I'm 21!!!

On a COMPLETELY different note, I’M 21! Crazy, huh? The day before my birthday, we arrived in Costa Rica. Ashley and I walked around and shopped. We grabbed lunch on the ship- club sandwiches??? How could they hold out on us this long? Then we went to the beach. A store owner from earlier knew it was my birthday and gave me a butterfly shotglass- how appropriate. When I walked by later he bought me a beer, and a bunch of people sang happy birthday for me on the beach front. Later that day, the ‘girls’ got dolled up to celebrate Ashly’s 22nd and my 21st. We went to the Captain Morenos, the club a local suggested, but their was a car showing. We were a little eager to get out- 7:30 haha, so we pre-partied at a hole in the wall bar nearby on the beach. Wherever we are, or whatever we’re doing, we know how to keep each other entertained. We must have talked there for a couple hours, just drinking beers and girl talking. It was a crew members birthday nearby so half of the staff was there. Later on, we made are way back to the club. It was quite a mess of people- locals, SAS, and a handful of crew members. The girls kind of scattered and we all hung out with random people. We met up with Hallie, Andrea, and Lindsey. Anyways, so we’re drinking, dancing, and having a good time and the store owner from earlier comes up and mentions something about a present. He comes back a huge gift bag with a shirt and magnet inside. I was stunned. Haha….Overall from what I remember it was a great night. Haha, I’m just kidding. The purser did help me home though. That’s a story. So on my actual birthday, I woke up generously late, walked the beach, and did some shopping. Then I met up with the girls at this restaurant I had eyed the previous day, and by coincidence Steph thought would be great for lunch. They treated me to lunch at this adorable little restaurant that’s outside. Afterwards Ali’s local friend took us to get some ice cream. We had ice cream and took some pictures on the beach. It’s crazy to think that this is the last time we’ll be in port, or taking pictures together. We all get off on completely different times in Miami. It’s weird that we are even at the point of thinking things like that. Reality- seems so hard to grasp. Isn’t that so ironic? I can’t think about what it’s like to have to pay attention to gas prices, or not have anything to do all the time. Hell, I feel like this ship has become my family. They are the ones who are there for you when you’re emotional, angry, sad, etc. We’ve bonded over the past few months. I had strangers coming up to me wishing me a happy birthday. It’s a new year for me. A pretty big one too. I have everything to be thankful for, but a whole new start ahead of me. It’s the first birthday in a while that everything seems just right. I just circled the world. I have made some of the greatest friends. I have an amazing boyfriend and family waiting for me. And if all of that isn’t pretty damn awesome, I’m also 21!

How do say goodbye to the best thing that’s ever happened to you?

‘They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.’- Edgar Allen Poe.

Well, finals are over. I’m officially a senior. Weird to think, huh? So here is my problem: I’ve never been one to cry. Graduations? I could care less. Even funerals? It just isn’t something I do. But even now, thinking that a week from now I won’t be here, it hurts really really badly. For the first time in my life, I have found someplace that I belong. Someplace that makes me happy, a level of happiness I didn’t know existed. A place that inspires you to dream and explore; it pushes you to live. You know, I wrote a life checklist a couple years back. The very first thing on it was to travel the world. I had all these images in my head, imaging what it would be like to really go through with this. The only image I could really see was a little kid, from Africa, playing for the camera. Don’t ask me why. A whole 3 and a half months, and the entire world, and that’s the one thing I saw over and over in my head. Well, go figure one of the most amazing moments of my life was playing patty cake with a little girl, in the African townships. It just so happened to be caught by the photographer for the ship, and its now hanging on the wall of his best pictures. In these last three months, I sat around with my friends, reminiscing about our crazy rickshaw rides, getting lost countless times, and then those moments that made everything worth it. The fact that we sit around nonchalantly saying, ‘Vietnam today, China tomorrow, and Japan right after that.’ It’s ridiculous. Life shouldn’t be like that. It just seems so impossible you know? But it is. It’s out there, waiting for you. We just trap ourselves with restraints, making the possible seem impossible. I have been criticized for dreaming ridiculously big, and seen people roll their eyes when I tell them I want to do this or that. I was so focused on making everyone happy, that I forgot to live for myself. Yet, in these past three months, I think everyone on board has ‘lived’ more than so many people we know. That maybe, just maybe, I haven’t been taken seriously because I have the guts to go after my dreams, and achieve them, in the first place. So I have a challenge for you…Think of everything in life you’ve ever wanted to do. It can be anything as simple as eating something new (sushi? Caviar? Hell, anyone want to try pigs tongue?) to your biggest dreams (traveling around the world, starting your own business, etc.). Have a girl you want to ask out? Want to do something absolutely silly like swim in a baby pool full of noodles? What’s holding you back? 101 things. You’re not allowed to think logistics. Just make a list. Then, pick a day to start, mine will be May 9th when we dock, and you will have 1001 days to complete your list. We only have one life to live. Are you brave enough to really live it? Go do everything you’ve ever wanted to do, and find a way to make it happen. The second you start making excuses, you’re only limiting yourself and holding yourself back. This ship has taught me so much, but above all, it’s given me strength to accept that I’m just not going to fit into anybody’s mold. That life doesn’t have to be a set track, especially if you could never adhere to it anyways. I’m going to miss the MV Explorer, these people, and the times I’ve had- probably for the rest of my life. This will be the hardest goodbye- ever. But at least I have so much more ahead of me. Now go start that list. What’s a matter, scared?

“We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.” T.S.. Eliot, Four Quartets

The Ambassadors Ball

108 days. We’ve seen poverty, we’ve seen determination. We’ve seen sadness, but then we’ve seen hope. But most of all, we’ve seen love. The people we’ve encountered over these last couple of months will last in our memories. Not only within the countries, but in our community.

We have become a family, with sisters and brothers from every state, race, and ethnicity. More than ever we realize that the world isn’t as big as we thought. We are all just people, trying to get by and enjoy the most out of life. Well, tonight I think we can all agree that we are living the dream. Look around us. Friends, food, and an experience of a lifetime to reflect on. We are nearing the end of our voyage. Soak up every last minute and appreciate it for what it’s worth. In the end, we have so much to be thankful for. We officially join the 1 percent that circumnavigates the world. Congratulations. Now for the toast.’

So here it is. After a day of sorting through tickets, then blowing up disgusting amounts balloons- it was time to get dolled up and eat ACTUAL food. Big, I know. I didn’t tell any of my friends that I was doing a little speech, so I surprised them with that. Hence the Hallmark Moment. The entire ship felt like a prom or –worse- a goodbye dinner. Everyone was taking pictures. Dinner was phenomenal, but far too fast. By the time I had finished my filet mignon, I realized it was over. There was live music in the piano lounge. We had palm readers, tarot cards, pictures with the captain, and karaoke. Then after working a bit, and the second seating was finished, there was two dances and dessert buffet lining Tymitz Square. I wish life was like a ball every day. Haha…And they sailed on happily ever after.

SEE US GOING THROUGH THE PANAMA CANAL!!! http://www.pancanal.com/eng/photo/camera-java.html
Mira Flores locks: arriving 0740, departing 0850
Pedro Miquel Arriving 1000, departing 1040
Passing Gamboa 1330 Gatun locks: Arriving 1450, departing 1710
ETD Cristobal 1840

What does Hitler, growling women, and oversized toenails have in common? HAWAII

One day in Hawaii. What do you do with your one whole day in Hawaii? Well, 90 percent of the kids went to the beach and got sloshed. Stephanie and I went to Pearl Harbor that morning, and what else? C’mon, you know me too well. We should just call it shopping at sea.

So both wearing sundresses and obnoxiously oversized sunglasses, we headed over to Pearl Harbor looking like we just stepped off the set of the movie. All we needed was bright red lipstick. When we got there it was apparent that there are only two types at Pearl Harbor. SAS and Old People. I swear, we’d be in line and someone on a walker would cut, or mosey by on their air tank.

Let’s play a game. TOP THREE THINGS that should tell you you’ve re-entered America.

3. Entitlement. Oh, I’m sorry I thought this was a line. Well that line just goes to shit once your inside. Everyone’s pushing and shoving to see a damn plague.

2. See, I have a HUGE theory in life on parenting. If you want to be like Branglina and create an army of children, that’s fine. In fact it will probably help our economy considering our dollar is going to shit. HOWEVER, if you’re pulling a Spears and your parenting skills are shit- then by all means hire a nanny or DO NOT HAVE OFFSPRING. No one, and I mean no one, thinks it’s adorable when your spawn has a tantrum during a filmstrip of the attack of Pearl Harbor and you ENCOURAGE it by going, ‘Yes, yes that’s the Japs’. SERIOUSLY people? Seriously? As the guide is saying, please be respectful and quiet as this is the grave of 1,173 people, the father is running after this terror SCREAMING. It disgusts me. In short, if you can’t handle them, don’t have them or hire someone who will.

1. Now, number 2 is a pretty serious issue. However, number makes my eyeballs BLEED. No, more appropriately, it makes me want to go to the nearest bathroom and make myself throw up. So I’m standing there, amongst 5 million old people, looking around. What do I see? I KNOW you know what’s coming next. Do I even need to say it? I’ll give you a hint. I just got back from Japan. Image is everything there. Where they have style, fashion, adorable haircuts, and thighs the size of my wrist. Which made me feel OBESE. Guess what? Hahahahaha, I thought I was obese. Oh no no Vanessa. How silly. Just take a look around America. I think the waistlines just expanded the size of the third world countries. Maybe if you gorge yourselves more, you can officially kill off the millions who live on less than a dollar a day. What is that- your dollar menu SNACK at McDonalds, between your lunch and dinner? Repulsive. Downright repulsive, and honestly, really embarrassing. I have spent months taking pictures of people from different countries. They probably come to ours and take pictures of the cows in wheelchairs because they are 800 pounds. Trust me, it’s not McDonalds. Those are all over the world. They have oodles of fast food around the world. They eat it too. So what makes us so- American? Welcome back to America, I guess.

We took a boat- I think my life is officially surrounded around ships- to the memorial where circa 1,173 men rest. Now, I have a slight obsession of World War 2 history. Somewhere along the way, I couldn’t get enough of it. From everything to fascist Italy, Nazi Germany, the Holocaust, to- what else- Pearl Harbor. In the 1930’s, China and Japan were going at it full force. Japan was being downright horribly nasty. They moved upward to Nanking- which is something you should familiarize yourself with. As I said, Japan is very much about image. One of the reason’s they moved on about Himroshima and Nagasaki, is not that they have forgiven as much as it is they chose to forget. The ‘Rape of Nanking’ is not in their textbooks, and for a while they tried to conceal the fact that thousands died in the most atrocious ways feasible. Look it up, and have at that all you want. Quickly, why is it called the ‘Rape of Nanking’? Well, if you’re a soldier and you have disposable life around you, what would you when the world is your sick little oyster? Girls from 14 to elderly to raped gruesomely then disposed of. We were absolutely opposed to that, thus we wanted to remain an ally with China. Eventually, we created an oil embargo which left them with two serious options, and they chose war. The Japanese wanted to cripple our strongest defense- our US fleet. I had never seen one of them actually shot, but it literally shakes the entire battleship. A battleship. Could you imagine how powerful it has to be in order to completely move a battleship backwards? A+B+C= Pearl Harbor. 243,000 killed, the youngest was a 3 month old citizen. It wasn’t the amount of death as much as the destruction that truly crippled the US. Their targets were lined up one after the other innocently, just asking for trouble. The US thought their biggest threat was from within the system, thus the planes were lined wing to wing in the airfields, completely unarmed, just as exposed as Tara Reid at a red carpet premier. After years of studying it, and sobbing over the movie- I was there! Unbelievable to think such a beautiful place was the stage for one of the worst attacks in US territory.

