped home in San Diego!

"USA is A-OK." I'd have to agree-- there is NO place like home.

Now it's time for me to go make up for the past 100 days' lack of sleep!!!

Travel Writing: "India"

2006-04-26T00:17:00.000-04:00

Here's a peek into my India experience. It's by no means a day-by-day description (which I intend on getting around to eventually), but I think it'll provide an idea of what my time there was like. Mom, as you're reading, don't freak out-- I survived, okay??!

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India was incredible. I hate to employ such an overused descriptor, but in this case, it’s the only appropriate word of summation. When I think back over the five days that I spent in Chennai, Delhi, Varanasi, and Agra, what stands out most is how captivatingly inconceivable everything was. There were so many moments, more than in all the rest of the countries combined, which left me in disbelief that I was actually seeing, doing, hearing, and smelling the things that I was. At times, I almost thought I was in a dream, because India is that otherworldly.

I will never forget my first night there. After flying into Delhi and taking cabs to the train station, we found out at 9 pm that all trains were booked—which is apparently to be expected during Holi. This is how I found myself, along with my seven fellow travelers, in a hired minibus setting off on a 20-hour road trip to Varanasi. Big mistake, or the best choice I’ve made on SAS? The more time that I have to reflect, the more certain I am of the latter. However, a few hours into the drive, I was losing confidence fast. We were far outside Delhi, in the middle of rural India, and in standstill traffic. Worst of all, our bus was surrounded by Indian people peering in the windows-- watching, laughing, tapping, attempting to sell us things. We closed all of the thin curtains, but could feel their presence right outside. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Thank god we’d brought along a few bottles of liquor and were feeling pretty good at that point, because otherwise I might have suffered a nervous breakdown.

By hour seven, my buzz had worn off and I was certain that we’d made a huge, possibly fatal mistake. The traffic had finally dispersed, but that meant that we were moving, and fast. I tried not to look out the window because it was rather terrifying, but even so, I was on edge just from all that I could hear and feel. The honking was maniacal and continuous and came from every direction. We were surrounded by huge tractor trailers, open-back trucks with debris flying out, and the occasional animal-drawn cart—donkey, perhaps? It was the middle of the night, and bicycles were swerving in and out of the traffic. Let me tell you, there’s something strangely creepy about bike-riding at night (it’s along the same line as flying kites at night…but I didn’t see any Indians doing that, thank god). I also found it very bizarre that there was so much traffic, at nighttime, in an otherwise deserted area. Where were they all going?! Every so often, I made the mistake of looking out the window, and I’d see a huge truck headed straight for us-- headlights glaring, horn blasting. It never failed to veer out of the way at the last possible moment, but not without giving me a near-heart attack.

You see, as far as I could tell, there are no driving rules in India—at least not in rural India. The road was made of dirt, and the concept of “lanes” was applied only when convenient. We were surrounded by flat, empty wasteland, with the occasional lonely shack or small, bleak building by the side of the road. There were no street lamps, no traffic lights, and no rest stops (I’ll get to our pee breaks in a minute). To top it all off, it was raining, so we actually got to experience a mud road rather than dirt. I’m sad to report that my American Eagle suede flip-flops didn’t last even a day in India; after about 3 bathroom breaks, they were covered in mud and completely ruined. We must have stopped at least 6 or 7 times that night, thanks to Maya and her weak bladder. I went with her each time, because it was a pretty sinister world out there. We stopped at the most random places, ranging from the side of the road to unidentified buildings with bathrooms. At one point, I was the only one who had to pee, so our driver pulled up to a small, dark building and motioned toward the entrance. Tony came with me, and we were really weirded out to find a man asleep on a cot in the front room. He woke up briefly, looked at us, and went back to sleep. I peed as fast as possible and got the hell out of that random guy’s house.

So yeah, it was raining, and there was the traffic, and the peering Indians, and the honking, and the liquor was long gone. Then, we noticed that our driver was smoking a joint. This made me truly afraid for my life, although no one else seemed overly concerned. I instinctively equate driving high with driving drunk, but the others assured me that they’re not the same, and that this was actually a good thing for our driver to be doing-- if we wanted him to stay awake, that is. There wasn’t much I could do but hope for the best; I mean, I wasn’t about to have him pull over and let me out. I prayed that if I died in India, it would at least be once we got to Varanasi, so my soul could be liberated from the cycle of existence and immediately attain Nirvana.

It’s probably not surprising that I barely slept a wink that night. The government travel agent in Delhi had told us, “Smooth ride, whole way! All on highway!” We believed him, not able to imagine how far that could possibly be from the truth. As it turned out, the road was so bumpy and so treacherous that I got bruises just from bouncing around. I was stretched out on the “bed” in the back, and at times my entire body lifted two inches in the air. I don’t see how the bus wasn’t falling apart. To make matters worse, we were constantly coming to abrupt halts in order to avoid collisions; each time this happened, I had to cling to the person next to me or else roll off onto the floor. All I could do was lay there, close my eyes, hold on for dear life, and concentrate on blocking out everything around me. It was a very long night of prolonged physical and mental stress.

As the sky turned from black to grey, I was still awake, although the traffic had settled down and I’d grown accustomed to the situation. I looked out the window and thought to myself, “I am in rural India, at dawn, in a bus, on my way to Varanasi.” I couldn’t believe that it had been less than 24 hours since we’d docked in Chennai. The other vehicles seemed ghostly in the early-morning light, and I could make out figures by the side of the road, many just squatting and staring. I was looking out at the middle of nowhere, and it was far lonelier than any other ‘nowhere’ I’d been. In such early hours of the morning, the poverty was somber and hushed, and the people that I saw seemed to be doing nothing but existing. Carts and vehicles rolled along almost automatically. Everything seemed remarkably calm and still and silent, and I got the feeling that I was witnessing a private, sacred scene. For the first time, I felt inexplicably at peace with India, and I knew that this was to be a permanent feeling. I’d survived the night, earning the realization that I could withstand what India threw my way. We still had 10 hours left on the bus, but I stopped being afraid and accepted that whatever was going to happen, would happen.

The sun came up and we unhappily discovered that there were two holes in the floor through which mud had splashed everywhere. This might have been a disaster 12 hours earlier, but it was now just a detail taken in stride. We’d already learned that India is not a clean country, and that in order to really see it, it’s impossible to remain a clean person. It’s interesting, because during my time there, I was beyond dirty, I barely slept, I peed in the most uncomfortable of locations, at times I had no idea what was going on (none of us did), and my purse got all muddy so I had to replace it with a ragged plastic bag. The thing is though, I didn’t mind, and I even preferred it that way. My goal is always to experience a country for what it is, so it was appropriate to deal with some chaos and discomfort.

In India, I experienced my most stressed, most afraid, most frustrated, most exhausted, and most shocked moments on Semester at Sea. I was also more awed, thankful, incredulous, satisfied, and at peace than I’ve been in any other country. It really is a land of contrasts-- such an astounding, dynamic place; one which almost seems to live and breath its own set of rules. I need to go back, and I will. In India, five days is just enough time to realize that you’ve barely scratched the surface.

Travel Writing final paper

2006-04-22T02:37:00.000-04:00

The assignment was to describe what it's like to return home.

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What a foreign feeling, that of familiarity. As I step off the plane in our nation’s capitol, it crosses my mind that my Semester at Sea experience is really, truly over—now that I’m back on the east coast, the final phase is complete. This doesn’t depress me, nor does it excite me; at this point, I don’t know how I feel. For the past three months, my life has been something that is now over and done with, and what remains is an emptiness that will have to gradually refill. But with what? Nothing that could possibly compare, is my fear. As I walk through the airport terminal, I try to conjure up images of my travels—of the narrow alleys in Varanasi, or the beach at sunset in Rio, or the lantern-lit cherry blossom trees in Kyoto. I can’t do it, though; the pictures in my mind are lifeless and fleeting, and I’m too distracted by the rush of noisy, preoccupied, hurried people. Why is it so uncomfortably obvious to me that everyone is white? That so many are talking on their cell phones? That nobody is making eye contact with me? I feel removed and different, more disconnected than I have in months. In each of the SAS ports, I was constantly observing people, and I’m surprised to find that this hasn’t ceased in the U.S.—except before it was with fascination and interest, and now it’s with dull recognition of what had previously escaped my attention.

My mom laughs as I head toward the exit without stopping at the baggage claim. What can I say; on my last six flights, I traveled with nothing but a carry-on. It’s funny how jarring it is to contradict my own personal “SAS autopilot,” which I’ve spent so much time developing and perfecting. It’s strange to be able to rely on someone other than myself to sort out the details of lost luggage, determine whether the car is parked in the east or west lot, and keep track of the ticket for the automatic parking garage gate. I’m more than happy not to deal with such mundane annoyances, and yet I have a nagging fear that this is only the beginning of a backward slide. Could lack of practice have the power to erase all that I’ve learned and become?

On the way home from the airport, my mom waves apologetically after being forced to cut someone off. I laugh to myself, thinking of the packed streets in Vietnam where the driving motto seemed to be “Anything goes.” Won’t my friends be surprised that tailgaters and aggressive drivers no longer elicit my curses, or even my notice—that’s what happens after having spent forty hours on a small bus in India.

When we pull up to the house, I can’t believe that I’m right back where I started. It seems like so long ago that I left for the Bahamas, and yet time has never flown by so fast. I find it striking how little everything has changed. Although it’s true that the cats are a bit fatter, my little sister is now eighteen, and my older sister has purchased her wedding dress, I still know who they are and why. These are things that very few people have ever truly known about me, and now I’m further complicated by an entirely new layer of experiences.

Since the place that I call home is no longer a ship, some readjustment is necessary. How strange it is to have constant access to appetizing food, a laundry machine, and the internet! Almost as unfathomable as the fact that some of my closest friends are now spread out all over the United States. My parents exchange worried glances as they notice me stockpiling apples and cereal boxes in my room, wearing the same sweatshirt five days in a row, and reading webpages only after I’ve minimized them and logged off the internet. What can I say; old habits die hard. In the evening when I return home from work, it comes as a surprise that my bed isn’t made and my dirty towels are still on the bathroom floor where I left them. Only once every two weeks, when the cleaning lady comes, do things temporarily return to SAS standards of normal. Even then, though, nobody knows how to make a bed, find a lost passport, or brighten my day like Kenton does.

In daily life, I get the feeling that I come across as odd at times. When I ask a man on the street for the location of the nearest ATM, he seems increasingly uncomfortable as I act out the motions of inserting my card, typing in my PIN, and retrieving the cash. “Yeah, an ATM…I’m not deaf,” he responds. At the mall, I offer to pay ten dollars for a $100 dress, and the salesgirl calls security when I refuse to go higher than twenty. She shouldn’t have given up on me so quickly; I was actually willing to pay fifty.

As I did on SAS, I have a small, tight-knit group of friends at home. However, I don’t get to spend as much time with them now—every night that we go to a bar, I get kicked out as soon as I proceed to order a drink. Attempting to solve this problem, I went to the liquor store for a bottle of wine, and almost got arrested upon trying to pay. Another rift that’s developed between me and my friends is that they get disgusted every time I initiate a conversation about T.D. I don’t see what the big deal is; it’s a natural part of everyday life! Furthermore, they fail to respond when I greet them with “Ni hao,” and they accuse me of making up words when I talk about glocalization. It’s a lonely existence when you’re the only person with an opinion on tourism in Myanmar, the 2008 Olympics in Beijing, and contemporary Vietnamese attitudes toward the U.S.

I’ll admit that it was a relief to say goodbye to the MV Explorer floating dictatorship and hello again to my independence and autonomy. Yet I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’ve simply moved from a small prison to a larger one. American media and pop culture distract me from more important pursuits, ultimately wasting my time, just as DeWalt and Mark Mason did on SAS. Not once during the voyage did I miss television, movies, radio, magazines, or celebrity gossip, but now I’m succumbing to these useless vices solely because they’re so readily available.

As I “partake in the available,” I reabsorb all that had been replaced during SAS. But now there are parts of me that cannot peacefully coexist, and life at home seems stagnant and wasteful. Never before had I considered how much time I sit in front of a screen each day, or how many hours I’ve spent cooped up in my room. In my mind, I begin breaking down my life, working out estimations of how much time I’ll have devoted to certain tasks when I die. Believe it or not, at this rate, I’ll spend approximately 400 days in the shower and forty years sleeping! What an unnecessary, unfortunate waste. And to think that I didn’t shower once in China…or Japan. Very unlike me, I know, but priorities change when you’re living each day to its fullest.

I’ve always hated clichés such as that. “Live each day like it’s your last,” “Make every moment count,” and so on and so forth—who’s actually been able to do such a thing? Such a Hallmark-card ideal had always seemed unattainable, but it hits me that without even trying, I’ve lived up to the task in each port of call. There’s something about diving into new experiences, pushing your limits, and expanding your boundaries that gives life a clear, beautiful reason for existing. I want to live with gusto. I want to travel around the globe, not to find myself but to create myself. In the words of Anais Nin, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” There’s no predicting where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing a year from now (or ten), but I can say with certainty that Semester at Sea was only the beginning.

Ambassador's Ball visuals

2006-04-21T03:30:00.000-04:00

Here's a picture of my friends and I at the Ambassador's Ball dinner last night-- from the left is Diane, Lauren, Diana, myself, and Erin. We partied hard, and I danced so much that I had to change into flip-flops.

There was a slide show presentation an hour before dinner, put together by the ship photographer. Imagine my surprise when one of the first pictures shown was a close-up of my parents down on the dock in Nassau. They were sitting on a ledge, my mom with her head in her hands and my dad looking out into the distance, I'm assuming at the departing MV Explorer. Their sense of loss is palpable from their body language and facial expressions, and it's a very sad, touching picture. It made everyone in the union go, "Awww." I teared up immediately, and ever since I've been truly homesick for my first prolonged period of time on SAS. I remember so well what it felt like to say goodbye to my parents, and I can't wait to experience the opposite in a little less than a week!

Nothing interesting has happened since this morning.

2006-04-16T23:00:00.000-04:00

I’d like to point out that I’ve finally changed my profile picture to one that actually looks like me, thanks to a lesson from Erin on file compression. My previous pic really annoyed me because I had brown hair for only a few months, and having returned to blond two days before SAS, I didn’t have time to take a new picture. I don’t think of myself as a brunette, so I’d always see my blog photo out of the corner of my eye and be like, who’s that? My new pic was taken a few weeks ago at the Arabian Sea Social, and in the un-cropped version, Dan is immediately to my right, making a weird face. If it looks like there’s something different about me, that’s because of all the newfound wisdom and worldliness that I’m exuding. Yeah; that, and the fact that I have eyebrows now—remember how I got them tinted?! Oh, and just for the record, blonds really do have more fun, even despite people’s expectations of stupidity. ;)

In case it’s not obvious from the fact that I just wrote an enthusiastic paragraph about my hair (which I’m sure Aunt Linda enjoyed almost as much as she does my shopping anecdotes!), I am in the midst of some serious procrastination. I’m afraid that these last two weeks at sea are going to be unbearably boring, because today certainly was. Wave Day turned out to be rather dull, and consisted of me sleeping an unnecessary amount, wandering around the ship, folding some clothes, having lazy conversations, and other mindless tasks. Lauren and I went to dinner at 1800, and once again, I wanted to cry when I saw the selection of food. It’s strange, because I was so happy with the food up until about a month ago, at which point I suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. I can’t figure out if it’s actually gotten worse since then (which really seems to be the case), or if I’ve simply grown over-accustomed to it. Who knows; even the PB&J is no longer appetizing, and I rarely bother to even check out the dessert anymore…chances are it’s something goopy and/or gelatinous, like rice pudding or chunky jello mould. What happened to the days of chocolate mousse, icecream, and fruit cobbler?! Tonight for dinner I had green beans, cucumber slices, a few rolls, two cups of coffee, and maybe 1/5 of a bowl of grapes (the rest were mushy). So unsatisfying. I know how selfish and stupid it is for me to complain after having witnessed malnutrition and starvation firsthand, but it’s almost impossible to get that message through to a growling stomach. My point here is simply that the food sucks, NOT that I’m unlucky or deserve better or anything like that. It’s also justification for the higher-than-normal snack bar charges which will soon be appearing on the credit card statement…just fyi, mom and dad. ;)

I really should be getting a head start on the 6 or 7 papers, 2 presentations, quiz, and 2 exams that are in store for me over the next 10 days. For Travel Writing, I have to choose an object from Japan that metaphorically sums up my time spent there. This is pretty easy; I just don’t want to do it. Things were so expensive in Japan that the only shopping I did was at dollar stores ( “100 Yen Shops”), which actually had a lot of fun, high-quality stuff to be found at them. I’m such a sucker for Japanese animation—both the cutesy Hello Kitty style, as well as anime—so a bunch of my purchases are basically objects with pictures on them. For instance, a pencil case. And some mini Tupperware. A lipstick case, even though I don’t wear the stuff. I’d always considered myself a good shopper before SAS, but now I’ve realized, I buy a lot of really dumb things! Oh well, apologies in advance to everyone that I bought gifts for.

I’m trying to get my friends to write some Guest Blog entries for this thing, but they’re even lazier than I am. I wanted one of Steve’s Creative Writing pieces, but apparently they exceed the PG rating that I assigned to my webjournal way back when. Haha, must be creative indeed. I really want some outside input though, because I think it would make my blog’s overall “SAS summary” function that much more multifaceted. When I read through this at the age of 70, I want to be able to read a little piece of each of them! I have my sights set on Lauren, Diane, Diana, Steve, Erin, Rob, Dan, and Sue…so I’ll keep pestering, and hopefully they’ll eventually give in, just to get me to shut up.

Speaking of which…it’s about time that I end this stream-of-consciousness entry. You’d think I’d spend this time writing about what I did in Japan, but no; that’s for a later occasion, probably when I have some truly dire procrastination to take care of. With the prospect of no more countries to look forward to (besides the U.S.) and two long weeks of stagnation and restlessness ahead, we’re basically just waiting for the end, and that invokes a really strange mix of feelings. The mood on the ship seems a bit “off,” maybe because none of us ever really expected the trip to come to an end. I mean, of course we knew that it would, but throughout the months of preparation and the months at sea, I never really thought about being back at home, with SAS behind me. I’m ready to return home, because I feel that my Semester at Sea is complete, but it’s not. We’re currently in a unique “SAS limbo,” and the prevailing question is, what now? I think the obvious solution is for us to be let off the ship in Hawaii-- one last hurrah to look forward to would lift many spirits!

Wave Day on SAS!!!

2006-04-16T08:15:00.000-04:00

It’s a snow day at sea! But because of big waves, not snow! Perhaps I’m back in favor with the SAS gods, because today is a B day (i.e., 3 classes before noon for me), and The Voice announced about 20 minutes ago that all morning classes are cancelled. Not only that, but I had an hour-long Health Psych group presentation at 0800 which I was not at all looking forward to. I can’t wait to go back to bed and sleep all day, woken only by the sound of the bedside drawers slamming open and closed. You get used to it after awhile. I love being rocked to sleep by the waves; it makes the whole falling-asleep process much less boring.

I’m excited for the noon report when the wave height will be announced!! The other day they measured in at 16 feet, and it wasn’t nearly as rocky then as it is now. I actually had to hold onto the railings for dear life as I made my way up to breakfast this morning. Then, I had to make a little fortress out of the salt and pepper shakers and the sugar holder in order to keep my orange juice from falling over. We SASers have climbed Table Mountain, we’ve climbed the Great Wall, and now our true skills will be put to the test as we attempt to make it through Easter Sunday without falling on our faces. The Voice recommended that people avoid leaving their cabins, which basically provides me with a day of sleep and movie-watching, guilt free! Thankfully, Lauren and I got into one of our rare cleaning frenzies last night, so now that enormous task is over and done with. I stayed up until 4 in the morning talking to Dan in the piano lounge, and then I prepared my portion of the psych presentation and slept for 2 hours. So I definitely need to be heading back to bed very shortly.

I’ll write about Japan before too long…same goes for South Africa, India, Myanmar, Vietnam, and China. Haha my SAS blog is missing some integral parts. That’s okay though; I’ve formed my own little niche as the SAS blog that talks about everything other than travels. But let me just say that Japan was great, and I packed about as much into 3 days as I possibly could have. That’s right; we weren’t granted clemency for our last day of dock time. SAS let me down big time, and not even for the reasons that I'd have expected. I’ll be doing my own little "expose" on that whole situation before too long, because I think it’s important for people to be aware of some of the questionable behind-the-scenes stuff that goes on here. I want to be sure to have all of the facts straight before I say anything, though.

Alright, I’m going to go attempt the treacherous stumble back to my room. I hope everyone enjoys their Easters as we SASers enjoy our Wave Day.

Not to complain, but...

2006-04-10T22:55:00.000-04:00

I just got back from my post-China Sheldon Family Dinner. It was good; I had cucumbers, grapes, some rolls, and two cups of coffee. Every so often, coinciding with the biggest waves, you’d hear a scream followed by a crash. The view outside the windows alternated rhythmically between sky and sea, up and down. I mostly talked to Sam Sheldon, and was able to get some travel advice for Japan. He said that Hiroshima is definitely worth devoting one of my three days to, and he also recommended attending a baseball game. We’ll see about the latter; organized spectator sports aren’t really my thing, but I’d consider it if it’s not too expensive.

When Sam asked why I was only planning for three days, I told him that I’m part of the Varanasi Posse (not in those words), and he replied that he’s very jealous of me—he’d always wanted to go there, and was the leader of one of the SAS trips that was supposed to, but he couldn’t exactly break off from his trip when V. was removed from the itinerary. He then said that he didn’t think the Dean ever expressly forbid travel to Varanasi—that it seemed more like a strong recommendation against going. All I have to say now is, HA!!!! This is the Global Studies professor, people—is any more proof really needed that my recollection of the warning was/is valid?? Sam also said that at least some good came out of the whole situation, namely that from now on the Dean will take great care to be 100% clear. And he certainly has been ever since then; the point about Cambodia was made quite clearly thanks to twice-daily announcements stating explicitly what would happen to us if we traveled outside of Vietnam independently. That's all fine and well, I mean I’m happy that the SAS administration learned something from all of this, but what would be nice is if it weren’t at the expense of me and my fellow travelers. It would also be nice if just once they admitted to us that perhaps there were aspects of the situation that could have been handled better on their part. But no, they were 100% clear, it was 100% our fault, and SAS is being 100% generous to us little brats by not kicking us off the ship altogether. Yep. Awesome.

