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.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
*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!
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.
- 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.
Monday, March 17, 2008
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.
*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.
Indian Wedding Crasher
*Times lost: Who knows, I never knew where I was. Items lost: Well, I got an email from Maia saying, STOP LOSING THINGS. The only thing I lost was my appetite for American food slash ship food.
*India. Usually writing a blog is pretty easy for me. This time I’m utterly speechless. I have no idea how to capture what I saw with words. Unlike anything, any place I’ve ever been. We were docked on a dirty street, with run down buildings lining one side. Women would be on their knees, sweeping dirt off the street with make shift brushes. Piles and piles of black dirt. A train lined the other side. Rickshaws, motorcycles, taxis, buses, and trucks would push their way through the street. Workers would stare at you from their drivers seats, some even taking pictures. Before you left the dock, you had to go through a customs table. Soldiers would walk around with guns strapped to their back. At one point the tip of the gun brushed against our guides face.
*We headed to the airport immediately for Delhi. The drive there was unreal. No rules apply. You have thousands of vehicles squeezing in and out of traffic, of all kinds: rickshaws, motorcycles, mopeds, huge buses, tour buses, anything. If anything will kill you in India, it’s a bus. If it hits a human nobody cares. If it hits a cow, you’ll have everyone mourning.
*People wait in huge mounds to board the buses, which are basically run down and completely stuffed. Hundreds of eyes just stare at you from the dirty windows. Every now and then you’ll have people on motorcycle drivers staring at you while they’re driving, then whisper to the other person who will look too.
*The streets. Well, in the South it’s lined with shops and people just walking around barefoot. Cows will randomly be walking around the streets or congregating near shops, but not nearly as much as the North.
*Delhi. So we took a bus to our hotel in Delhi. We passed the embassies and what not, which was a stark contrast to everything else. This is where it gets good. Our hotel was unbelievable. We pulled into this massive, gorgeous structure. We were greeted with flowers and given dots on our foreheads. We were given drinks and there were welcome signs made with rice. Since I’m last, I got a room to myself. A suite. Complete with 2 porches, 2 big screen TVs, huge down comforter bed, a living room, and a little kitchen area. I was already on cloud nine. We went to a huge buffet, with musicians playing on drums and a flute. There was different types of traditional food and I tried nearly every one. You’ll see a big pattern with me: curry and white rice, with vaan. It was so good.
*After dinner Ashly and I wandered. We befriended these shop owners and played dress up with all their pashminas and shawls. As we were leaving, they wanted us to have a gift so we got a free pashmina. We refused to take it, but they literally started to throw it at us. We left laughing, wondering how the hell that just happened. We were about to go to bed, when we ran into a group murmuring something about a wedding. We wandered to the basement, where there was in fact a huge wedding. Sheets and flowers lined the halls. Petals were in designs all over the floors. Huge platforms of flowers were outside the reception hall. The inside was three massive rooms, with a HUGE center stage lined with flowers, they were draped above, behind, and placed in huge piles along the edges. I mean, it was unbelievable. An entire wall was lined with food. A huge table for salads, a traditional section, even a Chinese food section. Another wall lined with desserts. Hundreds of tables were filled with people, dressed lavishly in stunning saris. Apparently at its peak, over a thousand people were there. We were introduced to the bride and groom, took pictures with them, and talked to them briefly. Then we were invited to stay and join them for dessert. We had all these Indian delicacies. We talked to the cousin who said he was originally given the proposal, but their horoscopes did not align and it was then sent to the current groom. I thought that was fascinating. He also told us that they will go to their separate rooms tonight, then ask their deceased ancestors for their blessing and then they would be able to be together. After hanging out for a while, we watched as the bride was sent off. They slowly walk, stopping to hug, cry, kiss, and continue forward. It was interesting how they were so inviting and we got to watch this really emotional goodbye. Just an irony, as this is going on these two kids are ripping out these flowers, which probably cost a couple hundred thousand (seriously there must have been a million flowers scattered in and outside the room). Then they proceeded to beat each other with them. I think we pretty much all left wondering how this was our life. Seriously. How is this my life? I just crashed an Indian wedding.