Food for thought: both Vietnam and Hiroshima had museums that ended in such a light that war is bad and to try and maintain peace. Both of them. Even Vietnam which wasn’t exactly shy at pointing fingers. It was interesting because I doubt many people hop from one side of the war to another back to back, and sees how each is commemorated within the culture. What’s that about America? Are we really that scared of not being the big bad wolf that we’re willing to do anything, even War, to make maintain our power? Something else I nearly forgot to mention, god how could I have forgot? The Rape of Nanking? There were 20 some generals and officials on trial for horrendous acts, including the Rape of Nanking. Seven were to be hung, only 1 for the situation in Nanking. They were later honored and a temple was built. People continue to go to pray to them and HONOR them. Wow, right? Wait, but who was in charge of this BS? Oh, the United States? Now why would they turn sides quicker than George Bush’s Iraq excuses? That would because we were afraid of communism- see Vietnam War. We wanted Japan (see a paragraph above to laugh at the irony) as our ally in the fight for communism (including China, yes you can smile again), thus we left Hirohito in power, despite the fact he was behind World War 2. OH UNITED STATES.

Moving along now- after Pearl Harbor, the 36 old people, the 29457733 fat people, and the 7 annoying beastly offspring which cannot be controlled- we took public transportation to the mall. Now, public transportation is a funny thing. You will meet people that you never imagined existed, and even better, they are all together. The weirdest, funniest, strangest people in a mass movement throughout Hawaii. Of course, we are immediately welcomed by an Adolf Hitler look-alike who is looking at us like baby impalas to a lion- bowl cut and all. Five minutes goes by, nope still looking. Another 15, nope, add a creepy smile. Course all the while, we have a growling women- like, for real, growling. A man whose toenails are long- quite abnormally long. My theory is that he can’t reach them to clip them because he is number 29457734. Oh, shortly after number 29457735 is hauled into the bus via wheelchair. He can’t even wheel his wheelchair down the street to the next stop. A man who clearly works with construction makes small talk with us- oh about what other than food. The smell he exudes is fantastic. Really, why sell flower shitastic Paris Hilton perfume when clearly they have not capitalized on sweat and BO. I could really go on if you like. Flip flops with not one, but two pairs of socks over cankles. A shirt with fat peeling from under it. It wasn’t all fat I swear. Let me think. No, there was one person who appeared normal. Then there was Stephanie and I- clad in our sundresses and knock off designer glasses talking on- first port where CELL PHONES WORK- our phones. No wonder Hitler was looking at us with interest. Consider it our own little tour of Hawaii. We had an amazing tour guide who didn’t talk us to sleep- NEXT STOP: CHINATOWN. We interacted with several locals. All in the name of shopping.

I think somewhere, an angel sighed, as I walked into heaven- I mean, Nordstrom. Not necessarily to shop, but hello familiarity! We met up with Hallie, Lindsey, and Andrea. Steph and I got coffees and walked around the 3rd largest mall- not sure if it’s outdoor mall or in general- in America. That night, we had dinner at CPK. Did some more damage, and eventually came back to the ship circa 8.

And the other 90 percent? A mob of disgustingness outside the ship at 9, when dock time begins. Real classy, real classy. Possibly the number 3 popping its head through the surface? I can tell you one thing, if one day in Hawaii makes me sick of American culture, I now know what they mean by having culture shock once you’re inside the states. They say you can be just as adventurous and make a difference within your community but truth be told, I really don’t want to. I have no desire to.

What Happens when you go through Peanut Butter Withdrawals

*1,000 dollars, 1$ per ticket, towards trying to get off the ship 1st. (Bryan G won)
*1,000 to blow the ship’s whistle as we enter into Miami. *950 to stay in Belgium.
*600 for a map.
*500 for the Captains hat. (Doesn’t fit the winner’s head either.)
*500 to have chips and dip with the Dean. (I’d pay that for the chips and dip alone)
*300 for a bodysuit signed by the crew.
*60 for a Taj Mahal tee-shirt (org. price is 100 rupee or less than 3$)
*40 for a jar of peanut butter, from Trader Joe’s.

*That’s just the price 9 items at random went for. We gave away over 100 items ranging from services on the ship, such as massages, acupuncture sessions, and dinner with the Captain, to weekend trips in Belgium, ski weekends, cabins on the beach, or visits of major cities throughout the US. Several pieces of art and photography were sold from 30 to over 300. A CD by our own amazing Ben and Willie went for circa 200. *There were about 8 of us or so on the committee. At 2 we began a silent auction. That continued until 7. At 8, we began the Live Auction. CC and I played Vanna White, all dolled up and displaying the items as we auctioned them off. Alicen was the gong girl, after the item was sold. Between every handful of items and auctioneer, we raffled off several items.

*In total, we made over 20,000. Apparently a record. Here I was willing to pay 100 for a painting or two, but everyone STARTED at 100. It was hard not to gap as people are offering hundreds of dollars for bedspreads, breakfast in bed from the dean, and other random items. Needless to say, it was ungodly successful.

$1,000 to blow the whistle

Well that's it for now. I'm off to dinner with the girls. Coming up? The SOS Auction. The question is: which one of your kids was crazy enough to buy 'Blow the Ships Whistle' for 1,000? Even more interesting, guess how much a jar of peanut butter cost? A Taj Mahal tee shirt? Trust me, you want to hear this. All that and more later.

Nerdified

Since we are on the ship for 20 days- with one day in Hawaii- we are slammed with things to keep us occupied. One of which- a Nerd Dance. See what happens when you miss one meeting? Anyways, everyone was walking around with backpacks, dorky glasses, awkward looking outfits, etc. Spencer had toilet paper hanging out his pants. Grant and Thomas put orange marker zits all over their faces, etc. I wore half of the gifts I bought for everyone (sorry Dad and Chris). Afterwards I hung out with Nicole (she’s from Lemont!) and Jaime, watching everyone come home from the dance and hanging out.

Kobe: That Spaceship Looks Familiar

On my final day in Japan, Stephanie, Hallie, and I headed towards the island to go to the fashion museum. On our train ride to Rokko Island, we passed the longest bridge in the world. As we study our map carefully, we notice a spaceship-like building on the stop all of the Japanese people got off on. We sat there by ourselves, confused and studying the map. As we zoom past the spaceship, Stephanie goes “Wait, that spaceship looks familiar.” Sure enough the spaceship reads ‘Kobe Fashion Museum’. After backtracking our steps we find out that the Kimono exhibit closed the day before. The next exhibit was to open the day after. We went to the only open gallery they had, which was a local Japanese artists collection. Afterwards we went to a dollar store. Excuse me, 100 yuan. 100 yen. Our vocabulary on foreign currency alone is both impressive and confusing. Its an 100 Yen Store. Leave it up to me to find a dollar store in Japan. After shopping extensively, we took the train back to the center of town to go shopping in an urban area. While Stephanie and Hallie got Starbucks, I separated from them to go shopping in the train station. Well, needless to say, I lost myself there. I spent far too much time and money shopping. I headed back to the port and realized the store was closed, where I intended to buy a phone card. So I started knocking on the closed door and thankfully, they were still inside. Flabbergasted, they gave me a phone card only to find there was an endless line at every phone in the port terminal. I decided to pick a station at random in hopes to se their phone. When I got off, I noticed first of all, no one got off. A bad sign. So I look around. I managed to find the only unsafe place in Japan, I swear. It was a series of dark alleyways, one lit building, and, of course, absolutely no pay phones. By now I had an hour before dock time begins. Considering our next port is only a day in Hawaii, 3 hours of dock time (what you would get if you were 1-15 minutes late) would certainly put a damper on the day. So I headed back to the station and decided I would wait in line. I finally got the phone with half an hour to go, only to realize- How the Hell do you work this thing? Once my 25 minutes flew by, I realized I only had five minutes to spare. Of course, this would be the ideal time to lose your ID. I found it and walked on, completely accepting of receiving dock time by this point. I slid my card through with 1 minute to spare.

There is Tongue on my Tongue

After spending the day in Hiroshima, Stephanie, Lauren, Alicen, Ashly, and I made our way back to the train station for dinner. We really wanted to have a good traditional Japanese meal before we left Japan. Luckily for us, every store has plastic food in the window. We went into a restaurant at random, where a woman offered to translate for us. We eventually decided on just pointing at plastic food to order. Now, if you can remember, one of my goals is go outside my box. So what can I possibly order that will go beyond my comfort zone? How about tongue? Stephanie, Lauren and I all had pigs tongue. Except for the fact you could see the tastebuds, it wasn’t that bad. The seasoning was delicious, the chewy texture was only a reminder that there was currently tongue on my tongue. So there you have it. One baby step at a time

Wow… this is where the Atomic Bomb was dropped

*Hiroshima. We left Tokyo for a nice, long bullet train to the South. That basically translates into a nap catching up for lost sleep. After we got off the five hour train or so, we caught a local train car to the dome, where the bomb was dropped. Under FDR, the Manhattan Project was a 2 billion dollar project with 600,000 working on the bomb. In 1944, it was decided it would be dropped on Japan. A target committee was created to choose the ideal location. Kyoto, Tokyo, and other various places were immediately discarded because there was ‘nothing left to bomb’. It was already torn apart from daily bombings. Hiroshima was chosen because there were no known POW’s or American soldiers nearby. In fact, there was no military at all. It was only comprised of unsuspecting citizens going about their daily business. On August 6th, the 12.5 kiloton ‘Thin Man’ was dropped. 240,000 died immediately, 120,000 died from radiation. When the bomb was dropped, it literally wiped out everything. Everything. Only 5 or so buildings stood in the rumble. One of them happens to be the City Center, which used to be an ornate building, on the waterfront. The bomb was aimed towards the T bridge, directly above the City Center. The blast somehow left the building standing, preserving the location of where the bomb was dropped. You knew as soon as you stepped in the park. You just knew. There was something about this place that had a story to tell. It was in the air. An eerie silence and peacefulness. As you head toward the bridge, you hear soft, sweet music. Women in lei’s and flowered dresses hula to ukuleles. The bridge itself is suspended above a calm waterway, with rows of young cherry blossoms heading off into the distance. A man at the end of the bridge held a piece of paper. Free Hugs.