So…speaking of the whole Varanasi issue…the drama continues! And I feel obliged to update, as much as it pains me (this topic just refuses to die). Here’s the deal: Yesterday I got a call from one of my professors, “N.” [I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I used her name (she has nothing to hide and would be the first to say so), but I haven’t asked permission, and I don’t want to drag her into this any more than necessary.] N and I had talked about the whole Varanasi issue back when it was at the forefront of the SAS rumor mill, and she’d been very supportive of me and the others, as well as totally on our side. The reason why she called was to let me know that if my Varanasi group wanted to write a letter to Dean Sapp asking for clemency in regards to our last day of dock time in Japan, she would be happy to write a letter of support for us, signed by a number of faculty members. I talked to the rest of the Varanasi-goers, and we obviously decided to give it a try—anything for a chance at an extra day in Japan (and the last port day of SAS). So this afternoon, we wrote our letter, and N went about collecting signatures for hers. She got about 7 or 8, and had been expecting more, but apparently several who had previously pledged their support are worth nothing when it comes down to actually putting their names in print. N also talked to the Dean, and from what I’ve come to understand, he is not an unfriendly or unreasonable man. Unfortunately, there are others in positions of power who must have been picked on in high school or something, because they’re out for blood. The bottom line is, right now, we just don’t know. But with the support of a significant number of faculty members, possibly not complete close-mindedness from the Dean, and a damn good letter submitted by us SASers, we may have a chance. The letter argues that we’ve learned our lesson, adhered to the rules of our dock time, and that our time would now be better spent doing on-ship community service rather than sitting around on the boat in Japan. Perhaps most importantly, none of us have ever acted in a way that would misrepresent Semester at Sea, which cannot be said for the ridiculous number of raving drunkards that stormed the gangway in Vietnam. Aaaand got 2-4 hours of dock time as punishment. Haha as a side note that I just can’t resist, Lauren’s abnormal psychology class got to watch a video of the aforementioned madness…she described it as a mass of people, many in conical rice hats, just going crazy-- staggering around, frantically chugging beers, peeing off the side of the dock, cheering, being chased around by Florentina, falling up the gangway, trying to duck under the arms of the security guard, etc. I think it’s so funny that they watched that in her abnormal psychology class. God, I wish I’d been out on deck with my camera that night!

I’m afraid that I have one more story to report which continues with the theme of how not-great so many people are on this ship. I am truly sorry to be so negative, but I don’t make these things up. As I stated way back when, the purpose of this blog is not to worship SAS and go on and on about how much it’s changed my life (although I’m not saying that it hasn’t, or won’t). Right now, I don’t know exactly how I feel about Semester at Sea…I certainly feel that it has let me down, and it’s not what I thought it would be. Would I recommend it to prospective SASers? I honestly don’t know anymore. But I’m not concerned with figuring that out right now; I do have three weeks left, after all. I know for sure that I am glad I am here, and that I’m already wiser than I was 3 months ago. For the time being, that leaves me plenty satisfied.

I’ll get on with my story though. As many of you know, Lauren and I were part of the SAS “Peking University” trip in China. Well that’s actually not quite accurate; it turns out that group travel is the most tedious thing EVER, so we spent the majority of the time independently, along with our friend Rex who was also on the trip. We were basically with the group on the plane rides, the bus rides to/from the airport, and for a few of the meals with the university students. Anyhow, after our 4 days in Beijing, the group arrived back at the ship in Qingdao at about 2130 on Thursday night. Lauren, Rex and I had dock time beginning at 2300, and we’d been hoping to see a bit of the city beforehand; however, several SAS trips had arrived at the same time, and the line to get back on the ship was at least 45 minutes long. We decided that instead of getting in line, we’d just hold onto our luggage, grab a taxi, and drive around until 2230 or so, at which point the line would be much shorter. So this is what we did, and just let me say, that for China to call Qingdao its “Switzerland of the East” is pretty much the biggest stretch ever. I told you, China is crazy!! But anyway, the three of us were in line at the gangway no later than 2240, and we happened to be behind The Voice and his fiancée, whom we chatted with for a bit. After they went up, it was our turn to have our names checked off the list by the two Chinese immigration officials. However, our names were not on the list—odd, since we’re most certainly SASers. To make a long story short, the problem took forever to resolve, and we weren’t allowed on the boat until about 2310. It turned out that the immigration officials had only the list of independent travelers, but we were on the Peking University list—and since we’d split off (which is completely allowed), we weren’t there when that list was. As a result of the hold-up, we were unable to sign in for dock time until 2315—15 minutes late.

You’d think that this would be no big deal, since obviously it wasn’t our fault, and SAS should be aware of the circumstances, right? Nope, WRONG. At the end of the 5:00 announcements yesterday (and ironically, about 5 minutes after I got off the phone with N), The Voice calls “Karen Ochsenreiter, Lauren Anderson, and Rex Buchanan” to the Assistant Dean’s Office, “immediately.” Lauren and I groaned and headed up; at this point it’s pretty much just what now. So Mark Mason (the head of student life) is waiting for us in The Voice’s office, and he starts questioning us about the night before, asking for exact times and whereabouts and etcetera. We tell him what happened (I feel like he should have already known—don’t they keep records??), and for some reason this seems to arouse his suspicions even more. We turn to The Voice and ask him if he remembers being next to us in line, and he completely vouches for us, but still—Mark Mason was picked on in high school. J/K, J/K; he pretty much just says okay, and that he’s “only the messenger,” although I now know (from inside sources) that he’s not NEARLY as innocent and easygoing as he pretends to be. He goes on to say that the issue would be discussed by the higher-ups, and that by that night, we’d be informed of their decision on how to deal with us. Yes, “deal with us,” or something along those lines—meaning that despite our entirely truthful, logical explanation, we’re still guilty until proven innocent in the eyes of these SASholes.

Oh but that’s not all! We have STILL not been informed of their “decision” concerning us troublemakers. They were supposed to tell us last night; it has now been more than 30 hours. I’m not saying that I’m surprised by this—after all, we were informed of nothing in a timely manner re Varanasi—but I’d like to emphasize just how nerve-wracking it is to sit around all day wondering if your three days in Japan will be reduced to two. It also makes itinerary planning a tad more complicated, as you can imagine.

I am so stressed out right now! I hate hating SAS, and I’m wondering how the hell I keep ending up in these predicaments. Searching for a bright side though, I’m so heartened by the efforts of N (and N’s spouse), as well as the support of all the professors that signed on our behalf. There’s a faction of people on this ship, students and staff alike, for whom I have such admiration and consider myself so lucky to have met. I think that Semester at Sea attracts some of the very best people out there, and even though they make up a smaller percentage of the total than I’d hoped for, it’s still enough to have made my trip undoubtedly worthwhile. One of the professors hit the comic nail on the head in referring to SAS as “Burma Lite,” but it’s made bearable thanks to the likes of N (who’s the kind of adult that I hope to be one day), and my group of friends, who are simply the best, funniest, realest people ever. If SAS were about nothing but travel, friends, and inspiration, then I’d have no reason to complain, because I feel so fulfilled in all of those areas. :)

Just a quick one for now...

2006-04-10T17:25:00.000-04:00

The Voice just announced that there will be no internet access starting at midnight tonight, lasting all the way through the 26th after Japan. Oh wait, here comes another announcement— “Passengers are not allowed to be outside on decks 7 forward, 5 (except for the smoker’s deck), and 4 aft. This is a safety precaution.” Hmm, well that’s not such a big deal, not nearly as annoying as an entire day of dock time with NO INTERNET. Tomorrow is going to suck. My to-do list, which had receded for awhile, now exceeds all prior lengths. It’s hard to concentrate with this constant rocking, almost as hard as it is to walk. The waves are 16 feet today, and the ocean looks very blustery and kind of scary. It’s so strange to have to put on my [brand-new knock-off Dolce and Gabanna] coat and [Payless] slippers just to go up to the 7th deck snack bar. Even stranger to go out there with a craving for frozen yogurt, yet end up opting for a hot chocolate instead.

Sue and Erin just arrived to meet me for dinner. I'll finish up later!

Ni Hao!

2006-04-09T02:05:00.000-04:00

Holy cow, China was crazy. It was completely different from what I’d expected, more so than any other country. In many ways, it seemed less “American” than even India and Myanmar. Most people didn’t speak a word of English, which hasn’t been the case in other countries—usually, people could understand at least the most basic words and phrases, or knew someone who could. And um, to put it bluntly, Chinese culture is just so WEIRD!! (I of course say this with utmost respect for all of the differences that make the world an interesting place). I can’t even really explain how it was there; it’s kind of like they try to imitate American culture, but in totally random, funny ways that don’t seem to make much sense. I can’t tell you how many times we’d read a sign or have an interaction or see something in a store, and just look at each other and be like, HUH?!?! Of course, it works both ways—I’m proud to report that I provided laughs to probably hundreds of Chinese people during my four days there. For some reason, they found me really funny, and even more so when I opened my mouth. It’s so much fun to be laughed at all day long, though—it makes ME feel like the weird foreign one, and I like the concept of that. But I definitely now have the right to laugh at any tourist in the U.S., free of guilt! And you know that whole travel philosophy (which I used to hold) that totally eschews resembling a tourist? I say, screw it—where’s the fun in blending in?? The stark juxtaposition of two cultures is so interesting, and perhaps surprisingly, it’s a great way to meet people. For example, after an entire gift shop of Chinese people laughed at me because of my appalled reaction to a “chocolate” icecream bar, it was with a mutual sense of “shared-joke” comradeship that I proceeded to buy another, different-flavored icecream bar from the women behind the counter.

Of course, Lauren and I had a different experience from most other SASers in that the people seemed to think we were celebrities or something. The day that we spent in Beijing, we took literally dozens of pictures with Chinese tourists, which are now probably framed and hanging over their mantelpieces. What would happen is that two people would approach us and ask for a picture, and then by the time we’d finish taking it, there’d be a huge semicircle of people around us, watching and pointing and snapping photos and waiting their turns. It was insane! They’d get so excited; the women would giddily link arms with us, and everyone would throw up the peace sign for their shot. At the Great Wall, a group of teenage schoolgirls approached and asked for a picture with me, Lauren, and Rex, and when we said yes, they screamed and laughed and jumped up and down. Then, when we wanted one taken with our cameras too, they screamed and jumped all over again.

I asked a Peking University student what the deal was, and she said that they just don’t see foreigners very often, and that we’re also “very beautiful.” By this, I think she’s referring to our blond hair and blue eyes, which are obviously not seen too often in Asian countries. I especially was admired, since I’ve got the whole “pale” look going on. By Asian standards of beauty, the paler the better; who’d have thought that L’oreal, Clinique, Neutrogena, and all the rest have entire lines of skin-whitening products?? Seriously though, what am I doing living in tan-obsessed America-- I need to move to southeast Asia where I’m appreciated!

One of my favorite mini-interactions occurred at the Temple of Heaven…I was walking past a group of schoolgirls, and they saw me and went, “HI!” And then, “You so beautiful!!!” I said hello and thank you, and then as I walked away, they yelled “You so cool!!” Haha that doesn’t happen every day in the U.S. I hope this doesn’t count as my 15 minutes of fame, though!

Another interesting fact (well okay, opinion) about China is that the food SUCKS. Chinese Chinese food ranges from mediocre to just plain sick. Some of it is unidentifiable, and lots looks like it’s been regurgitated. At the beginning of SAS, I resolved to never eat at American food chains in the countries, but that went right out the window in China. Let me just say that McDonald’s has never tasted so good, even despite the fact that my breakfast sandwich was on a hamburger bun and covered in mayo. The only Chinese food that I enjoyed were some little plastic bags of nuts and seeds that I bought from an old woman at the bottom of the Great Wall. And I think there was still dirt on them.

Some more bad news about China is that Beijing is probably my least favorite city, ever. Here are some words that describe it: Ugly. Drab. Gray. Depressing. I’d even say Fugly. It’s modern, but with zero creativity or charm—just a bunch of billboards, big buildings (lots of hotels and apartment buildings), and wide busy roads thrown together. Everything from the ground to the buildings to the sky is GRAY, occasionally broken up by some off-white here and there. A haze hangs over the city, blocking out clear sky and much of the sunlight, and it seemed fitting that our first truly rainy day on SAS occurred there. The only nice parts of Beijing are the tourist attractions scattered throughout, but it’s impossible to ignore everything outside of these little pockets. And in my opinion, the tourist sights are not all that interesting. I was done with Tiananmen Square after about 20 minutes, and temples all start to look the same after awhile. Don’t get me wrong, though—I had an extremely memorable day in Beijing. In my opinion, the best travel experiences have nothing to do with monuments or museums or tours, but with simply getting out there and submitting oneself to the personality of a place.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll write up China day-by-day. I may be too busy watching movies though. Lauren and I are thinking about skipping all of our classes these next two days before Japan, and just laying in bed watching our new DVDs all day. It’s a wonderful thought, but unfortunately, I need to start working on the attendance and participation parts of my grades…better late than never, I hope??

Vietnam-to-China Ship Report

2006-04-03T04:05:00.000-04:00

It’s 3 in the morning, we arrive in Hong Kong in about 5 hours (I think), and there’s maybe six people still awake on the ship. I’m in a pretty good mood right now, because I am completely caught up on my schoolwork, which hasn’t been the case for at least a month. I feel so free!! Tomorrow’s going to be such a relaxing dock time, because all I have to do is update my blog. Even my room is clean—I took care of that tonight during the pre-port meeting. No, I am not a horrible person; I DID go to the meeting, but then all they were talking about was Hong Kong and Qindao, neither of which I’ll be spending any time in. It was really depressing to hear about Hong Kong, which I’d been super-excited about seeing, so I went back to my room and occupied myself with some serious cleaning / organization. It took forever because my side of the room was literally covered with clothes, powerpoint print-outs, random books, shoes, souvenirs, and $1 DVDs from Vietnam. Lauren and Kenton were beginning to hate me, and so was I. Now everything’s under control though, at least until I unload post-China.

There’s not all that much to say about these past three days at sea. I was extremely stressed out due to my complete lack of work-study skills and my out-of-control procrastination habit. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I am just totally incapable of doing the whole school-on-a-ship thing. I stayed up until 0530 studying for an 0800 Health Psych exam the other day, and then I completely slept through it…turned off my alarm in my sleep, I assume. Luckily, he allowed me to make it up today after Global Studies, and I think I did fine. I have no idea what my grades will be, but with some luck, I could technically still get straight A’s…how funny would that be?! I am so jealous of the people who don’t have to worry about grades, just credits transferring…must be nice.

So the Ambassador’s Ball is coming up, and we’re all getting pretty excited! (well, at least us girls). I need to buy a hot, inexpensive dress in China. I was thinking about getting one made in Vietnam, but with only three days there, I didn’t want to have to deal with that. Not that I want to waste time clothes shopping in China, but that’s my only option, since Japan is going to be pricey. I have a dress from home that little-sis Lauren wore to homecoming in the fall, but it’s not really my style (as cute as it is), so I want to find something else to wear. Preferably a dress that’ll match my gold stilettos from South Africa!

The way the Ball works is that there are two dinner seatings, one at 1730 and one at 2030, and then the “ball” (i.e. pub night with music) afterwards. Two days ago we were informed that tickets would go on sale the following morning immediately after Global Studies in Purser’s Square, and that we must buy our tickets with the other people that we want in our dinner group (tables of either 4 or 6). As for choosing the early or late seating, it would be first-come first-serve. Me, Lauren, Steve, Diane, Diana, and Erin were obviously not trying to get stuck with the early-bird seating, so we met outside Purser’s Square at about 1030 (right before the end of Global Studies) to try and be at the front of the line. Of course, just about every other group of SASers had the same idea, so when G.S. was officially declared “over,” there was a MAD RUSH to the Purser’s desk. In about 10 seconds flat, there were 200 people in Purser’s Square. It was pure chaos. Of course, the Voice gets on the loudspeaker and tells us to form a single file line and blah blah blah…but if an entire dinner party is required to purchase their tickets at the same time, then that’s just not going to happen. And if it’s first-come first-serve, then groups are not just going to mosey up to the Purser’s desk at evenly-spaced intervals throughout the day to buy their tickets. The mid-morning Purser’s Square mosh pit scenario was SO obviously going to happen; I have no idea what SAS was thinking. If this doesn’t prove that sometimes there’s a definite lack of common sense on this ship, then I don’t know what would. Anyway though, what ended up happening with the pandemonium is that within 5 minutes, the Voice came back on the loudspeaker and announced that ticket sales were postponed until further notice. Within a day, SAS ended up going the route that everyone had thought would make most sense in the first place—each dinner group simply filled out a sheet with everyone’s names, ID numbers, and preferred seating, and now we’re waiting to see if we got our first choice. Fingers crossed.

I’m going to bed now, but first, how’s this for some Very Serious but nonetheless hilarious SAS news??—On our last night in Ho Chi Minh City, a giant throng of drunken SASers formed a riotous mass in their attempts to make it through gangway security by on-ship time. I’d had dock time all day and was safe in my bed watching movies at the time of the Incident, so I had no idea that this occurred until I got an extremely stern letter from the “appalled” dean on my door. Apparently, SASers + booze + imminent curfew = danger/embarassment, so approximately 200 SASers have dock time tomorrow—that’s almost a third of the boat!! Guess I’ll have some extra company, at least for the first two hours of dock time, which appears to be how much you get for being a violent, unruly drunk. Hmmm. I guess anything like a whole day of dock time would just be unfair, because then they’d have to totally miss out on getting drunk in the great city of Hong Kong.

One last thing: Happy [slightly-belated] Birthday to my sister Lauren, who turned 18 on March 31st. Her presents are from the Scott Market in Myanmar and will be mailed from Beijing in a few days. :)

Vietnam Afterglow

2006-03-31T23:02:00.000-05:00

I am so excited to share everything about Vietnam, because I had some of my best SAS experiences during my three days there. I know that I say this every time, but it’s my new favorite country that we’ve been to. Everybody must make an effort to go. I would love to live there someday, and get this—even Lauren would! She and I are polar opposites in just about every significant way, so it really says something about Vietnam that we could both be happy there.

I don’t have time to write tonight (surprise surprise), but I will soon, I swear. I’ll also eventually get around to South Africa, India, and Myanmar, mark my word. I’ll spend my next four dock times in the computer lab, writing furiously, pausing only to use the 6th deck bathroom. It’ll be glorious.

Now, as a special treat, here is a Sea Poem written by my anonymous roommate:

Solitude of the Ocean

Vast emptiness stretches for miles
The sky touches the sea
With nothing in between
And I am all alone

The crashing waves slap against the water
The rough wind blows through my ears
Not a single human noise can be detected
And I am all alone

Blue is the only color visible
The infinite sky, the threatening water
Even in my heart
Because I am all alone

The breeze feels cool but the sun is hot
A light mist sprays on my face
My boat sways back and forth
But there is no one to reach for
For I am all alone

At home there is chaos and confusion
People slaves to their stressful lives
But the sea is calm and I feel free
Because I am all alone.

This was for her Creative Writing class. We like it because she put off doing it for about a month and still got an A, and it’s also the corniest thing ever. As SAS winds to a close, I’m going to start having my friends write Guest Blog entries for me to post on here. But I promise, no more poetry.

The Straight of Malacca, and here at the Docka

2006-03-27T02:00:00.000-05:00

I should be writing about South Africa, India, and/or Myanmar right now, but it’s just not gonna happen tonight. I have a hard time getting motivated for that kind of entry, because relaying events feels like such a chore. My specialty is expounding on the random thoughts that run through my head, which has always suited me just fine, but now I actually have to stick to a topic. Feels like homework. But infinitely better, of course—this thing is actually one of my favorite means of procrastination here on the ship. There have been many a travel-writing paper that got put off thanks to ‘karenintheworld’!

This past interval between Myanmar and Vietnam was certainly an eventful one. It was only four days, but it felt like a week…although somehow the days flew by. The crew put on an awesome / hilarious / touching talent show for us, and then the next day was Crew Appreciation Day. Everyone gave their cabin stewards the day off by putting "do not clean" slips on their doors, and we decorated our whiteboards and halls with thank-you signs. It was a special day for us students too—no classes! I don’t know why, but I don’t need a reason.

The next night was my Sea Social in the faculty/adult lounge. Lauren, Erin, Jeanenne, Carrie, Dan, and Matt are all in my sea (the Arabian), so it was a good time. We bought drink tickets, got dressed up, and socialized with the adults from 2100-2300. A perk of the sea social is that you can get 15 oz Guinness beer at the lounge bar, which is a big deal when you’re limited to four. Too bad it’s the nastiest stuff ever. I was finally starting to come around to canned beer, but now I’m probably back at square one.

Tony and I watched The Graduate one night, and I loved it—I can’t believe I’ve never seen it! It’s rare that I find a movie which can survive my attention span, and this one did. It fits exactly with my sense of humor, and of course, the music is great. I’d never realized before that Mrs. Robinson isn’t supposed to be the graduate’s true love interest…I’d always pictured the movie as a less-icky Harold and Maude. I’m definitely going to try to find it at the $1 movie market in Vietnam.

Two nights ago there was a "Drag Show Cabaret" put on by the Gay-Straight Alliance. It was such a ridiculous good time, and it cheered me up at a time when I needed it most. I think it’s so weird and so funny how much guys love dressing up as women!! Haha that perhaps came out wrong…it’s just that so many straight, super-masculine guys went all out, while most of the girls that dressed up as guys still attempted to at least look like pretty guys. The best part was seeing the conduct officer, student life director, my RD, etc. in full-on drag. I’m sure those pictures will be featured prominently in the yearbook! (although probably not on the SAS website…).

I also did some work during those days at sea. But not a lot. There was a Global Studies test the day before Vietnam, and I got 46/50—sooo happy about that. Kind of funny that the one class I may get an A in, is the one that I just can’t seem to wake up for.

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Before I go to bed, picture this:

It’s nighttime. You’re floating on your back, in a pool, on a ship, docked at a port. The water glows aqua with golden underwater lights. Hardly anybody else is around. In all directions, you’re surrounded by the lit-up buildings of Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. The stars are out. The water’s warm. There are bats flying around far overhead. Somehow, you feel like the only person in the world.

This was me tonight. Dock time is not so bad.

Vietnam dock time, Day 1!!!!!!!

2006-03-26T09:30:00.000-05:00

Here we are in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam…well, almost. We haven’t docked yet, but that should be happening anytime now. Out the window there’s fishing boats all over the place, and then no more than a few hundred yards from the ship’s starboard side is a house-lined street parallel to the shore. I can see people going about their daily lives, many on motorcycles. The horizon is low, and tropical forest extends as far back as the eye can see. This looks like it’ll be a NEAT port, and tomorrow I get to explore it—can’t wait!

The dock time for us elite Varanasi-trekkers is 2 days (first and last) in each of the remaining three ports. This is a major blow, but I’m getting over it. It could be so much worse, and how many people have an opportunity to visit these countries for even three days?? I know that I’ll be back someday if it’s important enough to me. So far, the only country which I absolutely MUST return to is India, and you know what I realized? I wouldn’t have this drive if it weren’t for Varanasi. Chennai, Delhi, and the Taj were neat, but it was the Holy City that instilled in me a real appreciation and passion for the country. This makes my travel to Varanasi a priceless experience. Yes, it dealt me the initial hindrance of six days dock time, but now I am compelled to revisit India, and I will. Thanks to Varanasi, I have a definite future of travel in one of the most remarkable countries in the world. How lucky I am that SAS was unorganized, unclear, and contradictory in their warnings about the city, because otherwise I’d have known that it was prohibited, and I wouldn’t have gone.

Another factor that is helping me come to peace with the situation is the support of adults here on the ship. Believe it or not folks, V. wasn’t clearly banned!! Myself and other students have spoken with professors who are 100% on our side, and in some cases, have even voiced their opinions to the administration. One of my favorite profs (and probably amongst the top 10 most intelligent people on the ship) misinterpreted the pre-port speech as well, although in a different way. S/he came away from it with the understanding that we could not to go to Varanasi because the city was closed to tourism—and then it reopened the next day. There are even administrative faculty members who support us fully and have helped us out whenever possible, and I honestly don’t know what we would have done without these beacons of reason and understanding.