*India. Usually writing a blog is pretty easy for me. This time I’m utterly speechless. I have no idea how to capture what I saw with words. Unlike anything, any place I’ve ever been. We were docked on a dirty street, with run down buildings lining one side. Women would be on their knees, sweeping dirt off the street with make shift brushes. Piles and piles of black dirt. A train lined the other side. Rickshaws, motorcycles, taxis, buses, and trucks would push their way through the street. Workers would stare at you from their drivers seats, some even taking pictures. Before you left the dock, you had to go through a customs table. Soldiers would walk around with guns strapped to their back. At one point the tip of the gun brushed against our guides face.
*We headed to the airport immediately for Delhi. The drive there was unreal. No rules apply. You have thousands of vehicles squeezing in and out of traffic, of all kinds: rickshaws, motorcycles, mopeds, huge buses, tour buses, anything. If anything will kill you in India, it’s a bus. If it hits a human nobody cares. If it hits a cow, you’ll have everyone mourning.
*People wait in huge mounds to board the buses, which are basically run down and completely stuffed. Hundreds of eyes just stare at you from the dirty windows. Every now and then you’ll have people on motorcycle drivers staring at you while they’re driving, then whisper to the other person who will look too.
*The streets. Well, in the South it’s lined with shops and people just walking around barefoot. Cows will randomly be walking around the streets or congregating near shops, but not nearly as much as the North.
*Delhi. So we took a bus to our hotel in Delhi. We passed the embassies and what not, which was a stark contrast to everything else. This is where it gets good. Our hotel was unbelievable. We pulled into this massive, gorgeous structure. We were greeted with flowers and given dots on our foreheads. We were given drinks and there were welcome signs made with rice. Since I’m last, I got a room to myself. A suite. Complete with 2 porches, 2 big screen TVs, huge down comforter bed, a living room, and a little kitchen area. I was already on cloud nine. We went to a huge buffet, with musicians playing on drums and a flute. There was different types of traditional food and I tried nearly every one. You’ll see a big pattern with me: curry and white rice, with vaan. It was so good.
*After dinner Ashly and I wandered. We befriended these shop owners and played dress up with all their pashminas and shawls. As we were leaving, they wanted us to have a gift so we got a free pashmina. We refused to take it, but they literally started to throw it at us. We left laughing, wondering how the hell that just happened. We were about to go to bed, when we ran into a group murmuring something about a wedding. We wandered to the basement, where there was in fact a huge wedding. Sheets and flowers lined the halls. Petals were in designs all over the floors. Huge platforms of flowers were outside the reception hall. The inside was three massive rooms, with a HUGE center stage lined with flowers, they were draped above, behind, and placed in huge piles along the edges. I mean, it was unbelievable. An entire wall was lined with food. A huge table for salads, a traditional section, even a Chinese food section. Another wall lined with desserts. Hundreds of tables were filled with people, dressed lavishly in stunning saris. Apparently at its peak, over a thousand people were there. We were introduced to the bride and groom, took pictures with them, and talked to them briefly. Then we were invited to stay and join them for dessert. We had all these Indian delicacies. We talked to the cousin who said he was originally given the proposal, but their horoscopes did not align and it was then sent to the current groom. I thought that was fascinating. He also told us that they will go to their separate rooms tonight, then ask their deceased ancestors for their blessing and then they would be able to be together. After hanging out for a while, we watched as the bride was sent off. They slowly walk, stopping to hug, cry, kiss, and continue forward. It was interesting how they were so inviting and we got to watch this really emotional goodbye. Just an irony, as this is going on these two kids are ripping out these flowers, which probably cost a couple hundred thousand (seriously there must have been a million flowers scattered in and outside the room). Then they proceeded to beat each other with them. I think we pretty much all left wondering how this was our life. Seriously. How is this my life? I just crashed an Indian wedding.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Mr. SAS-ailcious
**So after the Olympics my Criminal Law teacher decides it’s the MOST IDEAL day to take a midterm. Now, this is a voyage of discovery. I have discovered I am NOT good at law. No, no, no. Usually I pick up something and absorb it like a sponge. Causes, faults, intentions, etc etc. WHAT???? After a day of trying to focus, I had MR. SAS at night. Yet another committee and event I was on. We had a pre-port meeting before for India, and I was surprised how many people had showed up early to even that for good seats. The Union was packed. PACKED. It was so exciting to see something unveil itself successfully. The boys had been fundraising beforehand for 5 days to raise money for Students of Service. 11 contestants. 2 MC’S. Dr Brown and a student. They began with introductions that the boys worked on. Then the talent section. You had everything from break dancing, juggling, singing, and really tight ballroom dancing. Then they had personality questions, Ambassador wear, and escorts. Overall the boys raised 3,700 alone, not including the open tables we had during intermission and afterwards. In the end, Qi won. He’s this adorable student from China who is just Qi. Haha… Two really big events back to back. Too bad I had another test the day after. It’s been busy and hectic lately, but it’s only going to get worse.