*At the end of the bridge stood a statue. Do you know what I am talking about? I remember hearing the story when I was in grammar school. She was a little girl when the bomb was dropped, but suffered from leukemia as a little girl. She was 12 years old. The belief is if you fold 1,000 cranes, you will be saved. Well, she may have died, but thousands upon thousands of cranes are left in several glass cases nearby. An entire school of children were standing in front of the memorial, holding umbrellas and bringing chains of cranes.

*Afterwards we went throughout the museum. A whole row of children’s clothing and items were displayed in boxes, all with statements such as ‘Vanessa was 14. She went to school in this outfit, which she sewed herself. When she didn’t return, her family searched for her and found this as her last memory in the rumble.’ Unlike Vietnam, it was from a very unbiased perspective, and, if anything, left a lasting impression of peace. They want you to remember their stories, so that no one will have to suffer through them again. Understandably so. After the bomb was dropped, those who survived were left with lasting impressions. If they survived, they were left with cancer, and other problems from radiation. Little children were throwing up their organs, dying painfully.

Do you want to go, Want to go to Tokyo?

After a two and a half hour bullet train to Tokyo at 6:30 AM, we arrived in TOKYO! Since the Imperial Palace was near the station, we just made our way over and looked at the Emperor’s pad. Then we made our way to the Sony building, which is basically like a giant Best Buy, if you ask me. We headed over to the Shinjuku district, where their version of Times Square is. Basically it’s the big signs, flashing lights, and lots of stores kind of area. We walked around. Found a petstore with the cutest little baby animals. All while trying to find a hotel for the night. Finally we got frustrated and decided to eat at a little hole in the wall. Had some pretty amazing potstickers. By this point, if my adventures with chopsticks was a movie I’d be at the end, where they zoom out with me proudly holding them semi-correctly, scooping up my potstickers without dropping a bite with end credits beginning. Can’t say SAS wasn’t for nothing! Haha… joke! Then we decided we would figure everything out after we bought baseball tickets. You heard me! We headed over to the Tokyo Dome where we bought tickets for the Giants versus Swallows baseball game. To kill the time until the game we went to the fashion district- Harajuku. We spent an hour roaming the packed streets and cheap, adorable shops. We made our way back to the baseball game where we sat behind home plate in the nose bleed area along with half of SAS. After the game we had some time to kill so we went to a 24 hour Denny’s and took our dear sweet time ordering. After Denny’s we made our way to another overnight café, this one far more sketch. This one was a small room, with the lights brightly shining, and men sleeping in chairs. We got a little private booth and crammed four of us in the little padded area.

Japan

Times Lost: 5 respectively?
Items Lost: I gave away Mason’s 34371273 granola bars for sustenance for my friends. Does that count?
Near Death Experiences: Negatives- an eerie feeling of safeness.

Osaka

When we arrived in Japan we had a list of places to go, and that’s the extent of our planning. Everything that ensued is just as much of a surprise as it was to us. First up to bat: Osaka. Well known for its nightlife, flashy streets, jam packed with clubs, and other venues. We took the train to Shin-Osaka, where we got off and proceeded to look at a map. We’re looking and looking trying to figure out where we were when we look up and are drawn to a giant red ferris wheel. We decide that’s what we’ll go do. So we go into this mall and hop on a ferris wheel where we see a nearby bowling alley and decide that’s where we’ll go next. We make our way to the alley, but need to go find an ATM. Just a note: ATM’s in Japan are virtually impossible to find for foreigners. After looking are endlessly for one, we decided to take a time out and eat lunch at a cute little café in the train station. We decide our next plan of action will be Spa World, a 24 hour spa with pools, spas, and saunas. When we get the Spa World, we think the area is too eerie. The shops are empty, the streets too quiet, and it just didn’t feel right. I keep insisting we need to go to another part, and finally everyone agrees to try Numba, the more active part. We leave the station and by this time it’s night. We’re officially lost and getting frustrated. We start heading down the street and finally the streets become louder, more colorful, and your suddenly overwhelmed with hotels and other places to stay. We start to go down the side streets where thousands of clubs, bars, restaurants, and other random shops are when Alicen and Ashly want to look at this internet café. Turns out it’s open 24 hours and has different types of chairs and rooms so you can sleep the night. We decide we’ll just stay there. It was immaculate. A tiny little chandelier greeted you at the front, the chairs were leather, the computer brand new, the toilet seats were heated, a shower with curling iron and other various amenities, etc. All in a little comic stand slash internet café. So we leave our stuff there and go wander the streets. We end up at the Penguin Bar where we stay for a round of drinks. Then we decide we should probably go get dinner. Lauren and I get McDonalds, while the others raid 7-11. After we meet up we wander trying to look for another place to go to. Somehow we get suckered into going to a local bar, where a bunch of locals were dancing some extremely weird techno dance. We were just sitting there looking at them like what the hell. We didn’t stay long and decided to call it a night. We were all too drained from wandering around aimlessly and way too excited for the internet- not something we have at our disposal on the ship. So we spent our night randomly in cubicles, sitting in leather chairs, and dreaming sweet dreams about AIM and perezhilton.com.

Let's take a second look at... Assless Pants

Have a Britney Spears approach to childhood where less is more? Don’t have the intelligence to change a diaper? Too lazy to take off the kid’s pants? That’s okay. China has your back. Meet the invention made for the future squatters of the world, one ass at a time: ASSLESS PANTS. I was at the Temple of Heaven when I noticed a flash of nude colored skin coming from a little boy. At first I thought I was just hallucinating from my lack of normal food and the overwhelming amount of unidentified goods in my stomach- but no, there was indeed a giant tear in his behind. Then, you start noticing things. Everywhere you look is baby genitals. Sitting on the grass. Sitting on their mother’s lap. Exposed and open to the world. They are regular pants, except the crotch is cut out. They can be sold that way or you can get crafty and make your own. It’s a two step process. Real easy for those of you who are interested! Just apply scissors to the garment. Step two: Cut. The choice of hole size is all yours. Explore the possibilities. Zig zag hole? Straight hole? I’m sure there is a perfect fit for you and your hole. Expectant teenage mothers- this is perfect for you. All you Jamie Lynn Spear’s of the world can now reduce the cost of having a baby substantially with the assless pants invention

Shangblah

That night we flew to Shanghai for the rest of the night and the next day. Our plane there was pretty amazing. It was 9 across, with 85% SAS students on it. They had huge screen TV’s that showed take off and landing through a camera on the bottom of the plane. Pretty cool I suppose, if flying is your thing. Let’s just say I usually take advantage of the free beer with your meal on planes to wear off the acute awareness of being suspended thousands of miles above civilization in a foreign aircraft. The fact Sydney next to me, after telling her I’m scared of flying, tells me that if we die, she’ll be fine with it because she’s lived a good life, doesn’t help. Not the usual ‘don’t worry, we’ll be fine’ response I was hoping for. On the other side Alex is remarking on the coolness of the giant screen and seeing the little lights go into the distance. Wretched. Anyways, the only day I had in Shanghai was wet, bleak, and gray. It was hardly anything to write home about. My shoes soaked through, the bottom of my jeans were wet, and I felt like a wet dog. Stephanie, Hallie, and I headed to the ‘city area’, where we had McDonald’s and wandered the streets in search of the art museum. We looked at an exhibit and as we were leaving a couples of young locals came after us. Now, we were warned about scam artists who trick you into having tea with them and then leaving you to foot this giant bill. They were nice enough but then they dropped the ‘tea’ word (haha get it, tea/ t word?). Immediately we all look at each other, smile politely, and excuse ourselves. We had walked away from the scam. On our way out of the park, Hallie noticed some other tourists being suckered, but they were taking the bait. She walked up to them and told them not to go with them. As we were walking away, the scammers must have realized what we had done because she started yelling, screaming and racing after us. We ran across the street and hide in a nearby Starbucks. Convienent hiding spot, right? Haha. Anyways, we were in search for a grocery store. A women overheard us talking about cheap food and mentioned that there was a Walmart nearby. Thus forth begins the adventure of our travels to Walmart. After months of shopping at markets, hole in the walls shops, and the occasional grocery store with everything in foreign font, a Walmart is more exciting Christmas and Taco Day combined. Although she wrote Walmart in Chinese, we couldn’t find anyone who understood where or what Walmart was. One cabbie even looked and said, ‘WAH-MAR’- something that’ll forever be engraved in our minds as the funniest thing ever. Finally we made our way to a hotel, that translated to the taxi cab driver, or so we thought. We drove around watching our bill slowly, but steadily, increase as we become very lost. We cross the bridge away from the city and farther away from civilization. We stop and ask for directions and we’re officially mindlessly driving around. Finally, that damn smiley face laughs at us for being such silly girls, and we go crazy in a two story Walmart. As it should, the Walmart was a far cry from home, but it had a touch of the familiar to it. There are huge tanks with live fish swimming around, and copious amounts of rice spilling over in baskets sitting in the middle of the room surrounded by row after row of foreign food. It’s kind of like a big game of ‘what’s this?’ What is this picture of crackers with yellow stuff? I don’t know, throw it in the cart. How about this brownish colored liquid? No idea. Don’t worry, I have plenty of candy to share with everyone back home to play the guessing game with. Word of advice, the nucleus-like substance with brown in the middle not only looks like shit, but tastes like it too. Mmm… yummy. Haha. We got back to the ship as nightfall came, wet and hands full of Walmart bags. I have nothing against my time in China, and was so happy I went, but it’s also not a country I’ll be visiting any time soon again. Let’s just say I was happy and ready to move on. Not to mention a newly restocked drawer with random items for my feasting pleasure.

Pandas and more old stuff

On our final day we started by booking it to the zoo. I’m not going to lie, I chose the trip specifically to see the pandas. It was pitiful. They were cute as sin, don’t get me wrong. They were just so sad looking, all locked up in tiny rooms. One even sat by a door, putting his paw up against and looking out mournfully. Big Tom went to the actual zoo and said they were all in tiny cages, the size of their bodies. We headed towards the Summer Palace, where the emperors would spend their summers. The title is pretty clear, more old stuff. By this point everything was just a big ornate building, with cherry blossoms blooming nearby and impressive landscape in the distance. Katie, Annabel, and I walked around looking at the gardens and what not. We had a women come up to us and insist we all take turns taking pictures with her daughter. Then she decided she wanted to be in them too. It was really cute. We headed across the street for lunch. I stayed long enough to try the fish pizza. Go ahead and ask where I was three minutes later? Go ahead, ask. Well, next door. Enjoying a delicious double cheeseburger with fries and a Fanta. Mmm… Don’t think I wasn’t the only one. Soon everyone was next door, ordering their own meals and dining on the deliciousness that is McDonalds (slim pickings abroad, unless you’re a KFC freak. Seriously, who knew KFC was so freaking huge abroad??) We had more time to kill before the airport so we headed to, where else, the Silk Market. I guess my trips are usually predictable, aren’t they? They ALWAYS end up back at shopping, with or against my will. That’s fine, I’m now 2 trench coats, 3 purses, 1 clutch, 1 polo, 1 pair of shoes, 3 bags, 1 dress, 2 shawls, 1 pair of chopsticks, and 3 pieces of jewelry better of a person, haha. I love my life.

