The Last Days On the MV Explorer

Oh, America. Home of the free, land of the brave. The Fall 2011 Voyage of Semester of Sea, the 107^th journey of the Institute for Shipboard Education’s premier study abroad program, has come to a close in the Sunshine State of Florida. The days between leaving Honduras and now have been filled with literally every single emotion possible; there’s been excitement, anxiety, fear, joy, sadness, resentment, frustration, boredom, lethargy, and, most importantly, overwhelming gratitude. It’s weird being back, and it’s even weirder thinking that the life I came to know and love so well has abruptly come to its end.

The day after Honduras saw the beginning of the packing process. While I came with what seemed like an enormous amount of stuff, I left with even more. My bags were packed with clothes, flags, trinkets, my yoga mat, souvenirs, gifts, basically a whole slew of things I didn’t come to the voyage with. Most importantly, perhaps, were the lessons I tucked away into my bags, stuffed neatly between the postcards and magnets that have been hanging from my wall. I packed away my new found confidence, relationships, and views on this amazing world of ours. It’s hard to classify the whole experience, what it has meant, and how I’m going to let it influence my future. That being said, I can say one thing for sure: this world of ours is so incredibly beautiful that 111 days exploring it hardly gives it justice. My awareness has moved away from local and has gone global, as I’m now more interested in how things affect each other throughout the entire world.

So, what exactly happened besides packing? On that second to last day on the ship, a reentry panel was held for people interested in discussing reverse culture shock and the process of coming down from our experiences abroad and coming back to our lives away from the MV Explorer. While their words were helpful, they reminded me that what lies ahead will not be easy. It made me remember how I felt when I returned from Europe in the spring and how utterly lost I felt at first, how America seemed so different and weird. It took a while to readjust, and the discussion made me realize that readjusting back from Semester at Sea will, very likely, take much longer. Faculty member Wendy Goldberg spoke on the panel about the topsy-turvy feeling we will experience. She drew upon Alice in Wonderland for a number of interesting and rateable metaphors about the nature of dropping into all these new places and then coming back to something we recall with familiarity and fondness. I have to say, after falling through the rabbit hole and seeing all that Wonderland has to offer, pulling myself back out is proving to be an interesting experience.

I ate dinner with Jackie and Kat, my shipboard extended family. At the beginning of the semester, I signed up for an extended family, thinking I would be placed into a large family with two lifelong learners as parents and a bunch of other students as siblings. Instead, I received a mom and a sister. Frankly, after having had dinner many different times throughout the entire semester, I am glad it ended up working out exactly the opposite of how I expected it to. We were able to discuss more personal experiences in the countries and on the ship that wouldn’t have been able to have been shared had my family been upwards of ten people. I’m grateful for having such a loving, tight-knit family on the ship that I knew I could always count on.

That night, the Acting 1 and History of Musical Theatre classes performed their final scenes and student-written musical, respectively. Acting 1’s students explored a number of different self-written monologues, scenes from various plays , and South African opera songs. Admittedly, some were better than others, but overall, they did a great job and kept everyone entertained, despite some technical difficulties regarding the spotty sound system of the Union on the ship. Following that, SAS: The Musical was performed! The History of Musical Theatre class has been working all semester on writing and putting on an original musical. The story was essentially about life on the MV Explorer and the two forbidden relationships between a student and a crew member and the dean and a lifelong learner. Though cheesy, it was hilarious and enjoyable, with many of the jokes only really making sense to those on the ship. That reminded me, though, of how special our community became over the whole voyage. We have so many characters and personalities that it’s no surprise to me that so many jokes sprung out of the people on board. Following the performances, the final Coffeehouse was held. I, of course, spoke, sharing some more of my writing. If the musical reminded me of the personalities and jokes, the Coffeehouse reminded me of the sheer sublime talent of many of the different people I have come to know and love. It’s been a real privilege being in their company and sharing all of our work with one another. It has only solidified my desire to continue writing and creating.

The final day came. The ship was awash in weird emotions; people seemed to be wandering the hallways aimlessly as we enjoyed our last moments on our floating home. Upon finishing packing, my room was empty, further adding to the bizarre feelings of the last day. When everyone was done moving their baggage to the designated location on the ship and collecting their passports and yellow fever vaccination cards, we had some downtime. I ate my final dinner outside on the 6^th Deck, watching the sunset for a final time over the endless ocean. I’ve been lucky enough to see so many amazing sunrises and sunsets throughout this semester. How am I supposed to recreate the sunrise over Cape Town while we approached South Africa or as I slowly moved through the entry portal into Angkor Wat in Cambodia? What about the explosion of red, purple, orange, and blue as the sun dipped into the ocean each night from the back of the ship or over the Arabian Sea in Kerala, India? The beauty I have witnessed is indescribable, humbling, and, quite simply, awesome. There’s still so much left for me to see around the world that this voyage has not quenched a thirst, but rather has only set me on fire with more questions, desire, and hopes for truth, understanding, and exploration. Following dinner, I went to Linda’s 22^nd surprise birthday party, hosted by Jake in one of the classrooms. Many of my good friends were there, so it was a happy celebration of not only her birthday, but the semester as a whole. The night officially ended with convocation, a recognition of the whole four months and those lucky graduating seniors.

Then night unofficially never ended. I stayed awake all night, hopping between all the groups of friends I have become a part of—I never fell into one single clique, which I am thoroughly happy about. I spent time with Lou, Diana, Causey, Natasa, Valleria, Mike, Brad, Ali, Jake, Linda, Nick, Johnny, and plenty more. The last crew I hung out with ended up being Lily, Mary, Cristina, and Lauren; apparently, Abby, Alden, Ricky, Kevin, and I think some others were with them, too, but they disappeared to bed. Mary and I ended up staying fully awake the longest. When the time came for breakfast, we moved upstairs to eat. As we sat in dining room on the 5^th floor, the lights of America started to become visible. Miami and Ft. Lauderdale twinkled in the distance. When we finished eating, we went to the front of the ship and experienced our first moments back in America. I had made a sign then night before that I held up and took pictures with: 29,052.5 nautical miles. Can you believe it?

It started to rain at one point. We migrated inside so we could avoid the moisture. However, when we moved to the back of the ship to see the parents as we made our final movements into the port, the sun began to shine through the clouds. In this moment, I was reminded that even in times of darkness, such as leaving behind the life you love, there is always a light to guide you back through to the other side.

Then it came time to really say goodbye. I raced about the ship, giving my final hugs, saying my final words to people, and shedding some tears in the process. I was one of the earlier groups to disembark, so I didn’t have as much time as others. When it was finally my turn, I grabbed my backpack, slung my Ghanaian drum over my shoulder, and walked out onto the gangway for the last time. As John, Luke, Whit, Ionna, and I slid our cards one final time, we said farewell to the MV Explorer and the lifestyle that is Semester at Sea. I greeted my parents with loving hugs and a statement of how overwhelmingly thankful I am to them for this eye-opening life experience. We drove away, me in the backseat slowly attempting to rationalize the finality of the program. I haven’t gotten there quite yet, as I keep feeling like I’ll be walking back up the gangway to my room tomorrow, but eventually I’ll get there.

How did I celebrate? Lunch with my parents at Chik Fil A and dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. Reverse culture shock, much? The next few days were spent in Naples, Florida, home of nothing but elderly people. I spent almost the entire time catching up on TV shows and sleeping. The frustration of being home hasn’t fully hit me yet as I am not quite home in my own house in my own bed.

Where am I this weekend? Having a unique intellectual adventure at COLORADO COLLEGE. I’ll write something more sentimental later, but know this: Semester at Sea changed my life, and my friends from the program, quite literally, mean the world to me.

Oh, ocean blue, I miss you terribly. You will always be a part of me.

Roatán, or Winter Break Part One

Roatán, Honduras—a small island off the coast of Central America in the Caribbean. Pleasant, right? For what it’s worth, it certainly was relaxing, or as relaxing as a two day port where about a day and a half of it was raining. Not just sprinkling, either. It was stormy, to say the least. Well, weather the wheater (ha) was good or bad, it was still a relaxing final port, free of worry from academic affairs on the ship having now completed finals, projects, programs, and papers.

Our final port has been up in the air since I applied for SAS. A big selling point for this particular semester was the possibility of docking in Havana, Cuba for three days. The itinerary said we would only be going if we received confirmation from the US State Department. Didn’t happen. Thanks, non-students on board (because student visas for Cuba are much easier to obtain than other forms). I was really looking forward to a cigar. The next plan of action, as described to us on the day of the Sea Olympics: Santo Tomas de Castilla, Guatemala. Mayan ruins sounded exciting, but I couldn’t help feeling disappointed that Cuba didn’t work out. Then, during the Pacific Ocean crossing, we awoke one morning to an announcement from the Voice aka Dean Laurie that increasing drug-related violence in eastern Central America, particularly in Guatemala, Belize, Mexic, and, oddly enough, Honduras, were a source of concern for ISE, the State Department, and OSAC, so we were going to have to be rerouted again to Roatán, a tourist destination off the coast, away from all the violence. Run-on sentence? I think. And would you believe it? I saw Mayan ruins and artifacts and smoked a cigar. Okay, I didn’t actually smoke a cigar, though some people did. I was only planning on doing that if we went to Cuba. Okay, background information aside, let’s talk about two days in rainy Roatán.

