“JAPAN: Island of Elegance and Extravagance”

I grew up reading a book called, Sianora Mrs. Suckleman. I don’t remember what it was about except that there was a little boy and girl in Japan and I loved dreaming about that foreign place. I always imagined my brother and I running around Japan - him dressed up with his hair in little ties like when he was three and we dressed him up. Japan wasn’t exactly like the picture book of my childhood, but it was just as magical.

I found magic in the ancient Buddhist and Shinto shrines whose angular, curved lines and vivid colors are juxtaposed next to the skyscrapers that stand near them. I found magic in the beautiful Japanese maple trees whose leaves have turned stunning crimson and gold hues. I found magic in the view from the observation deck looking over all of Tokyo and onwards to Mount Fugi at sunset. And the hundreds of little girls dressed up in geisha komonos with their hair all done up on Sunday was magical and adorable.

I saw five cities: Kobe, Kyoto, Nara, Tokyo, and Yokohoma – all of which had special character. The time of year was perfect for walking around under the shadows of the fall trees along little streets, which seemed to connect to more endless little alleys. There is something so serene about Japan – all the people are soft spoken and do not get loud; except maybe when you walk into a store and they greet you in cute high-pitched voices. Even in the heavily populated Tokyo I didn’t hear the honking or feel the hustle of places like India or New York.

Although Kobe is the home of the famous beef, I refrained from the $150 meal. Expense is a trend in Japan. Every meal was about $20 and you could not even sleep in a little capsule bed for less than $50. Not exactly a student budget. I only saw Kyoto for an evening, but it was a very cool place with lots of activity and it glowed at night. All the smaller towns around Tokyo are popular for tourists and Japanese alike on weekends so every single hotel or hostel in Kyoto was booked. After a 3-hour search, my friend and I narrowed down our options to sleeping on a hostel couch, staying up all night (with our big backpacks), sneaking into a hidden computer room I stumbled upon earlier, sleeping on a park bench, or going back to the ship to sleep. We settled for the latter, although I will admit it wasn’t the real backpacker route.

Determined not to fail again the next day, we set out for Nara, home of the Giant Buddha. Nara was incredible because we saw so much in just one big park. I couldn’t help but think of my mom and her love for any and everything Japanese. I can appreciate her taste because the Japanese are very exquisite people in their style, their architecture, and their manners. The Big Buddha was incredible and other smaller, but equally magnificent golden statues surrounded it. A special characteristic of Nara was its abundance of deer. Upon sighting the first one I was so excited and took tons of pictures only to soon realize that there was no lack of them and that they were very eager to come right up to you. The most hilarious moment was when I looked over to see a Japanese man in a suit with about 10 deer surrounding him while he fed them.

The Harijuku district of Tokyo has some killer shopping, as it is one of the fashion capitals of the world. I loved seeing the Lolita style – the “doll-like,” done-up fashion of some Japanese women. I even went into a store (which was playing techno Disney music) to play dress up before I was told no pictures were allowed. The Shibuya area was aglow with Christmas decorations and I couldn’t help stopping by Starbucks for some seasonal hot chocolate. Nearby, at the Shibuya crossing, the biggest crossing in the world, I saw hundreds of people walk across the street that millions cross each day. This isn’t hard to imagine since Tokyo is the biggest city in the world. Even a midnight train is packed like rush hour with everyone from businessmen to kids crammed in. Public transportation is incredible though and the trains are so timely that I even watched one leave a group of Americans standing right in front of it.

One of my highlights of Japan was seeing the fish market in Tokyo. Listed as the number one thing to do in Japan, I decided it was worth the 3am wakeup to get there. Because public transportation doesn’t run from 12-5am our only option was to take the $50 taxi ride. Once there, however, the excitement of the fish coming in was well worth it. The place was huge and the narrow aisles of fish chopping, throwing, tossing, slicing, and preparing went on forever. We spent a few hours walking up and down in awe, smiling at the men hard at work and saying “arigato,” aka “thanks for letting us stare at you while you work.” I saw every kind of fish there is from eels to enormous tuna laid out to be bid on at the daily auction. The auction didn’t start till 6am but we had to get there early because the amount of people allowed into the fish market is capped at 145 people. I left the market exhausted, but looking forward to some authentic fresh Japanese sushi.