Climbing the Great Wall= Death??

So on our third day in Beijing we finally made it to a section of the Great Wall. Other SAS students had been talking about sliding down it or taking a lift up it. We obviously went to another section because ours was virtually at a 85 degree angle. The first couple of sections were easy enough but then it just went straight up. It was the stairmaster from hell. Little step. Big step. Bigger step. Repeat. Each time you think you see the final platform, but then you get there and realize that there’s still plenty more. When we finally reached the top, breathless and sweating, it was the most unbelievable thing ever. Too bad China has horrible pollution and you could barely see through the smog. The accomplishment was fine enough with me. Going down was like heaven. By now, other tourists started pouring in by the hundreds and were virtually stopping on each and every step. Now that would have been hell. It would have taken hours to get to the top had we not gotten there before the rush. After the Great Wall we went back to the campus to meet the students and see the campus. I hung out with Maggie, Jessica, and Tracy- all freshmen at Tsinghua. They took a group of us girls around campus. It was pretty remarkable being on a campus again, let alone in China. Not to mention their campus is ridiculously huge. I’m talking HUGE. They have everything they need at their fingertips and barely ever leave campus. Need a haircut? Go to the state of the art barber shop, 8 seats, complete with blasting music to add to the experience. Dinner? Try any of the twenty restaurants on campus. I was impressed. After walking around, we headed to their cafeteria to eat dinner. It was a long buffet style and the utensils? Chopsticks of course. A mass amount of bright green chopsticks sit in buckets instead of the usual plastic forks and knives. I could probably write an entire blog on the adventures of Vanessa and chopsticks alone. After dinner they helped us communicate to a non-English speaking (basically everyone in China) cab driver how to get back to the Silk Market. This cabbie must have been in his 80’s and was either falling asleep or on drugs because his eyes were tiny slits as he raced in between lanes on the highway and nearly drove into every passing vehicle. Since there are no seatbelts at all, I whisper something about this not feeling right to my friends. Sure enough, minutes later a car swerves into our lane and we slam on the breaks, nearly missing the car. Only minutes later, another car swerves in front of us nearly missing us as well. All the while our cab driver is half asleep and continuing to drive in other lanes. We would say turn over, but he doesn’t speak an ounce, not one ounce, of English so we were trapped. Very trapped. Finally, the ride from Hell is over and we go shopping. Note: 2 near death experiences= cab ride from Hell. Then we head into Silk Market to master round 2 of the enormous space. Bring it on.

Chopstick Land

Items Lost: Zero.
Times Lost: Zero.
Near death experiences: Two.

When we landed in Beijing, we headed to Tsinghua University, where we would be staying on campus. We had dinner in the guest house: Peking duck. I went to bed pretty early because I was exhausted. On our second day we headed out to Tiananmen Square. Famous, famous square. It is the gate to the Forbidden City. Well, four of us students were running behind the rest of the group. So we had to run through the square with our Chinese students, trying to catch up. Well, meanwhile, Tiananmen Square is flashing before our eyes. I had enough time to hand Big Tom my camera to take one picture. Too bad he moved at the last second and I officially have my feet on the cobblestone of Tiananmen Square. There’s one for the Christmas card. So we spent a couple hours in the Forbidden City. Ridiculously, RIDICULOUSLY huge. Seriously, I’m not quite sure how someone could live there. It makes the Versailles in France look like servants quarters. You would enter a square with large ornate buildings surrounding you, thinking oh wow this is huge. Then you would go through a gate and repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat at least 4 times until you realize, oops, there are palaces alongside every one of these huge squares that we missed? Not 1 palace, but 6 East palaces and 6 West palaces? Of course half of the time you are there trying to figure out where to go, you are either asked to take a picture with someone, their kid, or they forgo the asking and try and discretely take it without you noticing. It didn’t help I was walking around with a really tall brunette and my hair is platinum blonde. Afterwards we headed to the Temple of Heaven, where they would make their sacrifices to the Gods. Basically, it was more ornate buildings. I was pretty content just drinking my ice tea and counting down the time until lunch. Finally we went to lunch which was another share style restaurant that had some pretty bomb chicken. How sad is it that the highlights of my day is usually food? Typical. After lunch we headed to a flying acrobatic show. I was expecting something along the lines of a Disney show, with women doing intricate stretches in beaded uniforms. Um, no. This was ridiculous. Men were jumping on a teeter totter on stilts, being flung mid-air only to sit on a suspended chair or hang onto a suspended stick. Women piled onto one bike by the dozen, hanging onto who knows what while it was moving. A giant pyramid formed with a man on top balancing himself on a wooden platform resting on a ball, then proceeding to jump on it so a spoon would go into his hat. I mean, undescribable. I could hardly do it justice. The most insane act was this giant mouse wheel suspended in mid air. Two men walked along the edges, with huge black bags over their heads, while it was moving in circles, tripping and nearly falling two stories. Anyways, we finished up with our day pretty early so they decided to drop us off at the Silk Street Pearl Market. I had heard of this from my mom and was expecting to pull up to a street market. No, a building. A heavenly building. 4 floors of whatever your little heart could desire and more. Most people are ‘drinking around the world,’ well I am ‘shopping around the world.’ I got overly consumed in the purse floor that I never even made it to the clothes or pearls. I met my friends at the restaurants alongside the market after it had closed and got- gasp, sigh, drool- SUBWAY! A delectable 6 inch Italian with tomatoes that are red, actually red, and lettuce that isn’t dripping in soggy water, and cheese that AREN’T in the form of blocks. Even writing about it now I am swallowing pretty hard, holding my breath until Hawaii for one of my weaknesses. In case you haven’t noticed or caught on, the food on the ship is a little, uh, predictable? There has to be something wrong with me if I am more excited about the Subway then, oh, Tiananmen Square? Haha… typical, Vanessa, typical.

Sneak Previews and Main Features?

You know, something they warn us is that when you start seeing these places, and it becomes personal to you, it changes how you perceive the news. It’s something to think about. On CNN.com, we graze over the news that doesn’t apply to us or affect us. Well, in Kuala Lampur, there was a shooting at the airport. It doesn’t make headlines and it doesn’t even make top news. Understandable. Yet, it’s crazy to think just a couple weeks ago, Hallie and I were sitting there eating our McDonalds cheeseburgers watching silly commercials and waiting for our delayed plane. The same plane that had a extra passenger on it, accounted for. It’s not by any means a large airport, and when they say someone was shot at the cash exchange, it’s easy to say it’s nearby. 6 people were shot. Wow. Well, considering I arrive in Japan in 4 hours, I should probably get some sleep. So I’ll have to leave it at that. Up next? Beijing and Shanghai. I fell in love with one, disappointed with the other. Which is which? You’ll have to wait, I suppose. And a mystery to both of us: Tokyo, Hiroshima, Kyoto, Osaka, and Kobe. Let's cross our fingers and see what happens!

City of Tyrese’s Giant Underwear Ad

I have a confession to make. I slept through entering Hong Kong. So when I came out to breakfast, after already docking, I was greeted with the city in its entirety. There weren’t any lights in a distance or sun setting behind the full skyline. It was cloudly, and bleak. Amidst the impressive backdrop was Tyrese. Tyrese at 60 floors tall donning nothing but tighty whitey’s. And that is the first thing that comes to my mind when I think Hong Kong skyline. Haha

No really, Hong Kong. One day. One mission: to finish my to do list. Stephanie, Ashly, Ali, and I set out to conquer the list in our one day. First up? Victoria Peak. We took a double decker with some Aussie’s who chatted up with us until getting to the tram. Tram to the peak, which was overcast and cloudy. Luckily for us, there was a mall in the clouds. Ah, heaven. Literally. So after lunch and some shopping, we headed down and took off for mission 2. Shopping. Excessive, I know. This time we took bus to subway, subway to Ladies Market. Very fancy subway system I might add. Now, the Ladies Market area was overwhelming. Once you exited the subway, you were greeted with sign after sign of Chinese symbols. The street was packed with locals. Definitely not in Kansas anymore. After completing the 3 block long market, and managing only to buy one item, we went to Starbucks. On our way back to the subway, I decide now is the time to get a camera. See South Africa blog for whereabouts of dear sweet dead Canon Powershot. The birth of my new Olympus 1200, complete with 20 settings, camera case, 2 batterys, 2 memory cards, tripod, battery charger with both HK charger and US, and for fun let’s throw in a free Hello Kitty bag with matching Hello Kitty camera case. Only in Asia would you camera come with a free Hello Kitty bag. Anyways, I am in love. This could be the start of something wonderfully new. We headed back to the ship, ate dinner, and got ready to go out. We took the subway to Lon Kwai Fong, where the bars are. Basically, it’s a whole circle of bars, restaurants, and the like. We went in one underground, where we met a bunch of US sailors who were in port for 4 days. We had drinks with them and danced, and eventually made our way back up to the surface. By now, the street was flooded with SAS kids. We went to a hole in the wall and walked through the mess of US kids with our drinks and met up with some friends. After another hour or so we eventually made our way back, but not before a quick stop at Mickey D’s. And that, my friend, was my one day in Hong Kong. And let me tell you- I could come back in a heartbeat. I loved it. LOVED IT. It was like New York City, but better. The skyline is unbelievable- building after building. At night, they are all lit up multi colored, with ships going back and forth in the water. It was the perfect blend of the familiar with the traditional. Every turn you were surprised to see CPK, but at the same token were 18983463235 different signs in a language you couldn’t even pretend to understand. Unbelievable. Top three on the list for sure. It’s getting harder to gauge the countries. Each one steals a little piece of my heart.

One Eyed Vanessa Monster

The night of the Mekong Delta Day trip, I ran into some girls at dinner who invited me to go out with them. Larissa, Jenna, and I headed to Lions Den- where they had liters of beer for 3 US dollars. Amazingly cheap. Anyways, so my eye had been bothering me all day. So I dragged my contact off my eye, hoping to clear my contact. When it didn’t come on, I got up to go to the bathroom annoyed. Turns out my contact had ripped in two. It was the very beginning of the night, we just got there, and the shuttle took at least half an hour one way until the ship. So I had to suck it up. Now, I can’t see. Really. The big E? You couldn’t pay me a thousand dollars to read a word that size. So the entire night I had one eye perfectly clear, and the other painfully blurry. For a while we tried making a patch out of a napkin. Trying to explain eye patch in Vietnamese? Not so much.

