Photos

Here are some of my favorite photos from the voyage!
Spain: Cadiz
Spain: Barcelona
Morocco: Atlas Mountains, Sahara, Marrakech
Namibia: Walvis Bay, Swakopmund, Dune 7
South Africa: Cape Town, Table Mountain, Khayelitsha
India: Chennai, Kancheepuram, Mamallapuram
Thailand: Pattaya, Bangkok
Vietnam: Mekong Delta, Ho Chi Minh City
Hong Kong
China: Beijing, Shanghai
Japan: Tokyo
Guatemala: Antigua

Au Revoir

It's been a little over a week since the voyage ended. This time has been a period of adjustment, back into stationary predictability, and it has been relieving, but lonely, confusing, and painful. Up until the last few days of the journey, I was convinced that I was prepared for it to be over, but in the last few hours on the ship the reality of going home hit me like a brick. For four months, the ship and its community were my life, my reality, and my home, and at times I feel like I was torn away and that they disappeared in an instant. I remind myself that the community we built and the growth we all underwent are still alive, just spread out. We shared something that will bind and bond us for life. Every one of us is changed, although it might not be obvious immediately. I look at myself in a different way, and literally everything I encounter takes on a different meaning.

I don't have a home anymore, but that notion doesn't scare me. Home is where the heart is. I finally understand what that means. My heart is everywhere, and everywhere is my home.

Every moment that we live is both an ending and a beginning. The Semester at Sea voyage has ended, but now marks the beginning of the new chances to put myself into action. Before the journey, I expected to have my eyes opened to the world, and they were. Ultimately, though, it was a journey inside myself. The voyage tested every one of my limits, and through it I became more aware of things that were already present in me, and also the ways I was changing as a result. When the ship docked in Fort Lauderdale, it released a flood of people with renewed and refined motivation to take action. Now I'm faced with a thousand different directions I can turn, and I will rely on you for guidance as I figure out how and where I can serve.

So, what can I say about the voyage? What have I learned? I'm overflowing with stories and reflections, and I'm sure it will take a very long time to even scratch the surface. Here's a start.

• Before the voyage, I expected to gain an understanding of how big and diverse the world is. I did get a new sense of scale and an exposure to many different ways of living. But mainly, I now understand that the world is actually a small place, and people don't vary too much from culture to culture. At the most basic level, people want the same things from life: to care for their family, to express themselves, to earn respect, to love, to laugh. This is clear in the vibrant art in every culture we visited, and also in the violent and damaging acts that people commit in order to secure basic needs for themselves and their family.

• Despite those common threads, harsh contrasts exist, often in close proximity. In South Africa, I was shocked to find the most desperately poor townships just several kilometers from the skyscrapers in the city. That proximity reminds me that poverty is mainly born out of the false constructs of class and politics.

• We don't know very much about the world. John Kastendiek's marine biology class made me realize that the natural world is still largely a mystery to us. We're still just beginning to understand the intricate workings of life, and the impact that humans have on the earth.

• The world will soon undergo radical changes, and they will happen at an alarming rate. We're at a fascinating and daunting point in our technological history. In the next few years, we're going to see the line between humans and digital technology blur, with each becoming more like the other. Ray Kurzweil's book The Singularity Is Near outlines this in an impossibly optimistic but gripping way.

• Everything is music. Matthew Burtner's classes trained my ears to listen to the world in an entirely new way. The soundscape of any environment can be heard as an endless composition. Electronic methodologies are propelling the next evolution of music.

• The natural world creates some things that are beautiful beyond words. Patterns in nature are built around cycles, but there is also subtle yet powerful movement forward. The flowing rock on the Pacaya volcano in Guatemala is a striking example.

These opportunities to travel place me among the luckiest, most fortunate, and most blessed people on earth. I'm so deeply grateful and indebted to everyone who made it possible. My parents, for their physical and emotional support, and their trust. My faculty and advisors at Chapman who helped me prepare and provided their recommendations. The staff at Chapman's study abroad office, and the Institute for Shipboard Education, for accepting me and for providing generous financial assistance. The staff and faculty who sailed on the voyage, for their love of knowledge. The crew on the ship, who worked tirelessly to provide for our safety and comfort. All my family and friends on land, whose love I carried around the world and whose patience has helped me transition back into regular life. And finally, to the student community on the ship, for being the most vital, welcoming, and caring group of people I've ever met. I am in love with each and every one of you.

This is my last full-fledged post. I'll post links to my photos and recordings when I've had a chance to sort through them. Thank you for keeping up with my writing here. These entries have lead me to some of my most important discoveries of the voyage, and your feedback and comments provided an important tether to life back home. The journey is priceless, and I'm so happy to have shared it with you.

Safe travels,
Until we meet again,
All my love,

Isaiah

South Africa

Now that the trip is over, I'm spending some time going back and finishing some posts that I skipped over. There's obviously a lot to say about my last few days on the ship, and the re-entry into regular life. To be honest, that process has been confusing and challenging, and I'm not quite ready to write about it yet. In the meantime, here's my post for South Africa, which I began about two months ago. I've said to a few people that it would be impossible to pick a “favorite” port from the voyage, but South Africa still stands out as one of the most eye-opening and compelling.

[Written 3/3/09]
I've been reflecting on my time in South Africa every day since we left. It's been difficult to begin writing because my experience there was so rich and moving, and I still don't know if I can do it justice by writing. I'm going to jump in with day 1 and hope that at least some of the intensity can come through.

On our first day, I got the chance to visit Robben Island. The island has a long and painful history of It was originally used as a quarantine area for lepers from 1836 to 1931. In 1959, during South Africa's apartheid regime, it was converted to a maximum security prison for political prisoners. Nelson Mandela spent many of his 27 years of imprisonment on the island.
After the ferry ride to the island, the tour began with a bus ride around the island's perimeter. It was a little weird. Our guide spoke in a voice that was cartoonishly dramatic, and poked fun at the nationalities of everyone on the bus. This combined with the shocking and devastating facts about the island's history made the experience a little bizarre. I guess it's hard to balance the island's status as a tourist attraction with its intense past.

Our guide hosted the tour for Barack Obama several years ago. When they stopped near a cannon that was intended for use during World War II, the guide said to him, “Senator, please do not tell your president that we have weapons of mass destruction.”

The tour underwent a change in tone after we left the bus for the walking tour. Our second guide was imprisoned on the island at a young age, for participating in student protests. As we walked through the cell areas, he described the pain of taking part in a hunger strike while the guards forced them to smell cooked food, and rewarded those who broke the strike. He also recounted how apartheid affected even the jails: prisoners were allowed better diet and accommodations depending on their race.

I left Robben Island with mixed feelings. I was definitely moved and intrigued by what I saw, but I know that the tour could have been more poignant. The island obviously still has a painful connection to many South Africans; it was only completely emptied of prisoners in 1994. But it's strange that they lead the tours so casually. Our first guide thanked us for touring and supporting the island's workers in a time of widespread unemployment. Are they afraid that visitors won't return to the island if it's too depressing of an experience?

That night, I attended a fantastic theatre performance. One of Semester at Sea's previous professors manages a theatre in Cape Town, and we saw a pretty wild performance. It was called “Pictures of You” and I would describe it as dramatic mime. No dialogue at all, character masks, puppets...fantastic lighting and sound too. The director spoke to us beforehand, and mentioned that the play has been popular with speakers of many languages as well as the deaf community. It was really compelling. It centered around a husband and wife with dark secrets underneath the surface of their marriage. I was amazed at the complexity and clarity of the nonverbal storytelling.

I spent the next day freely exploring Cape Town with friends. The heart of the city reminded me a lot of San Francisco. Just a crowded downtown with lots of traffic, stores, and busyness. We did stop by some craft markets, which were similar to the ones in Namibia, with friendly salespeople. These guys were a little more honest with us though...everyone in Namibia wanted us to believe that they did all the craftwork personally, even though the stall right next to them had the exact same items. (“Look at my hands! Very rough. Hard work.”) The South African merchants let us know if they bought the items.

The pre-port lectures on South Africa gave us the harshest warnings about crime. We heard so many horror stories of muggings and robberies. One speaker mentioned that South Africans consider themselves lucky if, in the case of a break-in, all their possessions are stolen but their family escapes safely. So, we were all on edge when we arrived. Luckily, no one on the trip ran into anything too serious. On that day in the market, though, Jonathan noticed that we had been targeted by a group of kids. Jonathan jabbed me in the side and said under his breath that we needed to leave. He motioned for me to look, and kids in two different directions had their eyes on us. One of them had previously asked Jonathan for money, which is apparently a method they use to find out where you keep your wallet. We scrammed.

Later that day we checked out the local aquarium, which was cool. Giant spider crabs are eerie. One student here later told me that when she visited the same aquarium, there was a group of young school children there on a field trip. One of the aquarium employees told her that the students were from a township, and it might be the last time in their lives that they get to see live fish.