I awoke to watch the entry into port with Valleria. It was cloudy, so we weren’t able to see much. I went back to bed, only to be interrupted at 7:20 A.M. with an announcement that we could get off the ship 40 minutes earlier than expected. I was signed up for a trip, though, so I didn’t take advatnage. When the time came, I stepped off into the Port of Roatán in Coxen Hole. Ali, Jake, Linda, Nick, Ionna, Rachael, Dina, and a handful of others and I were on an orphanage visit that was combined with an underwater museum snorkeling adventure. Great combo, right? Save the world a little bit and then swim around in the silver-blue Caribbean water while looking at ancient Mayan artifacts and treasures? Let’s do it! The most special part of it to me was that Ali, Ionna, and I were together on the first trip we went on in Morocco and now the last one in Honduras. Great little circle completion, right? Anyway, the kids were fun, but there weren’t that many since most of them were with grandparents for the holidays. We mostly played soccer and blew bubbles and drew on the sidewalk with chalk with them. As far as the snorkeling went, the water was perfect temperature and we got to see quite a bit of coral. The Mesoamerican Reef in the Caribbean is the second largest coral reef in the world, following the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, so underwater was all sorts of red, green, purple, green, yellow, and more. There were a ton of fish, too. We hung out on the beach afterwards and had delicious pizza and some beer. Preparation for America?

When we done snorkeling, the weather turned. It started to rain. A lot. Outdoor activities weren’t really an option anymore. Ali, Ionna, Nick, and I decided to get food. We walked into Coxen Hole and ate conch soup and some kind of delicious tortilla with meat and beans at a local restaurant. It was fantastic. We took a taxi after that to a place called Bananarama in West Bay. There were a ton of SAS folks drinking and having a good time. The rest of the day was spent between there, back at the ship for dinner and a shower, and in West End bar hopping. The roads weren’t in the best condition, so everything was wet and muddy, but nobody seemed to care; it was an excellent last night out with my friends being able to legally drink. Bars, clubs, lounges, and liquor stores, see you in five months!

The second day was raining even harder, so we couldn’t do much once again. Ali, Nick, Sara, and I had lunch at a Mexican place in the port. Speaking of the port, it was similar to Cape Town in that it was commercial, but it was not anywhere near as upscale. When we left, we ventured back into Coxen Hole to walk around in the pouring rain. We each bought a few souvenirs throughout town. As the day came to a close, the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid futbol match began, so we sat and watched the first half hour of it—it was 1-1 when we left.

As our journey is spindling away to its bittersweet end, I wanted my last experience in port to be special. So, I celebrated by jumping into the 7^th Deck pool with Gina and Bailey in the rain. We swam some laps and tread some water as the rain poured down onto our faces. I was reminded of the beautiful things and people I have met on my journey about the world, but I’ll cover that once I’m back in America. For now, I will close my last international blog post by saying that while Honduras may have been wet and slightly chilly, I am glad it was our final port experience. I got to relax, swim in warm water, spend time with some of my favorite people on the ship, and think about what this voyage has meant to me. I may not have been able to go to Cuba or Guatemala, so I’ll just have to return to them later!

America tomorrow. Still need to finish packing. I have more to put in than when I left, but somehow, someway, it will fit.

Pura Vida en Costa Rica

Let me just start off by saying two days in Costa Rica is not nearly enough. With less than 48 hours in the country, every moment was precious. That being said, Costa Rica was probably my most relaxing port. I had quite a bit of down time to just hang out and watch the scenery go by.

The day before Costa Rica, I had my first final: Global Studies. I got an 85. And that was with minimal studying.

My first day started with a zipline adventure through the forest canopy. It was a Semester at Sea trip, so there were a great deal of people, but a lot of my friends were on it, so I was in great company. After taking a short bus ride to Parque Aventura, we suited up and hiked up a small hill to the first station. They demonstrated how to properly zoom down the line and brake. When it came to be my turn, I hit the brakes too soon and had to monkey crawl the final portion of the line. Embarrassing. Thankfully, a few other people ran into the same predicament, saving me from being alone in looking like a chimp. I’ve ziplined before, but this particular adventure was really exciting; we had to zip from station to station and cover a whole lot of ground. One portion of the park was nothing but jumping from box to box, allowing us to keep our harness on and not hike to get to the next station. The longest line in the park took us over a huge river valley—falling would’ve surely been fatal. You got going pretty fast, and to brake you had to grab the actual line, so gloves were required. No gloves? Wave goodbye to your skin! Was that a pun? The trip ended with a journey up a huge hill on the back of a truck. Excellent morning.

That afternoon, I took the free SAS shuttle service from our port in Puerto Caldera to Puntarenas, the nearest city with Shelbi and Liz. When we arrived, we didn’t really do much. Puntarenas wasn’t exactly designed with the tourist in mind, but we weren’t really looking to do very much anyway. Our day was spent walking around, looking at the trinkets in the street-side shops, using free internet, drinking delicious piña coladas, and sitting on the beach.

We spent the evening with a bunch of other SAS kids that we met up with at the bus stop. After enjoying a delicious dinner of ceviche at a local restaurant, we wandered to a locals bar with awesome salsa dancing. We took the place by storm! Though we weren’t really good, our hips got a workout. Later, Savannah, Susie, and I ended up at another club in a different part of the city. It was sort of strange because very, very few people were dancing; everybody was standing up above on the second floor. Many people were alone. It wasn’t the most welcoming environment, but we did meet a few cool local folks. I had delicious street food, too, so it wasn’t bust in the slightest.

Annoying thing: the Costsa Rican currency, the colón, just changed. No, it didn’t change names or exchange rates or anything of that sort. It changed design. The new money is very nice and colorful, I will admit, but I came to the country with somewhere around $40 in the old money that I got from a bank in Canada back in August. It changed in September. Nobody takes the old money. It’s obsolete. It’s basically Monopoly  Money. I figured I would go to the bank on our second morning, a Monday, to exchange the old currency for the new. When I walked into the bank, they said the only way I could exchange the notes would be to go to the Central Bank…in San José, the capital, a solid two hours away. Normally, I’d be okay with that, but with very little time in the country and a less reliable transportation system, I had to accept defeat. I still have the red play money in my wallet.

While eating breakfast at a restaurant in Puntarenas the second morning with Shelbi, Liz, and Johnny, we saw Hayley who invited us to a waterfall tour with her, Kevin, other Kevin, Susie, and some other folks. After finding out we probably wouldn’t make it to the waterfall in time, we almost called it quits on plans for the day. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tricked out tour bus came around the corner while blaring its horn and playing local marimba music. On the spur of the moment, Hayley and I hopped on, paid the fee, and enjoyed an adventure around the entire city by bus! We made two stops on the way: a fish market and a church. Though the history of Puntarenas isn’t that impressive compared to some of the other places I went to this semester, it was a pleasant afternoon ride. Our guide, Jenny, was a beautiful Costa Rican woman. She let us play the marimba at the end! She also gave us a shot of Costa Rican liquor while on the ride. For $15, the trip was well worth the money. The rest of the day was the same as the day before—walking around, drinking more deliciosu piña coladas, and eating some incredibly tasty gallo pinto.

“Pura vida” means “pure life,” the unofficial motto of Costa Rica. Many of the people I encountered in Costa Rica were some of the most laid back people I have met on this voyage. The lifestyle there is slow and steady, a nice change from the go-go-go of many Asian cultures. It really seems like a great way to live.

Yesterday I had my second final: World Theatre and Performance. I think it went well. I also helped host the Ping Pong Championships with Dave Eng. The winner ended up being Michael Williams, my professor. He better give me an A.

Today was a particularly special day on the voyage—we passed through the Panama Canal. Now, I’m no builder or architect, but the Panama Canal is an engineering masterpiece. A series of locks takes ships from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean in a matter of hours. The alternative, traversing Cape Horn, would tack on an additional month and several thousand nautical miles. I wouldn’t have complained. The process of going through the locks was really, really interesting. Along the way, the elevation changed, so the canal would rise and fall along the way as the water filled the lanes. It was busy the whole filled, with many other boats, most of them being cargo. We had a barbecue lunch to celebrate, but it was moved inside because of rainy weather.

As I am typing this, we’re still passing by city lights. Soon, we’ll be in the Atlantic Ocean, exactly where we started. We are back in the Eastern Time Zone, so we have literally gone around the world. Before going home, though, we have to go back to Central Time Zone for our final port—Honduras! Cuba and Guatemala may not have worked out, but Honduras will be a ton of fun, too, I’m sure. The journey isn’t over yet. It doesn’t feel like we’ve done the actual circumnavigation quite yet, but we have. We have changed, but can’t quite explain how. Who knows when we will be able to?