**Tomorrow we’re porting in Chennai, India. I am going to be in both the North and South. I leave for an intense trip to Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur over the next 3 days or so. I’m going to the Taj Mahal, of course. But even just as exciting- I GET TO RIDE AN ELEPHANT! So stoked for that! Apparently this becomes the leg of the trip where everything begins to hit you. This country is the country of vast differences. We’ll see. I don’t know what to expect, except that there is a lot of shopping and learning to be done. And on a good note, I won MVP for my sea! Along with the ever amazing Grant. Not bad.
**Tomorrow we’re porting in Chennai, India. I am going to be in both the North and South. I leave for an intense trip to Delhi, Agra, and Jaipur over the next 3 days or so. I’m going to the Taj Mahal, of course. But even just as exciting- I GET TO RIDE AN ELEPHANT! So stoked for that! Apparently this becomes the leg of the trip where everything begins to hit you. This country is the country of vast differences. We’ll see. I don’t know what to expect, except that there is a lot of shopping and learning to be done. And on a good note, I won MVP for my sea! Along with the ever amazing Grant. Not bad.
Why I will NEVER eat Banana cream pie again!!
***The OLYMPICS. As football is to Superbowl or Miss Universe to pageantry. Hands down the best day at sea so far. Opening ceremonies was in the Union. Everyone came and did their cheers. Every floor is divided into seas, given colors, and two captains. We rolled in last and won. Of course, Grant wrote another bomb rap for us.
**Then the day becomes a smorgasbord of random competitions. Being on the committee, Jamie and I hosted the Toilet Paper Fashion Show. Then it was off to pie eating. Now keep in mind I was mega nervous. It was a women’s heat, fastest to finish an entire legit pie wins. I stepped in last second. In the guy’s heat, Conner won for Aegean and everyone was on a huge rush. They were like you have to win, you have to win. Great- no pressure right?? So here comes the next 2 minutes of my life. Banana cream. BANANA CREAM. So here’s a secret- I HATE pie. Unless it’s French silk or substantially devoured with chocolate. But a banana cream? Well, they counted down and here goes! No hands. 2 minutes of banana goodness. I had it on my nose, up my nose, on my chest, and at some point there was blood in the pan. But I won. I WON! I dominated! Turns out that there was a problem in judging and they threw it. THREW IT. So my big win is thrown out the window because of a bunch of dumb girls. That’s fine… toss out 500 points. I invite everyone who did to sit down and smother their face in pie and about 2976352623 calories of disgusting goodness. Anyways, then it was to watch sync swim, which we won. I was in potato sculpting, which is actually an irony considering the day after had ‘mashed potato’s’ at lunch. Yum. Then I had hosted the Dean Says. Blah. After dinner I helped our boys get ready for lip sync, which was phenomenal! Yellow sea did a bunch of rap songs, Caribbean did a Britney medley, Adriatic was pirate themed, so on so forth. 10 Seas. Ours was 5 guys doing Soldier Boy as a joke, then undressing into basically my entire wardrobe, and dancing to 90’s pop. You know- Barbie Girl, Spice Girls, and finishing with Britney Spears. AMAZING. I couldn’t be more happy with my sea. In the end we placed 2nd for lip sync, and 4th overall. Baltic won, which was out of left field. It was the best day ever and I couldn’t love my floor more. PS. The blood in the pie? Was a cut from the tin on my chin.