That evening, we joined up with another group of students from SaS and ate dinner at a fancyish pizza restaurant that overlooked Table Mountain, and explored the nightlife, which wasn't too exciting. We did hang out with some local white college-age guys, who were like caricatures of male models. Way tall, tight clothes, spiked bleached hair...outrageous. We didn't talk to them about anything important but I did learn a little about fashion.

The next morning Jonathan and I woke up early to bus into a township and participate in a Habitat for Humanity building project. The organization brings together volunteers to build homes for local people that the government selects based on their economic eligibility. On the way there, driving through the township, I got to see the first area of real poverty we have come across on this voyage. Homes are mostly put together with scrap metal and wood, although a lot of the ones we saw had running water and electricity (which is illegally split from power lines, but the government doesn't bother them about it). Our driver explained that because those amenities were present, we were in the nicer section of the township. In addition to those homes, there are new buildings which have been assembled by Habitat for Humanity or similar organizations. They're simple, but a huge step up from the other shelters. As we drove, literally every resident, young and old, waved enthusiastically and smiled.

When we arrived at the building site, we met the leader (who volunteers his time) as well as several local builders. The Habitat rules say that the house's future owner must help build the home, and put in a certain amount of hours on future homes. The guys were really spirited, taught us some of their slang, and talked to each other in one of the local languages, which was fascinating to me. The building's foundation and cinderblock walls were finished when we arrived, and we spent the whole day working on the house's roof. That involved a lot of human-chaining to move tiles from a pile across the road, fixing the roof's insulating material to the roof, building some of the roof's frames & nailing them into place, and finally moving all the tiles to the roof and nailing them down. Seven or eight hours flew by, and by the end of our day we were looking at a nearly completed roof. It's amazing how quickly the houses are built: 30 days to turn an empty lot into a finished home.

After the work was done, some local women served us a homemade meal, which was delicious. We also got a few minutes to interact with some young kids who were kicking around a soccer ball. Although our work was brief and I was just one of many workers, to know that I helped create someone's home is an incredibly satisfying thought...especially when I consider that to many of the township residents, receiving one of those houses for their family is dream come true.

---
We just finished our one-day stop in Mauritius. It was a very welcome chance to slow down and catch my breath. The nonstop nature of this trip is wearing down on a lot of us, including me, but today's catamaran and snorkeling cruise was definitely refreshing. If you're like me before the trip, and you haven't heard about Mauritius, it's a 2040 square km tropical island east of Madagascar. Its population is mostly French-speaking people of Indian descent, and its beaches are pristine. Our catamaran stopped in two different locations for us to jump in the water (which was very warm) and snorkel. I saw lots of colorful fish, some little squid, a young giant clam, and a sea turtle and a school of dolphins from a distance.


[Written 5/7/09]
There are just two days left to cover from South Africa. Some of you might have read my friends' posts about our Table Mountain climb. Now, I haven't read Jonathan's post, and I'm not sure exactly what he wrote that made someone freak out, but right after he posted I got a scared email from my mom, and a couple of scared emails from other people telling me how scared my mom was. I should set the record straight: I did not come close to dying on Table Mountain. I thought I was going to die, which is an important difference. Here's the story.

Table Mountain overlooks the whole city of Cape Town. It's a startling and beautiful backdrop. On our fourth day, Jonathan, Taylor and I decided to pay it a visit. We had heard that there were many trails that we could climb to the top, and that most were fairly easy hikes. Right before we left the ship, we ran into a friend who mentioned that her friend Ari was looking for a group to go with, and asked if he could tag along with us. We said sure.

As the four of us left the ship, we passed through the usual crowd of taxi drivers that flocks to the ship. Early on in the voyage, we learned to ignore them and walk farther away from the ship to search for better fares, but this time Jonathan and I recognized Mousta, our driver from the night before. We trusted him, and asked him to take us to a good trail to hike the mountain. He dropped us off, pointed to the beginning of a trail, and told us that it was a quick way to the top. That was Ignored Warning Sign #1. If we had taken a moment to think, we would have realized that the quick way to the top of the mountain means the steep way.

Right before we set off on the trail, we snapped a picture in front of the trail's sign and map route. Closer inspection of that photograph reveals some interesting details. If you look past Jonathan's grin, the sign contains a written warning which reads something along the lines of “DANGER. India Venster trail is strongly discouraged for inexperienced climbers” (Ignored Warning Sign #2). The trail's pathway was outlined in yellow. Some sections were marked in a solid line, and others broke off into vague, dotted lines (Ignored Warning Sign #3). At the time, we didn't notice any of that. We just snapped the picture and hurried onto the trail. The beginning was steep and a little rocky, but not too difficult.

Early on, we ran into a group of three hikers who carried a bunch of professional climbing gear. Their plan was to break off from the trail and go climbing near the mountain's top. They told us that India Venster is the most direct way to the top (Ignored Warning Sign #4). We asked if it was difficult, and they said not really, and then immediately afterward asked if we had ever climbed before (IWS #5). We said nope, and they said, “ah, you'll be OK.” They said we didn't need any equipment, and that the only difficult sections were three sets of “scrambles” up some rocks. That didn't sound too bad to us, so after they told us the general route to the top and recommended that we follow the painted yellow footprints, they wished us luck and split off from the trail.

We eventually learned what a scramble was. The trail lead up to a steep rock wall, and then ended. The wall was maybe ten feet high. We had seen a yellow footprint shortly before, so Jonathan decided to climb up and see if he could locate another. At the time I thought he was wasting his time, because I thought any normal trail wouldn't include real rock-climbing. He hoisted himself up, walked a distance, and then called back that he saw a footprint. Ari, Taylor and I followed, and once we reached the top we took a good look up at the mountain. When I saw it looming overhead, saw the jagged boulders and a rock field in the far distance, and the top, way way up, it became clear to me that I was in a little over my head. Our route crossed back and forth beneath the tourist cable car lines. Thinking back, I find it funny that we took the exact route that people built an entire cable car system to avoid.

From then on, the journey became very focused as we just dealt with one step at a time. Even in the easier sections, I was on all fours for stability and leverage. Every few minutes we would stop and look back. The cars parked far below us turned to specks. During one section of more difficult climbing, I lost my footing and Jonathan pulled me up by my wrist. Another time, while we were scaling a narrow ledge, the weight of my backpack would have made me fall backward, so I took it off and carried it by my side. Aside from those two moments, though, the scariest idea to me was not falling, but losing the trail and being stranded overnight on the mountain.

We kept climbing. We didn't run into any people until we reached the open rock field and saw a family of three climbing down in the opposite direction. We were initially relieved to see them, but soon learned that they were intending to climb up, but had lost track of the trail and were heading back. We knew it would be nearly impossible for us to climb down the way we came, so we kept going up. It turned out to be the directions of the original three climbers that saved us. We looped around the right side of the mountain and met one final intense section of climbing where we had to wedge ourselves in a crevice between two boulders and hop back and forth to reach higher ground. After that, we knew we were close. The trails began to combine, and we ran into a man who had taken a different route up, but was familiar with ours. We followed him the rest of the way, and emerged on the plateau on top of the mountain.

We celebrated with hot chocolate. At that point, I felt victorious, and like I could tackle any hurdle. For me, finishing the climb might be the most personally motivating experience of the voyage.

We took the cable car down.

On our last day in South Africa, I took a Semester at Sea organized trip to Khayelitsha township, the place where I had worked on the Habitat for Humanity house two days before. The trip gave me a chance to spend some more time considering the lives of the people that live there. I was surprised to discover that the township is designed like a miniature city. The placement of peoples homes and stores is actually well organized, and easy to get around. A company had set up various cheap payphones for the residents to use. As I mentioned before, the section of Khayelitsha that we visited is very well developed compared to other townships which can be more desperately poor.

Like before, we were greeted with smiles and waves. Our tour stopped at a well-known bed and breakfast place which was founded by a local woman. She told us that the local people are aware of the aid that comes from American citizens, and that the kids in the townships are taught that Americans should be welcomed as friends. She also said that people in the township do not want pity for their poverty. “We are a proud people,” she said, and even though some are desperately in need of help, they want to be seen as a strong, culturally rich community.

We visited a local church, where a service was being held. The congregation sang music that was soulful and beautiful. Outside the church, we had the chance to buy some handcrafted artwork. On the way back to the bus, really young schoolkids held each of our hands and walked with us. It occurred to me later that they were probably instructed to do that, but the gesture was still sweet and moving.

Elections were coming up, and we passed by a political rally on our way out. People shouted and waved signs for their party as we drove by. One of the saddest aspects I saw of the township is that people who are unemployed just sit idle for much of their days, but participating in politics gives them a worthwhile place to put their energy.

My time in South Africa was eye-opening in a lot of ways. Like the voyage as a whole, it offered me exposure to the dynamics of the world, as well as unexpected insight into myself.


