The day after the ball was difficult. It was the designated "packing day" for the entire ship and anything we were not planning on carrying off the ship had to be packed and ready to be put in the holding area by noon. Ben was still slightly feverish, Chris was now feeling the same symptoms and Jeremy was still out like a light. He had persuaded us to let him sleep outside with friends after the ball. I found out later that they did not sleep at all!
We had a quick breakfast and hurriedly packed up 4 months of clothes, gear and souvenirs. It was a daunting task and a sad one to boot which made It all the more difficult. We made it just under the wire and decided to use the rest of the day to soak in all the personalities we'd encountered on this voyage.
The ship was the thing. It was our community, our home, our family. But the reason we chose to make this voyage had everything to do with the ports of call. Traveling to distant countries, learning their histories and cultures. How exciting it was going to be! That was the point of the whole thing. Traveling via ship was just our transportation. The fact that 900+ plus people were accompanying us during the 4 months was just because they wanted to travel the world too. No one told us about the friendships. No one told us about the caring of each other, the learning from one another, the love that would unite us all. All of that was a surprise. But it was the icing. The friends we made and the relationships we fostered far out-shined The Great Wall of China, the privilege of visiting a recently opened Myanmar, the view from Table Mountain, even a camel ride through the Sahara. I think Ben said it best. As we were reminiscing with friends about the highlights of our voyage, a student posed the question to Ben, "Out of all the places we visited, what was your favorite place?" His answer...."the ship".
So on that last day, we did our very best to enjoy our last minutes with all our new friends. There was signing of maps and flags, video messages, books filled with notes of well wishes, happy we are friends and don't forget me's. Stories of our experiences over this voyage and agendas being defined for Barcelona. We made plans to see each other again and began the discussion of a reunion voyage where could all return on the same ship surrounded by all the same faces. I hope it happens. It's important that it does.
We were up early for the sunrise over Barcelona. Breakfast was a half hour early that morning as we were expected to disembark starting at 8am. All went according to plan and the auction winner got off first, followed by the Caribbean Sea (the student floors were named after the oceans) whose team won the Sea Olympics, then us, the Life-Long Learners, faculty and staff.
We got to the carousel to collect our luggage, all the while saying our last good byes. As we exited the port and the cool Spanish air hit me, I felt ok. I felt refreshed. I'll quote our executive dean here who quoted Green Day the day before...."Every new beginning is from some other beginning's end." As we pulled away from the port, Ben snapped pictures of the MVExplorer as best he could from our taxi window. And once the ship was out of sight, his tears began to flow.
1 ship
1 semester
16 cities
12 countries
4 continents
106 days
1031 explorers
That was the plan. That was the goal. Mission accomplished and so much more.
Bon Voyage, MVExplorer. We will meet again ; )
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The Sahara Desert (Marrakech entry supposed to come after this one. Sorry!)
We arrived in a city on the outskirts of the Sahara Desert. We gathered together what we needed for one night's stay, wrapped our heads in our newly purchased scarves and were introduced to our camels lying by the roadside waiting patiently for our arrival. It was so picturesque with too many photo opportunities, but Chris ran around trying to capture the essence of the moment as best he could. The rest of us hopped on a camel and readied ourselves for the trek. Chris was the last one to be paired with a hump-backed steed. The guides walked around hesitantly, not speaking a word while Chris kept asking for a camel. They would glance in his direction then would turn as if they were searching for something. Finally, it was decided that there was only one animal left and he would be Chris' transportation. As soon as Chris was seated on top of this huge creature, it became apparent that they had saved him for last because he obviously didn't like being a slave to the tourists. He snarled and growled and started foaming at the mouth. He jerked his head back each time the guide tried to settle him down and tighten his reign. Chris nervously laughed and held on tight as "Cowboy", a nickname affectionately given to him by Chris, rose to his full height...first his hind legs and then his front. Cowboy was not a happy camper and I think Chris probably moved from happy to holy crap! He bucked a little and growled. He resisted everything the guide tried to do. He led the camel and Chris off into the distance for a "time-out" but he still wasn't satisfied. Cowboy was not allowed to ride with the group of us, so for the duration, he and Chris, like the outlaws that they were, remained on the outskirts of the trail.
Other camel names given covered a diverse variety from Valerie to Kabob to Alfalfa. Ben took the prize with one student commenting, "You know you have a well-traveled kid when he names his CAMEL, 'Ho Chi Mhin'!"
We were all punchy with excitement. Afterall, we were riding a camel through the Sahara Dessert! For many of us, it quickly became the highlight of our voyage. I think it has something to do with the fact that this activity didn't ever register on anyone list of "must-dos" but when given the opportunity, we all realized it should have been on our list all along! Most of us had a comfortable ride. Jeremy, along with some of the other male students just decided to grin and bear it ; ) Chris, thwarting his rearing camel's attempts at biting him, white-knuckled it most of the way...
We trekked through the Hollywood movie set that is the Sahara just before sunset on flowing burnt orange sand dunes. It was timed just right that the air was dry and comfortable. The sun was at our backs for nearly an hour but the balance of the trek quickly brought cooler air and a cloudless sky. We sang songs, told stories and jokes and just laughed and embraced our truly fortunate situation.
The shadows disappeared as the sky became dark. With nothing to light our way we depended on our guides to take us to our campsite which was nowhere in sight. We all kept our eyes focused on the black distance in hopes of seeing flickering lights from a campfire. After several "Are we there yets" courtesy of Ben, we were led to the crest of a very subtle dune and there, just in the shallow valley below, appeared our glowing campsite. It was like a mirage.
We dismounted our sturdy camel creatures who gently dropped to their knees. As we entered the tent area, sounds of traditional music came wafting out of our camp enclosure. The entire area was covered with Moroccan wool rugs of red and black...the ground and even the walls of our tents. We unloaded our belongings into our tents then were invited to wash up for dinner. At the end of the camp just past the dining room were actual running water facilities. Sinks, showers and they provided portable toilets. A generator supplied the camp with electricity and lights for our evening meal.
The dining room was adorned once again with wool rugs. A padded bench followed the perimeter of the walls providing seating for the tables and comfort with mounds of throw pillows. White linen covered tables and and abundance of food...Moroccan salad, bread, Chicken Tangine and fruits of the season. This was truly a mirage.
Traditional dancing, music and singing followed dessert as we sat by the bon fire under a star-filled sky. A group of students, including Ben and Jeremy got together for a game of "Catch Phrase" which has quickly become our family's new favorite game. All of this in the middle of the desert.
We turned in around 10:30 as our wake up time of 5:30 was quickly approaching. The boys and I settled into our "family" tent and listened to the students who shared the aisle with us. They dragged their mattresses out of the tents to sleep under the stars. Brilliant. Ben could not stand it. He wanted to plop himself right down in the middle of all of them and join the slumber party. I was the party pooper and asked him to give the students their space. Too tired to argue, he fell fast asleep.
Other camel names given covered a diverse variety from Valerie to Kabob to Alfalfa. Ben took the prize with one student commenting, "You know you have a well-traveled kid when he names his CAMEL, 'Ho Chi Mhin'!"
We were all punchy with excitement. Afterall, we were riding a camel through the Sahara Dessert! For many of us, it quickly became the highlight of our voyage. I think it has something to do with the fact that this activity didn't ever register on anyone list of "must-dos" but when given the opportunity, we all realized it should have been on our list all along! Most of us had a comfortable ride. Jeremy, along with some of the other male students just decided to grin and bear it ; ) Chris, thwarting his rearing camel's attempts at biting him, white-knuckled it most of the way...
We trekked through the Hollywood movie set that is the Sahara just before sunset on flowing burnt orange sand dunes. It was timed just right that the air was dry and comfortable. The sun was at our backs for nearly an hour but the balance of the trek quickly brought cooler air and a cloudless sky. We sang songs, told stories and jokes and just laughed and embraced our truly fortunate situation.
The shadows disappeared as the sky became dark. With nothing to light our way we depended on our guides to take us to our campsite which was nowhere in sight. We all kept our eyes focused on the black distance in hopes of seeing flickering lights from a campfire. After several "Are we there yets" courtesy of Ben, we were led to the crest of a very subtle dune and there, just in the shallow valley below, appeared our glowing campsite. It was like a mirage.
We dismounted our sturdy camel creatures who gently dropped to their knees. As we entered the tent area, sounds of traditional music came wafting out of our camp enclosure. The entire area was covered with Moroccan wool rugs of red and black...the ground and even the walls of our tents. We unloaded our belongings into our tents then were invited to wash up for dinner. At the end of the camp just past the dining room were actual running water facilities. Sinks, showers and they provided portable toilets. A generator supplied the camp with electricity and lights for our evening meal.
The dining room was adorned once again with wool rugs. A padded bench followed the perimeter of the walls providing seating for the tables and comfort with mounds of throw pillows. White linen covered tables and and abundance of food...Moroccan salad, bread, Chicken Tangine and fruits of the season. This was truly a mirage.
Traditional dancing, music and singing followed dessert as we sat by the bon fire under a star-filled sky. A group of students, including Ben and Jeremy got together for a game of "Catch Phrase" which has quickly become our family's new favorite game. All of this in the middle of the desert.
We turned in around 10:30 as our wake up time of 5:30 was quickly approaching. The boys and I settled into our "family" tent and listened to the students who shared the aisle with us. They dragged their mattresses out of the tents to sleep under the stars. Brilliant. Ben could not stand it. He wanted to plop himself right down in the middle of all of them and join the slumber party. I was the party pooper and asked him to give the students their space. Too tired to argue, he fell fast asleep.
Marrakech (Sahara entry supposed to come before this one.)
We woke up just before the sun rose over the desert. I peeked my head out of the tent and saw that e ermine was up. Mattresses and blankets lined up outside the tents, the students were already at breakfast and taking pictures of the sunlit dunes.
Hard boiled eggs, yogurts, fruits, breads, tea and coffee. Perfect. We saddled up and were on out way by 7:30. The camels got shuffled around so, fortunately for Chris, he did not end up riding Cowboy out of the desert. We did see him leading 2 of our friends and couldn't have been more well-behaved. Hmmm...no need tho wonder why, but I'm sure it hurt Chris' feelings a little that he did not receive the same respect from Cowboy that he was giving his new passenger.
It was a beautiful night in the desert. A memory that I will stash away and re-run in my mind like an episode of "The Best In The Life And Times Of Belinda". We reached our destination where the buses were waiting for us and with precision end timing, we arrived just before the real heat of the day. We said our goodbyes to our camels and piled onto to bus for the final city of our Moroccan journey...Marrakech.
Marrakech was the prize at the end of the caravans across the Sahara so many centuries ago. The city center, The Medina, the old city was first constructed in the 10th century. It remains the heartbeat of Marrakech today. We checked into another mediocre hotel just before heading to the Medina for dinner. It is wild and chaotic a place as I'd ever seen. A huge open square surrounded by narrow alleyways of markets and restaurants. The square was so dense with people that we stayed not the outside of the massive crowd trying to make our way to the restaurant. Unbeknownst to us, the perimeter of the pedestrian crowd is also where the motorcycles, cars and horse carriages prefer to ride. It was Saigon on steroids! I knew it was overwhelming when Ben, in front of our friends, chose to hold my hand.
Thankfully, we had gat company at dinner because the meal fell short again. It might be that I just had high palate pleasing expectations for Morocco or we just failed to find the food everyone talks about as being so fabulous. Oh we'll, a reason to return. We turned in early after dinner. We only had half of the next day to tour Marrakech before heading back to the ship.
After much deliberation, we decided to return to the Medina to check out what it is like during the light of day. Much slower paced and void of the harried crowd from the night before, it seemed that we were in for a pleasant experience. We were approached my a local gentleman who offered to give us a 3 hour tour of the Medina at a "nice price". We did not have that kind of time, so we politely declined. Then he offered a one hour tour for, again, a "nice price". I wanted to see the place on our own so, Chris declined the offer again. The man looked at Chris from head to toe and barreled in again with another offer. Rudeness begets rudeness and the man finally left thoroughly disgusted by us. We ran into a friend who was being chased by and older gentleman dressed in traditional garb accusing the student of taking his picture and demanding money. She hid behind us until he gave up. Not the pleasant day I imagined. There were snake charmers and monkey trainers who we all looked at from a distance. If you showed any interest, they would hand you their animal and demand payment for the experience. We made our way through the alleyways still looking from a distance and ended up buying our souvenirs from the store keepers who did not chase us down.
We had just enough time to get back to the hotel, pick up lunch and get back on the bus for our last journey home. It started to sink in...this was our last port...the last time we'd be walking UP the gangway...where did all the time go?
We got to Casablanca around 5:00. The line was long as the crew members did their final checking of bags before boarding the MVExplorer for the last time. Their were hugs and laughter, sad pictures and silly ones. We were all feeling sentimental trying to hang on for just a little longer.
Later, I stood outside on deck 7 as they pulled in the gangway. We. Done with Morocco and on to our final port, Barcelona. I had never before experience the intense speed in which time can fly until then. I didn't want it to end.
Hard boiled eggs, yogurts, fruits, breads, tea and coffee. Perfect. We saddled up and were on out way by 7:30. The camels got shuffled around so, fortunately for Chris, he did not end up riding Cowboy out of the desert. We did see him leading 2 of our friends and couldn't have been more well-behaved. Hmmm...no need tho wonder why, but I'm sure it hurt Chris' feelings a little that he did not receive the same respect from Cowboy that he was giving his new passenger.
It was a beautiful night in the desert. A memory that I will stash away and re-run in my mind like an episode of "The Best In The Life And Times Of Belinda". We reached our destination where the buses were waiting for us and with precision end timing, we arrived just before the real heat of the day. We said our goodbyes to our camels and piled onto to bus for the final city of our Moroccan journey...Marrakech.
Marrakech was the prize at the end of the caravans across the Sahara so many centuries ago. The city center, The Medina, the old city was first constructed in the 10th century. It remains the heartbeat of Marrakech today. We checked into another mediocre hotel just before heading to the Medina for dinner. It is wild and chaotic a place as I'd ever seen. A huge open square surrounded by narrow alleyways of markets and restaurants. The square was so dense with people that we stayed not the outside of the massive crowd trying to make our way to the restaurant. Unbeknownst to us, the perimeter of the pedestrian crowd is also where the motorcycles, cars and horse carriages prefer to ride. It was Saigon on steroids! I knew it was overwhelming when Ben, in front of our friends, chose to hold my hand.
Thankfully, we had gat company at dinner because the meal fell short again. It might be that I just had high palate pleasing expectations for Morocco or we just failed to find the food everyone talks about as being so fabulous. Oh we'll, a reason to return. We turned in early after dinner. We only had half of the next day to tour Marrakech before heading back to the ship.
After much deliberation, we decided to return to the Medina to check out what it is like during the light of day. Much slower paced and void of the harried crowd from the night before, it seemed that we were in for a pleasant experience. We were approached my a local gentleman who offered to give us a 3 hour tour of the Medina at a "nice price". We did not have that kind of time, so we politely declined. Then he offered a one hour tour for, again, a "nice price". I wanted to see the place on our own so, Chris declined the offer again. The man looked at Chris from head to toe and barreled in again with another offer. Rudeness begets rudeness and the man finally left thoroughly disgusted by us. We ran into a friend who was being chased by and older gentleman dressed in traditional garb accusing the student of taking his picture and demanding money. She hid behind us until he gave up. Not the pleasant day I imagined. There were snake charmers and monkey trainers who we all looked at from a distance. If you showed any interest, they would hand you their animal and demand payment for the experience. We made our way through the alleyways still looking from a distance and ended up buying our souvenirs from the store keepers who did not chase us down.
We had just enough time to get back to the hotel, pick up lunch and get back on the bus for our last journey home. It started to sink in...this was our last port...the last time we'd be walking UP the gangway...where did all the time go?
We got to Casablanca around 5:00. The line was long as the crew members did their final checking of bags before boarding the MVExplorer for the last time. Their were hugs and laughter, sad pictures and silly ones. We were all feeling sentimental trying to hang on for just a little longer.
Later, I stood outside on deck 7 as they pulled in the gangway. We. Done with Morocco and on to our final port, Barcelona. I had never before experience the intense speed in which time can fly until then. I didn't want it to end.
Zagora, Morocco - To The Trek; Part 2
Based on past experiences, we were all looking forward to exquisite accommodations. No such luck. Dated, dark, hot and dingy, we tried to make ourselves as comfortable as we could. Chris and Jeremy wrestled a few cockroaches in their room while Ben and I went on a search for ours. Finally located in the unlit back wall of the courtyard grounds, Ben and I decided that we just weren't comfortable being so far away from everyone else. We got lucky and they exchanged our room with one that was front and center and had a working AC unit. Im still not sure if we had bugs or not because we slept with all the lights on!
We were prepared another authentic meal but this time at a Kasbar. Once the opulent residence of the village chief, it is now a traditional Moroccan restaurant. The open courtyard with red carpeted floors and white linen tables was our dining room where we were served under tents and the stars while enjoying the sound and sights of Moroccan musicians and dancers. The meal consisted of a tomato based bean soup, a sweet AND savory pastry of chicken and cinnamon (interesting), fresh fruit and all the bread you could eat. Exhausted, we returned to our hotel (eew!) and caught a few minutes of wifi before hitting the hay.
