Sarah Sets Sail

China

Tue, 06 Dec 2011 16:49:07 -0500

China was the first port in which the MV would be docking in two cities. We first docked in Hong Kong and then the ship sailed for two days to dock again Shanghai. Passengers had two choices: travel in the country for all six days and make your way to Shanghai alone or sail on the ship and lose two days exploring China. There was no way I was missing two days in China. Kaleigh and I hatched a somewhat crazy plan: to visit as much of China as possible in six days. It was our plan to visit Hong Kong, Guilin, Yangshuo, Beijing and Zhujiajiao.

DAY ONE - Hong Kong

The MV docked in Hong Kong on the Kowloon side, away from the more famous, tourist friendly, Hong Kong Island. Looking out my window towards the huge metropolitan island, I felt overwhelmed. We had been travelling non stop with only a couple days at sea and I was admittedly burnt out. The first thing I learned about Hong Kong is that they LOVE malls. So much so that the ship itself was docked at a mall. So when I left the ship and exited the gangway on deck five, I found myself inside a huge mall with only the most chic designer shops. Really quite a contrast from, say, the port in India or Ghana. This mall was insanely huge. They were building a Toy Story theme park. We walked around trying to find WIFI with no luck before returning to the ship in order to recover from our reverse culture shock. Hong Kong was organized, clean and wealthy. None of us were used to this kind of environment. After lunch, we decided to venture out into the area near the port instead of trying to catch the water taxi over to Hong Kong island. Amanda, Sarah and I weren’t looking for anything in particular. We walked for blocks and soon came to realize that perhaps Hong Kong is ONLY malls. It was nothing but shop after shop after shop of both high end designers and main stream American clothing stores. With no other alternatives, we decided to treat ourselves with some retail therapy. We found an H&M and the day was essentially over. To my shame, we spent several hours there just being girls. All of us were homesick, tired and sick of wearing nothing but sweats. It may have been a waste of a day in China, but it made us feel a little better. That night, I met up with Kaleigh and a large group of the Lifelong Learners to go out to dinner with MC, who is a Lifelong Learner on the ship from Hong Kong. He is Kaleigh’s extended family father and had invited a group of people out for dinner in order to teach us about the traditions and foods in his hometown. We ended up going to a relatively high scale restaurant that served dishes family style. Dinner started with several delicious varieties of Chinese tea. MC ordered several different dishes, one of which was jellyfish. Kaleigh is way more of a trooper than I am and tried it. Both of us started to get a little nauseous when MC started eating pigeon heads whole. The situations escalated when desert was, quite literally, turtle jello. It was brown and bled black. Again, Kaleigh went for it and I didn’t. The look on her face told me that it was not the most delicious dish she’d ever had. Not to mention that Kaleigh is nearly vegetarian and hardly ever eats animal meat. Our first run in with Chinese food was a little rough and made us both pretty suspicious of what we were eating for the rest of our trip. Overall, the dinner with MC was a very enjoyable and educational evening. He was particularly amused with the fact that I could use my left hand to eat with chopsticks. So impressed that he insisted on taking my picture. After dinner, Kaleigh and I met up with the girls (and Joe!) and went in search of a fun place to have a drink before we all went our separate ways in the huge country of China. We split up into two cabs with the intention of reaching an establishment known as “Bier Garten.” Yes, we were going to a German pub in Hong Kong. Our taxi driver spoke no English. He made us use his cellphone to call some sort of customer service line and speak to a woman who did not understand us either. We got lost very quickly and eventually had to mime to him that we were getting out and walking. There was a hotel near where we got out of the taxi and the gentlemen working there was nice enough to point us in the right direction. It was about a five minute walk from the ship in the end. Bier Garten turned out to be a charming place with good beer and a fun atmosphere. All of us stayed out a little later than we expected but it was a wonderful night that began a great time in China.

DAY TWO - In transit/Guilin

I took the rare opportunity to sleep in on our second day because we had a flight leaving in the early afternoon. Originally we had planned to try and check out Hong Kong island, but again the metropolis overwhelmed us. The deans and field office had not been very forthcoming with information on how to get there from across the bay either, and none of us wanted a hassle. I stayed on the ship for most of the day until Adam, Kaleigh, Reanna and I had to head to the airport. We caught a cab and watched with our jaws on the ground as we got to see more of Hong Kong. This city is insane; everything seems to be a high rise. The amount of apartment buildings speaks to the density of the population. In all honesty, I can’t say whether I would want to live in Hong Kong, even though it is incredibly clean and safe. There were no parks or recreational areas that I saw, although there surrounding mountains were certainly beautiful. Our taxi crossed a bridge that was truly an astounding feat of engineering. Finally we arrived at the airport and had to go through customs as we were leaving Hong Kong for mainland China. Security was very tight. They checked our bags, took our fingerprints, took a picture of our faces and ran us through an x-ray/temperature scan gate. In keeping with a theme, the Hong Kong airport was ALSO what appeared to be a high end mall. I have never been to such a fancy, clean airport. The four of us grabbed a quick lunch and then boarded our flight to Guilin. On the plane, I sat next to a Chinese man and his grandmother who were visiting home from the states. They were US passport holders who were born in China but now live in California. I told the gentlemen about Semester at Sea and he texted his son before the plane took off to tell him to consider applying. The old woman held my hand throughout the flight. It is these kinds of interactions that end up being the most memorable. Our flight was short and smooth and we landed in Guilin with no problems. Back through customs again and we were in a taxi on the way to our hostel. We stayed at the Wada International Youth Hostel for a whopping price of $6 USD per night. The atmosphere there was wonderful. It was run by three very young women who were friendly and eager to help us navigate Guilin and the surrounding areas. They had cheap drinks and food, a Wii, a DVD screening room, pool table…the works. I probably could have stayed in that common area for days having a great time meeting people, but we wanted to explore. Two of our fellow students, Mia and Brooke, were also staying there. We joined up with them to search for an ATM and ended up wandering through yet another expansive Chinese mall. We even ran into a 100 yuan store, which appeared to be the equivalent of a US dollar store. It was a blast shopping in there for random items. Next we went to a regular old grocery store (in the mall of course) to buy some snacks since we had a long day coming up. Back at the hostel, we booked our Li River trip for the next day and spent the rest of the evening hanging out before getting to sleep early.

DAY THREE- Guilin/Yangshuo

Kaleigh, Adam and I woke up early for our day in Guilin and sleepily boarded a bus for the port where we would meet our boat to take us down the Li River. The scenery of the karst mountains along the Li River are so famous that it was selected as the image on the 20 yuan note. Our cruise took us all the way down the river past this breath taking scenery for five hours until we reached the village of Yangshuo. We spent our time on the boat enjoying the incredible weather, which was a nice 60 degrees and a very welcome reprieve from the heat of India, Cambodia and Vietnam. Each unique mountain had its own name and story in Chinese lore, and this information was given to us by our very helpful English speaking guide. I must have taken hundreds of pictures trying to capture everything that I saw. For the better part of the morning, the mountain mist only added to the beauty. When the mist cleared out, we could see villages, farms and water buffalo further into the distance. Several time s during the cruise, Chinese men on bamboo rafts would come up to the boat and sell fruit to us through the window. Adam bought us some of the most incredibly delicious oranges I have ever eaten in my life. Since we were in Guilin during the season when the river is low, the boat would actually scrape against the bottom fairly frequently. This is the main reason the cruise took five hours. The three of us readily welcomed the time to relax and just enjoy the natural beauty. Around halfway through there was a large Chinese buffet lunch included. After lunch the three of us took more pictures before Kaleigh and I laid down on the top deck and took a very pleasant nap in the excellent weather. Upon arrival in Yangshuo, we got off the boat and walked along an incredible shaded walkway full of Chinese artisans selling their wares. The village of Yangshuo is stunningly charming and beautiful. The cobblestone walkways lead to a variety of shops and restaurants, all under the towering karst mountains in the distance. Kaleigh, Adam and I were able to walk around the village for a short while before boarding another bus that would take us on a small tour around the most beautiful and rural sections of Yangshuo. We drove through rice fields and various farms before making it to a very small village. Here, the bus unloaded and we were able to wander around the village towards the river for a bamboo raft tour. The village here was so different from what I had seen of China until that point. Here, the people were quite visibly less well off. Like most of the rural villages I had visited on my trip so far, there was a certain air of privacy but also welcoming. The people waved to us from their homes. I saw a lot of babies; mostly boys. There was a myriad of stray dogs and a certain stench that I can’t name. Above it all, this was one of the most beautiful places I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. The families here seemed content to live their simple lives; their houses looked dilapidated but each one had a TV inside for the family to watch game shows or soap operas. We made it to the river and boarded several narrow bamboo rafts. The woman operating our raft was the only woman working there, and I wished that I spoke Chinese so that I could ask her about her life. I didn’t need to speak Chinese to notice that she was very kind and seemingly well respected in the community. We drifted up the river to a small island where we saw several animals grazing. Upon stepping onto land, we were given corn husks to feed the water buffalo. Prior to my China visit, I had never seen a buffalo. I love animals, and I was really rather excited that we were going to be able to feed and pet these docile but huge creatures. The group spent a good while on the island with the water buffaloes before boarding the rafts again and heading down river. Yet again the scenery on the river took my breath away. On the banks I observed village life and further into the distance was the majesty of nature. We drifted down the river for quite a while taking in the scenery before our guide advised us to get ready for the “rapids.” After that, everything happened quite fast. Kaleigh and I heard several voices telling us to “look ahead!” “smile for the camera” “get ready for a splash!” Across the river, I could see a floating station in the middle of the river on which a man and woman were rapidly taking pictures of us. Then we approached and went over the rapids, which were almost certainly a man made barrier of concrete put into the river as a way to put some excitement into the tourist’s lives. We dropped about a foot and our feet got wet and we both laughed at the absurdity of the situation. The captain of our raft then took us over to the camera station to buy the pictures of us going “over” the rapid. This station was really an incredible feat; a full photo shop set up in the middle of a river in rural China. After the rapids, we took the rafts back up the river, boarded a bus and were on our way back to Guilin. Once we got there, the three of us asked to be let off at the night market. The night market consisted of several streets where souvenir sellers had set up a variety of tents. We walked around for a while before acknowledging how hungry we were. Looking for a good restaurant when you do no read or speak Chinese is incredibly difficult. After the turtle incident with MC in Hong Kong, we were both weary of the endless racks of meat hanging and the questionable smells coming from each restaurant. Chinese American food is VERY different from authentic Chinese food. Eventually we became so nauseous and overwhelmed that, defeated, we went to KFC. Regardless, ordering at KFC was just as difficult as it would have been anywhere else and it took us quite a while. Sometime during the meal I realized that I had lost the paper I had with the name of our hostel written in Chinese. We attempted to get into several taxis and use the English name to no avail. The English speaking waitress at KFC couldn’t write the name down for us because she didn’t know the Chinese name and thus could not translate it into Chinese characters. Finally, as we were beginning to worry if we would ever get back, Kaleigh realized SHE had a piece of paper with the Chinese name. We happily hopped in a taxi and returned to the hostel, where Kaleigh and I noticed the massive array of bug bites we had gotten that day. At least a hundred. They were numerous and painful and despite how tired I was they hurt so bad that it took me a long time to get to sleep. Nevertheless, sleep eventually came and I welcomed it as we had another long day ahead.

DAY FOUR - In transit/Beijing

While Adam woke up early to check out Guilin’s famous Reed Flute Cave, Kaleigh and I decided to rest up and recover from our wounds before a long day of flying to Beijing. We checked out of our hostel and caught a taxi to the airport where we met Adam to board our flight. The flight was about three hours and most uneventful since we were all dead asleep. We landed in Beijing around 4 pm and exited the plane into one of the biggest and cleanest airports I have ever seen. The three of us waited in a very long line for a taxi and then were on our way to our second hostel. This one, the Peking Yard Youth Hostel, was incredible. The décor was unbelievable, the rooms were comfortable, the food in the restaurant was great and the beers were cheap. Overall, we loved it there. Originally our plan had been to explore the sights in Beijing that evening, however we soon learned that the Forbidden City, Summer Palace and Temple of Heaven had already closed. This meant we had to make a decision about the next day: explore Beijing or see the Great Wall of China? Kaleigh and I decided to see the wall since we hadn’t seen the Taj in India by doing a trip organized through our hostel. Adam decided to try and do it all in one day independently. Decisions made, we had dinner at the hostel before asking the lady working the front desk where a night market was nearby. She directed us to a place “nearby, walking distance” on the map and we set off. It soon became clear that this place was not in any way walking distance. We tried about three times to hail a cab and take us there using a Chinese map, and every single one refused to take us there with something of a glimmer of fear in their eye. To this day, I have no idea where that lady tried to send us, but I don’t think it was anywhere nice. Exasperated, we scanned the map for another market, pointed to that, and were on our way in the cab. About ten minutes later, we arrived at a holiday winter wonderland…in China. It suddenly hit me that Christmas was coming. There were decorations, hot chocolate stands and lots of shopping all along a beautiful lit walkway that surrounded a lake. We spent the entire night walking around the area shopping and people watching. At one shop, a Chinese woman invited us to taste all her different varieties of tea. She would tell us about the significance of the tea, the proper way to grow and brew it and the use of it in Chinese culture. It was an incredible one on one experience I will cherish forever. She was so eager to talk about her culture and hear about ours. Not to mention the fact that it was easily the best tea I have ever had. After exploring a little more, the three of us jumped back in the taxi and went to bed at the hostel.

DAY FIVE - The Great Wall of China

Adam got up bright and early before Kaleigh and I to start his independent adventure while the two of us got about a half an hour extra rest. We ate breakfast at the hostel and noticed that Reanna had shown up at the restaurant there as well. It turned out that her hostel’s group had left without her and sent her here, so she jumped on our tour and we all boarded two little buses to take us to the wall. I can’t say much about the drive there since I was asleep most of the time, but what I saw was quite beautiful with the autumn leaves. The drive was about two hours, and it was terrifying. Our driver was speeding almost out of control the whole time, constantly honking his horn at anyone who dared get in his way. Nevertheless, when we arrived at the Great Wall I knew it would be an incredible day. When you drive up, you are very far below the wall and you can only see it at the top of a mountain. We went to the Mutianyu section. There is an long street full of vendors trying to sell snacks and souvenirs as you walk to the ticket office. Visitors have a choice between hiking up to the Great Wall or taking a chair lift. We chose the chair lift because it would give us more time actually on the Wall. The ride up was stunningly beautiful. The autumn leaves created a stunning color pattern all along the mountains, and you could see the Wall snaking all along the top of those ridges for miles in each direction. Once we finally found ourselves standing on the wall, it was time to explore. The Great Wall adheres completely to the ups and downs of the mountain top, so walking on it is rather steep and strenuous in several areas. There are tiny stairs all over it as you climb up and down. There were several watchtowers that we were able to climb up into. The sheer size and length of the structure is incredible. Were it in the United States, it would stretch almost completely up and down the East Coast. What the three of us saw that day was barely a portion, and yet it was awe inspiring. We spent the better part of the morning and early afternoon walking up and down the wall, taking pictures and just enjoying the fall colors all around us. When we were finished exploring the Wall, it was time to make our way down. At the Mutianyu section, the best way to get down is to toboggan. Essentially, you sit on a sled with wheels and slide all the way down a very long metal slide with plenty of twists and turns. It was an absolute blast, and I was particularly pleased by how fast we could go and the fact that it lasted for almost six minutes. Talk about a unique experience in China: sliding down the Great Wall. Once we reached the bottom, the three of us did a little souvenir shopping before joining the larger group for lunch. The restaurant was at the base of the Wall and was set up family style with big round tables and lazy susans so that everyone could have access to each dish. The meal was outstanding, particularly the dumplings and tea. I was relieved to finally be able to enjoy Chinese food in China, since the road had been tough and full of mystery meat to that point. The drive back to Beijing was just as harrowing as the one to the Wall. Once back in the city, our driver took us to see the Bird’s Nest and Water Cube from the Beijing Olympics. We had a great time taking cheesy pictures. The structures themselves were incredible and much larger than they looked on television. The entire park was massive. Kaleigh and I transferred to a different van and were taken back to the hostel where we ate dinner and used the internet before heading to the train station. We met Adam at the station and boarded our overnight train for Shanghai. The décor and layout of the train was quite fancy and comfortable. Our compartment in the train had two sets of bunkbeds with me and Adam on the bottom and Kaleigh on the top with a very serious Chinese businessman. Despite our best efforts at being respectful and polite, the guy quite obviously did not like us very much. In order to let him get some sleep or alone time we went to the café and played cards for a couple hours before going to sleep. Sleeping on the train was unusual but quite like sleeping on the ship with the rocking.

DAY SIX - Zhujiajiao

I woke up on my sixth day in China on a train. We pulled into the station in Shanghai and were promptly let off the train into more Chinese, urban chaos. The streets of Shanghai from the window of a taxi seemed like any other city. When we pulled up at the ship I was relieved to see home. We had to go through customs again in Shanghai in order to board the ship so I did that and then went to relax in my room for a couple hours before my trip to Zhujiajiao Water Village. Around noon I boarded on of Semester at Sea’s fancy buses and set out towards the village. Zhujiajiao is often called “The Venice of China.” When we reached the village, it was raining. The old village is still mostly walled off, but surrounding it is more urban city landscape. Inside the walls was tranquility. The water canals were being navigated by everyday Chinese in pretty boats with traditional red paper lanterns. Our guide took us to several old houses, museums and gardens throughout our tour. We had time to do some shopping in the narrow market alleyways. The highlight of the trip for me was our visit to a traditional Chinese pharmacy. The walls were covered with rows and rows of drawers full of different herbs and remedies. Our guide told us about the intricacies of Chinese medicine and it was truly fascinating. Then we were able to visit an old Post Office that was also one of the oldest ports for delivering mail by sea and river. I had expected Zhujiajiao to be a little less commercial and tourist oriented, but I was still glad I went on the trip. It was a relief to let someone else do the planning and just follow along.

China was an incredible experience that will rank very highly on my list of best memories. It is a country that is both traditional and modern, capitalist and communist, urban and rural. Traveling with Kaleigh and Adam was easy and constantly enjoyable. We were able to see several different regions of a huge country in six days and it was a success. I can not wait to return someday!