Don't touch that dial. More to come...

"Home"

Hi all,
Just a quick update to let you know I made it back to the Bay safely. Stay tuned: there's a lot more to say and pictures to post. Hugs, and I'll see you soon.

Guatemala, and Beginning the End

I just boarded the ship for the last time. It's another reminder that this voyage is really in its final stages. That is a very sad prospect. Jonathan said something very wise, though, that I'm trying to follow. He said his goal for this final week is to concentrate on making the days the happiest and most memorable that they can be, rather than wasting time moping. So the promise I've made myself is that I'm going to be honest and admit to myself when I get down about the voyage ending. But then I'm going to consider what's making me sad and try to turn it around. I'm going to miss so many of the people I've met on the ship. So I'm going to spend as much time with them as I can. I'm going to miss a lot of the faculty I've gotten to know on a personal level. So I'm not going to miss any chance to let them know how much they've taught me and helped me grow. I'm going to miss all the ship's crew, so I'm going to tell them how grateful I am for their insanely hard work. I'm also going to miss you, dear reader, so I'm really going to make a strong effort to post a lot in these last few days, and catch up with some of the things I've skipped over.

OK, Guatemala.

Guatemala was unexpectedly fantastic, and probably the most pleasant surprise of the voyage. Before we arrived, we were overwhelmed with warnings about violence and crime within the country. Luckily I've gotten better at taking that info with a grain of salt, and interpreting it as simply a caution, instead of letting it create a negative bias of the entire culture. So I entered Guatemala determined to keep an open mind, and to find redeeming qualities of the country. Surprisingly, my experience of the country was on the complete other end of the spectrum...I felt safe and at home the entire time we were there.

The night before we arrived, I didn't have a single plan. That's another thing I've gotten good at as a result of this voyage: being comfortable with open (or nonexistent) plans. Ari showed up at our room, and he, Jonathan, and I decided that we would spend our time in La Antigua Guatemala, which is a city about an hour's drive north of Puerto Quetzal, where the ship was docked. Antigua was the colonial Spanish capital of Central America, and is a main tourist destination of Guatemala.

On the first morning, we revived our skills at taxi haggling, and spent a good half an hour holding our ground against a crowd of drivers. Our patience paid off, and we got a decent fare. Our guy drove way way fast. (I realized that driving in the US is going to be completely boring.)

When we arrived in Antigua, my first impression was that the city was too small to be the hot tourist destination we had read about. The cobblestone streets were narrow, and the entire city was only seven blocks square. There's a pretty central park, a couple of active churches, as well as a haunting one that was destroyed in an earthquake ages ago. The city was probably the most culturally diverse I saw on this voyage, because it's a hub for every tourist that visits Guatemala.

We found a hotel pretty quickly, and spent the rest of the first day exploring the city. We ran into SaS students often and had lunch with some. We found a great place for dinner called The Travel Menu, which is geared to travelers and owned by a friendly Danish guy. They served the best Guacamole I've ever eaten (it was so good that I accidentally capitalized it in this sentence.)

A big attraction near Antigua is the volcano called Pacaya, which is actively flowing and a popular hiking spot. We booked a 6 am tour, and at the hotel that night we played a great game of Settlers of Catan, which Jonathan had brought in his luggage.

We woke up before sunrise the next morning for our volcano tour. All fourteen people on the tour were SaS students. I had intended to sleep during the hour-long drive but the bumpy cobblestone streets shook us all up, so we ate stale bagels and got to know each other. We met our guide once we arrived at the volcano (which wasn't immediately visible). He didn't speak much english, but we got by pretty well with Ari's translation. The climb took about 90 minutes, first through forresty areas which then thinned out into open cascades of volcanic rock. Eventually we could see the volcano in the distance, with red glowing highlights and steam where lava flowed. It got difficult to climb as we neared the vents, because the porous rocks got smaller and less stable. When we arrived at the lava flow, I was awestruck. I really don't think I can do the experience justice through words. It's a sight like no other, to see rock dripping and flowing. The heat was intense. It was unbearable to be closer than five feet for more than a few seconds. Some students brought marshmallows and sticks, and could toast a marshmallow from about a meter away within two seconds. Jonathan poured water on the ground nearby the lava flow, and it boiled and steamed instantly. It felt disarming to interact with a natural force that is so powerful and unstoppable.

Tired from the long hike, we all slept during the return drive. Jonathan, Ari and I wandered the streets looking for a cheap lunch. We eventually decided to return to The Traveler's Menu, temped by that Guacamole. Afterward, we visited one of the churches, which is home to a crucifix with a life-sized figure that is built with movable joints and flowing hair. Every year on Good Friday, they carry it as part of a ceremony, and this marionette Christ kind of dangles his limbs and his hair flows realistically.

We also explored the ruins of a Cathedral, which was haunting. Massive chunks of carvings and stone architecture have fallen, and the former ceiling was open to the sky. We took steps down into what I'm pretty sure was a crypt. It was beautiful and chilling at the same time.

The three of us headed back to our hotel for a nap, and ate dinner at La Pena de Sol Latino, which served us quesadillas and the most delicious brownie in the world, I'm convinced. They had a really good panflute/guitar/bongo band.

We had been running into SaS people everywhere in Antigua, and since it was our last night of the voyage in port, we decided to walk until we found a gathering of people we knew. There was a bar that was packed full of students and professors. Much later in the night, we returned to our hotel for a game of Settlers that we took a lot less seriously.

We woke up late the next morning, checked out, got bagels and a second helping of those delicious brownies, bought hand-stitched slippers, and shared a cab back to the ship with my music/sound professor and his wife.

I was completely satisfied with my time in Guatemala, which I think is a testament to the traveling skills I've developed on this voyage. I've learned to take comfort in a certain amount of confusion and haphazardness, and that it only takes a shift in attitude to change a stressful situation into an amusing one.

That's all I have for now. I know I'll be doing a lot of reflecting as the voyage comes to an end, and I'll do my best to share my thoughts and feelings here. Love to everyone, and thanks for reading.

A Moment in the Pacific

A few days after I posted on Vietnam, I received an email from Vu Van Thai, the interport lecturer who I quoted in the previous post. He kindly agreed to let me post his email here.

--

Hi Isaiah,

Is it a surprise to you that the man who uttered: “We cannot change our history, but we can change our attitude” is speaking to you now. Yes, I’m Vu Van Thai, the Vietnamese interport lecturer. I was wondering whether I have talked to you when aboard or not. I can’t remember since there were so many.

I have just read your writing in the blog, concerning your feelings when you were in Vietnam. You are the right kind of sensitive and emotional person, exemplified in your attitude displayed. I understand how you felt when facing the remnants of the Vietnam war.

Perhaps you don’t know that from the early years at primary school, Vietnamese children are taught how horrible the Vietnam war is. This is to educate Vietnamese children to treasure peace. Another thing is that some Vietnamese generations have no experience of the war but they can perceive the consequences of that war, which are still pervasive in every corner of Vietnamese people’s life. However, we are taught that to be happy, we should free our heart from hatred.

I do agree with Joan’s saying in response to your writing that your guilty feeling makes no good. We should hand in hand “do all that we can to prevent these things from happening again.”

Best wishes to you,





Vu Van Thai

Lecturer of American Literature

The University of Social Sciences and Humanities, HCMC

Email: vuvanthai@gmail.com

Tel. 0913.703281

–

I still think a lot about Vietnam and the issues surrounding our history. Vu Van Thai and the other commenters have helped me realize that we need to move forward with more open minds and optimism, and that it is possible to have respect and concern for the past without preserving feelings of guilt or shame.

We're now making our way across the Pacific toward Honolulu. Classes are in full swing again, which has made it hard to keep up with this blog. I haven't forgotten about it, though, and I will post about China and Japan as soon as I have some time free.

I do want to share a few moments from yesterday before they fade from my memory. It was close to sunset, and I was eating dinner on one of the outside aft decks with friends when a group gathered along the port side railing. We got out of our seats to see what was up. A small slice of rainbow had formed, touching the water and rising up from the horizon line about 20 degrees. As we watched, the slice of color got brighter against the darkening sky and an echoing double rainbow appeared. They both got more vivid for a couple of minutes, and were bright enough to be reflected off the water. Suddenly, the rainbow exploded upward and I watched as the full arc rose high above and over the ship. The reflections in the water continued the arc, forming a circle around the ship. We sailed toward the center of the circle for a short while, and then the rainbow faded and dark clouds overhead opened up into warm rain. The rain lasted for several minutes, until the clouds fell back behind us. We watched the sun set behind us, lighting up the water and silhouetting the small group of albatrosses that have been following our ship. They weaved back and forth behind the ship in slow zigzags, gliding smoothly and enjoying our slipstream. The sun disappeared below the horizon, though it was still bright enough to light the watercolor rain clouds that surrounded us, and the distant rain came down in smeared grey lines, darkening patches of the skyline. Night fell, and as the first stars emerged I thought to myself that I had just witnessed something majestically orchestrated, that the sky had articulated a feeling or story that would have been impossible to phrase in words.