The next day we hit the road again. We stopped at a small shop where we were encouraged to by scarves for our camel trek. Bins and racks overflowing covered in colorful sheer cotton scarves made the decision to purchase one very enticing. They taught us the traditional head wrap process guaranteed to keep the sand out. Everyone was giddy about the whole thing and consulted each other on just the right color and style of wrap. This, of course, was right up Ben's alley. He chose a light blue scarf to match the t-shirt he had on and began the routine of tying and untying his scarf. Visibly frustrated, several people came to his rescue but once they turned around, Ben would pull it off of his head with utter dissatisfaction. It was the longee of Myanmar all over again! I had to walk away.
Just outside Ouarzazat, we reached the Riad Oasis, the biggest oasis in Morocco at approximately 20 kilometers wide. A massive plain of green in a valley surrounded by harsh chiseled mountainsides painted with horizontal stripes of black and gold stone. It was filled with thick palm trees, dense and lush vegetation, large green plants with pink flowers like an oleander and cacti to remind you that you are in the desert.
A few more hours down the road, we lunched in the city of Zagora. We were taken to another traditional Moroccan restaurant and fed foods from tangines along with baskets of bread. I guess that's the big cooking method here and it works great. Everything was delicious but I still wasn't bowled over. Enough with all the bread! Where the heck was the couscous?!
The last hour and a half drive was through the other side of the High Atlas. It was the desert side called The Anti Atlas. The scenery was so different here. Much more dry, rocky and barren. The living is harder here on this side of the Atlas. They cannot grow crops and they cannot raise sheep or goats. They do sell a lot of pottery though.
We stopped in one of the Berber villages that we'd been passing all the while through the mountains. The Berber people are the original nomads of Morocco. They moved from place to place all throughout the year. After realizing that they were returning to certain places at the same time each year for one reason or another, they decided to build villages and set up residence. They constructed their homes out of a mud and straw mixture. Their houses were rectangular buildings that shared walls with the other homes which then resulted in a village. It is quite a thing to see these settlements from a distance. Since they are made of the earth, they are almost invisible, blending into the desert mountainsides. I felt like we were on the set of Star Wars (not certain of the episode) where young Anikan first meets Quigon Jin.
The people we visited in this village made their living from making and selling pottery. It is an amazing process to watch and everyone from the littlest child makes something from clay. They have turntables set up in a few small dark huts where they create their pieces. Interestingly, the seat and foot pedal is placed in a hole about 3 feet wide and the table is at ground level. So to work the table, the young man explaining the process to us, lowered himself down into the hole. Only his torso above ground, he grabbed some clay and began turning. When we were satisfied, we thanked him graciously and headed out. "You pay money?" He wanted payment as an admission fee to watch him turn the clay. They wanted money for everything including taking pictures of them. I had nothing on me and went to find Chris. He was out by the stoves where they were firing the handmade pottery. A very primitive hole in the ground with a constant fire, they rotated out new pottery with palettes of oven hardened earthenware. I found Jeremy bartering with one of the kids who was about 5 years old. He wanted money for a small clay creature he'd made (looked like a dog but I really couldn't tell). Apparently, Jeremy was interested in the little sculpture and traded him a half-full bottle of water for the "dog". The boy took the deal and ran! Jeremy informed me that we were not to give these people money. Handouts only encouraged their life of poverty. They were not educated people and did not have the intention at all to do better for their children. They merely existed until they did not anymore.
The people who were ambitious, had a store for their clay products. We gladly dropped a few dirhams here ; ) Jeremy and Ben were even convince to try a henna tattoo that many of the girls were getting. They both manned up but uninspired by the dainty designs the girls chose, they both asked the tattoo artist to write their names in Arabic on the inside of their forearms. Jeremy even added a scorpion and Ben got a camel. Great artistry, the boys were satisfied with their decision. As we walked to the bus, Ben proudly showed off his new tattoo to our tour guide, Abduhla. He held Ben's arm and said, "Ah!...BILL!" I wish you could have seen Ben's face! A typo for a tattoo!
We were prepared another authentic meal but this time at a Kasbar. Once the opulent residence of the village chief, it is now a traditional Moroccan restaurant. The open courtyard with red carpeted floors and white linen tables was our dining room where we were served under tents and the stars while enjoying the sound and sights of Moroccan musicians and dancers. The meal consisted of a tomato based bean soup, a sweet AND savory pastry of chicken and cinnamon (interesting), fresh fruit and all the bread you could eat. Exhausted, we returned to our hotel (eew!) and caught a few minutes of wifi before hitting the hay.
The next day we hit the road again. We stopped at a small shop where we were encouraged to by scarves for our camel trek. Bins and racks overflowing covered in colorful sheer cotton scarves made the decision to purchase one very enticing. They taught us the traditional head wrap process guaranteed to keep the sand out. Everyone was giddy about the whole thing and consulted each other on just the right color and style of wrap. This, of course, was right up Ben's alley. He chose a light blue scarf to match the t-shirt he had on and began the routine of tying and untying his scarf. Visibly frustrated, several people came to his rescue but once they turned around, Ben would pull it off of his head with utter dissatisfaction. It was the longee of Myanmar all over again! I had to walk away.
Just outside Ouarzazat, we reached the Riad Oasis, the biggest oasis in Morocco at approximately 20 kilometers wide. A massive plain of green in a valley surrounded by harsh chiseled mountainsides painted with horizontal stripes of black and gold stone. It was filled with thick palm trees, dense and lush vegetation, large green plants with pink flowers like an oleander and cacti to remind you that you are in the desert.
A few more hours down the road, we lunched in the city of Zagora. We were taken to another traditional Moroccan restaurant and fed foods from tangines along with baskets of bread. I guess that's the big cooking method here and it works great. Everything was delicious but I still wasn't bowled over. Enough with all the bread! Where the heck was the couscous?!
The last hour and a half drive was through the other side of the High Atlas. It was the desert side called The Anti Atlas. The scenery was so different here. Much more dry, rocky and barren. The living is harder here on this side of the Atlas. They cannot grow crops and they cannot raise sheep or goats. They do sell a lot of pottery though.
We stopped in one of the Berber villages that we'd been passing all the while through the mountains. The Berber people are the original nomads of Morocco. They moved from place to place all throughout the year. After realizing that they were returning to certain places at the same time each year for one reason or another, they decided to build villages and set up residence. They constructed their homes out of a mud and straw mixture. Their houses were rectangular buildings that shared walls with the other homes which then resulted in a village. It is quite a thing to see these settlements from a distance. Since they are made of the earth, they are almost invisible, blending into the desert mountainsides. I felt like we were on the set of Star Wars (not certain of the episode) where young Anikan first meets Quigon Jin.
The people we visited in this village made their living from making and selling pottery. It is an amazing process to watch and everyone from the littlest child makes something from clay. They have turntables set up in a few small dark huts where they create their pieces. Interestingly, the seat and foot pedal is placed in a hole about 3 feet wide and the table is at ground level. So to work the table, the young man explaining the process to us, lowered himself down into the hole. Only his torso above ground, he grabbed some clay and began turning. When we were satisfied, we thanked him graciously and headed out. "You pay money?" He wanted payment as an admission fee to watch him turn the clay. They wanted money for everything including taking pictures of them. I had nothing on me and went to find Chris. He was out by the stoves where they were firing the handmade pottery. A very primitive hole in the ground with a constant fire, they rotated out new pottery with palettes of oven hardened earthenware. I found Jeremy bartering with one of the kids who was about 5 years old. He wanted money for a small clay creature he'd made (looked like a dog but I really couldn't tell). Apparently, Jeremy was interested in the little sculpture and traded him a half-full bottle of water for the "dog". The boy took the deal and ran! Jeremy informed me that we were not to give these people money. Handouts only encouraged their life of poverty. They were not educated people and did not have the intention at all to do better for their children. They merely existed until they did not anymore.
The people who were ambitious, had a store for their clay products. We gladly dropped a few dirhams here ; ) Jeremy and Ben were even convince to try a henna tattoo that many of the girls were getting. They both manned up but uninspired by the dainty designs the girls chose, they both asked the tattoo artist to write their names in Arabic on the inside of their forearms. Jeremy even added a scorpion and Ben got a camel. Great artistry, the boys were satisfied with their decision. As we walked to the bus, Ben proudly showed off his new tattoo to our tour guide, Abduhla. He held Ben's arm and said, "Ah!...BILL!" I wish you could have seen Ben's face! A typo for a tattoo!
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Alumni Ball
Tuesday was our Around The World Alumni Ball. It was a chance for all of us, faculty, staff, Life-Long Learners and students to get together to celebrate the finale of our voyage together.
Earlier in the voyage, on our way to Cape Town, the alumni association held a fundraising auction. After attending many an auction at the boys' school back home, I had a plan. I found the item I wanted just as they finished laying out the sheets for the silent auction. The opening bid was $50 but I kept silent. I went to happy hour as the auction continued. I knew my limit and kept calm. Chris and I also attended a parents reception that night hosted by the executive dean and his wife. While we enjoyed cocktails and ordeurves, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, I grew confident of my scheme. I timed it perfectly and with 5 minutes left in the auction, I went downstairs and positioned myself in front of the table which displayed my auction item. With pen in hand, I waited patiently and calmly and socialized with all the other people congregating in the area. I glanced at the current bid...well under my limit. I showed no interest on my face. Then they began the countdown...5...whipped out my pen...4...wrote in bid...3...scratched in my signature...2...someone is yelling"No! No! behind me...1...cabin number...0...paper collected from the table!
I won my auction item! The Staff Captain's table for 12 at the alumni ball! My first thought was to invite our extended family and use that night as our final family dinner. But I wasn't expecting any of them to accept just because I figured they would have already had plans to eat with friends. To my surprise, all but 2 accepted my invitation. It was going to be a great evening!
I should have spent the day packing but I decided it was more important to spend time with my friends that I'd made on the ship. We all did. Jeremy went his way, Chris his own and Ben another. It was a difficult thing thinking that we probably will not see most of these people again. But I'd heard one of the speakers at the convocation for the students that you can determine how important something is to you by the effort you put into it. Important...you'll find a way. Not important...you'll find excuses. Brilliant. I set out to collect contact info.
We gathered at the pool for a family portrait just before our dinner with the Staff Captain. It could not have been a better night. Our ship making its way through the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was setting, there was excitement in the air and a comfortable playfulness often found as a family comes together.
Afterward, sat with Chris and I on either side of the Staff Captain at his table. His name is Kosta. He is from Greece. A big man who can command attention when he needs to but who can also turn on his big teddy bear charm. We had a wonderful time. Everyone was dressed in their very best, the conversation engaging, the wine was flowing, and our 5 course meal was so much better than the cafeteria meals we'd all grown tired of ; )
Afterward, there was dancing in the Union. I lost all the boys at that point but joined some of the students for a few songs. I went back to the cabin to find Ben laying down with a slight fever. I gave him some Tylenol and suggested he go to sleep. It was late anyway. But the dancing in the union was on the closed circuit TV and the more he watched, the more he felt he was missing out. So, Chris took him to enjoy it with his friends for a short while. As soon as he got to the union, he was whisked away by some students headed to the dance floor. He danced with the girls and as Chris readied his camera, he looked up and Ben was gone. We later found out from Ben that he'd been "crowd surfing"! The union was so packed with dancing 20-something year olds and when they saw Ben, they picked him up and passed them around the room over their heads!
But once around the room, Ben headed back to the cabin for the rest of the night. I was disappointed for him that he was not feeling well during the biggest get-together of the voyage. It's the college students that made life on ship so special for us and why the end of the voyage is difficult to accept. But in the end, the heartache of leaving is worth all of the new friendships which caused it.
Earlier in the voyage, on our way to Cape Town, the alumni association held a fundraising auction. After attending many an auction at the boys' school back home, I had a plan. I found the item I wanted just as they finished laying out the sheets for the silent auction. The opening bid was $50 but I kept silent. I went to happy hour as the auction continued. I knew my limit and kept calm. Chris and I also attended a parents reception that night hosted by the executive dean and his wife. While we enjoyed cocktails and ordeurves, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, I grew confident of my scheme. I timed it perfectly and with 5 minutes left in the auction, I went downstairs and positioned myself in front of the table which displayed my auction item. With pen in hand, I waited patiently and calmly and socialized with all the other people congregating in the area. I glanced at the current bid...well under my limit. I showed no interest on my face. Then they began the countdown...5...whipped out my pen...4...wrote in bid...3...scratched in my signature...2...someone is yelling"No! No! behind me...1...cabin number...0...paper collected from the table!
I won my auction item! The Staff Captain's table for 12 at the alumni ball! My first thought was to invite our extended family and use that night as our final family dinner. But I wasn't expecting any of them to accept just because I figured they would have already had plans to eat with friends. To my surprise, all but 2 accepted my invitation. It was going to be a great evening!
I should have spent the day packing but I decided it was more important to spend time with my friends that I'd made on the ship. We all did. Jeremy went his way, Chris his own and Ben another. It was a difficult thing thinking that we probably will not see most of these people again. But I'd heard one of the speakers at the convocation for the students that you can determine how important something is to you by the effort you put into it. Important...you'll find a way. Not important...you'll find excuses. Brilliant. I set out to collect contact info.
We gathered at the pool for a family portrait just before our dinner with the Staff Captain. It could not have been a better night. Our ship making its way through the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was setting, there was excitement in the air and a comfortable playfulness often found as a family comes together.
Afterward, sat with Chris and I on either side of the Staff Captain at his table. His name is Kosta. He is from Greece. A big man who can command attention when he needs to but who can also turn on his big teddy bear charm. We had a wonderful time. Everyone was dressed in their very best, the conversation engaging, the wine was flowing, and our 5 course meal was so much better than the cafeteria meals we'd all grown tired of ; )
Afterward, there was dancing in the Union. I lost all the boys at that point but joined some of the students for a few songs. I went back to the cabin to find Ben laying down with a slight fever. I gave him some Tylenol and suggested he go to sleep. It was late anyway. But the dancing in the union was on the closed circuit TV and the more he watched, the more he felt he was missing out. So, Chris took him to enjoy it with his friends for a short while. As soon as he got to the union, he was whisked away by some students headed to the dance floor. He danced with the girls and as Chris readied his camera, he looked up and Ben was gone. We later found out from Ben that he'd been "crowd surfing"! The union was so packed with dancing 20-something year olds and when they saw Ben, they picked him up and passed them around the room over their heads!
But once around the room, Ben headed back to the cabin for the rest of the night. I was disappointed for him that he was not feeling well during the biggest get-together of the voyage. It's the college students that made life on ship so special for us and why the end of the voyage is difficult to accept. But in the end, the heartache of leaving is worth all of the new friendships which caused it.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Casablanca/Ourzazat, Morocco - The Trek To The Trek; Part 1
We we're off the ship relatively early at this port regardless of the face-to-face inspection with immigration. All went smoothly and they shuffled all 900 of us through and onto our tour buses in a couple of hours.
We were going on a camel trek through the Sahara Desert. I couldn't have been more excited about the adventure! However, we did have a LONG bus ride ahead of us to get there. It was going to take about a day and a half. I wasn't looking forward the bus trek to the camel trek...
Casablanca is a city from what I could tell from my bus window. Different only by culture, it had every creature comfort you would need. I did hear that some people were headed to "Rick's Place"...the hangout in the movie "Casablanca". I was jealous for about a minute thinking that we would not have time to visit but the. I was told that it was build after the movie's success. Ok, just another Hard Rock , in my opinion.
Transportation in the city has the widest variety I've seen yet. Cars, busses, trains, mortocycles, scooters, bicycles, horse-drawn carriage or side saddle on a mule. Take your pick!
Through Casablanca and to Marrakech, "land of the good". It was here that the nomads of Morocco set their sites as they caravan end across the dry and desolate Sahara desert, through the rugged terrains of the High Atlas mountain range to settle. The plains where the ground was fertile and the living was good. Medina, The Old City, also known as "the chatter of the city" because of its lively atmosphere, was built on the 10th century and remains the hub of this cosmopolitan city.
We had already driven a good 4 hours so I thought I might pass some of the time napping. I settled in as comfortably as I could. I stared out the window to lull myself to sleep but once we entered the climb to the top of The High Atlas, all bets were off. It is probably the most unbelievable mountain range I had ever driven through.
Just outside Marrakech, we crossed a plain and you could immediately see the difference in landscape. The earth was dryer and the vegetation much more space than in Marrakech. As we ascended into the rocky red clay mountain range, the environment became increasingly barren. But the settlers here terraced the hillsides which produce lush green grasses and yellow flowers. The main crops grown here are barley and wheat. Further up the mountain, the terrain becomes even more different. Signs of possible falling boulders dot our path. The red clay is always present but is now coupled with layer upon layer of golden stone, so much that the mountain face reminds me of a well-constructed baklava. Here, the residence grow olives trees, apricots, poppies, thyme, mushrooms, almonds, argon trees, lavender, and birch trees. Switchback after switchback, the mountain range then becomes smooth. These mountain peaks look as if they were poured here. Overlapping mounds of dark greenish-brown soil although barren, safeguard the dense vegetation in their valleys of tiered crop lands. Shepherds and their flocks can be seen throughout the mountain sides, wandering and searching for a place to graze. And always in the distance, the snow-capped mountains reaching 14000 feet.
Hours later, we reached our lunch destination, an authentic Moroccan restaurant. We had learned that the main cultural influences of this country are Berber (originals to morocco), Arabic and French. My palate was looking forward to this cuisine! The restaurant was situated on the mountainside where the view was spectacular of the valley below. We were greeted by a drum band, singers and dancers all dressed in traditional costume to make the complete. We ate a fresh salad and an tangine dish made of eggs. Dessert was a fruit salad. I have to hand it to Chris. The 3 main foods he refuses to eat are raw tomatoes, olives and eggs. All were present throughout the meal and he survived it! It was delicious, but I set my expectations higher.