This was the last international port…I’m pretty bummed. I think I could travel the world for the rest of my life. Maybe I will do just that…stay tuned!

“It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it’s the journey that matters, not the end” –Ursula K. LaGuin

Hong Kong, Beijing, & Shanghai – CHINA: the Vertical Nation of Miscommunication

THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA!

Hong Kong at Sunset - View from the Ship!

Panda Hat! And Bamboo of course!

 My Chinese adventure began in Hong Kong, which is still considered separate from China. I had to spend a lot of my time there trying to get a Chinese visa. Thus, Hong Kong for me was RUSH RUSH….wait. I clearly misjudged the Chinese because I thought they were orderly and efficient but this wasn’t the case at the visa office where 2-hour lines were the norm. After rushing over to the Chinese Ministry office, I realized they had JUST closed for lunch. I killed time going to lunch at a local spot where it was obvious that I was the only white girl and the whole menu was in Chinese. My first cultural roadblock.

The rest of the day and the next were spent on a wild hunt for the visa. I was told I couldn’t get it till the following afternoon but when I showed up at 3pm the next day I needed $200 in Hong Kong Dollars and no credit card was allowed. Unfortunately all my money ($200 exactly) was on the ship. I then began my mad dash through the city. Luckily, I conquered the subway system but it was still a fight against the hundreds of Asians perusing the mall that was connected to the ship’s terminal. Then I made another citywide sprint to the train station that led out to the airport. I had another stressful wait as the train sped towards the airport. Arriving at 5:30 when my flight left at 6 was beyond stressful but I was determined not to miss that flight to Beijing. And I didn’t, despite the odds against me such as a gate change and the impossibly gigantic airport. Although Hong Kong was a busy blur, it was fun. I enjoyed my night out there as well, especially the killer view from the Intercontinental while I was there with some friends.

I was so excited to finally catch up with my group and guide in Beijing, and when I arrived at the Red Wall Hotel all my friends were wearing these hilarious panda hats. By the end of the trip, if you didn’t have one you were not really in China. We went out into the freezing cold and bar hopped along an icicle-draped road and danced the Beijing night away. The next morning the sightseeing began with trips to the Forbidden City (the emperor’s palace) and Tiananmen Square – the biggest square in the world. We ended the day in shopper’s paradise, the Silk Road. It was laden with jackets to combat the cold on the Great Wall and knockoffs to die for. Although my mother probably won’t believe this, I wasn’t too interested in shopping so I sat down at a restaurant with 3 German guys. “Prost!” they said, the German word for cheers, and informed me that Mercedes Benz was paying them good money to go out drinking every day in Beijing. How they accomplished this I do not know!

A two-hour drive took us to the epic Great Wall of China. We had dinner at the base of the wall and then braced our bodies for the 10-degree night we would spend sleeping on the wall. It was a long, cold night spent snuggling up in our sleeping bags trying to keep warm. I was worth it though as the next day we had a gorgeous 3-mile hike across the wall. At the end, I was so thirsty that I convinced a Chinese man to give me some water. I was so happy that I gave him a huge hug. It’s the little things like standing on the top of the Great Wall hugging a little China man that make this trip incredible. Looking out of the watchtower into the mountains and across the winding wall wasn’t a bad experience either.

The day continued with a trip to the Olympic Stadium back in Beijing. There are two adjacent buildings – the Crow’s Nest and the Ice Cube that are really incredible works of architecture and their names reflect what they look like. One of the absolute highlights though was the Kung Fu show we saw. It was like a Chinese Cirque De Soleil but for only $15. It was quality entertainment and I laughed and cheered the entire time. Those Asian men can flip, jump, and kick in an impressive way.

 We killed time waiting for the overnight train to Shanghai by grubbing on Micky D’s. Although we gag from it in US, McDonald’s tastes amazing in different countries. It’s not that we are desperate for American food – we get it on the ship, it’s because it really is delish! I would also like to add here that surprisingly there are just as many if not more KFCs around the world. Two hundred of us got on the train where there were 2 bunks to each cabin and I was pumped to discover the complimentary slippers they gave us. The 11-hour train ride was a blast  - quality social time and I met a lot of new students that I hadn’t met before. I didn’t sleep much but it was a ton of fun, especially since I’d never been on a sleeper train before.

