A Reflection of Sorts

I've been trying to write this for the past two months but try as I might, I just can't seem to be able to put into words the complexities of everything I experienced. So I present this to you as it is, nothing more than mere words, that despite the beautiful complexity of the English language, could never do justice to what I wish I could express.

My last sight of the ship, the MV Explorer, was from the airplane as I left San Diego for Denver. I thought I had said my goodbyes, but in some cruel twist of irony, there she was, right outside my window, sitting there in all her beauty as I was whisked away. That moment, watching her sit in port as we ascended, was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever experienced, which is probably pretty selfish considering everything I saw. But that ship was my home, my school, a place of familiarity and safety on the other side of the world, the place where all of my friends and family were; that ship was my entire life. And there I was, watching as she became smaller and smaller and wondering if I would ever see her again.

I walked off the airplane at DIA wearing Indian pants, a SAS hoodie, and sporting a stack of nine Vietnamese rice paddy hats on my head. I attracted some pretty curious looks, and I deserved and was proud of every one of them.

That first night back was everything I thought it would be, as I shared stories of my adventures and was welcomed back by my family and friends. But the homesickness for the life I had come to know for the past four months set in quicker than I thought it would. That first night back everyone eventually drifted off to bed, and I was ultimately left alone. Completely alone. For the first time in four months. It had never occurred to me how every moment of my life for the past four months there had constantly been people around. Whether I was enjoying their company, or just working on my computer while they sat nearby, or sleeping in my room with my roommate sleeping a few feet away, there were always people. And suddenly, for the first time in four months I was aware of nothing but the fact that there was no one. It was so bizarre. I had never thought about how lonely it would be not having 800 people around constantly. That first night back I sat and watched TV in my mom’s room while she slept because I couldn’t handle the emptiness.

The other thing that got to me pretty quickly was the lack of movement. I lived on a ship, and after a certain amount of time, the constant swaying just became second nature. There were a few nights after I got back when I just layed in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why everything had to be so eerily still, so still that it was impossible to sleep. It still feels too still sometimes, and I find myself wondering if the literal stillness really bothers me all that much, or if it is just a metaphor for how motionless my life has suddenly become.

And slowly, as the novelty of being back wares off (which was actually pretty quickly) more things trickle together into one big mess of things I miss. Things like:

• Being trapped in the same small space with 800 other people and thus never having a moment alone.
• Being cut off from technology
• Communication meaning face-to-face
• Stargazing on the 7^th deck
• Stuart’s voice
• 23-hour days
• Alibaba pants being chic
• Stealing grapes from the Garden Lounge in my water bottle
• Grumbling about not wanting to get out of bed and go to class a few feet away
• Stressing over what to do in the next port
• Late nights in the Piano Lounge
• Doing laundry in the bathroom sink
• Hearing a knock on my door instead of a cell phone buzz
• Bridge reports
• Nalbach’s powerpoints
• Captain Krstanovic’s red glasses
• Sunrises over port
• Sneaking into the Glacier Lounge to watch said sunrises
• Sneaking onto the observation deck when it was still closed off to watch said sunrises when the excitement was just too great to wait any longer
• Green sheets
• Living with all of my best friends
• Achiles and the rest of our amazing crew
• New towels every four days
• LeFevre ending every class with “YAAAY!!!”
• Ice cream cones on deck 7
• Everyone stumbling around like drunkards when the seas got rough
• Leaving my computer sitting in the hallway for hours on end to load an email with too many pictures
• Outrageous rumors, like when North Korea declared war on the US
• Whale sightings
• Military time
• Lifeboat drills
• Humidity
• Being rocked to sleep by the swaying of the ship
• Always waking up in a new place
• All of the above becoming so routine that we actually couldn’t wait to get off the ship

Most of all I miss that feeling of being alive, of never knowing what adventures tomorrow would bring, of seeing everything with amazement and wonder, of relishing every little moment because there was always something to be excited about. I miss the constant adrenalin and adventure.

Everyday it seems more and more like a dream. Everyday the mundaneness of ordinary life takes a stronger hold and I find myself living less and less in the moment and more and more in the memories of what was the greatest adventure anyone could ever hope for.

Since I got home I have refused to touch pasta or potatoes, but I would happily eat nothing but pasta and potatoes for an eternity if it meant being with everyone again and sailing to someplace new.

Being back home has been more of a culture shock than any traveling I have ever done, because when you travel, you expect things to be different. What you don’t expect, is to return back home and find someplace completely foreign, because traveling has changed the way you see things, and interpret the world. What used to be my humble little college house is now a house far more grand than the little shacks and huts that the majority of the people I met lived in. what used to be an ordinary lunch is now far more food than a family in Africa would ever hope to see in a day, maybe even a week. Where I used to see an immigrant worker who would move here without even bothering to learn English, I now see a person who somehow managed to escape a harsh and cruel life, and now has a chance to provide something better for his or her family. Where I used to see designer clothing, expensive jewelry, and fancy cars, I now see nothing but consumerism, superficial happiness, and the sad reality that all that the majority of people care about is wealth and personal gain.

A couple weeks after my return, my work flew me out to Minneapolis for our biannual conference. At the end of it all we had a lavish dinner for hundreds of attendees, the cost of which was $50 per person. As I sat there in the ballroom of the Hilton, eating my $50 endive salad, I remembered a little girl in Ghana, who not so long ago had joined my friends and I for dinner during our stay in her homeland. We had forgotten about her momentarily as we ate all that we desired, but after we were finished we looked over at her to find her still eating the same chicken leg she had been given, gnawing at the cartilage for every last scrap of sustenance she could scavenge. What I wouldn’t have done to send that $50 to her and her family.

I was asked recently by my uncle if traveling the world made me feel small, if seeing what a big place the world is made me feel tiny and insignificant. I can see how it would be easy to feel that way, but the truth is I feel quite the opposite, and not in a good way. I come from a country that everyone turns to and admires. I have the resources to travel, and to find enjoyment in what is nothing but harsh reality for the people who live there. Although I come from a relatively poor family by American standards, in many of these countries I had enough money to do whatever I pleased, while those who lived there had to labor tirelessly for their next meal. It is hard to feel small under such circumstances. I feel disgustingly spoiled. Someone told me that I was spoiled for getting to go on this trip before I left, and although it was true, I felt somewhat hurt because I had put so much into being able to make this happen. I don’t have rich parents who were able to pay for it for me; I had to come up with every penny myself. But now I see that that’s not the point. I am spoiled. Even if I had to work to make it happen, the fact that I did make it happen means I’ve had more of an advantage than the majority of the world. 

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to experience such an incredible adventure, to see the world, to live on a ship, and to meet some of the most inspiring people I have ever known. To Semester at Sea, my friends, and my family: thank you for giving me the world.

Debarkation Today. I Can't Believe This Is It.

25,117 Nautical Miles

This is what shuffle brings up on my iPod: 

"But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a thousand, miles to fall down at your door..." 

Sorry Proclaimers, I have you beat.