We continued our drive. Done with the High Atlas, we were now decidedly in drier weather and on to conquer the Anti Atlas - the desert side of this mountain range. Jagged windswept mountainsides. Horizontal grooves in the red clay walls. Here it was much more rocky and jagged. The boulders were bigger and more abundant. Tight switchbacks through the chiseled stone and clay as we climbed higher. The became air was cooler but drier and dustier. But in the distance...an Oasis! A densely covered area of grasses, palm trees and pink blossomed plants. The contrast of the red barren mountains and the green healthy vegetation of the oasis is truly unremarkable. We passed several oasis's throughout our tour of The Anti Atlas which are decidedly a sight for sore eyes!
We reached our destination, Ouarzazat, the quiet city and we were taken to our resting stop for the night, The Hotel Palmarie.
To Be Continued...
We were going on a camel trek through the Sahara Desert. I couldn't have been more excited about the adventure! However, we did have a LONG bus ride ahead of us to get there. It was going to take about a day and a half. I wasn't looking forward the bus trek to the camel trek...
Casablanca is a city from what I could tell from my bus window. Different only by culture, it had every creature comfort you would need. I did hear that some people were headed to "Rick's Place"...the hangout in the movie "Casablanca". I was jealous for about a minute thinking that we would not have time to visit but the. I was told that it was build after the movie's success. Ok, just another Hard Rock , in my opinion.
Transportation in the city has the widest variety I've seen yet. Cars, busses, trains, mortocycles, scooters, bicycles, horse-drawn carriage or side saddle on a mule. Take your pick!
Through Casablanca and to Marrakech, "land of the good". It was here that the nomads of Morocco set their sites as they caravan end across the dry and desolate Sahara desert, through the rugged terrains of the High Atlas mountain range to settle. The plains where the ground was fertile and the living was good. Medina, The Old City, also known as "the chatter of the city" because of its lively atmosphere, was built on the 10th century and remains the hub of this cosmopolitan city.
We had already driven a good 4 hours so I thought I might pass some of the time napping. I settled in as comfortably as I could. I stared out the window to lull myself to sleep but once we entered the climb to the top of The High Atlas, all bets were off. It is probably the most unbelievable mountain range I had ever driven through.
Just outside Marrakech, we crossed a plain and you could immediately see the difference in landscape. The earth was dryer and the vegetation much more space than in Marrakech. As we ascended into the rocky red clay mountain range, the environment became increasingly barren. But the settlers here terraced the hillsides which produce lush green grasses and yellow flowers. The main crops grown here are barley and wheat. Further up the mountain, the terrain becomes even more different. Signs of possible falling boulders dot our path. The red clay is always present but is now coupled with layer upon layer of golden stone, so much that the mountain face reminds me of a well-constructed baklava. Here, the residence grow olives trees, apricots, poppies, thyme, mushrooms, almonds, argon trees, lavender, and birch trees. Switchback after switchback, the mountain range then becomes smooth. These mountain peaks look as if they were poured here. Overlapping mounds of dark greenish-brown soil although barren, safeguard the dense vegetation in their valleys of tiered crop lands. Shepherds and their flocks can be seen throughout the mountain sides, wandering and searching for a place to graze. And always in the distance, the snow-capped mountains reaching 14000 feet.
Hours later, we reached our lunch destination, an authentic Moroccan restaurant. We had learned that the main cultural influences of this country are Berber (originals to morocco), Arabic and French. My palate was looking forward to this cuisine! The restaurant was situated on the mountainside where the view was spectacular of the valley below. We were greeted by a drum band, singers and dancers all dressed in traditional costume to make the complete. We ate a fresh salad and an tangine dish made of eggs. Dessert was a fruit salad. I have to hand it to Chris. The 3 main foods he refuses to eat are raw tomatoes, olives and eggs. All were present throughout the meal and he survived it! It was delicious, but I set my expectations higher.
We continued our drive. Done with the High Atlas, we were now decidedly in drier weather and on to conquer the Anti Atlas - the desert side of this mountain range. Jagged windswept mountainsides. Horizontal grooves in the red clay walls. Here it was much more rocky and jagged. The boulders were bigger and more abundant. Tight switchbacks through the chiseled stone and clay as we climbed higher. The became air was cooler but drier and dustier. But in the distance...an Oasis! A densely covered area of grasses, palm trees and pink blossomed plants. The contrast of the red barren mountains and the green healthy vegetation of the oasis is truly unremarkable. We passed several oasis's throughout our tour of The Anti Atlas which are decidedly a sight for sore eyes!
We reached our destination, Ouarzazat, the quiet city and we were taken to our resting stop for the night, The Hotel Palmarie.
To Be Continued...
Friday, April 19, 2013
Finals Week
This week was the first week of finals. Tell me if any of this rings a bell: cramming, worrying, all-nighters, black coffee, ponytails, pajamas, glasses instead of contacts, sniffles & coughs, just making the deadline, professor conferences and basic irritability. Made me so happy to have passed on taking classes ; )
We decided to have a little study break for our extended family of 7. We invited them all up to deck 7 for what we thought would be a small surprise. When we told each if them that we had arranged for a Taco dinner by the pool, you would have thought we'd just handed each of them a million dollars. I forgot how much the simple things matter to kids under academic stress ; ) To our surprise, they inhaled every morsel of food in a matter of minutes. When the ice cream cake came out, they may as well have cried tears of joy. They were so grateful making me feel guilty that we'd simply purchased the meal instead of made it with our own hands ; )
And if they weren't busy enough, the SAS Talent Show was the day before. None of our family was in the show but it was definitely something you wanted to plan on attending. I think there were 20 acts all together ranging from groups to individuals, singing, dancing, hula hopping, poetry reciting, pianos, guitars, violins, HARPS, and a saxophone. Chinese and Indian traditional dances as well as hip-hop and ballroom. Theater is right up my alley and I was thoroughly impressed!
And if all that wasn't enough of a distraction, they held the first ever SAS Drag Show. Ok...this is where the reigns got pulled in a bit for the Smith Boys. Fortunately, the planning committee was sensitive to the fact that young children were on the ship who would want to see this show. We've been traveling together for almost 4 months now and if you don't know everyone on the ship, you know most of the people in the ship. We are all friends for the most part and interact with each other on a daily basis whether it is to sit down at a meal, attend classes, pass each other in the hall, workout side by side on the treadmills, watch a movie, play cards, or a pickup dodgeball game. So they provided a "family friendly" first act. And that was probably enough. Ben sat next to me and asked about 127 very valid questions. I answered them as best I could under the circumstances. After only 2 numbers, he was done and went to find someone who might want to play ping pong ; ) Chris and I planned to have a family meeting prior to our re-entry into normal life but the topic of Drag Show wasn't on the original agenda. It is now and it's pretty close to the top ; )
So while their college friends are busy this week studying, the little kids have been causing a raucous entertaining themselves. Jeremy and Ben hangout with a handful of kids their age on a consistent basis. Jordi, Julia, Sabrina, Imani and Jack. They started playing pranks on each other a few days ago and got really riled up about it. I caught Ben one day in a hurry because they'd somehow gotten access to the girls' cabin. I slowed him down and said, "Do not hurt anyone, do not break anything, do not make anyone cry." He threw back, "We won't!" and bolted down the hallway.
They rearranged their cabin one day, removed all their pictures and things that decorated their walls and put them on the ceiling on another day. They've painted the toilet seat with something they can't remember and put toothpaste in shampoo bottles. All were successful in thoroughly annoying the girls. Mission accomplished. Ben came to my room one night just as I'd fallen asleep to tell me that he'd brushed his teeth and now his mouth felt numb. "Did your toothpaste taste funny? I think they just got you back." Convinced that it didn't taste different or just refusing to believe he'd fallen for a girl's prank, he went to bed saying he felt fine.
The next day at lunch, Jeremy told me that he spit out the toothpaste because hit tasted different to him right away. He fouls out that the girls had put Ambesol in their toothpaste! ; ) He one upped them by telling them he had an allergic reaction and had to spend the night in the ship's clinic. He had them going until Ben ratted him out. Jeremy's plan, foiled by his own team mate! But somehow, the news got to Imani who was not at the original discussion and did not hear Ben's reveal. I had gotten a call from her mom, Faith, earlier asking if I could talk with her. I had to put her off for an hour as I was just rushing off to do something for Jeremy. When I caught up with her later on that day, she told me that everything was ok, over and done with. I thought I'd missed out on helping her with a problem and felt bad that I couldn't help her when she called. She said she called because she'd found Imani crying in her cabin, upset that the girls' prank had gone too far and caused Jeremy a visit to the clinic! She told me that she let Imani "have it" and the pranks were to stop. OMG...I felt so bad for Imani. Anyway, Faith was so understanding. She'd already heard that Jeremy's prank became a full on misunderstanding. But we decided there and then on a Cease Prank for the remainder of the voyage ; )
We are in Morocco today, on a bus headed to the Sahara Desert to ride a camel. More later.
We decided to have a little study break for our extended family of 7. We invited them all up to deck 7 for what we thought would be a small surprise. When we told each if them that we had arranged for a Taco dinner by the pool, you would have thought we'd just handed each of them a million dollars. I forgot how much the simple things matter to kids under academic stress ; ) To our surprise, they inhaled every morsel of food in a matter of minutes. When the ice cream cake came out, they may as well have cried tears of joy. They were so grateful making me feel guilty that we'd simply purchased the meal instead of made it with our own hands ; )
And if they weren't busy enough, the SAS Talent Show was the day before. None of our family was in the show but it was definitely something you wanted to plan on attending. I think there were 20 acts all together ranging from groups to individuals, singing, dancing, hula hopping, poetry reciting, pianos, guitars, violins, HARPS, and a saxophone. Chinese and Indian traditional dances as well as hip-hop and ballroom. Theater is right up my alley and I was thoroughly impressed!
And if all that wasn't enough of a distraction, they held the first ever SAS Drag Show. Ok...this is where the reigns got pulled in a bit for the Smith Boys. Fortunately, the planning committee was sensitive to the fact that young children were on the ship who would want to see this show. We've been traveling together for almost 4 months now and if you don't know everyone on the ship, you know most of the people in the ship. We are all friends for the most part and interact with each other on a daily basis whether it is to sit down at a meal, attend classes, pass each other in the hall, workout side by side on the treadmills, watch a movie, play cards, or a pickup dodgeball game. So they provided a "family friendly" first act. And that was probably enough. Ben sat next to me and asked about 127 very valid questions. I answered them as best I could under the circumstances. After only 2 numbers, he was done and went to find someone who might want to play ping pong ; ) Chris and I planned to have a family meeting prior to our re-entry into normal life but the topic of Drag Show wasn't on the original agenda. It is now and it's pretty close to the top ; )
So while their college friends are busy this week studying, the little kids have been causing a raucous entertaining themselves. Jeremy and Ben hangout with a handful of kids their age on a consistent basis. Jordi, Julia, Sabrina, Imani and Jack. They started playing pranks on each other a few days ago and got really riled up about it. I caught Ben one day in a hurry because they'd somehow gotten access to the girls' cabin. I slowed him down and said, "Do not hurt anyone, do not break anything, do not make anyone cry." He threw back, "We won't!" and bolted down the hallway.
They rearranged their cabin one day, removed all their pictures and things that decorated their walls and put them on the ceiling on another day. They've painted the toilet seat with something they can't remember and put toothpaste in shampoo bottles. All were successful in thoroughly annoying the girls. Mission accomplished. Ben came to my room one night just as I'd fallen asleep to tell me that he'd brushed his teeth and now his mouth felt numb. "Did your toothpaste taste funny? I think they just got you back." Convinced that it didn't taste different or just refusing to believe he'd fallen for a girl's prank, he went to bed saying he felt fine.
The next day at lunch, Jeremy told me that he spit out the toothpaste because hit tasted different to him right away. He fouls out that the girls had put Ambesol in their toothpaste! ; ) He one upped them by telling them he had an allergic reaction and had to spend the night in the ship's clinic. He had them going until Ben ratted him out. Jeremy's plan, foiled by his own team mate! But somehow, the news got to Imani who was not at the original discussion and did not hear Ben's reveal. I had gotten a call from her mom, Faith, earlier asking if I could talk with her. I had to put her off for an hour as I was just rushing off to do something for Jeremy. When I caught up with her later on that day, she told me that everything was ok, over and done with. I thought I'd missed out on helping her with a problem and felt bad that I couldn't help her when she called. She said she called because she'd found Imani crying in her cabin, upset that the girls' prank had gone too far and caused Jeremy a visit to the clinic! She told me that she let Imani "have it" and the pranks were to stop. OMG...I felt so bad for Imani. Anyway, Faith was so understanding. She'd already heard that Jeremy's prank became a full on misunderstanding. But we decided there and then on a Cease Prank for the remainder of the voyage ; )
We are in Morocco today, on a bus headed to the Sahara Desert to ride a camel. More later.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
A Stop In Gambia
We pulled over in Gambia on Tuesday for refueling and a medical supply pick-up of several rabies vaccinations.
The fuel was scheduled. The vaccines were not.
From what I could gather, some of the students made a visit to a local monkey reserve while we were in Ghana. At the pre-port meeting the warning was "Do Not Touch The Monkeys". As easy as that sounds, I guess the temptation was far too great.
We came back to ship to hear of several of our friends recount their experiences with the monkeys that were "so cute!" ; ) Some had a slight lapse in judgement,, hand-fed to monkeys, were climbed on by the monkeys and suffered slight to minor scratches. According to the shipboard doc, once you experience symptoms of rabies, it's too late and you are doomed. The number of rabies vaccinations the ship is required to carry for the 900 passengers is a whopping ONE.
So, fortunately, the medical team was able to scramble quickly enough to have a supply delivered to the ship in Gambia.
The fuel was scheduled. The vaccines were not.
From what I could gather, some of the students made a visit to a local monkey reserve while we were in Ghana. At the pre-port meeting the warning was "Do Not Touch The Monkeys". As easy as that sounds, I guess the temptation was far too great.
We came back to ship to hear of several of our friends recount their experiences with the monkeys that were "so cute!" ; ) Some had a slight lapse in judgement,, hand-fed to monkeys, were climbed on by the monkeys and suffered slight to minor scratches. According to the shipboard doc, once you experience symptoms of rabies, it's too late and you are doomed. The number of rabies vaccinations the ship is required to carry for the 900 passengers is a whopping ONE.
So, fortunately, the medical team was able to scramble quickly enough to have a supply delivered to the ship in Gambia.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Last Days In Tema
Jeremy I decided to try and get on the SAS service trip to The City of Refuge. Service trips, especially to schools and orphanages, are very popular programs which fill up fast. So, I felt very fortunate to have learned the night before that 2 tickets were turned in because the professor who bought them had a schedule conflict.
The bus to the orphanage boarded at 8 am so Jeremy and I made our way out early to claim the last 2 spots. As luck would have it, the tour company sent a larger bus than originally planned. So a quick call was made and the orphanage agreed to take the 2 of us as well as another 13 students who woke up early hoping to get a seat. Unfortunately, there was no way to get word to Chris and Ben to join us.
It was a short ride just to the edge of Tema where the orphanage is situated. The City of Refuge was built on 20 acres of donated land. Just on the other side of 3 small mountains, which serve as a border to their property, is an army base. Fortunately for the orphanage, this makes for easy access to running water, electricity and Internet unlike much of rural Accra.
We rolled up and were greeted by Stacey (from the US) and her husband John (from Nigeria). They are the founders of this orphanage who moved to Ghana to live full-time just 3 years ago. They met on a mission trip here and realized they shared a vision of building an orphanage here. They married, had 3 children in the US and began their mission in Ghana in 2006. Shortly after it was established, they learned of the child slavery epidemic in the Volta region of Ghana. They found in that, their true calling.
They told us stories about these children and how they are obtained. The Volta region is the area in Ghana where Lake Volta is located. It is the 2nd largest man-made lake in the world and its main purpose is to provide electricity to Ghana. But it has also become a major source for the fishing industry. Lake Volta was not excavated when it was made. They simply flooded this low lying land. So there are many trees just beneath the water which make dragging fishing nets a tedious chore.
The single-mom households have become prey to the fishermen needing help on their boats. They offer the mother, who is often struggling to make ends meet, a price for a child or two in exchange for teaching them the trade. The offer is enticing enough that several thousand children have been sold into this business. But the intention is not ever to return them to the families. It is only to use them for their own gain.
Small children are the prize for these fisherman. As they drag their net through the watery forest, they often get tangled in the tree branches and need to be released. Little fingers are more adept at managing this task. The children are ordered into the water to undo the mess. But these children can't swim. The terror that goes through their minds is unbearable to imagine. If they refuse to get in the water, they are picked up and thrown in or beaten with the wooden oar until they succumb.
Stacey and John have made it their mission to rescue these children. They have had 145 success stories but there are thousand more to try. It's overwhelming.
We ate lunch with the children and enjoyed recess afterward. One of our students from the ship brought a football and he and Jeremy tried to teach the kids some fundamentals of American football like how to throw the perfect spiral. We left the ball behind because it will surely take some practice to perfect the pass but they quickly picked up the tackling aspect of the game ; )
Afterward, the children went back to classes and we were put to work...moving dirt, scrubbing walls, painting their lunchroom, organizing the library, assisting in the classrooms and painting the basketball court. There could not have been a better way to spend a day in Ghana. As heart-wrenching as the stories are that go along with these service trips, I gladly bring my boys so that they can witness, in person, both negative and positive realities in this world that illustrate the power of humanity.