Falling in Love With Cambodia/Contemplating Vietnam

Thu, 10 Nov 2011 18:00:09 -0500

In order to reach Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon, whichever you like), the MV had to sail upriver. On the morning of our arrival, I was rudely awoken by my roommate and couldn’t get back to sleep, and so I found myself out on the deck watching the sunrise over Vietnam. We sailed past fishing villages with tiny little boats, and I watched as those villages began to wake up and greet the morning. Men came out to their boats and set off on a day of work. When we finally reached Saigon, it looked just like any other city: tall skyscrapers, bridges, noise and air pollution. Hardly what many of us expected from a country we had heard so much about in our history textbooks. These textbooks often painted Vietnam as a backward country full of mud thatch huts and insane jungle. It was a country many of us only thought of when we thought of war. Yet Saigon looked like it could be Chicago or Manhattan or LA.

DAY ONE - Off to Cambodia

My one choice for a Semester at Sea guided overnight was to see Cambodia. Since we are not allowed to leave the country we are ported in, Cambodia seemed like a wise choice because I would be unable to get there independently, and it was a country that I was fascinated by. By noon, myself and 38 other SAS students were off to the Saigon airport in anticipation for our trip to Phnom Penh and Angkor Wat. The Ho Chi Minh airport is huge, modern and spotless. I was astounded…not even in the States had I been to such a nice airport. Another first for me was to board a plane and be in the air for only about 20 minutes before landing. The short flight to Phnom Penh was uneventful except for the fact that I had to sit between two already inebriated fellow students who were rather loud. Upon arrival, we were required to apply for entry visas. It was a painless but long process and then we were on the bus driving through Phnom Penh. As far as comparisons go, it was almost like India. There was activity everywhere, lots of traffic and lots of shops selling everything you could imagine. The European influence was more clear in the “touristy” areas. It was our tour guide that really astounded me. He had an incredible story. As a child, his parents fled into hiding from the Pol Pot regime. This regime wanted to return to an agrarian society without any Western or modern influences and targeted anyone who fit into those categories for execution. During this time, one third of the Cambodian population was killed in a genocide carried out by the Khmer Rouge. Our guide’s parents were educated and so fled after leaving him to be recruited by the Khmer Rouge as a child soldier. He was instructed never to reveal his or his parent’s real names. The Khmer Rouge used him to reload ammunition for several years. He survived many American and Vietnamese bombings and when the regime fell found himself homeless. It was at this time that a woman began to visit him persistently, asking his real name. At first he feared her, but eventually began to give her his trust. When he told her his real name, she confirmed that they were siblings. Over the next years, the reunited siblings searched for their parents. They returned to their childhood home in Phnom Penh and found an inscription there that read “I am still alive.” A couple days later, their father was there waiting for them. The three of them then set out on a search for their mother and wife by putting ads out on the radio. Months later, the entire family was reunited. Our bus pulled up to a beautiful riverfront area full of restaurants and cafes. There were locals playing various games and sports on a waterfront park. Here, we boarded a small boat to cruise the Mekong at sunset. The experience lasted about 45 minutes and was nothing to write home about, but it was nice to observe the life along the river. I had not expected Cambodia, a country still recovering from a devastating war, to look so modern and developed. Sunset cruise over, I was excited to found out that our next stop was in fact an orphanage. We drove to the Palm Tree Orphanage and met the director, who turned out to be a repeat SAS alumni. He came to Cambodia with SAS, fell in love with it, and chose to make it his home and mission in life to help the children there. Almost all of the volunteers at this orphanage were recent SAS alumni about my age and it was exciting for me to see a future possibility of employment and service here. We went inside the courtyard and found a full stage set up. All of the children grabbed our hands and sat us down on an assortment of chairs and couches and then the lights went down. The director explained to us that one of the many ways they aim to enrich the children’s lives is to teach them dance. Following his explanation of each traditional dance, the children would perform. They were beautiful, talented and incredibly full of life. When the performance was over, each of the children ran to one of us students and showed us around. I was paired with a girl who was probably about 14-16 and was one of the standout dancers in the performance. She showed me their dorm room style sleeping area, the outdoor pavilion where they practice musical instruments and dancing and the pottery room. This orphanage supports itself largely by selling the pottery that the children produce in art class. The girl pointed out to me which ones she had made herself and I wished that I could afford to buy the unique pieces. In her bedroom, she showed me a drawing of the home she remembers from childhood. She told me that she missed that place and had not seen her parents or siblings for years. Second only to the Shan Children’s Home in Penang, I felt a great connection with Palm Tree Orphanage. I could absolutely see myself returning there in the future, and it is all the more perfect because they prefer SAS alumni as volunteers. The time I got to spend there was much too short, and I felt sad having to leave the girl I had met so soon. Hopefully when I return to the states and constant internet access I’ll be able to get in touch with her. After leaving the orphanage the group went to a very upscale restaurant around the corner, which was in itself somewhat of a culture shock after having come from the orphanage. The atmosphere and menu were extravagant, but this was to be expected on a SAS sponsored trip. I tried a couple various dishes and hit the pillow hard when we went to the hotel after eating.

DAY TWO - PHNOM PENH

The phone in our room rang at 5:30 am sharp; a wake up call for our speed tour of Phnom Penh. Breakfast was an extensive buffet where there were countless varieties of fruits, eggs and bread. Then we were off in the bus for our first stop at the Royal Palace. The King of Cambodia, a man who was trained in classical ballet in Paris and admittedly only loves women as “sisters,” still lives in this extraordinary compound. Nestled in immaculate gardens are several golden structures with the influence of both Asian and European architecture. The grounds are expansive. We went inside the ceremonial hall where we could view the thrones on which the monarchs (or monarch) sit. Everything was gold inside. On the same grounds is the Silver Pagoda, so named because the tiles on the ground are each made of pure silver. As you walk through the Pagoda, the ground below you clicks from all the silver tiles. Locals actually call this Pagoda the Emerald Pagoda, as there is a huge Buddha inside that is carved entirely from one massive emerald. Throughout the rest of the Pagoda are traditional jewels and figurines from the history of Cambodia’s monarchy. In a courtyard outside the Pagoda are three stupas (traditional Buddhist structures that hold the ashes of the deceased) for previous monarchs. Odd though it may sound, it was our next stops that were what drew me to Cambodia. I am intensely interested in genocide and post genocide societies. It is a huge passion of mine to work towards creating a more workable framework for holding those who commit these atrocities accountable. Further, I would like to work with women and children who are effected by genocide to provide them with the proper mental help they may need and with educational opportunities. Cambodia experienced a relatively recent genocide in the late 1970s, and I was eager to go on this trip in order to observe how the country seems to be coping. The Pol Pot Regime, with the Khmer Rouge faction, killed one third of the Cambodian population. In their obsession with returning to a completely agrarian society, they targeted anyone who was or looked to be Westernized and/or educated. Those who spoke French, held jobs with foreign companies or embassies, wore glasses and countless others were designated for torture and execution. Our group was taken to Tuol Sleng, which was a prison and re education camp during the genocide. It was here that countless men, women and children were kept and tortured before being taken to the massive Killing Fields for execution. Walking through this museum it was all I could do to keep my composure. The walls are lined with the images taken by the Khmer Rouge of each prisoner they held there. We were able to walk through the cells and consider what it must have been like to spend your last days there, terrified, suffering and alone. In the last building, surrounded still by barbed wires, are the torture devices that were used against the prisoners. Hung above these devices are paintings created by the only seven survivors of Tuol Sleng. These paintings show in horrific detail the degradation and torture that the prisoners were subjected to. By this point, I was feeling as if I would most certainly vomit. I needed fresh air. I walked into the humid sun towards where I could see water being sold. Under this little pavilion was an old man seated at a table. He beckoned me to him and I noticed that he was blind. A young girl about my age began to interpret what he was saying to me. The old man was one of those seven survivors. As he indicated his missing fingers and ripped out toenails, his interpreter explained to me that he had nowhere else to go and no one to care for him. In order to make a living, he came back to this place where he was brutally tortured everyday in order to sell his book. The kindness radiating from this man was remarkable, particularly because I knew what horrors he had been through. I bought his ten dollar book so that he could eat that night and he insisted on taking a picture with me. Leaving Tuol Sleng, I wished that I could have sat and spoke with that old man all day; just so that he would know that someone cares. Regardless, my trip leader was waving at us that we had to move on. Our next stop was the Killing Fields, or rather one of them. Cambodia is littered with 400 of these killing fields, mass graves of all those who were executed by the Khmer Rouge. Upon entering the field, the first thing I saw was a beautifully decorated stupa in the middle of the open space. Walking closer and closer to it, I realized with a weight in my stomach what that beautiful structure held. Almost five stories tall, this stupa was filled from bottom to top with human skulls. These were the skulls of those who had been found buried in shallow graves on the very ground which I now walked. The skull s on the bottom were children’s. In some parts of the field, there are still bone fragments sticking out of the ground. Most ironic is that if you were to stumble upon this place without knowing what it was, you would probably find it beautiful. In the air is the scent of fresh flowers and it is serenely quiet. The grass is green, the trees are shady and it is bordered by a sparkling lake. The lake was a strategic move, as anyone who was trying to flee would get slowed down and either shot or would drown. Looking down the field, you can see countless indentations in the ground, each of these are excavation sites of mass graves. There is an air of despair and sorrow there that will probably never leave. Unimaginable hate and pain happened in this place, and it was difficult standing there to rationalize such harsh truths. It is hard to say that you are “glad” to have gone to such a place, but I was grateful for the experience because it only reinforced my passion for ensuring that this sort of hate never happens again. As I left the killing field, there was no reason to speak. I needed time to process the horrors I had just seen. The group ate lunch at a family style restaurant before boarding a very small plane to Siem Reap. Once we landed, we met a new guide who took us to the hotel to get freshened up before dinner. In true SAS fashion, this hotel was insanely extravagant. I checked into my room, showered, and went to the lobby to wait for the rest of the group. That evening we went to a restaurant with the biggest buffet I have ever seen. There was anything you could ever want being offered, but I tried to stick to Cambodian food to give myself a more cultural experience. As we were eating we were able to enjoy a lovely instrumental ensemble as they played traditional Cambodian music. The highlight was when the cultural dance show began. No matter how many times it happens on this trip, watching cultural dances in their country of origin is always one of my favorite experiences. The men and women who performed were absolutely incredible; their training and discipline were obvious and they seemed to really enjoy themselves. There were several types of dances, from those that were performed for royalty to those that are still performed at festivals in the villages. I loved every minute of it and was sad when it was over. Returning to the hotel, I got some free WIFI while enjoying a Singapore Sling at the bar before tucking in for the night in preparation for my 4:30 am wake up call.

DAY THREE- SIEM REAP

Dragging myself out of bed at four thirty, I thought to myself, “I’m sure Angkor Wat is just as spectacular for the rest of the day…maybe I’ll sleep in.” Something inside me knew this wasn’t true; I could feel the potential for an unforgettable experience. The bus drove through the darkness of the early morning and I observed as Cambodians woke up and set about their daily lives. We arrived at the gate to the temples and each of us had to take a picture for the day pass that we would wear around our necks all day as clearance to be within the site. Angkor Wat, built in the 7th century, is the largest religious complex on earth today. It has gone back and forth between being a place of Hindu and Buddhist worship. The first glimpse I caught of it in the feeble daylight promised unbelievable beauty. The bus parked and our guide led us into the complex. In order to enter, you have to cross on a bridge over a massive moat that circles the entire temple. You then walk through a series of gates, each of which has a massive statue inside. On the other side of these gates you can finally see Angkor Wat, with its five iconic pyramid-like towers in the distance. There is more walking before you get right in front, and even then there is a large reflecting pool that separates viewers from the front entrance to the temple itself. This is where the photo opportunities are. As the sun rose right behind Angkor Wat,I was struck speechless by the majesty of it. Everyone around me went silent. The colors were spectacular, and the feeling that this place was so ancient and had seen so much was apparent. The effect of the reflection pools was awe inspiring. When the sun had risen fully, Joe, Jena and I set off to explore. The expansiveness of Angkor Wat is astounding. Inside the hallways all of these walls are carved with traditional Hindu and Buddhist epic stories. Around each corner are beautiful statues of Buddha or the Hindu gods. Inside the walls of the compound looking up at the pyramids it is hard to wrap your mind around the fact that these ornately carved and constructed structures were built so long ago. Our designated hour of exploration was up way too fast, and we reluctantly had to return to the hotel for breakfast. Then it was back to Angkor Wat for another two and a half hours. This time we took a lot of time at the front gates before Joe, Jena and I sped to the pyramids in order to be able to climb to the top of one before we had to leave. As these temples are still functioning religious sites, it is required that you dress conservatively. The stairs to the top are almost a completely vertical incline, and I was out of breath by the time we got to the top. The climb was more than worth it. At the top we observed Buddhist monks contributing their offerings and were able to look down on the temple structure from high above. There was an incredibly spiritual energy in the air here, but alas you can only stay at the top for fifteen minutes so down we went. Exploring at the bottom again we observed some monkeys walking throughout the complex like they owned the place. Suddenly we realized that our allotted time was up and it was crunch time to get back to the bus promptly. I bargained for some last minute souvenirs on my way out before returning to the hotel again for lunch and checkout. Bellies full and re-energized, we set out to view the temples of Ta Promh and Angkor Thom. Ta Promh is the temple complex where the first Tomb Raider movie was filmed. You have to walk straight into the jungle for about ten minutes before you get there, and then you have to promptly scrape your jaw off the ground. This place is beyond amazing. It is even older than Angkor Wat and has been completely overtaken by the jungle. There are sections of the temple that have trees with huge, thick roots growing in and out and over the walls. Yet even this is still a functioning religious site, and as a result the atmosphere is serene and spiritual. I enjoyed navigating the overgrown and green halls and courtyards of this area alone, thinking about where I am and why. Semester at Sea does change your life; it is impossible for it not to. I never wanted to leave Ta Prohm because I didn’t think anything (and certainly not Saigon) could top it. Ta Prohm makes Angkor Wat seem sterile and kitschy. But since my Cambodian visa only allowed me three days in the country, I begrudgingly got back on the bus and moved on to the temple known as Bayan or Angkor Thom. Imagine my disbelief when, in the middle of a monsoon rain, we pulled up in front of a temple that topped both Angkor Wat and Ta Prohm. Angkor Thom is astounding beyond words. There are over 2,000 smiling Buddha faces carved into the numerous towers here and the effect is amazing. There are vines growing all over the structure, and many winding hall and path ways where you could get lost for hours. Every turn has a different unique face looking down on you. This temple was by far my favorite. The complexity, the spirituality, all those faces…there was just something about it. If it was a choice to stay in Cambodia instead of Vietnam, I would have done it without a second thought. Alas, we had to return. And so it was from the incredible Angkor Thom to the stark airport and back to Saigon. Once we landed back in Vietnam, I fought the urge to go straight to sleep in favor of some exploration. Joe and I set out to find food. On this adventure was our first experience crossing the street in Vietnam. This is truly an experience to make note of. Almost everyone in Vietnam rides a motorcycle instead of driving cars. There are FLEETS of them everywhere. Traffic lights and lanes are a suggestion. In order to cross the street, you just have to have a blind faith in the drivers that they will go around you. You take a deep breath, count to three, and step into the street. The key is to walk slowly and evenly. If you stop, you’ll get hit. If you take a step back to avoid something, you’ll get it. You have to have faith. Needless to say, this might have been one of the most terrifying and exhilerating experiences of my life. Joe and I walked around Saigon aimlessly for a while, wondering if we had come to the one section of this huge city without any restaurants. Finally we stumbled upon a delicious place called Lemongrass. We ate a wonderful Vietnamese meal and that walked back to the ship before passing out, exhausted from three days of gorgeous Cambodia.

DAY FOUR - THE MEKONG DELTA

I had no plans for Vietnam. Originally, I had intended to hop on a trip to Hanoi and Ha Long Bay but that fell through because of time constraints. So I found myself with three days in Vietnam and no plans. Most of my friends had set off on other adventures while I was in Cambodia so I didn’t have a lot of people to travel with. There was a Semester at Sea trip being offered on my first day in Vietnam to the Mekong Delta. With few expectations, I managed to grab a free spot on the trip and we were off. The bus drove past gorgeous rice paddies for two hours until reaching the town of My Tho. The tour guide led us through a fresh market here, which was a fascinating opportunity to observe local life. The majority of the market was a fish market, and beyond the smell it was also what most of us Americans would consider gruesome. There were live fish everywhere having their heads cut off, being gutted and strung up. I’m not sure how long I could handle that smell, but I was glad for the opportunity to observe something so interesting and different from what I am used to. Our group then drove to a port and boarded two boats to take us into the Mekong River Delta. We travelled through both wide and narrow parts of the river, through the thick jungle and onto an island. Here we get off the boats and explored a coconut factory where they made different coconut decorations and candies. We were seated under a palm canopy and treated to a tasting of several different exotic fruits while a Vietnamese musical group played traditional music. Afterwards we walked through the jungle to where we were picked up by horse carts and taken through the village. Observing village life was fascinating. Everything was very slow moving, quiet, and clearly family oriented. The horses took us to a large restaurant in the middle of the jungle. When I saw what was for lunch it was all I could do to be polite and not throw up. There, sitting on the table, was a huge whole fish on a spike. Head, fins, teeth and all. It appeared to have been deep fried. Waiters seated us and then began slicing the meat off the fish and rolling it into spring rolls with noodles, cabbage and pineapple. In the end, it was actually pretty good. After lunch we had free time to walk around the village. As I wandered through the dirt streets in the thick jungle and overwhelming humidity, I contemplated what I knew about the Vietnam War. My knowledge about this event in Vietnamese and American history is limited, but I did know that the guerilla warfare was brutal. American troops were consistently ambushed by Vietcong in the Mekong Delta. I also knew that the US used Agent Orange and other chemical warfare on countless innocent Vietnamese villages just like the one I was in now. It was difficult to wrap my mind around how recent all of these things occurred and the fact that terrible things probably happened right where I was standing. Being in the jungle, it was also very easy to see how troops could have been so easily surprised. It is impossible to see even two feet ahead of you in the foliage of the Mekong. The heat and humidity is instantly exhausting. This seemingly short day trip gave me a lot to think about. Free time over, we all loaded back into the boats and then the bus for our drive back to Saigon.