So, for now, I will sit back and enjoy Christmas Carols and a cup of hot chocolate in the Piano Lounge while I procrastinate on writing my final essay for Gender and Society and reading for my final in Writing Back to the Empire, both of which are tomorrow. After that, it’s two days in Honduras, two days at sea, and then Florida. It’s all very surreal.

I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.

Mahalo

Well, aloha. Hawai’i is in America. Who would’ve thought, right? A one day break from foreign countries towards the end of the voyage is a droll reminder of what awaits in less than two weeks at this point. I’ve always wanted to use the word droll. Plus one to the vocabulary. You’re welcome, future BA in English.

Like in Honolulu, we had cell reception, so a lot of people flocked straight to their phones and called and texted their entire contact list. If you sat in the Dining Room, it was loud, but not because people were talking to each other; rather, they were chatting on the phone with their mom, dad, boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever person is patiently waiting for them back in Mainland America. It was interesting to see this side of people that we have avoided the entire voyage.

No visit to America would be complete without an experience in the corporate world, and for many SASers, that came in the form of Wal-Mart. My first stop, along with what seemed like at least half the ship, was the very symbol of corporate American greed and capitalism. The aisles were teeming with eager students looking for bargain basement prices, none of which even compared to what we experienced in many of the countries we had just been to. That giant $6 box of granola bars would’ve bought me an entire meal in Vietnam. I was also reminded of my age. Being that it was Thanksgiving, I wanted to celebrate with a bottle of champagne. Only problem: I’m 20. Instead of confidently walking up to the check out line like I have around the world, I had to ask someone who has already reached the mythical age of 21 to purchase the alcohol for me. It was an all-too-soon reminder that I’ve still got half a year to go to be of age in my own home country but in most other countries, I’m “mature” enough. That’s a discussion for another time, though.

The rest of the day was spent sightseeing around the Big Island with Lily, Christina, Mary, Ricky, and Lauren. We found a driver who took us from Wal-Mart to the lava fields, a small farmers market, a black sand beach, pools of hot springs, and a local pancake house with enormous American-sized portions, another pleasant reminder of Americanism. The whole day was a fantastic and relaxing Thanksgiving, a nice break from the mountains of papers and tests that seem to have piled up on the ship. I made a few calls as well, mostly to my family. That being said, it served to slowly reintroduce us to where we are headed. With only two weeks to go, I’m beginning to get nervous, anxious, and excited. While it may have sounded like I’ve had the time of my life,  and I really truly have, there have been bad parts to this experience. I’ve been homesick. I’ve been seasick. I’ve had cabin fever. I’ve experienced incredible inequality, injustice, poverty, and a whole host of other global maladies and problems. However, I’ve also seen beauty. I’ve fallen in love with traveling. I’ve fallen in love with the world. I’m not one for mixed feelings, but I’m so happy and sad as I write this. Happy to be sad, sad to be happy.

“Mahalo” is Hawaiian for “thank you.” Since we were in Hilo, Hawai’i on Thanksgiving, it’s only appropriate I say thank you. This journey around the world has been a dream come true—111 days of floating along the ocean and exploring new lands does not happen to anybody. Yes, we’ve dreamed and floated, but we’ve lived, experienced, breathed, wished, hoped, prayed, examined and reexamined, and had incredibly enriching moments around every other corner. None of this would’ve been possible without the help of many people in my life. I’m here for a number of reasons beyond just my own hard work and desire to travel the world.

I am grateful beyond measure to the following:

           

• The Institute for Shipboard Education, Semester at Sea, and the University of Virginia for presenting the opportunity to experience an incredible paradigm shift and alter my perspective on many aspects of the world and my own life. The execution of the program proved better than the idea.
• Colorado College for allowing me to be the first CC student in a number of years to participate in the program for credit. Had my petition for credit been denied, I wouldn’t be sitting here today watching the orange sunset over the endless Pacific Ocean.
• Heather Browne in the study abroad office at CC for aiding me through the entire             application and petition processes and cheering me on from day one.
• Re Evitt, Peggy Berg, Jane Hillberry, and Andrew Manley, my department chairs and advisors for providing recommendations, signing forms, approving classes, and helping me find a purpose for doing SAS beyond the obvious desire to travel.
• All my roommates from this past year for dealing with me at some of my most                         insufferable moments and for providing never ending support.
• My dear friends from home, Cheley, CC, and everywhere in between, for the             encouragement, love, e-mails, and more.
• My sister Anna, for being a source of inspiration and advice since she sailed on the Spring 2008 Voyage.
• My mother and father, for giving me the world.

Well, aren’t I just an emotional wasteland? In all seriousness, I’ve had the greatest adventure I probably will ever have, and all of it was made possible with help from other people. Mahalo, y’all!

The adventure doesn’t stop here. Two ports to go and a million and one things left to do on the ship—we’re in the homestretch, folks, and while I’m still alive and in the moment, I can’t wait to be on solid ground in colorful Colorado.

I just wish I could skip finals. The Block Plan never seemed like a better idea until now. Semester system, go crawl in a hole. 

I Think I'm Turning Japanese...on the Pacific Ocean

Double blog post! My Japan blog didn't make it through for some reason, so I've combined that with my Pacific Ocean crossing post. Excuse the length.

I’ve been to the future, and it’s name is Japan. We were told that our final port of call in Asia would be ultra hip, ultra fast, and ultra modern. They weren’t lying. I mean, they have vending machines for hot food, buttons to indicate which kind of room you want to check into in hotels and hostels, and toilets with seat warmers and aromatherapy scents. And this is throughout the entire country, not in just the urban areas.

So, Japan! Yeah! We were the first voyage to go since the earthquake/nuclear/tsunami disaster, so we weren’t entirely sure to expect. Sure enough, we were docked in Kobe and Yokohama, two cities very far from the problems encountered up north. Over the five days there, I split up my time between traveling with groups, exploring on my own (which is entirely possible in Japan since it is an extremely safe country on the whole), and one single SAS trip on the final day. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, especially considering it is our final long port stay. All we have left is one day in Hawaii, two days in Costa Rica, and two days in our new surprise port of Guatemala. Cuba, unfortunately, did not work out, but at least it has been replaced with another exotic location in Latin America. Japan, for me, was all about figuring out how to put everything I have learned and experienced in all the previous countries into practice.

I started out on day one by getting off the ship with Brooke, Dip, Kate, and Alannah and heading to Nara, the former capital of Japan…from the 8^th century. Because of its location off the coast of Asia, Japan was able to maintain relative isolation for most of its history and develop an extremely autonomous society. The capital has changed around many times, mostly in response to changing leaders. Anyway, Nara is an extremely old city; it just celebrated its 1,300^th anniversary a few years ago. The main reason in going there was to see the wild dear roaming about town. Japanese myth points to dear as being holy creatures deserving of respect, so there’s an entire park in Nara called the Nara Dear Park that allows them to roam free. This particular park, though, takes up a very large part of the east (I think) part of town, so dear wander about town at their leisure. It’s not uncommon to see a whole gaggle of them crossing the street in the middle of the afternoon. And we saw that. A whole gaggle of dear crossing the street in the middle of the afternoon. We even got to pet them! They’re so used to seeing humans and being touched by them that they sometimes walk right up to people and bow, indicating their permission for us to play around with them.

Beyond the dear, we toured around in a few temples and museums. Japan has two official religions: Shinto and Buddhism. Shinto is the religion of the living world, while Buddhism is the religion of the afterlife, or at least that’s what we were told. The temples and shrines are abundant throughout the country, and being that Nara was an imperial capital, it certainly was no exception. One of the sites we went to has been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of its beauty and importance to Nara. As we were walking back to the train station to return to Kobe, we stopped at a street vendor to try some food. It was delicious. Every meal I had in Japan was delicious, even the cheap food on the street.

I spent the night in Osaka, a much larger city than both Kobe and Nara. All I really did there was walk around and take in the lights. I did go to a few bars, but drinks, like everything else in Japan, are expensive. There’s a price to pay for extreme economic development and success. When I woke up the next morning, I took the train from Osaka and Kyoto, another imperial capital of Japan that is much larger than neighboring Nara. Unlike my time in Nara, I spent my day in Kyoto on my own, so I got to set my own pace. I’d say this day was on the level of my 1^st day in Vietnam as one of the best days of my whole voyage. I hopped off the train, got situated in the area, and took a cab ride up to the eastern side of the city and visited some temples and shrines. The Japanese love their nature; the park space was abundant and green. I had the most delicious noodle lunch at a local restaurant while sitting with some extremely friendly Japanese school girls. All of the people I encountered were so friendly, almost to a fault. They would go out of their way to help you, even if it meant walking around with you for 20 minutes at a time to find a particular restaurant or site. Throughout the day, I encountered a few SAS students, but being on my own left me to own devices and intuition. The day ended with me coming down from the hills and ancient temples to the more modern part of the city and crossing over a beautiful bridge while noticing the lovely fall colors, a reminder that even though that while on the voyage we may have felt like we were in a constant state of summer heat until China and Japan, the seasons, like ourselves, have continued to change. Profound, aren’t I?