I’m going to go back to bed now. Lauren, Tony and I stayed up late last night watching a movie…I think I got about two hours?? It doesn’t matter though, because I can sleep all day, guilt-free! Or at least part of the day; I’ll spend the rest watching movies, reading by the pool, swimming, working out, and writing my Myanmar blog. Not such a bad life. I really am so, so, so lucky, regardless of all that’s gone down these few days. Got to keep things in perspective.

Speaking of which, I am getting really sick of this whole Varanasi issue, and I’m going to stop talking about it. Others can take my lead and do the same (with this blog as a vessel, at least—try the S06 message board). You should also know that as liberal as I am, I have no qualms about censorship when it comes to my blog, and that’s why there are fewer comments on the Controversial Post than there were this morning. I won’t delete if I disagree, but know that it’ll be a waste of your time if you write anything rude, insulting, disrespectful, and so on with the synonyms. Let me stress that such comments do not faze me; they simply make me marvel at the kinds of people out there in the world. Of course, if a comment’s grammar and spelling are awful enough, I may just leave it on, since I know that some people enjoy the comic relief.

Generally though, I’ve appreciated each person’s two cents so. much. Which reminds me-- good luck to Sarah S05 on her senior honor thesis…that’ll be me before I know it. :)

Here's how I feel...

2006-03-24T02:52:00.000-05:00

In regards to the comments on my previous post:

It makes me very uncomfortable to be the cause of such controversy, especially when it’s between extreme loved ones (i.e., my family) and extreme strangers who I nonetheless feel a certain affinity with (i.e., SAS alumni). To solve this dilemma, I’d like to refer everyone to my first post and emphasize that when it comes down to it, it’s all about ME (as bratty as that may sound). These are my own SAS experiences/emotions/regrets/perspectives, and when it comes down to it, there is no such thing as “right” or “wrong.” I write how I feel, and I am never anything but honest. I invite all who are interested to read, and I am appreciative of any and all feedback that appears in the comments section. Nevertheless, I refuse to apologize for the way that I am. As my little sister wrote, I generally take the “slightly riskier, less-followed path.” I never thought of myself in this light before I read her comment, but upon reflection, I can definitely understand why she’d describe me as such. If this is the type of person that I am, then these are the kinds of experiences that will come my way, just by nature of my personality and the people that I surround myself with.

I want people to read my blog, don’t get me wrong. But if you read it as a vessel of comparison to your own experiences or those of others, then please be aware of such, and remember that everyone is different (and thankfully so). I am not interested in criticism, only enlightenment. Please word comments accordingly if you wish them to be taken seriously. My belief is that intelligence is accurate on a 360-degree scale, i.e. there is no one “correct” answer. It all depends on point of view, life experience, even wording in description. Respect is of utmost importance, above all else. I would never be able to even consider the wisdom of others if there wasn’t mutual respect, and I do not think that this is an uncommonly-held sentiment. I’m getting off subject though…let me take the easy way out and make a few bullet-points re Varanasi.

-- I am fascinated by the perspectives/viewpoints of others, especially those that are different from my own (see my post on the Enlightenment Club?!). Like I just said, I believe in no single intelligence, no single “right answer.” Larger contexts are exactly the type of paradigm-shifts that I hope for. However, I am fiercely protective of my family, and after reading a very interesting, well-written post, it made me bristle to see a jab directed at KO (my older sister). Resorting to character-blows will always detract from effect.

--To the anonymous wonderer of whether or not I was at the pre-port: the answer is yes, as is stated in my original post. In defense of not only myself but the entire Spring 2006 voyage, pre-port meetings are very well-attended. Perhaps in the case of Mauritius, this is less than true, but ports such as Brazil and India drew boatloads of people (no pun intended). Especially in the case of India, we SASers were scared, and we saw the pre-port as necessary to survival. The union, piano lounge, and satellite classrooms were packed during the meeting, and that’s far more than can be said for the average Global Studies session.

--As for the diplomatic briefing once we arrived in Chennai—of course, there was one, just as there is in every port. However, it consisted of Indian diplomats speaking, not SAS officials. By this point, Varanasi had already been re-opened to tourism, but regardless, it was not the place or the responsibility of the diplomat to tell us SASers whether or not to go to Varanasi.

--Kristin (KO), I know that you said it in jest, but I’d never be thrilled for you to be given more credit then me! Not only are you my older sister whom I have looked up to for the past 20 years, but you also always display my definition of intelligence, levelheadedness, and spirit.

--As for the "three out of seven blogs" which mentioned travel to Varanasi being disallowed….they don’t especially concern me. I do not have enough internet minutes to check them out, but if I did, I have a feeling I would not disagree with anything they say. I’m the first to admit that SAS stated, “Do Not Go To Varanasi.” However, this can be interpreted in a number of ways. SAS also warned us, “Do not wear open-toed shoes,” yet there is no SASer who worried about getting dock time for breaking THAT rule. It all depends on vocabulary, interpretations, and definitions. Nothing straightforward or substantially unarguable.

--The only comment which I take any real issue with is the last. I listened to the rules. This was not the “99%” of the time that SAS rules were clearly stated. Varanasi being FORBIDDEN was not put on the SAS website until after the fact (and it was NEVER put in the Dean’s Memo, which is all that matters when it comes to what we SASers actually see). When I said that my group “covered our tracks,” I meant that we took actions after returning to the ship and discovering that we’d broken a major “rule.” We collected all of our Varanasi paraphernalia and hid it in a neutral person’s room, did damage control in regards to the friends that we’d already talked with about our trip, and in my case, I removed the blog entry which I’d already written that mentioned Varanasi. Nothing was “pre-thought out” when it came to covering our tracks, because as far as we knew at that point, there was no need to cover. I have to wonder why anyone would bother to read my blog if he/she would believe that I’d be untruthful about any aspect of my experience. Doesn’t that completely negate the point??

The bottom line is that as much as I enjoy debating an issue, it crosses a line when I feel that I have to defend my own honor on a blog that makes no secret of being unequivocally 100% Karen Ochsenreiter.

Most importantly though, I’d like to thank each and every reader for caring about my own safety, the consequences of my actions, the safety of my shipmates, and the welfare of future voyages. These things are all that really matter.

Some good news...and then a lot of bad.

2006-03-22T02:55:00.002-05:00

After five days of hangin’ in Yangon, Myanmar has become my favorite SAS port yet. What an unexpected, awesome surprise, right?!? This isn’t just a result of my weird tastes, either—many SASers feel the same way.

Unfortunately, I won’t have time to write my Myanmar blog until tomorrow at the earliest. Trust me, I’m even sadder about this than you are. I STILL have to write those two papers that I meant to get done (or at least start) the night before we were allowed off the ship. I had the worst headache ever, which didn’t go away until about 0700, and I got no sleep whatsoever. Possibly because Dan came over around 0300 and we all hung out until breakfast…but with my headache, I wouldn’t have gotten sleep anyway. Besides, I hadn’t had a decent conversation with Dan since after Mauritius, so it was due time. He and I have different groups of friends, completely clashing personalities, and tend to annoy the hell out of each other, but somehow our friendship just refuses to die. ;)

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One last thing, before I go procrastinate for a bit and then start my papers.

This is important and pretty serious.

I’m finally able to provide an explanation for what I did in India, and why I couldn’t write about it before.

Basically, I made the choice to go to Varanasi.

As most of you know, the day before we arrived in Chennai, there was a Muslim terrorist bombing at a Varanasi temple. It killed about 15 people. As a result, ISE in Pittsburgh mandated that the city would no longer be a destination for the Delhi-Agra-Varanasi SAS trips. There were concerns about riots, and the city was temporarily closed to tourism anyway. SASers who had been set to visit Varanasi, either independently or through a field program, were understandably upset. I was VERY upset, because as my family and friends can attest, Varanasi was the one specific place that I was determined to see on SAS (well, that and the Great Wall…but mostly just Varanasi).

At the India pre-port meeting, we were told of the dangers in Varanasi, and that nobody should travel there. We were never expressly forbidden to travel there, or if we were, it was not made at ALL clear. It seemed like the same kind of warning that SAS gave concerning District Six in Capetown—it’s not safe, don’t go there, if you choose to you’ll die, and ISE won’t be held accountable. Of course, people went to District Six. People also went bungee-jumping in South Africa and even wore open-toed shoes in India, despite the dire warnings issued by SAS. Do you understand my point??? Despite my sarcasm creeping through, I really do realize that SAS is only trying to keep us safe, and that this is a good thing, and definitely something that I appreciate. However, being constantly told not to do certain things in countries, the majority of SASers interpreted the Varanasi warnings as recommendations rather than a prohibition.

There were 14 of us that had been planning on staying in Varanasi, but after the pre-port, that was no longer even considered. We still had flights to and from Delhi, and we figured on spending the extra 2 days in and around the city.

However, things changed—obviously. On our flight to Delhi, Tony and I had separate conversations with the businessmen around us, which made us rethink our plans. The men sitting next to me seemed completely unconcerned about the bombing, and were surprised that I’d stay away from Varanasi. Apparently it had already been reopened to tourism, and with all the security measures being taken, the city was currently safer than it had been before. There hadn’t been any rioting (I already knew this from an article that Dad emailed me), and life had pretty much returned to normal. I thought about 9/11 and how little hesitation there was to continue going into D.C., and all of a sudden it seemed far less justifiable to miss out on Varanasi.

Once we landed in Delhi, our group of 14 split into two almost immediately. There were 8 of us with a renewed drive to visit Varanasi (well, Lauren wasn’t enthusiastic, but she didn’t want to leave her close friends). The rest felt uncomfortable with the idea and opted out. Of the eight of us who went, there were five guys and three girls—definitely a safe male-to-female ratio.

So there you go. We went to Varanasi. It was incredible. I’ll write all about it when I get around to my India entry. Our only concerns about going were safety-related, and even those weren’t too strong. It wasn’t a case of young people assuming immortality—rather, it was a decision to make the most of our trip by intelligently weighing risks and not living in fear.

It’s rumored that a total of about 20 SASers traveled independently to Varanasi, although only once did my group cross paths with another shipmate. To put this in perspective, during our two hours at the Taj Mahal (on an unpopular visiting day), we ran into at least five other SASers. It’s surprisingly difficult to escape the “SAS bubble,” and it was glorious to be virtually the only Americans in Varanasi.

There’s an open-mic night the day after each port, and my group had been planning on sharing our experience with the shipboard community. However, that idea was quickly scrapped, as we returned to the ship and found out that visiting Varanasi had apparently been forbidden. SAS insists that this had clearly been of the same caliber as, for instance, the rule against traveling outside of a country’s borders (as opposed to “Don’t visit District Six”).

However, there is no doubt in my mind that the situation was far from clear. Perhaps not coincidentally, many of the SASers that went to Varanasi are amongst the most intelligent and multifaceted on the ship. These are not troublemakers, or people who would knowingly put themselves at risk for getting kicked off SAS. Furthermore, you’d think that at least one of such people would have been bright enough to pick up on a firm prohibition, if it was indeed issued.

So yeah, the present situation-- it’s not good. One SASer (not someone I traveled with) was nabbed before Myanmar. Not yet aware that Varanasi was off-limits, he spoke openly about his travels upon returning. Now, he may be kicked off the ship. This could easily have been any one of us that went—I mean, what would have happened if we’d unknowingly gone up and spoken at open-mic night?? I’m picturing security guards appearing out of nowhere and tackling us to the ground within ten seconds of beginning.

Anyway, an official SAS “investigation” is underway, and today my group made a joint decision to confess. We typed up a letter of explanation, signed our eight signatures, and turned it in to the conduct officer. There was little chance that we’d have gotten caught, since we took significant measures to cover our tracks. However, by turning ourselves in, we were guaranteed a lesser punishment than getting kicked off the ship. This probably means dock time, anywhere from a few hours to an entire port. The latter would be absolutely horrible, and I don’t even want to think about it. Nothing, though, would compare to getting kicked off. After much consideration, none of us were able to take such a chance.

What’s done is done; at least I can talk about it now. We’d hidden all of our Varanasi paraphernalia in Steve’s room (in case our rooms got searched), and it was nice to have my little urn of Ganges water back where it belongs. Dirtiest, holiest water ever. It’ll also be cool to tell the truth when people ask what I did in India…I felt so lame having to say “oh you know, just hung around Delhi.”

Still, I am so nervous about what our punishment will be. I’m hesitant to prepare for Vietnam, because who knows how much of a stay I’ll have there? The thought of missing out on Vietnam makes me want to cry. How ironic it’ll be, if I miss out on such a huge portion of the trip because I tried to make the most of an experience.

I’ll update when the sentencing is complete. Wish me luck.

Here we are, in Myanmar

2006-03-17T02:15:00.000-05:00

Today we arrived in Myanmar/Burma!! Although so far it’s been somewhat anticlimactic, since we can’t get off the ship until 0400 tomorrow. I went to Global Studies this morning because I heard that the interport lecturer was good, and I’d have to agree. Apparently all she talked about yesterday were the many reasons why we shouldn’t be stopping in Myanmar. Dictatorship military rule, human rights abuses, totalitarianism, etcetera—gosh, ISE really knows how to pick’em!

No, seriously though, I’m coming around to the idea of visiting this country. At first I was ambivalent about it, and then when we lost Venezuela and Kenya I was like, “trade Myanmar for Thailand!”, and now I’m realizing that this is an awesome opportunity to see what a truly anti-democratic country is like. Emphasis on the ANTI. China may be communist, but that’s nothing compared to Myanmar. They are removing beggars from the streets of Yangon to alter our impressions. We are not allowed to bring laptops or cell phones off the ship. Our cameras will be checked for sensitive footage before leaving. Hotmail and yahoo are banned nationwide (good thing I use gmail). We are warned not to engage in political conversations with locals, not for our own safety (nobody would dare mess with Team America), but for theirs—i.e., they could and would get beaten, arrested, or “disappeared.” No joke. The extent of the Burmese dictatorship is unbelievable. Train tracks end at the country’s boundaries. Students are forbidden to attend college. No more than four citizens are allowed to congregate at once. Unmarried and minor women can’t leave the country. Not surprisingly, huge restrictions are put on all forms of media, and as a result Burmese writers have created a “new style”-- their novels are pure nonsense, with nonexistent plots and ridiculous, contradictory themes. What a creative way to make a statement—just mirror the government in prose.

Burmese culture seems so cool on its own, and the fact that it’s against such an extreme political backdrop makes it all the more fascinating. Some SASers equate our stop in Myanmar with supporting the dictatorship, and word is that a few will refuse to get off the ship (although I’m sure that’ll turn out to be an empty promise). In my view, this is just stupid (to put it bluntly). The way to create change in the world is not to ignore problem situations and stay as far away as possible from them. After visiting Myanmar, we will be some of the relatively few Americans who are aware of the country’s existence and understand its dire state of affairs, not to mention have actually been there. Power comes from knowledge, correct?? Not from sailing on past for a week of debauchery in Thailand (as much as I plan on having that week sometime in my life!).

There’s the argument that tourism directly supports the [militaristic] government, but SAS posted a letter from the Myanmar port agent stating that all aspects of all field programs are arranged through local companies/hotels/restaurants ONLY. I’m going to assume that this is legit; I mean, who can I trust if I can’t trust SAS?!?! I’d venture that Myanmar is the most “delicate” port on the voyage, and it follows that by visiting, we are assuming significant responsibility. I’m actually mildly surprised that SAS trusts us to run amuck for 5 days here…but on to a different subject.

Normally I’d have a lot to catch up on between ports, but with a gap of only 3 days this time, there’s not much to report. It really sucks that we have such short periods at sea from this point on, because it’s going to make the trip FLY by. I think it was yesterday, we realized that in exactly one month, we’d be departing Japan. I don’t even want to think about that yet! I don’t want to go home. I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to have to face how broke I am, and how claustrophobic Olney truly is. I am dreading saying my goodbyes in San Diego, and realizing over the summer which SAS friendships will actually last. UGH I’m making myself depressed, different subject!

Ummm so I’m doing horribly in my classes and will most definitely get a C in at least one of them. As long as I get the credits though, that is ALL that matters. After a lifetime of straight A’s, I can have one semester where I barely scrape by, right?? Haha I know that I keep lowering my standards, but you would too! Speaking of classes, right now I should be writing an English paper that was due yesterday and a Psych paper that’s due “before Myanmar.” I wish I could say they’ll get done tonight, but I’m developing a headache and I’m not even done blogging yet. And I really should try to get a good night’s sleep! I’ve had a sore throat since India, and maintaining good health is my top priority right now. :)

My basic plan in Myanmar is as follows:

Tomorrow (Friday): “Local Markets” SAS trip with Diane, Diana, Lauren (1300-1800). Shower on ship. Take 2000 shuttle into Yangon with some guys from our India trip. Party till about 0100 or 0200 (NO later than 0300), and take cab back to ship. Set 3 alarms!!

Saturday: SAS trip to Bago (0715-1845). Take shuttle into Yangon and get a hotel room with Lauren, Diane, and Diana, probably at the same hotel where the SAS trip is staying. Merriment.

Sunday: Free day! I have a few ideas. Must run them by friends. Maybe day trip to the countryside? Another night at the hotel.

Monday: Wake up early and get cab to the ship. SAS trip “Meditation and Feeding Ceremony” from 0800-1300. Back to hotel; rest of day free. We will probably want to do some shopping. Last night at the hotel. Probable “last night in Myanmar” celebration.

Tuesday: Take shuttle back to ship at 1100. On-ship time is 1300. Spend day writing my Myanmar blog!!!

Just fyi, Monday’s “Meditation and Feeding Ceremony” refers to that of the Buddhist monks. I’m excited about this because, like the service visits, it would be difficult to do independent of SAS. I’ve always been interested in Eastern religions, and I was blown away by Hinduism’s presence in India. Buddhism interests me even more, and is an aspect of the upcoming ports that I am so looking forward to. I was at a cheap bookstore in Chennai, so I picked up some good reading material for the next few weeks: one book detailing Hindu perspectives on scientific facts, another by the Dalai Lama called The Universe in a Single Atom (or something like that), and then a Tibetan Buddhism one on living and dying. I also bought a copy of Siddhartha, just because the one we have at home is on the verge of disintegration.

Okay, I’m going to go pop a few ibuprofen and then forge ahead on my schoolwork. Hopefully, these will be some of the worst papers I’ve ever written, because I’m exhausted and in no mood for perfectionism tonight.

INDIA (a prelude)

2006-03-14T00:06:00.000-05:00

I’m back! We made it! India was off the wall. This is what SAS is all about. Chennai to Delhi to -------- to Agra to Delhi and back to Chennai. All in less than five days. I am more fulfilled and enlightened after this branch of the journey than I’ve ever been in my life. There’s so much to say, so much to write about, and I’m actually looking forward to recounting it all. I will be back in India before I’m 30, that is for sure, and it will be for at least six months. Never before have I felt so completely foreign. After India, I am a firm believer that getting out of your comfort zone is the best thing you can do for your mind, body, and soul. I feel incredibly lucky, naïve, juxtaposed, worldly, and above all, BLOND! There’s billions of lives going on simultaneously all over the world, a fact which is inconceivable unless you bear witness with your own eyes. Three days until we arrive in Myanmar, and I’ll attempt to do India adequate justice before them.

NOTE: I have found out that unfortunately, due to extenuating circumstances, I will not be able to post my India blog for at least a few more weeks. You never know who reads these things, and I'm not at all saying that we travelled anywhere we weren't "supposed" to, but what if we did?? Nothing was made very clear, but I'm going to air on the side of caution and refrain from writing...at least until all these SAS-rumors blow over and are replaced with freak-outs over Myanmar totalitarianism and whatnot. Look forward to my India post though, because it was all TOTALLY worth it. :)

Here Comes India...

2006-03-06T20:09:00.000-05:00

In three short days, I’m going to wake up and be in India. Oh. Em. Gee. I am so scared. I wrote a paragraph about my “India Expectations” today for Travel Writing, and I’ll post that sometime soon. These past few days, I’ve been working hard to figure out my trip. I’ve done a lot of reading, a lot of research, used up a LOT of internet minutes, and have prepared the following itinerary:

Day 1 (Thursday 3/9)
- Flight from Chennai to Delhi @ 1:40 pm (Jet Airways)
- Arrive Delhi 4:30 pm
- See the Red Fort?
- Still need to book hotel for the night. We’d like to stay in Old Delhi, but I’m having trouble finding one that has a website.

Day 2 (Friday 3/10)
- Train to Agra at ~6 a.m. (arrive ~8)
- See the Taj Mahal and the abandoned city of Fatehpur Sikri
- Overnight train to Varanasi at about 9 pm (still need to book this)

Day 3 (Saturday 3/11)
- Arrive in Varanasi around 8 or 9 a.m.
- Spend day touring ghats, temples, and markets
- Stay at Taj Ganges Hotel (five-star, woot woot!)

Day 4 (Sunday 3/12)
- Sunrise boat ride down Ganges
- Overnight train back to New Delhi in the late afternoon

Day 5 (Monday 3/13)
- Flight from Delhi to Chennai @ 6:45 a.m.
- Arrive in Chennai 9:20 a.m.
- Spend day exploring the city
- On-ship time 9 pm

I’m traveling with Lauren (obviously) and also Andrea and Zach, who both responded to a note that I posted on the bulletin boards a while back. To Andrea’s Mom (who commented on here a few weeks ago): I’m so happy to be doing this with your daughter, and I’ll be sure to make my India write-up extra good, since it’ll be of personal interest to so many sets of parents. Andrea seems levelheaded and smart, and that’s the kind of travel companion that I want to have in India!

The other night in the computer lab, I was searching for flights at the same time that some guys were, so we all compared plans and it turned out that our itineraries were almost exactly the same. We went ahead and booked our flights and hotel together, and I also advised them to take overnight trains rather than planes between Delhi and Varanasi, which they decided to do as well. I’m going to let them know about lodging in Delhi and train times once I figure all that out, so most likely, I’ll be traveling with an additional 3 guys and one girl the entire time. This should make my parents happy-- normally they’d never encourage me to stay at a hotel with guys, but apparently it’s a different story when in developing countries!

It’s such a pain in the ass making travel reservations online, because the internet has been infuriatingly slow ever since we left Mauritius. The only way to do it is to wait until the middle of the night, and even then it’s not fast. I bought $50 worth of internet time (125 minutes) on March 3, and it ran out yesterday. I couldn’t believe it. I never expected to spend so much of my SAS budget on this stupid slow ship internet. These past few days were an exception to the norm though, because I had so many reasons that I HAD to be online. Obviously, India needed to be booked, and I also had to call my parents (using Skype) after Mauritius. What probably took up the most time, though, is that I had to figure out my schedule for the fall so I could email it to my advisor and get first pick of classes. Since Pitt’s course catalog and schedule of classes are both online (as is the VERY important ratemyprofessors.com), my internet minutes suffered greatly.