Vietnam

I'm scrambling to catch up with my blogging. We just left China, and I'm taking some time to reflect on Vietnam. Vietnam was fascinating but challenged me in some difficult ways.

Like most Americans, Vietnam is strongly tied in my mind to war. I think that comes mostly from being raised by the generation who was directly affected. In the pre-port lecture before we arrived, one of our teachers broke into tears as she read an interview with a Vietnamese girl who described some of the horrors of the war. When she was finished, the interport lecturer from Vietnam came up to the mic to respond, and he cried too. He offered these words of comfort: “We cannot change our history, but we can change our attitude.” He went on to say that present day Vietnamese people are very welcoming of Americans because of our friendly economic relations, and also because much of the population was born after the war and doesn't have any memory of it. He was right, I suppose. We received a warm welcome everywhere we went. One student mentioned to me that it also helped that we were in South Vietnam, in the regions that the US troops were allied with during the war.

Despite the friendliness from the Vietnamese people, I struggled with some really painful and conflicting emotions while we were in port. I can't help but associate Vietnam's natural forest landscape with images of war and destruction. I tried really hard to appreciate its beauty but I don't think I was there for long enough to really separate those feelings.

On our first day in the country, a lot of us visited the War Remnants Museum. It tells the story of the Vietnam War (known as the “American War” to the Vietnamese) from Vietnam's perspective. There's obviously some horrific and terrifying stories to be told. Most of the museum featured photography and articles from the war time. One photo of Vietnamese prisoners was accompanied by a recounting of the American photographer. He described how he came across a group of prisoners that was about to be executed. He shouted to the soldiers to wait so he could take the photo. After he snapped the photo and walked away, he heard the guns fire and saw their bodies fall out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't turn to look.

I also remember a letter from Ho Chi Minh to the American people. He thanked the American citizens that opposed and protested the. He said that America was hurting itself just as much as Vietnam, and stated that Vietnam's goal was to keep peace and simply provide for its people.

There were some terrible photographs and specimens of people who were affected and deformed by Agent Orange and the other chemical weapons. They also had recreations of instruments of torture, and a Vietnamese man showed his young kid (maybe 5 years old) how they worked, which shocked me.

At the end of the museum, they had a gallery full of artwork by young kids, showing their interpretations of peace and love, and that provided a little bit of solace. There was also a guestbook of sorts, which included a lot of strongly anti-American sentiments from international visitors. I noticed that very few Americans wrote in the book, and I wanted to put something down that would have been both sensitive and supportive, but also stand up for my country and culture and show that we're not all violent and ignorant. I really couldn't think of a way to do that after being exposed to such horrific things that were done in the name of my country. It's something I'm still struggling with.

My experiences of daily life in Ho Chi Minh City were a lot less intense. The city (formerly called Saigon) is really modern and comfortable for us. Almost all the traffic is made up of motorcycles, and crossing the street was always thrilling. The stream of traffic is pretty much constant so you just work up the nerve and step out into the street. As long as you keep up a steady pace, the motorcycles will kind of part ways like water around a stick and you make it to the other side shaken but safe.

A big tourist attraction in Vietnam is the Cu Chi tunnels, which are a network of underground tunnels that the Viet Kong used for guerilla warfare against the French and Americans during their respective wars. It's mindblowing. The tunnels are barely wide enough to move in, and soldiers spent up to 24 continuous hours underground. Besides their strategic uses, the Vietnamese troops used the tunnels to instill paranoia and psychological havoc on their enemies. American troops would describe setting down a can of coke, turning away for a moment, and having it disappear before they could turn back around. The Viet Kong were nicknamed “Night Ghosts” or “Night Rats” because of their stealth and omniscience. We got the chance to crawl through a couple of the tunnels that had been widened. One was pitch black and bats fluttered by my head as I crawled through.

Jonathan and I had an overnight trip to the Mekong Delta. It was very cool and included a couple of lengthy boat trips along the waterways. They're busy and used as a main type of transportation for merchants. We visited a floating market, which is basically a gigantic huddle of boats and people exchange fruits and crafts. They maneuver deftly and we all cringed as they swung around turns and missed other boats by centimeters. Each boat has eyes painted on the front to scare away crocodiles. We also visited a facility that cooked and prepared popped rice snacks, which is a complex process that is hard to describe but fascinating.

On the last day, a few of us visited a school for the blind. We got to interact with elementary school-aged kids. It was difficult to overcome the communication barrier, because I've usually relied on gestures and miming to communicate with the kids in countries so far. We found that music was a good way to break down the barriers, so we traded songs and improvised by drumming and kazooing.

Vietnam was definitely thought-provoking. I wish it didn't have to be so painful. I'm even conflicted about whether it should have been painful. Is it appropriate for me to feel guilty? I know that I'll keep on thinking about the country and all these issues for a long time. There was no real closure or breakthrough that left me feeling completely satisfied or comfortable with my time there. I'll just keep on trying to come up with some answers or conclusions. That's really all there is to say.


- - -

We reach Japan the day after tomorrow. I'll post about my time in China as soon as I can. Thanks for reading and staying in touch.

Thailand, Day 2-5

I'm laughing because I just re-read my post from day one and I need to make a correction. The roads in Thailand are not sane or safe at all. It was about 24 hours after that post when we got in an accident while we rode in one of those “comfortable” pickup truck taxis. The crash wasn't a big deal. Actually, thinking back on it, it's proof that we've encountered some ridiculous traffic because our reaction wasn't any kind of fear or shock, but instead annoyance that we'd have to sit there and wait while the drivers argued.

On day two, I had another SaS trip to “Sri Racha Tiger Zoo and Mini Siam”. The tiger zoo visit turned out to be the first thing on this whole voyage that I regret seeing. It's a privately owned facility that keeps about 200 tigers, and also farms 1000 crocodiles and some elephants. It would be shut down with one glance from PETA. The tigers are kept in cages that are barely big enough for two steps, and they just pace in circles frantically. There are shows where the trainers kind of smack them around and make them jump through a ring of fire. The crocodile show was similarly upsetting...trainers pulled them around by their tails, and poked them in the eyes with poles until they snapped their jaws. Across from the crocodile stadium, a stand sells crocodile meat. It makes me really sad to think about that place so I'm going to move on. (Mini Siam was kind of cool...it's a big outdoor area that has scale models of monuments around the world. I'd say it's worth seeing if you find yourself near Laem Chabang.)

OK. Thailand. Now that I've left, where should I start?

Taylor and I took a bus into Bangkok for a two-night visit. We stayed at the Sawasdee Krungthep Inn, on Khaosan road, which is a big hub for travelers. It was wild. It's the first place we've seen on this voyage that has been so full of people of different nationalities, all thrown together and just united by the fact that we're all on the move, and mostly pretty poor. There were shops on the road proclaiming “We buy anything!” The street was busy all hours of the day and night, and we had some great cheap Thai food. A new favorite: mango with sticky rice, which is slices of mango on top of buttered rice, with coconut milk on top.

The inn was basic, but had a ton of personality. It had this cute hairball in the sink and the bathroom floor was just a little flooded all the time, so we tracked bathroom floor water around the room and it was adorable.

Bangkok is nuts. There's a startling contrast between intensely weird stuff that is a hundred times more disturbing than what we saw in Pattaya, but also temples and other places of worship that are revered with the highest respect. We got to see the Grand Palace, which was historically the residence of Thailand's kings since the 18th century. It's still used for royal ceremonies, and the buildings have the most intricate details that shimmer and seem to glow. There are shrines to Buddhas in the Thai styling, which is pretty different than the chubby kind that I'm used to seeing. Around the border of the Grand Palace there paintings that tell the religious history, and they're detailed with gold leaf.

Close to the Grand Palace is Wat Pho, which is home to the famous Reclining Buddha. It's huge (46 m long, 15 m high) and painted in gold.

We were around the temples in the afternoon, when many of them close their doors to tourists, and because of that we got a more authentic experience than a lot of travelers. There were monks passing through, and we overheard some chanting.

Thailand is the first place we've been that has a market for pirated media and electronics. You get in a mindset where you start to question the authenticity of everything you see. I caught myself wondering, “Is that a real KFC restaurant or a knockoff?”

We also saw the first Engrish of the journey. Here's the cover of the official tourist map of Bangkok:
***
“ SIAM BANGKOK MAP ” allows you to travel to the destination. Do not fear astray, Because all of the roads in Bangkok Intersection Number. Please note Intersection number sticker stuck at traffic police booth or tag intersection. Simply carry this map to travel through time, will enjoy more fun.
***
All things considered, I had a fun time in Thailand but I feel like I didn't connect with the locals to the same level as some of the other countries so far. Some students felt that Thai people were closed off, but I think it was just because we were in such a touristy area, and American visitors aren't a special event like in India.