DAY FIVE- Saigon

My second day in Vietnam we decided to hit the town and explore Saigon. Sarah, Joe and I caught a taxi deep into the heart of the city because we wanted to see the Thien Dau Pagoda. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of Saigon was a green and red pagoda. The smell of incense was strong in the air and a sense of calm emanated from this traditional structure amongst the modern. This particular pagoda was dedicated to the goddess of the ocean, and it felt fitting to leave incense offerings there for the safety of sailors and those at sea. Next we went for lunch to experience Vietnam’s infamous pho. Pho (pronouched “phuh?”) is a beef noodle soup that is a staple for all Vietnamese. You order the soup and then they bring you a huge platter of different garnishes to put into the soup, such as: basil leaves, mint leaves, kale, green onions, bean sprouts, hot sauce, chili peppers, etc. You take however much you want of each ingredient, swirl everything together with chopsticks, and dig in. Let me just take a moment to say that I LOVE PHO. Out of all the foods I have tried on my so far, it is my favorite. During my three days in Vietnam I had about four bowls of pho. I sure hope that there is one Vietnamese place in Albuquerque that has good pho! After lunch, we headed to the War Remnants Museum. Formerly know as the Museum of American War Atrocities, this museum is largely composed of photographs taken during what we call the Vietnam War. Each level and wing is dedicated to different parts of the war. There is an Agent Orange section, a section on the weapons and bombs used, a section on American interrogation techniques, etc, etc, etc. It would be an understatement to say that walking through this museum as an American citizen is an uncomfortable experience. The images are gruesome and appalling. I saw pictures of US soldiers torturing women and children, of babies severely burned and deformed by napalm or Agent Orange. I would be lying if I were to say that I did not feel ashamed for being an American at that moment. For many years I have struggled with my feelings about the necessity of war. I have recently come to the conclusion that I do not believe in it at all. This museum made me see just how hateful and destructive war is because there was no escaping the images in front of me. It would be easy to leave this museum thinking that all US troops are brutal monsters who torture and kill innocents. I came out of the museum with the understanding that no one side is right, just or innocent in war. Each side commits terrible crimes against innocent civilians and each other. Going to Tuol Sleng, the Killing Fields and this museum within days of each other did something to me. I felt disgusted and discouraged in the human race. Just like in Cambodia, it took everything in me not to weep and vomit in the museum. When we were finished looking at the pictures and exhibits, I went outside for fresh air. The air was thick with humidity. All I could think about was what it must have been like to be in this heat and be burned by Agent Orange or have your village burned down. Each side in the war was guilty. It might be obvious just from reading this blog entry that I still have not processed and fully coped with what I saw there that day. By no means do I want to make this sound like I am anti-American or against the military. I believe in supporting the troops and not the war. Those who serve for our military are brave individuals that I believe should be respected. The images that I saw in the museum are certainly not representative of all US soldiers but it was shocking to see such brutality. After that experience I needed a break. We sat on the steps of the museum, surrounded by US tanks and helicopters, for quite a while. No one spoke. Every single one of us needed to process that in our own way. Afterwards, we chose to walk to the Ben Thanh market. The walk there allowed us to clear our heads and see a little more of the city life. Ben Thanh market is the main market for all of Saigon. It is a huge indoor market that stretches several blocks and sells everything from fresh food to pirated DVDs to clothes to kitchen utensils. This was the perfect place to do some cheap but awesome Christmas shopping and I was pleased with my purchases and improved bargaining skills. That evening, we had planned to go to a restaurant called Ngon that Wikitravel said had a traditional Vietnamese Water Puppet show every Saturday evening. We hailed a taxi and were off…until it became wildly obvious that he had no idea where he was going. He drove us in circles for a while before dropping us off at a completely random and really fancy restaurant. The waiter there hailed us another cab and assured us that he knew where the restaurant was. This driver drove us all the way across town for about half an hour before admitting he had no idea where he was going either. While we drove it was pouring rain and we watched out the window as the streets of Saigon turned into deep rivers. We knew were would never find this restaurant and water puppet show so we asked the driver to just go back towards where we had started. Sarah had a list of restaurants that had been given out on the ship so we dejectedly picked one of those and ended up eating there. All of us had been really excited to see the show but tried to be optimistic about the good meal we ate anyways. Full and exhausted we dragged ourselves to a coffee shop in order to gain some energy for the night that we had planned. There is a famous bar/club in Saigon called Apocalypse Now that everyone told us was a must for any visit to the city. As I sat drinking my tea I knew that not all of us would make it; we were fading fast and falling asleep in our seats. I kept reminding myself: “sleep when you’re dead!” The only problem was that we had no idea where Apocalypse Now was…so we wandered hoping to find a young Vietnamese person who might know. No luck. Finally we hopped in a taxi who dropped us off in the front of place. There were tons of men in drag outside, ghost and ghouls and this was when I suddenly realized that it was the day before Halloween. The realization that it was almost November hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t believe that my adventure was almost over. While most of our group decided the line was too long and cover charge was too high to stay, Mallory and I decided we had to seize the day. The place was loud and crowded inside but we had a great girl’s night celebrating our great experiences in Cambodia and Vietnam.

DAY SIX - Saigon

By the sixth day in Vietnam we were all pretty burned out from our various adventures. The only established order of business was to find internet. This task turned out to be more difficult than we expected, as Vietnamese WIFI connections are extremely unreliable. First we went to a coffee shop that had delightful breakfast but a terrible connection. Next we mooched internet off of a very fancy hotel. Neither had an ideal connection for Skype or class registration. It took us until about two PM to get what we all needed collectively out of the internet and then we went with Kaitlynn to pick up her custom tailored dress. Naturally we had pho for our last lunch in Vietnam. Satisfied with our last taste of the noodle soup until who knows when, Amanda, Joe and I headed for Ben Thanh once more. We wandered around making last purchases and people watching for a couple hours before heading back to the ship.

Vietnam is not at all what most Americans would expect. The cities are highly developed and modern. Anti-American sentiment is scarce since the majority of the population is under 30 and know just as much about the Vietnam/American War as our generation does. This is one country that I know I will return to soon. The natural beauty and friendliness of the locals is truly incomparable. So far, Cambodia has been the standout of my trip. There was such a sense of hope and renewal there that was infectious. I hope to be a part of making sure that Cambodia and its people can have a future that is as rich and beautiful as their past.

Feeling Spiritual in Malaysia

Mon, 24 Oct 2011 22:19:53 -0400

Admittedly, Malaysia was the country that I knew the least about before coming on this trip. The extent of my knowledge was this: I knew it was majority Muslim, I knew there were beaches, and I knew that it used to be part of Indonesia. It was safe to say that I had know exponentially more about each country on our itinerary before arriving there. In a way, this made Malaysia a completely clean slate and I had no expectations.

DAY ONE

Sailing into Malaysia was a beautiful site; all we could see were lush green mountainsides populated here and there with buildings. The MV docked on Penang Island (or Pulau Penang as the locals call it) in the UNESCO World Heritage city of Georgetown. Customs and Immigration were so far the absolutely worst for this port. Everyone had to leave the ship, pick up their passports from boxes on the gangway and then wait in a HUGE line of our 600 person community to go through. Needless to say, it took quite a long time and caused an onboard panic because no one was expecting it. I was leisurely packing when the intercom in my room came on, “Anyone who wishes to leave the ship and travel independently must go through customs NOW and will not be allowed back on the ship for several hours before the entire ship’s company has been cleared.” Never in my life have I packed so quickly. Out on the gangway, there were girls who had clearly been in the middle of a shower. It was madness! Once our group of seven girls had passed through, we found a miracle: a taxi driver with a van that offered seven seats. It may be hard for you, my readers, to understand why this was such an incredible sight, but here is why: we almost always have to split up. There is always a very confusing conversation between two or three cab drivers about trying to keep our group together. Inevitably, one group gets lost of left behind or we spend hours trying to find each other. Joe, with his seven seater van, felt like a Godsend. Indeed, the rest of the day was quite relaxed without having to worry were our group would rendezvous once we reached any given destination. Transportation problem solved, the seven of us were off for a girl’s day. Our first stop was the Kek Lok Si Buddhist temple. Working at the Field Office on the ship, I had read a lot of material about Penang and this was a must see listed in almost every single one. Driving up to it, the reason became clear. This temple sits above Georgetown on a hillside and is massive. There are several levels to navigate, the focal point being a huge Pagoda and a 30 metre bronze standing Buddha. This is Kuan Yin, the female incarnation of Buddha and Goddess of Mercy. As we began to navigate the first level of Kek Lok Si, we were astounded by the beauty of the place instantly. Everything is detailed in either carvings, paintings or ornaments. They say that the temple is home to about 10,000 Buddha statues and this is probably true. The noble figures are everywhere; skinny, chubby, standing, sitting, reclining. Incense offerings are burning around every corner, and the smell only adds to the air of spirituality that permeates the place. At the second level, we stopped to hang some wish ribbons. Each brightly colored ribbon had printed on it something like “World Peace,” “Lifelong Happiness, ” “Good Health, ” “Safe Travel,” etc. On the ribbon, you wrote who you intended each wish for and then hung it on a tree that was already covered with countless other wishes from all over the world. It was at this point that many of us began to become intensely affected by the place. Never in my life have I been to a place that is so full of spirituality, hope, faith and kindness. None of us were Buddhists, and yet the people praying all around us were so welcoming. The history and beauty of the place were just entirely overwhelming in the most beautiful way. Wishes stated, the group of us ascended by cable car to the last level atop the hill. We exited into a gift shop, and then into a courtyard. In this courtyard were about three focal points: the huge Kuan Yin statue, a gorgeous waterfall and koi pond, and another beautiful piece of architecture that was a shrine to the Buddha inside. We spent another great while just exploring this level, feeling the spirituality move through us. The Kuan Yin statue was taller than I had expected or can describe. She was truly majestic. On this level, overlooking all of Georgetown on a beautiful day in Malaysia, my new group of incredible friends just started crying. We were all so grateful to have come so far, to be in Malaysia, to have met each other, to feel the spirituality in such a beautiful and unique place as Kek Lok Si. It was a moment that I will never forget and cherish always. Alas, it was time to meet Joe and begin the other portion of our day: beach, spa and relaxation. On the way to the hotel we had booked, Joe stopped to show us a family run chocolate and coffee shop. We walked in to find the place packed with school children. A woman came up to our group and briskly demanded that we follow her if we wanted to try some free chocolate. There was no need to tell us twice. It was really a blast of an experience. She let us try three pieces of every flavor each, and the flavors were not what you might expect: hot chili, curry, green tea, sesame seed (my favorite), crunchy coconut, papaya, kiwi, etc. Hands down some of the best chocolate I have ever tasted. Next she took us to the coffee and tea section and repeated the same process. For the first time in my life I enjoyed drinking coffee. It was absurdly delicious. We left the shop laden with bags of chocolate that the owner of the store was kind enough to give us a discount on for being students. Yum! Soon thereafter, we arrived at Paradise Sandy Beach Resort for an afternoon of serious relaxation and girl time. The place was gorgeous, but since it was off season there was almost no one there. We were the only people staying on the fifteenth floor. We squealed like the girls that we are when we entered our room and found that it had an ocean view balcony. All of us put down our bags, put on our swimsuits and headed down to the beach and pool. The staff seated us at a table in the restaurant and we all ordered Singapore Slings. My first meal in Malaysia was Malaysian Satay and it was absolutely incredible. Little skewers of marinated beef that were to be dipped in this mouth watering peanut butter sauce with fresh cucumbers on the side. Lunch was divine. Then it was time to swim and relax in the gorgeous pool. We had a great time playing around, sitting under the waterfall and taking quick dips in the ocean (we had been warned of jellyfish if we went too far out). As the skies opened and the daily monsoon rain began, we went back to our room to make a plan for the evening. The hotel had a spa inside so we went there to ask about pricing and availability. Imagine our intense excitement to find that everything was 20% off, and there was a discount on top of that because it was off season. The spa itself was so beautiful; I’ve never been somewhere so tranquil and fancy. Instead of glass windows it was just open air, with candles glowing everywhere. The women working there served us some very tasty and relaxing tea as the rain poured down outside. Kaitlynn and I enjoyed an insanely cheap Hot Stone massage for an hour and a half. Never in my life have I had a massage so excellent; it was a perfect way to end an incredible day. Once our massages were over, we spent the late night taking advantage of free internet and catching up with what is going on at home.

DAY TWO

I woke up at six am on my second day in Malaysia in order to Skype back home. The sunset on the balcony overlooking the beach and mountains was positively breath taking. Joe was back at 8:30 am to take us around more of Penang in his convenient van. He drove us through Batu Ferringhi, the resort area of Penang. We stopped to view a mosque that floats on the water and is entirely earthquake/tsunami proof. The Tropical Spice Garden was our next stop. This place was absolutely amazing. It was my first time exploring a rainforest, and this one was beautiful cared for and had the most intricate cobble stone paths and tranquil ponds. As we walked through the gardens, our tour guide would pick various leaves off their bushes and give them to us to taste or smell. Most of them were spices such as cumin, coriander, curry, pepper, anise, etc., etc. My absolute favorite part of the spice gardens was when we came to the chili pepper section. There were bushes with tiny little purple peppers about half the size of my pinky finger. I was so excited to see something relatively familiar! Our guide encouraged us to pick them off the bush and eat them, so I went for one of the purple ones. I had never eaten a purple pepper before. I took a deep breath, prepared myself for the heat, and took a bite. WHOA. It was a completely different kind of hot from New Mexico chiles. It burned my lips and throat but not my tongue. This tiny purple chile pepper blew my favorite green chile from back home right out of the water. It was incredible and I loved it. Around the same time as we ate the peppers, a large group of dusky leaf monkeys came and were playing and jumping in the tree canopy above us. Watching them jump from tree to tree was really interesting; they moved so similarly to humans. Beyond the interesting part of watching them, it was just plain cute too. Walking further into the spice garden, I spotted an ant that was about three inches long and HUGE. Suddenly it became quite clear that we are in Asia. The same ants are for sale on kebabs in the night markets. Next we were on to observe local life in the fishing village of Teluk Bahang. There was a sense of calm and quiet here that was indescribable. It was already about noon, and yet it was quiet as if it was the dead of night. That’s not to say there weren’t people around, there were, but everything was so calm. Men and women going about their daily lives and chores. We walked down to the jetty near the water and I noticed the girls ahead of me looking at something in the water next to an elder Malaysian man. This was John, a retired tour operator we happened to run into in this most tranquil of places. He was pointing out the huge iguanas swimming in the water near the fishing boats. These lizards were huge - maybe about three or four feet long. They were swimming lazily around before one of them came on shore to sunbathe on a tiny little beach across the way from us. Observing them was great fun; most of us had never seen an animal like that in the wild before. John, who was about eighty, talked to us for quite a while about his career as a tour operator all over Malaysia. This is what I love most about independent travel; you get to meet people and spend as much time as you like talking with them. If we weren’t convinced already, John’s stories sealed the deal for most of us to return to Malaysia someday. By this time, we were all hungry. Back in the taxi with Joe, we insisted that he take us for real, local Malaysian food. He was astounded. “Are you sure?” he kept asking us. We told him we wanted to go to his favorite place to eat in the area. Joe’s face lit up. He asked us once again if we were certain (he must have thought we were prissy princesses from America) and then drove us to a little open air roadside restaurant. There were no tourists there. It was a huge buffet of every kind of sea food you can imagine. There were sting rays, shellfish, whole prawns and shrimps, and other meats, tofus and curries as well. We piled our plates up and sat down. Everyone in the restaurant seemed pretty curious as to what us tourists were doing there. The food was absolutely incredible and it was a really great cultural experience to eat with the locals, asking Joe to tell us what we were eating. In the end, my meal cost about $1 USD. Heading back to the ship, Joe had us make one last stop at a fruit stand to try some mango and dragon fruit which were delicious! I’ve never had fruit that fresh. Once we arrived at the ship, we had to go through the tendering process. Essentially what this meant was that the ship was not docked on land, but out at sea in the harbor. So we all had to board a lifeboat to get to the ship and then board the ship via stairs leading down from the fifth deck. It was actually really interesting to be able to see what the lifeboats look like inside, and we all hoped it was the only time we would have to. Kaleigh and I then set out on a service trip to the Shan Children’s Home for the evening. This was hands down the best service visit I have participated in on the entire voyage. This home offers shelter to 25 children ages 6-16 who are traumatized by domestic abuse or drug abuse happening at home. When they come to the home they are put into school and provided counseling. We were able to sit and speak with the director while the children did their Hindu prayers in Tamil in the living room. He told us about his philosophies in running the home. They try to give the children a very structured lifestyle so that they can keep their minds off of the trauma and develop discipline. The children are kept at the home until they are 21 so that they can go to university without being pressured for money by their parents. In order to keep the children focused and intellectual, each child is encouraged to read two hours a day. When the children were done with prayers, we went into the living room to interact with them. Each child introduced themselves and announced their ambitions. The crowd was full of future doctors, lawyers, teachers and policemen. I was absolutely astounded by how well adjusted these children were after just having heard the terrible abuse most of them suffered at home. The dynamic was so loving and familial between not only the children but also the director and staff. We were then able to give each of the children a gift for Deepavali, the Hindu Festival of Lights. This holiday was happening about four days after our visit. I was so touched to be able to give the children a gift, and as I handed them out every single one hugged and thanked me. They were so excited to receive gifts; the director told us that a huge aim of the home is to make the children feel liked loved individuals and it felt incredible to contribute to this goal. Dinner was served after gift time, and we were able to eat with the children and speak to them about their schooling and hobbies. Each child is encourage to pursue a hobby in the arts. I began to color with the children and found many of them to be quite gifted artists. They all had such hope for the future and it was intensely inspiring. When it was time to leave, the girls I had been coloring with each came up and hugged me and thanked me for taking the time to color with them. It was all I could do to hold back tears. I did not want to leave; if it were up to me I would have stayed there to work for the rest of my life. This home is making such a palpable difference in the lives of these children. They were all well adjusted, polite, talented and ambitious. I hope someday to be able to return there and see how the children have progressed. That night, our group went out in search of karaoke. We arrived at the absolute biggest mall I have ever seen. It was seven stories, with the place for karaoke on the seventh floor. We were hopelessly lost almost instantly. Seeing Westernized ads for fashion and food was an acute form of culture shock. When we finally found the place, it was unbelievably expensive and we decided against it. So we turned around, walked down the street outside, and found a perfect bar with live music. On SAS, everything happens for a reason. We had a great night.