**Then the day becomes a smorgasbord of random competitions. Being on the committee, Jamie and I hosted the Toilet Paper Fashion Show. Then it was off to pie eating. Now keep in mind I was mega nervous. It was a women’s heat, fastest to finish an entire legit pie wins. I stepped in last second. In the guy’s heat, Conner won for Aegean and everyone was on a huge rush. They were like you have to win, you have to win. Great- no pressure right?? So here comes the next 2 minutes of my life. Banana cream. BANANA CREAM. So here’s a secret- I HATE pie. Unless it’s French silk or substantially devoured with chocolate. But a banana cream? Well, they counted down and here goes! No hands. 2 minutes of banana goodness. I had it on my nose, up my nose, on my chest, and at some point there was blood in the pan. But I won. I WON! I dominated! Turns out that there was a problem in judging and they threw it. THREW IT. So my big win is thrown out the window because of a bunch of dumb girls. That’s fine… toss out 500 points. I invite everyone who did to sit down and smother their face in pie and about 2976352623 calories of disgusting goodness. Anyways, then it was to watch sync swim, which we won. I was in potato sculpting, which is actually an irony considering the day after had ‘mashed potato’s’ at lunch. Yum. Then I had hosted the Dean Says. Blah. After dinner I helped our boys get ready for lip sync, which was phenomenal! Yellow sea did a bunch of rap songs, Caribbean did a Britney medley, Adriatic was pirate themed, so on so forth. 10 Seas. Ours was 5 guys doing Soldier Boy as a joke, then undressing into basically my entire wardrobe, and dancing to 90’s pop. You know- Barbie Girl, Spice Girls, and finishing with Britney Spears. AMAZING. I couldn’t be more happy with my sea. In the end we placed 2nd for lip sync, and 4th overall. Baltic won, which was out of left field. It was the best day ever and I couldn’t love my floor more. PS. The blood in the pie? Was a cut from the tin on my chin.
blog
chris.spalla@davidleadbetter.com for log in, my password is same as yours im not going to write it but you know it. Love you!
Friday, March 7, 2008
Wish me Luck!!!
Sea Olympics tomorrow!!! Wish us luck!!! I am personally now in a pie eating contest and potato sculpting lol!!
The day starts out with the opening ceremonies, cheers, banners, etc. Then its a full day of sports and random games. Then it ends with lip sync- which our boys are dancing to a bunch of 90's girls songs dressed as girls and then we win because we are ziplock tight!!
Also just want to say Happy 9 Month Anniversary to my baby love. I miss you and I love you baby!!!
The day starts out with the opening ceremonies, cheers, banners, etc. Then its a full day of sports and random games. Then it ends with lip sync- which our boys are dancing to a bunch of 90's girls songs dressed as girls and then we win because we are ziplock tight!!
Also just want to say Happy 9 Month Anniversary to my baby love. I miss you and I love you baby!!!
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
LIVE!!
*SOOO, some of you might wonder what I am actually learning. Totally valid question. I spend most days outside, soaking up some rays fresh off the equator. Well, let me ask you this: what does a dollar mean to you? One singular dollar bill. I personally LOVE the dollar store. You can get virtually anything there for a dollar. Dollar menu at Mc D’s. 100 Penny texting. It’s nothing. Dirt cheap.
*Here’s a dilemma: one out of six people live off less than $1 dollar a day. I can tell you one thing, if you’re reading this you’re on a computer. You’re not one of the six. Neither are your friends. Does that mean it’s not important? Just because you don’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not out there. 1.1 billion people lived in dire poverty. That means they struggle to find fresh water, shelter, food, etc. Because of these conditions, 20,000 people die a day. That’s like erasing an entire basketball arena in one day. Every day. If that doesn’t take your breath away, then I dare you to live one day on a dollar. I can’t do it. Can you?
*Since we’re on a role, let’s do another one. Who has bought Shell’s gas today? Recently? I know my family has. I have countless times. Now, if you do one thing today, Wikipedia the word ‘Ogoniland.’ Everyone knows Shell. They should- they profit 300 BILLION dollars a year. Pretty nice wad of cash in their pretty nice pockets isn’t it? But here’s the thing, they receive some of their gas in Africa. Their lines run through families farms. Every week, there is an average of 4 oil spills, most often caused by faulty lines (aka Shell’s fault). So these families means of making a living, feeding their family, and thriving is in jeopardy. What does Shell do when oil is running rampant on their land? Well, nothing. That’s right, absolutely NOTHING. Their crops are ruined, the children begin to die, and that’s that. Sometimes, if they are feeling guilty, they’ll burn it. After it’s burned, it’s useless. The land is ruined. I guess it’s convenient that Shell has enough power that they can turn their back and refuse to accept the responsibly for their mess, to this day. $300 Billion dollars and not one cent goes to these families. DISGUSTING, Shell.