That night certainly turned into an adventure. I returned from Kyoto with a note on my door from Lou. It said that they went into Kobe to buy my bus ticket, but they didn’t have enough money and were in a hurry to make it to Hiroshima, so they couldn’t purchase mine. I had to rush back into the city to buy my ticket from a random unknown station. Once I got it, I had to get back to the ship, pack, and meet up with Lou, Dina, Valleria, Causey, Kyle, and Brooke to start on our adventure on an overnight bus to Tokyo. Problem: Brooke’s ticket was for an earlier bus. Alas. As it were, she had to take that bus without us and wait at the station in Tokyo for us in the morning. We filed onto the bus when it was time and started on our journey. Unfortunately, this bus was not like the bus from Malaysia. No plush. No leather. No reclining all the way back. At least it wasn’t Greyhound quality, though.

Weary and a little smelly, we made it to Tokyo at 7:30 A.M. We met Brooke recharged at a Starbucks, sipping on coffee while listening to Holiday tunes. Christmas still feels far away. When we were ready, we stepped outside and walked around while searching for something to do. Tokyo on a Sunday morning is a little on the quiet side, or at least where we were was, because there weren’t many people outside. We hopped on the subway and took that to the Harajuku district. If you’re a Gwen Stefani fan, you may remember hearing her sing about Harajuku Girls. While they were actually four backup dancers for her, the name was inspired by this weird, WEIRD fashion district in Tokyo. Before we stumbled into it, we explored the Meiji Shrine, a Shinto shrine dedicated to Emperor Meiji and his wife, Empress Shoken. Similar to the shrines I explored in Nara and Kyoto, it was beautifully green and outdoorsy. We were taken around by tour guide sponsored by a non-profit group that teaches Japanese people English for free in exchange for them giving tours. Or something like that. I didn’t listen closely enough. Walking by large barrels of sake and wine, we admired the giant trees all around us. I love that the Japanese love nature. While in the actual shrine, we witnessed many prayer rituals, including ritual cleansing and a marriage. I also bought a charm for good travel. And I got a balloon from a stuffed mascot. It was a fantastic morning.

We went back to the entrance of Harajuku. The district is centered on “Takeshita Street,” which I find hilarious. Back in the day, I praised Camden in London for being an awesome shopping and cultural experience. Harajuku may just be better. EVERYBODY THERE IS SO WEIRD. That being said, everybody has such swagger. Seriously, everyone is so fly, even if they’re wearing knee-high feather boots and a neon yellow tutu with a spandex top and ridiculous eye makeup. I’m more than a little jealous of the Japanese; I felt really unstylish while I was in Harajuku. However, unlike Camden, bargaining is hard to come by, and things are not cheap. While exploring, I ran into Marek, Alden, Brian, Ali, Tess, and a handful of other folks. I ended up getting to meet Alden and Ali’s parents; they were visiting because it was Alden’s birthday. I got hugs! I got parent hugs! Those ought to last me until I get back to America. Mom and Dad, I miss parent hugs!

When we finished up exploring Harajuku, we set off to get some sushi from a restaurant in the Shibuya District with a conveyor belt that displayed the food. It took a while to find it; we had to ask for some help. Once we made it, we stuffed our faces full of raw fish. I will say, sushi in Japan is not like sushi in America. It’s more straightforward. And probably healthier. That being said, I still enjoyed it. We then explored around Shibuya for a few hours, admiring all the lights and shops. We ran into Lou, who had split off earlier, and met her friend who is currently studying abroad in Tokyo. He took us out for a fabulous night on the town. I drank a delicious Pimm’s in a British Pub. It made me miss London.

The next day, I had the chance to tour around Tokyo on my own. No need to worry, fearful family and friends. The city is safer than any city in America. I began the day with an adventure to Roppongi Hills, a shopping mall. I didn’t shop, though. I only went there for Tokyo City View, a 52^nd story 360 degree observation deck of the whole city. From it, I could see Tokyo Disney, Tokyo Tower, Tokyo Bay, Shibuya, and all of the parks. There was also a second observation deck on the very top, which I decided to explore. The day was a bit hazy, so the view wasn’t as impressive as it could’ve been; they said on a good day you could see Mt. Fuji. With my ticket to the Tokyo City View, I was also admitted entry to the Mori Art Museum. There was an exhibit on the architecture of Japan and Tokyo in the context of post-World War Two. Let me just say that the Japanese are brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Their ideas are beyond our time period, that’s for sure. Building cities upward instead of side-to-side? I think it’s a great idea.

I wandered around some more, meeting up with Gabriela, Maria, and Whit at one point. I also enjoyed WiFi at a McDonald’s in the anime district. Again, weird. Again, awesome. I made my way back to Yokohama, our port, by taking the train. Once I got there, the city was sort of dead. I walked around with Causey, Julie, Jessie, and Paula in an attempt to ride a ferris wheel, but I instead got dinner with Jake and Linda. Then it started to rain. I stayed out with Shelbi, Liz, and Yancey, though. Soaked by the end of the night. Great success.

The final day in Japan came much too soon. I spent it with SAS on a field program to Mt. Fuji and Hakone National Park. Long story short, it was a beautiful, cloudy day. We could only see the mountain from the Visitor’s Center and the 5^th Station. Granted, they were both very high, the latter being at 7,500 feet, but it would’ve been nice to see the all too often scene panorama. At the end of the day, we took a short ride on a lake and up a chairlift. The clouds obstructed my view, but it gave me a chance to think about the past month in Asia. I certainly had a very different experience in the East than in Africa, but both painted a beautiful picture of the world. That picture, though, is not complete. There are three ports left. After that, though, it still won’t be complete. I’ve realized the world is more complex than I previously thought. Just before we left our port, a group of Japanese folks performed a drumming show for us as a goodbye sendoff. Everybody rushed to the port side of the ship to enjoy the performance. What a perfect, perfect end to a beautiful and life-changing month in Asia.

So, a few observations about Japan, in a nutshell:

They love nature, their religions are relatively secular in outlook, manners are extremely important, toilets are awesome, the railway system is better than the one in America, it’s EXPENSIVE, everything is really cute and/or old, the night life is not particularly impressive, there are many…adult entertainment shops, the language is really pleasant (especially when compared to what we just experienced in China), taxi fares are nonnegotiable, Kyoto is my favorite city, traveling independently is wildly easy, and my expectations were met and exceeded. I’m coming back when I actually have money. 

Upon leaving Japan, we entered the Pacific Ocean. Though it may not sound not exciting, especially when considering my descriptions of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, it is worth writing about. Between slaving my life away to the man by writing what seems like a million and one papers (including an 8-10 page monster for my Literature class), I’ve slept a lot and helped plan a few events with Program Board, including the Talent Show, an acoustic Coffeehouse, and a “retro” Karaoke Night. Sleeping has become a regular event on the ship for most people; nobody seems to have a normal Circadian Rhythm anymore, so when someone is sleeping, even if it’s at 2:30 in the afternoon, it isn’t a nap. They are asleep. I slept from 5 P.M. to 9 P.M. the other day and then 5:30 A.M. to Noon. Day and night don’t seem to matter anymore. Constantly changing time zones haven’t helped. We also time traveled and lived the same day twice. No, the MV Explorer didn’t turn into the DeLorean; we just crossed the International Date Line. In the lives of the members of the Fall 2011 Voyage of Semester at Sea, we had two November 19^th, 2011’s. When I first realized this would be the case, I thought it would just be a funny chance at living the same day twice in different ways. It actually ended up being fairly confusing; all the posters advertising particular events and meetings said “1^st November 19^th” and “2^nd November 19^th,” and we didn’t have class the second November  19^th, both of which added to the confusion.

On the 2^nd November 19^th, the Shipboard Drive sponsored the Auction, an event held each voyage to raise money for ISE Scholarships, including the one I am on as a Work Study student in the Communications Office. A few weeks, auditions were held to pick auctioneers, and I had the chance to try out. Sure enough, I was one of the four picked! Standing up there in front of the entire shipboard community and trying my best to up sell and get rid of each of the items was extremely nerve wracking, but turned out to be ridiculously fun. My fellow auctioneers, Jimmy, Marek, and Duggan, all did a fantastic job, and together we raised over $10,000. One moment that was particularly awkward, though, was when I was selling a week long trip to Honolulu, Hawaii. A girl, who shall remain nameless, bid on it, thinking it would be fun to get in on the excitement of the auction. However, nobody bid on it afterwards, leaving it up to her to buy the trip despite not actually wanting it. She pleaded with me from the audience to not make her pay because she would refuse to anyway, but alas, the rules of the auction applied. Thankfully, the person who bid before her bought the item off her and she only ended up having to pay the difference. Still, as the person selling the item to her, I felt very bad that she didn’t want it. Other than that, the auction was a great time for everyone and a huge success.