On our last day in Ghana, we joined a group for a half a day and learned about Ghanian music, song and dance. On a patio just off the beach, it was a great way to end our emotional journey through this country. Music is an integral part of the culture. You can not separate one from the other. It is meant to lift your spirits and help you appreciate the joys in every aspect of life. Happiness comes from within. It is no one's obligation to bring you joy other than you.
I like it.
The bus to the orphanage boarded at 8 am so Jeremy and I made our way out early to claim the last 2 spots. As luck would have it, the tour company sent a larger bus than originally planned. So a quick call was made and the orphanage agreed to take the 2 of us as well as another 13 students who woke up early hoping to get a seat. Unfortunately, there was no way to get word to Chris and Ben to join us.
It was a short ride just to the edge of Tema where the orphanage is situated. The City of Refuge was built on 20 acres of donated land. Just on the other side of 3 small mountains, which serve as a border to their property, is an army base. Fortunately for the orphanage, this makes for easy access to running water, electricity and Internet unlike much of rural Accra.
We rolled up and were greeted by Stacey (from the US) and her husband John (from Nigeria). They are the founders of this orphanage who moved to Ghana to live full-time just 3 years ago. They met on a mission trip here and realized they shared a vision of building an orphanage here. They married, had 3 children in the US and began their mission in Ghana in 2006. Shortly after it was established, they learned of the child slavery epidemic in the Volta region of Ghana. They found in that, their true calling.
They told us stories about these children and how they are obtained. The Volta region is the area in Ghana where Lake Volta is located. It is the 2nd largest man-made lake in the world and its main purpose is to provide electricity to Ghana. But it has also become a major source for the fishing industry. Lake Volta was not excavated when it was made. They simply flooded this low lying land. So there are many trees just beneath the water which make dragging fishing nets a tedious chore.
The single-mom households have become prey to the fishermen needing help on their boats. They offer the mother, who is often struggling to make ends meet, a price for a child or two in exchange for teaching them the trade. The offer is enticing enough that several thousand children have been sold into this business. But the intention is not ever to return them to the families. It is only to use them for their own gain.
Small children are the prize for these fisherman. As they drag their net through the watery forest, they often get tangled in the tree branches and need to be released. Little fingers are more adept at managing this task. The children are ordered into the water to undo the mess. But these children can't swim. The terror that goes through their minds is unbearable to imagine. If they refuse to get in the water, they are picked up and thrown in or beaten with the wooden oar until they succumb.
Stacey and John have made it their mission to rescue these children. They have had 145 success stories but there are thousand more to try. It's overwhelming.
We ate lunch with the children and enjoyed recess afterward. One of our students from the ship brought a football and he and Jeremy tried to teach the kids some fundamentals of American football like how to throw the perfect spiral. We left the ball behind because it will surely take some practice to perfect the pass but they quickly picked up the tackling aspect of the game ; )
Afterward, the children went back to classes and we were put to work...moving dirt, scrubbing walls, painting their lunchroom, organizing the library, assisting in the classrooms and painting the basketball court. There could not have been a better way to spend a day in Ghana. As heart-wrenching as the stories are that go along with these service trips, I gladly bring my boys so that they can witness, in person, both negative and positive realities in this world that illustrate the power of humanity.
On our last day in Ghana, we joined a group for a half a day and learned about Ghanian music, song and dance. On a patio just off the beach, it was a great way to end our emotional journey through this country. Music is an integral part of the culture. You can not separate one from the other. It is meant to lift your spirits and help you appreciate the joys in every aspect of life. Happiness comes from within. It is no one's obligation to bring you joy other than you.
I like it.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Waking Up In Tema
I expected to wake up and look out my window to see that we had docked in Tema overnight. Instead, we were still a ways out and moving slowly through the water. Probably to shorten the duration of the holding pattern in which we were eventually placed.
We had a leisurely breakfast then to the gangway to get on our tour bus. We were greeted, just as in Takoradi, with merchants selling their goods. Strangely, they all looked familiar...they were the same guys! They had followed us to our next port. Talk about persistence!
We were taken to a nearby fisherman's village to learn their way of life. The severe conditions of this poverty stricken country is unimaginable. Dense communities of makeshift homes littered with garbage and human waste was a horrific eye opener. That saying about a picture and a thousand words may be true but actually being here you are rendered speechless. There are no words.
The village is called Teshie, a suburb of Accra, the Capitol. The people who live here are decedents of the original Ga inhabitants of Ghana. Here we saw fisherman on the shore of the Atlantic making their own nets and hand-carving their own wooden boats. They go out to sea for a week at a time under the scorching Ghana sun to catch as much as they can. Depending on how you rank in the fisherman community dictates how much of the catch you are allowed to keep as your own and eventually sell. Once back to shore and the catch is divided, it is the women's responsibility to take the fish to market to sell fresh that day. Whatever isn't sold is smoked in old metal oil drums and hopefully sold in that form. The whole village is run by the Chief Fisherman, an elected official who is a respected elder. That's all they do here. It is less than a meager existence. And a very difficult one to improve upon.
What lifted our spirits was a visit to the school this village has built for its children. They are sent to school so that they are able to leave the fishing village. It is the goal of the people here that their children do not follow in their footsteps.
Physically and emotionally exhausted from our tour, we returned to the ship and ran right into a merchant trying to sell us a customized bracelet with Jeremy's name on it. The scam is:
- YOU told me your name
- I made YOU a bracelet with YOUR name on it
- so YOU need to buy it.
No way!! These guys are so aggressive. They greet you with a smile and a handshake but they don't let go. They drag you into their stalls and say "Just have a look!" Then they try to block you in until you are forced to be rude and push your way out.
That night we went out with the boys Spanish tutor, Natalie and Mark and Marissa's family to a restaurant recommended by the hospitality desk. At most ports, a local tour company sets up shop on the ship to answer questions and give advice on the country we are visiting.
Tante Maria was a decent looking restaurant but we were the only customers and they seemed to have run out of a lot of items on the menu. Turns out, it is a more popular lunch spot than dinner. We all found authentic Ghanian food we agreed to try...red reds with fried plantains...banku with tilapia...and goat. With a mouthful of his goat entree, I asked Jeremy if he liked it. He turned slowly, having difficulty deciding what to do with what was in his mouth, he said, "I'm not sure yet." I passed on his offer to have a taste. Everything else that we ordered was pretty good. I don't think I'll ever have cravings for this cuisine but very glad we tried it and survived it!
We had a leisurely breakfast then to the gangway to get on our tour bus. We were greeted, just as in Takoradi, with merchants selling their goods. Strangely, they all looked familiar...they were the same guys! They had followed us to our next port. Talk about persistence!
We were taken to a nearby fisherman's village to learn their way of life. The severe conditions of this poverty stricken country is unimaginable. Dense communities of makeshift homes littered with garbage and human waste was a horrific eye opener. That saying about a picture and a thousand words may be true but actually being here you are rendered speechless. There are no words.
The village is called Teshie, a suburb of Accra, the Capitol. The people who live here are decedents of the original Ga inhabitants of Ghana. Here we saw fisherman on the shore of the Atlantic making their own nets and hand-carving their own wooden boats. They go out to sea for a week at a time under the scorching Ghana sun to catch as much as they can. Depending on how you rank in the fisherman community dictates how much of the catch you are allowed to keep as your own and eventually sell. Once back to shore and the catch is divided, it is the women's responsibility to take the fish to market to sell fresh that day. Whatever isn't sold is smoked in old metal oil drums and hopefully sold in that form. The whole village is run by the Chief Fisherman, an elected official who is a respected elder. That's all they do here. It is less than a meager existence. And a very difficult one to improve upon.
What lifted our spirits was a visit to the school this village has built for its children. They are sent to school so that they are able to leave the fishing village. It is the goal of the people here that their children do not follow in their footsteps.
Physically and emotionally exhausted from our tour, we returned to the ship and ran right into a merchant trying to sell us a customized bracelet with Jeremy's name on it. The scam is:
- YOU told me your name
- I made YOU a bracelet with YOUR name on it
- so YOU need to buy it.
No way!! These guys are so aggressive. They greet you with a smile and a handshake but they don't let go. They drag you into their stalls and say "Just have a look!" Then they try to block you in until you are forced to be rude and push your way out.
That night we went out with the boys Spanish tutor, Natalie and Mark and Marissa's family to a restaurant recommended by the hospitality desk. At most ports, a local tour company sets up shop on the ship to answer questions and give advice on the country we are visiting.
Tante Maria was a decent looking restaurant but we were the only customers and they seemed to have run out of a lot of items on the menu. Turns out, it is a more popular lunch spot than dinner. We all found authentic Ghanian food we agreed to try...red reds with fried plantains...banku with tilapia...and goat. With a mouthful of his goat entree, I asked Jeremy if he liked it. He turned slowly, having difficulty deciding what to do with what was in his mouth, he said, "I'm not sure yet." I passed on his offer to have a taste. Everything else that we ordered was pretty good. I don't think I'll ever have cravings for this cuisine but very glad we tried it and survived it!
The Next Day In Takoradi
We didn't have anything planned so we slept in and got some input from others on what to do.
We left the ship around noon and traveled with Shelly and Brendon, two students who hadn't made any plans either. The agenda we created included tips from Shelly, crew members and our Lost Planet guidebook.
We stepped off the ship and were quickly accosted by street vendors who had set up shop just outside the ship. I was in a good mood, well-rested and ready for a great day. Jeremy got tangled up in bargaining for a soccer jersey and I walked over to help. The vendors love handing you their merchandise and as a sales tactic, will not take it back until a price has been decided on. I heard Jeremy very politely decline all offers and said, "No Thanks". Of course, I was holding the jersey and the sales guy would not take it. I pretended to put them on the ground by his feet which totally offended him! Claiming that I was disrespecting him. I told him that he was the one lacking in manners as he would not accept "no" for an answer. Well...I got a loud earful! I placed the jersey on his shoulder and walked away. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed and it wasn't me!
We took the shuttle to the front of the port and walked about a mile to a pizza place for lunch. I know we should be eating the local food but pizza sounded good to all of us, plus Shelly had it the day before and highly recommended it. We passed goats and chickens in the road and had to keep mindful of the open sewers that line the streets as we dodged taxis weaving their way through pothole after pothole.
The restaurant overlooked the port and we had a good view of the MVExplorer below. The heat was stifling so we welcomed the cool ocean breeze that blew throughout the open-air restaurant and were happy as it helped to quickly dry our clothes damp with perspiration.
After we stuffed ourselves with authentic tasting American pizza, we headed out to the markets. Fortunately for us, Shelly had scoped out the central market and after her vivid description and my experience with the soccer jersey guy, we decided to stick to the smaller market just across the street.
We approached a hut which had many local paintings and wooden masks on display. Just as we arrived, out came a toddler about 2 years of age, smiling from ear to ear, dressed in a yellow shirt and pair of shorts, arms outstretched and yelling "Shelly!" They'd met the day before and obviously hit it off. Shelly's popularity garnered great bargains for us and new friendships with little Michael, Patricia (his mother) and his grandmother (the proprietor). All were wonderful people who were excited to learn about us and share their stories. We all exchanged email addresses and Facebook IDs. When we found wifi later that day and I saw that I had already received a friend request from Patricia ; )
After a pit stop at the ATM, we hailed a couple of cabs to go to a resort we had learned sold a day pass to their pool. We tried to send Brendan and Shelly off in the first cab but it didn't roll 3 feet before we noticed the flat tire. Luckily, the second cab that came along had room enough for all 6 of us if Jeremy and Brendan packed themselves in the back storage space, so that's what we did ; ) The hotel was only about 5 miles away and we covered about 2 of it before running out of gas. Stopped on an incline, the driver open the back and asked Brendan to pass him the milk jug next to him. It was about 2 cups worth of fuel. Of course the car still wouldn't start in the uphill position, so the driver opened the hood, sucked the gas up through fuel line took a mouthful and spit it into the appropriate compartment. I can't explain it in mechanical terms because I just don't know them. I can tell you however, that it absolutely disgusting! He tried to start the car, "click, click, click". So we decided that we needed to push the car to the top of the hill. Ben and I got lucky and were asked to hold the video cameras and everyone else pushed in the sweltering Gahanian sun : ) Another round of syphoning still did not do the trick and the boys hopped out for one last shove and a chance at roll starting. Success!
We rolled into the hotel. The beachfront we were anticipating was about a half mile away, the pool was green and not ready for human visitors so, we did the next best thing. Hunkered down in the somewhat air-conditioned lobby for wifi ; )
A late dinner at the top recommended Captain Hook restaurant by our ship's crew was a great way to end the evening. We've learned that the crew are the experts in knowing what to do at each port. They've already tried everything at least once.
We slept on the ship that night as we traveled to Tema, Ghana. It was the first time that we stayed on the boat during a short relocation. We usually travel overland stay in a hotel. Ghana was questionable to us so we opted for the ship.
We left the ship around noon and traveled with Shelly and Brendon, two students who hadn't made any plans either. The agenda we created included tips from Shelly, crew members and our Lost Planet guidebook.
We stepped off the ship and were quickly accosted by street vendors who had set up shop just outside the ship. I was in a good mood, well-rested and ready for a great day. Jeremy got tangled up in bargaining for a soccer jersey and I walked over to help. The vendors love handing you their merchandise and as a sales tactic, will not take it back until a price has been decided on. I heard Jeremy very politely decline all offers and said, "No Thanks". Of course, I was holding the jersey and the sales guy would not take it. I pretended to put them on the ground by his feet which totally offended him! Claiming that I was disrespecting him. I told him that he was the one lacking in manners as he would not accept "no" for an answer. Well...I got a loud earful! I placed the jersey on his shoulder and walked away. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed and it wasn't me!
We took the shuttle to the front of the port and walked about a mile to a pizza place for lunch. I know we should be eating the local food but pizza sounded good to all of us, plus Shelly had it the day before and highly recommended it. We passed goats and chickens in the road and had to keep mindful of the open sewers that line the streets as we dodged taxis weaving their way through pothole after pothole.
The restaurant overlooked the port and we had a good view of the MVExplorer below. The heat was stifling so we welcomed the cool ocean breeze that blew throughout the open-air restaurant and were happy as it helped to quickly dry our clothes damp with perspiration.
After we stuffed ourselves with authentic tasting American pizza, we headed out to the markets. Fortunately for us, Shelly had scoped out the central market and after her vivid description and my experience with the soccer jersey guy, we decided to stick to the smaller market just across the street.
We approached a hut which had many local paintings and wooden masks on display. Just as we arrived, out came a toddler about 2 years of age, smiling from ear to ear, dressed in a yellow shirt and pair of shorts, arms outstretched and yelling "Shelly!" They'd met the day before and obviously hit it off. Shelly's popularity garnered great bargains for us and new friendships with little Michael, Patricia (his mother) and his grandmother (the proprietor). All were wonderful people who were excited to learn about us and share their stories. We all exchanged email addresses and Facebook IDs. When we found wifi later that day and I saw that I had already received a friend request from Patricia ; )
After a pit stop at the ATM, we hailed a couple of cabs to go to a resort we had learned sold a day pass to their pool. We tried to send Brendan and Shelly off in the first cab but it didn't roll 3 feet before we noticed the flat tire. Luckily, the second cab that came along had room enough for all 6 of us if Jeremy and Brendan packed themselves in the back storage space, so that's what we did ; ) The hotel was only about 5 miles away and we covered about 2 of it before running out of gas. Stopped on an incline, the driver open the back and asked Brendan to pass him the milk jug next to him. It was about 2 cups worth of fuel. Of course the car still wouldn't start in the uphill position, so the driver opened the hood, sucked the gas up through fuel line took a mouthful and spit it into the appropriate compartment. I can't explain it in mechanical terms because I just don't know them. I can tell you however, that it absolutely disgusting! He tried to start the car, "click, click, click". So we decided that we needed to push the car to the top of the hill. Ben and I got lucky and were asked to hold the video cameras and everyone else pushed in the sweltering Gahanian sun : ) Another round of syphoning still did not do the trick and the boys hopped out for one last shove and a chance at roll starting. Success!
We rolled into the hotel. The beachfront we were anticipating was about a half mile away, the pool was green and not ready for human visitors so, we did the next best thing. Hunkered down in the somewhat air-conditioned lobby for wifi ; )
A late dinner at the top recommended Captain Hook restaurant by our ship's crew was a great way to end the evening. We've learned that the crew are the experts in knowing what to do at each port. They've already tried everything at least once.
We slept on the ship that night as we traveled to Tema, Ghana. It was the first time that we stayed on the boat during a short relocation. We usually travel overland stay in a hotel. Ghana was questionable to us so we opted for the ship.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Takoradi/Cape Coast, Ghana
Man it's HOT here! Crossing back into the northern hemisphere has brought us back to warm weather.