But yeah, if all goes as planned, here’s what my fall 2006 schedule will look like:

- Sculpture (M,W 1-2:40)
- Clinical Psychology (M, 6-8:30 pm)
- Expressionism (Tu, Th 9:30-10:45)
- Systematic Philosophy (Tu, Th 2:30-3:45)
- Empiricism (Tu, Th 6-7:15)
- Asian Art History (external studies)

How much are my Tuesdays and Thursdays going to suck??! Oh well, as long as I have Fridays off. I can’t believe that this will be my second-to-last semester of college, though. Eek. The last one will be even worse, because I’ll need to take 19 credits (and that means apply for a scholarship through the Honors College, since Pitt charges extra past 18). The reason I’m taking such an insane number of classes is because at Pitt, if you graduate with 150 credits as opposed to 120, you can get two bachelor’s degrees. So I’ll have a Bachelor of the Arts (for my Art History and Philosophy majors) and a Bachelor of the Sciences (for my Psych major). And why, one might ask, would I want to do this? Good question! I have no idea. Basically, because it’s possible, and it’s free (as long as I still graduate in 4 years). I’ll have no use for a BA in my career, but whatev, might as well turn my fun majors into a degree if it’s doable.

I have to go get ready for pub night now. It should be a good time, since there hasn’t been one for the past two nights, and the shipboard community has gotten increasingly antsy. The Voice made an announcement a few minutes ago, stating that the administration has gotten wind of the “unofficial party theme” of the night, and that if we remove sheets or blankets from our cabins, we “will be hurtin’.” There goes the toga party, I guess. Haha they didn’t like the unofficial “Golf Pros and Tennis H*s” theme the other night, either. ;)

MAURITIUS

2006-03-06T01:13:00.000-05:00

Since it’s still so fresh in my mind, I’m going to write about Mauritius before I do South Africa—but I WILL eventually get to the latter, I promise. An unexpected perk of writing a public blog is that I’m held accountable for my posts, or lack thereof…if I’m late reporting on a country, people make it known to me that they’re waiting and I need to hurry up. This is helpful rather than annoying, because sometimes I need that extra kick in the pants to get things done. If I were keeping a private blog right now (like I normally do), South Africa would end up a big missing gap in the story (although it would remain on my to-do lists for the rest of the voyage). Since I know that people actually read this and care, though, that’s not going to happen.

Mauritius is a really, really neat country. I was so pleasantly surprised, as I think a lot of people were. Ever since the itinerary was switched from Kenya to Mauritius back during the fall ’05 voyage, there’s been so much grumbling about wasting time at "typical tourist destinations," namely Puerto Rico and Mauritius. This is a legitimate argument when it comes to Puerto Rico, which seemed about as foreign as the Bahamas, or any other tropical island that everyone has vacationed at with their families at least once. Mauritius, however, is nothing like the rest. It is a popular destination for wealthy Indians and Africans, but what I found interesting is that apparently, what these vacationers look for in a tropical island is very different from what Americans do. Picture the Bahamas: with tourism as its number-one source of income, it is completely tailored to tourists and their needs. The Mauritian economy is just as dependent on tourism, and yet it is one of the least "touristy" countries that we’ve visited so far. Yes, there are hotels and villas scattered throughout, and a touristy waterfront area in Port Louis (although it’s nothing compared to that in Capetown). As for restaurants, shopping, bars, and the like, there are mainly only those which the Mauritians need for their own purposes.

I stayed at a house about 10 driving minutes away from Grand Baie, the most built-up, touristy part of the island. Despite the fact that there were several low-key hotels and villas within walking distance, there were no sidewalks, no streetlights, only one phone booth that I could find, and unpaved roads except for the main one. We went out to dinner at the same place two nights in a row, because it was the only restaurant we could find. The only store was a "supermarket" down the block, which we must have gone to about 10 times in 3 days, and it basically consisted of a big, long, hot room filled with the most random stuff ever. There was food such as cheese, yoghurt, and single eggs stuffed in soda freezers, a couple shelves lined with an odd assortment of packaged snacks and ingredients, and a wooden table covered with fruits and vegetables, some in good shape and some definitely not. About ¾ of the store contained every kind of souvenir you can imagine, just spread about on shelves and tables, most of it collecting dust. If you wandered into one of the dark back corners of the store, the merchandise would thin out and you’d find yourself amongst big junky piles of random crap. It was run by an Indian family, who certainly got used to the sight (and sound) of us over the course of our stay, but we gave them so much business that I hope they could forgive us for being stereotypically loud Americans. As for the beach, the only alterations made for tourism were the dirt road running parallel to it and the occasional trashcan. Every so often a man would ride through selling pineapples off the back of his bike, but that was about it in terms of solicitation, unless you count the icecream truck that drove around to the tune of "Silent Night."

Anyway, my point is that this was no Hotel Atlantis complex, and that’s why I loved it—Mauritius just seems so real. It has somehow managed to incorporate tourism without allowing it to dumb down or even really affect the country’s culture, of which it has plenty. Mauritius may have been a colony since the 1600s, but where else can you find a mostly-Indian population that speaks French and lives in Africa??

I admit that my perspective is somewhat limited, since I didn’t actually go to Grand Baie or to the other popular area called Flic en Flac. The majority of SASers stayed at one of these locations, which explains why we saw so few familiar faces over the three days. But as close as we were to Grand Baie, we felt none of its touristy influence, if it was indeed that kind of a place. About 30 SASers rented three houses there, which I hear turned out to be complete holes in a totally ghetto area, so I know for a fact that they didn’t have a typical tourist experience. My friends and I were originally set to go with the group of 30, but Dan removed us from the list at the last minute since we were the last to sign up and it was too many people…we were pissed for awhile, but now we’re considering ourselves lucky. :)

As for Flic en Flac, this is where the majority of SASers went, and it was apparently a huge American takeover of the place. There was a 60-person skinny-dipping party that got broken up by the police, and I hesitate to repeat rumors on here, but this is from a reliable source—word is that there were calls placed to the U.S. embassy with complaints about the out-of-control, drunken American students everywhere. There was also a house full of SASers that was broken into, and everyone’s cameras, iPods, and etc. were stolen. So yeah, I am REALLY glad that I was far from the Flic en Flac chaos.

It’s kind of funny, because lots of people came back from Mauritius completely sick of their friends—apparently being in close quarters with tons of people and constantly-flowing alcohol breeds drama or something? There are so many crazy, ridiculous stories that came out of those 3 days in Mauritius, and everyone (my friends and I included) seemed to have some very bad experiences as well as amazing ones. I personally learned a lot in this country-- about myself, about other people, and about what I want to get out of the rest of my travels. I think that for many, Mauritius represented one last opportunity to get it all out of their systems. From this point on, being in countries such as India, Myanmar, Vietnam, and China, Semester at Sea is going to be much more serious and challenging. I am completely ready for this new "branch" of the journey, though; I’ve had great fun so far, but I’m ready to trade some of that for new kinds of experiences.

Anyway-- I suppose I should get on with it!

Day 1: Monday, February 27

I had a "service visit and city orientation" tour at 0930 with SAS, so I woke up at 0800, ate breakfast, and then began to get ready. Lauren was also signed up for the trip, but she didn’t feel like going. At 0830, The Voice announced that all morning trips should report to the 7th deck to prepare to leave. This did NOT make me happy, because I should have had an hour left to get my stuff together, get dressed, etc. and I HATE being rushed. So I hurriedly took care of everything I needed to, got out to the bus by 0900, and lo and behold, it still didn’t leave until 0930. I had to sit on the stifling-hot, mosquito-infested bus for half an hour, when I could have been on the boat doing things such as changing my money. Sometimes there’s just no rhyme or reason to these crazy SAS methods.

We finally left and drove about 20 minutes to a government-run old-age home. We were shown around, had opportunities to interact with the residents, and listened to the words of an elderly guru visiting from India. He’s traveled all over the world, including several trips to the U.S., and was at the end of a 15-day stay at the Home. He spoke about the interconnectedness of all people and how we share nature as our Mother. It was inspiring to hear firsthand the words of a guru, and he emanated so much wisdom and spirituality. At the end of the talk, everyone lined up to shake his hand, but he gave out hugs instead.

The old-age home itself was very different from what you’d find in the United States. Located in the woods, it was a complex of buildings connected by dirt paths. Clothes hung drying from clotheslines, dogs slept in the shade, and residents sat around in plastic chairs. Nobody was doing anything besides sitting, but the surroundings were so peaceful and lovely that it didn’t seem unfortunate. The rooms were stark and had curtains for doors, and most beds were located in a dormitory-style hall, but everything was clean and orderly. I’d been excited to practice my French through interactions with the residents, but it turned out that the majority spoke Creole, so communication was difficult. I was still able to exchange smiles and handshakes, though, and a few times I asked if I could take someone’s picture. After taking it, I’d show them their image on the screen, which always elicited delighted laughter. I wandered off on my own for a bit and came across an adorable, tiny, ancient woman sitting alone in a big room full of about 15 beds. As soon as she saw me she smiled and waved, and I went over and sat on the bed across from her. Neither of us understood anything that the other was saying, but it made both of us happy to interact, nonetheless. How different can two people be—a blond, 20-year-old American girl and a shriveled Indo-Mauritian woman of at least 90 years. She must have been through so much during her time in this world, and I consider myself lucky to have crossed paths with her.

I met one man who spoke English, and I talked to him for a bit with my friend Kerri. He was 75, and commented on how young we were at 20 and 21. He asked if we were married yet, told us about some paintings that he had hanging up, and took a picture with me. I also had an interesting experience in the area for the mentally disabled. There was one elderly man in particular who was very outgoing and friendly, and when two female professors started talking to him, he gave them each a double-cheek French air kiss. I introduced myself a bit later, and he leaned in to do what I thought would be the same thing, but which turned out to be an attempt at a very different kind of French greeting! Everyone thought it was hilarious that he tried to kiss me for real, and the professors were all, "Are you okay, are you okay??!" Which of course I was—although I hadn’t at all expected to acquire an 80-year-old Mauritian boyfriend!

After spending awhile at the old-age home, we got back on the bus and went to another, which was pretty similar. It was a woman’s 98th birthday, and we sang Happy Birthday to her. Next we visited the tomb of some priest, which was really pointless and uninteresting, and then we went to a secondary school for teens that had failed their primary education (and would otherwise have had no alternative but to sell drugs or resort to prostitution). It was a one-room school, and we sat amongst the students while the teacher explained to us (in English) how it all works. She had a girl stand up, and she told us that the girl is "a retard" and that when she first came to the school, she couldn’t even go up stairs on her own, but she’s since improved tremendously. All of us kind of looked at each other in shock over the very un-PC description of the girl, but I guess that’s only by American standards. The woman also answered her cell phone twice while talking to us, so I guess that’s another nonexistent faux pas in Mauritius. I kind of like that Mauritians apparently don’t get so offended by little things; perhaps that’s why their stress levels are so low. Anyhow, we spent about an hour hanging out with the students, and it was neat because they’re closer to us in age than the kids in the townships were. I spoke some very-broken French with a girl who had her nose pierced, and I showed her my bellybutton ring, the likes of which she hadn’t seen before. As a group, we all sang some songs, played a game, and learned how to dance Mauritian-style while one of the students beat a drum. A boy about half my height grabbed me to dance with him, and I’ve never moved so awkwardly in my life, but it was still a fun experience. At the end of our visit, everyone took pictures, and then they all crowded out onto the porch to wave goodbye and blow kisses as we drove away.

On our way back to the boat, we made a quick stop at a lookout point over the city (Port Louis) to take pictures. It was really pretty—thousands of tiny buildings nestled between green mountains on one side and the Indian Ocean on the other. We got back to the boat at about 1400, I ate lunch (which had been kept waiting for us) with Erin and Kerri, and then I used Erin’s phone to call Lauren and find out where I’d be staying for the next two days. That morning, Lauren, Steve, Diane, and Diana had been responsible for the task of finding us a place to stay in Mauritius. They had an easy time of it thanks to Steve’s mom, who had already looked into it for us and secured a few possibilities [Mrs. Brantley, if you happen to be reading, thank you so much for your help!]. When I talked to Lauren, they’d already chosen a house and had been there for awhile. I didn’t want to pay for an entire half-hour taxi ride on my own, so I decided to wait for our friends Molly, Ryan, Corinne, and Ashley to return from their SAS trip at 1630 (they were also staying at the house). Until then, I kept myself busy by showering, napping, and packing my overnight bag. At about 1715, the five of us were ready to go; I negotiated a transportation price of $40 for two cabs (we needed two since no more than 4 passengers are allowed per cab in Mauritius). It was slightly rainy, and there was a full, vibrant rainbow across the entire sky as we pulled out of the dock area.

Our cabbies brought us to a store to pick up some cheap grocery items, and then we got super-confused because the house doesn’t really have an address and there was no way to find it. One of the drivers went into a store and actually bought a calling card so that we could call Lauren’s phone and have them come meet us on the main road, but of course she didn’t pick up until about our 15th try. Turns out they’d all been in the ocean and hadn’t heard it ring, how convenient. It wasn’t a big deal though; I got over it quickly as soon as I saw the house, as well as the bedroom that Lauren had claimed for us, which happened to be the biggest/girliest (and one of the two with A/C). :) The house was sooo nice, on both the inside and outside, and it cost us each only $20 for two nights. There was a big living room with three new-looking couches, an upstairs sitting room, four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a well-stocked kitchen, and a dining room table that the guys converted to a beer pong table in about 10 seconds flat. Lauren had packed my happy-face ping-pong balls, which I brought on SAS for completely NON-alcoholic reasons, but it’s cool cause amazingly, all but one managed to make it back to the ship on Wednesday (and that one, I stepped on).

After getting settled in, I went out to dinner with Lauren, Molly, Ryan, Corinne, and Ashley (the rest had bought food to cook at the house). We went to a pizza and pasta place down the road, which turned out to be really nice, surrounded by awesome gardens and fish ponds and overhanging vines. The service was horrible, but maybe just by our impatient American standards, I don’t know. I can appreciate the slow-paced lifestyle, but that slow is just ridiculous.

Walking back to the house after dinner, I was overwhelmed by the most incredible night sky I’ve ever seen. Dad, I wish you could have seen it. I wish all of you could have seen it!! The stars were so crisp and clear and filled up the ENTIRE sky, almost down to the horizon. I’m so used to my perfect eyesight by now that I hardly even notice it, but that night, I thought to myself several times, "thank god I sprung for the Lasik before and not after going on SAS!"

The rest of the night was spent having good old-fashioned fun. We pulled all the couches up close to the coffee table and played cards (Kings), and then ran down the street to go swimming in one of the hotel pools. Turns out we crashed the RD party, and they all had to go inside because they’re not allowed to fraternize with students. I had no idea that "fraternize" included simply hanging out, and I felt bad the next day when I realized they’d gone inside because of us. It’s kind of weird, because the RDs are all pretty young (mine is only 26), and at home I’d be friends with people that age. But I definitely understand why SAS needs to have such a rule.

Day 2: Tuesday, February 28

I woke up freezing at about 1000; perhaps we went a bit too far with the A/C? Before long everyone was up and hanging out in our room. Molly, Ryan, Corinne, and Ashley went back to the boat because Molly was sick and the rest needed money. A maid came around 1100 (I wouldn’t be surprised if she quit her job after dealing with our mess for two days), and we headed to the beach. It started drizzling on the way, so we stopped at the supermarket and picked up some food to eat at the house. As soon as we were back at the house, the rain ceased, so we quickly ate and set out again, right as the rain returned. Back to the supermarket to buy some crackers, since the "biscuits" that we’d gotten earlier turned out to be cookies, and just didn’t taste right with cheese. Finally, on our third try, we made it to the beach, and it stayed sunny and nice for the rest of the day. We hung out there until about 1700, me in the shade of the trees that came almost up to the water’s edge. Actually, most of the time we were all in the water, which was blue, clear, and the perfect temperature.

A motorboat trailed by 7 or 8 inner tubes pulled up to the shore and offered us rides for 100 rupees each (~3 USD), and of course Lauren and I jumped at the chance. We started out on our stomachs, and within 30 seconds, Lauren had fallen off and I’d barely made it that far. I couldn’t believe how difficult it was to stay on; I think the guy in the boat got some kind of sick pleasure out of making it torturous. Of course, it probably would have helped if I’d realized that there were front handles (I’d been holding onto the rope). After Lauren’s initial fall, we both switched to sitting on the tubes, and it was still difficult to stay on, but in a fun way this time (although Lauren fell off two more times, haha). When the ride was over and we returned to the beach, Rob and Steve were making fun of us, saying that tubing is the easiest thing ever and we’re just wimps….so I proposed a bet. We agreed to pay for them both to go, on their stomachs, but if either of them fell they’d have to be the ones to pay. They agreed, sooo sure of themselves, and it was the funniest thing ever when Rob fell off even quicker than Lauren had. And then fell off again. And then Steve fell. HAH! It was a great moment for the girls.

All six of us tried to go tubing at the same time later on in the afternoon, which was disastrous. We then had fun giving Lauren a big bum by stuffing sand in her bathing suit. This will soon appear as her facebook picture, so please, do check it out! We headed back to the house at about 1700, and everyone showered and/or napped until 1900 or so, at which point we were ravenous and returned to the pizza/pasta place for dinner. We sat next to a bunch of ducks hanging out in the pond complex, and wondered about the source of the "roasted duck" offered throughout the menu. I had pesto and a glass of white wine. After eating, we females headed to the bathroom to "borrow" some toilet paper for the house, which had run out the day before and was becoming quite a problem. I had to waddle out of the restaurant with a big roll of it hidden under my skirt…why am I always the one that ends up doing that kind of thing?!

Back at the house, we played a girls-only game of beer pong, basically just so that Rob and Steve couldn’t. It was me and Diane against Lauren and Diana, and they won, but they didn’t feel like playing again, so Diane and I reluctantly agreed to play the guys. Beer pong is soooo boring and we hoped they’d beat us quickly, but instead we basically ended up kicking their asses. This was just not a good day for their manhood! Guys, if you’re reading this, I am just. kidding.

When the game finally ended, we went for a swim in the hotel pool, and then in the ocean, and then again in the pool. I got into bed that night and it seemed SO late, but I looked at the clock and it was only 0200. I slept like a log.

Day 3: Wednesday, March 1

Lauren and I rolled out of bed at noon, as did Steve. Rob, Diane, and Diana had gone back to the ship for a SAS trip at 0700, so that left just the 3 of us. We spent the afternoon at the beach, mostly just hanging out in the water and talking, although we did do one last ride on the inner tubes. I fell off when my tube flipped, and water gushed up my nose. After that Lauren and I held onto each other’s handles, so as to form one great super-tube and avoid any further wipe-outs.

We had a shuttle scheduled to pick us up at the house at 1700, so we headed back around 1600, but the guy had already arrived when we got there. We had to rush and pack, then relaxed on the drive back to the ship. The sugarcane fields against a backdrop of distant mountains were breathtaking. I wanted to nap, but couldn’t stop looking out the window.

Back on the ship, I started unpacking while Lauren called the boyfriend and Steve shaved. Then, we got in a water taxi right outside the boat and went across the harbor to the waterfront. There were a ton of SASers congregated at outdoor tables, and we joined Erica, Kerri, Rob, Diane, Diana, and Jeanenne. I had some pasta from the "food court" and a piece of "Indian pizza" (that was NOT anything like pizza) from a stand. On-ship time was 2100, but to avoid a long line (and subsequent dock time in India) we headed back around 2000. The line was nonexistent, and for some reason, one never really formed…I went up to the 7th deck at 2100 and was disappointed to spot no last-minute runners. Oh well, there’s five ports to go, and therefore five more opportunities to witness this classic SAS sight.

Lauren passed out about an hour after returning to the ship, and I made some frustrating attempts to call Mom and Dad, since the calling card that I’d bought in Mauritius had failed to work. For some reason, the internet was ridiculously slow (as it’s remained for the past several days), and I was unable to connect to Skype. I had to settle for sending Mom an email confirming that I was still alive, and even that took forever.

As I got into bed around midnight, Lauren woke up, and we decided to watch a movie. We propped her laptop on a chair between our beds, put on Not Another Teen Movie, and I literally fell asleep laughing.

Merry Mauritius Eve

2006-02-26T23:40:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow we’re in Mauritius and I still haven’t written up South Africa!! I have good excuses though—today I had both a Global Studies exam AND a Health Psych exam. I pulled a near-all-nighter last night, had my psych exam at 0800, G.S. at 0920 (I got a 45/50!), writing class at 1045, and then slept from 1200 till 1700. Lauren and I went to dinner with Erin at 1730 (L. had slept from 1000-1700!), and since then I’ve been hanging out with combinations of Lauren, Erin, Diane, Diana, Erika, Jeanneane, Steve, and Rob, in locations such as the pool deck, the pre-port meeting, my room, and Erin's room. Now it’s 2300 and I think people are heading to bed before too long, but I’m worried I’ll be up all night since I slept all day. I’ve got to borrow some DVDs from Steve to keep me entertained. We’ve all got a convenient little DVD trading system going on, and I think I’m finally going to be able to check some movies off my "must-see" list…the ones they play on the TV don’t help out with that too much, due to the fact that half the time, they forget to play the sound. But yeah, Steve borrowed Lethal Weapon 4 from me the other day, which came for free with our DVD player, and no one in my family has ever bothered to watch. He swears it's good, but poor Diane had to suffer through 20 minutes of explosions and guns, and then she fell asleep. I think I'll watch it only if I'm really desperate.

I am so excited to be in Mauritius; it’s like our Spring Break. This past week at sea has sucked. It was like actual school! Everyone had so much work to do; it was quite sobering (hah no pun intended). The "traffic light" party wasn’t such a hit due to the fact that they took away pub night for it. I mean, horrors! Apparently we all had a bit too much fun at 80s night or something??? I dunno, I had fun at the stoplight party, but lots of people boycotted it. We danced out on the pool deck for probably 2 hours straight, and it was SO unbearably hot, but a good time. No more theme parties if they can’t coincide with pub nights, though—we’re college students, and we have our priorities!

I probably should have knocked on wood before raving about the food, because these past two days it’s been so weird and bad. Thank god for PB&J (toasted, open-face). They served us something called "mullet" the other day that looked like hooves, and the soup was the same at dinner as it was at lunch, but with a different name. Even the pancakes yesterday tasted like they were missing a key ingredient. Dinner was pretty good tonight, though, so maybe things are back to normal now…I had pasta salad, rice, tomatoes, and pineapple icecream. And of course, PB&J.

Some good news is that my strategy of signing up for every Sale 2 service visit worked, and I got 3 for Vietnam! I’m thinking this may be overkill though, so I might sell one. We’ll see. I also got a home visit for our last day in China, and how random is this: the activity that I do with them is to visit a "German heritage" section of Qindao, whatever that means. I don’t see why I can’t just do Chinese things with them, but whatev. I wasn’t able to get an overnight Japanese homestay, and this is the next best thing. I’m signed up for a few other inexpensive day trips with SAS, of which I’ll post descriptions later.

Two days ago Madagascar was visible on the port side of the ship, how cool is that?? You could only see it with binoculars, and I didn't feel like making the effort to look, but we were close and that's neat enough for me. :)

A little about a lot

2006-02-23T20:30:00.000-05:00

Before you eagerly scoot to the edge of your seats, let me say that this is not my South Africa post—yet! I need a big chunk of time to work on that, and I have only 25 minutes before the Enlightenment Club meeting. What better way to kill time than to update my blog, right?? I really want/need to write emails to Mom, Dad, Kristin, Erin, and Dawn, but this will have to suffice for now-- I feel like writing one blog rather than one email allows me to kind of (in a way?) kill two (or five) birds with one stone (or at least render them unconscious).