This morning, we arrived in Honolulu! Only problem is that we aren’t allowed to get off the ship; we are only here to refuel. Our actual time on land in America will come tomorrow in Hilo on the Big Island on Thanksgiving. It felt strange looking out my window and seeing the American flag waving. It felt strange to speak in perfect English with no uncertainties based on accent or inflection to the immigration officer. It felt strange seeing other people use their phones to call people. It felt even stranger to borrow someone’s phone to do so. It felt strangest sending a text; I feel like I’ve forgotten. I had to think about and remind myself how to move my fingers like that.

I wouldn’t say I feel at home, but I do feel home, if that makes any sense. I shouldn’t say that, though, because there are still two ports left after Hawai’I before the actual return to the States.

That feels weird saying. Where did this semester go?

Happy Thanksgiving, readers.

Let's Get Down to Business

Preface: We were warned by the higher ups on the ship that some satellite dish or other high tec mumbo jumbo would interfere with the internet on the ship. As such, posting this became impossible. I’m already in Japan at this point, but that entry will, of course, come at the end of my stay here.

Let’s get down to business

To defeat the Huns.

Did they send me daughters

When I asked for sons?

You’re the saddest bunch I ever met,

And you can bet that when we’re through,

Mister, I’ll, make a man out of you!

I wish I could say I wrote that masterpiece, but alas, that was Disney. The Huns never actually were in China; they were a Germanic tribe like the Anglos and the Goths. Disney most likely meant the Mongols, but the Huns works better with the tune. I won’t question it, and you shouldn’t either.

China. You may have heard of it. There’s a wall there. I hiked on it. It’s big. Actually, it’s GREAT. China itself, though, is both great and not-so-great. Here’s the story of six days in the world’s most populous country. Like my South Africa entry, I’ll be splitting this up into specific sections, this time being the cities rather than the days.

City one: Hong Kong! It’s like China-lite. By that, I mean it’s clean, capitalist, and ultra-modern. The Chinese like to say that it’s “two systems, one country,” as in Hong Kong is different from Mainland China mainly because of the former (very recent) British occupation that has left an enormous legacy on the city-state. You can absolutely feel the Westernization in Hong Kong when compared to the rest of China. It’s extremely autonomous in that most of all their matters are separate from the Mainland. In fact, they use a different currency: the Hong Kong Dollar. Their 10 dollar bill is a shiny neon purple. I saved one. Essentially, Hong Kong, Macau, and Taiwain are all “technically” China, but are autonomous capitalist regions, with Taiwan being completely separated from the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and instead being called the Republic of China (ROC). Confused yet? I am.

After what seemed like the most frustratingly long immigration process yet, Valleria and I hopped off the ship and walked around the mall. No, we didn’t take a taxi there; we literally got off the ship and we were in a mall.  Hong Kong, like Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia, feels like a giant shopping mall. I must’ve walked in or around about six throughout the entire day, each one seeming more high end than the last. No money? Definitely a problem. As Valleria and I walked around, we saw a bunch of other SAS students lost and confused in this giant mall that was technically considered our port. We hadn’t experienced anything like it; the V&A Waterfront in Cape Town had nothing on the Ocean Terminal in HK. When we finally found our way out after a brief WiFi detour, we walked around outside for a bit. We were totally in the thick of it. The buildings? Tall. The traffic? Loud. The people? Numerous. Limited space seems to be a common theme in Asia.

Later on, Valleria and I met up with Diana and took the Star Ferry to Hong Kong Island and grabbed a bus to the Victoria Peak Tram. Again, the crowds were pretty crazy, but we were able to take the Peak Tram with the SAS Parent Trip. Mom and Dad, it would’ve been fun if you came, but I understand the appeal of going to Hawaii for your 25^th Anniversary instead. Congrats, by the way. Anyway, the Tram was steep and scary and, of course, crowded with people. At the top was a mall. And a Burger King. I had that for lunch. Cultural, right? God bless America. The view of Hong Kong was also pretty spectacular, featuring some of the most fabulous skyscrapers just about anywhere. After wandering around for far too long in the giant touristy mall and not being able to find the exit, we hiked down from the top to the city. I use the word “hike” loosely, however, because it was mostly just walking along the street. I had to split off from Diana and Valleria when we made it to the bottom because the whole thing took longer than we expected and I had made dinner plans with other people. I found myself having to take the subway system to get back to the Ocean Terminal. I was excited by the prospect of having to go underground again, having not used a subway system since Canada, but it proved to vehemently annoying. Like everywhere else in Hong Kong, it was crowded, but it wasn’t marked particularly well; they could’ve used a few more maps and information desks, but the adventure was only more exciting since it was all up to me. When I finally made it back, I took a cab back to the Ocean Terminal and the ship.

That night, I went out with Lily and a bunch of other people for her birthday to a fancy Japanese restaurant in the mall. That one certainly set me back a few bucks. HK, in general, is expensive, especially having come from some of the cheapest places on the planet (Vietnam, Cambodia, India, even Malaysia somewhat). In the middle of dinner, we stepped outside to watch the infamous lightshow. Every night, the skyline of HK lights up with flashing lights. Truthfully, it was relatively underwhelming. I expected a flashier performance. Even still, though, the skyline at night is pretty wild, unlike anything else I had ever seen before. After our meal, we headed out for the night via the Star Ferry and a taxi to Lan Kwai Fong, the main bar scene for expats, locals, tourists, and travelers. It seemed SAS had taken over that night with students spilling out of the bars and into the long L-shaped street. The watering holes themselves were extremely varied, but most of them were pretty small. Somebody said there were over 200 bars in this one area. I believe it.

City two: Beijing! It’s sprawling and polluted; the smog is thick, making it difficult to see the sun. Anyway, after waking up following our night out in HK, we took the train to the airport. Along the way, we saw the less attractive underbelly of the city. Run down apartments lined the sides as we exited the main area of the island. However, after that, the rest of the way to the airport was beautiful. “Hong Kong” actually means something like beautiful harbor. The airport was HUGE. Lily, Brooke, and I set out to find food once we found our gate. We walked for what seemed like far too long of a distance in any airport to find some grub. It was only on our way back did we discover the train (similar to the one at Denver’s airport) to get to the food. Three cheers for looking closely! On the plane, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a Chinese gentleman. That was an experience. Chinese people have a different idea of politeness than in the west. As a sign of enjoying their food, they slurp it. Sure enough, during the in-flight meal service, he slurped it, and it was the most awful noise I have ever heard anybody make while eating. Chinese people also push, shove, cut in line, and shout a lot, all of which I experienced while on the plane. Pleasant? Not so much, but it certainly was an experience.

I wasn’t traveling with an SAS-sponsored trip. I was, instead, doing a tour with Global Citizens, a company founded by SAS alumni. They’ve been known for not having the greatest organization in terms of their trips. From what I understand, one of their India trips was particularly chaotic. Needless to say, I was a bit worried, but it worked out fine. We met our tour guides, Joe and Steven when we arrived. Those aren’t their actual names, but they told us to call them that because Chinese names are hard to pronounce correctly for non-native speakers. Upon arriving in the city, we checked in at the Holiday Inn Express. Crappy, right? Wrong! It was just as fancy and high class as the hotels I stayed in in Cambodia and Malaysia. After showering and freshening up, we walked across the street to a restaurant to try some peking duck, Beijing’s famous dish that America poorly imitates. I hadn’t thought that, though, until I had the real thing. It is incredibly tasty. When dinner came to a close, Lily, Christina, John, I, and some others went out to check out the club scene in Beijing. Like every other place in China, it was crowded, perhaps the most crowded clubbing experience I had ever had. It was Lily’s birthday, so we were going from each place as she wished. By the end of the night, it was just the two of us. We went back to the hotel and decided we wanted food. So, like any good college student, we got delivery. To be more specific, delivery McDonald’s. Again, cultural, am I right? French fries at 4 A.M. never tasted so good.

The next morning, we awoke early to head to the Temple of Heaven. It was incredibly crowded and big, but it was really interesting. The temple itself was different from others I had seen. During our tour, I bought a tacky panda hat from a vendor. Excellent purchase. Tons of other people on the ship bought them. It’s funny. We then went to the Pearl Market. Shopping in China is more inside than the markets in other countries, but it’s still a fun experience. Bargaining is very, very easy in China, or maybe I’ve just gotten good at it. I think it’s a combination of both.

Afterwards, we started our drive to the Great Wall of China. It’s called the Great Wall because it’s pretty damn great. The drive was beautiful, reminding me a lot of I-70 in Colorado heading west from Denver to Glenwood Springs. Marek was sitting behind me and we commented numerous times about how the scenery was similar. We went through a few tunnels similar to the Eisenhower Tunnel and I saw a ton of hills that could’ve been A-Basin, Vail, or Beaver Creek. Northern China is far more rugged and mountainous than I previously thought. When we reached the Wall, we hadn’t actually reached the Wall; we had to hike to it on a built trail. After about 45 minutes, we made it to the Great Wall of China.