When we got to the ship in Shanghai we were faced with a 3-hour line to get onto the ship. I took a moment of wondering why the ship cannot be more efficient – they have to check ids, passports, and search each individual’s belongings looking for anything that cannot be brought onboard. To kill time while the line went down we went to the Hyatt for an unbelievable buffet breakfast. It was the most amazing buffet spread I have EVER seen – although expensive it was worth every penny. They had everything you could wish for and when I asked for OJ or hot chocolate they brought the best OJ and hot chocolate ever.

Although all I wanted to do was sleep, I “rallied” and went out exploring Shanghai. Here I found more culture shocks. A Chinese boy came up to me to shake my hand and tell me he loved me. Then I tried to take a taxi back to the ship but got lost because communicating in Chinese difficult – I often drew pictures of a boat to tell them where to take me. At one point I was dropped off somewhere random so that I had to take a psychedelic tunnel under the harbor to make it back to the ship. Only in Asia would they have a “site seeing tunnel” that was a crazy light show with bizarre crying baby mixed with rocket ship sounds blaring from the speakers. My night out in Shanghai was really fun with a dinner where they cooked on the table in front of you, and an evening watching crazy dancers in an authentic Chinese club.

On the last day I went to the Shanghai Zoo and absolutely loved it. The leaves had turned gorgeous colors and I enjoyed the scenery just as much as the animals. The highlights were the Panda bears and the grizzly bear. The Chinese are allowed to throw food to the animals so the bears and elephants would sit up like dogs begging for food. Quite the scene. The zoo also had every kind of domesticated dog you could imagine and it was so funny to see dogs on display just like a pet shop.

In some closing thoughts, everywhere we went it was incredible to see gorgeous, vertical cities rising against the water. I thought Singapore was incredible but Hong Kong and Shanghai had even more breathtaking views. As we left the port it took many hours to get out of the canal and into the ocean. It seemed Shanghai’s high rises went on forever and you have to wonder just have far they can expand outward and upward before the planet buckles under the weight of all these buildings and people.

“Look away, look back, you’re in Laos”

Laos Love!

Her name's Monster - shes the cutest monster I've ever seen!

The 1st Pencils of Promise school ever built! Its in a village called Phatheung, Laos

The meaning of this quote is two-fold. First, it is true that when I looked away, then looked back, my passport, money, and phone – everything in my money belt was gone. Poof! But this phrase also comes from the hilarious Old Spice commercial that IB kept quoting after I finally made it to Luang Prabang (Lao headquarters for an NGO I interned for called Pencils of Promise -PoP).

I had just arrived Laos when my world came crashing down. I realized I was alone, in a foreign country, where the people speak little English, with no money or identification and the US embassy was closed. But, this is what it is like to travel; things don’t always go as planned and you have to figure it out. And I did. I ran around the capital city, Vientiane, for two days going back and forth between the US embassy, the immigration police station, the local police station, the western union, the Laos consulate, and the Vietnamese and Chinese embassies. All in all I made a total of 20 trips walking back and forth between these places. I learned that in Laos, as in much of the world, bureaucracy is slow and things are not going to happen in a hurry. For example, when I was at the local police station, all the “bosses” who had to sign my police report were at lunch. Three hours later they were still at lunch, then, “oh I forgot, they went to a meeting, come back tomorrow.” Even the Chinese embassy closed before lunch on Friday.

It was an adventure though and I stayed positive with a mission of making it to Luang Prabang, even if for only an afternoon. At night instead of sulking in my room I walked around the safe, backpacker area of Vientiane. One night I met two Finnish boys who shared some of their “snake and scorpion lao lao” with me. It was whiskey in a bottle that also contained a cobra and scorpion. If there was ever a drink that tasted “snakey” this is it – gross! I also met a Swiss guy who was spending a year traveling the world on his own. We got caught up talking about the joys of traveling alone and after three hours I had to sprint back to my hotel before they locked me out. In Laos there is a curfew – hotels and guesthouses all lock their doors around 11 or 12 and if you don’t make it back in time you could be SOL. He was a really interesting guy who made me realize that in the midst of trying to overcome a huge hurdle all by myself, I decided I love traveling alone and would do it all again.