I don’t think I’ve mentioned the enlightenment club yet. It was created by a student on board named Rex (got to give credit where it’s due), and it consists of people that are interested in discussing topics such as life, death, love, philosophy, and religion. I’m normally unable to muster enthusiasm for any kind of organized group or activity, but I’m actually excited about this one. I wasn’t counting down the minutes during the first meeting like I usually end up doing when I try to "get involved," and I’m even returning for a second time. The people in the group seem unusually (intimidatingly?) intelligent, and most importantly, they all share a love of knowledge and a drive to better their minds. My fear is that it will turn into a two-hour display of pretension and one-upping, but so far so good. I plan on keeping mostly silent-- my interest lies in hearing what other people have to say, since for some reason, there’s few people in my life that I actually talk to about such things.

Today consisted of me frantically writing my Modern Britain paper, turning it in at the last minute of class, and then sleeping until about an hour ago. Last night I was so unmotivated to do work that I didn’t start until 0100 or so. I went up to the pool deck for icecream around 2100, told myself I’d get to work when I finished, and then I found myself talking to Erin on the back of the 6th deck until 0030. I love this girl, but it’s so weird to write about her since I feel like I’m talking about my best friend Erin back home. Anyway, I grabbed a couch in the piano lounge and was up until 0500 teaching myself Modern British History, aka reading the first 100 pages of Modern Britain: Hope and Glory. Those were some complicated times (Unionists? Tories? Asquith? Huh?), but the reading was less dull than I’d expected it to be. I went to bed at about 0530, which WOULD have been 0430 if we hadn’t had to set our clocks back AGAIN last night, and I set my alarm for 0730 so that I could wake up, eat breakfast, and then write my paper before class at 1415. Unfortunately, I have learned something troubling about myself over the past week: if I haven’t gotten enough sleep, I can and will reach over and turn off my alarm without ever waking up. Even at top volume! Luckily I woke up on my own at about 0900, but I missed breakfast (see, good thing I stole those Fruit Loops). I went to lunch at 1230, and spent the remainder of the time before and after (until 1530) taking notes from the book and writing my paper. I am pretty happy with the end result, but I have no idea what kind of a grader Prof Carlton is, so we’ll see. If anyone is interested in reading five pages on the "strange death of Liberal England," just let me know!! Mom, Dad, little-sis Lauren, I know you can’t wait.

In a few hours I’m going to pub night, just because I feel like I deserve it. I only bought two beer tickets, though—still got a 2-pager due tomorrow at 1045. Tomorrow night there’s a "Red-Light Green-Light" dance, which means that you wear green if you’re single and red if you’re in a relationship. Or, as The Voice put so eloquently during the noon report, "Wear yellow if you have grown less committal with the passing of each time zone." I will obviously be wearing green, but with yellow accents so I don’t seem too available. ;)

Time to go; beginning of South Africa tomorrow?? I may have to do some of my writing on the beaches of Mauritius!

Hello, post-Africa

2006-02-22T15:10:00.000-05:00

This is a quick post just to say that I’m alive and well, and my week in South Africa was incredible. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to write about my experiences for at least a few more days, because I am completely swamped with work here on the ship. I have a 5-page paper due tomorrow in Modern Britain, a 2-pager due the following day in Travel Writing, and then on Sunday I have exams in both Global Studies AND Health Psych. Needless to say for those who know me, I haven’t yet started on any of the above. I hate weeks like this!! Mom, I know what you’re thinking, but there’s no use emailing me about it: I am going to be a procrastinator for life. As long as I get A’s, it doesn’t matter though, right?? I actually work best under pressure, I think, although I’m afraid that I may be getting worse grades this semester than I ever have in my life. I may be in a hole already too deep to dig myself out of. I’m talking no worse than straight B’s, which I would be fine with, because in order to get straight A’s I’d have no choice but to either miss out on things, or get a lot less sleep. But GOD, I’m dreading this paper tonight…I hate history, and I have no idea what I’m going to write. It doesn’t help that there’s a lifeboat drill scheduled for 1700, and then the Field Office sale for Myanmar, Vietnam, Hong Kong, China, and Japan is due at 1800. There are just not enough hours in the day. And noooo, I did not sleep until noon today; I had Health Psych at 0800. I even woke up with time for breakfast (or as the South Africans say, “brekkie”)—today I had French toast, hash browns, 2 raisin biscuits, and a glass of orange juice. I’d been hoping for pancakes or omelets, but whatev. I also “stole” two boxes of Fruit Loops for later…with quotation marks because the rule about not removing food from the dining room is in practice more of a SAS-suggestion than a SAS-mandate. I’ve even seen professors walking out with supplies of fruit and whatnot.

Since I’m on the subject of food, I’m happy to report that I really like it. There’s a good selection to choose from, and there’s always at least two or three dishes that I want to eat. I actually like it better than food at home. NOT because my mom isn’t an excellent cook, because she is—it’s just that I am rather picky and I don’t like lots of the meals that the rest of the fam does. For instance, at every lunch and dinner, there is guaranteed to be an appetizing potato dish, makings for PB&J, and a salad bar (although sometimes they oddly don’t put out lettuce, and it also gets a bit slimy as we near ports). I also like the fish that SAS makes, and I eat at least one serving almost every day. It corresponds to the port that we’re in—like, in South Africa, I had a fish called ‘hake’ at a restaurant, and now the past few nights it’s been served on the ship.

This is turning out to be a longer post than I’d expected (procrastination of homework, perhaps??), but there’s one more thing I should report: I had my first experience with the SAS hospital! Yesterday I woke up with a ringing noise in my right ear, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t “un-pop” it. It didn’t hurt, but it was driving me crazy and getting worse throughout the day. Finally 1700 rolled around (the p.m. hospital hours for students are 1700-1800), so I went down to the clinic and had my ears looked at by the nurse. She said that my eardrum was extremely inflamed and that I have an ear infection, and she gave me a week’s worth of amoxicillin (3x a day) and a Sudafed to take immediately. I’ve never had an ear infection before, so the diagnosis surprised me, but the medicine seems to be working. I must say that I was quite impressed by the hospital facility—the staff was very friendly, knowledgeable, and efficient, especially considering that in the 20 minutes I was there, about 15 other students came through.

Because of my ear, I didn’t go to any classes yesterday, but I DID completely clean up the room, which had accumulated a huge mass of stuff over the course of the past week. It took me about 3 hours, and was truly an accomplishment-- clothes and bags and papers and all kinds of random crap had filled up the main portion of the room and were actually beginning to overflow into the closet area. It hadn’t helped that the night before, six people had been crammed in the room, which has somehow become the designated hang-out area. But it’s completely clean and even newly-organized now, ready for Kenton to come in and work his magic (yesterday I told him he’d better just stay out of there until I at least cleared some walking room).

Okay, now it’s 1500 and I have got to figure out what trips I want to sign up for in Asia. I think I’m going to sign up for every single service visit, and if I get ones that I can’t attend, then I’ll sell them. I don’t want to risk being shafted again. I will hopefully have time to start my South Africa blog tomorrow. Thanks so much for your comments and emails, and I hope all are well back home!

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ANNOUNCEMENT: Dan's pictures from Puerto Rico and Brazil are up on webshots!! I'm scattered throughout, mostly in Brazil. I'll try to post my own at an internet cafe in an upcoming country, but if not then, definitely once I get home in April. http://community.webshots.com/user/taubm001

Across the South Atlantic

2006-02-13T22:11:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow we arrive in South Africa, and I am SO excited!! More so than I was for both Puerto Rico and Brazil. When we were approaching Puerto Rico, I was still thrilled by the novelty of the ship, and I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the port; as for Brazil, I was excited but also quite anxious about traveling independently for the first time. Now, I’ve been there, done that, and I can’t wait to do it again—in AFRICA! It boggles my mind that the water outside the window "belongs" to the African continent, and I have to keep reminding myself of this since it looks pretty much the same as the water around North and South America. But this part of the Atlantic contains icy Antarctic water, as well as a huge shark population—and it won’t be too much longer before we’re in pirate territory! I found out today that the Explorer will only be sailing at its maximum speed (28 knots) twice during the entire voyage: from South Africa to Mauritius, and on the way home from Japan (across the Pacific). The reason for the former is because we have to outrun the pirates—seriously! Everyone on board is kind of fascinated by the idea of pirates, and it’s a common topic of conversation. My plan of action in case of an attack is to hide under my bed until they’re taken care of. Kind of like how I always planned on hiding in a cabinet if my school had a shooting take place. I don’t know why I think about these things.

Besides the final leg of the voyage, these past 9 days between Brazil and South Africa make up the longest crossing. It’s gone by pretty quickly, though—maybe because of all the hours we lost?? Four or five of the past seven nights we’ve had to set our clocks back an hour, and we are now 7 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time. It hasn’t bothered me all that much, since I’m always tired when I wake up for my 8 a.m. class, and one hour less sleep isn’t too noticeable. There were several days that I slept until 12 or 1 though, and once until 3…but that was the day after 80’s night and we didn’t have any classes, so I didn’t feel like too much of a lazy bum.

80’s night was this past Friday, and a fun time was had by all. People went all-out with the 80’s gear, and I don’t even want to know why they had stuff such as Madonna gloves in their luggage, and scrunchies—ew! I wore fishnets, a ripped jean skirt, a bright blue tank top, a big half-ponytail on top of my head, blue eyeshadow, and big plastic earrings. My friends wore similar get-ups (Jeanneane looked the most 80’s), and we took some great pictures. Pub night was first, out by the pool from 9-11 as usual, and then the dance party was from 10-12 in the union. It was really funny seeing the global studies classroom transform into an 80’s club scene; dancing to "Like a Prayer" on the stage surrounded by my ridiculously-dressed peers was just classic. Unfortunately, the union was a little too much like a club in that it was PACKED-- I had to restrict the movement of my arms and legs while dancing, and I was covered with other peoples’ sweat just as much as my own. It was still so much fun though, and I really hope we have more "theme nights" in the future.

I don’t know why, but we didn’t have classes the following day—we did have a barbecue though! SAS is so nice to us; they randomly prepared a beautiful barbecue dinner out on the pool deck. It was such an unexpected treat. There were hamburgers, grilled fish, chicken, "suckling pig," ribs, various picnic foods, and a vast array of desserts, including icecream (which is an extra-special dessert here on SAS). I had 2 grilled fish sandwiches, lots of dessert, and I contemplated a piece of the suckling pig but decided against it. Partly because the pig’s head was displayed right there next to the dish, surrounded by a display of fancifully-carved vegetable flowers. There were also these incredible decorative platters of fruit pieces arranged to look like giant warrior heads. This may be a voyage and not a cruise, but on Saturday it was so much more of a cruise. :)

As the sun started to set and the BBQ drew to an end, everyone was hanging out by the pool and I discovered an easy way to make $20. I offered to jump in the water with my clothes on if they paid me ($4 per person), and they agreed, so I did. It was freezing and somewhat embarrassing, but I’m $20 richer so who’s laughing now! I have a feeling the only times I’ll ever be in that pool will be for strange reasons, such as to wash off fish guts or earn some fast cash.

So yeah, Friday and Saturday were some especially good times, and as for the rest of the week, it’s been life as usual. I went to most of my classes, wrote some more short papers (none worth posting here though), and attended a few pub nights. I also watched a couple of the movies playing on TV: Van Wilder, Good Will Hunting, some of The Constant Gardener, and this documentary on the breaching sharks of South Africa. Apparently there’s an island not far from Capetown that is heavily populated with seals (it’s called "Seal Island"), and this is the only place in the world where great white sharks actually breach from the water when hunting. In other words, they jump up out of the water like Free Willy and grab seals mid-air. I’ll probably be taking a ferry to Seal Island during my week in Capetown, so I’ll definitely be on the lookout for leaping great whites.

My game plan for the upcoming week is to basically do and see as much as I can for as little money as possible. I signed up for two service visits, a township visit, and a winery tour during the South Africa field program sale a few weeks ago, and I got NONE of them…who would have thought that there’d be such fierce competition to do volunteer work?? At first I was really disappointed, but now I’m glad, because I’d rather make my own plans than tag along in a group. I was, however, able to buy someone’s township visit, which would have been too dangerous to do without a guide. There’s also a chance that I’ll get to volunteer at a hospital for children with AIDS, something that a girl in my health class is looking into. I may be able to buy a ticket to tour Robben Island next Monday with SAS, but if not, it shouldn’t be difficult to do independently. Otherwise, with Lauren at my side and my photocopied Lonely Planet: South Africa secure in my bag, I’ll explore the country whilst the remainder of SASers go on safari. I’m not exaggerating—nearly everyone is doing a safari—but I don’t mind, because even before I knew that I couldn’t afford one, I didn’t have much interest in the idea. I know it would be neat, but there’s so much else I’d rather do in South Africa…and besides, I went on the safari ride in Disney’s Animal Kingdom. ;)

It’s coming time to bid farewell until after Africa, but first I’d like to thank everyone that has left comments on my blog: Kristin, Mom, little-sis Lauren, Jess, Bruce and Debby McIndoe, Caitlin, Erin, Mrs. Taubman, Jamie P., Ashley….you have no idea how excited I get when I see that I have a new comment, and although I don’t have enough internet time to respond, know that it’s appreciated. As for Dad, Linda, David, Susie, Lauren S., Vince, and all you others: I know you’re reading, so *come on* what are you waiting for??? No need to be shy!

Also, if there’s anyone reading that I don’t know, please say hi, either by leaving a comment or dropping me an email (Karen.e.och@gmail.com). I promise I won’t be weirded out; I’ll actually be honored that people are following along. During the Fall 2005 SAS voyage, Lauren and I were avid readers of this girl Amber’s blog, and even now we’ll still encounter something in port or on the ship and be like, "Oh, Amber mentioned that!" So please, anyone reading, say hello?

BRAZIL (part 3 of 3)

2006-02-12T16:55:00.000-05:00

Brazil Day 5- Back in Salvador

Lauren and I woke up at 1100 after Erin’s 5th phone call to our room—the girl has persistence. We grabbed lunch on the ship at 1130, and then headed to the street market to do some shopping. This is the same market that we visited on Day 1 (in the lower city right outside the elevator), but this time we focused our browsing inside a big warehouse-type building adjacent to the street. With three floors, dozens and dozens of overflowing stalls, and a working ATM, it was perfect for our last-minute shopping needs. It was also nice to be indoors—still very hot, but nothing compared to outside under the sun. I bought sooo much stuff for SO little money, thanks to my bartering skills. A few of my favorite finds:

- Brasil soccer jersey (R25)
- Several pairs of earrings (R4-R7)
- A wooden beaded necklace and bracelet (R10, R3)
- Brazilian flag (R14)—good for decorating house next year!
- Two woven, beachy bags (R15 for both)
- A hand-painted canvas of Pelourhino
- And lots more small, random stuff

I also got some postcards and stamps to send off, even though it requires 4 different stamps per card and costs 1 USD each—I hope you recipients appreciate!

We returned to the ship at 1430 and got ready for the soccer game, which the SAS buses were leaving for at 1530. I’d originally been on the waiting list, but luckily SAS was able to get some extra buses and accommodate everyone that wanted to go—more than half of the SASers! It only took about 15 minutes to get there, and we stayed for the entire game, which lasted until 2030 or so. I sat with Lauren, Diane, and Diana in a section filled mostly with SASers, and we had so much fun. My only complaint is that we were far away from the rowdy section filled with hardcore Brazilian soccer fans, so I feel like our experience of the game was a bit watered-down. But it’s okay; I had a great time, especially with Diane, and it was neat to get a taste for what Brazil’s soccer mania is all about. I’m not going to lie though, I spent most of the game socializing and running around and having fun rather than actually paying attention to the field…I do love soccer, but only when I’m playing it myself, I’ve realized. Although I’d rather watch a soccer game than a football or baseball game any day.

After returning to the ship, we all had a big hearty dinner (even though it was past dinnertime—the crew kept it warm for us), and then I fell asleep on my floor for an hour or so (because my bed was covered with all my purchases from earlier). The rest of the night was really boring and consisted of doing work, unpacking, and cleaning. Ugh. Brazil was awesome though, and it was sad to leave.

BRAZIL (part 2 of 3)

2006-02-12T14:21:00.000-05:00

I was so proud of myself for having putting out the Brazil entry in a timely manner, and now look what’s happened, I’ve reverted to my slacker ways for Days 4 and 5. Which in turn puts me behind for reporting the events of these past 6 days at sea. If only someone hadn’t stolen the external floppy disk drive from the computer lab, it would be sooo much easier for me to keep my blog up-to-date, because then I’d be able to write anywhere/time on the ship (haha like during Global Studies!). As I believe I mentioned earlier, my laptop has no USB drive (only floppy) and no internet capabilities, and the computers in the lab have no floppy drives (only USB). This makes my laptop pretty much useless without the lab’s external floppy drive, available to all on the basis of the honor system, which is obviously null and void. There are some thieving, dishonest SASers out there, which disheartens me. :(

Anyway, Brazil Day 4- Rio.

Check-out from the Plaza Copacabana was at 1200, which really sucked considering that most of us in room 305 got to bed around 0700. We were like zombies packing up the room, which we somehow left a COMPLETE disaster area. It was rather appalling, actually, but probably just because I’ve never stayed in a hotel with a bunch of other college kids before.

Dan paid the bill on his credit card, and after doing so he gave us some bad news: mini-bar fee of R75. OOPS! Ha-ha I guess that all really adds up, huh?? I ended up owing him R26, for two small containers of cashews-- 13 USD. Oh well, that’s more worthy than the R50 that the rest of them spent on bottled water and soda.

Our flight wasn’t until 2300, so we had the entire day to kill, but it wasn’t exactly a good situation since we had no access to showers, naps, etc. Thankfully, we were able to leave our luggage at the hotel all day, so we weren’t entirely handicapped. Following lunch at Rosey’s with Erin and Megan, the four of us hit up an internet café for R5 an hour— definitely much better than the rates on the ship! I was on for about an hour and a half, and it was so exciting to be able to talk to Erin and Vince back home. I’d been hoping that little-sis Lauren would be online, but sadly I had to settle for IMing her away message.

I hate to admit this, but for a good portion of the afternoon, we did nothing but hang out in the hotel lobby with all the other SASers (most of whom had flights at 1800, if they were on the SAS Rio trip). The lobby was cool, safe, social, and had couches for napping…can’t ask for much else I guess. I couldn’t stand wasting Rio time, though, so around 1730 Dan, Lauren, and I went down to the beach to hang out. It being early evening, I expected the beach to be near-empty, which would certainly be the case on the Delaware shore. However, I think that Saturdays (and probably Fridays too) are causes for celebration in Rio, because the beach was packed.

For about an hour I just walked along the water’s edge, appreciating everything that I was seeing and feeling and experiencing. I felt a sense of urgency to take in as much as possible, and never forget it. There were people everywhere—teenagers, old people, families, children, babies, friends, couples. Six-year-old girls were playing with their toddler siblings in the waves. Groups of women were laughing and chatting. Teenage boys were kicking around soccer balls. Kids were splashing and playing in the huge waves. Everyone, it seemed, was completely at ease, in the moment, and simply enjoying life. It was captivating to observe. I don’t know what made it so different from the atmosphere at Bethany Beach in DE, because people are certainly happy there, right? I mean of course they are; they’re on vacation…but you definitely do not feel anything like the vibe on the beach in Rio. Interestingly, the atmosphere seemed very family-oriented, which one would perhaps not expect when they think of Rio de Janeiro. I would definitely not recommend Rio as a fun family-vacation destination, but at the same time, I could see it bringing people together more so than a trip to Disneyland or wherever. There seemed to be such a strong sense of community on the beach that evening, like everyone was truly co-existing rather than existing side-by-side. I don’t think there are any rules governing the public beaches in Rio; I mean, there are no lifeguards, parents are unconcerned as their tiny kids play in the crashing waves, and the dress-code seems to be "as little as possible." But at the same time, this unconcerned vibe extends to the people, who are content to simply sit back and embrace the present.

The first thing an American will notice as s/he sets foot on this beach is that soccer is big even in the sand—dozens of games of handless "soccer volleyball" are going, and there’s even a full-size soccer field staked out. The second most immediate observation will likely be that Brazilian bathing suits really do live up to their rumored sizes. Women wear tiny little triangle bikinis, and the men wear either speedos, or the more modest style which resembles girls’ boy-cut underwear. What really struck me, though, is the fact that everyone dresses like this, regardless of age or body type or the presence of cellulite. And why wouldn’t they? It’s not strange or gross or overly revealing if everyone is dressed the same, and it’s the most practical option with the climate. I know that many SASers were grossed out by the sight of "banana hammocks" on old men, but I’d prefer the Brazilian way over the American, any day. I don’t see what’s better or more normal about the set-up in the U.S., in which only those with fabulous bodies can go to the beach without being self-conscious, or without being subject to the judgments of others. And then there’s the whole slew of catalogs marketed to women, selling expensive bathing suits that promise to "lengthen" and "conceal" and "flatten" their "problem areas." I say, screw it and move to Brazil! Go to the beach for a reminder that "problem areas" DON’T matter. I’m not saying that Brazilian women all have perfect body images (I mean, I saw more than a fair share of implants), but they certainly don’t let it affect them to the point that it influences their choice of swimwear.

After walking on the beach, Dan, Lauren, and I met up with Dan for one last dinner in Rio. We sat inside, had a great waiter, and enjoyed a really nice, relaxing meal. Like the restaurant the night before, this one also provided free h’or d’oevres. Except, instead of cheese, this time we got butter that looked just like cheese (which Rob found out the hard way). We once again marveled at the little bird eggs, and then for some reason (maybe because I ordered an omelet for my meal?) the waiter decided that I should eat one. Without saying a word, he came over, took the pepper shaker, and made a small pile on my plate; next he opened a packet of salt, which he mixed with the pepper. He then carefully de-shelled one of the eggs, picked up my fork, rolled the egg in the salt and pepper, and handed it back to me. Not much I could do at that point besides take a tentative bite. And, surprise, it tasted absolutely normal, and was actually preferable over the American variety, since I don’t like eggs all that much and prefer a small serving. Lauren ended up eating one too, after seeing that they weren’t to hen eggs, what goat milk is to cow milk (I do think it a shame, by the way, that analogies no longer appear on the SATs).

We left for the airport at 2015, since there’d been (false) rumors of traffic and it would have sucked to miss our flight. Our cabbie was a friendly guy with some grasp of English, and he asked us if we like Bush; Rob, Lauren, and I told him absolutely not, but that our friend Dan here is a different story…haha if he holds those views, then he’s got to represent! The driver then, curiously, asked if we like Michael Jackson. I didn’t really have any comment.

Although we do occasionally give Dan a good-natured hard time for being a Republican (and vice versa), I’d like to establish that I have a lot of respect for the guy, and political views are of surprisingly little importance on SAS. Maybe it’s because I’m from D.C. and am accustomed to different, or because by the very nature of SAS, American politics matter less to those on board. Either way, I’m finding it easy to simply leave politics out of the picture when it comes to friends, and I think that’s the way it should be.

At the airport, we had lots of time to kill, so I took a nap. The flight back to Salvador wasn’t even half full, and I was able to move to a window seat and stretch out. We made excellent timing, and I think I was back on the boat no later than 0100 or 0130. I didn’t get to bed for another two hours though, since Erin came by to chat for awhile (she’d been on an earlier flight). When I did finally hit the sheets, it felt so nice to be sleeping at home, in my own bed—yeah, I guess this ship really is starting to feel like home.