DAY THREE

Our third and final day in Malaysia was spent leisurely exploring Georgetown. If there weren’t Chinese, Hindu and Buddhist temples everywhere, you would think that you were in Europe. The architecture is a combination of French and Portuguese and is positively wonderful to walk around. Our first goal was to find internet, so we found a Brazilian coffee shop that had free WIFI. I had an incredible breakfast croissant here. We went into Little India, where Deepavali celebrations were starting early. The air there was festive and lively and we couldn’t help but tap our feet in time with the music blast from all the shops. Our last mission for Malaysia was to find stamps. Mission accomplished and feet hurting, Joe, Kaleigh and I made our way back to the ship in a huge thunderstorm and torrential downpour. In Asia during monsoon season, the skies open and it pours between 2 and 6 for at least 20 minutes every day. The rain is unlike any I’ve ever been in. It is warm and refreshing. After the downpour is the coolest part of the day and it is beautiful to walk around and observe the people come out and set back to their daily work.

Malaysia was my favorite country so far. There was something about the spirituality, the people, the food, the scenery that I really connected to. I can say with confident that it will only be a matter of time before I come back and spend much more than three days in this incredible place. Next up: Cambodia and Vietnam!

Namaste...from India!

Wed, 19 Oct 2011 11:28:14 -0400

They warned us that India would be a culture shock. They warned us that it would be overwhelming: the poverty, the pollution, the crowded streets. They told us that it would change our life and the way we looked at things forever. And yet, some part of me wasn’t worried; I felt prepared. How could it really be that bad? I could, most certainly, handle this. Boy was I wrong. The MV Explorer arrived in India under a thick fog of humidity unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. You can smell India before you see it. It’s the smell of Indian food, spices and feces that have been put in a pile and set on fire. Really most unique. We docked in Chennai, which is the 8th most densely populated city in the WORLD. Our dock was extremely industrial. From deck six I looked out on rows of cargo containers and cars that would be shipped all over the world. This was the first country in which we had to go through customs every single time we exited and entered the port; full passport check, full security scan, body searching…the whole deal. But I digress.

Day One - Chennai

Our first day in India myself and about eight other friends went in search of shopping. The main mode of transportation in India is auto rickshaws, which are essentially three wheeled motorcycles with a little carriage in back that can hold three people comfortably. We split into groups and were off into the unbelievably hectic world of Indian traffic. No one obeys street rules here; lanes are ubiquitous. From this first ride alone, I can recall almost being fatally hit three times. Driving in India is most certainly exhilarating. Another fun trait about taking the auto rickshaws is that they insist on taking you to shops of their choice before reaching your destination. These shops are almost always very expensive, but the rickshaw driver gets a cut from the sales if he takes you there and you buy something. Ours took us to two different shops before we insisted he take us directly where we wanted to go. Finally Stephanie, Amanda and I arrived at T Nagar, which is a huge shopping district in Chennai. We were under the impression that it was one shop, and since the stops had delayed us, we never saw our other friends again. The three of us spent most of the day wandering through the shops, dodging very pushy merchants and admiring the beautiful saris hanging in all the windows. For lunch, we stopped at a vegetarian Indian restaurant that looked clean. Interestingly, they refused to serve us Indian food. Surrounding us were several Indian families eating Indian food that looked out of this world. When I tried to order something Indian, the waiter looked at me and said, “No. For you, spaghetti.” I told him I didn’t want spaghetti, tried to order again, and he just left. In the end, we were served a vegetable plate, mushroom soup, and nothing for me. So my first attempt at eating Indian food was a failure. We returned to the ship via another nail bitingly terrifying rickshaw ride and prepared for a real treat. That evening, we went to a welcome reception hosted by Indian students for us SAS students. It was truly an excellent evening. When we got to the hotel, they greeted us with flower garlands and bindis (the red dot that Indian women wear on their foreheads). The whole reception was held in an open air ballroom with beautiful gardens and decorations. We were able to get henna and buy Indian jewelry and art. They served us a large variety of Indian desserts which were delicious. The indisputable highlight of the evening was the Bharathanatyam. This is a traditional form of Indian dancing that takes years for the girls to perfect. The training is similar to ballet in the amount of discipline and perfection that is required. The girls usually start around age three or four. Every single aspect of their dances is choreographed, from fingers to eye movements. Each dance tells a story about the Hindu gods and their adventures or romantic relationships. Watching these women dance was truly moving for me and it made me miss dancing myself. When the performance was over, I was sad to leave. The welcome reception was such an incredible experience and it created in me so many feelings of gratitude for where I am and what I am doing.

Day Two - Kanchipuram RIDE Overnight

My main objective for India was to learn about the people and the human rights issues they still face. While many of my friends went off to the Taj Mahal or to yoga retreats, I chose to do an overnight through SAS into a town called Kanchipuram where an organization called RIDE operates. RIDE (Rural Institute for Development Education) is an organization that aims to improve human rights within the Tamil Nadu region of India, specifically in rural areas. Their main focuses are liberating child laborers and empowering women through self-help groups and micro lending programs. Since 1984, RIDE has liberated 40,000 children from labor in the sari weaving industry and work in stone quarries. They take these children and put them into Bridge Schools, which help them reintegrate back into society and learn the skills that they have missed out on before funneling them into the public school system. Our first stop on the trip was to one of the Bridge Schools, where we were able to speak and play with the children. Many of the children we interacted with were still working at the sari loom or in the quarries and were extremely shy and malnourished. Despite this, they were so eager to just let loose, play and laugh. For about two hours we played a variety of games in both Hindi and English. After play time, we all squeezed into a classroom with the children and listened to the director and founder of the organization speak. He introduced us to a girl that I had previously interacted with and told us her story. This girl appeared to be about eight and I was shocked when he informed us that she was seventeen and already a mother. We were told that many of the children we had been interacting with were much older than they appeared but had had their growth stunted due to their work conditions and malnutrition. At this school in particular, they were focusing on traffic safety. In Kanchipuram, four people die in traffic accidents every day. The children showed us their practice driving and traffic course (which they are taught to navigate on foot). Our whole group did the Hokey Pokey with the kids and then it was time to say goodbye. We drove in the dark back to Kanchipuram and went to sleep in our cots at the RIDE headquarters.

Day Three - RIDE

Bright and early the next morning, we were driving out of Kanchipuram and into a drastically more rural area of Tamil Nadu. Buildings stacked on top of each other soon morphed into endless rice paddies and palm trees with the occasional grouping of huts and buildings. We drove into a rural village and got off the bus at their RIDE headquarters. The group was greeted by about twenty women in RIDE uniform saris ready to give us flowers and bindis as a welcome. All of the women were so incredibly kind and generous; they proceeded to give us a tour of the village before taking us to another bridge school. The children here were noticeably more shy because they received less white visitors. Many of them were entirely unsure of how to act around us and ran off. The ones that I was able to interact with were very eager to show my friend Eva and I their English reading skills. The women and men that worked at the school then blessed us with a traditional fire blessing where they take oil in a dish, light it on fire, and then bless your forehead with a drop of the hot oil. The experience was very spiritual and exuded an intense feeling of welcome and happiness. We left the children to focus on their lesson and walked to an area outside of the main village. Ahead of me, I noticed some sort of commotion. People were pointing up. Some girls were shrieking. What the hell was going on? The ship’s doctor, who was on our trip, came sprinting to the back of the line. “Look in that Banyan tree! Do you SEE them?” I looked up into this huge, ancient looking tree and saw what the commotion was about. This tree was filled with bats. Maybe three to five hundred of them. Not little bats, either; these were flying foxes. Huge furry bats that, the doctor reminded us, would almost certainly give us rabies if one of us was bit. Everyone hung around the three for a while, entranced by this incredible show of nature right in front of us. It was the middle of the day but all the bats were quite active; most likely because the presence of a huge group of loud people had startled them. Some of us quietly observed the Indian women collecting the bat’s droppings, no doubt to use as fuel in the home later. Soon the women began to urge us onward toward a small structure in the distance. The structure turned out to be the village temple. Inside, the temple was almost pitch black. A village woman held my hand to guide me around various statues that were on the ground. We were led into an inner chamber with a statue of a Hindu god. An elderly man lit another fire blessing and blessed us all again. Yet another memorable and spiritual experience from India to recall for years to come. Exiting the temple, we all had to wait for our eyes to readjust the sun. Our group was then led to observe the weaving of a sari. The women took us to a very small free standing room. Inside, the silk sari weaving loom filled the entire space of the room. There was a gentlemen inside creating a beautiful blue sari. The loom itself is very complex, with three layers of thread, different cards to switch out on top to create the pattern, and several other intricate components. This loom in particular used to be operated by children in the village. It was mind boggling to me that a child as young as four could operate such a mechanism. We were told that it takes one person fifteen days, twelve hours a day, to make one sari. Children used to be favored to do this because of their small hands and the ability of their bosses to pay them less. It was time to leave the village after the sari weaving demonstration. The group loaded back onto the bus and soon arrived at a cotton dying factory. Walking into the factory I was immediately choked by the thick smoke. In order to set the dye into the cotton, there have to be extremely hot fires burning and heating up the water. They also deal with harsh chemicals to bleach the cotton. It was almost completely dark inside. Walking through, I kept reminding myself that children used to work in these conditions in this very factory; and that although RIDE had liberated the children from this particular place many children still do work in such conditions. Our guide told us that the children used to make 100 rupees a month (roughly $2 USD) and that 90% of any workers child or adult get lung disease or cancer. There were about eight men working that day, and we were told that due to the heavy lifting and demanding work, children would have to be doubled. So there would have been 16 children working in the factory before RIDE liberated them. Such facts are heartbreaking, but I also find them intensely motivating. If an organization such as RIDE can succeed, anything is possible. The incredible thing about doing Semester at Sea is that I have been given the opportunity to connect with organizations that I could potentially work for in the future. We eventually had to leave the factory because some of us, including myself, were starting to have asthma attacks or just intense coughs. This was the kind of experience I wish I could save forever: sight, smell, touch, sound. I wish I could share it with others in order to motivate and inform. But we did have to leave for lunch. At the RIDE headquarters, we were served some excellent Indian food with the freshest watermelon and mini bananas ever for dessert. We were joined by some of the women in the self-help and micro loan group for a question and answer session. This was another great opportunity to connect with the locals and have a dialogue about the realities of living as a woman in India. Several of the women were widows, which is a very stigmatized position in India. These women are left with no financial support when their husbands die and are forbidden from remarrying. RIDE helps them to start their own small businesses such as buying a cow to sell milk or starting a telephone stand. At the end of the conversation, the women laughed while we attempted to tie saris ourselves before graciously offering to teach us. All of us said a bittersweet goodbye to the RIDE headquarters and left Kanchipuram for Chennai. On the way, we stopped at a certified child labor free silk shop to buy a sari, scarves or bed spreads. They showed us exactly where the saris were made and then took us upstairs to make our purchases. Prices here were extremely high but it was good to know that children did not suffer in the making of anything. Souvenirs purchased, we began the long drive in crazy Indian traffic back to the ship. I slept feeling content and inspired by my India experiences.

Day Four - Mamallapuram

One of my main goals for India was to spend time exploring the ancient temples in the southern area where we were docked. So off Phoebe, Sarah and I went for a day in Mamallapuram, a UNESCO World Heritage Site renowned for its seventh century temples. We found a cab driver named Ganesh right outside the port gate who was willing to drive us around all day for a reasonable price. On the way, we stopped at the Dakshinachitra Heritage Village for some culture and shopping. Dakshinachitra is an artists village set up to represent each region of India. In each region are artisans creating pieces that are known for that specific area. The shopping was phenomenal, the atmosphere relaxed and green and we learned a lot about the many diverse regions of India. We hopped back in Ganesh’s tiny little car and were off to Mamallapuram. The village of Mamallapuram itself was very laid back with great shopping and lots of restaurants. Ganesh first took us to a temple complex and Krishna’s Butterball, which is a huge round stone sitting precariously on another stone incline. I will admit that at first I was underwhelmed with the size of the temples. In the pictures, they looked huge but in person they were rather small. Then Ganesh explained to us that each one was carved from a single giant rock in the seventh century….I was instantly more impressed. As we were walking around without Ganesh, many Indians approached us to give us tours. We politely declined until they started to get aggressive, asking if we were from the ship. At the very beginning of the trip, we were advised by a lecturer to tell locals that we were from Canada if they became suspicious or aggressive. My friend Sarah made the split second decision to tell them we were from French Canada. Lo and behold, one of the men spoke PERFECT French. Good thing Sarah was fluent. He was about our age and gave us an entire tour for free in French. I could pick up most of it but poor Phoebe was totally in the dark. Next Ganesh took us to the another site called the Five Rathas. Here, there were huge life size elephant sculptures again carved entirely out of one rock each. They were absolutely gorgeous. We walked around the site for a while before becoming intensely hungry. Ganesh insisted on taking us to a French inspired Indian restaurant because he was worried anywhere else might make us sick. Another failure at eating Indian food for Sarah, but the food was good nonetheless. The entire restaurant was an open air balcony where you could sit on cushions on the floor. We ordered margherita pizzas and sincerely enjoyed our ice cold sodas before setting out again. I did some shopping on a street right near the beach. Finally, we were off to the cornerstone destination of any visit to Mamallapuram: the Shore Temple. This temple, again carved out of huge rocks, sits right on the beach. The details of the carvings were breathtaking. The entire temple is surrounded by sculptures of cows, which are extremely sacred in the Hindu religion. One could physically feel all the history and spirituality of this incredible place. The three of us walked around in awe for quite a while just absorbing everything. Reluctantly, we left the temple and Mamallapuram in order to be back at the ship before dark.

Day Four - Missionaries of Charity

Day Four in India dawned bright and early around 4:30 am. The goal of Sarah, Mallory and I was to go to the five AM chanting service at a Hindu temple in Chennai. I desperately wanted to observe such a vastly different religious service from what I am used to and was very excited about meditating and observing this part of Indian daily life. We trudged out into the intense heat, left the ship, and hit a slight bump in our plans. The shuttles that had been taking us from the ship to the port gate were not there yet. SAS had told us very strictly that we should not walk inside the port due to the large amount of traffic and movement of heavy cargo. Alas, we were stuck and unable to get outside and to the temple. Back to sleep it was. I woke up a couple hours later rejuvenated and ready to do more shopping for family and friends. Mallory, Phoebe and I set out to Spencer’s Plaza, a fairly westernized five story mall in the heart of Chennai. We shopped around until lunchtime and then headed back to the ship so that Mallory and I would be in time for our trip to the Missionaries of Charity Orphanage. This is Mother Theresa’s division of sisters, and I was very much looking forward to this trip as she is a huge human rights role model for me. We knew something was wrong when it had been an hour in the bus and we had not reached our destination. This was when the tour operator finally decided to tell us that the orphanage in Chennai was closed and the next closest one was two hours away. Both Mallory and I were rather frustrated that no one had mentioned this beforehand. Finally, our bus pulled up alongside an orphanage full of children with the nuns walking around in their tell tale white and blue saris, rosaries swinging from their hips. We idled there for about a minute and suddenly drove away. Everyone on the bus was intensely confused and frustrated by this point. We drove deeper into whatever town we were in at this point and stopped again. The guide instructed us to exit the bus and enter the orphanage…but I didn’t see an orphanage or children. When I stepped outside of the bus, I saw a sign reading, “Missionaries of Charity Home for the Destitute and Dying.” We were ushered into a compound with a central courtyard and several surrounding buildings. A nun met us and took us on a tour. Walking through the halls, many adult women with extreme deformities and mental disabilities reached out to us. Upon returning to the courtyard, many in our group began to become nervous. Where were the children? The nun was perplexed. There were no children here, everyone here had been cast out of their families due to their conditions or were dying. Needless to say, none of us were mentally or physically prepared for this. It was absolutely soul shattering. We had no idea how to approach or interact with these women who could not speak, who did not understand why we were there staring at them. I felt uncomfortable for treating these women like they were in a zoo, looking in on them from the outside. It seemed to me that such a trip would have required some sort of orientation or debriefing about how to conduct ourselves. The nun implored us to interact with the women but many of us felt frozen. After a little while, I gained some confidence and went inside one of the wards. Mallory and I sat down with a woman who could not communicate whatsoever. We gave her some crayons and colored together. Nothing in India paralyzed and shocked me more than this experience. I had no idea what to do. At first, I was upset about the experience. I had come to meet the children, learn about their educational opportunities. Looking back on it though, I’m glad it happened. I was exposed to an entirely different human rights issue in India that forced me outside of my comfort zone and in turn helped to build my personal character. I was able to interact with these women in a way I never thought myself capable. We stayed for a couple hours coloring and blowing bubbles with the women before loading onto our bus and driving back to Chennai. It stuck in my heart that these women will never be able to escape their reality like I had done so easily. They were right: India does change you.