*So what am I learning? I am learning how good it feels to stop looking at life from the American paradigm. It is the most frightening, tragic, and beautiful thing. The reality is we have it so good we don’t even know it. Being ‘broke’ to us implies taking out loans to help support college funds. Some people are so poor they couldn’t even get a $27 dollar loan to start a business (look up Grahmeen Bank). The slowly approaching 4 dollar a gallon tank takes out a huge chunk from our wallet, but does it kill our family? Literally kill our family? And a dollar. One dollar. That’s nothing. For some people, it’s the everything that lets them make it to the next day. The truth is we live in a paradigm.
*Let’s put it in perspective. 9/11 changed our country. Everyone talks of pre-9/11 and post-9/11 as a marker. There are people who live 9/11 every day of their lives. Terrorist attacks. Suicide bombings. Hundreds of children shot in Brazil by the police in favellas. 58 shot and killed when they protested against Shell’s treatment towards them. **At first, you think, ‘wow, this is depressing’. They’re not depressed. Some of them are the happiest people I’ve ever met. They live a life free of materialistic greed. All they ask for is enough to make a living. Land. Water. Food. At a school in Mauritius, I donated 200 rupee (roughly 8 dollars). 8 dollars doesn’t mean much of anything to me, but they asked in awe if I wanted change back. 8 dollars. The smallest difference helps. If everyone who could lived comfortably gave one dollar, that’s 5.6 billion dollars that could be used to make a difference. Maybe instead of gathering an army of children, Brad and Angelina could actually donate to the kids they leave behind, making a difference for all of them.
*This trip isn’t about learning when their constitution was written. It’s about learning how to live. You can keep saying ‘I want to go do this before I die.’ Or, you can just do it. We place all theses restraints on ourselves in a world of ‘can not’, ‘should not’, ‘will not’. We can stay blinded, or we can go outside our boundaries and live life. Set goals. Dream big. Make a difference. But most of all,
LIVE.
*Here’s a dilemma: one out of six people live off less than $1 dollar a day. I can tell you one thing, if you’re reading this you’re on a computer. You’re not one of the six. Neither are your friends. Does that mean it’s not important? Just because you don’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not out there. 1.1 billion people lived in dire poverty. That means they struggle to find fresh water, shelter, food, etc. Because of these conditions, 20,000 people die a day. That’s like erasing an entire basketball arena in one day. Every day. If that doesn’t take your breath away, then I dare you to live one day on a dollar. I can’t do it. Can you?
*Since we’re on a role, let’s do another one. Who has bought Shell’s gas today? Recently? I know my family has. I have countless times. Now, if you do one thing today, Wikipedia the word ‘Ogoniland.’ Everyone knows Shell. They should- they profit 300 BILLION dollars a year. Pretty nice wad of cash in their pretty nice pockets isn’t it? But here’s the thing, they receive some of their gas in Africa. Their lines run through families farms. Every week, there is an average of 4 oil spills, most often caused by faulty lines (aka Shell’s fault). So these families means of making a living, feeding their family, and thriving is in jeopardy. What does Shell do when oil is running rampant on their land? Well, nothing. That’s right, absolutely NOTHING. Their crops are ruined, the children begin to die, and that’s that. Sometimes, if they are feeling guilty, they’ll burn it. After it’s burned, it’s useless. The land is ruined. I guess it’s convenient that Shell has enough power that they can turn their back and refuse to accept the responsibly for their mess, to this day. $300 Billion dollars and not one cent goes to these families. DISGUSTING, Shell.
*So what am I learning? I am learning how good it feels to stop looking at life from the American paradigm. It is the most frightening, tragic, and beautiful thing. The reality is we have it so good we don’t even know it. Being ‘broke’ to us implies taking out loans to help support college funds. Some people are so poor they couldn’t even get a $27 dollar loan to start a business (look up Grahmeen Bank). The slowly approaching 4 dollar a gallon tank takes out a huge chunk from our wallet, but does it kill our family? Literally kill our family? And a dollar. One dollar. That’s nothing. For some people, it’s the everything that lets them make it to the next day. The truth is we live in a paradigm.