A couple last things I don't want to forget:
The first tour guide we had told us “smile from the heart.” He said Thai people recognize and appreciate a genuine smile, and I felt that was a very warm way to welcome us to the country.

I've had a similar conversation in a few countries so far. People ask about our trip, and we tell them about all the different places we're visiting, and I usually return the question, “where have you traveled? Have you been to the US?” People tend to respond by saying that they'd love to travel but they've never had the opportunity or the money to do so. It's a sad moment, because I can tell that some people want so badly to see other parts of the world, but they may never get the chance. I'm realizing (again) that I am extremely fortunate to be able to travel the way I am, and I remind myself every day now not to take it for granted. I was going to write this as an email but I think I'd like everyone to see it:

        Mom and Dad,
        Thank you endlessly for all the support and help that let me be on this trip. You've again given me the world.
        You've both shown a lot of trust in me to be safe, and that means a lot to me. Now that I've reached the halfway point, I feel like I'm on my way home, and one of the things I'm looking forward to most is sharing my memories with you. It's one way I hope I can give back a little bit of this gift-of-a-lifetime voyage.



That's all for now. Vietnam in in two days!

As the Thai say... Sawa Dee Kap!

Thailand, Day 1

Thailand! Before we arrived, I didn't know what to expect. My first impression of the country was surprise at how modern and developed it is. After India, the sane driving and clean air are very welcome. We're docked in Laem Chabang, which is pretty industrial and not tourist friendly, as far as I can tell. Today I stepped off the ship and right onto an SaS service visit to the Pattaya Orphanage in the city of Pattaya. It's a privately funded Catholic facility that houses about 160 orphans and 40 deaf children. They all attend public school although the program provides tutors and other academic help. There's a wide variety of ages, because there is no set age at which the orphans must leave. They make the decision themselves, and some stay until early adulthood. After a brief introduction to the program, we waited in the outside playground area for the kids' recess to start. The kids came out and approached us easily. I guess volunteer visits are routine. They were way way cute. Mostly four or five years old, and they didn't speak any english, but it's amazing how easy it is to communicate with kids without using language. The orphanage provided us with some toys, and one little guy came up and immediately grabbed my hand and I spent almost the entire time with him, blowing bubbles and giving him piggyback rides. They all seemed pretty happy and well taken care of.

 

We also got a chance to interact with some of the toddlers, which was cool but I don't have an easy of a time taking care of them. I guess I need to see more babies.

 

A few of us opted to stay in Pattaya after the service visit, rather than return to the ship. We wandered around the city, which is touristy and frankly pretty sleazy. Without going into detail, I'll just mention that Thailand has a booming sex tourism industry, and it's not the most pleasant thing to be in the middle of. We did get a chance to have our first real Thai food, which is awesome. In addition to eating some great restaurant food, we stopped by a fruit stand and bought a bunch of unfamiliar fruits. They were all delicious and I'll need to show people pictures to find out what exactly we ate.

 

Indian-style rickshaws don't exist here. Instead they have pickup trucks with benches on either side of the flatbed, which are actually really comfortable. I know I said this already, but it's such a relief to be on safer roads.

 

Well that's all to report for now. I'll post again soon.

India, Day 3-5

Day three started off with a bang...my first ride in an auto rickshaw, which is basically a three-wheeled motorcycle with a metal shell around the outside. I think the rickshaw rides alone are reason enough to visit India. Anyone that has been to the country will understand when I describe the traffic as “graceful chaos”. Although everyone completely ignores road signs, lines, and rules, the traffic obeys its own kind of laws. Traffic flows like liquid, just pouring into whatever open space there is. Drivers use the horn brilliantly as a kind of echolocation, and a lot of the horns have a singsong tone that makes the comical. Roads with two lanes end up accommodating four or five vehicles side by side, and stop signs and lights are totally ignored. Somehow it all works, and it's so much fun.

 

The first excursion we took was to Spencer Mall, which is a gigantic shopping center that we were told we shouldn't miss. It's weird, in a cool way. The building is maybe seven floors, and a complete maze of hallways, loops, and dead ends. Some parts felt like a mall in the U.S., but then you turn a corner and you're in a skinny bazaar alley with tiny shops and merchants. It went on and on.

 

Some friends from Semester at Sea had exchanged contact info with some students they had met at the welcome reception, and we made plans to meet them that afternoon. The plan was to meet them to see an Indian film, and they trusted us to buy tickets to whatever sounded good. The only film that wasn't sold out was called “Thee”, and the students were totally disappointed when they found out that's what we would be seeing. “Thee” is...basically trash. It's in Chennai's local language (Tamil), and it's made and released only in Tamil Nadu. They crank these movies out in very little time, with a minimal budget, and they're shown in a small region for a short while, after which they disappear completely. I believe they release 2-3 films like this every week, and they usually make a fortune. I can't even describe how awfully bad it was. Completely cheesy and exaggerated, with all the dialogue overdubbed with shouted lines. I feel like I was yelled at throughout the whole film. The film was some kind of revenge story about a cop/politician, with a couple of dance numbers thrown in. The guys we met insisted that we shouldn't judge Indian films by what we saw that night. We left at the intermission (“Thee” is three hours long). I actually had a great time, mostly because I could hardly believe what was being forced on us.

 

Meeting and hanging out with the SRM University students turned out to be one of the most rewarding things we've one so far. They were such gracious hosts (one had to ask me to stop thanking him for things). They took us out to dinner for two nights, and showed us Chennai's beach at night, which was beautiful. Like at the welcome reception, we clarified more stereotypes about each other's cultures. (One asked me if everyone in the U.S. owns a gun.) Guys, if you're reading, thank you a thousand more times for helping us feel at home in your country. We're making it a goal to meet university students in every country from now on, because our experience with you was so fantastic.

 

The last thing for me to mention is another SaS trip called “Rural India and DakshinaChitra Heritage Villiage”. We took a bus into one of the rural villages, which was awesome to see but the actual trip was structured to be a little touristy. We got to step into a home and talk about the prayer rooms that are commonly included. Some people got to try their hand at cultivating rice plants and climbing coconut trees. We also got carted around by bulls. Interesting, but the trip didn't offer much interaction with the local people. [A word of advice for students planning on studying through Semester at Sea: be aware that the trips sold through SaS (except for home-stays) are often touristy and may not give you much immersion into the cultures. Be sure to keep a good balance between SaS trips and independent travel.]

 

So that was how I spent my time in India. It was too quick. I'm still turning it all around in my mind, but so far I know that I felt the safest and most comfortable in India of all the ports we've visited. Although I wish I could have stayed longer than those five short days, I'm also the most satisfied with the short visit, because I have such a strong feeling that I'll be returning to India. I'm really drawn to its unique balance between vitality, goofiness, pain, the ancient and modern, desperation but also satisfaction and humility. My glimpse of India was hypnotically compelling and I can't wait to go back.

 

We reach Thailand tomorrow. We're now halfway through the entire voyage, and the pace quickens from here on. In the next 26 days, we have only 6 days at sea, with classes. So I'm taking a deep breath and preparing myself for the plunge.

 

Thanks to everyone who has been keeping in touch. I do miss some folks at school and at home. Especially a few people that are studying abroad as well. If you have a free moment, I'd love to hear how you're doing. Also, I feel like I've gotten a pretty good handle on Semester at Sea by this point, so I'm happy to answer any questions about the program if you're planning on sailing or just curious. I love you all.

India, Day 2

I'm writing after our second day in India. I was on a full-day tour of Kancheepuram and Mamallapuram cities. I'm going to be lazy and copy/paste the trip description, just for historical background:

---
“Kancheepuram or “Golden City”is one of the seven most sacred places of pilgrimage for Hindus. Once known as
the "City of a Thousand Temples,"there are still over 100 shrines in the environs of Kancheepuram. The most
important are the "living"temples where the practice of worship continues today. See the 7th and 8th century
paintings on the walls of the 1200-year-old Kailasanatha Temple. View the ten-storied, intricately sculptured tower
of the 16th-century Ekambareswara Temple. Visit the Hall of 96 Pillars and see the handsome pavilions at
Vaikuntanatha Temple. Kancheepuram is also famous for its traditional art of silk weaving. 

Mamallapuram (Mahabalipuram) is an ancient port city of the Pallava kings. Apart from being a popular beach
resort, it is famous for three major sights of great architectural and artistic merit. See the 1200-year-old Shore
Temple standing in solitary splendor on the sand of the shoreline. Visit the Five Rathas, named after the Pandava
brothers, heroes of the Mahabharata. These large stone edifices are sculptured and shaped into temple prototypes. 
Then view the biggest bas-relief in the world, Arjuna's Penance, which portrays the descent of the Ganges from
Siva's locks and other fables from the Panchatantra. “
---

It was fascinating. The temples themselves are exquisite...carved with a level of detail so deep that they've withstood centuries. We heard a lot of the religious histories of the different shrines. It impressed me that each holy place has such a complex story behind its creation. It makes you immediately treat a place with reverence when you know the intricate tradition behind it.