BRAZIL (part 1 of 3)

2006-02-07T00:35:00.000-05:00

I love this country.

There’s so much to tell.

The most sleep that we got on any night was 6 hours (and no naps!), so that’s a lot of hours in the day to cover, but I’ll do my best.

Day 1- Salvador (Wednesday)

After a late night spent packing, cleaning, attending the pre-port meeting, and getting organized for Brazil, I accidentally slept in and woke up around 1000—to the sound of The Voice calling for the 4th deck to go through immigration. It turned out okay though, because even though I was quite behind schedule, nobody was actually allowed off the ship until 1200 or so. Brazil matches the immigration policies that other countries have for it, so coming from the U.S., we were subjected to a rigorous ship inspection before being allowed to disembark. Technically we should have had mug shots and fingerprints taken as well, but I guess they decided to give us a break. I like this policy though…anytime the U.S. is given a taste of its own medicine, I’m usually a fan.

Salvador consists of two levels: the upper city (called Pelourhino) is where the historic district is located, and the lower city is the less attractive, more dangerous area where the Explorer was docked. In order to get from one part to the other, you have to pay 5 cents to take the huge public elevator. There are streets that zigzag up and down the cliff, but according to SAS, we’d get mugged and possibly killed if we attempted that route—so the elevator it was! Only during the day though, since at night the danger envelops even the elevator area. Nighttime = taxi time.

If you’re sensing some sarcasm here, you are correct. My annoyance comes from the fact that SAS LIES!! (this has become a voyage catch phrase). I know that there are reasons behind their actions, but regardless, they are still guilty of fear-mongering. The Brazil pre-port meeting left us all afraid to get off the boat, and I’m not exaggerating. We were told that in Salvador and especially Rio, many of us would get mugged and worse. If we were to carry a backpack, unsavory people would split open the bottom with a razor and steal our cameras. If we had a purse, they’d ride by on a motorcycle and grab it, dragging us along until it came off. Dogs and cats have rabies and will bite us and we’ll die, because there’s no cure. Wearing even inexpensive jewelry is asking to be mugged, and those Brazilian thieves, they have no problem cutting off a finger if a ring is stuck. Oh, and then there’s the “50-person street gangs” that go up and down the beach at night, preying on American tourists. Best to avoid the beach. Even the SASers in the Amazon were in serious danger—malaria and dengue fever have seized many-a-life. Speaking of which, there was a recent public warning issued in Rio concerning outbreaks of dengue fever—you’ll know you have it if you feel like all your bones are breaking, or if a beautiful white light in the sky starts beckoning you.

According to SAS though, the most terrifying, insidious, threatening risk of all is traveler’s diarrhea (DUN DUN DUN…). The nurse (we call her Diarrhea Lady) got somewhat into this topic before Puerto Rico, but at the Brazil pre-port, she went all-out, even wearing Pepto-Bismol pink from head to toe. While she was talking about bug bites and all that stuff, her speech was pretty dull, but whenever it comes time to discuss diarrhea, she gets so enthused, like all pumped up. I was watching the meeting on TV from a satellite room, and everyone was made a little uncomfortable by her energy over the prospect of diarrhea-ing. There was also this one speaker who had the most ridiculous, unnatural laugh EVER, and he kept doing it, and we were all in dumbfounded hysterics. Pre-port meetings can be quite entertaining.

Anyway, I’ve gotten a bit off-topic. Back to Brazil Day 1, in Salvador.

Erin, Erica, Lauren, and I got off the ship and headed to the elevator (the travel guide gave everyone a 5-cent piece as we came off the gangway). Walking down the street of the “dangerous” part of the city, lots of SASers were noticeably nervous—clutching their purses, standing way to the side if a Brazilian walked by, taking pictures covertly, etc. Lots of students followed SAS’s recommendation and didn’t even bring their camera with them….and I hate to admit it, but I was one of those people. If my camera got stolen, the expense of a new one would really set me back budget-wise, so I didn’t want to risk it. Luckily, Lauren brought hers, because there were some great photo-ops that it would have been a shame to miss out on.

Erin and Erica both had SAS trips at 1330, so we didn’t have much time with them. We ran into Jeanneane, Diane, and Steve, though, who we hung out with for the rest of the day. By chance we found our way to the older part of the city, where we immediately stopped in at a small, classy coffee/cigar café in search of bottled water and lunch. It was here that we had our first SAS language-barrier experience. The menu was incomprehensible, the waiter spoke absolutely no English, and there was frustration on both sides. In the end, all of us ended up just getting water (which was carbonated), and Steve ordered a random sandwich off the lunch list, which turned out to be good, but comically tiny—he ate it in about 4 bites.

We spent the next several hours exploring Pelourhino in the 95-degree heat. It’s a very cute area with cobblestone streets, colorful storefronts, two impressive cathedrals, a bustling town square, and an active local population. The stores were all pretty much the same, but we had fun looking around. I was able to get understandable directions to an ATM, where I took out 70 reals (about $33 USD), and I bought a calling card—28 minutes for 20 reals. Not bad! I also bought a zipper purse for 15 reals (so my camera would be harder to steal) and a pretty, flowy dress for 45 reals. I kind of feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder when I wear it, but hey, that’s the style.

After a while, we came upon a street composed of outdoor cafes, so we sat down for a second try at lunch. This time was more successful in that we had no trouble ordering beers (Brahmas), which were surprisingly the size of wine bottles. It was a lot to drink, but we all set our minds to it, and we made it through. Jeanneane ordered “cheeses,” Steve and Diane got ravioli, and I ordered some kind of a dessert. I’m still not sure what it was. I’d really wanted icecream, but they didn’t have any, and the translations for the dessert section were incomprehensible (as was the waiter). I decided to just wing it and order one of the desserts, since you can’t really go wrong with dessert, right? WRONG. Turns out I chose the slimy-red-animal-organ dessert. It was actually some kind of fruit, but that’s exactly what it looked like. And something had been done to it to make it very grainy and strange-tasting. An image of Diarrhea Lady flashed across my mind, and I decided not to eat any more. The ravioli was good, though.

Around 1700, we left the café and took the elevator back down to the lower city. There was a big street market on our way back to the ship, so we spent some time browsing the many stalls stocked with handmade jewelry, clothes, and souvenirs. I bought a wooden beaded necklace, two pairs of earrings, and a straw hat (which everyone makes fun of me for because it looks like an Asian rice-picker’s hat, but I don’t care, I LIKE IT). If I recall correctly, I spent R7, R5, R6, and R13, respectively (R = reals; divide by ~2 for USD). By negotiating prices, I saved about R15! I’ve gotten pretty good at this over the past few days.

Back on board, we hurriedly showered, got dressed, and ate dinner. I wore my new dress and earrings, and for dinner I had 2 open-faced PB&J sandwiches, toasted—possibly my new favorite food. At 2000 or so, Erin, Erica, Lauren, Jeanneane, Diane, Diana, Steve, Rob, and I got in a taxi-van and went back up to Pelourhino. We spent an annoying amount of time searching for bars, which don’t seem to exist in Salvador. The closest thing we could find was an open-air club, but still partially brainwashed from the SAS fear-mongering, we deemed it too crazy and dangerous to enter. Finally, we gave up and went back to the place where we ate lunch. We each ordered one of the huge Brahmas, but they only brought out about 4, along with 9 cups, and expected us to share, with a new bottle brought out whenever one was empty. This made it a bit tricky to calculate the bill, but we managed. It was a warm, clear evening, and it was nice to just sit out on the street and listen to the singer across the street as we drank and talked. There was a man at a table across the street who’d been there, drunk, in the afternoon, and by this point he was even more intoxicated. He was a happy drunk, though, so it was funny.

Since most of us had flights to either Rio or the Amazon in just a few hours, we returned to the ship at about 2400. Erin, Lauren, Rob and I shared a cab, and the cabbie blasted American 80’s music as he sped down the curvy cliff roads. We pulled up to the dock site dancing and singing, cabbie included—so much fun.

Day 2- Rio de Janeiro (Thursday)

The plan was to leave for the airport at 0200 in order to make our flight at 0400. For 2 hours, we enjoyed merriment in the room, and then we disembarked, bags in hand-- 4 intrepid young travelers ready to venture out on our own into the world. Then the strap on my bag broke. This was a MAJOR pain in the ass over the next few days. Mom and Dad: sometime during South Africa, a charge will be placed on your credit card for a new piece of luggage. This is a very necessary purchase, and I hope it will not be added to my tab, considering that I’ve had this previous bag since second grade and it’s definitely time for a new one (although it’s served me well—thanks Aunt Lynn and Uncle Wib!).

We got a taxi, agreed on a price of R45, and sped off to the airport. “Sped” is actually to put it lightly—for 45 minutes, I had to accept that my life was entirely in the hands of this cab driver. He rarely stopped at red lights, thought the highway was a racetrack, and had a bad habit of ignoring the road in favor of talking to Rob (in Spanish). Fortunately, there were few cars out, and I was so tired that I was only mildly interested in what was going on around me.

We got to the airport in one piece, spent some time comparing plans with a few other indy SASers, and then got food at “Bob’s.” Sitting in the food court, a group of young Brazilians at a nearby table were definitely laughing at us, so we laughed back. Rob and Dan insist they were laughing at my hat (I had to wear it so it wouldn’t get crushed in my bag), but my theory is that they were laughing at the funny-looking boys me and Lauren were with. ;)

We finished eating and were about to go to the gate when a cabbie (not ours) runs up to us, holds up a passport, and asks if we recognize the girl in photo. It was one of the other indy SASers that we’d just been talking to, whom shall remain unnamed, and I will refer to only by the initial A. We ran all over the airport looking for A., cabbie in tow. He was demanding that we pay him R30 for the passport, which was definitely not about to happen, considering that we don’t even know the girl. Finally we find her (turns out they were already at the gate), and her drunken hysterics turned to pure joy when she saw what we’d found. Not joy enough that she acted graciously toward the cabbie, though—first she wouldn’t pay him, and then she finally gave him R20 even though it was obvious that she had plenty more. True, the guy was acting like a jerk, but he took the time to come back to the airport, and he was only asking for 15 USD when he could have sold it for hundreds more. On our way back to the gate I reamed A. out for this, but it’s useless trying to talk sense into a drunk person (and a sloppy drunk at that), so I ended up just comforting her. Oh well.

The flight left on time, and no later than 0600 we were in Rio. I was slightly panicky before take-off, but Lauren talked to me and I was very tired, so it wasn’t too bad. The lights of Salvador were a beautiful sight, and once we got up high, it was so neat to be looking down at the outline of the South American coast. I was able to sleep on and off, but mostly off.

Since we didn’t check any luggage, it was a smooth, quick transition from airplane to taxi once we landed. I fell asleep on the way to our hotel, but at one point Dan woke me up and pointed out the window—high on a distant mountaintop, visible in the early-morning light, you could see the statue of Christ the Redeemer.

We arrived in the rain at the Plaza Copacabana, and check-in was mercifully easy—our room hadn’t been occupied the night before, so we could go right up, and we’d even been upgraded to a suite. Lauren and Rob hung out in the lobby while Dan and I checked in, and then we slipped them a keycard as we followed the bagmen up to #305. This is how you go about paying for two people when there are actually four.

An unexpected setback was that the room contained two twin beds. What kind of a hotel has twin beds?! This didn’t matter for the boys, since they’d been planning on switching off, with one sleeping on the floor and one in the bed. Apparently real men don’t share a bed; I mean how gay would it be if their limbs were to touch in the night??? Me and Lauren, on the other hand, now had to share a twin bed instead of a double…but laying down for a nap, we found that it wasn’t cramped or uncomfortable. Yay, not a crisis after all!

The four of us passed out at 0800 (almost as soon as we entered the room) and slept blissfully until 1530, when we awoke with renewed energy and hearty appetites. The rain had stopped and it was nice out besides some clouds, so we walked down the street in search of sustenance. Two blocks down was the beach, and we stopped at the Taberna Atlantica, one of several small restaurants (all of which we’d end up eating at) that lined the street parallel to the shore. Lunch hit the spot perfectly; Lauren and I shared a pizza margherita. Everyone ordered a drink, and when I went to order mine, the waiter motioned that it would make me fall asleep and opened my menu to the non-alcoholic “jucos” (juice) page. It was kind of funny, but I’m wondering why I’m the only one that he recommended order juice! I ended up getting a martini. :)

After lunch, we crossed the street and hung out on the beach for an hour or so. We didn’t swim, just lounged around in our bathing suits and admired the fantastic scenery—steep, rolling green mountains juxtaposed with beach and sea. We watched as a Brazilian man stood at the shore, slowly tossing individual lilies and fake roses into the waves. I guessed that each flower was in memory of a loved one, but there was no way to know for sure. Eventually he left, and the flowers washed up onto the beach. Before returning to the hotel at dusk, I threw one of the roses back into the sea.

Back at the Copacabana, we made contact with Erin, who’d arrived with the SAS trip (and was staying at the same hotel). They’d arrived in the morning but had gotten straight to sightseeing (they toured a sugar factory??), and for their free time in the afternoon they were all so exhausted that they used it to nap. This was pretty much the case the day after as well, and is one of the many reasons I’m so glad I traveled indy. Getting to bed at 0500 each night, it makes so much more sense to sleep in until 1000 or 1100 and then sightsee all day, rather than get up at 0800, tour around half-asleep for a few hours, and then have to spend free time napping. I mean, I guess you could technically go to bed earlier, but we’re college students so that method doesn’t really apply.

Anyway, we agreed to meet up with Erin after showering and whatnot. Lauren and I put on skirts and prettied ourselves up, and before long Erin came down with her hotel roommate, Megan, who we’d never met before but turned out to be so fun and nice. The 6 of us pregamed with some stuff that we’d picked up at a grocery store on the beach, and then we went down to the lobby and met up with a bunch of other people on the SAS trip. We all went barhopping, and ended up taking over the upper level of a bar/restaurant; lots of people ordered food, everyone ordered drinks, and it was a great time. I had capirinhas, and stole a few bites of Lauren and Erin’s pizza.

I don’t know the exact timing, but we went back to the hotel for half an hour or so, and then all loaded into cabs and re-joined forces in Ipanema. We tried to get into a club, but the guys were wearing shorts so we were denied entry; instead we hung out at the bar next door. I started talking to three gorgeous Brazilian girls and almost went to the club with them, but decided it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave the SASers. It was fun talking to them, though. Although I obviously speak no Portuguese, they weren’t bad at English, and I think that in addition to mathematics, girl talk is a universal language.

It was late when we got back to the hotel, and it was another 2 hours or so before Lauren, Rob, Dan and I finally went to bed. I set my alarm for 0900 so that we’d have plenty of time to visit Jesus the next day.

Day 3- Rio (Friday)

After many cycles of the sleep button, we got up bright and early at 1100. I consider any time before noon a success, so go us!

The four of us had another excellent lunch at Rosey’s Pub, one of the beachside restaurants, and then we hopped in a taxi and set out to see Christ the Redeemer. 30 or 40 minutes later, we pull up to a brightly-decorated “train station” at the base of Jesus’s mountain. The taxi was super-cheap (only ~ R15), but the train up the mountain cost R30 each. It turned out to be well worth it, though.

The steep ride up the mountain and through the rainforest took maybe half an hour, and it was HOT. At last we got to the station at the top, and from there we had to go up several flights of stairs before reaching the base of the statue. I cannot even describe the view. I’ve never seen anything like it, besides out the airplane window. You could see Rio in its entirety, from all angles…the beaches, the intermittent mountains, the sports arenas, the suburbs, the slums, the different urban areas, the rooftop pools, the ocean…everything. Rio is a HUGE city, and the landscape is like none other. I took dozens and dozens of pictures.

Christ the Redeemer was also magnificent. Obviously, it’s an enormous statue if it can be seen from all over the city, and to stand at its base is an overwhelming experience. I am not what you’d call religious, nor am I overly fond of Christianity, but I love this statue. It is so simple yet great, and I like the benevolence of its outstretched, accepting arms. It’s like he is a guardian of the miniature city far below.

After taking the train back down the mountain and a cab to the hotel, we quickly freshened up and then went out to do some shopping. Following the instructions given at the front desk, we crossed the street, got on a bus, and got off 5 minutes later at the first stop after the mountain tunnel. We’d been expecting to find a line of touristy shops or some kind of a marketplace, but instead we were in front of a huge mall—even better! Lauren and I immediately split off from the guys, agreeing to meet in one hour (at 1800). This ended up being too little time for all of us, and we didn’t leave the mall until 1900.

The mall had 5 stories, and Lauren and I weren’t able to adequately explore even two of them. I bought a pair of very simple, gold, almost Roman-looking sandals (R69), which I hope Mom and Dad will pay for since I understandably needed some shoes that I could wear with skirts and dresses…I mean, I wouldn’t want to rely solely on my stilettos, because such high heels can be dangerous, right Mom? I also bought a blue dress (R70) and a green shirt (R13). Lauren and I were in awe of how gorgeous all the salesgirls and female shoppers were—Brazilians really are of superior beauty, especially the women, and they were all done up for shopping at the mall. Meanwhile, here are me and Lauren, wearing flip-flops, messy ponytails, scrubby clothes over bikinis, and hardly any make-up due to a day of constant sweating. We’d have blended right in at any American mall, but things are a bit more sophisticated in Brazil. Oh well, the salespeople were still so friendly; many would shake hands and ask our names, and they were extremely attentive. When I was trying on my dress in the dressing room, the girl who’d been helping me suddenly barged in, grabbed the sash, and started doing everything for me. It would have been weird in the States, but for some reason it didn’t bother me at all in Brazil. They are such unconcerned, relaxed, friendly people that it only seemed right.

Since we stayed at the mall longer than expected, we rushed through our showers and had little time to hang out and pregame. Coincidentally, the four of us had all bought pastel-colored outfits to wear that night, which resulted in some cute pictures. I was in my new baby-blue dress, Lauren in her new sea-green dress, Rob in a creamsicle-colored button-down shirt, and Dan in a light blue one. We were like the Bobbsey Twins on Easter.

Along with Erin and Megan, we headed towards the beach for a late dinner. I actually can’t remember what I had, but it was definitely good, as were my grape capirinha and vodka tonic. Before our food came, they brought out a basket of bread and a platter of cheese, salami, olives, eggplant spread, and eggs for the table. A curious combination, but so good—besides the olives, that is (my mom is the only person I know who likes olives). The eggs were a bit alarming, since they were the kind that belong in a cute little nest on a tree branch. Like the olives, these went untouched.

After dining we met up with some other SASers back at the Plaza, and then took several taxis to a dance club called the Sky Lounge. When we pulled up, there was a huge crowd out front, and even though the place was not at all overcrowded, only one person was being allowed in every few minutes. I waited in the crowd with some of my new favorite SAS girls for what seemed like an eternity, and we were just about to give up and go somewhere else when the bouncer let us in. It took Rob and Dan another 20 minutes or so to gain entrance, but I guess that’s what you get for being a guy.

The club was awesome; so worth the wait. Half was an open-air lounge setting, with big comfy couches, a bar, and plenty of space to mingle. There was a roof over the dance floor and another bar, and then in the back was the glass-walled VIP area, completely lined with couches and jutting out into thick garden foliage. The way drinks worked was that each person got a card upon entering, good for 4 drinks which the bartender marked off. When leaving the club, you had to turn in your card and pay $40; any additional drinks would cost extra (don’t worry parents, I only had to pay $40). If someone were to lose their card, they’d owe the club R300. Luckily, none of us lost our cards. Except Lauren. Thank GOD our friend Ashley had a debit card and was able to spot her the money; otherwise I really don’t think Lauren would have been allowed to leave anytime soon.

The coolest thing about the club was that we were the only Americans there, and were able to really interact with the Brazilians, all of whom were young and spoke at least some English. I mainly chatted with a girl in her mid-20s named Natalia, a 19-year-old guy named Pedro who may be going to Harvard, and another guy whose name I forget that was able to get me into the VIP area. My biggest surprise in Rio was how much I came to love Brazilians and their collective attitude towards life, all in less than three days.

I think it was around 0200 when I asked Natalia what time the club closes, and she told me 0600. This seemed late to me, and I said we’d probably leave much earlier; she replied that the Brazilians always stay until closing time. We Americans ended up dancing and partying until 0500, maybe even 0530…and I could have easily gone till the end. If even a little bit of the Brazilian joie de vivre rubbed off on me, I’ll consider Rio a surefire success.

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I have to go to bed now, but I’ll finish up tomorrow with Brazil Days 4 and 5. Stay tuned, they were some good ones!

These past few days...

2006-02-01T01:54:00.000-05:00

It’s the day before we arrive in Brazil, and I have a lot to write about. You’d think that on an enclosed ship dedicated to academics, a week at sea would yield little of interest, but I’ve actually not been bored yet.

Yesterday was Neptune Day, celebration of our crossing of the Equator. This meant no classes (good), and an 8:30 a.m. wake-up by a parade of whistle-tooting, drum-banging crew members dressed in tin foil (bad). Even though we’d gone to bed around 3 a.m. (or was it 4?) the night before, AND we had to set our clocks back another hour, it was surprisingly easy to get up. Lauren and I ran out to the hall when we heard the commotion, and everyone was out there in their PJs, taking pictures. We decided to go back to bed for another 30 minutes, but when the procession came by for a second time, we threw on our bathing suits and went up to the seventh deck. It was a gorgeous, hot, sunny day, and the activities had just begun when we got there—already the pool was crowded with fish-gut-covered students, kids, and adults. At first Lauren and I decided not to participate in the traditional equator-crossing rites, but I changed my mind 10 minutes later, cause really, you only live once. So to gain the favor of King Neptune, I subjected myself to being drenched with fish guts, then jumped in the pool, already packed with 30+ people. I waited in the yellowy-green, chunky water for my turn to climb up the ladder, where I was asked if I agreed to forever honor the ocean and its inhabitants. I agreed, and then had to kiss a dead fish, kiss the ring of Neptune (who was actually a prof in a toga and coconut bra), and with his trident he then granted me access to the Equator and the sea. Silly, yes, but so much fun! Really! Granted, it wasn’t real fish guts; it seemed more like orange, watery oatmeal…but it was still plenty gross.

I ran back to the room and rinsed off quickly, but didn’t bother combing my hair or changing my bathing suit or anything because I didn’t want to miss the shaving of the heads. There was a raffle to determine which five students would have their heads shaved by the captain, and I watched him do this one girl’s head—she was half-laughing, half-crying the whole time! Everyone was cheering and screaming for her; it was neat. I wish I had the guts to do something like that…actually, I do have the guts, I’m just too vain. I did consider it for a split second, but the last thing I need is one more spot to apply sunblock.

Once the head-shaving was complete, there was hair ALL over the seventh deck; it was so gross. At 11:30 we were eating lunch in the dining room, and stuck to the outside of one of the windows was a huge chunk of brown hair. Haha lovely, huh. The seventh deck was closed until noon for hair and fish-gut clean-up, and right after lunch we went back up there and spent the entire rest of the afternoon (until 5) laying out on lounge chairs by the pool (by "we" I’m referring to me, Lauren, Erica, Erin, and for some of the time, Jeanneane). I brought my Global Studies book to read, since exam #1 was the next day, but all I ended up doing with it was laying it across my face as I napped in the sun. I did read a good portion of Lauren’s Cosmo, though, once I moved into the shade. The clouds in the late-afternoon were captivating, and I took lots of pictures of them; we also saw dolphins around the boat, sent by King Neptune to aid us in our crossing of the equator. Haha that was my theory at least.