*Let’s put it in perspective. 9/11 changed our country. Everyone talks of pre-9/11 and post-9/11 as a marker. There are people who live 9/11 every day of their lives. Terrorist attacks. Suicide bombings. Hundreds of children shot in Brazil by the police in favellas. 58 shot and killed when they protested against Shell’s treatment towards them. **At first, you think, ‘wow, this is depressing’. They’re not depressed. Some of them are the happiest people I’ve ever met. They live a life free of materialistic greed. All they ask for is enough to make a living. Land. Water. Food. At a school in Mauritius, I donated 200 rupee (roughly 8 dollars). 8 dollars doesn’t mean much of anything to me, but they asked in awe if I wanted change back. 8 dollars. The smallest difference helps. If everyone who could lived comfortably gave one dollar, that’s 5.6 billion dollars that could be used to make a difference. Maybe instead of gathering an army of children, Brad and Angelina could actually donate to the kids they leave behind, making a difference for all of them.
*This trip isn’t about learning when their constitution was written. It’s about learning how to live. You can keep saying ‘I want to go do this before I die.’ Or, you can just do it. We place all theses restraints on ourselves in a world of ‘can not’, ‘should not’, ‘will not’. We can stay blinded, or we can go outside our boundaries and live life. Set goals. Dream big. Make a difference. But most of all,
LIVE.
Dodoland!!!
Times Lost: 2
Items Lost: 1 (Adios coconut ring from Brazil)
We had trouble locating- go figure- the bottom of the mountain to hike. We could not, for the life of us, find the right bus station. Despite asking countless people.
*WELCOME TO MAURITIUS, LAND OF THE DODO. Their claim to fame. Dodo magnets. Dodo bags. Dodo paintings. Dodo EVERYWHERE. It’s actually rather ugly and boring, if you ask me. The dodo, that is.
*Why we are here is a little beyond me. Next trip gets to go to Namibia instead. Lucky. Believe it or not, Mauritius is quite impressive. Some 900,000 tourists come each year. It’s popular among the Brit’s and South Africans. It’s among the countries leading trade and exports. Beautiful beaches. But still- I don’t quite understand why we stopped there. Filler? **Let’s see… the first day we tried to hike a mountain. We could not find the bottom. That’s probably for the best. The last time I exerted copious amounts of energy was drying my hair. Haha… kidding. Instead, we went to a beach. COMPLETELY ripped off by the taxi. He nearly tripled the price. Needless to say, I got my claws. After feeling robbed, you become this animal. Mom, you’d be so surprised. Now, I’m like queen of haggling. The beach was quiet and beautiful. The water is this light blue, with boat just floating nearby. Pine trees- go figure- line the beach. That night we went to the nearby English pub, which was quiet, but fun. Most SAS’ers bought villas on Flic en Flac beach. At first, I was jealous. After the fact, I am so happy I didn’t.
*The second day we went to Flic en Flac. The Semester at Sea people were huddled in their awfully white group. It reminded me of the kids at Operation Hunger. Too scared to branch out. Not to mention giving Americans a horrible name for ourselves. I don’t want to be known as some drunk, being rude and tasteless to locals. That’s just me. That beach was pretty, but god was it hot. My chin was burnt (I swear I put sunscreen on Mom) and blistered pretty badly. The sand and salt water burned. BURNED. We walked to the edge of town (see times lost) and ended up at a cute little restaurant. God, was the Chinese food good. Haha, of course some of the best Chinese food I’ve had be in MAURITIUS?!? Ha. Afterwards we walked back and stayed on the beach a bit longer. Then I fought with a taxi cab driver or two (told you, I’m getting pretty good). Of course, the one we go home with (500 rupee!! Bargain!) is like doing errands. You need a pass to go into the port, and he left us in the parking lot while he went and bought one for like ten minutes. That night we had a great conversation with a bunch of girls and just kept talking and talking. It’s always nice to meet people who agree that this trip should be more than drinking, and actually experiencing the world. Not blacking out in it.