First and foremost, the views are incredible. Spectacularly beautiful mountains careened out of fertile valleys and seemed to disappear into the clouds. Second, it was cold. I’m not sure what elevation we were at, but it was cold most likely because of that. Third, the hike was extremely difficult. Parts of the Wall are falling apart since it is so old, so the path wasn’t always clear, easy, marked, or put together. It’s also fairly steep in a lot of portions, so there were times when crawling on your hands and knees were necessary. Lastly, a Mongolian woman named Pu held my hand for part of the way. Pu is a farmer who walks two hours to the Wall each day to try and sell trinkets, books, and t-shirts to struggling tourists hiking on the Wall. Though I didn’t want anything she was selling, she was so charming and kind that I decided to help her out by buying a few things. She helped me out until just about the end. When we finally made it after about three miles, we had dinner at a traditional restaurant, set up camp on the Wall, celebrated with a few drinks and conversation, and then started to call it a night. The whole experience was amazing and inspiring.

Then we were kicked off the Wall by Chinese authorities because five people started a fire and we were held hostage for about ten hours.

Nope, I’m not lying. Long story short, five people (who shall remain nameless) wandered to a different tower and started a small fire using wood they didn’t realize was some important relic of the Wall. When Chinese authorities discovered them, they kicked the fire five, our group, and another group off the Wall and forced us to set up camp in what seemed like nothing more than a glorified parking lot. I wasn’t entirely surprised, especially considering Joe and Steven told us that sleeping on the Wall “wasn’t illegal, but wasn’t exactly legal.” On a different note, if I had known that little detail, I would’ve picked a different trip. Anyway, while the rest of us were attempting to sleep, the fire five were taken into custody and were interrogated for about two hours by screaming Chinese men. They were told they had to cough up a bunch of cash or risk going to jail. They weren’t given the chance to make any phone calls or explain themselves; due process of law is certainly not the same as it is in America. To make the situation a little better, when their first round of interrogation was over, they cleaned up the mess on the Wall that was left behind. It didn’t help. It actually made matters worse for them because they were extorted for even more money to pay off whatever bribe they were trying to fulfill. While this ordeal was going on in the morning, we were sitting in the freezing cold restaurant we ate in the night before while waiting to find out what was going on. When they came up with the money, the whole ordeal was finally over and we were allowed to leave. Since we left late, we had to miss our huton and city tour by rickshaw, which wasn’t really my reason for going on this particular trip, so it was fine. We still got to eat lunch at another traditional restaurant and tour Tiannamen Square and the Forbidden City, both of which were enjoyable. You’d think that I would be really upset by the situation, but I still had a damn great time on the Great Wall. Global Citizens, you did well.

City three: Shanghai! The sleeper train from Beijing to Shanghai was way more advanced than the one to and from Kerala and Chennai. I had my own bed with a TV and temperature control. Granted, I had to share my cabin with three awkward Chinese people instead of my friends, but we didn’t talk much, so it was okay. When we woke up, we wandered into the bustling Shanghai train station. Since it was so bustling, I got separated from the main group with Savannah and Will. The three of us attempted to find a taxi to get us to the ship, but none of them understood our directions, thinking we wanted to go to the airport instead of the ship. We asked a policeman, but that didn’t help at all. The language barrier hasn’t gotten in the way that much at all during the voyage, but it was extremely apparent in China, especially Shanghai. We met up with two other SAS students and finally reached the end of our rope and called the ship. They spoke to a taxi driver we found and gave them the proper directions. We finally reached the port a solid three hours after our train arrived.

The next two days in Shangai were mostly spent walking around. Of the three Chinese cities, it was probably my least favorite. I certainly liked it, but it just felt difficult to get around in, and two days was definitely not enough. The highlight was at the end of my final day. After six days of having extremely mixed and conflicting feelings about China, my love for the country was solidified by visiting the Jade Buddha Temple with Luke. All the way on the opposite side of Shanghai from the ship, it took a while to get to it, but it was definitely worth it. While we weren’t on any sort of official tour, we walked around on our own and interacted with a few nice people. There were monks chanting upon our arrival and the whole temple was beautiful. It provided a fantastic sense of clarity about how I feel about the country: I love it. Sure, the communism is pretty insufferable, it’s definitely a police state, the language isn’t exactly pleasant, and their conventions of manners are hard to understand, but the culture is fraught with history and the people are generally kind. The Great Wall, the temples, Hong Kong, all of them made for a overwhelmingly enjoyable experience.

I could probably live in China for a summer, but not for a lifetime. Now, our final Asian port, my most anticipated country on this voyage: JAPAN!

Back in 'Nam

I have to get this out of my system before I move on to actaully talking about Vietnam. I just have to. I’m a 20 year old male college student, so it is required of me.

The Vietnamese currency is called the dong, Twilight’s name is “Hung Dong,” and a common noodle soup eaten in Vietnam is called pho (pronounced “fuh”). All three of these led to numerous jokes made by the shipboard community during and immediately following our stop in Vietnam. “I threw down so much dong back in ‘Nam!” is a good example. Cut us some slack on the maturity front.

My first real experience of Vietnam was of drinking. We landed in the evening in Saigon after flying from Siemp Reap, so we couldn’t really go to any museums or sites. We were told Saigon is a backpacker city, so there’s a solid central location, known as the Backpackers District, where we can find all the bars. Luke, Brandy, Reid, Christina and I had all returned from Cambodia together, so we set out for the night in Saigon together. A small group of taxi drivers and motorcycle drivers were constantly stationed just outside the port. Everytime a group of students approached them for a ride, a huge mob of people would try and pander us for rides. It was a little frightening at times. We opted for a taxi this time since we had quite a few folks. The two prime spots were Buffalo Bar and Go2, two multi-level bars on opposite sides of the street. When we arrived in our taxi, bar satff from both venues swarmed us, trying to get us into their bar to drink with them. I’m relatively certain we picked Buffalo Bar first and went up to the rooftop terrace to enjoy the company of other SAS students. It didn’t really matter which bar we chose because everybody that was out floated freely between both bars and they were relatively similar. Alcohol is CHEAP, CHEAP, CHEAP in Saigon. A beer for $3 is too much. I had four cocktails during Happy Hour one night for only $9. Most places don’t have covers except for on the weekends, and even then are very cheap. We shouldn’t get used to this, apparently, though, because Hong Kong is supposed to be expensive with regard to drinking. Better put on my best outfit and flirt my way to inebriation!

On my first true day in Vietnam, I started off with some food at a sushi place right outside the port. The port in Saigon was interesting because you’d step off the ship, walk a few hundred feet, and be outside on a busy street. The phrase “busy street in Saigon” is a bit redundant because the traffic is outrageous. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle all the time; the streets are full of cars, taxis, motorbikes, people, animals, it’s pure madness. Traffic laws are basically suggestions, sort of reminiscent to how they were in India. The best way to cross the street? Enter when there’s a small break and just cross while hoping you survive the onslaught of Vietnamese traffic. If you look while crossing, your dear-in-headlights face will not save you and you will be run over—at least I assume that’s what will happen because I didn’t actually witness any of that happening. I will say that even after crossing the street numerous times for three days amd three nights, Vietnamese drivers know what they are doing. They would whiz around groups of people and cars in order to avoid certain contact. Often it felt like the video game Frogger. Long tangent aside, the sushi was delicious! Japan is just around the corner...

Leaving the restaurant, I headed towards the center of the city. When I arrived, I approached a motorcycle driver about a ride to the War Remnants Museum, a museum dedicated to the Vietnam War (or, as they call it, the American War). It turned out the driver, named Young, was willing to take me on an entire tour of the city, whisking me around from place to place on the back of his bike. My intended first stop was closed for a few hours due to power outages (sounds like Cambodia), so we went to a buddhist temple instead. Buddhism is a peaceful religion based on finding nirvana, and the temple was no different. There were people praying, lighting incense sticks, and quietly meditating. It was a lovely break from the constant quick pace of Saigon.

Following the temple, we returned back to the War Remnants Museum. I wasn’t sure what to expect, having only learned about the Vietnam War from an American perspective. I was totally blown away. There certainly was a feeling of strong anti-Americanism, but considering the material, it seemed appropriate. There were several exhibits on three different floors. Many of the photographs in the exhibits were grisly, graphic, and gruesome. Especially moving was the section on Agent Orange, also known as Napalm, but chemically named 2,3,7,8-Tetrachlorodibenzodioxin. While the original intention of the United States military was to spray Agent Orange over the jungles and grasslands in order to clear the dense foliage, what actually ended up happening was a huge amount of accidental exposure to humans, causing birth defects, cancer, serious maiming, and death. There were pictures depicting people affected by Agent Orange in the museum. They were harrowing, to say the least.