We arrived in Takoradi around 9:00 this morning. Pretty uneventful, we didn't even have to deal with immigration...just walked right off the ship! We traveled with some faculty and residence life staff today. And boarded a van that took us 2 hours east to the Kakum National Forest. We drove the more scenic route along the coastline. On our way, we watched out the window as our tour guide pointed out everything we saw. At first I thought it was rather impressive of him to know as much about this area as he did. He was able to explain the history of businesses, schools, government, industry, churches, etc. It is his job to know all this, however. But then as I looked around, I realized that there really just isn't much here. Vast forests. Poverty. Townships with churches and schools sometimes but mostly just shanty-type homes. More forests. Poverty. Market area. Forests again. Another township. More poverty. And so on. The 3 things that marry all these areas together were wondering goats, Shell fuel stations and piles of produce found on the roadside. The produce is harvested and collected on a daily basis all in hopes of someone stopping their vehicle to buy. Most times, they end up rotting where they sit. Goats and Shell stations are just everywhere.
We reached the Kankum National Forest just before 1:00. It is a rainforest. High above the ground among the tall treetops is a canopy bridge system for an arial view of the forest and more importantly, the forest floor, far...far...below.
It's funny how I just don't know my kids at all. After a bit of a hike, we reached the first bridge, suspended by what doesn't seem to amount to much more than a meek rope system, and some wooden planks. I put Ben first because...hmmm....I don't really know. Maybe I thought I could lunge for him if things started falling apart? Who knows. Instead, I had to slow him down and stop his constant threat to jump up and down once I got on. Jeremy, I know, has a slight fear of heights. I put him last because I didn't want to draw attention to his phobia. The next thing I know, the bridge is swaying and I look behind me and Jeremy is rocking it from side to side! Remember, we are hundreds of feet above the forest floor! Six bridges later, I was spent. Yes, Chris was with us but he was far behind us taking pictures as we crossed. His experience was probably not as death defying as mine.
After a delicious Gahanian lunch, we visited the Cape Coast Castle, built by the Swedes in 1653, and the Elmina Castle, built by the Portugese in 1482. Both structures were beautiful whitewashed buildings mostly of brick and limestone mortar. Each sitting on high ground above golden sand beaches. The waves of the Atlantic Ocean smoothing the boulders that decorated the landscape. And of course, the palm trees, a staple for any tropical paradise. I could just imagine the residents drinking up the cool ocean breezes of the early evening as the hot African sun set in the horizon.
But this was not the case. For most of the castle residents, of whom totaled over 3 million, two-thirds died here of unthinkable acts of inhumanity and the other third past through the "Door Of No Return" to begin new lives as slaves. We listened to stories of how these people were taken, abused and sold, each riddled with increasing atrocities. They took us to the dungeons where the captured were held in complete darkness, sometimes for months at a time, waiting for the slave ships to arrive. The dungeons were every definition of the word. Restoration work included the excavation of one of the males slave rooms where they removed layer upon layer of human excrement, blood and disease to reveal the brickwork below but left a square foot patch as a vivid and tangible reminder of what it once was.
I did not expect to be as moved as I was walking throughout the castle walls. From dungeon to governor's quarters, from branding room to auction room and to peer out the haunting and narrow exit literally labeled with a sign, "Door of No Return". But, if I've learned anything on this voyage, it's that surprises can happen anywhere and most often involve a human touch. As we went through the door and stood outside the castle we looked back onto the doorway and were told another story. Several remains of 1st generation American slaves have been returned to Ghana and, as a sign of complete reverence, they have been taken back to the castle and thorough this once "exit-only" door. Above it, is a sign that reads, "Door of Return".
We arrived in Takoradi around 9:00 this morning. Pretty uneventful, we didn't even have to deal with immigration...just walked right off the ship! We traveled with some faculty and residence life staff today. And boarded a van that took us 2 hours east to the Kakum National Forest. We drove the more scenic route along the coastline. On our way, we watched out the window as our tour guide pointed out everything we saw. At first I thought it was rather impressive of him to know as much about this area as he did. He was able to explain the history of businesses, schools, government, industry, churches, etc. It is his job to know all this, however. But then as I looked around, I realized that there really just isn't much here. Vast forests. Poverty. Townships with churches and schools sometimes but mostly just shanty-type homes. More forests. Poverty. Market area. Forests again. Another township. More poverty. And so on. The 3 things that marry all these areas together were wondering goats, Shell fuel stations and piles of produce found on the roadside. The produce is harvested and collected on a daily basis all in hopes of someone stopping their vehicle to buy. Most times, they end up rotting where they sit. Goats and Shell stations are just everywhere.
We reached the Kankum National Forest just before 1:00. It is a rainforest. High above the ground among the tall treetops is a canopy bridge system for an arial view of the forest and more importantly, the forest floor, far...far...below.
It's funny how I just don't know my kids at all. After a bit of a hike, we reached the first bridge, suspended by what doesn't seem to amount to much more than a meek rope system, and some wooden planks. I put Ben first because...hmmm....I don't really know. Maybe I thought I could lunge for him if things started falling apart? Who knows. Instead, I had to slow him down and stop his constant threat to jump up and down once I got on. Jeremy, I know, has a slight fear of heights. I put him last because I didn't want to draw attention to his phobia. The next thing I know, the bridge is swaying and I look behind me and Jeremy is rocking it from side to side! Remember, we are hundreds of feet above the forest floor! Six bridges later, I was spent. Yes, Chris was with us but he was far behind us taking pictures as we crossed. His experience was probably not as death defying as mine.
After a delicious Gahanian lunch, we visited the Cape Coast Castle, built by the Swedes in 1653, and the Elmina Castle, built by the Portugese in 1482. Both structures were beautiful whitewashed buildings mostly of brick and limestone mortar. Each sitting on high ground above golden sand beaches. The waves of the Atlantic Ocean smoothing the boulders that decorated the landscape. And of course, the palm trees, a staple for any tropical paradise. I could just imagine the residents drinking up the cool ocean breezes of the early evening as the hot African sun set in the horizon.
But this was not the case. For most of the castle residents, of whom totaled over 3 million, two-thirds died here of unthinkable acts of inhumanity and the other third past through the "Door Of No Return" to begin new lives as slaves. We listened to stories of how these people were taken, abused and sold, each riddled with increasing atrocities. They took us to the dungeons where the captured were held in complete darkness, sometimes for months at a time, waiting for the slave ships to arrive. The dungeons were every definition of the word. Restoration work included the excavation of one of the males slave rooms where they removed layer upon layer of human excrement, blood and disease to reveal the brickwork below but left a square foot patch as a vivid and tangible reminder of what it once was.
I did not expect to be as moved as I was walking throughout the castle walls. From dungeon to governor's quarters, from branding room to auction room and to peer out the haunting and narrow exit literally labeled with a sign, "Door of No Return". But, if I've learned anything on this voyage, it's that surprises can happen anywhere and most often involve a human touch. As we went through the door and stood outside the castle we looked back onto the doorway and were told another story. Several remains of 1st generation American slaves have been returned to Ghana and, as a sign of complete reverence, they have been taken back to the castle and thorough this once "exit-only" door. Above it, is a sign that reads, "Door of Return".
Friday, April 5, 2013
Latitude 0; Longitude 0
Just crossed back into the northern hemisphere and there is a buoy floating out in the middle of the ocean! Did someone actually mark it?!
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Cape Town, South Africa
Cape Town was a sight for soar eyes. Other than Singapore, it is most similar in look and feel to the US than any other port we have been to. However, we were hit with an laundry list of warnings about our host city. We received warnings in email form, by lecture from SAS and the US diplomat and in printed handed-outs. In no other port were we so thoroughly informed about the potential of crime. But as we walked off the ship, it really didn't feel that much different than downtown Atlanta. I think it's just a matter of being smart and following your instincts. Anyway, we couldn't wait to get off the ship, so there really was no stopping us!
We headed straight to the V&A Waterfront for some much needed cash! We have had some troubles with our credit cards not understanding the extent of our travels. Chris found a popular ATM (long line) at the top of the mall so the boys and I did some window shopping. The first store to catch our eye was the Biltong Shack. Biltong is the local beef jerky. And if I tell you it's fresh, I mean that it is tender and moist! It looks as though it is a dried medium-rare piece of meat. And when I say "meat" that means all types of game and in all assorted flavors. It was a clear preview of our safari to come.
We ran short on time and only had a few minutes of wifi before we had to grab our lunch and head back to the ship for our city cycle tour. It was great tour because we hit all the highlights of the city in only a few hours and we were able to get the lay of the land for future outings. We all suited up with 21 speed tour bikes, helmets and the ever necessary, water bottle for hydration. It is the start of the fall season here so, the weather is sunny and in the mid 70's. Not an ounce of complaint from the Smiths!
No matter where we went in the city, we felt the tangible omnipresence of the formidable Table Mountain. It was a clear day and there was no mistaking the grandeur of this 600 million year old natural wonder. And various points during our tour I would just stop in awe of its magnitude and was fortunate, at times, to see the "tablecloth" of clouds that often drapes this flat-topped mountain.
Highlights of the tour included:
- Bo-Kaap: Where free slaves first settled in the 1830's.
- Company's Garden : Once the vegetable gardens of the first Dutch settlers, it's now a public park and the oldest in Cape Town.
- Green Market - for local arts and crafts
- St. George's Cathedral where Archbishop Tutu presided and the only church welcoming all people during the times of Apartheid.
Later that night, we met up with Jeremy & Ben's 3rd grade teacher's sister! (Did you follow that?) Janice is living in Cape Town with her daughter, her husband and their 2 boys. Charlie, the eldest at 5 years old, and Janice attended the MVExplorer's open ship event that night. After a quick tour of the ship, we all headed out to the Waterfront for dinner. On the recommendation of the US Diplomat, we went to Belthasar's for the "Game Kabob". I decided that it might be best for me to try these new meats BEFORE seeing them on safari because I already have a hard time stomaching fish if I've seen it alive. I much prefer a piece of meat that has no recognizable features of the animal it is. On my entree skewer were large chunks of meat including, Springbok, Gemsbok, one other kind of "bok" and Wildebeest. Can't say that I could really distinguish one from the other or even preferred one over the other but, admittedly, they were all pretty darned good ; )
We had a fantastic time talking with Janice and Charlie about their lives in South Africa and how it compares to home. And although it was our first meeting, it was nice to have a connection to home.
The following day we boarded a bus for the Garden Route Safari. Thus far, SAS trips have consistently scored high on our "Wow Factor Scale" and this was no exception. We drove about 4 hours through the western cape via the Garden Route, aptly named because of the area's proficiency at growing crops throughout the year. The scenery and views of the mountains were spectacular. It was about 3:00 when we arrived at the Garden Route Game Lodge. It was a lodge beyond the imagination. Situated in a valley surrounded by the Outeniqua Mountains, the rustic lodge was fittingly nestled in the savannas of the safari grounds. Blacks, golds, oranges, browns, greens and yellows are the colors most prevalent in the natural beauty of this part of the world. This is Africa.
As we walked through the grounds to our cabanas, I felt that I might actually have an encounter with the elusive J. Peterman, himself, recuperating here, in front of the grand fireplace. Commanding the well-worn leather high-backed armchair, boots still dusty from his travels and whiskey in hand after a long and treacherous expedition through the wilds of Africa, recounting his adventures to eager tourist listeners and high on adrenaline over the treasures he had secured to include in the next printing of his catalogue - The Game Drive Edition.
It was 5:00 and time for our first game drive. The sun was considering going down and the air was just cool enough for a light jacket. We boarded our tried and true 4x4 and were introduced to our guide, Ashley. A graduate of an animal conservatory in South Africa, he described his position at the game lodge as a "dream job". You'd be hard-pressed to argue with him. Although, the job entails hard labor at times, the trade off of living in such beautiful surroundings and among the mightiest of creatures seemed to play to his advantage.
Of "The Big Five", we saw four. The title is given to the 5 most dangerous animals hunted by man. They include the buffalo, the rhinoceros, the elephant, the lion and the leopard. It was the leopard that made us come up short. Apparently, the leopard is so difficult to maintain and keep track of that true sightings are far and few between.
Having never been on safari before we were in awe of the size of these animals and the sometimes-too-close proximity which we were allowed to have of them. We found the lioness in a valley as the lion, himself, sat above her keeping a close watch as she enjoyed her dinner. This lioness was obviously the favorite of the lion. We learned that he quickly disposed of the second one upon their introduction. We were approximately 30 yards close to the lioness but Ashley assured us that since she was happily gnawing away at a horse's head, we were at a safe watching distance. Although, mesmerized by her large size and adeptness in shredding every ounce of flesh off the skull, I kept wary of just how close we were to her. I don't think my heart has ever pounded that rapidly just sitting still.
The elephants, are massive and awesome in their own right but somehow a much more sedate experience. We were actually allowed to feed these guys and, if allowed, I would have stayed with them all day. They see you coming, cupped hands full of grain and they extend their trunk then turn it over allowing you to easily drop the the food right in. Interestingly, if you don't put enough food in, they will stay in that position until their trunk is filled. At one point, the female elephant got slightly perturbed at the little amount she was getting and expressed her frustration by blowing whatever food and other trunk muck she had collected straight at Chris! Awesome ; )
Other animal sightings included, Giraffes (you couldn't miss them!), Ostriches, Springboks, Wildebeests, Zebras, Rhinos and Cheetahs to name a few. Out of all the other people on safari, it was only our 4x4 that encountered the rarest sighting of all...
A lost Shetland Sheep Dog ; ) This poor thing had no idea what danger it was in. With all sorts of wild animals and especially the cheetah always at prey this little girl couldn't have been more vulnerable. We collected her into our jeep and called the lodge to retrieve her. She belonged to the neighbor next door and was clearly a house dog...clean coat and eager to play. Word got back to us that as soon as they reached the lodge, she jumped out and escaped again! Later that night, sitting on our porch, Chris and I spotted her again. I hope she didn't end up as something's midnight snack!
So, upon returning from each game drive, we were directed to the restaurant of the lodge where there was always a fantastic spread of food laid out for us. Stews and breads, vegetables and meats, fruits and cheeses, wines and local brews...it was always a feast. But it was a feast on the animals we'd just encountered on safari! I tried the Springbok and Wildebeest at the first meal but became strictly vegetarian at all subsequent meals. I just couldn't do it...images of the lioness as she mauled the toothy-grinned horse head made me consider my food choices altogether.
After our 3 day safari, we returned to Cape Town ready to see the sights of this port city. We hopped on the city tour bus that takes you all around with narrated description of each area. We had purchased tickets for the cable car to the top of Table Mountain. It has just recently been named one of the "new" natural wonders of the world. Requirements for this prestigious title must be very strict considering Table Mountain is over 600 years old!
As the bus climbed the increasingly steep slope to the cable station we caught glimpses of the city and ocean below. "Breathtaking" would be the only description. We couldn't wait to see the 360 degree view from the top of the mountain which was sure to be spectacular! But as luck would have it, the winds that day were too strong and the cable cars were not running...darn. A reason to return to Cape Town.
We lunched in an area called Camps Bay. It is a beach community on the other side of Table Mountain. It's THE place to see and be seen ; ) Very Miami-esque...outdoor restaurants filled with beautiful people and overlooking the white sand beach.
We quickly contrasted our experience by taking a cab to the area known a Bo-Kaap. Established by freed slaves in the 1830's, this area is thick with history. We stopped in the small museum where we were given a brief lesson in the people and culture that started the Bo-Kaap area. In summary, it is largely Muslim and the culture is that of the Cape Malay people. The old slave homes are still intact and in use today. Small rectangular buildings situated on steep cobblestones streets makes for a very quaint feel. What's best is that in keeping with tradition, these homes are painted in a wide variety of bright colors. As slaves, the first residents were only allowed to wear gray drab clothes. In celebration of their freedom, they painted their homes an array of vibrant colors which still continues today. Ironically, the Bo-Kaap area has become a popular backdrop for worldwide, high-end, fashion photography. If you've ever glanced through a summer issue of Vogue or designer catalogues, you've probably seen your favorite model photographed here. Even more ironic...Bo-Kaap is somewhat safe during the daylight hours but a visit after sunset is strongly discouraged because of its high crime rate.
That night we were picked up by our new friend, Janice, who brought us back to her house for dinner. I think it was Jeremy who commented that we'd not stepped foot in a home or had a home-cooked meal in 3 months! This made the wait so worthwhile. We met Peter, her 4 year old grandson and his parents, Kate and George who are both lawyers. George's parents just happened to arrive for a visit the day before making it quite a party. We soaked in the hospitality and ate every bite of food on the table. It was a fantastic evening learning of their first year here as professionals, parents and residents. Great food, wine, atmosphere and company...all helped to round out our South African experience ; )
The last day in Cape Town produced an unimaginable wind storm. We never got the official speed reading of the high winds but it was certainly fast enough to pick us up off our feet from time to time!
We hired a cab driver to drive us around the southern peninsula. Our first stop was Boulders Beach. A beautiful white sand beach dotted with enormous, smooth, gray boulders. But it's most interesting feature is that it is the home of thousands of African Penguins! I had never seen so many tuxedo-clad birds in my life. They were so cute that I couldn't stop laughing the whole time we were there! If a penguin can't put a smile on your face, you probably have some soul searching to do ! ; )
Probably my favorite stop of the day was at Cape Point, the most south western point of Africa where you can see both the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. A truly jaw-dropping experience! Cape Point is one of those places in the world that makes you sit back and ask, "How the heck was all this created?!" And because of how wondrous it is, it's also one of those places that is extremely hard to leave...
We drove the scenic route to Hout Bay up Chapman's Peak where our driver told us that just 5 months ago, 2 tourist standing at the edge overlooking the bay were windswept and plunged down the steep jagged cliff. That being said, although it is one of the most beautiful views I'd ever seen, I'd recommend waiting for better weather. It was scary up there!