"If I could fall, into the sky, do you think time, would pass me by? Cuz you know I'd walk a thousand miles, if I could just see you tonight." 

Sorry Vanessa Carlton, I've got you beat too. 

Because by the time we dock in San Diego tomorrow morning I will have sailed 25,117 nautical miles. 

"Sweet dreams are made of these; who am I to disagree? I traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for something." 

Well, I Just Finished My Last Final,

meaning I am officially a senior. I'll be 21 in just over a month. And I don't know if I mentioned this or not, but in four days time I will have traveled in one giant circle around the world. No big deal.

Ready for Some Scuba Fun in Hilo

 

 

I'm Coming Home

I'm coming home,
I'm coming home,
Tell the world I'm coming home,
Let the rain wash away,
All the pain of yesterday,
I know my kingdom awaits,
And they've forgiven my mistakes,
I'm coming home,
I'm coming home,
Tell the world I'm coming...

Our ship leaves in 40 minutes and I will officially be home-bound. It was so strange to be back on US soil today, where everyone speaks English, and the highways are a huge waste of space; where I don't have to calculate the exchange rate every time I make a purchase, and everything just seems eerily familiar for still being half an ocean away from home.

P.S. I'll have cellphone service for the next 40 minutes, until we leave, if anyone wants to text/call me. :)

The Best Thing I Ate In: Japan

 

This has to be one of the most amazing things I've ever tasted. I decided I wanted to go to Harajuku, being in Tokyo for the third time and having never been there, and so rounded up a few friends and headed there via the subway, or train, or some combination of the two. I don't remember. The public transportation system in Tokyo is total chaos. There is the train system, there is a publicly owned subway system, there is a privately owned subway system, and there are several other random lines. They all interconnect in completely bizarre ways so that you have to have a handful of maps of each system to figure out how to get anywhere. So we made it to Harajuku, decided to have lunch before exploring, and I set about asking where we might find Kaiten Zushi, because conveyer belt sushi is the funnest thing ever and I hadn't had it yet this trip. Trying to find anything at all in Tokyo is a task in itself. Knowing some Japanese, asking and getting directions was never too difficult, but Tokyo is such a complex city that even the locals never know how to direct you toward what you are looking for. 

After a bit of a walk, we finally found what we were looking for, only after having bumped into a handful of other SAS students and picking them up along the way. I think there were about a dozen or so of us by the time we found the place. I sat down at the conveyer belt bar, and the fun began. I love Kaiten Zushi. The plates are all color coded so you know how much they cost, anywhere from $2 to $8 at this place (or up to $50 for a single plate if you go to one of the fancy restaurants). The sushi chefs are still right there preparing raw fish on rice, and once they are finished with their creations, they put them on the conveyer belt and round they go. So you have all of these delicious pieces of sushi rolling around and past you and you just watch in glee with your mouth watering, wondering how you will ever decide which to try first. 

This plate is tomago, or egg, topped off with some avocado, a couple shrimp, a bit of crab meat, a touch of fish roe, a drizzle of mayo, I don't even know what else but it was simply divine. I never used to like egg sushi, it used to freak me out for some unfathomable reason, but it is really really yummy. It doesn't even taste like egg but more like custard, and topped off with all of this goodness it was positively exquisite . 

My Favorite Country

Before I left home the most common question I encountered was "Which country are you most excited for?" Or even when I was on the ship in those early days, "Which country are you most excited for?" The answer to that question was always whichever country happened to be next on our itinerary, because that was honestly the only country I could focus on. When we first boarded I would say "Dominica," after that it turned to "Brazil." Now that I have actually been to all of these incredible places, I know I am about to come home to an even more challenging question, "Which country was your favorite?" I'm going to answer that right now. And my response is that I could never possibly answer that question. I loved all of these places, for completely different reasons. Some of them were my favorite because of the things a saw, some were my favorite because of what I experienced, some were my favorite because of the people I was traveling with, some were my favorite because of the people I met. So here is my answer to that loaded question:

My favorite country was Dominica because of its pristine beauty. It was in every sense, a paradise. And it took me completely by surprise. I have been to a fair number of islands scattered throughout the Caribbean and thought I knew what to expect from tropical islands. I was thrown completely off guard from the moment I first stepped outside that January morning to the most stunning sunrise I have every experienced, over a lush, green, mountainous landscape.

My favorite country was Brazil because of the outlandish adventure it gave me. I slept in a hammock out in the open in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest. I fished for piranha and feasted on it for dinner. I went Cayman spotting in the pitch black night along the Amazon river.  I hiked through the rainforest and swam in the Amazon with these bizarrely alien Pink Dolphins. Brazil gave me the Indiana Jones adventure that everyone fantasizes about at some point in their lives.

My favorite country was Ghana because it gave me the rude, humiliating, awakening as to how privileged we really are. I played with so many beautiful, carefree, happy children, who more often than not don't know where their next meal is going to come from. Going without running water, or even access to clean drinking water at times, made me appreciate just how much we take for granted, and the ridiculous amount of things we think we need to survive happily, but really don't. Growing up I never had to worry about food or water; I was fed three meals a day and was lucky enough to live in a place with clean tap water. That one aspect alone, that I never even thought to appreciate it was such a given, made me more privileged than the majority of the world. We hear that everyday but it is impossible to understand the full weight of it until you have seen it.

My favorite country was South Africa because it was the place that I could most easily see myself going back to live in for an extended period of time, and that is because I was comfortable there; everything was familiar on some level or another. Not only that but it was beautiful. It had the mountainous landscape that I have grown up with and would never want to live without, and the ocean. I got to hike to the top of Table Mountain and see the most breathtaking landscape before me, and then go diving with the magnificent Great White Sharks.

My favorite country was Mauritius because it was a small unexpected gift that was given to us out of the generosity of our amazing staff and crew here on Semester at Sea. Also, being a scuba diver, I have an insurmountable appreciation for marine life and any small island culture where the ocean plays such a significant role, whether as a source of food or in the economical role of ecotourism.

My favorite country was India because it pushed me to deal with being in a place that is so different it is uncomfortable at times, and I came out a stronger and more self-aware person for it. I have romanticized this place for so long and in return it stripped me of every little familiar aspect of life that we cling to when we travel as something that is not different. There is a point of ecstasy when you first arrive in a new place, when you are so excited that you don't have time to feel the discomfort of how foreign it is. It is only after some time there, after the initial glee wares off that you realize you don't know where you are, or how you are supposed to act, or what you are even supposed to do, and that is when you begin to become a stronger person. That is when a country truly teaches you its lessons. That is the true beauty of travel, and what India did to me.

My favorite country was Singapore because for a day I ran around and became a kid again. I visited Universal Studios, walked into the worlds of my favorite movies, got super psyched over the insanely advanced technology (they have magical electronic paper!), ate the spiciest meal of this entire trip, saw the view from the top of their most iconic high rise, and stood just outside the gate of their world-famous infinity pool. Singapore may not have been much different than any other big city, but it was a day of pure fun where I could gawk in amazement at everything with pure, childlike wonder.