Day Six - Bala Mandir Orphanage

My last day in India, I wanted to experience an orphanage and a working temple. I left the ship early in the morning with the intention of visiting the Rama Krishna Mutt Temple. We found a rickshaw driver and were on our way. It soon became apparent that he had no idea where he was going, and he tried to drop us off at a tiny temple on the side of the road in what looked to be a less than safe area. The girls I was with refused to get out of the rickshaw. We asked him to kindly take us to the temple we had requested but it was clear he didn’t know where it was. Instead of getting even more lost, we asked him to take us to the post office. There, we bought lots of postcards and stamps to send home. Defeated by our failed attempt at going to the temple but unwilling to waste our last day in India on the ship, we resigned ourselves to more shopping at Spencer’s Plaza. Back at the ship, my boss Josh let me hop on one of the SAS trips to the Bala Mandir Orphanage in Chennai. We drove into the T Nagar district and were let off into a very well kept compound. The buildings and grounds were incredibly clean. The director of the orphanage met us and gave us a quick tour before unleashing us on the children. My friend Kaitlynn and I went into one of the boys rooms. The teacher inside explained to us that this room in particular housed about 30 boys ages 8-12. The entire orphanage was home to 350 children. Kaitlynn and I sat down on the ground with the boys and commenced a coloring session. Some of the boys were incredibly talented artists. Bubbles have become my secret weapon with the children during my travels. They absolutely love to chase and pop the bubbles, and we played this game for quite a while as well. At one point, there were only about eight boys in the room so I gave each of them a pencil. I was happy to see them excited over their gift. Suddenly, about twenty other boys flooded the room demanding pencils from me, but I didn’t have any left. Never in my life have I felt like more of a witch than on this day, having to tell orphan children in India that I don’t have any pencils left for them. One little boy, about four or five, began to cry and continued to call me a liar for the rest of the day. It is difficult to feel like you are doing something good when you realize how each of these children wants to feel equal in attention and love. In the end, it comes down to not giving things out unless you have enough for everyone and I certainly did not have 350 pencils. Of course it is heartbreaking to say no, but in the end it is always better to give donations to the teacher first. This was another lesson I had to learn the hard way. All in all, Bala Mandir Orphanage was a wonderful experience. So many of the boys that I interacted with had such promise in both intellect and creativity. When the end of the day came, I hugged the boys goodbye and spent the bus ride back to the ship contemplating how I could help them in the future.

India does change you. Before India, I had many ideas about how to improve human rights and the standard of living globally. India made you realize how naïve you are. India makes you feel helpless. The people of India make you feel unbelievably welcome in their infinite kindness. The population problem is so apparent in the way that people live on top of each other. Personal space is non existent. Pollution and trash is everywhere, and yet there are beautiful and clean temples everywhere. It is a place full of contradictions. There is no way that one can entirely grasp India in six days, and so I shall return to explore the North someday sooner rather than later. India is, most certainly, not for the faint of heart. But if you open your heart to India, it will no doubt embrace you in return.

Relaxing in Mauritius

Thu, 06 Oct 2011 15:54:03 -0400

Mark Twain once said that God saw Mauritius and then created heaven. The MV Explorer docked on this incredible island country a day early due to a medical emergency. One of the Life Long Learners detached his retina and was in danger of going blind, so the ship sped up to 24 knots right after South Africa and hurried for help. Unfortunately, our early arrival did not mean us students could get off the ship early and so we longingly viewed the island from the windows of our classrooms. Our itinerary only allotted us one day on this paradise, and so at six am we were ready to leave the ship and begin our explorations. Semester at Sea used to stay in Mauritius for four days when they first began going there in 2005. The reason we are now given only one day to stay on the island is because students have, in the past, completely trashed the island if allowed to stay there overnight. Villas were completely destroyed two semesters ago, and so now we are barred from staying there for more than twelve hours. Of course, with only one day in a country one has to make a choice of one activity or destination to view. Bogged down in midterms on the ship, our group decided to give ourselves a day of relaxation and headed for the beach known as Flic en Flac. A funny name for the most stunning beach I’ve ever seen. Our taxi driver drove us through the capital, Port Louis, and gave us some interesting information about his home. Mauritius is the ninth most densely populated island in the world with 1.3 million people. Religious diversity is a trademark of the island, with large Hindu, Muslim, Christian and Buddhist populations. There is no official language, the three most commonly spoken languages being English, French and Creole. I was excited to practice my French but soon found that the creole accent was rather hard for me to get around. During our drive to the beach, our driver also explained to us that Mauritius’ universities are becoming a popular destination for many Africans who cannot afford to go to Europe for an education. Upon arriving at the beach, many of us had to scrape our jaws off the ground in our amazement. White sand, turquoise water, palm trees and extensive views of stunning mountains. We found ourselves two umbrellas to put our things under and immediately got in the water. Despite the fact that it was seven am, the water was warm. The beach itself was deserted and pristine; almost completely quiet except for the soothing sound of birds chirping and waves crashing. After swimming and watching the tropical fish come out of the rocks near the beach for about three hours, we went in search of breakfast. The only restaurant open was a gorgeous courtyard restaurant with zen water fountains and fancy table settings. They seated us and we ordered breakfast and drinks and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Breakfast consisted of eggs, baguette, frites (aka French fries), smoked sausage and a side of green chile. Green chile?! The New Mexican in me was both excited and skeptical. I took a huge dollop of the green stuff and spread it on my toast. Lo and behold, the stuff was hot! Needless to say, I put it on every piece of my food that I could. Looking back, I should have asked them to buy a bottle for my withdrawals on the ship. I also ordered a pina colada and tried a mojito, which would in the end prove to have been a bad idea. The doctor forgot to tell us at preport that Mauritian water was not exactly potable, so I have been a little sick since. Stomachs full, it was back to the beach for the rest of our short day. We laid in the sun, played in the water and met a wonderful young Mauritian man who had never met anyone from the United States before. In what has become a trend in each country I have been to, he was very much interested in talking about President Obama. He also wanted to know if any of us had met Will Smith since his favorite movie was I, Robot. My friend Amanda has a sizable tattoo on her shoulder and he wanted to know if Kat Von D had done it. I’m always fascinated by what the people we encounter in each country hear and see about American culture. For the rest of the day I enjoyed myself swimming back and forth in the water with my friends and just generally relaxing. We left the beach around 2:30 when a group of 30 quite drunk SASers showed up there and started making lots of noise. Traffic was rather congested and we arrived back at the ship around 4 pm. While we were only required back on the ship at six, it is always a good idea to get there early because closer to on ship time the line can be long and you can risk getting dock time. We knew that the group of 180 students going on a catamaran cruise were arriving at 4:45 so went wanted to beat them. All in all, Mauritius was a wonderful day and I can add it to the growing list of places I plan on returning to someday. On to India!