After a while a group of us walked to Blue Geico nearby. We hung out there, where I proceeded to tell the RA’s my story, and why I would sporadically talk with one eye closed. Eventually we made it to Apocolypse Now. The driver told Larissa and I we both owed a dollar, even though it was five seconds away. I refused, and ran in without paying, leaving behind a very angry driver. After a while I lost my friends so I started dancing with a bunch of locals. The entire place was packed with SASer’s so it really didn’t matter. I broke away and started talking with a bunch of Australians for a while. After a long night, I found some SASer’s going home and headed back- one eye and all. Needless to say, I paid up for it in the morning. I woke up cross-eyed. After watching Alvin and the Chipmunks (we have no control over the TV channels, obviously), I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the city. They made us wait in the boiling hot shuttle bus for an hour, sans air conditioning or even shade. Finally, we got into the city. I dragged myself to the rail pass station, had to wait in line with half of SAS, and meandered through the market by myself. After shopping, I ran out of things to do solo (and money). On the plus side, I was feeling better. I walked into a mall which coincidentally and totally unplanned (not) had a spa. Behold: my very first massage! I’ll force my sister to massage me, but she doesn’t count. 1) She’s not a professional. 2) She’s twelve. So I think it’s safe to say it was my first big deal massage. Anyways, so this women just strips you down like its nothing, then lays you on the bed, and before you know it she just jumps on the table and straddles you. Anyways, it was $14.20 plus tip. Crazy, huh? Afterwards, I went to a coffee shop. They told me they took credit card, so I went and sat on the ledge, overlooking the square. When the check came, they looked at my card like they had never seen one before. Cash only. Well, well, well. See, I had bargained with a lady earlier and told her I’ve give her every penny I had- 10 dollars- for two Roxy book bags. Now, I knew I lied, but that still only left me with 40,000 dong. My bill? 45,000. So as I clearly sitting there, digging for money, everyone is looking at me with interest. Silly American. These Brits are just smoking and drinking like no big deal. Keep in mind 5,000 dong= 30 cents or so. Luckily they let me slide, but really now, is it that hard to lend someone 30 cents? I meet up with Lauren, Ali, and Stephanie. We head towards the market to have dinner. On our way back we spilt up to get our dresses. I figured it would only take me a minute or so. As I walk into the store, there was already trouble. A bunch of SAS girls were sitting around complaining. One was yelling and throwing a fit. She walked out with a bunch of clothes without paying for them. Another left to go pay with a credit card, but they took her and didn’t come back for an hour. I decided to go get to an ATM so I wouldn’t have to walk several blocks to charge it to my card. ATM number one: No. ATM number one again: No. ATM number two: No. ATM number three: Occupied by Asian man who is taking far too exceedingly long. Ten minutes later, ATM number three: REJECTED. So I walk back, contemplating which dress to leave behind. I can’t leave my mom’s, that’s just mean. I suppose I could leave the pink one, it looks like a potato sack. I mean, what stranger would lend me 76 dollars? Especially when no one could even spare 33 cents?? And you know what? That night, after showing off my three dress (not worth 150, but definitely an experience in and of itself), I walked to Libby’s room and paid her back every cent. A stranger. A perfect stranger. The world is full of surprises.

My Rendezvous with Nemo in the Mekong Delta

Presentation for food is always key. Garnish? Tantalizing sauces in little design? Allow me to introduce to you the most hideous food I’ve ever eaten. Oh, there was garnish. There was even greenery shoved into his fins. Yet there was nothing you could do to make him look aesthetically appealing by any means. I shall name him Nemo, after no one in particular. But first, let me explain. One of the things I really wanted to make a point to do was visit the Mekong Delta. It is a floating market two hours South of HCMC. On our way we stopped at the rice fields, a Buddhist temple where a ceremony was being held, and another street market. Finally, we got on a ferry to cross the river, to a more remote location. We got on another boat, this one only holding 7 or so and traveled in these small canals in forest areas. Palm trees and other hangings surrounded the canal, and civilization ceased. We came to a small area where a couple of outdoor rooms were set up, making coconut candy. We tried some and had tea nearby afterwards. We got on another boat, and traveled up the canals. This time when we got off we got on donkey/horse carts and traveled inland to see a snake and sample fruits. We had all these exotic fruits and more tea. By this point, I’m starving. We take a four passenger canoe back to the ferry, to a restaurant on the water. This is where my life crosses paths with Nemo for the first, and hopefully the last, time. He is just plopped right onto the table- fins, scales and all. The remnants of his eyes just staring ahead. Now, don’t get me wrong- by no means do fish scare me. In 8th grade we spilt into girl/boy partners to dissect fish, thinking the boys would do all the work. Think again. Brendan shoved fish guts into the air conditioner while I filleted the fish. Nemo, however, was unnatural. His scales were crumbling off his body; his mouth hanging open, and don’t forget about those eyes. I ate him. I did. But the experience was enough for one lifetime. Next time, I’d like my Nemo headless please.

Phong, my Vietnamese Artist

On my second day in Vietnam, I spent the morning at a handicapped school. The children varied in both age and disability. We separated and I colored with Phong, Tien, and Qui- older deaf children. Everyone started trickling into the courtyard, where you could slide into a giant ball pit. Little kids ran around with pens and pads of paper, trying to get your name and age. Lists of names they’ll have to keep, which I have no idea what they intend to do with. Afterwards we looked at their art, which we could buy with a donation to the school. That afternoon I went to a deaf school, where we were greeted by little kids clapping excitedly. The older girls, eleven to fourteen or so, came out in floor length yellow dresses and flower stems, and performed a spring dance for us. Then, the boys did a dance to rap. Amongst all these tween boys was an adorable little boy, around eight- all break dancing for us. After the older kids performed, we sat on the ground in small groups. The younger kids were drawn by the bubbles, liquid dripping all over them as they tried relentlessly to get every bubble perfect. The older kids immediately began asking about you, your family and what you want to do when you’re older via construction paper and colored pencils. I spent my time with a couple girls, coloring and talking, and some smaller children helping them blow bubbles. The group was contagious, excited to learn and interact with us. We left without not nearly enough time as I would have liked to go to an orphanage. The orphanage houses over 400 kids, most left at the gate in bundles by their parents. Rooms hold row after row of cribs, each with a small child laying in it, staring at the ceiling. More children lay on mattresses placed on the ground, while the volunteers fold sheets nearby. My favorite was this tag team duo. An older boy wearing a green shirt, obvious severe physical and mental disabilities, pushed another boy in a wheelchair around the courtyard. They caught my eye because despite everything, they were carefree, looking out for each other and doing their own thing. It was interesting because parents joined our trip, and looked at everything with wide eyes and acutely aware of the surroundings. This is what we’ve been immersed in for months. The extreme differences are no longer a shock to us, rather yet another thing to adapt to. Anyways, that night my friends and I went to the night market. Restaurants line the market, so the air is potent with garlic and meat. Women scream after you. Tourists, mostly British and Austrailian mosey along the streets, taking their dear sweet time. Shops with everything, except shoes anywhere larger than a size 7. On the following day, I went back to the market and walked around with Patty, ready to conquer Ben Thanh. I bought three pieces of artwork- two of Marilyn Monroe of course. Eventually Patty and I separated, and I wandered around by myself. Around dinner, I ran into Ryan, Lindsey, and Anna, and went to dinner at an inexpensive stand near the market. After dinner I helped Ryan pick some things out from his sister and eventually went off on my own again. It was the first port that I finally felt ready to spend hours at a time, just doing my own thing without being overwhelmed by everything. It was a nice change, just to be in complete control, and conquer each street, each bargain one at a time by myself

Two Sides to Every Story, Two Sides to Every War.

A great debater understands the power of knowing each side before making their argument. Similarly, for every war, there are two sides to the story. Is it the American War? Or is it the Vietnam War? Even by name there is a different perspective to the war. When it comes down to it- we have to acknowledge what we see is heavily sculpted and purposefully planted by the media and what our government wants us to see.

200 journalists died during the war, trying to capture the realities. We had the opportunity to talk to one who is publicly acclaimed for his work. A small room had large posters hanging featuring his work. A Vietnamese women in sitting with her head in her hands as a helicopter takes off behind her. She had just lost everything. A Vietnamese women sitting with two babies in front of her in the dirt, her head cupped in her hands. Her face is absolute despair- crying and anguished. The name: burned and ruined. The next is an American G.I. my age, crawling through the brush on Hamburger Hill. His face is close and clear, the bare branches and the environment around him is blurred and unknown. He’s probably 20- not much older than myself. In fact, he’s actually very cute. He looks like someone who could have been sitting next to you in class or your friends’ older brother. Except he isn’t. His face has a maturity and knowledge you’ll never know. I’ll never know. Most of us will never experience. War. His eyes are sunken in, screaming desperation. He is clearly exhausted- his mouth is hanging open. As the photographer recalled his experience, tears filled his eyes, and he became a different person.

What was the Vietnam War? 58,000 American deaths. That would be like taking out the MV Explorer, every one of your daughters, sons, teachers, workers, staff- over 60 times. The total of Vietnamese deaths? 4.5 million. That would be well over 5,000 MV Explorer ships completely full of 900 or so of us. Think about it. Either way, it’s a tragic number. Those were your boyfriends. Your classmates. Your friends. Your high school sweethearts. Your sons. Nothing more than a bunch of college freshmen holding guns and wandering around aimlessly in Vietnam.

The War Remnants Museum is 7 buildings with collections of photos and weapons. No restraints. Everything- and I mean everything- was put out on the table for all to see. It was seeing the war through others eyes. We were viewed as terrorists who took up where the French left off. Terrorists. A word we have come to fear so heavily.

It started off easily enough. Men in masks, standing in front of planes proudly, etc. By the second room you begin to take a deep breath. A picture of a female photographer holds her face close to her camera, taking a picture. Next to it is another picture of a mangled body. Hers. As she takes her last breaths.

A man- James- is giving mouth to mouth to his friends, desperately trying to relieve him. After the picture was taken by the photographer, he stepped on a mine, killing the photographer and the two men in the photo. It was the last photo he ever took.

Story after story, death after death. Each one vividly naming names, showing faces of dead, mangled bodies, and leaving nothing to the imagination. The body of an American soldier falling from a helicopter, midair as he falls to his death. American soldiers dragging a body by the back of their tank.

The third room is when the torture begins. Now why would they see us as terrorists? Why is this room a little harder to swallow than the others? This when you introduce women and children. Innocent bystanders who suffer from the effects of war. Worst of all, it’s Americans who have done this. A woman with holes down her entire back from pellets. A child- a little boy- whose skin from his forehead, around his eyes, and his chin has been eaten away from Napalm. His eyes are little more than useless marbles, sitting in sunken in mounds of ripped apart flesh. Sure enough, all of them should have been dead and very well look it, but they are not. Left to spend the rest of their life reliving the pain.

Next are the effects from Agent Orange, used to burn through the heavy leaves of the forests in order to reveal guerilla Viet Cong. It contains one of the most powerful and dangerous poisons known to man- named by the distinct orange line on the canisters. Six to 21 million gallons was sprayed over Vietnam. Wherever it was sprayed, no life growth is possible. It will continue to stay on and in the land for 100 years. That means it continues to have its effects. Even for us- if we drink substantial amount of water or ice, or even fish- our kids could become morphed if we weren’t careful enough.