Lastly, we took a drive through a township outside of Hout Bay. Townships are a direct result of Apartheid. The exclusion of all non-white people in Cape Town and forcibly removing them from the city limits, these people were left to their own resourcefulness in creating shelter and a life for themselves. Housing material consists of anything they could get their hands on that would protect them from the elements. Sadly, the practice still continues today. Most 13 year old boys are expected to move out of their parents' homes and begin their own lives and start their own families. With limited knowledge and skill set it is understandable that they don't venture too far from home. So the townships grow more cluttered each year as more and more homes get built. However, we learned from our driver that there is a group of men from Ireland who dedicate their time and effort to building substantial housing for the poverty stricken township residents. Each October, the Irishmen descend upon Cape Town and for one week, build 200 new dwelling places.
Our stay in South Africa was magnificent. But we know we have not even begun to understand this part if the world. There are so many great experiences still left to be had. One professor told Chris that he stopped feeling bad about missing out on things. Instead, he looks at the unturned stones as reasons to come back. So, farewell for now, South Africa. We will see you again!
We headed straight to the V&A Waterfront for some much needed cash! We have had some troubles with our credit cards not understanding the extent of our travels. Chris found a popular ATM (long line) at the top of the mall so the boys and I did some window shopping. The first store to catch our eye was the Biltong Shack. Biltong is the local beef jerky. And if I tell you it's fresh, I mean that it is tender and moist! It looks as though it is a dried medium-rare piece of meat. And when I say "meat" that means all types of game and in all assorted flavors. It was a clear preview of our safari to come.
We ran short on time and only had a few minutes of wifi before we had to grab our lunch and head back to the ship for our city cycle tour. It was great tour because we hit all the highlights of the city in only a few hours and we were able to get the lay of the land for future outings. We all suited up with 21 speed tour bikes, helmets and the ever necessary, water bottle for hydration. It is the start of the fall season here so, the weather is sunny and in the mid 70's. Not an ounce of complaint from the Smiths!
No matter where we went in the city, we felt the tangible omnipresence of the formidable Table Mountain. It was a clear day and there was no mistaking the grandeur of this 600 million year old natural wonder. And various points during our tour I would just stop in awe of its magnitude and was fortunate, at times, to see the "tablecloth" of clouds that often drapes this flat-topped mountain.
Highlights of the tour included:
- Bo-Kaap: Where free slaves first settled in the 1830's.
- Company's Garden : Once the vegetable gardens of the first Dutch settlers, it's now a public park and the oldest in Cape Town.
- Green Market - for local arts and crafts
- St. George's Cathedral where Archbishop Tutu presided and the only church welcoming all people during the times of Apartheid.
Later that night, we met up with Jeremy & Ben's 3rd grade teacher's sister! (Did you follow that?) Janice is living in Cape Town with her daughter, her husband and their 2 boys. Charlie, the eldest at 5 years old, and Janice attended the MVExplorer's open ship event that night. After a quick tour of the ship, we all headed out to the Waterfront for dinner. On the recommendation of the US Diplomat, we went to Belthasar's for the "Game Kabob". I decided that it might be best for me to try these new meats BEFORE seeing them on safari because I already have a hard time stomaching fish if I've seen it alive. I much prefer a piece of meat that has no recognizable features of the animal it is. On my entree skewer were large chunks of meat including, Springbok, Gemsbok, one other kind of "bok" and Wildebeest. Can't say that I could really distinguish one from the other or even preferred one over the other but, admittedly, they were all pretty darned good ; )
We had a fantastic time talking with Janice and Charlie about their lives in South Africa and how it compares to home. And although it was our first meeting, it was nice to have a connection to home.
The following day we boarded a bus for the Garden Route Safari. Thus far, SAS trips have consistently scored high on our "Wow Factor Scale" and this was no exception. We drove about 4 hours through the western cape via the Garden Route, aptly named because of the area's proficiency at growing crops throughout the year. The scenery and views of the mountains were spectacular. It was about 3:00 when we arrived at the Garden Route Game Lodge. It was a lodge beyond the imagination. Situated in a valley surrounded by the Outeniqua Mountains, the rustic lodge was fittingly nestled in the savannas of the safari grounds. Blacks, golds, oranges, browns, greens and yellows are the colors most prevalent in the natural beauty of this part of the world. This is Africa.
As we walked through the grounds to our cabanas, I felt that I might actually have an encounter with the elusive J. Peterman, himself, recuperating here, in front of the grand fireplace. Commanding the well-worn leather high-backed armchair, boots still dusty from his travels and whiskey in hand after a long and treacherous expedition through the wilds of Africa, recounting his adventures to eager tourist listeners and high on adrenaline over the treasures he had secured to include in the next printing of his catalogue - The Game Drive Edition.
It was 5:00 and time for our first game drive. The sun was considering going down and the air was just cool enough for a light jacket. We boarded our tried and true 4x4 and were introduced to our guide, Ashley. A graduate of an animal conservatory in South Africa, he described his position at the game lodge as a "dream job". You'd be hard-pressed to argue with him. Although, the job entails hard labor at times, the trade off of living in such beautiful surroundings and among the mightiest of creatures seemed to play to his advantage.
Of "The Big Five", we saw four. The title is given to the 5 most dangerous animals hunted by man. They include the buffalo, the rhinoceros, the elephant, the lion and the leopard. It was the leopard that made us come up short. Apparently, the leopard is so difficult to maintain and keep track of that true sightings are far and few between.
Having never been on safari before we were in awe of the size of these animals and the sometimes-too-close proximity which we were allowed to have of them. We found the lioness in a valley as the lion, himself, sat above her keeping a close watch as she enjoyed her dinner. This lioness was obviously the favorite of the lion. We learned that he quickly disposed of the second one upon their introduction. We were approximately 30 yards close to the lioness but Ashley assured us that since she was happily gnawing away at a horse's head, we were at a safe watching distance. Although, mesmerized by her large size and adeptness in shredding every ounce of flesh off the skull, I kept wary of just how close we were to her. I don't think my heart has ever pounded that rapidly just sitting still.
The elephants, are massive and awesome in their own right but somehow a much more sedate experience. We were actually allowed to feed these guys and, if allowed, I would have stayed with them all day. They see you coming, cupped hands full of grain and they extend their trunk then turn it over allowing you to easily drop the the food right in. Interestingly, if you don't put enough food in, they will stay in that position until their trunk is filled. At one point, the female elephant got slightly perturbed at the little amount she was getting and expressed her frustration by blowing whatever food and other trunk muck she had collected straight at Chris! Awesome ; )
Other animal sightings included, Giraffes (you couldn't miss them!), Ostriches, Springboks, Wildebeests, Zebras, Rhinos and Cheetahs to name a few. Out of all the other people on safari, it was only our 4x4 that encountered the rarest sighting of all...
A lost Shetland Sheep Dog ; ) This poor thing had no idea what danger it was in. With all sorts of wild animals and especially the cheetah always at prey this little girl couldn't have been more vulnerable. We collected her into our jeep and called the lodge to retrieve her. She belonged to the neighbor next door and was clearly a house dog...clean coat and eager to play. Word got back to us that as soon as they reached the lodge, she jumped out and escaped again! Later that night, sitting on our porch, Chris and I spotted her again. I hope she didn't end up as something's midnight snack!
So, upon returning from each game drive, we were directed to the restaurant of the lodge where there was always a fantastic spread of food laid out for us. Stews and breads, vegetables and meats, fruits and cheeses, wines and local brews...it was always a feast. But it was a feast on the animals we'd just encountered on safari! I tried the Springbok and Wildebeest at the first meal but became strictly vegetarian at all subsequent meals. I just couldn't do it...images of the lioness as she mauled the toothy-grinned horse head made me consider my food choices altogether.
After our 3 day safari, we returned to Cape Town ready to see the sights of this port city. We hopped on the city tour bus that takes you all around with narrated description of each area. We had purchased tickets for the cable car to the top of Table Mountain. It has just recently been named one of the "new" natural wonders of the world. Requirements for this prestigious title must be very strict considering Table Mountain is over 600 years old!
As the bus climbed the increasingly steep slope to the cable station we caught glimpses of the city and ocean below. "Breathtaking" would be the only description. We couldn't wait to see the 360 degree view from the top of the mountain which was sure to be spectacular! But as luck would have it, the winds that day were too strong and the cable cars were not running...darn. A reason to return to Cape Town.
We lunched in an area called Camps Bay. It is a beach community on the other side of Table Mountain. It's THE place to see and be seen ; ) Very Miami-esque...outdoor restaurants filled with beautiful people and overlooking the white sand beach.
We quickly contrasted our experience by taking a cab to the area known a Bo-Kaap. Established by freed slaves in the 1830's, this area is thick with history. We stopped in the small museum where we were given a brief lesson in the people and culture that started the Bo-Kaap area. In summary, it is largely Muslim and the culture is that of the Cape Malay people. The old slave homes are still intact and in use today. Small rectangular buildings situated on steep cobblestones streets makes for a very quaint feel. What's best is that in keeping with tradition, these homes are painted in a wide variety of bright colors. As slaves, the first residents were only allowed to wear gray drab clothes. In celebration of their freedom, they painted their homes an array of vibrant colors which still continues today. Ironically, the Bo-Kaap area has become a popular backdrop for worldwide, high-end, fashion photography. If you've ever glanced through a summer issue of Vogue or designer catalogues, you've probably seen your favorite model photographed here. Even more ironic...Bo-Kaap is somewhat safe during the daylight hours but a visit after sunset is strongly discouraged because of its high crime rate.
That night we were picked up by our new friend, Janice, who brought us back to her house for dinner. I think it was Jeremy who commented that we'd not stepped foot in a home or had a home-cooked meal in 3 months! This made the wait so worthwhile. We met Peter, her 4 year old grandson and his parents, Kate and George who are both lawyers. George's parents just happened to arrive for a visit the day before making it quite a party. We soaked in the hospitality and ate every bite of food on the table. It was a fantastic evening learning of their first year here as professionals, parents and residents. Great food, wine, atmosphere and company...all helped to round out our South African experience ; )
The last day in Cape Town produced an unimaginable wind storm. We never got the official speed reading of the high winds but it was certainly fast enough to pick us up off our feet from time to time!
We hired a cab driver to drive us around the southern peninsula. Our first stop was Boulders Beach. A beautiful white sand beach dotted with enormous, smooth, gray boulders. But it's most interesting feature is that it is the home of thousands of African Penguins! I had never seen so many tuxedo-clad birds in my life. They were so cute that I couldn't stop laughing the whole time we were there! If a penguin can't put a smile on your face, you probably have some soul searching to do ! ; )
Probably my favorite stop of the day was at Cape Point, the most south western point of Africa where you can see both the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. A truly jaw-dropping experience! Cape Point is one of those places in the world that makes you sit back and ask, "How the heck was all this created?!" And because of how wondrous it is, it's also one of those places that is extremely hard to leave...
We drove the scenic route to Hout Bay up Chapman's Peak where our driver told us that just 5 months ago, 2 tourist standing at the edge overlooking the bay were windswept and plunged down the steep jagged cliff. That being said, although it is one of the most beautiful views I'd ever seen, I'd recommend waiting for better weather. It was scary up there!
Lastly, we took a drive through a township outside of Hout Bay. Townships are a direct result of Apartheid. The exclusion of all non-white people in Cape Town and forcibly removing them from the city limits, these people were left to their own resourcefulness in creating shelter and a life for themselves. Housing material consists of anything they could get their hands on that would protect them from the elements. Sadly, the practice still continues today. Most 13 year old boys are expected to move out of their parents' homes and begin their own lives and start their own families. With limited knowledge and skill set it is understandable that they don't venture too far from home. So the townships grow more cluttered each year as more and more homes get built. However, we learned from our driver that there is a group of men from Ireland who dedicate their time and effort to building substantial housing for the poverty stricken township residents. Each October, the Irishmen descend upon Cape Town and for one week, build 200 new dwelling places.
Our stay in South Africa was magnificent. But we know we have not even begun to understand this part if the world. There are so many great experiences still left to be had. One professor told Chris that he stopped feeling bad about missing out on things. Instead, he looks at the unturned stones as reasons to come back. So, farewell for now, South Africa. We will see you again!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Random Pix
Photo 1:
Upon waking in the back if the restaurant before our bus scar ride to the Golden Rock - Kinpun, Myanmar
Photo 2:
Archbishop Tutu...a cabbie we hired for 2 days leaked the news to his reporter friend that the Archbishop was on our ship. I heard he was stalked by fans most of the time we were in port.
Photo 3:
After a morning of snorkeling, collecting shells on a beach in Mauritius as we waited for our lunch to be grilled ; )
Photo 4:
Chris holding down the fort with students signed up to help One Earth Design while co-founder, Catlin, was in Germany.
Upon waking in the back if the restaurant before our bus scar ride to the Golden Rock - Kinpun, Myanmar
Photo 2:
Archbishop Tutu...a cabbie we hired for 2 days leaked the news to his reporter friend that the Archbishop was on our ship. I heard he was stalked by fans most of the time we were in port.
Photo 3:
After a morning of snorkeling, collecting shells on a beach in Mauritius as we waited for our lunch to be grilled ; )
Photo 4:
Chris holding down the fort with students signed up to help One Earth Design while co-founder, Catlin, was in Germany.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Sailing, sailing!
Our voyage from India to Cape Town is a total of 12 days with a half of a day stop in Mauritius. Thank goodness for Mauritius! Otherwise the near two weeks at sea could be daunting. However, some people on the ship may be thinking they'd never heard of Mauritius...
At the Pre Port meeting the night before we docked, the Executive Dean gave his most solemn and serious warnings to the students about behaving in this port. Too many travesties have occurred in Mauritius and they make up the major reason why SAS does not schedule an overnight stop here. The Dean warned that there would be severe consequences to those who boarded the ship intoxicated or otherwise, the testing would be random and the standard penalties would be tripled. With such severe restrictions in place, even the cleanest of slates could result in expulsion from the ship, program and semester.
The Smiths split up in Mauritius. A gorgeous, lush island first settled by the Portuguese and lastly by the British but it was the French customs and culture that stuck. Chris and Jeremy went to the Tamarina Golf Course and then toured the city of Port Louis by cab. Ben and I hooked up with a group of people and went to Coin du Mire on the north side of the island and went snorkeling for the day. We swam around the base of the huge green island, one of the many that make up Mauritius, where the coral was vibrant and the fish were abundant. The air was just warm enough to feel refreshed as we hit the water which was so nice to finally touch after traveling on top of it for so long. It was such a great time although Ben decided that snorkeling is not for him. The feeling of swimming in an aquarium, that I enjoy so much, is a little overwhelming for Ben and would rather stay in his own habitat above water. At least he tried it.
Afterward, we were taken to a beautiful beach where we dined on a grilled lunch of beef kabobs, fish, chicken and pineapple along with a variety of culinary accompaniments, all you can drink beer, wine and rum punch.
On our return, the boat ran up onto a very populated beach. Upon closer inspection, we realized that most of our friends from the ship were here. Ben did not want to leave, of course, but our bus was waiting and transportation back to the ship was scarce. We got to the city center and did a little souvenir shopping and walked the last mile to the ship. As we neared the port, we collect a few others who were making the trek and heard the rumble of the first field trip bus coming back to the ship behind us. The last thing you want to do is get stuck in the back of the long line of people boarding the ship so we ran the last 200 yards to beat the bus. As we stood in line, we conversed with several students we know very well. It was obvious no matter how they tried to explain their condition, that they were 3 sheets to the wind.
We got through ship security and I was headed up the stairs to my cabin when Ben called me back to the gangway. One of our friends had gotten pulled aside for testing. I'd never seen Ben so worried. As we stood outside the clinic where they were doing the testing, we saw no less that 12 other students get pulled in AND one of the adults we'd just spent the day with!
29 students were thrown into the"observation room" (drunk tank) that day and with the threat of 3 times the penalty points hanging over their heads, the potential of severe consequences are looming. As much as I know they deserve whatever punishment they get, it's still hard to sit back and watch them throw away the privilege of sailing with SAS in a matter of only
a few hours.
The next day was back to school and work as usual for everyone. Chris is also leading a group of students for one of the entrepreneur companies that is sailing with us. It's called One Earth Designs and they have created a solar powered cooker primarily to help the nomads of rural china to give them a cleaner, less expensive way of cooking. It's Catlin's company, who you may remember, is one of the first people we met on the bus from Ensenada. She and her partner are constantly on and off the ship, flying to all different countries to promote their product while we are at sea and students fulfill research and marketing projects while they are away. She disembarked in India and we won't see her again until Cape Town so she has put Chris in charge. I don't particularly like to toot our own horn, but in the case of Chris, I can't help it. I think he still may have a future in teaching. I watch him in these meetings and he is captivating. The students willingly follow his direction and are genuinely interested in every word that comes out of his mouth. He's also made a great impression on the faculty on board who teach the business classes. Just the other day, he was invited to be on a panel for one of the ship wide seminars on the topic of entrepreneurship. Others on the panel included a venture capitalist who has raised billions of dollars for several Asian software products, a marketing professor from Stamford who is the founder of the Design School, the founder of The Unreasonable Institute, a marketing professor and entrepreneur from Stetson and the founder of Damascus Fortune who has created a carbon cylinder as a new source of energy. Chris is keeping some very intellectual company on board ; )
The activities on board during our voyage to Cape Town have increased as well. They've organized this leg of the trip well so that we don't get too crazy realizing we are somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Neptune Day was the start of it which was great fun and yesterday they held the Sea Olympics! Now, THAT was AWESOME!