My favorite country was Vietnam for two different reasons. First, because for the first time I experienced true backpacker culture, and it was exciting! I stayed in one hostel after another, surrounded by people my age who have been traveling for months on end simply for the enjoyment of it. I met incredible people from all over the world (which is ironic that that's what was exciting considering that's what I've been doing this entire trip), and heard their stories of their travels and realized just how easy traveling really is. I was inspired. Secondly, Vietnam showed me the true devastation of war. out of all of US history, I have always had this grim fascination with the Vietnam War, and visiting the Cu Chi Tunnels and the War Remnants Museum was a more moving  and horrifying experience than I could ever justifiably describe in a simple paragraph.

My favorite countries were Hong Kong and China, because they were an unexpected chaotic string of mishaps and surprises that somehow meshed together into one unbelievable experience. In fact, China was probably the most I have enjoyed myself, which is insane considering it was just one big series of mistakes and setbacks and language barriers after another (It's a long story). We were given an entire week, longer than any other port, to travel across one of the biggest countries in the world. I had no plans whatsoever until literally the night before, but I spent that week traveling with three of my favorite people on this ship, one of whom had ancestors that grew up in a virtually unknown city that we visited to pay our respects. And the street food was to die for. I still think about China's street food constantly. 

My favorite country  was Japan because I returned home. It was my third time in Japan, I knew the country, by this point I knew the ins and outs of traveling, and I just spent an incredible few days bumming around Tokyo and doing and eating everything I have missed the most. Japan hasn't changed a bit. It will always be a home away from home; someplace familiar and welcoming despite its being an entire world away from the US, as much in culture and customs as in distance. 

If you ask me what my favorite country was when I get home, don't expect a simple answer. My escapades in all of these places were so different, and they were all crucial to my overall experience. 

The Best Thing I Ate In: Brazil

 

Piranha! 

Yes, that is a piranha hiding under all those hard-boiled eggs and lime wedges. 

You'll like this story; I don't think I've told it yet. So this one time, smack dab in the middle of the Amazon river, a group of us were chilling out on river boats by day and sleeping in hammocks by night. We had this guide, Marcos, who had been told that part of his job was to take us piranha fishing. So the group of us moved from the river boats into little canoes and set out sailing down the Amazon into the areas where the piranhas like to hang out. We were handed long bamboo sticks with fishing line and raw meat tied at the end. I must say, it took great coordination with so many of us in this little boat to not smack each other with the bamboo sticks.

There is a certain technique to piranha fishing. You have to splash the end of the bamboo into the water really fast a few times to get the piranha's attention, and then let it sit for a minute and let the meat sink. There we all were, splashing the water with bamboo sticks, and it starts pouring. Remember, we are in the Amazon; it doesn't just rain, it pours. So we are all sitting there, soaking wet, desperately waiting for a bite when one of us starts yelling all excitedly that they caught something. They pull in their bamboo stick and there is a little fish hopping about at the end. I don't remember what it was but it wasn't a piranha. There are a couple more false alarms and we are all soaked and discouraged and wondering why in the world we are out in the middle of the Amazon in the pouring rain, trying to catch piranhas with bamboo sticks. And then it happens. I feel a tug and give the stick a yank and up comes a piranha bigger than I've ever seen (I always thought they were little things). Marcos somehow manages to pull the hook out of its razor-sharp jaw and puts it in the bow of the boat where it flops about violently for the entire ride back to the riverboats. 

We had a couple family members of our tour guides with us back on the riverboats who graciously cooked us home-made meals three times a day. For dinner that night, we feasted on my piranha. It was unlike any fish I've every had before. There really was not much flesh at all, but the flavor was unbelievable. And that is the story of how I ate piranha in the Amazon. 

The Best Thing I Ate In: Dominica

 

I suspect you're missing my stories of port as much as I'm missing decent food so I've decided to devote a post to my favorite meal from each country. It's a win-win scenario. Well not really, you get the story but I still don't get real food... 

So way back at the beginning of my trek around the world I was exploring Dominica, completely unaware at this early point in my travels as to how to go about finding the best food, and my friends and I were lucky enough to stumble by this hot dog man. He had a little cart set up on a street corner and you knew it had to be good from the crowd surrounding him. Actually, it was probably just as much the show he was putting on as the food itself. This guy could whip up a hot dog with everything you ever wanted on it in a few seconds flat. Watching his hands was a complete blur; one moment he was pulling a roll out of his cart, a few mustard squirts and flourishes later he was handing you a hot dog with the complete works. 

Back when we were still in the early stages of our voyage, I was unwilling to stray from my pescetarian ways, and so opted for his swordfish variation. In a matter of seconds he produced a long, thin roll of bread, what looked like a miniature baguette, sliced it open, smothered it with his obviously homemade swordfish and bbq sauce concoction, added some other garnishes and relishes, and handed me the result. Imagine some fusion of bbq, and that great Jamaican jerk taste that you can only find in the Caribbean, and make it into a sandwich. Mmmm. 

4/20 #2: Deja Vu

It is once again midnight on the morning of Friday, April 20, 2012. When was the last time you got to live the same day twice? It feels like the movie Groundhog Day, which ironically, is currently playing on TV. Also ironic, they played the alarm song from Groundhog Day over the intercom speakers just before 8:00 yesterday morning. I don't suppose they are planning on playing it again this morning? I just hope they don't give us the same menu in the dining halls. It was a record bad.

4/20 #1

Tonight we cross the International Dateline! That means that today is April 20, and tomorrow is also April 20.

Nothing too exciting to report. Classes are wrapping up, review is underway, which is totally bizarre because I'm just getting back into the routine of living on the ship and going to class everyday and now we're supposed to be taking finals already? How did that happen?

Meanwhile, back in Boulder - 4/20 capital of the world - I keep getting threatening emails from CU stating that checkpoints have been set up all over campus and anyone not possessing a valid Buff OneCard will be fined. Furthermore, Norlin Quad, the heart of it all, has been closed off to everyone, even people affiliated with campus, and anyone caught there will be charged with trespassing. Honestly CU, I know you're concerned with our reputation, but isn't this all a bit excessive? Was it really that detrimental of an event? I mean how much harm can a bunch of hippies sitting around in drum circles really cause? Aren't there other more important areas where these efforts could be focused? Like how about the grant money you keep telling me and countless others that we should be receiving but you don't have the funding to actually give it to us? Glad that's being put to good use.

We just had a Boulder reunion up on deck 7 which ended with us breaking out in our fight song. We are the highest represented school on this ship with 44 students. Go Buffs!

My Biggest Regret...

...is that I didn't try harder to smuggle those darn onigiri balls on board in Japan. Can't. Stomach. Any. More. Pasta. Or. Potatoes.