Some SAS students- not myself personally- got to go to a center for Agent Orange victims. Little kids have heads that are filled with extra water that they can’t even pick them up. They have to be drained every couple of hours. Even then the oldest to survive was only 10. Offspring continue to have deformities. Jars with babies with two heads and other various extra body parts sat on a ledge. Pictures of little kids curled up without limbs or with bones the circumference of little more than a marker lined a wall.

In the corner a large oversized picture shouts out at you. Before I tell you what it is- let me note that a small plague next to it reads a US decree to give equal treatment to women, children, elderly, and other innocent bystanders. Next to it are a dozen women, children, and babies laying on the ground, obviously trying to get away from the Americans who killed them. Two of their dresses, one of their shoes sits in a small pile in front of the picture. It was taken at the Haong Dien massacre in My Lai, on March 16, 1968, where 504 civilians were killed. 182 women. 173 kids- including 56 newborns. Equal treatment- right.

Next wall is guns. Guns. Guns.

Two helicopters are flying side by side. At first glance it’s very blurry. When you read the title though, you realize that small line midair isn’t a glitch in the blurry photograph, but a body of someone who refused to talk plunging to his death. As I’m reading this, I notice the girl next to me is making a disturbed face. Truly, utterly disturbed. This picture will never leave my memory- ever. I don’t think I have ever seen something so disturbing- and that includes what I’ve seen in Holocaust photos.

Even as I write this description, I feel disgusted. I literally want to throw up. A soldier is towards the right of the picture. He could be anyone, his face turned slightly downwards. He’s looking at his prize- which he’s holding up and studying. It’s a corpse from a grenade launcher. Except for a hand and the head, the body is by no means recognizable. The soldier is holding it by what appears to be an arm, with a small hand peeking out. No shoulder, no chest, nothing else but droopy cloth and the hand itself. Then the hand is attached to what appears to be more rags of cloth. Some flesh, god only knows from where, is connected to some of the pile that is this boy. A boy. A male. His eyes are open, staring into the distance. Across from his gaze, organs hang. The fact that his face is perfectly in tact, every feature distinct as though he were posing for a picture, right there connected to something that couldn’t even be identified.

It doesn’t end there, but I think I will. Four other rooms explain torture, show torture devices, and pictures of people before their deaths. However, I don’t think I need to say anything else, except that everything’s subjective. There are two sides to every story.

Now- relations are cordial. Clinton reenacted trade in 1994, and we’ve been making progress since. People welcome us and ask us many questions about our home and our lives. It’s crazy to think that on the land that our professors and older relatives last saw in battle, we wandered about shopping, eating, and enjoying ourselves. It makes one wonder- in 40 years will there ever be a time where we will visit Iraq? Interesting perspective- huh? Clearly unlikely, but it definitely makes an interesting twist.

Vietnam- A Giant Dollar Store?

Times Lost: Ha. Ha. Ha.
Items Lost: Well, my stack of one dollar bills is officially depleted but that’s my fault.
Near Death Moments: Every time I crossed the street.

Going to Vietnam, I didn’t know what to expect. I had a very naïve notion that it would be run down markets and small communities, with endless amounts of green landscape as a backdrop. Hardly. So what is Vietnam exactly?

Vietnam- or more accurately, Saigon/HCMC- is:
- Motorbikes. Everywhere. The main mode of transportation for 4 million people. Families of 4 are piled one after the other. Babies, new born babies, will be standing on the mom’s lap. Little kids- sans helmets- will be dangling on the back or standing precariously on the front.
- Chaotic Traffic. There is an anything goes mentality. Every now and then a motorbike or two will go right by you on the sidewalk. Hoards of people will be going two directions at once, weaving in and out of one another. See: Crossing the Street 101.
- A Dose of City. The last thing I expected was large booming buildings, 5 Star hotels, pristine shopping malls, large parks with fountains and statues, etc. Granted there are parts that are more modern than others- but it was a phenomenal city nonetheless.
- How can I not say it- Shopping! You have your choice between high end stores near the strip of hotels, handfuls of malls with upscale stores, and then endless, endless amounts of hole in the wall shops, people selling things on the streets, and markets with anything you can dream up. Purses, fleece jackets, backpacks, jewelry, tea sets, perfume, even make-up.
- Ben Thanh Market. Going along with shopping hand in hand, you can’t go to HCMC without paying the market a visit. Hundreds of stalls crammed in side by side with narrow walkways, countless tourists- with a fair share of them being rude, loud, and obnoxious, yells of “Madame! Madame, please look Madame”, smells of fruits, flowers, dried fish, and seasonings permeate the air, and anything you could possibly want.
- Inexpensive food. Near the market is a row of restaurants outside during the night market- across from Ben Thanh. Everything is outside- in the open. They clean the dishes and make the food right there. You could get a drink or two (beer, wine, or pop), noodles, and a plate with several kinds of meat for a whopping total of 3 dollars. Even in the nice restaurants towards the tourist area will only eat away at 10 dollars for 2 drinks, one appetizer, and an entrée. At one place you could get a liter of beer for 3 dollars. A liter. Ridiculous prices.
- The People. I’ll finish on that note. The children here are absolutely adorable. At the service visits they were so interested in you- your name, family, and what you wanted to be. People would come up to you and ask where you were from in stores and markets. One man thought I was from Canada, when I said no, he assumed Ireland. I know there were some instances that people were robbed or mugged- but dare I say it- I felt very safe here. I spent several hours on end walking by myself, as did others, but did not feel unsafe at any point in time. Then again, that’s subjective.

Vietnam

So there you have it- Malaysia. Originally not part of the intended program. It was supposed to be Myanmar instead. Probably for the best- eh? So close to Thailand. Or how about Australia? It seems to be a big tease to be nearby all these amazing countries, and we’re flying right past them. I know, I know- what right do I have to complain? I just know how close I am to so much more. But anyways-

In Global Studies, John Wagner gave a presentation on the Vietnam War. He showed pictures of the men in his unit, and of his year there. In another class, my professor shared a very different experience. Unlike Wagner, he doesn’t share his often. It’s much more personal. Both of them are going back for the first time. Then tonight they showed a movie that included the war.

So let me share a brief story. My sophomore year of college, I signed up for a history of war class. I missed my first day and walked in the second wearing hot pink, all dolled up. Everyone in class (keep in mind it was like HIST 498) was graduating or already graduated. The teacher was a vet who was published and didn’t hold back. It was one of the most intense classes, no, THE most intense class I’ve ever had. I didn’t think I’d get out alive. And you know what- I did. I got a B+.

We focused heavily on the Vietnam War and the aftermath of its soldiers. It was a war that played a huge role for those who are upwards of 50’s. I had lectures and seen movies that looked at the actual war to the psychological affects. Yet putting everything I learned into case study hit home much harder. You know- one man said he could talk about it like the drop of a hat. The other cried. Both are still obviously very much affected by it. One separated himself from it that he does not have to cope with it. The other holds it inside. Seeing the pictures and hearing their stories really made me aware of this reality that only a couple generations ago faced. You know, I might not have been around for it, but people still walk around being affected even to this day.

It puts going to Vietnam into such a different perspective.

The UGLIEST thing that I ever LOVED so much

Final day in Malaysia. So what do I do? Easy- half of the ship does it too. Scour the country for the closest, cheapest internet. 10 o clock on the dot and Starbucks was packed with SAS kids. For the first 5 minutes it was exciting. After that it went just as fast as it does on the ship.

With my frappachino in hand, AIM going (I forgot who half the screennames belong too), I was pumped to share my pictures. After all, how often do you get to put up albums with locals in South Africa, Malaysia, or India? How about some of the crazy things I have done? I mean- seriously- whose Facebook picture could be on an elephant. Course, it stopped downloading after a grand total of 5 pictures. Zebras. Elephant. Vanessa with elephant. Elephant behind our bus. AND a playground. Cool. To top it off my boyfriend told me that those are the pictures they’d rather see anyway. Thanks.

That afternoon we visited a disability home, Chesire Home. We visited with the people for a while, then went to see what they have made. Most of them are only physically handicapped, so they make a lot of handicrafts to help make a living. I was walking around the store and saw these dolls. Okay, so I’ll admit they were a little scary. They were stark white, with plastic beady eyes, and yarn hair. Not to mention they were in bright neon colors that made absolutely no sense. A pink girl? Really. I nodded politely and thought why would I ever buy that? So I keep walking around and pick up dozens of souvenirs for everyone. I begin overhearing conversations with the women in front of the dolls. She is so happy and proud. They are her work, and it takes her a month to do two or three. So I walk over and begin talking to her myself. She absolutely takes on me and I decide to buy one. She threw up her hands and started laughing. I bought it and left felt so happy with what I had done. Then I sat there for a minute, talking to some of the people, and realized that I wasn’t content with that. I went back and bought another set. She kept saying how happy she was. If I could, I’d buy every one just to see her as happy as she was. It’s funny- at first I thought it was such an awkward thing. Yet they’re by far my favorite thing that I bought that day, and certainly the most meaningful. I took pictures with every person who made everything I bought that day. That way, when I give them to someone as a gift, it’s not really a gift from me. It’s a gift that is a lot more than that. It’s a gift from them that takes hours, if not months to work on.

Conquering Malaysia- 1 toy museum at a time

Nicole, Todd, Paul and I left our fourth morning in Penang in hopes to conquer as much as we can. We ask several taxi cab drivers who will take us around for a day 20 ringit an hour and finally find one for 25. He takes us to the butterfly farm. Well, I wore my new super vibrant dress, with a flowered pattern all over it. Those poor butterflies. They were flying up, landing on them, and trying to eat them. Poor Nicole spent a good 20 minutes or so trying to get one to sit on her finger. Eventually she just gave up. I literally just walked up and it hopped right on. Sorry Nicole.

Then, our taxi cab driver randomly took us to a Batik store, probably for commission. Anyways we looked around and watched how they paint these large sheets of silk with little pens and brushes.

As we were looking at this whole list of places to go- Todd insisted that we go to the toy museum. So this is how I ended up in what the sign claims as ‘the biggest toy museum in the world’. I didn’t even know one existed. Well, the museum kind of looked like Ripley’s Believe it or Not. Random statues and figurines just stood everywhere. Shelves upon shelves of every toy you could imagine lined this building that looked like a tomb. No really- it was some sort of Egyptian theme. It was painted a rusty gold, and had mummies and hieroglyphics everywhere. Who really knows.

So our next stop might not come as a surprise. A mall. No really- I know, it’s not a surprise. 5 stories. Very impressive. Malaysians know how to shop. We had lunch on the third floor. It was a cute little restaurant. I couldn’t even tell you what kind of food it was though. It had pictures so that helped a lot. I got a butter bun (the actual name is more impressive, like Pho Butter Bun), honey BBQ pork and little noodles. Amazing. For 12 ringits- or 4 bucks or so. It’s crazy.