In one of the bas-relief edifices in Mamallapuram, we got swarmed with school kids who were there on a field trip. They rushed at everyone in our group, demanded to know our names, and posed for picture after picture. Each time we took a photo, they'd crowd around the camera's screen and erupt with laughter when the picture came up on display. These kids were enthusiastic and friendly to a degree that was almost frightening.

I got exposed to some of the darker stuff today. We saw some homeless folks that were in pretty bad shape. The beggars and merchants I saw today approached us with a kind of desperation that I haven't seen in any of the other countries so far. I think I understand the word “beggar”in a new context...as in begging and pleading. So right now I'm going through what every person feels the first time they visit India and get exposed to that. Just, trying to reconcile it is difficult. I think I'll be able to write more clearly about it when I've reflected a little more.

I still feel like I haven't been immersed fully yet. Tomorrow I'll be traveling independently of any organized trips, and I think that will be when I actually get connected to the country in an even deeper sense. The last two days have been baby steps.
Namaste.

India, Day 1

We just finished our first day in India. I'm going to try to write daily from now on to make sure everything is fresh in my memory, and to keep from getting backlogged like I did with the South Africa post (which is still underway, and will be posted eventually).
So, finally, India.
It hit me last night as I sat in the logistical pre-port presentation. I was actually going to be in India. The country and culture have been such a huge part of my whole life (because of my mom's connection through her studies of Indian music), and the excitement just built and built last night when I realized that I was going to finally experience it. It's funny...I know way more about India than I thought. During the presentation I kept making connections in my mind, little cultural things I knew I should do, bits of Hindi slang, memories of music and religion and interactions that are actually a part of me, but just beneath the surface, underused.
I can't explain this, but as the boat slowed down in our approach to Chennai, I felt like I was going home.
In the morning, I was just thrown right in to an organized trip to SRM University, which is an engineering school, to see a performance by MICE (Mobile Interactive Computer Ensemble). MICE is a class that is taught on the ship, that fuses computer and human interaction to create experimental music, which often incorporates environmental data and electronic instruments. The bus ride to the university lasted about an hour, and as we drove through Chennai, I got to see firsthand a lot of the things I've heard about for so long. Cows in the street, three-wheeled rickshaws, homeless children and beggars, goofy billboards, daring traffic...but all from a distance. The drive just whet my appetite to go and explore the city by foot, which I'll get the chance to do tomorrow.
The concert's music and accompanying lecture were very interesting (definitely check out www.burtner.net/MICE.html for info about the group), but the most valuable part of the trip was the chance to interact with the university students. There were at least a couple hundred students there for the performance, and afterwards I got the chance to talk to a few, and exchange info to keep in touch.
Indian people are cool. This probably isn't news to anyone reading this. But it still surprises me and inspires me just how laid back and friendly this culture is. I felt like I fit right in in that group (maybe because the crowd was mostly made up of computer geeks). It was a great first firsthand impression of India.
We returned to the ship for a quick dinner and then left again to attend a welcome reception in the city. It was basically a meet-and-greet with Indian university students, over Indian food, and with a Bharatanatyam dance performance. It was one of the most fun experiences of the trip so far. Along with a small group of Semester at Sea students, I sat down with three young Indian guys and we talked for a couple of hours about...a lot of things. We compared our respective culture's views on politics, relationships, art and anything else that came to mind. It was really valuable for me because I've always had the adult perspective on Indian culture, but I've never had the chance to talk to someone my age about it all. Some things make a lot more sense to me now. We had a long conversation about arranged marriages, and the guys brought up some points that made me think about it in a new way. First, they explained that the bride-and-groom-to-be do have a lot of choice in the matter. It's not just the parents to put people together, it's really a joint decision between the entire families of both parties. The students also tried to explain the reason why arranged marriages have such a high “success rate”when compared to the high divorce rate in the US. They explained that, in the US, the husband and wife often try to fix every issue on their own, and when they are unable to, they give up on the marriage. The guys told us that in India, the families of the husband and wife are very involved in the marriage, and the mother and father will step in and provide support. After that conversation, I have a deeper respect for that aspect of the culture.
       What else did we talk about...it's blurring together a little bit. Elections are about to happen in India, and we talked about the levels of excitement surrounding that. We recounted what it was like to follow the presidential election in the US. They suggested some Bollywood musicals that we'll hopefully get a chance to see before we leave. They dispelled some myths about Indian culture, and tried to explain the meaning of the head-bob (the subtle bobblehead movement that's somewhere between a nod and a shrug). I still don't quite understand it.
       So that was my first day in India. I'm looking forward to exploring more and taking the next step of immersion. So far, it's magical, intriguing, refreshing, and moving. I'm finally here.
       I'll post again soon. I know that I'm on the verge of a very special experience.

Working on it

Hi all
I'm still putting together my blog for South Africa (and now Mauritius too). Sit tight, it'll be done soon. Thank you very much for the emails and comments thus far!

Namibia

My time in South Africa is almost over, and I'm finally able to set aside some time to reflect on Namibia and my experiences there. Here are some lasting impressions of the country:

My first impression of Namibia was surprise and gratitude at how warmly we were welcomed. I feel like everyone wanted to talk to us and shake our hand. People on the street, vendors, and workers would stop what they were doing to ask where we were from, and if we liked their country. Walvis Bay and Swakopmund (a German colonial town) seemed relaxed and friendly, especially compared to the hustle of Marrakech in Morocco. As Jonathan pointed out, once the vendors realized we weren't going to buy, they were happy to light up a cigarette and talk to us.

In the one of the pre-port lectures before we arrived, a professor mentioned the notion that Namibia is considered a young country. It's called “young”for two reasons. Namibia just gained its independence in 1990, after a long history of oppression by Germany and South Africa. It's also called “young”because AIDS has taken a serious toll on the population. It is estimated that one in five people have HIV/AIDS, and half of the population is under 20 years old. The epidemic, combined with the harsh desert climate that covers most of the country, makes Namibia the second most sparsely-populated country in the world, after Mongolia. Namibia is twice the size of California, but it has a population smaller than Chicago.

The people of Namibia seem proud and overjoyed to be free. When I waved to a local man who was walking on the opposite side of the street, he responded by throwing his arms in the air and shouting “this is freedom!”A couple of people I spoke to, who were in the country when it became independent, spoke of the transition with obvious reverence and pride. Despite this, there are some ugly remnants of the apartheid system left over in the forms of racism and voluntary segregation. We met a group of white, college-aged Namibians at a bar on the first night. They were very friendly toward us, but expressed deep hatred for black Namibians. One of them told us to look around the restaurant, and to notice that all the tables were separated by race. He said that if a black person were to sit down at a white table, or vice versa, a riot would have broken out instantaneously.

I don't really have a sense of how widespread that kind of racism is. One of the young guys we spoke to swore that everyone in Namibia felt the same way, but that seems unlikely to me. Still, for the rest of our stay, I kept an eye out for friendly interactions between white and black locals. I didn't see any. (If anyone reading is familiar with these kinds of racial issues in Africa, please share your knowledge in the comments).

I was impressed by Namibia's progressive legal foundations. It's the only constitution to include the protection of the environment (I believe 15% of the country's land is government-protected). It also includes compulsory education for children. Most of the country's government money is spent on its schools.

Namibia's natural settings are breathtaking. The ocean meets the Namib desert abruptly, so on one side of the road you can look out and see the ocean and its marine life, and the other side is endless stretches of sand dunes. I had some fantastic opportunities to see both types of land. I was part of a desert tour in 4X4 vans that took us through the desert. It was really otherworldly. The rock formations are alien and beautiful. There wasn't much animal life to see, besides one lonely springbok (kind of like an antelope). There was, however, some fascinating vegetation. Our tour guide pointed out which plants were healing or poisonous, and which ones were moisture-filled and could be used for survival. We also spent some time examining a certain kind of flowering plant that has extreme longevity. The one we saw was around 600 years old, but they've been known to live for as long as 2000 years. The exact names are escaping me right now but I'll check and post them soon.

The desert is also home to the “singing rocks”, which are boulders that have high iron content. If you hit them with another rock, they ring like bells. My music/sound professor was also on the excursion, and we organized and recorded an impromptu “rock concert”.

The Namib desert only gets a few millimeters of rainfall each year, such a small amount that it's hardly worth mentioning. We were there during one of the extremely rare periods of rain, and I felt a few drops fall. While the clouds ruined our chances for stargazing, it was very special to experience rain there.