The ship community is divided into "seas"...Agean, Red, Mediterranean, etc. Our group consist of the staff, faculty, life long learners and their kids. For some reason, we were not given an official sea name and were dubbed the "Luna Sea". Ugh...whatever. The median age of our sea is probably in the range of 35-40. Not huge competition for the 18-21 year olds that made up the rest of the field. But out of the 9 teams, Luna Sea placed 4th overall! We were ecstatic! There were quite a few leveling events that made the day much more competitive. Of the Smith family, we were in quite a few activities including, dodgeball, tank, ninja, ship/wave/captain (like rock/paper/scissors), tug of war, pb&j sandwich feeding, knockout and...SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING! I'll have to ask you to use your imagination when deciding who of us did what. An added bonus to the day was that as we turn the corner around Africa, we enter an area where the Indian, Southern and Atlantic Oceans collide making for some pretty rough waters. That being said, the pool sloshed around enough to almost empty every drop of water so, the synchronized swimming event was held dry in the student union ; ) It was quite a day. Packed with fun, competition and camaraderie. You know you've had a great time when you're in bed by 8pm and your face and sides hurt from laughing all day long.
3 more days until we reach Cape Town!
At the Pre Port meeting the night before we docked, the Executive Dean gave his most solemn and serious warnings to the students about behaving in this port. Too many travesties have occurred in Mauritius and they make up the major reason why SAS does not schedule an overnight stop here. The Dean warned that there would be severe consequences to those who boarded the ship intoxicated or otherwise, the testing would be random and the standard penalties would be tripled. With such severe restrictions in place, even the cleanest of slates could result in expulsion from the ship, program and semester.
The Smiths split up in Mauritius. A gorgeous, lush island first settled by the Portuguese and lastly by the British but it was the French customs and culture that stuck. Chris and Jeremy went to the Tamarina Golf Course and then toured the city of Port Louis by cab. Ben and I hooked up with a group of people and went to Coin du Mire on the north side of the island and went snorkeling for the day. We swam around the base of the huge green island, one of the many that make up Mauritius, where the coral was vibrant and the fish were abundant. The air was just warm enough to feel refreshed as we hit the water which was so nice to finally touch after traveling on top of it for so long. It was such a great time although Ben decided that snorkeling is not for him. The feeling of swimming in an aquarium, that I enjoy so much, is a little overwhelming for Ben and would rather stay in his own habitat above water. At least he tried it.
Afterward, we were taken to a beautiful beach where we dined on a grilled lunch of beef kabobs, fish, chicken and pineapple along with a variety of culinary accompaniments, all you can drink beer, wine and rum punch.
On our return, the boat ran up onto a very populated beach. Upon closer inspection, we realized that most of our friends from the ship were here. Ben did not want to leave, of course, but our bus was waiting and transportation back to the ship was scarce. We got to the city center and did a little souvenir shopping and walked the last mile to the ship. As we neared the port, we collect a few others who were making the trek and heard the rumble of the first field trip bus coming back to the ship behind us. The last thing you want to do is get stuck in the back of the long line of people boarding the ship so we ran the last 200 yards to beat the bus. As we stood in line, we conversed with several students we know very well. It was obvious no matter how they tried to explain their condition, that they were 3 sheets to the wind.
We got through ship security and I was headed up the stairs to my cabin when Ben called me back to the gangway. One of our friends had gotten pulled aside for testing. I'd never seen Ben so worried. As we stood outside the clinic where they were doing the testing, we saw no less that 12 other students get pulled in AND one of the adults we'd just spent the day with!
29 students were thrown into the"observation room" (drunk tank) that day and with the threat of 3 times the penalty points hanging over their heads, the potential of severe consequences are looming. As much as I know they deserve whatever punishment they get, it's still hard to sit back and watch them throw away the privilege of sailing with SAS in a matter of only
a few hours.
The next day was back to school and work as usual for everyone. Chris is also leading a group of students for one of the entrepreneur companies that is sailing with us. It's called One Earth Designs and they have created a solar powered cooker primarily to help the nomads of rural china to give them a cleaner, less expensive way of cooking. It's Catlin's company, who you may remember, is one of the first people we met on the bus from Ensenada. She and her partner are constantly on and off the ship, flying to all different countries to promote their product while we are at sea and students fulfill research and marketing projects while they are away. She disembarked in India and we won't see her again until Cape Town so she has put Chris in charge. I don't particularly like to toot our own horn, but in the case of Chris, I can't help it. I think he still may have a future in teaching. I watch him in these meetings and he is captivating. The students willingly follow his direction and are genuinely interested in every word that comes out of his mouth. He's also made a great impression on the faculty on board who teach the business classes. Just the other day, he was invited to be on a panel for one of the ship wide seminars on the topic of entrepreneurship. Others on the panel included a venture capitalist who has raised billions of dollars for several Asian software products, a marketing professor from Stamford who is the founder of the Design School, the founder of The Unreasonable Institute, a marketing professor and entrepreneur from Stetson and the founder of Damascus Fortune who has created a carbon cylinder as a new source of energy. Chris is keeping some very intellectual company on board ; )
The activities on board during our voyage to Cape Town have increased as well. They've organized this leg of the trip well so that we don't get too crazy realizing we are somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Neptune Day was the start of it which was great fun and yesterday they held the Sea Olympics! Now, THAT was AWESOME!
The ship community is divided into "seas"...Agean, Red, Mediterranean, etc. Our group consist of the staff, faculty, life long learners and their kids. For some reason, we were not given an official sea name and were dubbed the "Luna Sea". Ugh...whatever. The median age of our sea is probably in the range of 35-40. Not huge competition for the 18-21 year olds that made up the rest of the field. But out of the 9 teams, Luna Sea placed 4th overall! We were ecstatic! There were quite a few leveling events that made the day much more competitive. Of the Smith family, we were in quite a few activities including, dodgeball, tank, ninja, ship/wave/captain (like rock/paper/scissors), tug of war, pb&j sandwich feeding, knockout and...SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING! I'll have to ask you to use your imagination when deciding who of us did what. An added bonus to the day was that as we turn the corner around Africa, we enter an area where the Indian, Southern and Atlantic Oceans collide making for some pretty rough waters. That being said, the pool sloshed around enough to almost empty every drop of water so, the synchronized swimming event was held dry in the student union ; ) It was quite a day. Packed with fun, competition and camaraderie. You know you've had a great time when you're in bed by 8pm and your face and sides hurt from laughing all day long.
3 more days until we reach Cape Town!
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Shellbacks Now Are We!
I had reservations...we were just crossing the equator by ship. So what? We crossed the International Dateline with no pomp and circumstance. Actually, we were rewarded with another hour of sleep. A celebration rather than a ceremony. That's how I like it. But then the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that crossing the equator by ship probably warrants a commemoration of some sort and if the explorers and travelers of centuries ago decided that Neptune Day was the way to do it, then who was I to question tradition. A pollywog, that's who I was.
The day began with a rude awakening. Seriously. Starting at 7am, crew members cloaked in white and gold marched up and down the halls with whistles and drums calling all passengers to the top most deck.
We all congregated around the pool as the ceremony began. In came Queen Minerva and her court each cradling large not-so-fresh fish, followed by King Neptune, himself in all his sea-green glory. The hundreds of Pollywogs recited a poem proclaiming our desire to become Shellbacks however unworthy we all were. Then came the rite of passage.
We lined up in groups of 5 at the first station where we were doused from head to toe in marine life liquid smelling much like the bottom of an aquarium in desperate need of a cleaning. We were then ordered by the king to plunge into the pool for a rinse before approaching him. (As you can imagine, waiting too long to get through the first station only resulted in a swim in a stinky, murky pool.) Upon emerging from the pool we found ourselves in a slimy, lukewarm lip lock with the chicken of the sea or some close relative. At the final station, we were face to face with the trident bearing king to whom we bowed and kissed his emerald ring. If he approved of your anointing, you were allowed you to pass. If he felt that you were still unworthy, he chucked you back into the pool to begin the process again.
If, for some reason you felt that you were still unworthy of the elevated status and needed the delve deeper into the ocean that is your psyche, you could cap off the ceremony with a visit to the Royal Barbers.
So, regarding to The Smith Family Four:
Shellbacks now are we
One with locks still flowing
And BALD are the other three!
We arrive in Mauritius on the 18th. We are at port for only 12 hours then back to sea for 6 days on our way to Cape Town!
The day began with a rude awakening. Seriously. Starting at 7am, crew members cloaked in white and gold marched up and down the halls with whistles and drums calling all passengers to the top most deck.
We all congregated around the pool as the ceremony began. In came Queen Minerva and her court each cradling large not-so-fresh fish, followed by King Neptune, himself in all his sea-green glory. The hundreds of Pollywogs recited a poem proclaiming our desire to become Shellbacks however unworthy we all were. Then came the rite of passage.
We lined up in groups of 5 at the first station where we were doused from head to toe in marine life liquid smelling much like the bottom of an aquarium in desperate need of a cleaning. We were then ordered by the king to plunge into the pool for a rinse before approaching him. (As you can imagine, waiting too long to get through the first station only resulted in a swim in a stinky, murky pool.) Upon emerging from the pool we found ourselves in a slimy, lukewarm lip lock with the chicken of the sea or some close relative. At the final station, we were face to face with the trident bearing king to whom we bowed and kissed his emerald ring. If he approved of your anointing, you were allowed you to pass. If he felt that you were still unworthy, he chucked you back into the pool to begin the process again.
If, for some reason you felt that you were still unworthy of the elevated status and needed the delve deeper into the ocean that is your psyche, you could cap off the ceremony with a visit to the Royal Barbers.
So, regarding to The Smith Family Four:
Shellbacks now are we
One with locks still flowing
And BALD are the other three!
We arrive in Mauritius on the 18th. We are at port for only 12 hours then back to sea for 6 days on our way to Cape Town!
Friday, March 15, 2013
Neptune Day
The practice of " crossing the line" is a ceremony that commemorates a person's first crossing of the equator by ship. Those who have already crossed are nicknamed "Shellbacks" and those who have not are called " Pollywogs". The day a ship crosses the equator is referred to as " Neptune Day". The ceremony features King Neptune, Queen Minerva and a court of Shellbacks.
The event is a ritual that dates back to the early 1800's in which the shipboard crew indoctrinate the slimy Pollywogs into the mysteries of the deep.
Pollywogs are summoned before King Neptune, interrogated and asked to recite a poem regarding their worthiness. Pollywogs are then commanded to perform a series of tasks in order to be anointed as a proper Shellback. Oftentimes, as a matter of true respect for the sea, some Pollywogs visit the "royal barbers" to shave their heads in celebratory gesture.
Today is Neptune Day on the MVExplorer. Pictures forthcoming...YIKES! ; )
Sent from my iPad
The event is a ritual that dates back to the early 1800's in which the shipboard crew indoctrinate the slimy Pollywogs into the mysteries of the deep.
Pollywogs are summoned before King Neptune, interrogated and asked to recite a poem regarding their worthiness. Pollywogs are then commanded to perform a series of tasks in order to be anointed as a proper Shellback. Oftentimes, as a matter of true respect for the sea, some Pollywogs visit the "royal barbers" to shave their heads in celebratory gesture.
Today is Neptune Day on the MVExplorer. Pictures forthcoming...YIKES! ; )
Sent from my iPad
Monday, March 11, 2013
India Revisited
The second day in India was much better in the fact that both boys had a good night's sleep and felt like 999,950 bucks! We ate breakfast and caught a cab to the hotel where our field trip, "The Art of Living", was already in progress.
We only missed the morning session, so we were confident we could catch up quickly and immerse ourselves into this new practice. But we ended up with an old fogie for a yogi.
She was not pleased that we arrived late and said she would not allow us to participate. Ok. Fair enough, but we just wish she let us know not to come if that was the case. Then she eyed Benjamin and asked what he was going to do. He was too young to attend the class at all. Surprised by that information as well and visibly upset, we packed up our things to leave. She tried to bring us back in saying that she would make an exception but Ben would only be allowed to sit on a mat and watch. No thanks!
We stayed in the hotel anyway and ate our meals since we had paid for all of it in advance. We spent the rest of the day at the mall and saw the new Bruce Willis movie, "A Good Day T Die Hard". I don't know if it was the circumstances that led us to seeking a slice of Americana, but I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and highly recommend it! ; )
Went back to the ship the next day which feels more and more like home with each and every port. We picked up our friend, Chrissy (another alum and Life Long Learner) and headed out for Jew Town. Don't stone me! That's what they call it! It is where the Jews first settled in India and its claim to fame is that they have the oldest synagog in all of India. Still, with all it's historical ties and the pride they have in calling it "Jew Town", it's still unsettling for us and most people from our ship only say it with volume just above a whisper ; ) We did some shopping at the "No Haggle" stores. Don't let the name fool you! It's haggle central. At one point, a store keeper asked me to just come inside and have a look. I didn't fall for it and instead, gently told him that I would be back. "NO ONE COMES BACK!" was his response to me. Hmmm....I wonder why.
That night we were probably 4 of 100 people on the ship. We had a leisurely dinner. Jeremy and Ben played "Halo" in one of the classrooms with our friend, Hassan. He is a junior at The College of William and Mary and just happens to be from Pakistan. He was not granted a visa from the Indian government so he was stuck on the ship for 6 days! Afterward, we played cards... "Pass The Ace" and "Spit" with Chrissy while a student entertained us at the piano. A very nice evening.
The following day....oh my gosh, was it hot! We thought we'd go into the city for a quick shopping spree. After several hours, we left empty handed, dirty, annoyed and exhausted. Dodging traffic, managing the language barrier, haggling, converting rupees, fighting the crowds. You'd know we are a close family seeing us squeezed into a 2 person auto rickshaw (tuc-tuc) on a day in march in Cochin, India where we were told that "the mercury had not risen this high in the month of March for 4000 years"! We needed a break!
We read about a "secluded" beach not yet overrun with tourists that was only a ferry ride away. It was about 15 minutes and we arrived at Vypeen Island. We asked one of the waiting tuc-tuc drivers to take us to Cherai Beach. The book failed to mention that from the ferry drop off, the beach is about a 45 minute ride. Ok...onward. Chris got the driver to accept a lower price than where the haggling first started and we again layered ourselves very cozily into the diesel run tuc-tuc. Did I mention that the heat made the place extremely dusty? Well, it did. I was never so happy to have Ben in my lap. I used him to block all the flying debris that enveloped us during the entire ride. And what a ride! Exactly like a video game, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic, slaloming through potholes and pedestrians.
As we drove through the beach town it was obviously very popular with the locals. The book said it was still unknown to tourists but a lot of India sure knows about it! But the driver took us to a restaurant/beach hangout called, Chilli-Out. Owned by a young couple from France, it was a European cuisine grill with a clean beach, clean restrooms and a tropical island buildout that made it just perfect. To top it off, it had...WIFI!
We sat underneath a bamboo hut on bamboo chairs and the boys rented boogie boards and swam in the Arabian Sea. It was a great end to a long day. And although it started storming even cutting off the electricity (wifi), it was still the most beautiful spot we'd visited.
The next day was Sunday and we'd arranged for Rajeesh, our cab driver from the day before to take us to mass at the Santa Cruz Basilica. We befriended Rajeesh the second day we were in port. He is a taxi driver/tour guide and very good at what he does. In talking with him, we learned that his sister and family live in Cumming, GA! Small world. He called her and had Chris speak to her for a while. He gave us her number and asked us to get in touch with her when we get back home. I'm sure that although we were strangers, our meeting made him feel a little closer to his sister who he has not seen for 2 years.
Santa Cruz Basilica was first erected by the Portuguese in the 1500's, Pope John Paul II elevated it to Basilica status in 1984. It was very interesting attending mass in a different language. We could recognize the different parts of the mass and tried to participate in English but got very distracted by the rest of the congregation speaking in Malaymalam, the language spoken here in Cochin. A great experience nonetheless.
Afterward, we thought we'd reward ourselves and check into a nice hotel for our last night in India. We pulled into the Vivanta Hotel on Willingdon Island. We ate some great food, lounged by the pool, caught up via wifi, watched a movie and even had a private yoga session where no one yelled at us. I told Chris that it felt a little but like a cop out. Here we were, in this exotic country and we were settling into our western ways. But I let myself off the hook by realizing that we just need a break sometimes. We need some normalcy to get the travel juices flowing again.
So here I sit on our last day in India, overlooking the Arabian Sea (and the container rigs which load the barges). There is Hindu chanting being broadcast from across the way, my skin is moist from the humidity, Ben is getting a swimming lesson from a 40-something Indian man who has befriended him and I'm thinking I'm ready to move on. I don't think we gave India a fair shake but we did have some obstacles that helped in that regard. We probably should come back and explore beyond Cochin. I'm sure we have not even touched the surface of what this country has to offer.
We only missed the morning session, so we were confident we could catch up quickly and immerse ourselves into this new practice. But we ended up with an old fogie for a yogi.
She was not pleased that we arrived late and said she would not allow us to participate. Ok. Fair enough, but we just wish she let us know not to come if that was the case. Then she eyed Benjamin and asked what he was going to do. He was too young to attend the class at all. Surprised by that information as well and visibly upset, we packed up our things to leave. She tried to bring us back in saying that she would make an exception but Ben would only be allowed to sit on a mat and watch. No thanks!