Afterwards we all spilt up and went our own way. I found the Sex and the City series- all 7 season for a whopping total of 20 bucks. Since my card seemed to have frozen- I only had a limited amount on me and couldn’t buy much and didn’t want to spend it on one thing. Instead, I bought boots, a shirt, 3 CD’s, and 2 magazines. I know, I just said I didn’t buy much- right? Keep in mind that all of that only adds up to 30 bucks. Seriously. Afterwards I met up with Nicole. The boys ditched and went back. Typical, haha. Nicole still hadn’t Skyped her mom so I headed back by myself. That night I got all ready to go out, but got pretty sick and fell asleep before 9. I was really looking forward to seeing Penang at night, too. Oh well.

Peanut Butter Jelly Donut time

We woke up early on the next morning to get to the top of the towers. Didn’t work as well as we planned. The line went on and on and by the time we got to the end they put the ‘sold out’ sign directly in front of us. Luckily for us- go figure- the Petronas Towers have a huge mall at the bottom. Shopping- just what we needed, right? So we went to Dunkin Donuts for coffee. OKAY- I don’t know about you, but when I wake up and I’m dying for an iced mocha, I certainly don’t crave a peanut butter jelly donut with it. Or pumpkin for that matter. Or about half of the Malaysian choices. Yet, there they were. The strangest smorgasbord of options I’ve ever seen in my life. I got a Mint Chocolate Chip and Crunchy Chocolate. Believe it or not- it was delicious. It tasted like a Mint Meltaway and a chocolate donut with rice krispies on it. High five to them for making donuts- let alone Dunkin Donuts- memorable.

Before we headed to the airport, we stopped at- sigh- another mall. At the airport, Stephanie and Lindsay realized it was pointless to fly back when they were going to backtrack the next day heading to the Cameroon Highlands. So they went in search of another way to get there. That was the last we saw of them. Haha- no not like that. So Hallie and I just sat around eating McDonalds and waiting for our plane. We ended up getting the Manchester soccer team’s plane, with their signatures everywhere.

So here’s a secret. Not really much of a secret. I’m afraid of the first 5 minutes of flying. I can never get that scene from Final Destination out of my head. So I’m already hesitant about flying. So we’re waiting. And waiting. A little longer than necessary. They start making announcements. Then they start patrolling the aisles. Then they start checking tickets. Okay… so we have an extra person on our plane. Just a random person amongst us. They continue to check tickets. Once. Twice. Still can’t find this extra person. They make a couple more announcements and go through a list. So what do we do? We take off and take a random, unknown person to Penang with us. Sketch.

Can I have Corn with my Quarter Pounder with Cheese

Some of the Most Unusual Food Moments: (this was bound to come up at some point)
1. 8 dollars for a Big Mac in Brazil, anyone?
2. Take your choice- Pumba, Timon, or Ostrich in Africa?
3. Absolutely NO beef at McDonalds in India.
4. Lobster flavored crackers for my airplane snack, mmm.
5. KFC is everywhere you turn in Malaysia.
6. Cup of corn= huge. Corn everywhere. On the street. For your Happy Meal.
7. Chicken wings are further up on the menu than Big Mac.
8. Oh yeah, and the McDonalds is DELIVERY.
9. Oops- I mean, GOLDEN ARCHES RESTUARANTS….?

Well, I suppose that list will grow as soon as I hit the countries that are in 100% incomprehensible symbols. Soon, my idea of ordering will be pointing randomly at a series of symbols and praying for the best.

So Kuala Lampur. The four of us- Stephanie, Hallie, Lindsay, and I- headed to the airport our first night in Malaysia. A huge group was from SAS so we all sat together and what not. When we got there we roamed around and found a bus heading to our hotel. OKAY SO…. Our driver was dead set on killing us. He was whipping around these turns and overpasses at 90 miles an hour, the bus threatening to tip over at any second. Half of the bus was leaning over to the opposite side just to try and keep us balanced. He was just singing and screaming, smoking and yelling. It was ridiculous.

We finally got to the hotel at 1:30 AM. We lucked out. We got a room on the business floor. Free internet. A deliciously comfy bed. Oh man. Not to mention, I was in the city! I didn’t realize I was having a withdrawal until after realizing how great it was to be in a city again. I couldn’t get enough of it.

So let’s skip ahead to day one. Our mission: shop. Our result: oh dear. So we walked to Central Market. It’s a 2 floor market with cute little stores. Cancelled out the boys souvenirs in one big sweep, and bought myself a lamp and a dress while I was at it. This is where we tried buying a store’s music off of them. Who else came out with new music??

After spending an hour or two there, we headed across the street to McDonalds. My first McDonalds in about forever. Hello Quarter Pounder with Cheese and Fries! Yes, it’s partially disgusting, but partially the best meal I’ve ever had.

So on our way home we saw a street with rows upon endless rows of tents. Well, well, well- we stumbled upon Chinatown. “Oh, can we go look real fast” turned into another 100 ringit spent very, VERY quickly. So after buying another mound of things- we went back to the hotel, only to go to the mall. So we’re in Malaysia- what could a mall possibly look like? Okay, Malaysia hands down, knows what’s going on. Their mall is stunning. 8 floors of every designer, or type of food you can imagine. PS. MAC has a lightening system to lighten your skin. Yes. LIGHTEN your skin. Went to Forever 21, which was 7 rooms. Seven. Very overpriced though. Add 20 bucks to every purchase kind of overpriced. Even seeing some of those stores was interesting. Going through their jewelry it’s like, oh wow I could have bought that at Jaipur in India or the flea market in Africa.

We had dinner at another American restaurant. I’m almost embaressed that I spoiled myself to so much “home”, but the next couple stops are going to be the real test for me. Their food court, however, was nicer than some of our restaurants. It’s not like a in and out McDonalds with plastic seats. The sushi rolled on by while you sat on modern stools. The mom and pop restaurant had a chandelier and had a stream of water lining around the outside. The atmosphere was so classy and aesthetically appealing.

It was nice to be the minority for once. Instead of looking around everywhere and seeing white, it was nice to have a bunch of Japanese stewardesses, different types of Asians shopping and eating. It’s a different perspective.

On our way back we stumbled upon, go figure, another market. By now it’s 8 or so, and “just a look” turned into another big adventure. They sold all these movies for, like, 5 ringit. We were going through and seeing what has come out and what not.

Finally, we made it back. Hallie and Lindsay were tired. Stephanie and I really wanted to go out and see some of the nightlife there. So we joined up with another group of Semester at Sea students and went to Thai Cowboy with them. We were there until 2:30 or so when the group we were with started looking for food. We walked the row of bars, restaurants, and clubs. A local handed Gabe a free corn on the cob and started raving how good it was. Soon, we all paid 2 ringit (aka nothing) for the best corn on the cob we’ve ever had in our lives. God was it good. We stood on the street corner with all our faces in our cobs, just sitting on a sign and eating away. And that was that. Went back into our comfy comfy bed.

500 Malaysian Cookies

Times Lost: You know what- let’s just call it even and say always. Let’s face it, when aren’t you lost in an unknown country?
*Items Lost: Zero
*I decided I might as well add another category, one that is probably long overdue.
*Overall amount my life was feared: Tentatively 7 (Brazil- 3, Africa- 1, India- 2, Malaysia- 1)

So as with the start of every country, the first 20 minutes is getting off the ship is reacquainting yourself with the area. Some places are harder than others. Brazil was on a street that smelled of potent pee a ten minute walk away from a very large square. Africa was in the heart of a very Westernized, amazing wharf full of shops, restaurants, bars, and anything you could dream up (100 rand ostrich lunch anyone?). Mauritius was a 25 minute walk of sketchy nothing or a 2 dollar water taxi away from a calmer waterfront. India was on a black street- black air entering your eyeballs, your nose, your precious lungs, black dirt all over your clothes, just black everywhere- a rickshaw ride away from most life. Malaysia. Oh Malaysia.

We had to use tenders to get into port. Every time we wanted to leave we’d have to take a lifeboat and go 15 minutes or so to shore. To come back we’d have to wait for the one to come back, sit while a handful at a time got their bags searched, swiped their cards, and finally get on the ship. Leave something behind? Tough love. An person from your group late? Oops. UGH.

So when we got off, we walked around. It’s a melting pot of India and China nearby. We got tired of walking around aimlessly and took a taxi to a chocolate boutique. Its a shop with 7 rooms, all full of chocolate. You get a tour guide who walks you through and gives you a sample of every chocolate. So what kind of chocolates could seriously take up 7 rooms? You’d be surprised. Chocolate with sesame, coconuts, passion fruit filling, mango, kiwi, chocolate covered potato chips, chilli choclate, white/dark chocolate tiramisu, wafers, blueberry, white chocolate with strawberry filling, and mint. Oh, and good ol’ regular chocolate ;).

So here we are- Ashly, Ali and I- all ready with our choices that took forever to decide, when she’s like, oh the coffee room! So she takes us into this room and gives us 6 or 7 samples of different types of white coffee. The coffee has no added sugar, it’s just pure coffee in individual packets. Vanilla, coconut, mocha, or different kinds of healthy ones. Gone goes all the chocolate. We couldn’t decide what we wanted. We’d decide on one box and couldn’t leave behind mocha- god forbid. We ended up with 12 boxes. Needless to say, everyone is welcome to try the world’s best coffee. Our taxi cab driver picked up his 11 year old daughter, and drove us back to the ship. I went back and packed for Kuala Lampur. My first big independent trip!

A Day in the Life of

So I realize I don’t say much about ship life. Considering we’re on here for days upon days at a time, with no real connection to the outside world, I should probably do a little recap. Like I’ve said, there are 7 decks. Mason and I live in the most colorful, decorated room on the entire vessel. The walls are magnetic so we have an array of art dangling from magnets, pictures, maps, and various postcards and trinkets from every country thus far. We’re both collecting art so that’s a major part of our room.

Life on the ship is what you make of it.

Global studies is every morning. Horrible. Absolutely horrible. I mean, there are a lot of things we learn that’s interesting. A lot of it is just bad organization. Tests are horribly irrelevant and half are failing. The days are then divided into A days or B days. We have class any day we’re at sea- Saturday, Sunday, or any weekday. We have no comprehension of days here. It’s either A or B. Half the time you couldn’t tell if it was Wednesday or Sunday. It’s actually very liberating. It’s amazing how much emotional emphasis we place on days.

Social time is lunch or dinner. Food isn’t bad- but it gets old. We have the basics every day- salad bar, bread, a meat, fish, pasta, soup, and dessert. Taco day is like Christmas and birthdays combined. People cut classes early and the line will wrap around the dining hall. The 7th deck always has good food, but it costs money. Even that starts to get old though.

Before we get into any ports we have pre-ports two days beforehand. One day for cultural details (where to eat, what to do, etc.). The other is for logistics (where are we docking, what health scares to be afraid of, etc.) When in dock we’re pretty much free to do or go wherever we want in that country.