Young took me around to several other tourist spots in the city, including the Reunification Palace, the Notre Dame, the Central Post Office, and the Hong Kong Market. We conversed along the way, talking about our family, friends, lives, and the like. It felt like I was making a friend. I definitely had made a friend—after my visit to the War Remnants Museum, I told him I was so sorry that my people and my blood did this to his people and his blood, that I hoped we could be friends despite past tensions between the Vietnamese and Americans. He said it was fine and that we were okay. He even took me out to a traditional locals restaurant where we shared a delicious meal and drinks. He taught me how to toast a drink in Vietnamese and told me where the best places to go in the city were to have fun at night. I was amazed by his compassion and humanity in light of horrible misdeeds that occurred during the war (which he was alive during!). The night finished much like the night before—debaucherous. An amazing day coupled with a lot of fun with my friends night made for what was one of the best days of my life.

The next two days were much more slowly paced. They really only consisted of exploring Saigon some more by way of motorbike, shopping, and getting a massage. None of my drivers were as personable and friendly as Young, though they were good men, nonetheless. I did most of my shopping at the Benh Thanh Market, a large marketplace in central Saigon. Bargaining is ridiculously easy in Vietnam. A bottle of Hugo Boss cologne? $10. A bunch of t-shirts? $8. A pointed traditional head piece? $1. It can get expensive if you buy a lot of things, but individual items are outrageously cheap. Sure, they may be knock off, but you can’t put a price on cheap DVD’s…well, you can, but you know what I mean. The massage was also on the cheaper side, but wasn’t the best as it consisted of a lot of punching. They aren’t your typical Sweedish massages! Even still, it was worth it.

While I may not have left Saigon, and I may not have seen everything in the city I wanted to see, my time in Vietnam was certainly well spent. It makes you think, though, since there was a war so recently, so here’s a little something to consider.

Whether or not you agree with the war and our involvement in southeast Asia is irrelevant. It’s long over and we lost. Sure, American textbooks say it was a stalemate, but who really wants to admit defeat anyway? I picked up a magazine while on my fight from Siemp Reap to Saigon and there was a brief history of Vietnam that said they had won the American War. You don’t hear that in America. You also don’t really hear about Agent Orange. History is written by those in power. Like I said, though, our involvement is not relevant. What is important, though, is how wars our fought and how humanity treats humanity. Dioxin, the primary compound found in Agent Orange, has been described by scientists as being the “most harmful and toxic chemical ever discovered by mankind to date,” and that only 85 grams could wipe out an entire city of 8 million. You’d think we’d learn our lesson, but biological, chemical, and radioactive war is not a thing of the past. It still exists in the world. What really amazes me, though, is the human capacity to forgive. The Vietnamese could shove us the bird and say “pho America!” Nope! Instead, they do quite the opposite; they welcome us with genuine waves and smiles. I’ve made friends with a handful of locals on this voyage, but Young was the best. I wish I had kept his e-mail.

Vietnam and Cambodia were two beautiful countries that incited a lot of reflection on what humanity is and what it is capable of. Southeast Asia, you have stolen my heart! Next stop: Hong Kong!

From Temples to Fields: Three Days in Cambodia

We left Saigon, formerly known as Ho Chi Minh City two mornings ago at 6 A.M, mostly so we could leave with the tides. Most locals and travelers, though, still refer to HCMC by its former title, which I think makes sense since that was its name until the 1970’s. It’s been an exhausting, emotional, and exciting few days between here and Cambodia; I’m, of course, going to be splitting this up into two entries: three days in Cambodia and three days in Vietnam. Even though they have technically been considered the same port with the ship docked in Saigon, I’ve had two very unique experiences in each country, so they each deserve their own entries. They may even need more than one, much like India, because I’ve been tested so much while docked here and have had some incredible, eye-opening experiences. First order of business: Cambodia!

Unlike all of our other ports, Saigon is up a river. As such, pulling into it was vastly different scenery. There were many ships and factories along the banks, the water wasn’t as clear as the ocean, and the plant life was abundant. We had entered the jungles of Vietnam so often heard about when the war is discussed. The thought on a lot of our minds was that a war was fought here within our lifetime, which I think is understandable considering that’s what most Americans think of when they hear Vietnam. Anyway, my original plan was to join Nikki, Brian, Ali, Alden, and other folks for breakfast and a jaunt around Saigon. I decided against that, though, because I didn’t sleep that much the night before (again) and I hadn’t packed for Cambodia. So, I did what any SAS student with down time on the ship would do: I slept. When I woke up, I got my stuff together and headed up to the Union for my trip to Cambodia. Ask me what my first memory of Saigon was and I’ll tell you it was sleeping in my room. Some may say “Sam! What a waste! You should’ve gone out!” I say “Whatever. I needed it.” That’s my rationalization, and I’m sticking to it!

Cambodia was my first and only SAS overnight trip. Every other overnight I have done was with a third party company or was independent. I was skeptical at first because of what I have heard about some of their trips, but also eagerly awaiting my jaunt across the border into Phonm Penh and Siemp Reap. After gathering everyone together, we loaded onto the bus and made our way to the airport. Traffic in Saigon is ridiculous, but I’ll probably go into more detail on that in my Vietnam entry. It doesn’t seem appropriate for right now. Anyway, the airport in Saigon is really fancy and clean. It was also fairly empty for a major international airport. There weren’t nearly as many people there as there usually are at DIA or Dulles. Perhaps it has something to do with how there are far fewer gates, but that’s just a speculation. I had my first taste of the food at a restaurant in the airport—delicious spring rolls with pho (pronounced “fuh,” which is borderline obscene, but only if you have the maturity of a college-aged male). It felt weird being in an airport for some reason, but also exciting in a way because seeing the land from air is a totally different experience than observing it from a train, bus, taxi, shuttle, van, bike, rickshaw, ship, boat, catamaran, tuk tuk, camel, or any other land or water-based method of transport that I have taken this semester. Sure, those things are nice, but from the air, your vantage point increases substantially. I’m glad we didn’t have to waste half the day driving and instead opted for air travel.

When we landed in Phonm Penh, we had to go through visa acquisition, immigration, customs, and goods declaration before we could leave. The lines were shorter then other international airport lines I have stood in, but it took just as long because of how many steps we had to take. The visa cost 20 big ones, but it’s a sparkly green color, so it was worth it (because it got me into the country, of course, not because of its aesthetics). Getting through immigration required thumb and hand prints and a photograph. You see what I mean when I say it took just as long despite shorter lines? Just like the Saigon airport, it was clean, beautiful, and relatively empty. We need to have more airports like that in America.

Our first stop was a cruise on the Mekong River. We were told it would be a sunset cruise, but we lost the race against time and it ended up being a night cruise, which ended up being okay because we got to admire all the lights on the shoreline. Phnom Penh is a bigger city than I expected, so there was quite a bit of activity on the river. The cruise was fairly short; we basically did a giant loop that took only about 30 minutes. Following it, we returned to the bus and visited the Palm Tree Orphanage, a small orphanage that serves to aid children of Phnom Penh. SAS has had a long relationship with Palm Tree; they’ve been visiting for several years and there was even a student from a previous voyage helping out during our visit. The children put on a traditional Cambodian performance for us, complete with dancing, music, and singing. During the middle of the show, the power went out; electricity is limited, so at certain times throughout the day, it is shut off in the poorer parts of the city. They powered through the lack of power, putting on the rest of their show for us before taking us on a tour of the facility. The kids there are extremely friendly; I went around with one girl who wanted to be a singer and spoke very good English.

Following the orphanage, we went out to a traditional Cambodian, or Khmer, restaurant. Think delicious fruit, pho, rice, and soup. We also ate amok, a fish dish. Fish dish is fun to say. We were given chopsticks, too; we’ve arrived in Asia! The restaurant itself had a stunning interior; there was a balcony on the level we were seated, as well as several fountains. Dinner ended and we headed to our hotel, another fancy venue with a beautiful lobby area. The biggest plus of SAS trips over independent travel? How they feed and house you, apparently. I had a single room that I’m pretty sure was the Presidential Suite because it was so enormous. There was a kitchen, sitting area, a giant bathroom, and a huge bed. I lucked out. We all met in the bar downstairs for a few drinks before heading out in a tuk tuk for a night out. Tuk tuks are basically a combined taxi and rickshaw, so they’re pretty fun to ride around. We stumbled across a club named Heart of Darkness; Joseph Conrad would be proud. There was no cover, alcohol was cheap, and the prostitutes were excited to see a bunch of white people. Yeah, that’s right, there were prostitutes. Several of us were approached by them for money. As far as I know, everybody turned them down. I was also approached by a pimp who told me he could get me “anything you want,” to which I politely declined. Casual pimpin’ at a Cambodian club—you know how it goes.