So who wants to airlift me a Cosmo's pizza with some spicy ranch?! :D

Pearl Tower in Shanghai

 

 

I <3 Our Crew

We seriously have the sweetest crew in existence. Our cabin steward,  Achiles, comes every other day and cleans our room for us. No matter how messy it is (and we usually try to clean it for him but it can get pretty messy between ports) he always folds everything and stacks everything neatly on the beds or counters. We usually leave him tips when we get to port and leave little sticky notes on it to say Thank You. There was one time when I just left out a bill without putting a note on it and it was still sitting there a couple days later when I came back to the ship. He didn't think it was for him.

I brought some instant noodles with me from Japan, because even those beat ship food at this point. When I went up to the Garden Lounge just now for hot water, one of the crew members came running with a plate, bowl, and soup spoon when he saw me trying to pour hot water from the tap into the makeshift bowl that they come in. I asked him if there was anywhere to pour out the hot water and he just took everything from me and made it for me. He asked where I was eating it and I said downstairs, so he stuck a fork inside and covered it with a napkin to hide it because we are not allowed to bring anything out of the dining areas. Such a sweetheart. 

100th Anniversary of Titanic

It's been 100 years since the most famous maritime event in history and I get to spend the anniversary on a ship. How fitting. I think this calls for a movie night!

Japan, Just in Time for Cherry Blossom Season

 

 

So Much Kawaii

 

 

Carmel Cookie Ice Cream: Not Nearly As Strange As Chili Pepper Ice Cream

 

 

Remember the Shrine in Memoirs of a Geisha?

 

 

It's Almost Over

I know I haven't written a proper blog post in ages, and I am sorry that this first one is such a long time is not one of the enthusiastic, exciting adventure stories that I have entertained you with for the past months, but it is an aspect of my journey that I cannot ignore, no matter how hard I try.

I haven't slept in days, because I keep having this recurring nightmare.

We are docking in San Diego, and there are just so many aspects to it that are devastating. For one, how do I go back to normal life after living on a ship and circumnavigating the world? I've been high on the adrenalin of travel for so long, how do I come down? How do I go from living in a fairy tale adventure back to the mundane routine of school and work every day?

I am back home, but it is not the same, nor will it ever be the same. I am home but this place is completely foreign to me, because I have seen and experienced things that shape the way I see the world around me. So many things about everyday life that I used to take for granted I now am either extremely grateful for, or repulsed by. In my dream I am taking that first step off of the ship and back onto US soil, and I don't know how to handle the overwhelming emotions that come with the end of this epic voyage. It is over.

I wake up crying in my sleep, every time. And what makes it all the worse is it is not just a nightmare that will be forgotten once I drift back to sleep. In two and a half short weeks it will be my reality.

Yee Yee Baltic Sea!

Shanghai City Street at Night

 

 

Zhujiajiao Water Village

 

 

Traveling at 430 km/h on the Magnetically Levitating "Maglev" Train

 

 

Street Food + Squid = Delicious!

 

 

Dragon at a Temple in Hong Kong

 

 

China Tomorrow! Wait, What? No! Too Soon!

Two days is not anywhere near enough time to: 

• Unpack from Vietnam
• Recoup from Vietnam
• Pick up the mess accumulating in my room of purchases from Vietnam, mostly consisting of 50-cent bootleg DVDs (soooo many DVDs)
• Catch up on readings
• Write field journals 
• Repack for China
• And most importantly, PLAN FOR CHINA!!! 

What do you mean we're in China tomorrow? I haven't had a minute to plan yet. And I signed that little slip of paper saying the ship can leave me behind to find my own way from Hong Kong to Shanghai, but I have absolutely no transportation booked... Oh this will be fun. 

I feel like this puppy: 

 

 

Vietnam

Not going to lie, only being on the ship for two days at a time may force my blog posts to diminish drastically. I never bring my computer off the ship and two days at sea is barely enough time to catch up on all of my school papers, let alone record my adventures. I will try to post a picture here and there if nothing else though. And once we leave Japan and spend a couple weeks sailing across the Pacific, I will have no end of time to catch everyone up on everything that has happened.

Vietnam was insane! I absolutely loved it, and would go back in a heartbeat. It was completely different than I expected: more modernized, and yet not completely developed to the point that it loses all of those little cultural aspects that make it Vietnam. On the first day a group of us hung out with our friend's dad, who actually lives in Vietnam. He took us out for Pho (so delicious) and then to the Cu Chi Tunnels. Crawling through those endless claustrophobic mazes while listening to gunshots in the background (they had a shooting range with war-period firearms that you could fire) was extremely eerie to say the least. After the tunnels we were dropped off at the airport and headed out to Nha Trang. Two of us spent the second day diving, which was incredible. The visibility was not the best, but the amount of marine life we identified was endless. The massages in Vietnam were superb. You can go get a professional 90-minute massage for like $15. I can't even tell you how many massages I got; I lost track. We spent a lot of time in the backpacker districts, staying in hostels with other travelers from all over the world. It was so inspiring hanging out with people who have been doing exactly what they love, traveling for months on end. On our last night, back in Ho Chi Minh City, we had dinner with a guy from Bolivia, a guy from England, a guy from Italy, and a girl from Argentina who has been living in Japan for the past two years. Such cool people. Also our dive master the second day was an English lady who was now living in Vietnam, and had spent the previous year in Thailand. I asked her what her story was and she said that she knew that all she really wanted to do was travel. And so she got her teaching certification from PADI, and now can travel all over the world teaching dive courses. How is such a life not too good to be true?? I think I finally know what I want to do after school.

Vietnam Tomorrow!!!

I can't believe I'm actually going to Vietnam. As one of our deans put it tonight, "I've never been so excited to go to a place that everyone has else has avoided."

Today at work I had this older lady come up to the field office desk asking about her trips to Cambodia. She was very insistent that the dates she had originally been given were not the same as the dates on the itinerary. That took a good five minutes to clear up. Then she wanted to know each and every restriction of the baggage allowed for the airlines. What dimensions? What weight? What medications need to be marked? Is the personal item allowed on top of the carry-on bag? Are all these restrictions for the carry-on bag or the check-in bag? So is the SAS trip checking all the bags or only allowing carry-ons? And on and on and on. I was getting so frustrated because she wanted each and every little minuscule detail down to whether or not she could bring water in her water bottle through security and I just didn't have all the answers for her. I also thought it was peculiar because I did not recognize her as one of our life-long learners. At pre-port tonight the dean welcomed former president LBJ's daughter and her husband, a former senator to the stage to thank them for all they have contributed to our community since joining us on board. Guess who stepped onto the stage? Yup...

Singapore Was Sweet

 

 

Apology

I understand that I caused quite a bit of concern over one of my previous blog posts, and I am deeply sorry for that. In fact I got so many distressed emails that I fell asleep last night feeling really, truly awful, and second guessing all that I have learned while abroad that has shaped my decision-making processes. I have been engulfed in the excitement of traveling for so long now that I've yet to really experience culture shock, that severe discomfort of being in a completely foreign environment where absolutely nothing is familiar. But hearing my story from all of your perspectives really made the culture shock set in for the first time this entire journey. I forget sometimes that the way I perceive things, isn't always the way they will be interpreted when I try to relay them. I had no idea that what was was such an empowering experience for me, in really pushing myself out of my comfort zone, would be seen as a complete lapse of proper judgement. I am deeply sorry for worrying everyone that I was putting myself into a situation that was doomed to end tragically.