Finally, I got everything done and jumped on a plane headed for Luang Prabang. I met Daak Fi (Leslie, the American PoP country director) for my 24-hour visit just as the huge red sun set into the mountains. It was every bit of wonderful I imagined it to be. Riding on the back of motor bikes, drinking Beer Lao along the Mekong, balling rice in my hands, perfecting the greeting “saw-bai-dee,” getting some longhorn love from a friend named Ryan, going to the local dance club, and hearing all about Pencils of Promise updates made the trip amazing.

Unfortunately, I missed meeting Lanoy, the Lao woman who is the local PoP director with an incredible heart and charming personality. She would have normally been the woman to give me a “Lao name” but luckily a man named Hong – we nicknamed him Arnold, Arnie for short - decided it should be “Nong Malai,” meaning young flower. Arnold was a constant joke because he was the first Lao man Daak Fi and IB (Leslie’s boyfriend) had ever seen who was so built and muscular. “You’re so jacked – will you fight someone so we can watch?” or “Please take off your shirt Arnold, we would like a free dinner.” I thought this was hilarious – especially when we went to the dance club and Arnie went to the bathroom just to change into a muscle shirt.

The highlight of the trip was going to see the first Pencils of Promise school ever built. We took a gorgeous motorbike ride out to a little village along the river called Phatheung. It was just as I had imagined – flocks of adorable kids thrilled to see us. I met the children whose names had become famous in the PoP office. Monster, the center of several photos hanging in the office became the star of all of mine. We played with all the kids for several hours, running from the soccer field in front of the school, to the river where they went swimming. The kids would leap from the bank and belly flop into 1 foot of water and mud then swim out. I wanted to wade in to join them but instead, to everyone’s entertainment, I sunk into about 2 feet of mud and got stuck.

We played shirts and skins soccer, sang sogs, played a funny animal-name game, and had an arm wrestle tournament that Arnie intensely judged. As each of the boys came up to battle, they would rip off their shirts to emphasize their manliness. I loved holding their little hands all day and photographing their beautiful smiles. It was far too short of a trip and I am determined to make it back to see more of this incredible country.


“Agape la Vida” – Andre Ramadan

I came back to the ship still beaming from the end of my time in Laos and dreaming up plans for my future. But, I quickly found out a fellow shipmate, Andre had died tragically and unexpectedly. In his memorial service one student mentioned a wonderful saying of Andre’s, which is both Greek and Spanish, “agape la vida.” – unconditional love of life. I really cherish this quote and think it brings so much meaning to this trip. I truly love my life, I am so happy, and I am thrilled that I didn’t let a minor bump in the road keep me down. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the support of my amazing parents, faithful friends and the Lao people. Your love sustains my unconditional love for life, so thank you!

Taking India on a Tuktuk

Our TUK TUK! Lala is the wonderful little man sitting down!

Krista and Tori were FABULOUS friends to see the Taj with!

Handing out pencils at Gandhi's memorial..before the police chased the boys away.

I can’t decide whether to keep my eyes open or closed as I am squeezed between two other girls in an auto-rickshaw, the Indian “TukTuk,” and we are slashing through the chaotic traffic of trucks, other rickshaws, cars, cows, and cyclists. We are on an intense mission to get to the Taj Mahal before the ticket office closes so we can see it at sunset. Danger is no object and traffic rules don’t exist when we are on this kind desperate race against the sun. Alas, the speeding and sprinting through the streets of Agra failed and the ticket office was closed. The thrill of the chase was worth it though, and not to worry I got to see the incredible marble glowing beneath the sun from across the river at sunset and right up close the following morning at sunrise.

Every minute in India seemed almost as much of a rush as that rickshaw ride. Hitting one city per day, we saw as much of this incredible subcontinent as we could. Beginning with the huge city of Mumbai (formerly called Bombay and actually still called Bombay by all the Indians) I fell in love with India. Bombay is fantastically exotic because it combines the dirty beggars and trash filled streets and waterways with the most beautiful trees that look like they were imported from the rainforest. Surrounded by water, this city brings the term “concrete jungle” to life. I half expected to see a tiger chilling next to the little kid asleep on the sidewalk.