Experiencing Ubuntu in South Africa

Tue, 04 Oct 2011 16:10:02 -0400

****Sorry for any typos in this entry. I’m too exhausted to proofread it very closely and wanted to get it posted in the interest of time. Please e-mail me anytime at scmartinez@semesteratsea.net. I would love to hear any comments or questions or just news from home!***** DAY 1 - Walking Tour of Apartheid Capetown Arriving in Capetown, South Africa by ship may be one of the most beautiful sights to see. I woke up at five am and met my friends on deck seven to witness the sun rising over the famous Table Mountain. When we went onto the deck, it was still pitch dark and freezing so went scurried back inside to grab some hot chocolate and wait for a little while longer. About an hour later we went back outside and watched as the brilliant orange sun began to peak over the mountains. This was perhaps one of the most stunning views of my life: the suns rays through the clouds, the reflection off of the Atlantic, the lights of Capetown and the good company. Eating breakfast, the ship began moving close and closer to the land and the scenery became more breathtaking in detail. The mountains were majestic. Nathan would be pleased to know that we sailed right past the World Cup Stadium. My early morning rise began to wear on me, so I went back to sleep to await docking and because I had an FDP departing from the ship at noon. This FDP was for my history class and was a walking tour of apartheid Capetown with a remarkable man named Bishop Peter Storey. Bishop Storey was a white preacher and human rights activist who was very much involved in the anti-apartheid movement. He joined us on the ship for lunch and then we set out for the District Six Museum. District Six was a black community in Capetown that was designated a white area during apartheid and completely bulldozed. Millions of people - many families who had lived there for generations - were forcibly removed from their homes and put into shanty towns and slums. The District Six Museum used to be the church for the entire area, and was Bishop Storey’s church for several years during apartheid. Inside the museum on the ground is a map of the neighborhoods where those who lived there have written their family names where their homes used to be. On the walls are the old street signs of District Six. Hanging from the ceiling is a large cloth on which former residents of the district have written their memories and hopes for post-apartheid Capetown. Walking through the museum was a very profound and intense experience; I felt the pain and loss that had happened there and was yet inspired by the hope that the messages on the walls conveyed. Bishop Storey’s presence and insight made the experience that much more personal. There were some points during the tour that I felt myself visibly shaking, and I had tears in my eyes more than once. After the museum, we continued on foot to the slave memorial and then to Capetown’s Parliament building and the President’s home. The President’s home was very interesting because we were able to walk right up to the gate and look inside; no security and no cameras. The contrast between this and the White House was not lost on us students. Continuing on our walking tour, we came to the old Race Classification Annex. It was here that, similar to the Holocaust, South Africans were classified racially and given pass books and IDs that labeled them. Without these pass books, one would be arrested and sentenced to either hard labor or years in jail without trial. Millions of black South Africans met this fate. At this building are the only two segregated benches left in Capetown; one that reads “whites only” and another that reads “non-whites only.” Bishop Storey explained to us the many demeaning acts that occurred within the walls in front of us. Finally, we moved on to St. George’s Cathedral, which is where Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela appeared at the end of apartheid. Inside the Cathedral’s café we had the rare opportunity for a question and answer session with the Bishop. He spoke to us in more detail about the atrocities committed during the apartheid and his own role in the resistance. During his years involved, he was arrested five times along with his wife and son. At the end of the day, I felt so blessed to have been able to meet and speak with such an incredible person. It is opportunities like this that inspired me to do Semester at Sea and I am so glad to have experienced such a profound tour of a city like Capetown. Back at the ship, I met up with a big group of girlfriends and we went in search of pizza. I have to explain very quickly that the food on the ship is downright awful. We have what we call the three P’s almost everyday: pasta, potatoes and pork. Its all very heavy and all carbs and always the same. So finding pizza was a major goal of ours for Capetown. Of course I knew that I wouldn’t be finding my favorite, green chile, but I was still excited. We ended up at a great little place where we spent our first evening in Capetown eating pizza, drinking Pina Coladas and planning out the rest of our stay. Satisfied with our meal, about half the group continued on to a bar called The Dubliner, where we were lucky enough to encounter a very energetic live concert. We all enjoyed the local South African beer, called Castle, and danced the night away! DAY 2 - Khayelitsha Township The next morning I woke up feeling really, really sick. After Ghana, almost everyone on the ship got an upper respiratory infection and I caught it about two days before Capetown so I was still feeling the effects pretty heavily. This is where “carpe diem” began to be my mantra for South Africa. Despite the fact that all I wanted to do was sleep and get better, I forced myself to get out there and enjoy my six days in port. Kaleigh and I met up for breakfast to plan our overnight trip into Khayelitsha Township. The game plan we made was to go back to our rooms, shower, pack and meet in 45 minutes. Two and a half hours later, Kaleigh’s phone call awoke me from my sick nap. I didn’t feel too bad though because she had fallen asleep as well. Packed and ready, we headed into the V & A Waterfront, where the MV was docked, to arrange for a car to take us whale watching the next day. Still feeling a little under the weather, Kaleigh decided to a get a coffee while I walked around the market gaining strength. Finally feeling more rejuvenated and alive, we eagerly hailed a taxi and set out into Khayelitsha township. Arriving in developed, clean and westernized Capetown was a culture shock after being in Ghana and Morroco and I found that driving out of Capetown and into the vast townships almost felt like coming home. The stratification of white and black society becomes intensely and shockingly apparent about five minutes outside of Capetown. High rise buildings and malls morph into tin shacks and roadside food vendors with sheep’s head. Our taxi driver entered Khayelitsha 15 minutes after leaving Capetown and took us to the front door of Vicky’s Bed and Breakfast, where we would be staying the night. Vicky is an incredible entrepreneurial woman in the middle of a township full of unimaginable poverty and desperation. Here, she has opened her home to travelers who wish to immerse themselves in the real South Africa and forge personal instead of superficial relationships with the country. Her two story “shack” is certainly one of the nicest on the block, and boasts to be the “smallest hotel in South Africa.” She is probably right. Right when we got there, we were greeted by her amazing daughters who took us to our room and immediately started asking us questions about where we were from. One of the girls was really excited to straighten our hair - she wants to be a hairdresser - and for the first time on this trip I was sorry I hadn’t brought a flat iron. Since we arrived in Khayelitsha on the South African holiday of Heritage Day, Vicky was in the town celebrating so her eldest daughter Sandy offered to give us a short walking tour around the immediate vicinity. She took us to the local grocery and bar and then told us she wanted to show us her favorite food: smileys. I could tell she expected this to shock us Americans and was quite excited. When we reached the stall of meat, the old women there brightened and were so excited to see us that both Kaleigh and I got a hug and a kiss from each. Introductions over, the women pulled out some smileys for us to look at. Turns out that smileys are in fact sheep’s heads which, when they die, stick in a gruesome smiley face. Sandy turned to us and said, “ready to eat?” In that moment, I thought that Kaleigh might pass out and was sure that I would have to go through with it politely and would surely be sick the rest of my time in Capetown. All three women laughed at the looks on our faces and told us they were joking. Having viewed the smileys, Sandy told us that we should go back because she was too young to take us around all of Khayelitsha. Walking back, the air from Heritage Day in the streets was infectious. It was clearly a day of rest and holiday much needed in the township. The children had their faces painted and the women were dressed up in tradition !Khosa or Zulu garb. !Khosa, the language spoken by much of the black community in the townships, incorporates clicking. During our time in Khayelitsha, Kaleigh and I particularly enjoyed listening to our hosts speak the language rapid fire, laughing and clicking away. Every time they got us to try and say the words with clicks in them it would just end up with Kaleigh and I blushing while several of our hosts rolled on the floor and laughed. We returned to Vicky’s for a rest and got to meet the woman herself. Vicky is this incredibly regal and noble women, probably not older than 45, who has spear headed the movement to get tourists into the township for a view of real South Africa. She is intensely proud and friendly and was excited to have Semester at Sea students staying with her. After chatting with her for a while, she set us each up with a tour guide to do a day’s walk around Khayelitsha. I set out with Solomon and Kaleigh set out with Stephen. Solomon was 23 and has lived in Khayeltisha his whole life in a one bedroom home with his mother, five siblings, their spouses and children. During our walk, I learned much more from him than from any of the classes I take on the ship. We talked about anything and everything, all while walking through a vast town full of houses held together by gravity, tape and rocks. They showed us that Khayelitsha has completely filled its parameters but it still growing; this is a crisis that has so far gone unaddressed by the government. Solomon took us to see the nicer sections of the township, where the government and Habitat for Humanity is building new and modern homes. I asked him how a family could qualify for a government built home and Solomon told me that his mother applied for hers in 1984. It was only built last year. This kind of corruption and lack of attention to the majority of its population is still typical in South Africa even years after apartheid. I asked Solomon if he wanted to have children. To this point in my trip, I had never come across a man or woman in port that did not. Solomon turned to me and very solemnly explained that he lives in a one bedroom home with almost 30 other people. He told me that growing up was always a struggle in such poverty and that education was hard to come by and commit to when you had to support so many people. This 23 year old man told me that he could not bring a child into Khayelitsha because of these hardships; because it would not be an easy or fair life. He explained to me that once he gets out of the township he will find a good wife and have many children whom he can feed and send to school and love without having to worry about money or violence. More than anything I hope that this can happen for Solomon. Solomon was certainly as curious about me and my world as I was about his. He asked me if it was true that a black man was President and was visibly inspired when I told him yes. He wanted to know if I would get to meet Nelson Mandela (because, he said, white people have such opportunity). I told him no, but that Desmond Tutu would be speaking to us. Solomon was so excited to hear this and asked me to tell the Archbishop “thank you, from your brother Solomon.” I was struck with the realization that Solomon is much more deserving than I to hear Archbishop Tutu speak and I wished I could have snuck him onboard. On more frivolous topics, Solomon was excited to learn that I used to be a ballerina. Step Up is his favorite movie of all time. He wanted to know how they hide the strings that hold up ballerinas when they are on point and refused to believe that there were none. I told him that there are three Step Up movies and he couldn’t believe that either; especially when I tried to explain what a 3-D film is. I agreed with Solomon when he decided that 3-D movies sounded “scary and uneccessary.” Our last stop on the walking tour was the train station, where there is a large bridge overlooking the entire township. We climbed to the top and stopped to take in the vastness. Two million black South Africans live in Khayelitsha Township alone, many without running water or electricity. Sanitary conditions are poor and a stable education is hard to come by for the over population of children. Solomon wanted to know if Khayelitsha scared me, if I felt in danger there. Truthfully, I told him, coming to Khayelitsha feels like being welcomed into the kindest family. Walking through the narrow streets and alleys I never once felt threatened or out of place. Men and women alike came up to hug us and ask questions. We headed back to Vicky’s for a little rest before meeting up with Stephen and Solomon again. They wanted us to meet their friends and honor Khayelitsha by drinking traditional South African beer. This is no ordinary beer; it is a deeply traditional and cultural experience to be invited to drink it. We went to a shack that was probably the size of my office back home. In it, a woman lived with her young daughter. Stephen and Solomon’s friends, about five of them around our age, were inside enjoying each others company. The Mama, or matriarch, of the family compound, brought in a large can (about two feet tall) full of the beer. This beer is brewed in the backyard for seven days. When you drink it, you must take off your hat, kneel, and drink as much as you can during your genuflection out of respect to the ancestors. Solomon showed us how, and then it was my turn. So many thoughts were running through my head…namely that the doctor on the ship, who constantly warns us about eating and drinking things that are not seemingly sanitary, would have a heart attack if he knew what I was about to do. The beer had flies in it. It was clearly quite chunky. I kneeled and tipped the can back and drank. The beer was VERY strong, chunky, and tasted like a combination of campfire, bananas and extreme alcohol. Nevertheless, the opportunity to share in such rich culture with a group of friends my age in South Africa was one of the best and most meaningful experiences I have ever had. The evening was full of great conversation (mostly in !Khosa with Solomon translated as quickly as he could) and a feeling of great welcoming and happiness. Children from the community gradually crept up to the house for a glimpse of the white people and we loved to dance with them. When the beer was all gone, Stephen and Solomon walked us back to Vicky’s and we bid farewell after taking some pictures together. I’ll never forget these two incredible men and am eager to return to South Africa and Vicky’s. Vicky and her daughters served us dinner and we talked a little about her business and the township itself. Exhausted from such an intensely personal and emotional day, Kaleigh and I went upstairs and to sleep. Tucked in my bed in a shack in the middle of one of the worst and largest townships in South Africa, I realized that this was by far the best day of my trip to date. And it would be hard to beat. DAY 3 - Hermanus Waking up at seven am in Vicky’s home in Khayelitsha, the first thing I noticed was that I was freezing. When we think of South Africa, we often think HOT. But Capetown was just leaving winter and in the first days of Spring, so the weather in the morning was quite chilly. Kaleigh and I had to hurry and dress because we were meeting friends back at the ship for an adventure. We came downstairs and sadly bid Vicky and her kids goodbye. Vicky told us that visitors to Capetown are often afraid of coming to the townships for fear of being robbed or killed. She asked us to spread the world about the safety, the warmth and acceptance that we had experienced there so that the world would know the true South Africa. Of course, we promised that we would. Both Kaleigh and I wished we could have stayed longer; it was so difficult to leave such incredible company, but we both knew we would be back. Our taxi driver got us back to the ship with plenty of time and after eating breakfast, we met up with Sarah T., Mallory and Kaitlynn for our day of whale watching. Before coming to South Africa, I had agonized over how to spend my time admiring the natural aspect of the country. Should I go an a day safari or to Boulder’s Beach to see the penguin colony? The drama teacher onboard the ship is from Capetown and mentioned to us students in his pre port lecture a small little town two hours outside of Capetown called Hermanus. Apparently this little town is world renowned as one of the best whale watching destinations in the world. My friends and I were sold. Thus, on our third day in South Africa we set out with a great driver named Jerome for a day of whale watching. It was nice to leave the metropolitan vibe of Capetown for a day, and the drive along the coast and through the winelands was absolutely stunning. Jerome took us right to the whale watching center when we arrived in Hermanus and we all signed up for a three hour catamaran cruise. Being in a town with absolutely no other SAS students was very relaxing and quiet, and we enjoyed South African tea while we waited for the boat to depart. The resident whale expert gave us all a brief lesson about the whales we would probably see, the Southern Right Whale and a group of about thirty tourists from all over the world set out with us on the catamaran. It only took about fifteen minutes to find three Southern Right Whales playing in the waves. Never before had I been so close to such a rare and majestic animal in its natural habitat. What was truly incredible about the whole experience is that once the whales were sighted, everyone on the ship got completely silent. For almost two hours we all watched these three incredible creatures in complete silence. The guide only interrupted to tell us that they were, in fact, mating. On the boat trip back to shore, all five of us agreed that the trip outside Capetown was more than worth it. Once back on land, Jerome drove us into the main part of Hermanus. The place was just downright charming. Seaside cafes, ice cream shops, restaurants and marimba performers were everywhere. The natural views were completely gorgeous: high mountains rolling gradually into breathtaking beaches. Starving, we all sat down to eat at a very nice little restaurant and I ordered fish and chips. The fish we had was called hake and I had never had it before but these fish and chips were hands down the best of my life. Yum. Semester at Sea is almost worth it just for the food (I jest…kind of). Stomachs satisfied, Kaleigh, Kaitlynn and I did the (somewhat treacherous) hike down to the rocky waterfront. We got very close to an adorable baby sea lion and took advantage of the views for some pictures to send home. Unwilling to leave Hermanus just yet, we asked Jerome to wait for us a little longer so we could do some shopping and then we all piled back into the van for the drive to Capetown. On the way, Jerome stopped to show us one of the beaches for the locals. It was more polluted than the average American might be used to but beautiful all the same. We were all excited to stick our feet in the Indian Ocean for the first time and again took the opportunity for a photo opp. Pleased with our day, Jerome took us back to the ship for a little rest before dinner. A group of us ended up at Mitchell’s Pub, which was the favorite hangout for SASers in Capetown because it was in walking distance of the ship. In retrospect, I am certain that Semester at Sea probably completely trashed this really nice bar during their six days in Capetown. Our group had some drinks and snacks and called it another great night in South Africa. DAY 4 - The Amy Biehl Foundation Trust Bright and early on day four, I woke up and set out on a Semester at Sea service visit to the Amy Biehl Foundation Trust. Amy Biehl, a human rights activist killed in Gugulethu township during apartheid, has long been a role model for me. She, like me, was interested in youth and female empowerment in conflict areas. For a program called Vicarious Voyage, I am corresponding with Amy Biehl High School about each port I visit in an open dialogue about global issues. I was so excited to be able to experience and observe the incredible work of the Amy Biehl Foundation Trust firsthand both for myself and to report back to Amy Biehl High School. Early in the morning, myself and about thirty other students piled into a bus and arrived at the Foundation headquarters in the middle of Capetown. They showed us a video about Amy’s life and the development and goals of the program. With five centers serving hundreds of students, the foundation offers after school programs to keep children out of the violence in the township (which is highest between 3 and 6 pm). Courses on subjects such as HIV/AIDS awareness, dance, music, gardening and sports are offered. The goal is to prevent children from becoming involved in the aspects of township life that can hold them back or hurt them, such as gang activity, drug use and unsafe sex. After a brief address from the president of the foundation, we were off to Gugulethu township and our first school visit. When we got to the school, we were greeted by many children dressed in smart, clean uniforms playing on the playground. A teacher met us and gave us a tour of the school. The first thing she showed us was the school’s garden, which was quite expansive. There were two greenhouses and about three more planting boxes as well as a compost pile. The teacher explained to us that they use the gardening program to educate children about environmental awareness and to give them a skill they can take home. When the children take home their gardening knowledge they often help their mothers to start their own garden in which they can sell their vegetables and save money by not buying produce at the market. After the tour, we were able to play with the children for a little while. I had packed a bottle of bubbles and the kids absolutely loved it. They each took turns trying to blow the bubbles themselves, me trying to explain the entire time that despite their excitement they had to blow gently. Right before we left, we were able to sit in on a lesson being held outside about baboon behavior and conservation. The lesson was taught in both !Xhosa and English. Our next stop was for lunch at Mzoli’s Meat. This is a famous braai stand in Gugulethu township. Braai is South African barbecue. We all sat down in a big outdoor tent and waited to see what kind of food they would bring out. This was definitely one of the more interesting eating experiences I have had thus far on my trip. The waiter brought out a huge platter, maybe two feet in diameter, piled about a foot high with meat of all kinds. There were sausages, chicken breasts and a whole lot of other things we did not recognize. By the time I got there, the recognizable meats were gone and so I grabbed some sausages and something that looked vaguely like a steak. I’m almost certain it was goat. There were no utensils and no napkins and this made for a very messy albeit amusing dining experience. Nevertheless, this meal was out of this world. The meat was cooked and marinated perfectly. It was also served with paap, which is like mashed potatoes except made with rice. Best of all, this tiny restaurant in a township in Capetown, South Africa had incredibly fresh salsa! I was so excited and I ate lots of it while continually urging my friend Sarah to come check out New Mexico and taste some real salsa. Stomachs full, we set out to visit another Amy Biehl school, this one an after school program. When we arrived, there was marimba music playing. Most of the students at this program were young boys learning music and dance. We were ushered into a classroom full of young boys excited to see us and ready to perform what they had learned. They did a gumboots dance, which is a form of dance that originated with black men in SA forced to work in the mines. These men had to wear rubber boots and created a form of dance that uses the boots as a percussion against the floor and their hands. They absolutely blew me away. I’ve always believed in the transformative and empowering influence that dance can have on a child, but I’ve never seen such an excellent and clear example. Sarah, a ballerina, and I were quite moved by these talented young men. They followed the gumboots performance with hip hop that was equally impressive. I could have stayed there watching and talking to these boys all day, but we had one more school to visit. The third school was more than ready for us, and had lined up an entire performance of all their different programs. We were able to watch the children play marimba music and their brass instruments, traditional African dancing, a drama performance, and a very excited performance using soup cans as percussion. Again, I was deeply moved and inspired to see that good that is happening in these young lives. During the day it came to my attention that the foundation takes ten volunteers every month to teach in the schools, and this is something that I am now planning on doing very soon. It is clear just from being around these kids that the Amy Biehl Foundation Trust is providing them with happiness, hope and self respect. Ideally, the skills and confidence that they earn from participation will motivate them to take their education through to college and make a life for themselves outside of the township. The talent of the children inspired me so intensely and further sparked my passion for human rights work. It was difficult to leave the school and its promising youths, but the sun was going down and it was time. Back at the ship, I met up with Kaleigh and Kaitlynn to find a late bit to eat. We ended up at what seemed to be a very nice pub called Ferryman’s right on the waterfront near the ship. After a great meal and great beers, I noticed Kaitlynn’s eyes get unimaginably wide. They were focused on something behind me. “Oh my god!!! There is a rat behind you!” I turned around only to see and hear the largest rat I have ever come across run across the floor behind our table. This rat must have been the size of a small cat or dog. It was HUGE. It took all three of us only about a split second to make eye contact, and then we were literally running out of the restaurant and down the street. Certainly not the most ideal end to an evening, but a memorable one for sure. DAY 5 - Spier Wine Estate Capetown’s skyline is world famous for Table Mountain, and so I felt that a visit to Capetown without going to the top of this incredible mountain would be incomplete. Kaitlynn, Joe and I met up for breakfast and set out on our adventure. There are two ways to get to the top of Table Mountain: a vertical three hour hike or a $25 open air cable car. Needless to say, we chose the cable car. It just so happened to be our luck that on the day we chose to visit the mountain, so did a Church group of about 150 people…who were all in line ahead of us. The wait to simply board the cable car took almost an hour. Regardless, the moment we set foot in that cablecar and it began to ascend I knew we had made the right choice by coming. The views were spectacular; Capetown and all its surrounding mountains and beaches were spread out below us like a painting. At the top, we hiked around for a while before running into some young South Africans from Johannesburg who wanted to meet and take a picture with us. Carter and Tuli were our age and trying to get through college as well. It was an absolute pleasure to meet them. We hiked around a little more, bought some souvenirs and took the car back down the mountain to meet our friends at the ship. Myself, Amanda, Kaleigh, Joe, Kaitlynn and Kristin all set out into the winelands for Spier Wine Estate. We hailed a taxi that would fit all of us and hired a very nice man named Nelson to be our driver for the day. For us, the main attraction of Spier was in fact not wine but cheetahs. On the grounds of this winery is an organization called Cheetah Outreach. This program helps the endangered cheetah by breeding dogs trained to sense the big cat and warn a farmer’s flock of livestock before the cheetah risks being shot. As part of the program, it is possible for visitors to meet and pet a cheetah. My cheetah’s name was Phoenix. Our friend Joe, an avid vegetarian and animal lover, was so moved by the regal cats that he was brought to tears. After teasing him for a little bit our group toured through the reserve to see the other animals they had: jackals, servals, caracals, owls and meerkats. Entirely starving, the group walked through the gorgeous grounds of the winery before coming upon the most incredible restaurant I have ever had the pleasure of eating at. Moyo’s is a restaurant in which one can literally dine in the trees. Each table is either an elegant tent or a treehouse. We went for the treehouse option and were seated at the most beautiful table I’ve ever seen. The entire menu is a buffet, and an incredible one at that. Truly some of the best food I have had the pleasure of eating. Moyo’s has a magical feeling in the air; at its center is a large and twisted old tree that has countless lanterns hanging from its branches. The ground are dotted with lush tents, waterfalls and treehouses. There was African drumming and bonfires as the sun went down. During our dinner, we had the chance to get to know our driver Nelson. My favorite aspect of this trip is meeting people, and Nelson was truly a kindhearted and hard working man. He spoke to us about his life as a taxi driver, his wife and his four children. I found myself wishing that he could be home with them instead of with us, but Nelson insisted that he was having a great day because he had never had the opportunity to pet a cheetah before. We learn so much from simply taking the initiative to get to know people. As difficult as it was to leave a place as enchanting as Moyo’s, we wanted Nelson to be able to go home and so we left feeling awed and satisfied with another incredible day in South Africa. DAY 6 - Tygerberg Children’s Hospital On my last day in Capetown, I woke up bright and early to try and procure a spot on an FDP that I needed but had not gotten due to a lottery system. Luckily enough, too many hungover students did not show, and so I was able to buy a space on the bus. This FDP (or faculty directed practicum) was for my Women’s Reproductive Health course. We drove as a class to Tygerberg Children’s Hospital, which caters to infants and children who are infected with tuberculosis or HIV/AIDS. The program, called Hope Capetown, is run by a Roman Catholic priest Fr. Stefan Hippler. While I didn’t have any particular expectations about Fr. Hippler, I was certainly surprised when into the lecture hall walked a relatively young man in skinny jeans, a black leather jacket, pierced ears and no collar. For the better part of three hours, Fr. Hippler spoke to us about the devastating AIDS epidemic, the stigma associated with the illness and the challenges of treating HIV/AIDS in small children. He explained to us that South Africa has such a severe AIDS epidemic that they are literally running out of enough space to bury the bodies. The government allows 14 year olds to be head of the family because orphans are so common. He explained to us that desperation that many HIV/AIDS positive individuals feel due to the stigma and homophobia surrounding the illness. There are currently 30 countries that deny HIV/AIDS positive individuals entrance for any reason. Until two years ago, the United States was one of these countries. I found Fr. Hippler’s speech and approach to be very inspirational and progressive and I agreed with him throughout his presentation. Originally, it was planned for us to enter the children’s ward and interact with them but that decision was changed upon arrival. Fr. Hippler explained that several of the children were in a particularly devastated and vulnerable stage of their illness and that out of respect he did not want to overwhelm them. He also knew that the ship had an upper respiratory infection going around and did not want to risk the children’s poor immune systems to infection. While I would very much have liked to meet the kids, I knew that this was the best and most dignified decision for the children and I was relived it had been made. Back at the ship, I arrived in the Union two hours early for a front row seat to hear Archbishop Desmond Tutu speak. Archbishop Tutu is a recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize for his role in the anti apartheid movement as well as his involvement in the Truth and Reconciliation Committee. Listening to such an influential, inspired and wise man was truly the kind of once in a lifetime opportunity I will never forget. He stressed to us the concept of ubuntu: My humanity is wrapped up in your humanity. I am because you are. The energy coming off of this eighty some year old man was infectious. Sitting there, listening to him speak, I was struck with such an intense feeling of gratitude. He spoke for about forty five minutes before opening the room up for a Q&A. Disappointingly, about two hundred students mobbed him for an autograph instead. I felt bad for this elderly gentleman; he could hardly breathe or move. As he was leaving the room, I managed to politely ask him to sign a T-shirt…which I will never wash again. And with that, my time in South Africa came to an end. I know that I will be back here sooner rather than later. It is a country that is desperately trying to pick up the pieces from a brutally repressive chapter, and yet the people are unbelievably kind. Everyone I encountered in South Africa did not just want to know my name but my story. Ubuntu is a new mantra I will undoubtedly use for the rest of my life. I miss South Africa already.