On that note, you should all be relieved that we spent the day in Singapore at Universal Studios. It was just like being back in the good old US.

I Feel As Though I Am About To Walk Into An Authoritarian, Dystopian Novel...

Singapore is one of the cleanest and safest cities in the world. It also has some pretty intimidating laws. The following crimes are punishable by up to $1000 fines, and caning (they literally smack your butt with a cane until it bleeds):

• Chewing Gum
• Spitting
• Smoking
• Jay-walking
• Littering 
• Eating on subways
• Possession of durian (a kind of fruit) on subways (because they are smelly) 
• Buying pirated CDs or DVDs
• Homosexual contact
• Begging
• (There are many more but I don't know the rest)

Also, possession of drugs carries an automatic death penalty. 

They've Been Holding Out On Us

I know this isn't going to sound like a very exciting story, but it is, because I live on pasta and potatoes.

So I was up on the fifth deck just now looking at the bridge report to find out what time the sunrise is tomorrow when one of the crew members walked by with a tray of the best-looking sandwiches. I eyed him as he walked by and said in a very starved-child sounding voice, "Oh wow, can I have one?" I really only meant it as a joke but I guess I sounded even more pathetic than I had intended because he said yes, ok, and removed the plastic, presenting the tray to me. I just had the most amazing rosemary chicken sandwich, and it had real cheese! I need to find out who this guy was so I can be his bff.

Woman Selling Fish

 

 

Top Seven Things I Can't Wait To Do In Singapore

1. Eat
2. Eat at a hawker center
3. Eat chile crab
4. Eat satay
5. Eat chili coconut milk noodle soup (that's probably not what they call it)
6. Eat that ice volcano thing covered in syrups and other weird stuff (that is what they call it)
7. Eat

My goal is to have to be rolled back onto the ship. And this is not just because I am so sick of ship food (although that is a large part of it); Singapore is supposed to have some of the best food in the world! People hold food to such high standards that if a restaurant is not out-of-this-world amazing, it is forced to shut down pretty quickly.

In Which I Escape A Tour, Overpay For Spices, And Discover Chai

India - Day 1

I was obsessed with India from day one. How could you not be when you haven't even pulled into port yet and the air outside already smells of spice? I watched the sunrise, as always, but I'm sure you're getting sick of that story by now. We were actually slightly delayed getting off the ship because immigration took much longer than usual. It didn't really matter though because I had an FDP first thing and so I wasn't missing out on anything but air-conditioned busses and guided tours with way too many other students. I've had enough FDPs by now to realize that they are nothing but a tragic waste of time. They shuttle us around in these embarrassingly luxurious, air-conditioned busses, while we sit in comfort and look out the window, down at the people living on the streets in squalor. It feels so horribly wrong. Here we are in their country, and we're the ones being pampered, bombarding through their home, and watching them as we pass by like they're merely curious exhibits in a museum. The busses drive us to some significant location, we parade off the bus, some guide leads the group of us around while reciting some rehearsed speech, they give us a couple minutes to explore, then try to round us back up and we are forced to stand around and dawdle while we wait for them to herd in all the stragglers. It's ironic really because on the ship they are always encouraging us to explore, to interact with the locals, and to not just be tourists. And then they force us to go on these FDPs which turn us into the epitome of tourists. That is the portion of India that counted towards class. Now listen to the rest of my story and you will see how messed up this academic system is.

My FDP was supposed to be from 0930 until 1300. We didn't get off the ship until about 1130 but luckily my professor said we could still leave at 1300 if we had plans. So four of us left the tour group, crowded into a little rickshaw, and headed back towards the ship. That is when my India experience really started. Rickshaws have a little seat in the front for the driver, and a seat barely big enough to fit three in the back. There were four of us trying to cram into the little vehicle and so being the smallest, I sat on the edge of the driver's seat. The entire bumpy ride back, he kept trying to hand over the steering to me, asking if I wanted to drive. I kept telling him that no, I didn't want to kill my friends, and he'd smile and bobble his head and ask again five minutes later. That was my first impression and how I will always remember India: escaping that horrible tour and sitting crushed next to the driver in a rickshaw, hanging on for dear life, as we zoomed through the colorful streets of India.

He dropped us back at the ship and I found my two friends there waiting for me. We went to the tourism office to see what there was to do, and were pointed in the direction of an area where we could do some shopping. We found another rickshaw driver, asked him to bring us to the place the tourism office had pointed out, and off we went. About half way there our driver asked us if we would like to go to a store that had lady's garments. Now we had been warned that taxi drivers in India will offer endless places to take you, and really pressure you into going there, because in the end they actually know the guy who works there and are trying to give him your business. They are probably also getting a commission for bringing you there. You have to be very persistent with where you are going and not let him take you anyplace else. But we had no definite plans, and were looking to do some shopping anyway, and so agreed to go to what was likely his friend's shop. The store front had all kinds of lovely, fancy, Indian clothes on display. We were let to a little back room where the walls were covered in shelves, covered completely in neatly folded clothing in every color you could ever imagine. Shopping in an Indian store is an experience that takes a little adjusting to. Nothing is marked with prices, and it is nearly impossible to ask the price of something, because they try to sell you as many things as possible and then negotiate a single bulk price in the end. I had no idea that this was how it worked, and was completely lost with the entire system. The ladies who worked in the store kept pulling out such lovely clothing, and would either put each item in a maybe pile or a discard pile, depending on how I reacted, which was terrible for me because I come from a culture where you never want to offend, and thus pretend to like everything whether you actually do or don't. I quickly realized though that the result of pretending to like everything was a giant pile of clothing that they thought I was going to buy. Then when I stared trying to ask how much everything was, our rickshaw driver, who was with us this entire time, said not to worry, he would haggle everything for us at the end.

We each found a couple items to purchase, and then realized we didn't have enough cash. So our rickshaw driver told the store owners we would be back and drove us around the corner to the ATM. We went inside a little building with a sliding glass door and nothing but an ATM inside and stood around examining it for a minute. The slot that you put your card into was suspiciously different colored, and there was a hole drilled further off in the corner. At that point we just stood around completely lost at what to do. How do we explain to our driver that the ATM he brought us to had been tampered with? He was going to look at us like a bunch of dumb, paranoid Americans. Should we just risk it and notify someone immediately to be ready to cancel our cards? We finally went back outside and did our best to explain the situation to our driver. So he took us, literally right across the street, to another little building, but this one had a guard outside who went inside with each of us individually and wouldn't allow anyone else in. When it was my turn I went in to find a brand new, very high tech ATM that had hardly ever been used, let alone tampered with. Such a relief.