*The third day I got to go visit an elderly home. I wish we had more opportunity to interact with the people. Then we went to a school that helps teach disabled kids how to create handicrafts in order to sustain a living for themselves. They set out beautiful jewelry that lined the walls that we could buy. Somebody reading this is getting a really meaningful souvenir to me. Could it be you? We’ll see! **Then we went to a school for kids with special educational needs. They did not pass the test to get into high school so this school takes education at different speeds so everyone can learn. It helps give kids confidence. It is an NGO, which means the government does not support it. It is three small rooms and run by three people. We got to interact with kids between 12 and 14. We drew, played tic tac toe (or Oncz? to them ), and played with the cameras. They showed us how to weave gorgeous baskets, paint, and make picture frames. Since I collect art from every country I bought a painting there. It is donation only. By buying their work, it inspires them to create more. The boy who painted my friends art was shocked that some worldly ‘privileged’ American would buy his art- which shows him to continue with his talent. Like I said in another post, 200 rupee is nothing, only 8 American dollars, but they were so grateful. They said how much a difference and help it is. Before we left, my favorite girl ran up to me and Jamie, held our hands and walked down the street with us. Rows and rows of Americans and Mauritian kids holding hands, together as one, walking towards the most beautiful picturesque spot. Jamie turned to me and told me that this would be a memory that would stick out to her on the entire voyage. You know, it definitely will.
*That night I spent time at the waterfront. It’s by far the most updated area of the island, its capital. You take water taxis from the ship to it for 2 dollars. It’s a street with a casino, several restaurants (McDonalds, Pizza Hut, and KFC), and a beautiful shopping mall. I bought several straw bags, a shirt, and what not. Spent the night exchanging pictures with my friends. **Final day. I lucked out. I got a free trip to an adventure park. They drove us into the middle of the island. Something I forgot to mention- it is a huge pilgrimage for the Hindus right now. They believe Shiva carried water from the Ganges to a body of water in Mauritius. They travel by foot- for some, days- to the holy water. Parades line the streets. People dressed in white carrying huge platforms with red and yellow flowers to bring to Shiva. Anyways, we’re driving along the route that the people are walking along. The park is basically a big obstacle course. The entire time your harnessed in along a cable. You walk along bridges suspended in this rainforest. Soon, the bridges lose their railings. Once you work your way up it becomes harder. You swing on ropes from platform to platform. Another is swinging platforms. Then there are two ropes you cling onto and climb down. Then one. Then a zip line. Finally, ugh, four ropes. 2 for your feet, 2 for your hands. Course I laugh at the girl who went in front of me who fell. Your suspended so once you fall you have to work it out. Payback: I fall too. Except I could not get up. I made it to squatting position and fell yet again. Eventually the guy just had to drag my cable… Hahaha… Then we stopped by the beach one last time. Then I stopped along the waterfront for some last minute shopping. That was that.
Coming up: *Final Captain’s Challenge tomorrow night
Sea Olympics on the 8th (I’m on the committee so I helped plan it!)- Winner gets first off the ship in Miami
Mr. SAS on the 9th (also on the committee!)
Above all, INDIA!!!!!!
Items Lost: 1 (Adios coconut ring from Brazil)
We had trouble locating- go figure- the bottom of the mountain to hike. We could not, for the life of us, find the right bus station. Despite asking countless people.
*WELCOME TO MAURITIUS, LAND OF THE DODO. Their claim to fame. Dodo magnets. Dodo bags. Dodo paintings. Dodo EVERYWHERE. It’s actually rather ugly and boring, if you ask me. The dodo, that is.
*Why we are here is a little beyond me. Next trip gets to go to Namibia instead. Lucky. Believe it or not, Mauritius is quite impressive. Some 900,000 tourists come each year. It’s popular among the Brit’s and South Africans. It’s among the countries leading trade and exports. Beautiful beaches. But still- I don’t quite understand why we stopped there. Filler? **Let’s see… the first day we tried to hike a mountain. We could not find the bottom. That’s probably for the best. The last time I exerted copious amounts of energy was drying my hair. Haha… kidding. Instead, we went to a beach. COMPLETELY ripped off by the taxi. He nearly tripled the price. Needless to say, I got my claws. After feeling robbed, you become this animal. Mom, you’d be so surprised. Now, I’m like queen of haggling. The beach was quiet and beautiful. The water is this light blue, with boat just floating nearby. Pine trees- go figure- line the beach. That night we went to the nearby English pub, which was quiet, but fun. Most SAS’ers bought villas on Flic en Flac beach. At first, I was jealous. After the fact, I am so happy I didn’t.