Lessons Learned in Ghana

Fri, 23 Sep 2011 08:34:06 -0400

Day One-In Transit to Senase Village If you had asked me before I came on Semester At Sea which country I was most excited to visit, the answer was always Ghana. A little more than a year ago, I took a leap of faith and changed my course of study to African Peace, Conflict and Diplomacy despite never having been to Africa. I felt compelled by the human rights issues I had read about to live and work in this continent, promoting women’s rights and education in post conflict zones. Ghana was, for me, a profound first opportunity to experience African culture and society firsthand. I agonized over how to best spend my four days in this West African country. Ghana is the world’s fastest growing economy, and one of Africa’s most stable democracies. I wanted my four days here to be culturally immersive and service oriented. My friend Kaleigh and I tried our best to set up a three day service stay at an orphanage outside Accra but it fell through due to communication issues. The next best opportunity for immersion and service was an independently organized homestay in a village called Senase seven hours outside our port of Tema. The itinerary for this trip involved a two night stay with a local family, half a day working with the children in the village school and a drumming and dance workshop. We were also scheduled to have a question and answer session with the village chief and elders as well as a visit to the Slave Dungeons on the Cape Coast. The thirty of us signed up for the trip organized in the fifth deck square with the six boxes of donations we had collected for the school and set off to meet our tour guide outside the port gate in the city of Tema. The best way to describe Tema is this: Tema is to Newark as Accra (the capital of Ghana and 45 kilometers away from Tema) is to New York City. After exiting the shuttle from the ship to the port gate, we were immediately inundated by street merchants from all sides. Many of these young men were selling paintings or woven bracelets customized with your name on them. I was one of the few who managed to avoid buying anything. We waited for about an hour for our tour guide and bus to arrive at a gas station. At one point, I was left alone guarding all six boxes of school supplies and one of the merchants approached me. He motioned toward some markers and a pair of pants in one of the boxes and asked me what I would be willing to trade for them. He offered his paintings and his bracelets. I looked around in panic to find that no one from my group was witnessing this. Feeling more and more guilty by the minute, I explained to him that the supplies weren’t mine to give and that my friends might be upset if I let some of them go. I explained to him that we were taking them to a school. The man looked me in the eye seemingly very confused. “Please trade me so that I can take these to my kid brother. He’s never been to school. I can’t afford to send him. Please.” Looking back, I wish I had had the strength and courage just to give him a couple boxes of crayons and some clothes. I was afraid that my fellow students would be upset, or that it would start a demand riot among the other merchants. I know that I will be face with situations like this in future countries, and I’m still ruminating on how best to handle them. Finally, the bus came and we all boarded ready to settle in for the seven hour drive. We were informed, however, that we had to make a stop in Accra in order to take money out of the ATM. Accra is Ghana’s most modern city, but most Americans would never view this city as modern. You really have to watch where you are stepping because Ghana’s sewage system is composed of open gutters about three to four feet deep that run uncovered along every street. The smell of urine is at times rather overwhelming. If Tema’s merchants were pushy, Accra’s were downright aggressive. We got our money and headed out on our journey, already two hours behind our schedule. Sometime at the beginning of our drive, it was announced that we would no longer be visiting the Slave Castles. Unfortunately for me, this began a cycle of disappointment that would become a theme during my time in Ghana. At this point I should inform you that prior to Ghana I began experiencing sharp pains in my back where my fracture is. I must tell you that the roads in Ghana are unbelievably bumpy, especially because they are made from dirt and it was the rainy season. Take the bumpiest road you’ve ever been on and multiply it by 20. Ghanaian speed bumps are comprised of five almost triangular bumps placed in rapid succession. Its enough to feel like your teeth are going to shake out of your skull. We drove for about four hours and then…the bus broke down. The alternator completely blew up. In the middle of Africa. The common motto for Africa is T.I.A.: This is Africa. Essentially, this means that nothing ever goes as planned. We all unloaded from the bus and into a barrage of about 60 children. And they were excited. I was excited, too. This is the Africa I was excited for: working with children, engaging in conversations with them and their parents. We played with them for a long time; its incredible how simple it was to entertain them. Some of the girls had books of stickers and the kids just went wild over having a sticker put on their hand or their shirt. They treated the tiny piece of paper as if it were a precious gift. They all went wild chasing and popping the bubbles some of us blew for them. Most of all, they absolutely loved having their picture taken and seeing their image on the screen on our cameras. Every single on of them wanted a portrait. After playing with them for about two hours, the skies literally opened up and it poured rain unlike anything I had ever seen. It was truly a magical moment to be in the middle of an African village, playing with children in the rain. Soaked, we sought refuge in the bus only to find out that there was no progress in the repairs. Our tour guide, Fred, took us in the pitch black of the night to a dive bar so that we could get some dinner and drinks while we waited for the bus to be repaired. I was excited to hang out in a bar with the locals, but when we got there it was only us. We were informed that there was no food. A lot of my fellow students got super wasted. Soon we found out that the bus wouldn’t be fixed until someone with a new alternator came from Accra, which was four hours behind us. My optimism for the spontaneity of the situation began to fade when it became apparent that we would be spending the night on the bus. I tried everything I could think of to get comfortable, but the pain in my back was excruciating. Around two or three AM, the engine stuttered to life and we were again on our way to Senase on the bumpy dirt roads of Ghana. Day Two - Senase Village The bus drove for about four more hours before we finally reached Senase. Despite the intense pain in my back from the longevity and bumpiness of the drive, I was still excited for the experience we would have in the next two days. Everyone unloaded from the bus with their bags, stretched, and headed toward Tour Guide Fred’s house for breakfast. In Ghana, families are always extended instead of nuclear. We met everyone in his family: aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, nieces, nephews. It was one of the most hospitable groups of people I have ever met, and boy did they feed us well. The first thing I’ll say about Ghanaian food is that I really have no idea what I ate. Nonetheless, it was all quite excellent. For breakfast that day it was steamed rice and a fish/vegetable combination that everyone but me thought was unbearably spicy. It was not the most appetizing to look at, but it tasted great. Then began an hour of waiting around and doing nothing that would soon become a pattern for my time in Ghana. We waited, and waited. I was eager to get to the schools to do some service and learn about the educational system in Ghana. We were eventually told that we could go to the schools after dropping our bags off with our host families and touring our new homes. My group was assigned to a random young man who knew the layout of the village, or so we thought. I’m not entirely sure if we got lost or if he just led us on a wild goose chase, but the trek took almost two hours. We walked past Senase’s waste management system: a thirty foot pile of trash that was being grazed on by about forty cows. It was sobering to think about the health issues this could cause and how much Senase would benefit from a trash collecting system like we have in the US. After walking around for what felt like forever, myself and four other girls were told to put our bags in a small brick house on the edge of town. Inside the room were two very thin double beds, a bench, a portrait of Jesus and one of Mickey Mouse…talk about globalization! None of us were introduced to a host family, and we finally set off back into the main part of Senase to participate in the donation and play session with the school kids. We arrived at the school only to find that we had missed everything. The donations had been received, played with, and put away. I got to interact with the children for about two minutes before we were told it was time to leave and go to the market. I really can’t express the gamut of emotions I felt at this point. My entire reason for coming to Senase had been to spend time with these kids, to interact with and learn from them. I had endured almost 24 hours on a bus and incredible back pain to do this and it resulted in a grand two minutes of time at the school. To say I was upset would be an understatement. It was somewhat comforting to know that I was not the only one, though, as I spoke to several girls who were rather displeased we had been rushed through the main event. Nevertheless, we had to move on to the market or risk getting left behind. The journey to the market and our time in the market was another wild goose chase that took us through all the back parts of the village. It was actually pretty interesting to be able to walk in and out observing the daily life of Senase. At one point, I found myself holding hands and talking to a fifteen year old girl named Patience. I asked her if she enjoyed school, and she responded that her favorite subject was science. Perhaps my next question was naïve, given my knowledge about the role of young women in the home in many African societies, but I asked her what she enjoyed doing in her free time. She looked at me as if I was speaking another language entirely. Do you like to paint, sing or dance, I asked her? “Ah yes,” she said, “we do culture when we are not working. Culture is the more important of all.” It’s incredible the things you can learn just from asking a few questions. I was touched when I began to limp due to the pain in my back and Patience helped me along just like an old friend would have. During our walk through the market, we stumbled through hoards of goats, a funeral, and a dance party. Ghana is so very, very vibrant and alive. Recently, a study was done gauging the optimism of countries concerning their collective future. Ghana ranked as the most optimistic country in the world. After the market, we all headed back to Fred’s house for a home cooked lunch of fried beans and plantains. The use of my left leg was by this point totally gone….no movement and no control. We waited for another hour and finally Fred came back from a remote village that he took about four students to in order to work with the children there. I was again disappointed that I was not offered the opportunity to experience the village school. The next activity on the agenda was a drumming and dance workshop given by the locals. Due to the state of my leg and back, I was unable to participate and had to sit out and watch. At one point during the lesson, a Ghanaian woman came up to me and asked why I wasn’t participating. “This is our culture,” she said, “don’t you like our dances?” I tried to explain to her that my leg was hurt and that I wished I could participate more than anything. The lesson lasted about three hours and then everyone split up to go back to their houses for a snack with their families and a nap. Again, there was no family for us to meet so we just enjoyed a little nap before dinner. At Fred’s house, we had another delicious meal and I got the opportunity to talk to Senase’s Public Health Representative. He gave me some sobering information: Senase sees 200 cases of malaria every month. For a “village” of 13,000 there is no health clinic. The municipality that Senase is in, population 140,000, has only one health clinic. No hospital. If someone needs a hospital, they have to walk the 60 kilometers it takes to get there. Ambulances are unheard of. That night, we went into town and Fred took us to a bar to meet with locals but there were none there so it turned into a party with just the 30 of us American students. After about an hour of that, we all returned to our host homes and went to bed after an extremely long day. Day Three - In Transit Back to Accra The third morning in Ghana, I awoke to the sound of roosters and children playing outside. We all had to meet up for breakfast before meeting with the chief and elders and performing the dance we’d learned. I was still hopeful that I would be able to meet, speak and interact with our host family but it didn’t happen that morning either. This was the second great disappointment during my time in Ghana, as I had been so excited to make personal connections with Ghanaians. Breakfast was a porridge that tasted incredibly like peanut butter. Afterwards, everyone piled on the bus and went to the chief’s house. While we were listening to the chief speak, a little boy came up to me, curled into my lap and fell fast asleep. He was so precious and peaceful there. During his address to us, the Chief let us know that we were welcome to return to Senase for service work anytime. Most interestingly, he asked us all for suggestions regarding how to make Senase cleaner and healthier. He implored us to come and teach in their schools and return if any of us ever became doctors. Ghanaians commonly remark about how much they want their country to be like America. In most of the countries we’ll go to on this trip many of us will encounter an anti-American attitude. But not in Ghana; here we were in a desperately poverty stricken village listening to their leader beg us young Americans for any advice we could give to help them. It was very sobering. When the chief was done speaking, I woke up the little boy on my lap and walked with him hand in hand to the square where my fellow students would be performing their dance. He got an odd joy out of spitting on his hand before giving me a high five, but he was so adorable and clearly an orphan that I just let him amuse himself and thoroughly washed my hands later. I wish I could have known his name, he must have been about three, but he didn’t speak any English. After we all got into the costumes the village women made for us, it was performance time. I was the designated videographer, and I stood with my new little buddy and filmed the performance. Most of the locals thought it was hilarious, but there was a very welcoming and positive vibe in the air. To mark the end of our stay in Senase, we presented the Chief with our donation of a water pump. The people were very surprised and gracious, and as we loaded onto the bus we all felt like we had made a difference in Senase’s future with our donation. I was hyper aware of the trip that lay ahead, though. I knew we had at least another ten hours on the bus before getting back to the ship. As a consolation for the bus breaking down the first day, Fred had us stop for lunch in Kumasi. Kumasi is the cultural capital of Ghana, and the streets were lined with artisans selling their crafts. We had an excellent buffet lunch at a local restaurant and then got to shop around for handmade crafts. I picked up a glass bead bracelet and African mask and then it was back on the bus. We drove for about 33 kilometers before the unthinkable happened…the bus broke down again. We waited about an hour by the side of the road this time before another bus came, picked us up, and we were on our way again. Perhaps seven or eight more long hours on the excruciatingly bumpy roads and we were finally back at the MV Explorer. All of us headed for the showers to cleanse ourselves from the sunscreen, DEET and sweat of the last three days. I slept quite well in my bed that night. Day Four - Tema General Hospital My last day in Ghana was spent on an FDP, which is a field trip led by one of my professors required for a course. This course, Women’s Reproductive Health, is my favorite onboard. Our group piled into another bus and headed to the Tema General Hospital. Upon arriving, we were given an extremely informative lecture by the head OBGYN. She explained that this hospital has only 337 beds for a population of over 1 million. They have two OBGYNs for 8,000 births a year. One in five women die of hemorrhage during childbirth. After the lecture, she led us through the hospital. We were able to see the room where women were waiting for C-sections, the children’s hospital, post operation room, NICU, etc. We saw many women who were in labor or suffering complications. At one point we even saw a woman in surgery. While I learned a lot on this FDP and was grateful for the opportunity to observe human and women’s rights issues firsthand, I felt overwhelmingly embarrassed by the conduct of many of my fellow students. Throughout the entire tour, girls were taking pictures. Pictures of women in surgery, in labor, in pain. Pictures of newborn babies with health complications, children with malaria. I felt as if they were treating the patients like zoo animals. One of the nurses told my friend that we were making them feel very uncomfortable. Truly, I was shocked that my fellow students could be so disrespectful. I hung at the back of the group and tried my best to be as respectful as I could. When the tour was over, I made sure to tell my professor how I felt about the photography and she agreed. Upon returning to the ship, I met up with Kaleigh and we went to find snacks…unsuccessfully. We spent our last Ghanaian Cedis buying souvenirs and bid adieu to Ghana. My time in Ghana was not what I had hoped for, but I was still able to gain moments of light and learning from it. I didn’t get to spend time in a school or with a Ghanaian family but I did make connections with Patience and the little boy. All in all, Ghana is a beautiful country that I can see myself returning to in the future. The main lessons for Ghana are as follows: 1. Magic never happens travelling with 30 other people. 2. TIA-This is Africa! When someone tells you seven hours, add two…and be prepared to add six more. 3. Life is what you make it; be flexible. 4. When you have four days in a country, don’t spend the majority of it on a bus no matter what the destination. Next up: CAPETOWN!!!

Pencils of Promise

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 20:30:08 -0400

In the week at sea between Morocco and Ghana, our shipboard community had the unique opportunity to be joined by an inspirational man named Adam Braun. An alumni of Semester at Sea in 2005, Adam Braun is the founder of the NGO Pencils of Promise. At age 27, he oversees an NGO that is the one of, if not the, fastest growing and most successful of our generation. Much of this success can be contributed to the fact that PoP is a non profit that is operated by using a for profit model. During his Semester at Sea experience, he asked a young boy in India what the one thing he wanted most the world was. The answer: a pencil. Pencils of Promise is currently building schools for communities without educational opportunities in Laos, Guatemala and Nicaragua. During his week aboard the ship, Adam gave several lectures and workshops for those of us interested in service work. The night before we disembarked to Ghana, he unveiled an incredible opportunity to all of us. As Semester at Sea participants, he believes that we are best suited to work for his organization. He will be offering any interested SAS students 10 week internships in NYC starting in the Spring. In order to gain one of these internships, a student has to work on their college campus as a campus representative of PoP for a year. Upon completing the campus work and internship, if we are still dedicated, we will have the opportunity to visit one of these schools and then tour the country with PoP giving speeches and fueling the movement. Some of you may or may not know that I believe widespread secular education in the developing world, particularly post conflict regions, is the key to stability and less violence. I believe strongly in the power of education particularly for young girls. Much research suggests that girls who receive an education are far less likely to tolerate abuse, marry young and are far more likely to defend themselves and educate their own children. In many ways, I came on SAS in order to make connections and explore ways in which I can promote education globally as a profession. There is no doubt in my mind that I will be pursuing this opportunity, but I can’t do it without your support. In order to gain the internship, I’ll have to meet several goals at my home campus. These goals are not yet set in stone, but we discussed such ideas as: $10,000 raised in one year (this is enough to build a classroom), two public events (parties, auctions, etc.) and give speaking engagements. Please take some time to look up PoP on the internet and let me know if you would be interested in helping me along in this new goal when I return home. Working for PoP would truly be my dream job! I hope that this organization will inspire you as much as it did me. I would like to end this blog with some of the advice Adam Braun gave us aspiring activists: “Live not in dreams but in contemplation of a reality that is perhaps the future.” “The most powerful element of youth is that we’re too young to know what is impossible.” “Speak the language of the person you want to become.” “You’re ideas don’t just matter, they HAVE matter.” I’ll be writing all about my four days in Ghana soon!

Here's Looking At You, Morocco

Wed, 07 Sep 2011 08:46:03 -0400

Pulling into the Port of Casablanca at sunset was truly breathtaking. Having dedicated much of my academic and personal life to studying Africa for the past years, to see the shore approaching was incredibly emotional and profound. It took a couple of hours for customs to clear the ship, and then I took off on a SAS sponsored city orientation of Casablanca. Our first stop was the fruit and vegetable market, which was not particularly lively as it was still quite early in the morning. It was incredibly colorful to see the fruit and flower stands full of all varieties of things I had never even seen before. They have HUGE watermelons here in Morocco, I wish I could have bought and eaten one. One of the first things that we noticed and would become a theme of Morocco were the cats. Dozens of stray, skinny cats everywhere. During the pre-port lectures, we were warned strongly not to touch them as they carry fleas and diseases….boy was it hard to resist. I felt a small pang of homesickness for my own kittens. In the markets, our tour guide Nejat explained the importance of mint tea to Moroccan (more specifically Berber) culture. She told us that when a Berber woman in her tribe receives a marriage proposal, she serves the man tea. If the tea has lots of sugar in it, she accepts. If the tea has a small amount, she needs time to consider the offer. Should the tea be served with no sugar, it is a refusal. Once we had seen what there was to see in the market, we headed to the Hassan II Mosque. This is the third largest mosque in the world, holding 25,000 people inside and another 80,000 in the outside courtyard. It cost 8 billion USD to build and is still under construction. The roof is fully retractable and the walls and floors utilize Frank Lloyd Wright’s anti-earthquake joint techniques. The architecture and craftsmanship inside are absolutely stunning. While inside the mosque, the women had to wear head scarves. This was a very interesting cultural experience. Finished with the mosque, the tour drove us around other Casablanca sites before taking us back to the ship. I hurried to grab my bags before departing with a group of about twenty other SASers on an independent trip to Marrakech. We negotiated a cab fare, paying particular attention to the need to have a man in every cab with the girls. We got there with no bumps, boarded the train and were on our way. The train ride was particularly enjoyable because we were able to see a lot of Morocco out the window, and it reminded me in many ways of New Mexico. We got to Marrakech after dark, and then the rollercoaster began. A group of twenty Americans, mostly women, leaving the train station and stopping to find our way attracted a lot of attention. We were bombarded. “Taxi! Taxi! Hotel! Tour! Come to my shop! Almost free!” They came at us from all sides. Eventually we split into taxis to find the hostel. They dropped us off as close as they could get because the hostel was down a network of small alleyways that are common in Morocco. We were bombarded again. About five men insisted on being our guides to find the hostel, and no amount of women telling them “no thank you” would deter them. When we got to the hostel, they demanded that we pay them 50 dirham each. They barred us from the door and threatened a fight. Needless to say, we were so stressed and exhausted we would do anything to get out of the dark and into a soft bed. Many of the people we travelled with were absolutely angry and panicked from what we had just been through, however in all honesty we could never have found the place without them. Once paid, we went inside and were stunned by how gorgeous our hostel was. There were mosaics everywhere, a tiled pool, beautiful carved wooden ornaments and beds. We settled in and then went to the rooftop terrace to experience a breathtaking view of Marrakech. We ordered some traditional couscous (delicious) and Moroccan wine and called it a night. DAY 2-Marrakech! The hostel offered free breakfast so we woke up early enough to take advantage of that and were glad we did. We watched as the women working the restaurant squeezed our orange juice right into the pitcher. After eating, we settled our payment with the hostel and set off on our Moroccan adventures. We navigated through the souks (markets) and found ourselves in the Jemaa al Fna, a UNESCO world heritage site that is a public square the size of a football field. We shopped most of the morning (I bought mostly clothes that would be acceptable and light to wear in conservation countries). All of the shop owners surrounded us, guaranteeing the lowest prices. They would throw out names of celebrities they thought we looked like: I got Shakira and a guy with us got Denzel Washington. Almost everyone wanted to talk to us about Obama; he is quite popular here. When the call to prayer sounded around 2 pm, it was a truly incredible and cultural moment that brought us both awe and solemnity for where we were. At the hottest point of the day, we returned to the hostel to use their free WIFI and go for a swim. It was very relaxing and refreshing. Rejuvenated, we once again headed to the Jemaa al Fna in search for dinner. At night, this square transforms into a huge outdoor restaurant, with about a hundred open air food stalls springing up. The smell is incredible, and you can find virtually any kind of food there (monkey brain, anyone?) There are snake charmers - one girl got a cobra put around her shoulders - monkeys, street games and musicians everywhere. The vibe is the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced. We got dinner in a restaurant over looking all the activity. Moroccan food is absolutely incredible. We became quite partial to tagine, which is a slow roasted stew made in a heavy clay dish that is covered with a clay cone resembling a teepee. Usually it is vegetarian or lamb. My favorite dish was pastilla, a Moroccan flaky pastry filled with chicken or pigeon and an array of spices, topped with powdered sugar and cinnamon. After dinner, we explored the square a little more, taking in the excitement and chaos with the many hundreds of people jammed in there. It was truly exhilerating. Upon returning to the hostel we enjoyed more Moroccan wine and stayed up late meeting new friends from Australia and Germany. DAY THREE-Marrakech, return to Casablanca The next morning, we enjoyed more fresh orange juice before setting out to explore Marrakech a little more before returning to the ship. With much difficulty negotiating prices, we caught a cab to the Jardins Majorelle. These are incredibly tranquil gardens that were bought and renovated by fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent before his death. It was absolutely beautiful and a welcome reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the souks. We took our time to explore, caught a cab back to the Jemaa al Fna and had lunch. For lunch, Eva, Tessy, Kaleigh and I split another pastilla and some beef kebabs, which we incredible. A touch more shopping and we were headed back to the train station to meet the ship in Casablanca. We sat in a compartment with a Moroccan mother and daughter. Houda was fourteen years old and loved American music, which we listened to and shared with her. The train ride was a blast; talking to them about American and Moroccan culture, jamming out to Enrique Iglesias (Houda’s favorite) and practicing our French and Arabic. We learned so much in that four hour train ride, and I will always cherish that time as incredibly meaningful. We were all heartbroken to refuse their invitation to stay with them in their home in Rabat since we were leaving Morocco the next day. Houda was so very modern; dressed in short tube top dress with her hair uncovered, speaking openly about her boyfriend and the sexiness of Enrique (haha). Her mother wore the hijab, or veil, but seemed very comfortable and even proud of her daughter’s modern attitude. She told us that she would wear dresses like her daughter if her husband would not laugh! We arrived in Casablanca after dark and had a lot of trouble finding a taxi driver who would take four women in his car without a male. For perspective, the ride to the station from Casablanca with a male student cost us 25 dirham for the whole car. To get from the station to Casablanca with only women cost us 25 dirham per PERSON. It was uncomfortable to feel taken advantage of simply because we were woman, but expected nonetheless. We made it back to the ship safely before leaving to find WIFI at a hotel near the port. DAY 4 - Casablanca Our last day in Morocco we had three goals: post office, buy snacks, and spend the rest of our dirham. Nothing eventful happened and we accomplished all three. We are now sailing away from Morocco en route to Ghana and it is BUMPY. I’m getting rather ill in fact. Overall, Morocco was a great time full of both ups and downs. If I could choose two words to describe it they would be “delicious” and “vibrant.” As they say in Arabic here, A salam o aleikum! (Peace be with you!)