After returning to the store and bargaining our items down to a price that was probably still more than we should have paid, we returned to the rickshaw and our driver asked us, "ok, what is next on the program?" which made us slightly uncomfortable because we hadn't planned on having him drive us around from place to place. The idea we had in our minds was to have him drop us off at a market of some sort where we could walk around and explore a bit. So we asked him to take us to the market and he asked if we meant the spice market. Ok, take us to the spice market. That had to be in the main area of the city, right? So he dropped us off at a little store that was literally called "Spice Market." Not, a series of stores making up a market in the African sense that we had grown accustomed to, but a single store. Oh well, we're in India, and you can't go to India without bringing back spices, right? So we went in and were handed baskets to shop around with. I ended up getting terribly ripped off for two different reasons. FIrst off, I was not used to bargaining in actual stores, only the little outside stands and stalls. Does the same concept apply to actual stores? Or is there a set price? I had no idea and none of the shop keepers seemed to be very fluent in English. Secondly, and this has become a major problem whenever we get off the ship in a new city: the entire city knows a ship full of American students has just arrived, and so they jack the prices way up. Then, many of the students who are either unaware that you can bargain, or simply unwilling to bargain because it is too much of a hassle, pay the first price asked. The shopkeepers then, seeing that we have the money to pay outrageous prices simply refuse to let the next person who comes along pay any less. It has become a terrible mess and I seriously got to the point where I would cringe when someone would ask me excitedly if I was from the ship. In fact I got into the habit of telling everyone that I was just a backpacker, traveling my way through India. So at the spice shop I got absolutely reamed, which was unfortunate, but I learned my lesson. Bargaining occurs everywhere in India, and stay as far away from other Semester at Sea students as possible.

We had meant to have our rickshaw driver leave us there, but he simply refused, asking how we planned to get back later, and so slightly annoyed, we climbed back into the rickshaw and asked him to take us someplace where we could drink chai. The place he brought us was a very nice, westernized lunch restaurant. We got out and stood looking at it for a minute before turning back to our driver and asking him is this was where he would drink chai. "No, this is not where I would drink chai, this is where tourists drink chai. At local place you pay maybe 10 rupees for chai. Here you pay maybe 150, 200." We explained to him then that we didn't want to be tourists, we didn't want to go to anymore stores where the prices where ten times higher, and we wanted to drink chai at a local place where he would drink chai. So we loaded back into the rickshaw and he drove us to a little hole-in-the-wall joint with cement walls painted bright yellow, and dirty white plastic tables and chairs. The Indian who worked there brought out two little tin cups for each of us, one containing chai and the other to use for pouring the chai back and forth to cool it off. You've never tasted such perfect chai. I am a huge fan of chai back home but nothing will ever compare to Indian chai again. It is the perfect balance of sweet and spice, and tastes of pure happiness. Our driver, who had joined us, said he hoped we didn't mind that he ordered a few snacks. What arrived was two little tin plates, one with a banana roast for each of us, and the other with four of some sort of spicy, pepper-filled donut served with coconut chutney. You've never tasted anything so amazing. The banana roast became a favorite of mine during the week. It is a banana coated in some sort of batter and roasted. Every country we have been to has had some version of fried bananas or plantains and they are just perfection. Why does this not exist in the US?

I learned over the course of the week that southern Indian food is completely different from northern Indian food. The food from the north is what we typically experience in Indian restaurants in the US. Southern food is based much more around rice, instead of naan, and more often incorporates seafood. The dishes are altogether entirely different but it would take a book to describe. I also learned that these little hole-in-the-wall places where the locals ate, called "hotels" served the absolute best food to be found in India, and I insisted on eating at them repeatedly. The fancier the place we ate at, the more likely it was to be catering to tourists, and thus the less flavor and spice they added to the food. None of that for me please; I want all the spice there is to offer.

A little torn piece of paper with the number 75 was handed to us and I though maybe it was a ticket so that when we payed at the door the man would know what number we were. No, that 75 was the bill. For four people to drink chai, eat banana roasts, and donuts with chutney costs a mere $1.50. Up until this point we had been paying prices for things similar to what you would pay in the US. The realization hit us just how much they take advantage of tourists, and how much we should really be paying to travel in India. The realization was both terrifying and liberating; terrifying because we were in for a struggle as we encountered people who wanted to charge us tourist prices for being white, and liberating for reasons you can imagine. A few dollars in India can keep you happy for days.

Our rickshaw driver drove us around to a few stores, where we browsed and bargained and still got ripped off because we had no idea how much certain items should cost. But by the time we decided to head back to the ship we were content with the way the day had turned out.

Shipboard Life Update

1. Today is our two month anniversary of boarding the MV Explorer. How has it already been two months?!?!

2. I'm loving the fashion trends on the ship these days. Everyone wears nothing but the clothes we've purchased in port, which consists largely of alibaba pants. I apologize in advance for embarrassing anyone when I come home but it will take a very long time to convince me to wear a pair of jeans again. I also apologize for the gifts I bought you that you will probably never wear...

3. Grapes for dinner! I swear they only pull out grapes once every few weeks, but when they do, it's my own personal holiday.

4. It was crazy going to class today for the first time since India, and the last time before Singapore. This school schedule is highly tolerable.

5. They offered to let us stay on board for the 15-day enrichment voyage through the Galapagos for $50 a day once our semester ends. So tempting.........

This Is When Things Get Crazy

And by that I mean that we have hit Asia and will hardly ever be on the ship for the next month. We have four days at sea before Singapore (only two of those being class days), two days at sea before Vietnam, two days at sea before China, and two days at sea before Japan. Not that it wasn't already, but my life is about to become even more of a whirlwind of adventures.

Today is Sea Olympics day. We were originally supposed to have Sea Olympics before India but our schedule got a little jumbled up with all the Mauritius craziness. So basically we are all split up into nine different seas, based on what deck and hall we live on, and today we spend the day competing in various events. Winner gets to get off the ship first when we debark in San Diego. Honestly that doesn't seem like the best prize, I am in no hurry to get off this ship whatsoever, but as it happens, my sea, the Baltic Sea, is currently in first place. Later today I'm signed up to compete in hula hoop.

India spoiled me completely with all of its amazing, flavorful, spicy food. I could happily live on Indian food. And after joyously gorging myself on such mouth-watering dishes for the past week, the bland, monotonous, sad excuse for food on the ship is nearly impossible to stomach. The only palatable thing I could find for lunch was buttered toast.

Missing India Already

 

 

I've Dreamt of This Place For So Long,

And now,

I am in love with a land that smells of spice,
where elephants and rickshaws crowd the streets,
where roadside stands serve piping hot chai
where taxi drivers invite you over for home-cooked meals,
and everything simply bursts with color.

I never want to leave.

It has only been two days and India has already bewitched me with her exotic delights. If the ship manages to drag me back on board come Saturday, I will tell you all about it. If not, I'm sorry, I just couldn't go back to life without India.

Pit Stop in the Maldives?

Haha I wish. I just turned on my tv, which shows the ships exact location, coordinates, speed, all that fun info, and we are directly east of the Maldives right now! Omg can I please just jump overboard and swim ashore? Someday I'm taking a massive dive tour of the world and coming back here. The problem is I've been saying that about every place we've visited...