I also got an incredible chance to see some of Namibia's ocean life. We took a tour known as the “seal and dolphin encounter”, in a small boat that traveled quite a distance from the harbor. Some of the cape fur seals have discovered that they can get an easy meal from those boats, so they jump right up onto the boat to be fed. We got to pet and feed them. Somehow they remind me of big dogs, mostly because of the way our guide interacted with them (petting them and scolding them when they didn't behave). Our guide could also called out to the local brown pelicans, who flew along side the boat and let her toss fish in their mouth. I have a hilariously timed picture of a pelican stretching its gular pouch right before it caught a fish. A haviside's dolphin swam alongside our boat for a while. It poked its head above water a few times, eyeing the boat. We also saw an ocean sunfish, which are the heaviest bony fishes in the world. It was hard to see under the water, except for a few moments when I could grasp its hugeness. They weigh an average of one ton.

During the boat trip, our guide pointed out a Russian ship that was sitting still in the water. Its crew had a license to fish for one specific type of fish, but they illegally broke the agreement and fished for rarer (and more expensive) fish. They were caught, and the crew is forced to remain on the ship until the court proceedings are finished. They've been there for ten months already, and it could take as long as three years. Each fisherman is allowed one day on land per month, with a police escort. Pretty intense.

Insane drivers aren't confined to Morocco. In Namibia it's the taxi drivers you have to watch out for. I don't think we took a single legitimate taxi during our three days there. They were just local guys in normal cars, with a small “taxi”sign in the window. They consistently drove 40 km/h over the speed limit, and would take down the taxi sign when if they passed a cop.

I look back on my time in Namibia with fondness. It was the most welcoming country on the voyage thus far. Friendly, beautiful, and frankly surprising. Namibia was a blank slate in my mind before we arrived, and now I wish the country's strengths were more widely known. I also wish I had been able to spend more time there, to get a deeper sense of the culture. I will definitely want to return there if and when I can get back to southern Africa.

I'm finishing this post as we're about to leave South Africa, which has been an absolutely amazing experience. I'm working hard to keep up with my writing, and I'll hopefully have a South Africa post ready in a couple of days. I'm also experimenting with ways to post photos from our limited internet access. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

Between Countries

This is just a quick post to let everyone know that I survived and loved Namibia. I haven't had a chance to put a blog together for Namibia yet...today has been a whirlwind introduction to South Africa (we arrive tomorrow) but I promise to write all about my experiences in both countries after I'm back on the ship on the 22nd. Thanks for keeping up, and I'm sorry to make you wait.
Peace and love.

Pre-'Nib

Our journey from Morocco to Namibia has flown by. It's really fascinating how time passes differently on the ship. The days start blurring together and I've find myself wondering...when was that conversation? Last night? Two nights ago? It's probably because I've grown into a very steady daily rhythm and schedule. I'll wake up from a nap, the room is pitch dark as always, and I have to check my watch to see what day it is. Sometimes I worry that I'm letting time pass too quickly, but then I look at the calendar and realize that we're still just getting started.
We reach Walvis Bay, Namibia tomorrow. I have some fantastic things planned for my three days there, and I can't wait to get started. After Namibia, we have one day of sailing before Cape Town, South Africa. Like before, I'll try to blog in between countries.
Happy early Valentine's Day everyone! Share the love!

Neptune Day

We crossed the equator yesterday. The water wasn't quite clear enough for me to see the white line but I did feel a bump when we went over it. The water totally spins the other way down the drain.

It's an old maritime tradition to initiate new sailors (Pollywogs) who are crossing the equator for the first time. So here on the ship they take a day off classes to celebrate Neptune Day. Every student received a summons to appear before King Neptune and his court. We all pledged allegiance to Neptune (painted green, pretty sure he was the captain with a long wig). Then we underwent a baptism of sorts (traditionally sailors are dunked in fish guts...tasted like iced tea to me). Then a rinse in the pool, and I kissed the fish (tasted like fish to me). Then the biggie: volunteers had their heads shave. I volunteered and I'm now a very bald Son of Neptune. It actually an OK look for me, who'da thunk?

Some people at Chapman will be happy to hear that the MoD Squad (mediocre dance squad) had a successful first meet. We definitely got noticed and we're hoping for a much bigger turnout next time.

That's the news. My head is cold so I'm going to go find a hat.

Moroccan Rockin'

I'm back on the ship for our second long stretch at sea. It's about 8 days until we reach Namibia so I have some time to settle back into life on the ship and catch up with the bloggin'.

We were supposed to refuel the ship in Gibraltar during the day between Spain and Morocco. Unfortunately, we hit rough waters and they couldn't carry out the refueling operation so our arrival in Casablanca was delayed one day. It was kind of welcome, though, because everyone was so exhausted after Spain and we could all catch up on some sleep. To keep us entertained, the ship organized a LOST premiere party (awesome episodes) and a second open mic night.

When we finally did pull in to Casablanca, the captain made a rare appearance on the loudspeaker and warned us of rough seas. We had to do some kind of sharp turn and the ship went crazy with the rocking. I was in the cafeteria and a whole bunch of dishes fell and shattered, most of the books in the library fell of the shelves, furniture was thrown around...the port lights in Casablanca would disappear over the tops of the windows, and as the ship rocked they would fall beneath our level of sight. It was exciting and only a little scary.

I had signed up for a multi-night trip to camp out in a Berber village inside the Sahara, and then spend an evening in a hotel in Marrakech. Since our stay in Morocco was shortened by one day, we had a lot of ground to cover on the first day. The distance to our camp in Ouarzazate was about a seven hour drive. Our bus (one of four) held about fifteen people, and together we shared an unforgettable ride. The driver was...well I can't say he was a bad driver. In fact he had to have been very skilled to pull off his style of driving without killing anybody. He basically drove like the devil was on his tail, pushing the gas as much as it would go, stopping for nothing, and taking every opportunity to pass even if that meant driving into headlong traffic. The funny thing is that no other driver or pedestrian seemed phased by it. People in the cities seem to pick a time to cross, and just slowly walk at a steady pace until they reach the other side. They don't bat an eye when a bus shoots by, a few centimeters from them.

Once we were out of Casablanca, the city bustle disappeared and we traveled through rolling hilly countryside. My first exposure to the African landscape was lush and green. We passed villages with stone buildings, shepherds with flocks of sheep, and travelers riding donkeys. To reach the desert, we crossed over the Atlas mountain range, which is snowy and beautiful. Our driver sped through the windy mountain roads (sometimes with guard rails, sometimes without) at the fastest possible speed without tipping the bus over. We were pushing 100 km/h. He didn't speak any english, but when he sensed that we were all white-knuckled with anxiety, he decided to calm us down with music. He had three mix CDs with panflute covers of the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, and Abba. So we all sang along and tried not to think about plummeting to our doom. I've heard lots of stories about crazy drivers in other countries, but no one ever told me how fun of an experience it actually is.

We arrived in the desert after dark, and after about 20 minutes of off-road driving. The camp was situated in a little oasis with a stream and surrounded by trees. Our hosts welcomed us (in English) and sat us down for dinner. The food we had in Morocco was mostly variations on potatoes and different kinds of meat, cooked in cone-shaped pottery called tarjiins (not sure how to spell it). It was tasty. After dinner, one of the hosts announced that we would be treated to some music. I thought that sounded cool, because I had been wanting some exposure to Moroccan musical culture. I was surprised and a little disappointed to find out that the music would actually be a DJ playing American dance and hiphop. I guess that's when I figured out that our Berber village was really more of a well-disguised tourist attraction. Still, a gasoline-powered dance party in the desert is probably a once in a lifetime experience. That night we slept in tents and I was woken the next morning by the sound of unfamiliar birds.

The next day we reversed direction and headed back to spend the day in Marrakech. The city is home to one of the busiest squares in all of Africa, called Djemaa el Fna. It's just packed with merchants, craftsmen, snake charmers, acrobats, beggars, and thieves, apparently. The ship gave an extensive scare-tactics lecture about pickpockets before we arrived in Morocco, so me and everyone else were overly paranoid about being robbed...to the point where I didn't really let myself connect with anybody as deeply as I should have.

I think the techniques that the vendors use to trap customers are hilarious and fascinating. Sometimes they'll give you a “Welcome to Marrakech! Here we shake your hand!”and once you grab it they hold on to you and lead you over to their stand. Or they'll say hello, wait for you to respond, then they quickly glance behind your shoulder and shout “Look! Look! Over there!”like they've just seen the world's most shocking and exciting thing, which turns out to be their stand. Sometimes it's as simple as shouting “Obama!”and hoping you'll stop and talk. I had heard about the trick of pretending to walk away like you're not going to buy, in order to get their lowest price. They've gotten tricky about it, though. They'll let you walk really far away from their stall, but invisibly follow you for five or ten minutes as you walk down the alley, hoping that you'll turn back if you think your bluff failed. If you don't, they'll grab your shoulder in the crowd and lead you back to their stall with the lower price.