The classes I had taken, the books I had read, and the pre-port lectures I heard about the complexity of India and the love I would find there were dead on, yet hardly prepared me for the extremities I found there. In keeping up with my anthropological observations, I have to note India really surprised me. I had this preconceived notion that the genuine hospitality and devotion of the Indian people was going to blow me away and when I didn’t immediately experience this I was disappointed. All I encountered for the first few days was in-your-face tagic begging and the strongly held belief that since I was white I had all kinds of money to throw around. Indians charge 5 times the amount to tourists as they do to locals and it can be really frustrating to be treated as such a foreigner when you are trying to understand a complex country. But, as I got deeper into my travels, I was able to see that shinning charisma that I knew must be there.

In Bombay a fellow-SAS student and native Indian invited our group of 7 into his home. Not evening knowing me before that moment, I was offered a place to shower, eat and a driver to take me where I pleased. His mother (along with their 4 “helpers”) prepared an incredible Indian meal with tastings from all parts of India. It was the kind of meal that no matter how full you are; you are drawn to keep eating serving after serving, desert after desert. The Columbian and Mexican boys I was traveling with decided that they MUST learn how to cook this way and open an Indian restaurant in their counties so that they can become millionaires. It really takes a home-cooked meal to appreciate the power of good food.

Shantaram is a huge book that I read in my time leading up to India and it was the source for my desire to go to Bombay to see the slums, Leopold restaurant, and find my own equivalent of the charming character, Prabaker. I was disappointed when the closest I got to being inside the slums was a smelly fish market and I didn’t find my Prakbar in Bombay. However, I did see the terrorist-attacked Leopold’s and it was so surreal being in the real place that I'd read so much about. Then, in Agra, I finally met my Prabaker – his name is Lala.

He picked us up from our hotel and we sent him on a mission to grab a bottle of wine and watch the sun set over the Taj. What was originally going to be a one-way drop off turned into an afternoon and evening of trusting Lala and his young friend to take us any and everywhere. On our adventures through the town Lala insisted that we didn’t need to pay him, that money was not as important as showing us a good time. And that he certainly did with a smile on his face and a wiggle of his head. I have to interject here to say that the Indian “head wiggle” or ("waggle" depending on how you look at it) is one of the most interesting and simultaneously hilarious cultural motions I have ever seen. It is this movement of the head that look as if it has actually become disjointed from the neck. It is their way of saying yes, or agreeing with you, but you always wonder how sure they are since it kind of looks like they are shaking their head ‘no.’ Quite funny.

We ended our evening with him in a souvenir store where we found ourselves immersed in converstaion with the shopkeeper (Amin) as we bargained away our money. Amin was quite the businessman and convinced us to post our praises on Trip Advisor.com in exchange for good deals, whiskey shots, and a free headband.

Amin described Lala as “long in everything but his height.” This holds so much accuracy as Lala was about 4 foot 8 but so genuine and enthusiastic. Lala’s faithful 12year-old companion (of whom we never learned the name of) had a crush on me and whispered in my ear, “I have a gift for you and only you but it is a secret so don’t tell the other girls.” The gift turned out to be a bracelet that I will always cherish. I also learned that this boy had never been to school because it was too expensive. Despite this, he spoke excellent English and a little Spanish that he had picked up from riding around the tuktuk with Lala. I couldn’t have been happier to meet those two incredible Indians.

I myself was also a source of entertainment for Indians many times when they begged to take pictures with curious American girls, and once when my sari was falling off me (because I had no idea how to wear it) and all these Indian women laughed and laughed at my cluelessness…while they helped me fix it of course.

Some other amazing highlights from India included riding an elephant in Jaipur, going to an orphanage in Chennai, getting henna on my hands, holding an Indian baby girl who wore little bangles on her wrists, driving a rickshaw on the crazy streets, and seeing Gandhi’s memorial in Delhi. My only regret from India was that I didn’t get to go to the religious city of Varanasi, which sits on the Ganges River. I think that maybe I was not meant to go there because when I come back to India, I will be able to experience that holy site not as a tourist, but as a lover of India. In my future travels after Semester at Sea, it will be my ultimate goal to spend enough time in a place that I really get to feel how the people there live. For now though, I wouldn’t have had my first taste of India any other way.