In other news, INDIA TOMORROW!!!! I am so damn excited! So excited in fact that I may just jump overboard and swim ashore. I made a list of the top things I want to do but I don't know how I will ever find time for it all. I think I will be coming back here as well. 

Top Things I Cannot Wait To Do In India:

1. Eat delicious Indian food
2. Drink mango lasis
3. Ride an elephant
4. Paint myself in henna
5. Wear beautiful Indian saris
6. Meditate in an ashram
7. Sleep in a treehouse
8. Spot a tiger
9. Ride first class on a train for virtually nothing
10. Sit on a beach all day long eating mangos

Remember Japan

Today marks one year since the disastrous tsunami hit Sendai, Japan. I'll never forget waking up at five that morning to a multitude of missed phone calls. I finally picked up on the next ring and it was my mom telling me that a tsunami had hit the place that I had come to think of as a second home. I turned on BBC and watched in sickening horror as replay after replay showed a gigantic wave wiping out the city where I had spent a summer of high school living with an incredible host family and attending an all girls Catholic school. I contacted my family there almost immediately and about a week later they replied, notifying me in optimistic Japanese fashion that all was perfectly fine, they just didn't have any water or gas supply. Of course the news stopped covering the story several days later and I have no idea what the current state of Sendai is. I will return to Japan in about a month, and time permitting, I hope to make my way up to Sendai to visit my family and see what has become of what used to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited.

I feel like not nearly the help was given to Japan as could have been. When Haiti was hit by an earthquake several years ago the relief efforts were endless. I remember countless service projects happening all over universities with all proceeds going to help Haiti. Japan is a developed country though. I feel like everyone assumed they would just take care of themselves. After the initial horror of what happened I never really heard about it again unless I actively sought out the information. I know they are an incredibly resilient, independent country, but it seems tragic that we forgot them so easily. In fact, here I am on this ship, traveling the world, about to go to Japan, and I've yet to hear a single mention of the event from any of the deans or faculty.

Remember Japan today. Remember the countless lives that were lost.

Goodbye South Africa

South Africa - Day 6

Last day in South Africa. I could not stomach the idea of breakfast on the ship, even though that's where everyone always eats breakfast for some unfathomable reason. And it was pretty early and no one was actually up yet. So I ventured over to the Waterfront on my own in search of a place to eat. The only place that was open was a little coffee shop in the mall. I ordered an omelet and tea for the equivalent of 8 USD, and what arrived was the largest, fluffiest omelet I have ever seen, accompanied by toast and jam and an entire traditional British tea set up with the entire teapot of brewed roobius, complete with cream and sugar. It was marvelous.

After breakfast I made my way back to the tourism office to call the paragliding pilot to see how the weather conditions were. Sadly it was too windy, and seeing as I had to leave that evening, the lady just refunded me.

From there I went to explore the aquarium. The aquarium there is pretty well known, and as South Africa lies on two different oceans, I expected its displays would be pretty spectacular. I was actually surprised though because it wasn't any bit more impressive than Denver's aquarium. In fact the predator tank at the end was home to a mere five ragged tooth sharks and some manta rays. Our aquarium back home has dozens of sharks of all different kinds. What they did have though were the penguins that have the giant yellow eyebrows. Those were fun to see.

I wandered over to the markets and ran into my friend, Lizzie. The two of use decided to go downtown for the afternoon and explore Green Market. So we found a cab and had him drop us off at the market square. I love African markets. They are so much fun to explore and offer every foreign delight imaginable. Two things that are really common in South Africa are carved ostrich eggs, and also intricate beaded sculptures. Oh and I nearly forgot the giraffes! They have these amazing wood giraffe sculptures that range from a foot tall to ten feet tall. I really wanted to get one but had no idea how I would ever get him home and so had to restrain myself. I found a few souvenirs and gifts and some really awesome clothes. From the market we found a little cafe and sat down for smoothies. We spent the remainder of the afternoon walking around downtown before finally taking the cab back to the Waterfront where we found the ridiculously long line to get back onto the ship.

Neptune Day!

Sorry, I'm backtracking again, but I just got this gem from my roommate and had to share. Such a fantastic group of people!

Cape Of Good Hope

 

 

Cape Point, Once The Fog Set In

 

 

Baboons!

 

 

Why Can't Every Beach Have Penguins?

 

 

Able Seaman Just Nuisance

 

 

The Former Card-Counter/Mathematician/Completely Awesome Gentleman Who Took Us Around Cape Point

South Africa - Day 5

Sometime around the eve of arriving in Cape Town a girl from one of my classes approached me, asking if I wanted to tour the peninsula with her on the fifth day. I had no plans and so agreed. Apparently her parents were originally supposed to meet her in Cape Town and were now unable to, but had done all of this research and found this tour guy. Sounded interesting. Why not? 

She found one other person to join us and so the three of us waited in the dock area for our tour guide. I guess I was a bit surprised when an older white gentleman stepped out of the minivan. It hadn't occurred to me before, but all of the tour guides I had seen around had been black. Tour agencies prefer to use black people so that you feel like you are getting an "authentic" experience. It's all pretty messed up seeing as all the revenue goes right back to the wealthy white men at the end of the line. This guy was older, as I mentioned, with a balding head and his remaining hair flying around in an Einstein-esque frenzy. He spoke with a typical, whimsical South African accent, which if you have never heard one before, sounds something between and English and an Australian accent. I loved this guy from the start. He talked nonstop, but everything that came out of his mouth was fascinating and left you intrigued. He had personal stories to relate to everything, completely the opposite of the typical straight-from-a-textbook speech that most tour guides hand you in a dull monotone voice. He started out by handing us all maps, first of the world, then of Africa, then of South Africa, then of Cape Town, and then of the route around the peninsula we would be taking. Geography lessons are always so much more meaningful when you experience the place. 

We drove along and our guide had no end of stories to tell. Most of them related to what we were driving by, but some of them were just awesome stories about his former card-counting days in Vegas. I kid you not. And then he told us about the intricate high-tech card shuffling machines that are used these days, and that so far they are impossible to beat, but there are people working on it. At that point we stopped on the side of the highway overlooking a housing development. He switched tangents completely to tell us the entire political and economic incentive behind such communities as the one's we were looking at. After apartheid ended, it didn't really end, black people just didn't have the financial means to bring themselves up to the same class as everyone else. And so the government came up with these housing communities, for these lesser privileged people, where the interest rate was a mere 3%. I am of course simplifying this immensely because my mind does not work in financial terms and I cannot recall all the details. There was also a rule that you had to stay in the house for fifteen years, or else be subjected to the original interest rates. This project worked out wonderfully and really did a lot to help out the black communities, but sadly the government lost interest and stopped developing these housing communities. 