Me, Erin, Erica, and Lauren were the first ones to dinner at 5:30, and almost the last ones to leave at 7:30. The extreme stage of studying-procrastination had begun! We were all in goofy moods, and we spent the second half of dinner doing nothing but laughing, filling each other in on our boyfriend histories, and squeezing grapes to single out the crunchy ones from the soft ones. Because soft grapes are gross.

After dinner, the plan was to study until 9:30, and then watch The Life Aquatic on channel 3. Instead, Rob and Dan stopped by our room, and we ended up hanging out with them for 2 hours, and then turning on the TV. Dan left, Erin came over, we had no idea what was going on in the movie because everyone kept talking, so we went upstairs to get some snacks…then hung out on deck for awhile. Erin went off to her room to study, and me, Rob and Lauren went back to our room to do the same…but ended up spending another hour BSing and contemplating my map of the world. Then Rob left, and me and Lauren tried to study, but it was too boring and I was too tired, so I fell asleep. Oops. I did set my alarm for 7:30 to get some studying in, and got out of bed at 8:30…frantically read the material for an hour, and then took the test. The scores were posted this afternoon, and I got 37/50. Bad, but not as bad as most people did…that’s my only consolation. From now on I have GOT to go to class, pay attention, and study…I think not doing any of the above is why I bombed the test. :( I learned my lesson Mom and Dad, I promise!!!

After the test this morning, I went back to bed until history at 1415. My professor is so spirited and funny that I almost like the class…if only I didn’t have to worry about taking notes. Prof Carlton kind of resembles Santa Claus minus the beard, and he’s a great storyteller (with a great British accent)—definitely one of my favorites on the boat.

From history I went to the 5th deck dining room, where the kids have "school" until 0400 each day. A little girl named Karenna chose me to be one of her "big sisters," so I stopped by to introduce myself. She’s 7 years old, really cute, and very smart—borderline child genius? I don’t know what’s normal intelligence for 7-year-olds, so who knows. She’s pale, with blond hair, bangs, lots of freckles, and big blue eyes—just like me when I was little! Anyway, we hung out for a while just chatting, and then one of her other big sisters stopped by, so the 3 of played cards, along with an 11-year-old girl from Russia named Masha. This felt kind of like babysitting after a while, but that’s okay; Karenna apparently has a knack for poker and she’s going to teach me how to play. I’ve always wanted to learn how; now I actually can! And if I can’t comprehend the directions that a 7-year-old gives me, then I really just have no hope.

I guess I should explain the "spa adventure" that I mentioned in an earlier entry. Basically, what happened is this: Lauren and I were intrigued by the $15 "lash and brow tinting" offered at the spa, since we both have naturally blond eyelashes and eyebrows, and this SUCKS. So we made appointments (I was first), and I told the woman that I wanted my lashes to be black and my brows to be light brown. They only have one color of brown dye though, and it’s dark, so the woman said that she’d just leave it on for a shorter amount of time. The whole process took about 30 minutes, and she waxed my eyebrows as well—she was so shocked that I’d never done that before! I didn’t think it was necessary if the hairs were invisible, but whatev. Anyway, when she was all done and I looked in the mirror, I almost had a heart attack—Groucho Marx was staring back at me. My lashes looked great, the shape of my brows looked AMAZING, but my brows were way too dark. However, it turned out that I was the only one who even noticed—Rob, Dan, Erica, and Erin saw no difference whatsoever in my appearance. Does this mean I’ve always resembled Groucho Marx?? No, I think that most likely, nobody notices or cares about my eyebrows except me (and Lauren, she noticed!!), and that’s probably for the best, since I now cannot fathom how I went my whole life without professionally-shaped, colored arches. The brown has lightened a bit over the past few days, too, so I’m no longer startled by my appearance. Now, I think I’m likely going to continue with the brow-tinting until old age or death.

It’s almost 0200, so I’d better get to bed soon. We dock in Salvador at 0700!!! I feel like this is our first "real" port, and definitely my first indy travel experience. Me, Lauren, Rob, Dan, and a bunch of others have had flights to/from Rio booked for weeks, and just now we booked a room at the same hotel that the SAS trip is staying at. The SAS trip costs more than $800; traveling independently for the same amount of time is costing $330 for a round-trip flight and $50 each for the room. AND they have a 3-hour layover, but we don’t. Indy is so the way to go. Tomorrow we’ll be in Salvador all day/night, and our flight leaves at 4 a.m. on Thursday morning. We return at 11 p.m. Saturday night. Then on Sunday, we are probably going to go to a professional soccer game—how awesome will that be!! But, I promise, I won’t participate in a riot or brawl. After Brazil, I’ll try not to take as long to update as I did with Puerto Rico…but it wasn’t entirely my fault, because the internet has been down for the past few days due to poor satellite feeds around the equator.

Speaking of which, The Voice (over the loudspeaker) warned us not to flush the toilet right as we cross the equator, because the immediate switch from clockwise to counterclockwise "may cause a rift in the space-time continuum." I also liked it when he announced today that the birds flying around the ship were called ‘marked boobys’ (or something like that), and that if we want to be sure not to contract the avian flu virus, we must keep our hands off the boobys. And speaking of which, SAS is still waiting to hear from "the doctor" about whether or not we’ll all have to wear face masks in China. Oh, and the bear rumored to be living in a room on the 6th deck? We found out tonight during the mandatory pre-port meeting that he’s a polar bear named Ursa. Just fyi.

PUERTO RICO

2006-01-29T17:57:00.000-05:00

Puerto Rico was interesting not so much because of the country itself (I mean, it’s part of the United States), but because it gave me an idea of how Semester at Sea works while in a port country, something which had been a big question mark before. Now I no longer have to worry and wonder about things such as going through immigration, sending mail, making on-ship time, coming and going, traveling about independently, and participating in the SAS field programs. These are mostly just minor, common-sense know-how, but it’s good to have a bunch of “firsts” out of the way and have an idea of what to expect for future ports.

On Monday, January 23 we were up on deck by 8, just in time to see the pilot boat heading back to its dock. It was a nice morning, a bit cloudy, but the sun looked pretty shining through the clouds in the distance. I was somewhat surprised to have views on all sides of bland urban development, since in my mind I’d been picturing San Juan as a picturesque, colonial-looking village. Turns out that’s not even true for Old San Juan, which was a 10-minute cab ride from the port and resembles a European city.

Before going through immigration and disembarking, Puerto Rico’s Secretary of State came on board to give us a short speech. I tried to pay attention, and from what I remember he talked about the island’s history and how great SAS is, but I could be wrong. I did go up to him afterwards to introduce myself and shake his hand, and I got my picture taken with him. Maybe he’ll become internationally famous one day, and then I’ll frame it.

When we finally got off the boat around 10 (the 4th deck was the last through immigration in the faculty lounge), Lauren and I immediately hopped in a taxi (shared with a few other girls) and went to Old San Juan. We were almost the only SASers there, since we wasted no time back at the port. The most obvious thing to do was check out the fort up on the hill, Castillo de San Cristobal. We paid the $3 admission, went in, were pretty much the only ones there, took some good pictures from up on the fort walls, walked around a bit, got bored, saw some bored-looking SASers on a guided tour, and then left. This all took about 20 minutes. Lauren had been there before with her family, and she told me about how they were there forever because her parents had to read every single description at every single exhibit. Our parents really could be like, best friends! It was worth the $3 admission though, because we got to see some great views of San Juan and the ocean.

On our way out of the fort, we asked the woman working at the front desk for directions to a good beach, and she told us that we’d have to take a taxi or bus. She showed us the best beach areas on our map, and wrote down bus numbers since a taxi would be expensive. She was really helpful, and I’m going to get advice from locals whenever possible during my future travels.

At this point, we began running into other SASers, so we walked around a bit with some of the girls, checked out some shops, and then met up with Rob and his friend. We were all starving, but the only food places around were American fast-food joints, and I flat-out refused to eat my very first in-port meal at a Subway. So we asked a police officer, and he sent us to the Spanish equivalent of a McDonald’s. Oh well, we tried. After eating we went to catch the A5 bus to the beach, yet although so clearly marked on the map, it took us forever (and quite a bit of walking) to find the bus stop. This is because our directions weren’t to a bus stop, they were to a bus terminal (like one Greyhound would have), which was unexpected to say the least.

20 minutes (and 75 cents) later, we were on the bus, headed to the beaches of Isla Verde. The ride took forever, probably about 45 minutes, but I didn’t mind-- I can fall asleep anytime, anywhere, and that I did. I was sandwiched in between an old man and Rob’s friend Mack, and I had such a nice little nap.

After about a million stops, we reached our destination, a beach lined all up and down with apartment buildings and hotels. It was no Paradise Island (in the Bahamas), as there was a much more local, non-tourist-oriented feel, but that was fine with me. The over-the-top opulence, waste, and displays of wealth at the Atlantis had actually gotten really old really quickly for me. Anyway, the 4 of us were so excited to have successfully found our way to a beautiful, random location on our first port day of SAS. We immediately threw down our stuff (under the palms since I need shade), took some joyous pictures, bought a $12 bottle of sangria from a woman selling them out of a backpack, and ran into the ocean to swim and play.

The rest of the afternoon was a good time. It was fun calling people (from Lauren’s phone, since I lost mine in the Bahamas) and saying, “hey, I’m on the beach in Puerto Rico.” We ran into some other SASers at a little dive bar across the street, took lots of good pics, joked around with the bartender; basically just enjoyed feeling completely free and lighthearted.

We headed back to the ship around 5 or so. There, we showered and ate dinner. Lauren and I had the university welcome reception at 7:30, and we got on the same bus as our friends Erin and Erica (there were 4 buses going to 4 different universities, since no single campus could handle such a large number of people). We had very high expectations, since according to the Field Program Guide, this event came “highly recommended” by past SASers. As we soon came to realize, this is rather suspect, considering that we are the first SAS voyage to visit Puerto Rico. SAS lies!!!!!! Anyway, we went in with an open mind, but the whole thing was very forced, and overplanned—it wasn’t a casual meet-and-greet party atmosphere like I’d expected, but instead a succession of lackluster “activities.” I heard that people had fun at some of the other universities, though.

The 4 of us ended up sneaking out of the “party” after an hour or so. We went down to the road to get a cab, where we found 2 other girls who had the exact same idea as us, and had already called for transportation. The 6 of us shared a cab to Senor Frogs in Old San Juan, where a ton of SASers were hanging out. We stayed there till pretty late, having an awesome time engaging in safe, responsible behaviors. The music was great and we got in some good dancing, too. Lauren and I were ready to leave around 1:30, and we started walking back to the ship with another SASer (a male—we wouldn’t walk around at night alone). After a while, a cop pulled up to us and asked where we were going; when we told him, he said that we had more than a mile left to go, and he’d give us a ride. So our first port night of SAS, we pulled up to the boat in a police car! Everyone on the dock was like, “what’d you guys do?!?!” Good times.

Day 2 in Puerto Rico was my “Seven Seas Kayaking” field program, which Lauren did as well. We got to sleep in (it didn’t leave until 1), and then it was a 1.5 hour bus ride to the location—a beautiful beach on the edge of El Yunque rainforest. The water was very calm and shallow, protected from the ocean by a coral reef. Since it was the late afternoon (my favorite time of day), everything was sparkling and crisp and golden. Perfect.

The kayaks were 2-person, and it took 25 minutes to paddle out to an area of shore closer to the reef/ocean. This sounds like a short amount of time, but it was actually torturous near the end; me and Lauren had to keep resting. I’d have felt really wimpy if the guys hadn’t been just as exhausted as we were near the end. For about an hour, everyone waded in the water and explored the beach. Because of the reef, there were pieces of broken coral everywhere, and surprisingly, huge conch shells as well! Down the beach a bit, we met a local who had a bag of what looked like black guts. He took one out to show us-- it was the creature that lives in the conch shells! They have actual eyeballs that look like human ones, but mini. How weird is that. I also talked to a fisherman who was emptying out his net as I walked past, and a foot-long baby swordfish flew out and thrashed about towards me. I screamed because I thought it was a snake, and he laughed but then reassured me. It was my natural instinct to throw them all back in the water and save them, but of course I didn’t. I knelt down and touched one, and said half to myself, half to him, “it’s dying.” He replied, “everything dies eventually.” This is, of course, obvious, but I liked how the way he said it was so simple and accepting.

That night a bunch of us went to Old San Juan, bought some drinks from a store, and hung out in the cobblestone town square. There was a fun mix of locals and SASers, all congregated around small tables and benches and storefronts. Some friends had a hookah at their table, so we went over and did that. I’ve never really seen the point of hookahs before, but it’s still fun every once in a while. Lauren, Erin, Erica and I got super-hungry around 11, so after searching all the narrow streets for a restaurant still serving food, we finally settled at a Karaoke bar right near the town square. Chips and salsa, 3 orders of quesadillas, and cheese fries satisfied our appetites, and not too long later we went back to the ship. Before going to bed, we hung out on the 7th deck, Lauren talking to Scott on the phone and me talking to Brett (remember him from line, Mom and Dad?).

Our last day in Puerto Rico was pretty relaxed. We slept in (noon?), then went back to the beach on Isla Verde, but took a cab this time—with 5 people, it’s not too expensive. The water was kind of cold and full of seaweed, but I took a nice solo walk down the beach. We hit up some tacky souvenir shops for postcards, and stocked up on necessities at Walgreens. Late in the afternoon we returned to the boat to wash up, because we wanted to go into Old San Juan for our last dinner Puerto Rico. We found a very posh, very expensive restaurant, had a delectable meal, and lingered at the table until we had to leave to make on-ship time. I really like Erin and Erica and hope that we’ll all continue to hang out over the next 3 months.

In case my description of the restaurant raised some eyebrows back home, let me explain. It was initially kind of an awkward situation, because I am the only one who is paying her own way, and I would never even consider paying $25 for an entrée. I hate to make that an issue when it comes to group decisions, though, because it’s not fair when 3 people want to go somewhere, and 1 doesn’t. My friends are down-to-earth, generous people who would never mind adapting in such a situation, but I prefer not to make a big deal out of things. So instead, I got a $10 salad, had the waiter keep refilling the bread basket, and finished Lauren’s leftovers (she really should eat her veggies, but I’m not going to complain!). I didn’t order a drink, but that’s okay; I’ll make up for it in Rio (just kidding, Mom and Dad!). Despite my penny-pinching, I still spent more than I’d intended to in Puerto Rico (taxis are a rip-off!), but whatever, I could’ve done much worse.

I was out on dock at 11 pm when the ship pulled away, as were most people. The experience of leaving port is one that evokes a strong mix of feelings for me, namely satisfaction, appreciation, sadness, and introspection. I’ve only left two ports so far (Nassau, Bahamas and San Juan, Puerto Rico), and although I had similar emotions at both, they were for different reasons. The list of what is yet to come overwhelms me: Salvador, Brazil; Capetown, South Africa; Port Louis, Mauritius; Chennai, India; Yangon, Myanmar; Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam; Qindao, China; and Kobe, Japan.

Travel Writing paper #2

2006-01-28T20:53:00.000-05:00

Here's my second paper for Travel Writing. This time we had to give as good of a feel as possible for the 6th-deck dining room, in no more than 1.5 pages. We were also assigned to eavesdrop on the conversations of professors, students, and crew members, and then record in our journals. My prof even suggested that we purchase a mini tape recorder once we get home-- "a great tool," she called it! (Mom and Dad, I want the iPod recorder attachment for my birthday, just fyi). I haven't overheard anything interesting yet, unless you count the end of the noon dean's announcement: "Please be aware of what you flush-- we are two tampons away from a toilet catastrophe." I was eating lunch at the time, and everyone CRACKED up; that is now the phrase we use when something is in danger of going terribly wrong.

Anyway, here's my paper, and I AM working on Puerto Rico, it's just taking loner than expected. When recounting events, I can't help but feel the need to include every little detail, and it subsequently takes forever. I'm aiming for P.R. to be up by tomorrow night though, so do check in!

The Topaz Garden Lounge has a feel that is evocative of life back home, more so than any other room on this floating campus. There is something about dinnertime at college that remains the same, no matter what physical properties or location the dining room may have. Groups of students stream in and out, talking and laughing as they grab their trays and move down the food line. As they head to favorite areas or tables, they exchange greetings with others and contribute to the lively hustle-and-bustle of a popular campus eatery. Of course, there are also the loners, who eat by themselves and are somehow scanned over without notice as one surveys the room. This may be Semester on Sea, but it is a college dining room first and foremost, and the familiar social stratifications remain the same. More than any other detail of the room, the people stand out as its prime quality, for without people eating, it would not be a dining room, and without the active, noisy energy of social young adults, it would not be that of a college campus.

However, this is Semester at Sea, and therefore the Topaz Garden Lounge does have qualities that set it apart. The true nature of dinnertime here becomes apparent in the details. The hand sanitizer in the middle of the entrance, which was a curiosity a week ago, is now just another thing for students to avoid bumping into as they stagger around the pitching ship. The view out the windows is of endless blue-black sea, and yet nobody is looking out, or taking any notice of its mesmerizing beauty. Also of notice is that it’s only 5:30 pm—early by normal dinnertime standards—and yet people are arriving in droves, seemingly ravenous with hunger by the looks of the food that they pile onto their plates. Because of their accents, the warm, jovial voices of the dining room staff stand apart from the rest of the buzz, and every so often the small, high voice of an eight-year-old girl can be heard—“Oh yay, I love macaroni and cheese so much!”

It is noteworthy that the water has an aftertaste, the food looks better than it actually is, and the smell of peanut butter and jelly is overpowering near the back door. Yet the most noticeable aspect of the Topaz Garden dining room is the warm, healthy glow created by lots of happy and enthusiastic people in one place at once.

Look, I did my homework!

2006-01-27T15:19:00.000-05:00

Our first assignment in Travel Writing was to write a two-page paper on any aspect of shipboard life, and I'm posting mine as a blog entry because it's obviously pretty relevent. Please note that part of the assignment was to incorporate words and phrases from a list of ship/pirate slang, so that's why there's random dorky phrases throughout. I'll do a real post later, all about my adventures in Puerto Rico and the MV Explorer Spa/Salon!

Since the MV Explorer set sail on January 19, there has been much talk about the "shipboard community" and the sense of oneness that will develop over the course of Semester at Sea. Although we are only a short ways into the voyage, I have already gotten a feeling for the different groups of people on board, and can imagine how the community dynamics may evolve by the end.

From my observation, the population on board can be broken down into five distinct groups, all of which bring something different to the shipboard community. First, there are the approximately 675 students, a diverse group of people from all over the world (but mostly from the United States). The majority are between 19 and 22 years of age, and there are about two times more females than males.

Because this is essentially a floating campus (a sign amongst the student cabins reads "too cool for land school"), professors are another integral part of the community. Some are from the University of Pittsburgh, but most come from other colleges and universities, some international. What all of the professors seem to have in common is a background of experiences around the world, whether it be that they were born in South Africa (as my psychology professor was) or that they went on Semester at Sea during their own college years (as my writing teacher did). In addition to the top-drawer teachers, there are also other staffers on board, such as the deans, resident directors, and administrative workers.

Another important component of the shipboard population is the crew, not to be confused with the academic staff. The crew is mostly Philippino, and they fulfill a wide range of needs that would apply to normal vacation cruises as well as the Semester at Sea voyage. To name a few, there are the kitchen workers, the dining room staff, the cabin stewards, the spa staff, and the unseen engine room workers. There is the captain, who seems to hold an almost celebrity-type status on the ship, and also his staff of security, navigational, and other types of officials. So far, I have found the crew to be extremely friendly, and they all seem like such genuinely good people. My cabin steward, Kenton, is always there with a smile and a ‘hello,’ and the other day when the seas were especially rough, he knocked on our door and recommended that we remove our glass perfume bottles from the bathroom sink. I was impressed that not only did he remember specifics about our room out of the dozens that he cleans each day, but that he also made the effort to stop by and warn us. Such gestures are commonplace amongst the crew, who seem to work double tides for the simple reason that they take pride in their jobs. I was talking to Edgar, who works at the pool bar, and he told me that out of the several different cruise lines that he’s worked for, he enjoys his job aboard the MV Explorer most of all—apparently because his passenger interactions are with a 3-month academic community rather than vacationing tourists. I suspect that interacting with those on the books has the potential to teach us just as much as we’ll learn in our classes.

The final two groups on board are ones that I currently know little about; however, that should be changing within the next few weeks. There are the family members of professors, which includes both spouses and children, and also the "continuing education" passengers, who are senior citizens that see retirement as an opportunity for further learning and enrichment. All of the children are at least eight years old, and so they don’t fall behind in school, they are tutored by the wife of the Global Studies professor. I have signed up to be a "big sister" to one of the little girls, which will grant me access to this small but unique sub-community. I will also be joining a shipboard "family," in which I will be assigned one or two "grandparents" out of the continuing education group. I think it’s the cat’s whiskers that during my months at sea, I’ll be able to form relationships with members of both younger and older generations, as well as with the professors, crew members, and my fellow students. I truly believe that one of the most fulfilling and unforgettable aspects of Semester at Sea will be how the on-board community transforms from disparate to united over 100 incredible days.

On board!! Day #4 at Sea

2006-01-22T22:36:00.000-05:00

This will be my first entry since coming aboard the MV Explorer, and my GOD, do I have a lot to write! Not so much in terms of big stuff, because we haven't even reached Puerto Rico yet (that's tomorrow), and technically, things have been surprisingly slow-paced on the ship. But already, this experience is fascinating, and I am SO enthusiastic about it. It's so neat to finally be here on the ship, and the people and energy on board are amazing. Today is only our 3rd full day at sea, and I honestly feel like I could write 20+ pages, right now. But I won't, because there's a mandatory "logistical report" on Puerto Rico at 9:00, and as they stressed in the 5:00 dean's announcement, mandatory "is NOT in quotation marks."

Okay, so I'll start at the beginning. On Thursday morning, we arrived at the boarding center in Nassau to find a 3-hour line for Semester at Sea awaiting us. Apparently the x-ray machine was broken, so they had to manually search every piece of luggage. According to a staffer, we got there at the point that it was the longest line in the history of SAS. Awesome! Already making SAS history, and not even on board yet. The time ended up going by pretty quickly though, despite the sweltering heat, and it was fun being social and getting to know people in line. Coincidentally, me, Mom and Dad were right in front of Teresa from Pitt, who lived on my floor freshman year and was in nursing with my friends. I hadn't even known that she was going on the voyage. I also got to know the 5 girls in front of me, all without their parents present. Of course, since none of them (including Teresa) were with parents, Mom and Dad acted as surrogates for all.

When we finally got to the beginning of the line and handed over our passports, I parted with Mom and Dad, who would have to wait for all the students to get settled on board before being allowed on for parent visitation. They didn't even bother to check our luggage, and the 7 of us all waited for each other before stepping out of the warehouse-type building and onto the dock, right in front of the looming ship. As we ran up to the gangplank, our energy was incredible—it was a moment of pure excitement and glee shared by 7 near-strangers. I know I'm sounding corny right now, but I will never forget those few moments, and the feelings of first seeing the ship, and then stepping onto it. We were screaming and jumping up and down and it was such an adrenaline rush.