The next morning, the alarm in my room didn’t go off and I had accidentally set my watch forward, so I was under the impression everyone had left already and I would be screwed for the day. Turns out that nobody had received a wake up call, so we were all a little behind schedule. It ended up being that I only missed breakfast, but still, I was rushed so I wasn’t exactly completely a person right away. We began the day with a visit to the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda in central Phnom Penh. The Royal Palace, as the name implies, is where the king lives. Did you know the official name of Cambodia is the Kingdom of Cambodia? As a constitutional monarchy, their system of government is somewhat similar to the UK in which the monarch is mostly just a figure with little to no political power. The palace itself is a giant complex that was built in the 1860’s to serve as the royal residence. Simply put, it is beautiful. Though I didn’t go to the Taj Mahal in India, many folks were saying it was even better, mostly because it was far less touristy. It seems I picked my trips correctly! The architecture is so different than everywhere else I have been to so far—there are tons of spires and giant roofs that stack on top of each other. The Silver Pagoda is part of the Royal Palace complex, located on the southern side. Housing tons of Buddhist treasures and gold statues, it’s a marvelous example of Khmer history and architecture. Its name comes from the floors of the building—they’re made of silver, so whenever you step on a loose piece, you can hear it creak underneath your feet. Outside of all this, the gardens were fabulously maintained; beautiful trees, flowers, and grasses were planted everywhere. It was early in the day, so we had the place almost entirely to ourselves.

Following the beauty and splendor of the royalty of Cambodia’s past and present, we headed for Tuol Sleng, formerly known as Security Prison 21 (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge, and before that known as Chao Ponhea Yat High School. For some reason, American schooling seems to gloss right over the recent genocide in Cambodia; I hadn’t really heard of it until relatively recently. In the simplest of explanations, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge regime came to power in April 1975 after scaring Cambodians into believing American forces were going to bomb Phnom Penh into oblivion. Their goal was to create a communist agrarian society in a new state named Democratic Kampuchea. To do this, they captured, tortured, and killed anybody they suspected of political treason and/or being an intellectual. What this meant was that anybody who lived in a city, had an education, wore eye glasses, was suspected of being a member of the CIA or KGB, was Vietnamese, or fell under a number of other “crimes” were sent to S-21 or any one of the many other prisons regulated by the Khmer Rouge. After three years, eight months, and 23 days of brutal rule, the Khmer Rouge were finally defeated by Vietnamese insurgents, which led to a war between the two countries. Only within the last 20 years has Cambodia begun to pick up the pieces and rebuild itself economically and demographically. Depressing, am I right?

We received a brief introduction from our guide when we arrived to Tuol Sleng before we were allowed to explore on our own. I decided to go around by myself to have my own experience and not get bogged down in waiting for someone else. Walking into the former bedrooms, jails, and cells of inmates was all very somber, but I had several moments that were particularly sobering. I’ll detail my feelings later, but I first ought to share what these moments were. At the beginning of my journey around the museum, there was a sign regarding former security regulations. On it listed ten different rules prisoners were forced to obey or face punishment:

1. You must answer accordingly to my question. Don’t turn them away.

2. Don’t try to hide the facts by making pretexts this and that, you are strictly prohibited to contest me.

3. Don’t be a fool for you are a chap who dare to thwart the revolution.

4. You must immediately answer my questions without wasting time to reflect.

5. Don’t tell me either about your immoralities or the essence of the revolution.

6. While getting lashes or electrification you must not cry at all.

7. Do nothing, sit still and wait for my orders. If there is no order, keep quiet. When I ask you to do something, you must do it right away without protesting.

8. Don’t make pretext about Kampuchea Krom in order to hide your secret or traitor.

9. If you don’t follow all the above rules, you shall get many lashes of electric wire.

10. If you disobey any point of my regulations you shall get either ten lashes or five shocks of electric discharge.

Following that, when I was in the group detention room, I locked myself in a former cell for a few moments. Next, I read a brief history of the Khmer Rouge and what they did to the country, including their rise and fall to power. Finally, former prisoner Bou Meng was there selling his book, which I bought.

Our next stop after the museum was Choeung Ek, one of the many killing fields that dot the country and were the sites of thousands of executions during the Khmer Rouge. Mass graves contain thousands of bodies of those put to death for merely being educated. In the middle of the site is a Buddhist stupa filled with human skulls and bones as a memorial for all those put to death. Walking around was frightening and sobering, leaving all of us with mixed feelings about ourselves and the world we live in, but again, I’ll get to that later.

We returned back to the airport to fly to Siemp Reap, another city in northern Cambodia and is the site of Angkor Wat, the famous temples that are portrayed on the Cambodian flag. The landscape of Cambodia is, again, incredible, but recent heavy rainfall in the region have led to serious floods. What appeared to be a lake was actually a large area of land covered in very deep water. Apparently, Bangkok is being hit pretty badly by the floods. When we landed in Siem Reap, we headed directly for a delicious buffet-style restaurant. Another SAS group was there! Our groups combined and we enjoyed a cultural dance show, similar to the one we saw at the orphanage in Phnom Penh, but more professional, obviously. Dinner theatre! Upon completion, I left with Christine, Liz, Brandy, Luke, Ali, and others to do some shopping in the night market. It was, perhaps, the most unique market experience I’ve had all year. It certainly gave Camden, Marrakech, and the Central Market in Malaysia a run for their money. The stalls were all outdoors and separated by little alleyways and columns. I bought a handful of things, including patches of every country I’ve gone to and will go to this year. I need to sew them on to something. I finished the night off with a $4 massage, which we were told was a must-do in Cambodia. It was totally worth it.

The next morning started early. By early, I mean 4:30 A.M. After loading back on the bus, our group plus the other SAS tour headed to Siem Reap’s main attraction of Angkor Wat to watch the sunrise. It was an optional tour, but I am so glad I chose to go because the sunrise was beautiful. It reflected off the watery moat in front of the temple to cast a golden blue light on the actual temple. If you’ve studied world history, you probably learned at least a little bit about the ancient Khmer Empire. It was located in southeast Asia in present day Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia, Laos, Myanmar, and Thailand. The greatest legacy of their rule was Angkor, which has now been called the largest pre-industrial urban center in the world. Angkor Wat itself has been both a religious center for Hinduism and Buddhism, and it is evident in the architecture and the people who visit. Carved into the walls are different Hindi deities and Buddha’s, and there were a large number of monks visiting while we were there. We all agreed that because of its enormous size, Angkor Wat would be the best possible place to play Hide and Seek. We didn’t have enough time to partake, unfortunately, but that may have been because we were too busy taking awesome pictures in all of the crevices, ledges, and stairs. After Angkor Wat, we visited Angkor Thom and several other temples. Angkor Thom’s claim to fame is that it’s the temple that was used for the filming of the Tomb Raider’s movie. I could almost feel Angelina Jolie’s presence. Many of the temples were built deep in the forest, so some of them had trees growing in and around them. If you go to Cambodia, make sure to visit more than just Angkor Wat.

During the flight back from Cambodia to Vietnam, I was lucky enough to sit in a window seat. While the flight was short, it was during sunset, so the view outside was breathtaking. I couldn’t help but think about the incredible contrasts of Cambodia and what I had seen over the past three days. I got to see the best of their history and their worst in a very short period of time. The massive infrastructure of Angkor Wat was a true testament to human ingenuity and hard work. It was truly inspiring to see what is probably the most amazing religious structure ever built. On the flip side, though, Cambodia has had an extremely rough half century, complete with genocide, war, famine, economic hardship and governmental instability. The  eerie voices of children begging me for “just $1” as I would walk away still are echoing. Their money, the Cambodian riel, is not nearly as accepted by the people as the United States dollar. It felt strange and insensitive to be using my money instead of theirs, but the crippling effects of the Khmer Rouge and their classless society is still felt. While I stood in the jail cell in Tuol Sleng and in the fields of Choeng Ek, I felt death’s cold hand all around me; I was standing in some of the places where, quite literally, one third of the Cambodian population was slaughtered. You had to try to not break down while visiting. What frightened me the most, however, were three things in particular. First, the American government supported the Khmer Rouge because of their stance towards the Vietnamese. We provided assistance in the form of bombing the countryside to keep people from escaping to Vietnam. American history textbooks don’t talk about this enormous error in human treatment. Imagine that, huh? Second, though the country is picking up the pieces, there continues to be a collective sense of post traumatic stress that pervades the country. Although the population is young, just about every Cambodian has a family member that suffered during the Khmer Rouge regime. Psychological issues from depression and anxiety to severe OCD plague the country because of the dark scare tactics used by Pol Pot and his minions. Finally, and perhaps scariest to me, is what many Cambodians believe happened to those who perished during the genocide. In their form of Buddhism, it is believed that if a person does not receive a proper burial, their soul is left to wander forever. Since none of the victims received a burial, there are millions of souls aimlessly meandering throughout the land that once gloriously was the center of southeast Asia. I can’t shake that image from my head, and I probably never will, but I will remind myself of the incredible comeback of the country. One of our tour guides hated the government, the education system, the economy, but said he must stay in the country to help out. The people could be angry and bitter, but instead genuinely love Cambodia, being Cambodian, and want what’s best for their country and their people. Human resiliance—no place taught me that better than Cambodia.

I want to come back and provide humanitarian aid so that those lost souls and traumatized victims can find some form of peace, even if it’s nothing more than one single dollar.