We drove past some really remarkable beaches. The plan was for our guide to drop us off at a water taxi, which we would take ahead to the next point, but when our guide phoned the water taxi guy, he had a long argument about how "you just don't take those kind of risks!" He finally hung up and explained to us that there was a small crack in the part of the boat where you drain the water out (that's the technical term) and it really wasn't a problem because while the boat is moving, it only takes in about two cups of water, and that is nothing. But our guide was upset because if anything else should go wrong with the boat and we were stationary out in the middle of the bay, the water would come in substantially more quickly. And swimming is not a nice option because of the Great White Sharks. So no water taxi. 

Instead we stopped at a little beachside cafe and our guide warned us that he was about to turn us into addicts. He asked us if we preferred whiskey, Bailey's, coffee liquor, or hazelnut liquor, and ordered us what are called (if I remember correctly) Dom Pedros. What arrived was an alcoholic milkshake in a wine glass, and boy was it incredible! I've been dreaming about Dom Pedros ever since. I guess they lived up to the warning he gave us about becoming addicted to them. Next he ordered us tomato and cheese sandwiches, only because he wanted us to taste the bread. I cannot even describe this bread to you. It is rich, and dark, and whole grain, yet not dry in the least bit like many whole grain breads back home. It was such a welcome treat after the bread we are served on the ship, which is white 110% of the time. 

Our next stop was a pie shop. We were going to order lunch, continue on our tour, and then go back to pick up lunch. We stopped in front of a little shop with yellow awnings called The Sweetest Thing Patisserie. Only we were not allowed to get out of the minivan at first. Our guide warned us that we had never had real pies, and were about to experience something new. He led us into the little shop and we were presented with a counter full of little meat-stuffed pastries, and another counter of sweets. We placed our orders and were on our way. 

The next stop was a little beachside area that is famous because of Just Nuisance. Just Nuisance was a dog, and the mascot of the South African navy. There is a train that runs up and down the coast, and members of the navy ride for free, but animals are not allowed and so Just Nuisance was always getting kicked off. The navy was unhappy that their mascot was being kicked off the train and so you know what they did? They made him an official member of the navy. So as a member of the navy, he received all the same privileges as the navy, and rode the train for free, and when he died, he received the same ceremonial funeral that any human member of the navy would have received. 

Our next destination was Boulder Beach. I don't know if you are familiar at all with South African wild life, but it includes penguins. If you know me at all, you will know that I have always loved penguins, and my main goal for South Africa was in fact, to see penguins. Boulder Beach is where the biggest colony in South Africa resides. On the way there our guide had more stories. Whenever there is an oil spill in the area, there is a penguin cleaning day. And whenever there is a penguin cleaning day, people line up for miles to get a chance to clean the penguins. Two people are grouped up together, one to hold the bird, and the other to hose it down and wash the oil off. It takes a good fifteen minutes and by the time it is over, you are completely exhausted because the birds put up such a fight. When you are done you have to drop the penguin into a tub of water. If he floats, then you've done your job. If he sinks, then you have to start all over again. A few years back there was a really bad oil spill, and when the penguin cleaning was finished, they couldn't allow the birds to get back into the water because they would just get covered in oil again. So what they did was they transported the penguin colony over to Port Elizabeth, which is on the eastern coast of South Africa. The penguins swam home in roughly 13 days, by which time the oil spill was cleaned up. That story inspired a children's book, called Fredrick the Penguin, which I meant to look for but completely forgot. 

There is another story about the penguins that our guide told us. The penguins that are found in South Africa are the African Jackass Penguins. But apparently just in the past couple years the term "Jackass" was deemed to be politically incorrect, and so they were legally renamed, simply, the African Penguin. 

Boulder Beach was everything I expected and more. I can say that my life is complete. I have seen penguins in the wild. They are just such funny little creatures in their little tuxedos, waddling around in the comical manner that they do. 

After we had visited the penguins we returned to the pie shop, picked up our lunch, and drove to what our guide referred to as "The Best Restaurant in The World." The Best Restaurant in the World turned out to be a spot on the top of a cliff overlooking the rocky beach below. It was becoming quite stormy at this point, and so the cliffs and the beach gave off this English countryside air. The pies were every bit as scrumptious as our guide had made them out to be. I ordered a blue cheese and leek quiche pie for lunch, and then a passion fruit tart for dessert. My mouth is watering just thinking about them. 

We continued on our way to Cape Point. Cape Point claims to be the spot where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet. But there is another point, slightly farther east that claims the same thing. Several years ago there was a lawsuit between these two points, as to which the Indian and Atlantic Oceans meet at. The final consensus was that these two oceans do not meet. End of Story. 

The road began to wind as the terrain became hilly. Up ahead we saw cars pulled over onto the side of the road and it was soon apparent why. Baboons! Just sitting there on the side of the road. Our guide let us get out to take a couple pictures after pointing out the alpha and warning us to stay away from him. Such funny creatures. 

There is a hike to reach the top of the cliff that is Cape Point but being on a time schedule, our guide bought us tickets for the little cable car instead. Once at the top, we followed the paths, and just as we were about to round the last corner, he stopped us, forced the three of us to close our eyes, and led us around the corner to the final spot. When we were all lined up along a ledge of sorts, he told us to open our eyes. Such a view! And we made it just in the nick of time because the storm clouds and fog continued to roll in and a moment later we couldn't see a meter in front of our faces. 

As we wound our way back along the road we found an entire camp of baboons walking straight at us. Many of them carried babies which was really adorable to see. The baboons passed and we continued to look out the window and onto the hillside and what should we find there but ostriches. I will say this yet again: such funny, strange creatures! I know you've all seen pictures, and been to the zoo, but when you actually see these things in the wild you are just overcome with a sense of ... I don't even know the word for it. They are just so strange. I mean they are these gigantic flightless birds with these massive fluffy feathers and long skinny necks topped off with a pinhead. Such bizarre creatures. 

We made our way to the Cape of Good Hope, the most south-western point of the African continent. As we all learned in grade school, during the great age of exploration, when everyone was trying to find the quickest route to the east, the passage around the southern tip of Africa proved to be extremely treacherous, and many ships were lost. Of course, you couldn't go telling sailors that there was a very good chance that they would perish as they rounded this stormy cape, so they named it the Cape of Good Hope to brighten everyone's spirits. There is a sign there, both in English and in Afrikaans, that says "Cape of Good Hope, the most south-western point of the African continent." And of course we all took pictures there because that's what we do. 

The plan was to make our way back to Cape Town and take the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain from here. By the time we found our way back though, it was still incredibly cloudy, with no hope of visibility from the top, and so our guide took us for a drive up a different mountain instead. As we drove, he pointed out different townships along the side of the street, many of which don't even have electricity. What was really a shock was when we passed the last township before the mountain, crossed the mountain pass, and directly on the other side of this mountain is the wealthiest housing area in all of Cape Town. Literally nothing but a small mountain pass separates unbelievable wealth from absolute destitution. 

On the way back to the waterfront we stopped at a gas station. Our guide ran into the little store and came back out with three small paper bags and handed one to each of us. Inside were samosas, and the best samosas you've ever tasted. 

And so ended our tour with the best guide I could have ever imagined.