Not at all surprisingly, I was such an emotional mess when it was time to say goodbye to Mom and Dad on the ship. I knew that farewells were going to be hard, because although I've been apart from them for just as long when at school, this is very different. I'm going to be on the other side of the world, and with extremely limited means of communication. At first I couldn't help worrying about bad things happening to them while I'm gone, but that was strictly pre-voyage thinking. Now that I'm finally ON semester at sea, my homesickness is virtually non-existent, and I've stopped worrying about things beyond my control (for the most part).

Our first night at sea was totally different from what I'd expected. I was picturing a HUGE all-night party-- or at least party atmosphere, since SAS's scare tactics seemed to work, and nobody risked sneaking alcohol on board. Instead, we were forced to attend seemingly endless orientation-type meetings, and it got to the point where all anyone wanted to do was to just go to bed. Not only was everyone exhausted after the whole "semester in line" experience earlier, but all who took the meclizine that they handed out for seasickness was seriously out of it. I hadn’t been planning on taking any because I’ve been through 2 cruises and 2 summers of sailing camp without ever experiencing motion sickness, but this ship is WEIRD and it never stops rocking. I started to feel lightheaded and kind of ill around 6 or so, so I took a meclizine, and it made me completely loony. It didn’t even help with the motion sickness; I ended up feeling physically hungover and mentally drunk. Lauren and I tried to unpack and were just completely bouncing off the walls and unable to concentrate, so we went and watched the water behind the ship with Rob and Dan until midnight or so. By that point, almost the entire ship was deserted, everyone having gone straight to bed after all the mandatory crap finally ended. Kind of an anticlimactic first night at sea, but oh well, it was an experience in itself.

The ship is awesome. It's so shiny and clean and majestic. It's also really complicated; I am only now finally beginning to know my way around, and that's because I picked up a map at the "Purser's Office" (it's just the main front desk; I don't know why they call it that). The first deck is where the "hospital" is located (which interestingly includes a surgery and a morgue), and student rooms are on the second, third, and fourth decks (I'm room 4079 on the 4th). The fifth deck has the field office, purser's office, deans' offices, some staff housing (not to be confused with crew), the fancy dining room (that's what we call it, at least), and classroom #9 (where I have Health Psychology). The 6th floor is made up of the library, piano lounge/snack bar, casual dining room, campus stores, computer lab (where I am right now with Lauren and Rob), classrooms #1-8, the union, the smoking deck, and some more staff housing. On the 7th (and top) deck are the spa, gym, pool, pool bar, netted basketball court, and faculty lounge (where each "sea" gets to have a party once a month, or so I've been told). The décor is just like that which you'd find on a classy cruise ship—except the rooms full of couches and easy chairs are classrooms, not lounges.

Classes started yesterday, so we’ve now completed one A-day and one B-day (or, A1 and B1). Yesterday I had Global Studies at 9:20 (except I slept through it due to alarm problems, OOPS) and then Modern Britain at 2:15. My professor for the latter is spirited and humorous, so I think he’ll be good, but I still hate history classes. This will fulfill my last 3 gen-ed requirements for the College of Arts and Sciences at Pitt, so I’ve got to get it out of the way, but it’s gonna suck. Luckily Dan’s a history buff and he’s got the class with me, so I can perhaps lean on him a little.

Today I had Health Psychology at 8 a.m., Global Studies at 9:20, and Travel Writing at 10:45. Four straight hours of class. Such torture! My prof for psych seems great, but it was in this weird side classroom and some ship-part inside the wall was banging the ENTIRE time and slowly driving me insane. Global Studies was so boring, it was all I could do to resist going back to my cabin and passing out. Paying attention was simply out of the question. I was in a satellite classroom, since the union is at the front of the boat and it makes everyone seasick to be in there for too long. I’m thinking maybe once the ocean gets a little calmer, I’ll attend class in the union, where the speaker is live, and maybe then I’ll be able to pay attention. It’s just so boring!!! Ahh, I’m a good student, but only if I can do everything on my own and not have to go to class and whatnot. Last semester I got 2 A-, 2 A+, and 4 A’s, but that was only because I could teach myself everything from the books….I don’t think that’s going to be the case here at sea. I may very well be doomed. Travel writing, though, seems like it’s going to be exactly my kind of class. It’s very open-ended, participatory, and creativity-oriented, so I’m actually looking forward to it. We’re going to have to do a lot of writing, which kind of sucks (I hate writing for assignments), but I think it’ll be okay. We’ll see. Maybe I can even convert some of my blogs into assignment topics (or vice versa…)!

Alright, well I have written enough for now (although as I said before, I could go on and on…I have really only scratched the surface). There’s no way I’m going to have time to update from Puerto Rico, and if I do, then it’ll mean that I’m not having that much fun in Puerto Rico. ;) I’m looking forward to phoning Mom and Dad one last time without the stress of calling cards and "skype" and all that complicated international technology. And I’m also looking forward to being on a motionless ship for a few days, without having to worry about injury during showering and whatnot. I’m expecting Puerto Rico to be a nice little "practice" country before heading out to test our traveling skills in Brazil and India and the like. Expect an update in a few days!!

Bahamas!!!

2006-01-17T16:30:00.000-05:00

Well, we’re finally here, in the Bahamas. Right now I’m sitting in the living area of our room, enjoying the light breeze and perfect weather, having opened the sliding glass doors that lead out into a little courtyard garden. I’m about 15 yards away from the deck of the biggest yacht I’ve ever seen, docked in the marina beyond the courtyard. Over on the other side of the turquoise marina, there’s the spires and towers and giant swordfish statues of the Atlantis, and beyond that is the ocean. It’s an amazing view, even despite the fact that the Atlantis completely blocks the ocean.

I’m here with my parents, and we’re staying at the Land’Or hotel, which is basically surrounded by the Atlantis (apparently Land’Or refuses to give in and sell the property—good for them!). Good friends of the family (Bruce and Debbie McIndoe) own a timeshare here because of Bruce’s job, so we’re staying with them. Bruce is the president of iJet, a travel information company that works closely with Semester at Sea, and it’s neat because he has the inside scoop on things, and he’s bringing mom and dad for a tour of the ship in an hour or so. I think it’s somewhat unfair that they get to see my home for the next 3 months before I do, but I suppose since they’re paying for a good portion of it, I can deal. ;)

We arrived here yesterday around 1 p.m., after our 7 a.m. flight out of D.C. and a layover in Fort Lauderdale. I had almost zero anxiety about flying, probably because I was in some state of unconsciousness for the majority of both flights—even landing and take-off, which I never miss. So yeah, it turned out to be an excellent idea to pull an all-nighter the night before! I was pretty tired when we arrived at the timeshare, but after lunch at the pool bar I got a second wind. Mom, Dad, and the McIndoes decided to walk across the bridge to the mainland and do some shopping in town, but I decided to stay on Paradise Island and do my own thing. I ended up taking a looong walk, all up and down the beach, and then exploring/getting lost in the Atlantis complex. When I got back to the room, I took a much-needed 2-hour nap, and then Mom woke me up and the 5 of us went out to dinner at an upscale Italian place with outdoor seating. It was really nice—candlelight, wine, good food and conversation—I only wish I’d been hungrier. I split off from the group after we had dessert (raspberry crème brulee, YUM), and I went to meet Lauren in the lobby (well, one of the lobbies) of the Atlantis. It was sooo exciting to walk in and see her sitting there, because it really drives home the realization that here we are, in the Bahamas, together, about to embark on Semester at Sea. Crazy stuff. We first went to this bar/lounge in the hotel where a bunch of SASers were supposed to be meeting at 9, according to two girls I’d talked to earlier in the afternoon. Since we got there around 9:30, there were only a few people still there, as everyone had gone to Senor Frogs to drink. We didn’t feel like getting a taxi so we sat and had drinks with the remaining SASers, which was kind of fun, kind of awkward, and enough after an hour or so. Two of the girls seemed friendly and cool, but the guy in particular came off as pompous and close-minded. I can’t decide if that means he’s just the type that NEEDS to experience SAS, or if he’s the type that shouldn’t even bother going. Anyway, me and Lauren left the SASers and went to this empty outdoor bar, where we just sat and talked until well past midnight and had the best time. I don’t know if it’s fitting or ominous (or both) that our first night here, we separate ourselves from the others and go have a genuinely good time being loners. Haha oh well, there will be plenty of time to make friends and get to know people, and we are going to make a real effort to start tonight.

Today’s been pretty lazy so far. I slept till noon, then sat out by the pool, then walked down to the beach with Mom and Dad and had a nice little cat-nap. The water was warm and gorgeous, with HUGE waves , which is an oddity around here. I didn’t swim though, because it was quite windy and a bit chilly at times, and I like to be hot when I go in the ocean. I’ll definitely swim tomorrow though, since it’s our last day. We came back and got lunch from the pool bar around 3; I had "conch and fries," which was similar to fried clams and pretty good. I love trying new foods (especially when others are paying), and I think I’d try just about anything as long as it’s not red meat or super-spicy. Last night one of the SASers made a comment about bringing a bunch of Power Bars to India in order to avoid eating the food, and I thought to myself, why are you even going on this trip. Like, what’s the point of Semester at Sea, if it’s not to truly experience the world and gain a better understanding of it? I have a feeling I was very naïve to think that everyone would be down-to-earth and open-minded, and not just a bunch of privileged kids lightheartedly throwing around their parents’ money. I’m SURE that this isn’t the case for most, but it’s disappointing that it may be for some.

On a lighter note though, I am really just so happy and content right now. It’s such a godsend to have these 3 days of calm before leaving on the 19th. This past week of preparation has been so intense and stressful, but now we can relax and regroup before having to say goodbye. Perhaps most importantly, I get a much-needed mental vacation before delving into an experience that I suspect will introduce new extremes of mental taxation, but in a good way this time (hopefully). Not that packing and whatnot wasn’t fun in a way, because it was—it was also just nightmarish, in a way. Of course, I had my own system going, so organization wasn’t really a problem; it was just so much harder than you’d expect to actually collect everything, and then physically put it in a suitcase. There’s so many things to think about and consider when packing for a trip like this, and it took me forever (which is the reason I pulled an all-nighter on Sunday). It is so hard to pack an entire semester’s worth of stuff into two suitcases! Actually, I cheated and used the free space in Mom and Dad’s bag, but even with that I still had to remove some clothing in order to zip up my suitcase. That really sucked. I like to have a wide range of options when it comes to clothes. Thankfully Lauren and me are similar sizes, on the bottom at least, and also the same shoe size—lucky for me since she’s recently developed a thing for stilettos. :)

We’re having dinner tonight with Lauren and her parents, so I’m going to go shower and get ready for that. I also need to let this sad little laptop recharge, since its battery only lasts about an hour (and that’s with the screen at its darkest). I guess that’s the best you can expect from a 1995 "Omnibook," though. It doesn’t even have the internet or a place to plug in a USB device, so I have to save my files to a floppy disk (from an external floppy drive) and then use the computer lab on the boat to post them in my blog. Quite a process I’ve got to go through!! Oh well, I’m not complaining, cause if it weren’t for this ancient laptop from my mom’s work, I wouldn’t be able to do a blog at all. And that would be so sad for all 10 of the people that read this. ;)

One last thing: happy 21st birthday to Erin Innes, my best friend since 5th grade and pretty much favorite person in the world. She’s currently studying abroad in Figi for her winter semester and is having a fabulous time, from what I’ve heard. I love you Erin! Can’t wait till we’re both home, discussing our travels over a legitimately-obtained bottle of wine!!

Countdown: 4 more days

2006-01-13T00:31:00.000-05:00

God, I'm so excited!!!!! Every so often it randomly just hits me that I'm about to embark on Semester at Sea; that within 4 months I'll have been to places like INDIA and AFRICA. It's so unreal. Half the time that I think about it, it's with complete apprehension, and the rest of the time it's with a kind of giddiness and excitement that I haven't experienced since second grade when I found out we were going to Disney World. My apprehension is due to worries about things such as safety and my personal coping abilities. For instance, despite all of the statistics about flying being 100,000 times safer than driving and yada yada yada, it still freaks me out. I'm usually okay with a single plane ride here and there, but over the next few months I'll be on at least 3 or 4 round-trip flights, and in countries where flying regulations are probably not very enforced (or existant). I am going to be a nervous wreck. I hope I have some comforting travel companions. My next biggest fear is that I'll just be a completely inept traveler. I'll be doing most excursions indy-style, and let's just say that I'd better be a super-fast learner, or latch onto someone who knows how to navigate airports and buy tickets and whatnot. I barely know how to go about booking a flight in the U.S., so doing it in China concerns be just a bit. I'm also afraid that I won't make any friends. I know this sounds stupid, but it wouldn't be a total shocker if I ended up the odd one out. I'm going to be the pale girl in the cowboy hat feverishly applying sunblock every ten minutes and lugging her own salad dressing to dinner every night, I just know it!!! Haha at least I know I have a friend in Lauren. Lauren as in Lauren Anderson, one of my two best friends at Pitt since freshman year, and my soon-to-be roommate on SAS (assuming they honor our request). I have a feeling that people may look down on the fact that we are "doing SAS together," as if it means that we're incapable of true independence or something? Well, that's not the case. I came to Pitt knowing that I would be going on SAS as a junior, and after I applied and was accepted last year, Lauren decided to apply too. She'd always planned on studying abroad the second semester of her junior year, and after weighing the various options she chose SAS, because really, it's soooo much cooler than going to London or whatever. And then since we both happened to be going, it only made sense to room together-- I mean, we are both obsessive neat freaks, always need music on, can't stand it when there's hair in the shower-- we'd hate to make some poor random girls deal with our weird OCDs. So there ya go, me and Lauren are rooming together for our 4th semester in a row, but we are SO excited about becoming bff with all the girls in our hall (or "sea" as I believe they call it on the ship), and the guys as well, although I'm assuming they'll be in a separate, male-only sea.

Tonight I got coffee with this guy Dan, who is also going on SAS and happens to live near me (although we didn't go to the same high school). He seems cool, and it's nice to be able to talk to someone in person who has the same reality facing them in 4 day's time. I think I may be overstressing though; he's completely packed and ready to go, and then there's Lauren, who hasn't done a single thing but isn't freaking out at all. I, on the other hand, have been frantically preparing for several days now, and I still have all kinds of to-do lists and random post-it reminders stuck all over the place. That's just the way I am though; I overthink and overprepare myself for everything! But I enjoy it for the most part. It's the good, exciting kind of stress, not the heart-attack causing kind.

Now I'm going to do a quick overview of the classes and teachers that I'll have on the boat. It actually won't be quick to read, but it'll be quick for me since all I have to do is cut and paste from the SAS website.

Classes:

English Writing 1401: Topics in Non-Fiction: Magazine and Travel Writing
(Professor Naomi Rachel)
We all know that a rolling stone gathers no moss, but it certainly gains a certain polish. Through travel reading and writing, students will learn how to express that polish as well as to be able to analyze the work of famous travel writers. We will examine the merger of sound and sense. Writing about traveling in Japan should be very different than writing about Egyptian travel. Students will keep a daily travel journal in addition to weekly writing assignments. This is a discussion class and students will be encouraged to share their insights. Methods of evaluation consist of class participation, weekly written assignments, revision and workshops, and the field component.

History 1123: Modern Britain (Professor Charles Carlton)
During this course we will examine the history of the British Isles in the twentieth century, paying special attention to the relationship between Britain and non-British societies. Special attention will be paid to Anglo-Indian relations, and the United Kingdom's decline as a great power. Students will also compare British and American history, institutions, and culture. Methods of evaluation consist of class participation, a research paper, two exams, and a final exam.

Psychology 1215: Health Psychology (Professor Chiwoza Bandawe)
This course aims to provide a broad introduction to the field of Health Psychology and will explore our relationships with health and illness in a variety of cross cultural ways. The course will begin with a review of the topic in general, including: how we define and what we believe about health, and how psychology is able to contribute to the study of health and healthcare. The course therefore involves the application of psychological principles to such physical health areas as for example managing stress, alleviating pain, safer sex behaviour, participation in physical exercise, controlling cholesterol, lowering high blood pressure and regular medical check-ups. You will consider two broad areas of our health experience: in looking after yourself preventative health behaviours such as exercise and health screening provide an individual theme; being looked after will concern our relationships with doctors and other healthcare providers, reflecting how medical, cultural and societal factors mould health care across the world. Method of evaluation: Students will be graded on frequent quizzes and three non-cumulative exams, as well as on the field experience(s) term paper, and the oral report. Suggested Prerequisites: Introduction to Psychology.

Geography 1000: Global Studies (Professor Sam Sheldon, Coordinator)
This interdisciplinary course focuses on the countries visited and is tailored especially to meet the global and comparative approach of Semester at Sea. It is mandatory for all students. In addition to providing basic information about the countries on the itinerary, Core also provides a meaningful framework by which to compare data, examine issues, and develop concepts. Participants learn how to understand cultural and social phenomena with which they are constantly coming into contact during the semester and to highlight both commonalities and differences from one society to another. Core equips participants with observational and analytical skills for encountering societies different from their own, and different from each other, a key factor in facilitating the integration of class work and field work for all courses. Objectives: 1) To provide basic information about the physical and cultural geography; key historical events; the current social, economic and political situation of each country visited. 2) To present regional and global issues which in various ways affect the countries on our itinerary. Examples include race relations, population, poverty, ethnic/religious conflicts, technology, status of women, human rights, environment and globalization. 3) To emphasize the similarities and differences in the variety of human experiences and to assist students in developing the observational and analytical skills needed to draw cross-cultural comparisons. Method of evaluation based on four or five objective tests.

A pet peeve I'm quickly developing is for the assumption that SAS is an academic joke, and that all it consists of is partying and sightseeing in exotic locales. Perhaps it used to deserve this reputation, but I know that in recent years there's been much emphasis placed on academics. SAS can afford to be choosy when it comes to professors, and they accept some of the best that the world has to offer. We have classes every day we're at sea, which means no weekends off, and each class has in-port assignments and activities which must be completed. I read that on the fall '05 voyage, only 12 students out of 700 got straight-A's-- and most people take only four classes! I feel like that's a very low number. I'm planning on going easy on myself this semester, and I'll try to be happy with a minimum of straight-B's.

Now for a description of my Professors:

Naomi Rachel
English. Professor Rachel taught for fifteen years at the University of British Columbia before moving to the University of Colorado, Boulder. Her poetry and essays have appeared in over 350 international publications. She received the Van Elk Teaching Award for mentoring as well as the Women Who Make A Difference Award (both at the University of Colorado) for an international group she formed titled "Understanding Each Other In Today's World". Professor Rachel has sailed on Semester at Sea as a student and she has studied in Mexico for a year while attending the Instituto de Allende in San Miguel de Allende. M.F.A., Creative Writing / Poetry, Antioch University; M.A. & Ph.D., English Literature, San Francisco State University.

Charles Carlton
History. Professor of History, North Carolina State University. Professor Carlton has been at North Carolina State since 1969. A native of England, Professor Carlton has been a visiting professor at Duke University, Liaoning University in China, the Australian Defence Forces Academy, and at the Universities of Pune and Mumbai in India. He is the author of twelve books, including a biography of Charles I and Going to Wars: The Experience of the British Civil Wars, 1638-51. Professor Carlton is a senior member of Wolfson College, Cambridge University. B.A, University of Wales, Cardiff; M.A. & Ph.D., University of California, Los Angeles.

Chiwoza Bandawe
Psychology. Senior Lecturer in the Department of Psychology at the University of Cape Town, South Africa. Prior to that he was Senior Lecturer, Chair of Department of Community Health and Dean of Students at the College of Medicine, University of Malawi in Southern Africa. He obtained his Doctorate in Psychology in 2000. His areas of interest and expertise include Social Psychology and in particular cultural aspects of human behavior and health competence; Indigenous African Psychology and Clinical Psychology. He has several publications in international journals and recently published his first book: Mind Tips: A Psychology of Practical Living Skills for Malawi. He has made several presentations at many international meetings and was Interport Lecturer on the MV Explorer between Mombasa and Cape Town during the Spring 2005 voyage. B.Soc Sc (Credit), University of Malawi; BSoc Sc (Honours) in the First Class, University of Cape Town; M.A. (Clinical Psychology), University of Cape Town; PhD, University of Cape Town.

Samuel R. Sheldon
Geography. Professor, St. Bonaventure University. Research interests in cultural-historical geography and rural landscapes. Publications include articles in Economic Botany, Journal of Developing Areas, Culture, Form, and Place, and American Review of Canadian Studies. Currently Editor of Canadian Studies Specialty Group Newsletter of the Association of American Geographers. Extensive field experience in Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, and Canada. Taught in Texas A&M University's Summer-at-Sea program two years (Mediterranean and Caribbean). Sailed as a Professor on the Spring 1994 voyage of Semester at Sea. B.S., State University College at Buffalo; M.S., Eastern Michigan University; Ph.D., Louisiana State University.

Don't they sound like such neat people? They seem so worldly and interesting and intelligent. I have a feeling I'll be able to learn a lot from them. And I have this theory that the majority of people who would choose to do something like Semester at Sea (whether as a professor or a student) would most likely be all of the above. I'm probably wrong, but one can hope!

Countdown: 7 more days

2006-01-10T06:24:00.001-05:00

Here begins my official Spring 2006 Semester at Sea online journal.

This will be a record of my thoughts, feelings, and experiences as I sail around the world on the MV Explorer, which just so happens to be "the fastest passenger ship afloat today with a cruising speed of 28 knots," according to the SAS website. I have no idea how that translates into miles per hour, but it sounds impressive. And I don't have to worry about what would happen if a 50-foot wave were to crash into the ship, because they dealt with that last spring! It really does seem like just yesterday that I was accepted into SAS in the midst of its unprecedented stormy-seas problems, back when the spring 2006 voyage seemed like SUCH an intangible journey that would never really come. Well, here I am, a year later, and 10 days away from setting sail. Seven days away from leaving for the Bahamas. I have a to-do list with, oh, 50 or so items on it that need to be accomplished before I leave. It's gonna be a busy week, and I know that it will fly by. I'm so excited, but I am also scared to death. I can't even begin to wrap my mind around the incredible experience that I'm about to dive into headfirst.

Right now, I need to head towards bed, since I really do need to start waking up earlier than 12 or 1 in the afternoon (ok, sometimes 2 or 3, but that's a rarity!). Tomorrow I'm getting a haircut, since I won't have another opportunity until May...that is, unless I'm feeling freespirited and spontaneous and decide to shave my head at the crossing of the Equator. Haha I sure would regret that one!

I'd like to end this first entry with a disclaimer: I'm writing this blog, first and foremost, for myself. I have kept a continuous journal since I was 12 and in 7th grade, and for the past 2.5 years it's been in the form of a Livejournal (on livejournal.com). I do this because I find it rewarding to have a record of my thoughts, which for the most part, I have always kept private. However, during my time on Semester at Sea, I want my friends and family to be able to know where I am and what I'm doing (and in my mom's case, that I'm still alive and getting proper nutrition). For this reason, I'm making my online journal available for all that are interested-- but I do not plan on going out of my way to censor myself, be politically correct, capitalize proper nouns, appear to be a model citizen, etc. Subject matter visible to the public will, of course, remain PG (my parents are reading this, after all), but consider that, for instance, Harold & Maude is rated PG. So is Poltergeist! I write honestly, I write what's on my mind, and it might not even be related to SAS. All I ask is that if you read my blog, do so non-judgementally, and enjoy.