In that market, I ran into the scariest moment of the trip so far. Myself and a few friends from the trip were hovering by one of the stalls, waiting for a couple other friends to finish a purchase. The guy at the stall near us got annoyed that we weren't buying from him, and he asked where we were from. When he heard, he started a rant in broken english about how he hated Americans. He called us American terrorists and Bush-babies. Later, he demonstrated one of his machetes by swinging it towards our heads, and stopping it a few inches away from each of our throats. To his credit, he did spare the girl in our group. He played off all of his sword-swinging as a joke, but after his earlier comments I wasn't so sure. From that moment on, we were careful about who we told we were American. If they looked mean, we were Canadian.

That night our tour guides brought us to dinner at “Chez Ali,”which is sort of like the Medieval Times of Morocco. During our dinner, groups of drummers and chanters would come in and out, play and dance for a couple minutes, and leave. I was happy to hear some traditional music, but the performers didn't seem like they were happy to be playing it. Especially the female dancers. After dinner, we all moved outside to see a horse show, with some acrobatics and gun-twirling charges. The horses didn't look too well taken care of, and to add to the weirdness of the whole thing, it was choreographed to the Star Wars imperial march, the Back to the Future theme, and I Will Survive. I left Chez Ali with the same kind of disappointment as I felt after the Berber village stay. I feel like I never got the chance to experience any authentic Moroccan culture during our time there. Instead, I felt like I was looking at imitations that were crafted to meet American expectations. So my experience of my first Semester at Sea organized trip seemed to sacrifice authenticity for safety and comfort. Which might not have been a bad thing in Morocco...who knows. I just feel glad that I have some more independent travel scheduled for future ports, because my experience traveling on our own in Spain was a lot more rewarding and satisfying.

We hit more intensely rough waters on the way out of Casablanca. This time we were ready to enjoy it, so a bunch of us sat down in the main lobby of the ship and slid around with the rocking. During the worst of it, we ended up in piles three people high. It was a ton of fun and I have some great videos of it. Surprisingly, all of us in the pileup escaped without injury, but walking around the ship for the last couple days, I've noticed a broken wrist, someone on crutches, and a shoulder in a sling.

So we're getting a little battered and tired, but everyone's spirits seem to still be really high. It will be nice to have a week of classes and other normality before we reach Namibia.

That's the scoop...thanks for reading! Please don't worry. Everything is cool.

Spain

Our time in Spain ended yesterday afternoon. It was an insanely full four days so I'll just jump right in from the beginning.

Jonathan and I woke up early on Wednesday morning expecting to watch the ship pull into port. We were surprised to look out the window, though, and see city lights. We were both so relieved to see land, and anxious to explore. I was speechless but Jonathan managed a simple “We're here!”
So we ate breakfast on the ship and watched the sun rise over Cádiz. It takes a long time to release everyone from the ship so I had a couple of hours to let the anticipation build before being set loose.

Historians say that Cádiz is probably the oldest town on the Iberian Peninsula (possibly as old as 1104 BC). It's small and quiet (“quaint” might be a good word). I spent the first few hours walking with a big group, amused by the skinny alleys streets and learning how to dodge traffic. We walked through a cool public park, saw some parrots, took a route by the bay. It didn't take long to realize that it's hard to keep a 20-person group together in a new city, so I broke off along with Jonathan, a guy called Tim (also from Chapman), and a girl called Cara (from San Francisco, who goes to UC Davis). We were hungry and now it's time for the food paragraph.

Spain has got it down, foodwise. Their approach and eating schedule is snack-centric and very cool. There is only one big meal per day (lunch) and Spaniards surround it with light meals and snacking sessions throughout the day. Snacks are called “tapas” and it's normal to go from restaurant to restaurant, ordering small plates of food. All the food we had during all four days was great, even if I just put my finger down on a menu and ordered blindly. Some of my favorites: croquetas (bullet shaped breaded snacks filled with potatoes and fish or pork), fantastic cheeses, a variety of great pastas, sandwiches, breads, chocolate con churros (a common breakfast item – churros with powdered sugar, dipped in rich melted chocolate), gelato, fancy cake, tomatoey meaty cheesy garlicy explosively yummy everything. Spain's bars are family-friendly and the waiters were pretty patient with us. I will miss it all.

Cádiz has a beautiful cathedral. It's about 70 meters tall and we took the stone spiral staircase to the top of one of the bell towers and looked down on the whole city. (I got some great photos and I can't wait to show them). Nearby the cathedral is an excavation site of Roman ruins, onto which they've built glass walkways.

We spent the rest of the first day exploring Cádiz's roads and beach area. Bob, the ship's audio/video guy, plays guitar fantastically and we heard him play with a jazz group in a bar in the evening. It was a simple day but it was exciting all the same.

Thursday was the beginning of our trip to Barcelona. It was a total fiasco every step of the way. A group of us (seven total) booked our flight and hostel together. We planned our departure for the airport  poorly and not everyone got the memo that our departure time had changed. So we stressed about finding everyone, hoping to not be late for the bus to the airport. Right when we finally got everyone together and found the right bus, it pulled away and no amount of waving and shouting would make it stop. We ended up piling into two taxis. We got to the airport with plenty of time to spare, but due to confusion with the online flight check-in, Taylor didn't make it on the flight. The worst part was that he was the last to try to board, so we didn't get a chance to talk to him about what he would do (since our seats were scattered throughout the flight, some of our group didn't even know he was missing until we arrived in Barcelona). I knew, and it was the worst flight ever. (Taylor ended up coming the next day, and he had a very positive attitude about the whole thing. Cool guy.) After we all got off the plane and freaked out about Taylor, we were faced with finding our hostel. After spending 40 minutes on a train which we weren't sure was the right one, we wandered around the Gothic portion of Barcelona for about 90 minutes. The hostel should have been a ten-minute walk from the train station, but we just kept on barely missing the right street. I think we asked a total of 7 people and a cop for directions but it turned out to be two French candy store owners who were able to really help.

Finally at the hostel, we dropped off our stuff and got in touch with Taylor by email. I was breathing a little easier at that point.

We spent the evening and night exploring the city and restaurant hopping. I really didn't know what to expect from Barcelona. It turns out to be a lot like New York City: busy, noisy, and awake all the time. It's funny how casually Spain seems to treat their ancient buildings. They build the modern urban stores and streets right up to their historical sites, as if a 17th century cathedral is an inconvenience that has to be accommodated. Barcelona was a little shocking after the previous day in quiet Cádiz. There was a 9-story store that puts our Wal-Marts to shame. We got back to the hostel at 12:30 a.m. after getting lost for an hour, even with a map.

Our second day in Barcelona was a lot less hectic. After breakfast at the hostel and a quick chocolate con churros, we spent some time in the Picasso museum, which was very inspiring and cool. It's one of his largest collections in the world, and along with displaying his finished works, also shows many of his sketches and sculptures. Afterwards, we took the underground metro to Park Güell, which was designed by Antoni Gaudí and is beautiful. It's worth Googling. Our time there was a very welcome breather. I recorded some audio and we finally got to just sit and take it easy for a little bit. We also met up with Taylor, who was a very welcome sight.

We took the metro to the 'Sagrada Familia', which is a breathtaking cathedral that is still under construction.  Gaudí worked on it for years until his death. His planning began in 1884, and it is scheduled to be completed in 2026. It's really impossible to describe...definitely look it up because it's magnificent.

The rest of the day was spent eating (the food is so, so good) and walking around the harbor area of town. We returned to the hostel for a quick siesta in the evening, and got to know our roommates (four English girls about our age). We traded slang words and tried to prove stereotypes wrong. We all left the hostel at around midnight, accidentally walked through a pretty sleazy part of town on the way back (I can tell you more about that in person), wandered into a nightclub on the pier, and got back to the hostel at 4:00 a.m. for a well-deserved two hours of sleep. Our train, plane, and taxis the next morning didn't give us any trouble on the way back to Cádiz. We spent our final few hours in Cádiz before boarding the ship. I actually grew really attached to Spain in only four days, and felt sad to leave. Overall, everyone there was very welcoming and gracious. Spain was probably the perfect country to visit first, because we learned a ton of lessons about traveling independently and our mistakes were without major consequences. The biggest lessons I learned were (1) partner up with a “buddy” who will look out for you and vice versa, (2) learn how to say “Excuse me” and “ship” in every language, (3) rely on people rather than maps and ticket machines to get around, and (4) heed all warnings about dangerous areas of cities, even if you've felt safe everywhere else.

Thanks for sticking with me through this massive post...I know it's a lot to take in at once, because it was a lot to take in throughout four days. Right now we're sitting in Gibraltar while the ship refuels, and planning our time in Morocco.

A side note: I feel pretty cut off from current events. If anyone has a moment, would you comment with the most important news headline you've read in the last week or so? That will help me feel like I still in touch and not too lost in this ship bubble. I'm especially interested in what Obama has been doing, whether Apple is surviving without Steve, and if anyone mentions LOST we will not be friends anymore.

Love to everyone!