All Aboard!

Sat, 27 Aug 2011 23:05:01 -0400

I am onboard the MV Explorer. There is a beautiful view of water and very far off mountains out of my window. We are moving much faster than I thought we would and the vibrations of the engine are quite noticeable, especially when you’re trying to get a good nights sleep. But I digress, I’ll start from the beginning! Two days ago, on Thursday, I boarded the MV early because I am a work study student. We were able to check into our rooms and unpack. Upon entering my own room, I seriously thought that there was a mistake: I had the most beautiful room with a huge picture window looking right out onto the Montreal skyline. After double checking that I was still an economy student and wouldn’t be charged extra, I settled into my room to wait for my roommate. I am in room 4161 on the fouth deck starboard aft (right back). She arrived a little later and we got to know eachother. I’m trying to be optimistic but I don’t think we could be more opposite. Her name is Hana, and she is a model. And you can tell. She is a very interesting and eccentric person, a Tunisian/US citizen who is half Tunisian half Mexican. Right off the bat she informed me that she does her hair everyday for two hours and her makeup for one. Goodbye, bathroom! Sarah, stay positive. That evening, we went to our work study meeting and I met my supervisors. I’ll be working in the field office which is pretty much the travel information desk. All of my supervisors are young people who have lived and worked abroad, two of them as travel writers and one as a teacher. They are really amazing individuals and I’m excited to get to know them better. Meeting over, Hana and I unpacked and settled into our room. My side is certainly the cleaner side. I spent one last night with mom and Nate in Montreal gorging myself on quiche and crepes and had a Skype date with Brian. Seven AM the next morning found me on the ship and ready to assist with the registration process for all of the other students. It was a long, LONG process but it was helpful because I got to meet a lot of people. Once everyone was registered, there was free time to meet and mingle and I got to finally meet some of the people I’ve been talking on facebook with. The excitement onboard just permeates the air and it is really difficult not to be as excited as everyone else (which I am!) We had a lifeboat drill soon after and then it was time to throw off the bowlines and embark towards Morocco! This was an experience and moment that I will never forget for the rest of my life. There were hundreds of parents and family members waving us off at the dock as we left and everyone was cheering and (some) were crying tears of inspiration and joy. During this time I met two girls from New Mexico!!! I was so excited I couldn’t contain myself, and we agreed to split the one can of Hatch green chile that I brought about halfway through the voyage. Moving along the river out of Montreal, the entire shipboard community met for the first orientation meeting. We had an inspirational talk from the Dean, who urged us to consider the philosophy of ubuntu. This essentially says that I am a human and who I am because you are a human and who you are. It urges us to consider how what we do effects others. The fact that I am a person is derived directly from the people around me. I loved it. The dean then informed us of certain facts: USD has 60 students onboard, there are 850 people onboard total and the major with the most students is Business administration. I was dying to go to bed after the meeting and trudged back to my room. Lo and behold, about ten people had managed to squeeze into our tiny room and were partying like there was no tomorrow. My roommate and her friends had agreed to drink energy drinks and stay up all night. Lovely. Trying to be a team player, I hung out for a while and played Apples to Apples with them before going to check out the deck. It was deserted so I proceeded to my new friend Tessy’s cabin. After talking for a while I went back to my room and was relieved to find that they had relocated. Glorious sleep. Today we have orientation and meetings all day long. I tried my hardest to stay awake while we met in the Union (the largest room on the ship) but the lights in there were so dim and I dozed off. Turns out I didn’t miss much that I didn’t already know, so it was fine except perhaps the embarassment of falling asleep on the first day. But I guarantee you I was not alone. Sleeping on the ship is difficult. The beds are quite rock hard, it is cold and loud, but the view is to die for. That’s all I have for now!

Made it to Montreal`

Thu, 25 Aug 2011 02:56:02 -0400

I am in Montreal, just blocks away from where I will board the MV Explorer tomorrow. It’s only been a few days since leaving Albuquerque, but it feels like much longer. I left NM at 6:00 am yesterday, catching a flight on Southwest for Boston. Mom, Nathan and I rented a car at the airport and then went to check out the USS Constitution. This is the oldest warship used by the US military, and it was very cool to check out the cannons and the sleeping quarters since I’ll be on a ship very soon myself. After seeing the ship, we headed to our hotel…which was sketchy to say the best. But hey, we’re trying to stay on a budget! After a quick nap, we went back into downtown Boston to score some seafood. Mom and I had fish and chips, which were delicious, but we both envied Nathan’s choice: grilled swordfish. I’d never eaten swordfish before but it was DELICIOUS!!! I found myself wishing I’d ordered the swordfish myself. We walked around a little more after dinner and then went to bed to prepare for our early morning drive into Canada and Montreal. This morning, we were all up at 7 am and on the road. I’ve never been in this part of the country before, and I was entranced by all the green, dense trees, waterfalls and wide rivers. Absolutely beautiful. We drove through New Hampshire and Vermont. I must admit that I was pretty amazed at how casual and easy it was to cross the border into Canada! Driving into Canada, we passed miles and miles of corn fields. We knew we were close to Montreal when traffic stopped. For almost an hour and a half we were stuck in this huge traffic jam. Finally, we got into Montreal. I was excited to see all of the French signs and the Old Montreal district is absolutely beautiful. We tried to catch a glimpse of the MV by the water, but it is either not here yet or hidden behind a huge building. Tomorrow I board the ship for work study orientation. I am nervous to say the very least. Meeting new people has always been difficult for me and I hope that everything goes smoothly. On Friday, we leave for Morocco!

This is Really Happening!!!

Sun, 07 Aug 2011 00:46:26 -0400

This past week has been absolutely crazy, busy and stressful. On the plus side, all of the business and stress paid off because I got A LOT done. Semester at Sea (hereby referred to as SAS) requires that all students sign up for any field trips or FDPs that they were interested in through Mauritius. FDPs, or Faculty Directed Practica, are the educational visits/trips that we are required to participate in twice per class. On top of that stress, we were also required to register and pay for any overnight trips (Great Wall, Safaris, Taj Mahal, Cambodia, etc.) that we might be interested in for any and all countries. This is where I was hit with the traveller’s dilemma, consisting of two main questions: first, travel independently and cheaply or touristy and expensively (trips through SAS)? Second, what is the proper balance between sight seeing and service learning when you only have a maximum of six days in a country you may never return to? I agonized over these questions for days, worried about making the wrong decision and missing something amazing during my short time abroad. Service is extremely important to me on this trip because it will be an excellent exposure to foreign aid/human rights work. I also pledged to participate in as much service learning as possible in many of my scholarship essays. To make things even more difficult, I know absolutely no one going on this trip. This made me hesitant to make any concrete plans because I have no idea who I will get along with and want to travel with. It would not be fun to miss out on an amazing experience travelling with friends because you have a prior commitment. But I digress. Any SAS sponsored overnight trips and all trips through Mauritius had to be chosen and paid for ASAP….and so the budgeting began!

Participating in SAS, its pretty important to establish a reasonable budget and stick to it or else the costs will start piling up before your eyes. The trips sponsored by SAS are more expensive than trips offered by vendors in country and/or independent travel. This is largely due to the fact that they book five star hotels to assure parents of their child’s safety. I’ve been planning on choosing one overnight trip to “splurge” on and enjoy having everything planned and taken care of in order to fully enjoy the sights. There were basically three of these to choose from: Beijing/Great Wall, the Taj Mahal/Varanasi and Cambodia: Phnom Phen and Angkor Wat. All very appealing, all things I desperately want to experience someday. In the end, I chose Cambodia for several reasons. Cambodia is a country that has been plagued by misfortune throughout history, recently experiencing a genocide under the Pol Pot regime. The majority of Cambodians live on under $1 USD a day. A couple years ago, I read the memoir of a woman named Somaly Mam. Somaly was born in Cambodia and sold into the child prostitution industry at a young age. She now runs an NGO that helps to rescue girls from this very situation and rehabilitate them before sending them back into society. Her story was powerful and inspiring for me as a future human rights worker. Despite these facts, Cambodia is also incredibly beautiful and home to one of the wonders of the world, the temples of Angkor Wat. The trip will cover both human rights issues and tours of the temples, and I really can’t wait!

My one big trip chosen, I moved on to other countries and options. So far, I’ll be visiting the second largest mosque in Casablanca, visiting a women’s hospital in Ghana, the Amy Biehl Foundation and a township orphanage in South Africa and snorkelling in Mauritius. Most exciting for me, I will be participating in a homestay during my time in India learning about an organization called RIDE. This organization helps women support themselves and send their children to school through a micro-loan program. It also operates as a support shelter for children affected by or currently working in hard labor situations. Recently, micro loan programs have been drastically increasing the quality of life for women all over the world. Further, these programs also help the women afford school for their children. I hope to work educating children in developing countries and so this opportunity is both rare and perfectly in line with my interests.

After I got through the stress of choosing and paying for trips, other important priorities started falling in line fast. I booked my hostels for Morocco: 2 nights in Marrakech, 1 in Essaouira. Morocco is the only country I have completely planned (its first!) and I am so eager to experience the cultures and beauty there. I also ordered my international phone after hours and hours of scanning country rates per minute and from the ship. The phone is still pretty expensive to use, so it will mostly be for check ups and emergencies. Around this time it started to hit me: THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING. SO. INCREDIBLE. Today only reaffirmed and strengthened this awe. It was tax weekend. I had a lot of stuff to buy to prepare for this trip. My mom and I made a plan and bravely went to Target. It took almost four hours. At one point I thought someone had stolen my purse and panic ensued (I had put it down, left it and it was found by an employee. There are good people in the world). During my time abroad, I’ll experience every season. I’ll also need to take a lot of supplements and pills (malaria!) to keep healthy, wash my clothes in the sink and plan for food poisoning. If I visit an orphanage, shelter or do a homestay I need to bring donations. We left Target with a wide array of items: pepto bismol, heavy duty bug spray, bouncy balls, crayons, light clothing, external hard drive, magnets (the ship walls are metal), proper shoes, EmergenC, money concealer clip, etc, etc, etc. I haven’t shopped like that…ever. It was so intense I had to come home and take a nap. Spending money makes me nervous; which I think may turn out to be a positive trait when navigating endless markets around the world.

I’m so relieved to have gotten so many things on my to do list out of the way, but if feels like the tip of the iceberg. I’ll start packing on Monday, almost two weeks before I leave. They advise to get out everything you think you need and then put half back. Oh yes, it will be a process. I also need to make a decision about China soon regarding paid tours or independent travel. Ideally, I want to see both Guilin and Beijing/Great Wall but China is HUGE. Tours are expensive but convenient while independent travel offers more chance for leisure, immersion and budgets. If I chose to travel China independently, the time is rapidly approaching when I would need to book my airfare. And now for packing. The journey continues!

Visas and Vaccinations!

Tue, 26 Jul 2011 17:34:36 -0400

Hoorah! In early June, I sent three applications along with my passports for entry visas for China, India and Ghana. As time passed, I started getting a little bit nervous that my passport and visas wouldn’t get back to Albuquerque in time. But lo and behold! Today my passport was returned with three shiny new visas in the back! Seeing these new colorful and multilingual documents in my passport really got me excited! The closer I get to leaving, the more astounded and grateful I feel for this once in a lifetime opportunity. Just one month from today, I will be on the MV Explorer as it sails from Montreal and towards Morocco. So far, Morocco is the only country I have completely planned. Having studied Islamic culture and practices for a while now, I truly can’t contain my excitement at being in my first Muslim country. Morocco is an excellent fit because I will also be able to practice my French!

Preparing myself health wise for Semester at Sea has been exhausting. To date, I have received my shots for yellow fever, polio, Hep A, Japanese Encephalitis, meningitis and TDap (tetanus). I did the latter two today…OUCH. Having all of these vaccinations and immunizations in my body has resulted in a very tired, nauseous and under-the-weather Sarah. To console me, my mom took me out for New Mexican food for lunch at El Patio. Sitting outside eating my green chile chicken enchiladas, I began to think about how much I would miss NM. Mom gave me a task to find the culinary equivalent of salsa and sopapillas in each country…a worthy and interesting challenge!

Dressing for this trip is also quite a challenge! It will be extremely hot almost everywhere except China and Japan. However, most of these countries also have very modest standards and expectations for women’s attire. Yesterday I bought two pairs of light linen pants for hot countries and a long skirt for modesty in Morocco, Ghana and India.

Finally, I would like to thank Dr. Copeland and Aunt Laura for your generous donations!

T Minus 30 Days!!!

Fri, 22 Jul 2011 14:47:41 -0400

Hello readers. Well, this is it. After months of writing, hoping, wishing and plenty of tears, Semester at Sea is becoming a reality. On August 26, I will set sail on the MV Explorer on my journey to see and study in 12 different countries. For those of you who are not familiar with the inspiration and challenges leading up to Semester at Sea, I will fill you in.

After majoring in theatre for the first three years of college, I was losing passion and burnt out. Feeling compelled to live a less selfish and more aware lifestyle, I chose to switch my degree to International Studies. I will be focusing my studies on African Peace, Conflict and Diplomacy. Human Rights (especially those of female war survivors) has long been a passion of mine. After taking an English course at UNM that used literary works to focus on genocide and study international responses, I knew that this was my path. Soon after, I read the incredible book “Half the Sky,” and my goals were reaffirmed. I deeply recommend this book to all women.

In the fall of 2010, I became aware that my International Studies degree required a study abroad experience. Being that my region of focus is Africa, I felt discouraged that I would be able to find a study abroad program that would operate in the continent safely with classes that applied to my degree. Visiting a study abroad fair, my suspicions were confirmed. And then I saw a table with a friendly young gentleman labeled “Semester at Sea.” Probably for marine biologists, I thought to myself…then what are they doing in Albuquerque? I couldn’t fight my curiosity, because the image of what a “Semester at Sea” might be was too good to be true. That night, I brought home a brochure on SAS and logged onto their website immediately. I was hooked. Floating cruise ship university? Focus on social issues and human rights? Leading professors from around the world? Archbishop Desmond Tutu? 12 different countries? 3 STOPS IN AFRICA?? I was sold, even before I saw the staggering price tag: almost $30,000!!!! Needless to say, I dismissed it as a possibility almost immediately. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much this opportunity would improve my future career, opening new doors and making new connections globally while experiencing the issues that I study firsthand. By December, I had applied and been accepted. SURREAL. Between December 2010 and May 2011, I worked around the clock to research travel, write outstanding scholarship essays, save money and keep up in school. For a very long time, SAS felt like an unreachable goal only reserved for those very privileged individuals whose parents could contribute to the large cost. By the beginning of June, I still didn’t know if this dream would come true for me. And then, amazingly and unbelievably, I was given enough scholarship money by the Institute of Shipboard Education to cover half of the tuition. Soon after that, other expenses fell into place. Still, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about money. I still have a lot of saving and fundraising to do.

I will be posting on this blog throughout my travels to twelve different countries. Communication from the ship will be extremely limited, so this will be the best place to keep up with my adventures! Please comment with any questions you have about me, Semester at Sea, or anything else!

Peace, Love, Respect.