So that’s the bread and butter. Then there’s what we make of it. There’s the big things every year does: Sea Olympics, Ambassadors Ball, Students of Service Auction, etc. Then there is the things the programming board does. We are setting up a couple dances, the Mr. SAS, the crew talent show, and a No Talent Show. Then there’s other clubs or group who put things on. Coming up we have a Project Runway. Every sea has an ice cream social and another themed social. Coming up is a Chicago Ice Cream Social.

We’re our own little bubble here. We don’t have the luxury to be online all day or phone back home. We hear major news in Global Studies, but even then its twenty seconds or so. Haha, you know- I heard the Madonna song in a store in Malaysia and we tried buying it off them. Of course they’re like these Americans Jare CRAZY. We just wanted to hear what was new.

Most recently we had or Crew Talent Show. So our crew works their damn asses off. I mean- they take hard work to a whole new level. Every day and night, like clockwork, they are scurrying around the entire ship- wiping down the railings, vacuuming the carpets, hell, Stephanie saw one clipping the carpet hairs. They repaint the bottom of the ship at every port. We have a steward who makes our bed and cleans our room every day. His name is Hector, from the Philippines, and he’s a total sweetheart. Anyways, so the entire crew put on a talent show for us. Huge deal. Everyone was piled up in the union two hours to save seats. The dining hall staff, the housing staff, engineers- everyone did something. Everyone chipped in to raise money for them to get the same amenities as us in their quarters. It was one of the best nights on the ship itself. So cool. Plus- shy little Hector was full on shaking his booty. Haha!

You know you are on SAS when...

-Your bed is crazy military style tight everyday- thank you Hector.
- Your safety coordinator looks strangely like Nicholas Cage.
- Garbanzo beans, cheddar cubes, and potatoes ALWAYS make an appearance in every meal. No disguise fools us.
-It’s no coincidence that dinner on the Sea Olympics (potato sculpting contest anyone?) is ‘hosh posh potatoes’- and that’s verbatim.
- One word: smoothie.
- Three more words: Pool bar bill.
- When opening a door fulfills your upper body workout quota for the day.
- Living on the second deck is one killer leg workout.
- OMG- Heath Ledger died?!? ….. Three weeks ago.
- You’ve never owned more magnets in your entire life.
- You resort to pulling out board games on late nights.
- Your willing to pay the Malaysian shop owner just to listen to Madonna’s new song.
- When that doesn’t work out- you ask every club DJ.

Flowers the Elephant

Day 3: Woke up at 5:45 to get breakfast and head out before 7. First up on the schedule: riding an elephant. Oh, just in case you missed that- I GOT TO RIDE AN ELEPHANT! Probably top ten on the coolest things I’ve done in my life, equal to visiting the Taj Mahal. So our crazy tour guide is keen set on having our group do everything, be first, and could care less about the other groups. So we sped off to be the first in line for the elephants. On our way, we drove right by elephants just walking with their breakfast along the streets of town. You know, the usual. So we get in line and take the elephants up to the top, about a ten/fifteen minute ride or so, to the king’s palace. May I introduce the coolest elephant in town, Flowers. In Indian, of course, but my fluidity in the eleven Indian languages has gotten a bit muddled throughout the last couple years. The palace itself was pretty cool. The king had a dozen or so wives, and they each had their own rooms. His favorite would get a bath outside in the courtyard. Then, the concubines would be in smaller quarters, living together, on the second floor. Afterwards we headed to a textile place and watched how rugs are made as well as print making. Crap. There is so much behind a flimsy little rug. Each knot. The entire thing could take up to 11 months with several people working on it. After lunch at another buffet, we went to the current king’s palace. The other group actually saw and took pictures with him. We went to the market, far more exciting in my opinion. Here we go, some serious bragging rights right here- saw the world’s largest silver kettle. I know, who cares about the Taj when you could see that. Haha… I don’t even know why they make a kettle that big if you can’t even pick it up. It just sits outside with really strange tourists like myself taking ‘I’m a little teapot’ pictures in front of it. So FINALLY I got to go to a real market, not some overpriced gift shop market. FINALLY. Needless to say, I bought enough for everyone there to sustain a living for a year. Haha… What DIDN’T I buy? I bought a sari, table runner, pillow covers, over 100 bangles, shoes, a pashmina, an entire box of miniature elephants- for what, no idea, they were just cute- and I think that was it for round one. Not bad, right? Yeah… not bad for 30 US dollars. Then we went to dinner to the most adorable place, ever. It was a white building tucked away in the trees, all lit up. Our group at this long wooden table with the most adorable placemats ever- little leopard prints- AH! We were all thoroughly exhausted and not to mention thirsty- can’t drink from the tap, therefore you have to buy water EVERYWHERE, which I was too stubborn to do. So I decided to order a beer. Yes, well it sounded better than water. The waiter could not fathom why a women would order a beer. He thought it was a mistake. No, no I understand that I ordered a beer. No, I didn’t make a mistake, I assure you. Haha… Keep in mind, all the boys have ordered one at this point. A cultural thing to keep in mind. Anyways, we went back to the hotel and at this point everyone is exhausted. Wonderful night to sleep, you’d think. No. We had a 1:30 wake up call to leave by 2:30. So a group of us watched Derailed and Desperate Housewives. I can’t tell you how nice it was to see an American TV show, even if it was the first episode. Haha… the TV on ship is three channels at night only, and its movies for class. So bright and early at 2:30 we drove off for 5 hours or so, followed by a 2 and half hour flight, a one hour bus ride, and then waiting in the boiling heat with our bags to board the ship. Got to love the ugly side of traveling

Taj Mahal- and almost getting kicked out of it

*Woke up at the tender time of 4 AM to leave Delhi. Headed to the train station which was pretty much the craziest three minutes of my life. It’s pitch black, and all those lovely vehicles are brushing past you in a mad rush to the station. Meanwhile, you’re walking in between buses, and other moving objects, trying to cross the street with 60 other awkward Americans. The station itself reminds me of Europe, except there are bodies everywhere with blankets wrapped around them like cocoons. Except every now and then your wondering if it’s really a body because it’s so tiny. But, yeah, it is. A little rat runs across the tracks- yummy. Everyone is just staring at you, which believe it or not- you totally get used to by day 3. I actually run into my roommate Mason, which is amazing because I thought she wouldn’t have made her 12:40 flight the day before considering it was an hour away and we left the ship circa 11 or so. (She stepped on the plane at 12:38 precisely, no joke.) Then we went on the train to Agra. On the way we go between rice fields and shanties. We start to see people squatting. The people start to become prevalent. Hmm… what are they doing? Workers? Sitting, pondering life? No… most definitely shitting right there. Right next to your train. Hundreds of people just pulling down their pants and -viola!- potty time.

*After breakfast we headed to some structure- Taj Mehal? Taj Mahal? Something like that. It’s like, white? Haha… So we were dropped off at the beginning of a park. We were like where is it? We expected some huge looming building with life surrounding it. Instead, it’s tucked away in this huge park. Of course, the beggers and people selling things see the huge TOURIST bus and 194347327 cameras and go nuts. Which triggers this huge effect. EVERYONE on the street is suddenly alive. 10 for 100 rupee. Rickshaw? Maybe later, Madame. Remember my name. Madame, madame! Walking next to you the entire way holding up little globes of the Taj Mahal. Their little hands sticking things in your face. Then of course there are the crippled. Glued in your memory. The man- so little- with his right arm permanently draped behind his back and laying next to his left. The older man who dragged his body with his arms, with his foot limp and folded under as if boneless. Then you get to the turn before the entrance. Men stand behind sandbags with their guns sticking out. On a bench to your right are more with their guns just dangling in their hands.

*Before you enter the Taj is a giant courtyard with red buildings. Then you go through an arched building and there you have it. 22 years of work. Entirely marble. Embedded with rubies, emerald, and other precious stones. Perfectly proportional. The four pillars slanting so should there ever be an earthquake or anything, they would fall away from the main building. Oh, and 10938782 tourists. Haha…

*PS- Don’t feel inclined to take a picture with any handwritten signs. You will be harassed by your favorite gunmen and a fight with your guide in a rapid Indian language will ensue. I did not- but a couple girls in our group did.

*So the Taj Mahal was a gift from the king to his deceased wife. Before she died she made him promise him he would never marry again and remember her. So remember her she did and henceforth one of the 7 new world wonders. We stopped by a marble place and watched how they carved one stone, let alone thousands that are in the Taj. Impressive. Except it’s just like looking at a picture. I mean, I knew exactly what to expect. We all see them. The pictures pretending to hold it, or dangle it, or appear larger than it. Surprise surprise, it’s the same as the pictures. Except… you’re there going, ‘Oh my god, I am ACTUALLY here.’ The structure of it is undoubtedly beautiful and special. That isn’t why the experience is so unbelievable. It’s more of, I made it here. A sense of gratification that you have to be doing something right with your life to have gotten there by 20.

*Not to mention- the most BOMB picture I have ever taken in my life. EVER. But first, let’s talk about pictures. Be ready to have 3284 tourists walking RIGHT in front of your picture and 29473 behind it. Clearly, I’m taking a picture SIR. Thank you for joining me. Then, if you take a different angle or pose- EVERYONE will follow. A bunch of British men saw me take one pond up, and immediately assumed the same position, snapping away. As far as the best picture ever- well, you’ll just have to see. Can’t give it away now can I? Let’s just say maybe gymnastics paid off after all.

*After the Taj Mahal, we visited the fort the king was imprisoned in the last 8 years of his life- by his son. After for stopping for lunch, we started making our 6 hour drive to Jaipur. We stopped at another palace. Let me tell you- you haven’t lived until you have used the luxurious squat toilets smack dab in the middle of a fort. Then we walked to our bus, being swarmed by thousands of kids all expecting pens and gum- apparently what other tourists have given as the standard. Got in our bus and napped on and off for the next couples hours or so. It was hard because every now and then we’d come to a screeching halt, nearly crashing into the car in front of us- which was usually, convientently telling us HIGHLY FLAMMABLE in giant red paint. Nice. Oh, and the other time where it was almost a human- but who cares about those things. Right. So in comparison to the more urban setting in the South, this was more rural. Every now and then we’d hit a patch of stores, hundreds of people, and no homes. Then we’d go through huge patches of land, and repeat. The shops and areas with civilization was always different. After the entire trip, I still think I’d be in awe every time. You can’t really soak it all in. There would be areas that looked like a set out of Aladdin. You know, the wooden frames in front of little store fronts and tarps. Complete with monkeys and all. You’d have your fair share of fruit stands. Other stores had strips and strips of what I am assuming to be little candies hanging from the ceilings. Then, you’d have cows. Cows, cows, and more cows. Just chilling like nobodies business. We arrived in Jaipur late, had a quick dinner, and practically collapsed in bed. All the traveling has been so exhausting, but you want to keep your eyes open and see as much as you can.