We stayed in the hotel anyway and ate our meals since we had paid for all of it in advance. We spent the rest of the day at the mall and saw the new Bruce Willis movie, "A Good Day T Die Hard". I don't know if it was the circumstances that led us to seeking a slice of Americana, but I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and highly recommend it! ; )
Went back to the ship the next day which feels more and more like home with each and every port. We picked up our friend, Chrissy (another alum and Life Long Learner) and headed out for Jew Town. Don't stone me! That's what they call it! It is where the Jews first settled in India and its claim to fame is that they have the oldest synagog in all of India. Still, with all it's historical ties and the pride they have in calling it "Jew Town", it's still unsettling for us and most people from our ship only say it with volume just above a whisper ; ) We did some shopping at the "No Haggle" stores. Don't let the name fool you! It's haggle central. At one point, a store keeper asked me to just come inside and have a look. I didn't fall for it and instead, gently told him that I would be back. "NO ONE COMES BACK!" was his response to me. Hmmm....I wonder why.
That night we were probably 4 of 100 people on the ship. We had a leisurely dinner. Jeremy and Ben played "Halo" in one of the classrooms with our friend, Hassan. He is a junior at The College of William and Mary and just happens to be from Pakistan. He was not granted a visa from the Indian government so he was stuck on the ship for 6 days! Afterward, we played cards... "Pass The Ace" and "Spit" with Chrissy while a student entertained us at the piano. A very nice evening.
The following day....oh my gosh, was it hot! We thought we'd go into the city for a quick shopping spree. After several hours, we left empty handed, dirty, annoyed and exhausted. Dodging traffic, managing the language barrier, haggling, converting rupees, fighting the crowds. You'd know we are a close family seeing us squeezed into a 2 person auto rickshaw (tuc-tuc) on a day in march in Cochin, India where we were told that "the mercury had not risen this high in the month of March for 4000 years"! We needed a break!
We read about a "secluded" beach not yet overrun with tourists that was only a ferry ride away. It was about 15 minutes and we arrived at Vypeen Island. We asked one of the waiting tuc-tuc drivers to take us to Cherai Beach. The book failed to mention that from the ferry drop off, the beach is about a 45 minute ride. Ok...onward. Chris got the driver to accept a lower price than where the haggling first started and we again layered ourselves very cozily into the diesel run tuc-tuc. Did I mention that the heat made the place extremely dusty? Well, it did. I was never so happy to have Ben in my lap. I used him to block all the flying debris that enveloped us during the entire ride. And what a ride! Exactly like a video game, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic, slaloming through potholes and pedestrians.
As we drove through the beach town it was obviously very popular with the locals. The book said it was still unknown to tourists but a lot of India sure knows about it! But the driver took us to a restaurant/beach hangout called, Chilli-Out. Owned by a young couple from France, it was a European cuisine grill with a clean beach, clean restrooms and a tropical island buildout that made it just perfect. To top it off, it had...WIFI!
We sat underneath a bamboo hut on bamboo chairs and the boys rented boogie boards and swam in the Arabian Sea. It was a great end to a long day. And although it started storming even cutting off the electricity (wifi), it was still the most beautiful spot we'd visited.
The next day was Sunday and we'd arranged for Rajeesh, our cab driver from the day before to take us to mass at the Santa Cruz Basilica. We befriended Rajeesh the second day we were in port. He is a taxi driver/tour guide and very good at what he does. In talking with him, we learned that his sister and family live in Cumming, GA! Small world. He called her and had Chris speak to her for a while. He gave us her number and asked us to get in touch with her when we get back home. I'm sure that although we were strangers, our meeting made him feel a little closer to his sister who he has not seen for 2 years.
Santa Cruz Basilica was first erected by the Portuguese in the 1500's, Pope John Paul II elevated it to Basilica status in 1984. It was very interesting attending mass in a different language. We could recognize the different parts of the mass and tried to participate in English but got very distracted by the rest of the congregation speaking in Malaymalam, the language spoken here in Cochin. A great experience nonetheless.
Afterward, we thought we'd reward ourselves and check into a nice hotel for our last night in India. We pulled into the Vivanta Hotel on Willingdon Island. We ate some great food, lounged by the pool, caught up via wifi, watched a movie and even had a private yoga session where no one yelled at us. I told Chris that it felt a little but like a cop out. Here we were, in this exotic country and we were settling into our western ways. But I let myself off the hook by realizing that we just need a break sometimes. We need some normalcy to get the travel juices flowing again.
So here I sit on our last day in India, overlooking the Arabian Sea (and the container rigs which load the barges). There is Hindu chanting being broadcast from across the way, my skin is moist from the humidity, Ben is getting a swimming lesson from a 40-something Indian man who has befriended him and I'm thinking I'm ready to move on. I don't think we gave India a fair shake but we did have some obstacles that helped in that regard. We probably should come back and explore beyond Cochin. I'm sure we have not even touched the surface of what this country has to offer.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
India
We arrived in Cochin, India this morning around 8:00. Like China, there was a different smell to the air.
I was nervous to visit this country. I'd heard stories, especially from Chris, about how different a place this is. Beggars, pick pockets, hustlers all making their rupees by taking advantage of tourists. Aggressiveness in the bazars and toward women in general. The advise is that females should wear long sleeves and pants or skirts that cover the knees otherwise you can be mistaken as promiscuous. Warning upon warning of the unsanitary conditions. Only drink bottled water but make sure the bottle is sealed. Inspect the bottom to ensure it has not been tampered with. If your plate at a restaurant is wet, wipe it off because that small amount can cause severe GI problems.
We went to breakfast. Jeremy was late and Ben was not acting like Ben. We signed up for the Cochin City Cycling tour making us one of the first groups called to immigration. Jeremy dragged himself out of bed and Ben now had a stomach ache.
We stepped off the ship and were greeted by Indian drummers and dancers. The sun was beating down on us and the air was thick with humidity. Jeremy turned a lighter shade of white and Ben wasn't sure he could make it.
On the bus, waiting for the last passenger, Ben bailed out. Sick to his stomach. We did some shuffling of paperwork so that Ben and I could re-board the ship and Chris and Jeremy could continue on with the tour group. We realized we had "Jeffery" Smith's landing card and not Jeremy's! Not good as this is what India acknowledges as your ID card. Mad scramble to find Jeffery who was either on one of the 20 tour buses or on the ship. We tracked him down and he couldn't have been more surprised that he had the wrong landing card.
Returned to Ben who had just lost his breakfast.
Chris and Jeremy returned to the ship after only half of the cycling tour. Jeremy turned a nice shade of gray as he cycled through the city before calling it quits. Just before re-boarding, he saw his dinner again from last night.
There were 50 cases of GI illnesses reported to the ship's doc after leaving Myanmar. The Smiths made 52 but I saw at least 4 more people who stayed on the ship today for the same reason.
We'll see how tonight goes. Docked on Willingdon Island just to the west of Cochin, we will admire India from across the Arabian Sea, for now.
I was nervous to visit this country. I'd heard stories, especially from Chris, about how different a place this is. Beggars, pick pockets, hustlers all making their rupees by taking advantage of tourists. Aggressiveness in the bazars and toward women in general. The advise is that females should wear long sleeves and pants or skirts that cover the knees otherwise you can be mistaken as promiscuous. Warning upon warning of the unsanitary conditions. Only drink bottled water but make sure the bottle is sealed. Inspect the bottom to ensure it has not been tampered with. If your plate at a restaurant is wet, wipe it off because that small amount can cause severe GI problems.
We went to breakfast. Jeremy was late and Ben was not acting like Ben. We signed up for the Cochin City Cycling tour making us one of the first groups called to immigration. Jeremy dragged himself out of bed and Ben now had a stomach ache.
We stepped off the ship and were greeted by Indian drummers and dancers. The sun was beating down on us and the air was thick with humidity. Jeremy turned a lighter shade of white and Ben wasn't sure he could make it.
On the bus, waiting for the last passenger, Ben bailed out. Sick to his stomach. We did some shuffling of paperwork so that Ben and I could re-board the ship and Chris and Jeremy could continue on with the tour group. We realized we had "Jeffery" Smith's landing card and not Jeremy's! Not good as this is what India acknowledges as your ID card. Mad scramble to find Jeffery who was either on one of the 20 tour buses or on the ship. We tracked him down and he couldn't have been more surprised that he had the wrong landing card.
Returned to Ben who had just lost his breakfast.
Chris and Jeremy returned to the ship after only half of the cycling tour. Jeremy turned a nice shade of gray as he cycled through the city before calling it quits. Just before re-boarding, he saw his dinner again from last night.
There were 50 cases of GI illnesses reported to the ship's doc after leaving Myanmar. The Smiths made 52 but I saw at least 4 more people who stayed on the ship today for the same reason.
We'll see how tonight goes. Docked on Willingdon Island just to the west of Cochin, we will admire India from across the Arabian Sea, for now.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Last Day In Myanmar
The next morning in Mt Kyaiktiyo was the most beautiful I'd seen in my life. Just beyond the white shutters of our room was a thick carpet of clouds so opaque you could be tempted to lie in it. The sun was a vibrant orange so brilliant it shined an orange layer of light above the clouds.
We leisurely gathered our things for checking out, had a few minutes of wifi and ate a delicious Myanmar breakfast of eggs and fried rice. We complimented the hotel manager on the way out and thanked him for their gracious hospitality.
"Where do you go next?" he asked.
"We'll take the truck down the mountain to catch a 12:00 bus back to Yangon." Chis told him.
"You can not ride this truck. It is only for locals. No foreigners."
WHAT?!!! We explained that we arrived on that very same truck just yesterday. His response, "You were lucky they took you. Only for locals."
The only other way down is by foot which typically takes 4 hours. It was 10:00 and our bus to Yangon was leaving in 2 hours from the bottom of the mountain! Hearts pumping, minds racing, Chris and I looked at each other in complete shock!
Peering over his laptop, a gentleman looking very much like a local said to us in an undeniable Australian accent, "You can take the truck. Just go back to where they dropped you and they will let you on. "
Even with a disbelieving hotel manager shaking his head, we dropped our shoulders and thanked the man profusely!
The ride down was somewhat of a disappointment. As wild and dangerous as the uphill climb was, we were ready for more of the same and looking forward to it. The driver was much more cautious this time and we made it to the bottom barely having the urge to hoot or holler.
We reached the Kaung San Restaurant, our accommodations/eatery from the day before, and were warmly greeted by the ladies who shooed us down the ride that early morning. They fed us lunch and took pictures with us. Ben shared a bag of M&Ms that we had in our snack stash eventually handing over the bag to one girl who seemed to enjoy them the most. The boys spent the rest of the time waiting for the bus playing Myanmar hacky sack in an alley behind the restaurant. We've figured out that sports breaks just about any language barrier.
We prepared ourselves for another 4 hour ride back to Yangon entertained by the same popular music videos. But this time, we were headed back home. Nothing could be finer ; )
The bus stopped soon after we boarded and everyone filed off for an early pit stop...I thought. The conductor told us we could go visit the temple just across the road and the bus would leave in 20 minutes. It was a small temple out in the middle of nowhere which housed a very large reclining Buddha. It was not the largest reclining Buddha, that many flock to see, but it was pretty darned big.
Back on the bus we came to another stop just 30 minutes down the road. What's this? Another temple?! It appeared that we had purchased the "Temple Tour" as our return trip to Yangon. So instead of the 4 hour express bus we had prepared ourselves for, we had to endure the SEVEN hour tour! As Jeremy out pit it and with no disrespect intended, we were just plain "templed out"! We had to play the part though. Although we would have preferred to stay on the bus at the temples, we didn't want to appear rude.
We got back to the ship just after the dinner hour. I could have stayed in the shower for hours if we were not rationing our water. We can not use any of the ocean water until we get to Mauritius on March 18. Still, it was so nice to be home.
Our last day in Myanmar, we went on a service trip to the Suhtupan Parahita Monastic Center and Orphanage. SAS donates money to these facilities and in return, sends a bus of passengers to visit with the children.
The facilities were better than I expected but probably exactly what is expected in this part of the world. They had only what they needed and not any more. The buildings seemed sturdy but run down and in need of some repair here and there. Cleanliness is not high on the priority list if it is on it at all. Volunteers seemed plentiful as were the stray dogs that lived on the property.
Packed into one of the classrooms, it was slow going at first trying to get to know the kids and understand them. We used simple games like "Ring Around The Rosie" or "The Hokie Pokie" that some of the younger kids enjoyed. Jeremy and Ben attracted a group of boys around the ages of 8-10 that really weren't interested in the preschool games although they were a good way to learn English. They ended up arm wrestling, thumb wrestling, making paper airplanes, taking pictures of each other, playing paper football and just laughing most of the time. My boys couldn't seem to get enough.
We passed out school supplies which the kids really got excited about, played a little soccer and finished the day serving their lunch. Our visit seemed to make them happy. It surely put smiles on our faces.
We left Yangon just before dinner. I have much to say about Myanmar that i can not fully put into words here. But it was my favorite country thus far. I feel sorry for this reclusive country and the people who live here but at the same time I feel envious of their fortitude. "Myanmar" means, "Strong first" which completely explains their unwavering belief in total self reliance, why they have kept themselves closed off from the rest of the world for all these years and why most of them continue to be truly happy in what we would consider a poverty stricken country.
We leisurely gathered our things for checking out, had a few minutes of wifi and ate a delicious Myanmar breakfast of eggs and fried rice. We complimented the hotel manager on the way out and thanked him for their gracious hospitality.
"Where do you go next?" he asked.
"We'll take the truck down the mountain to catch a 12:00 bus back to Yangon." Chis told him.
"You can not ride this truck. It is only for locals. No foreigners."
WHAT?!!! We explained that we arrived on that very same truck just yesterday. His response, "You were lucky they took you. Only for locals."
The only other way down is by foot which typically takes 4 hours. It was 10:00 and our bus to Yangon was leaving in 2 hours from the bottom of the mountain! Hearts pumping, minds racing, Chris and I looked at each other in complete shock!
Peering over his laptop, a gentleman looking very much like a local said to us in an undeniable Australian accent, "You can take the truck. Just go back to where they dropped you and they will let you on. "
Even with a disbelieving hotel manager shaking his head, we dropped our shoulders and thanked the man profusely!
The ride down was somewhat of a disappointment. As wild and dangerous as the uphill climb was, we were ready for more of the same and looking forward to it. The driver was much more cautious this time and we made it to the bottom barely having the urge to hoot or holler.
We reached the Kaung San Restaurant, our accommodations/eatery from the day before, and were warmly greeted by the ladies who shooed us down the ride that early morning. They fed us lunch and took pictures with us. Ben shared a bag of M&Ms that we had in our snack stash eventually handing over the bag to one girl who seemed to enjoy them the most. The boys spent the rest of the time waiting for the bus playing Myanmar hacky sack in an alley behind the restaurant. We've figured out that sports breaks just about any language barrier.
We prepared ourselves for another 4 hour ride back to Yangon entertained by the same popular music videos. But this time, we were headed back home. Nothing could be finer ; )
The bus stopped soon after we boarded and everyone filed off for an early pit stop...I thought. The conductor told us we could go visit the temple just across the road and the bus would leave in 20 minutes. It was a small temple out in the middle of nowhere which housed a very large reclining Buddha. It was not the largest reclining Buddha, that many flock to see, but it was pretty darned big.
Back on the bus we came to another stop just 30 minutes down the road. What's this? Another temple?! It appeared that we had purchased the "Temple Tour" as our return trip to Yangon. So instead of the 4 hour express bus we had prepared ourselves for, we had to endure the SEVEN hour tour! As Jeremy out pit it and with no disrespect intended, we were just plain "templed out"! We had to play the part though. Although we would have preferred to stay on the bus at the temples, we didn't want to appear rude.
We got back to the ship just after the dinner hour. I could have stayed in the shower for hours if we were not rationing our water. We can not use any of the ocean water until we get to Mauritius on March 18. Still, it was so nice to be home.
Our last day in Myanmar, we went on a service trip to the Suhtupan Parahita Monastic Center and Orphanage. SAS donates money to these facilities and in return, sends a bus of passengers to visit with the children.
The facilities were better than I expected but probably exactly what is expected in this part of the world. They had only what they needed and not any more. The buildings seemed sturdy but run down and in need of some repair here and there. Cleanliness is not high on the priority list if it is on it at all. Volunteers seemed plentiful as were the stray dogs that lived on the property.
Packed into one of the classrooms, it was slow going at first trying to get to know the kids and understand them. We used simple games like "Ring Around The Rosie" or "The Hokie Pokie" that some of the younger kids enjoyed. Jeremy and Ben attracted a group of boys around the ages of 8-10 that really weren't interested in the preschool games although they were a good way to learn English. They ended up arm wrestling, thumb wrestling, making paper airplanes, taking pictures of each other, playing paper football and just laughing most of the time. My boys couldn't seem to get enough.
We passed out school supplies which the kids really got excited about, played a little soccer and finished the day serving their lunch. Our visit seemed to make them happy. It surely put smiles on our faces.
We left Yangon just before dinner. I have much to say about Myanmar that i can not fully put into words here. But it was my favorite country thus far. I feel sorry for this reclusive country and the people who live here but at the same time I feel envious of their fortitude. "Myanmar" means, "Strong first" which completely explains their unwavering belief in total self reliance, why they have kept themselves closed off from the rest of the world for all these years and why most of them continue to be truly happy in what we would consider a poverty stricken country.
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