*The second day we went to Flic en Flac. The Semester at Sea people were huddled in their awfully white group. It reminded me of the kids at Operation Hunger. Too scared to branch out. Not to mention giving Americans a horrible name for ourselves. I don’t want to be known as some drunk, being rude and tasteless to locals. That’s just me. That beach was pretty, but god was it hot. My chin was burnt (I swear I put sunscreen on Mom) and blistered pretty badly. The sand and salt water burned. BURNED. We walked to the edge of town (see times lost) and ended up at a cute little restaurant. God, was the Chinese food good. Haha, of course some of the best Chinese food I’ve had be in MAURITIUS?!? Ha. Afterwards we walked back and stayed on the beach a bit longer. Then I fought with a taxi cab driver or two (told you, I’m getting pretty good). Of course, the one we go home with (500 rupee!! Bargain!) is like doing errands. You need a pass to go into the port, and he left us in the parking lot while he went and bought one for like ten minutes. That night we had a great conversation with a bunch of girls and just kept talking and talking. It’s always nice to meet people who agree that this trip should be more than drinking, and actually experiencing the world. Not blacking out in it.
*The third day I got to go visit an elderly home. I wish we had more opportunity to interact with the people. Then we went to a school that helps teach disabled kids how to create handicrafts in order to sustain a living for themselves. They set out beautiful jewelry that lined the walls that we could buy. Somebody reading this is getting a really meaningful souvenir to me. Could it be you? We’ll see! **Then we went to a school for kids with special educational needs. They did not pass the test to get into high school so this school takes education at different speeds so everyone can learn. It helps give kids confidence. It is an NGO, which means the government does not support it. It is three small rooms and run by three people. We got to interact with kids between 12 and 14. We drew, played tic tac toe (or Oncz? to them ), and played with the cameras. They showed us how to weave gorgeous baskets, paint, and make picture frames. Since I collect art from every country I bought a painting there. It is donation only. By buying their work, it inspires them to create more. The boy who painted my friends art was shocked that some worldly ‘privileged’ American would buy his art- which shows him to continue with his talent. Like I said in another post, 200 rupee is nothing, only 8 American dollars, but they were so grateful. They said how much a difference and help it is. Before we left, my favorite girl ran up to me and Jamie, held our hands and walked down the street with us. Rows and rows of Americans and Mauritian kids holding hands, together as one, walking towards the most beautiful picturesque spot. Jamie turned to me and told me that this would be a memory that would stick out to her on the entire voyage. You know, it definitely will.
*That night I spent time at the waterfront. It’s by far the most updated area of the island, its capital. You take water taxis from the ship to it for 2 dollars. It’s a street with a casino, several restaurants (McDonalds, Pizza Hut, and KFC), and a beautiful shopping mall. I bought several straw bags, a shirt, and what not. Spent the night exchanging pictures with my friends. **Final day. I lucked out. I got a free trip to an adventure park. They drove us into the middle of the island. Something I forgot to mention- it is a huge pilgrimage for the Hindus right now. They believe Shiva carried water from the Ganges to a body of water in Mauritius. They travel by foot- for some, days- to the holy water. Parades line the streets. People dressed in white carrying huge platforms with red and yellow flowers to bring to Shiva. Anyways, we’re driving along the route that the people are walking along. The park is basically a big obstacle course. The entire time your harnessed in along a cable. You walk along bridges suspended in this rainforest. Soon, the bridges lose their railings. Once you work your way up it becomes harder. You swing on ropes from platform to platform. Another is swinging platforms. Then there are two ropes you cling onto and climb down. Then one. Then a zip line. Finally, ugh, four ropes. 2 for your feet, 2 for your hands. Course I laugh at the girl who went in front of me who fell. Your suspended so once you fall you have to work it out. Payback: I fall too. Except I could not get up. I made it to squatting position and fell yet again. Eventually the guy just had to drag my cable… Hahaha… Then we stopped by the beach one last time. Then I stopped along the waterfront for some last minute shopping. That was that.
Coming up: *Final Captain’s Challenge tomorrow night
Sea Olympics on the 8th (I’m on the committee so I helped plan it!)- Winner gets first off the ship in Miami
Mr. SAS on the 9th (also on the committee!)
Above all, INDIA!!!!!!
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