“I meant what I said, and I said what I meant…An elephant’s faithful – one hundred percent!
-Dr. Seuss Horton Hatches the Egg

Quote explanation: In most of the world I have been concerned about pick pocketers and misguidance. India is different. After I got past the barrier of “rich white tourist” I learned that Indians don’t want to overcharge you or lie to you about the quality of something – it goes against their basic beliefs. That night in the store, as Amin promised us a good deal and Lala refused money for driving us I realized that Indians and the beautiful elephants of their country are similar in their faithful honesty.

Cape Town, SOUTH AFRICA – UBUNTU “I am because we are”

Strawberry picking with Erin!

The township!

Erin and I had a BLAST on our wine tour in Stellenbosh!

Girls dancing for us in front of Mama Ellen's home

The backdrop of Cape Town is breathtaking. Table Mountain and Lion’s Head tower over this rocky coastal city and as clouds pour over the mountain and fall across it like a tablecloth you feel as if you are in a floating metropolis. Hiking Table Mountain was challenging but fun. The trail (the “easy” trail) literally goes straight up the face, and climbing it is equivalent to walking up the Stairmaster for an hour and a half. At the bottom of the trail, a blond Rastafarian man greeted my two male, hung-over hiking partners and me. “Yellow man,” he called himself and although we were eager to get on the trail, he wanted to chat us up and take photos with us. The benefit being that he gave me some much-needed water along with the criticism that I was a “lazy woman” for not brining my own. We hauled up the mountain to see stunning views from the summit - I felt as if I was looking onto Neverland.

One of my highlights was spending the night in the Gugulethu township. Mama Nox is the local businesswoman who arranges to have tourists stay in the homes of other neighborhood “mamas.” Her house was the central meeting point and from there we were broken into pairs and sent away with our mama. I was paired with a girl named Andrea but neither one of us could properly say our mama’s Cosi name, which had a “click” in it. So we fell back on her English name, “Mama Ellen.” She tried to teach us some Cosi (one of many local languages) but she gave up rather quickly on us stubborn Americans.

The township looked similar to New Orleans 9th Ward, not the run down rows of shacks I expected (which I did see later, I just wasn’t sleeping in them). Mama Ellen’s home was gated, equipped with a TV, toilet, and running water, and had a little room with a bright pink bedspread for Andrea and I to sleep in. Each unsure of what to do now that the three of us were alone in the house, we offered to help her cook. Stavipop is made of mili-mili, which is a corn-based starch that is combined with water to make a thick mush. She taught us exactly how to make it – including a huge dollop of butter, vegetables, and chicken to finish off a simple, but delicious meal. Where is your husband we asked, concerned about eating without him. “Oh at the bar, I don’t know when he will be home. It’s ok though because he’s very quiet anyways, not talkative like me.” So we ate without the absent husband.

Mama Ellen’s passion for the children and the community is my favorite thing about her. Each day after school is out she teaches the local kids to dance. Mama Ellen even rallied the neighborhood kids to give us a private show of the girls dancing! The problem she told us, is that the after-school program is located in a building that isn’t always available and closes early. The kids all cry when they get kicked out at 7pm each evening. She has this incredible goal of purchasing a spot of land and building a community center with a park and soccer field for the kids to have somewhere to go after school. She is concerned that the kids will get into drugs and violence if they don’t have some way to occupy their time. This leads into the Amy Biehl Foundation (which I will go into detail later) which works to do just that – establish programs to get townships kids involved in the arts and channeling their energy positively. It was so amazing to see the way Mama Ellen’s dream was being carried out by the initiatives of the Amy Biehl foundation.

Andrea, Mama, and I sat in the living room (which doubled as a dining room) watching TV and Andrea and I began to wonder if we were going to spend our entire homestay just watching TV. Then Toto, the husband, came home. Drunk. Tanked actually. He stumbled in the door and looked as us like we were two white aliens sitting in his living room. Then he warmed up and contrary to what Mama had said about him being “quiet,” he chatted us up all night. He was very welcoming, if not incredibly repetitive and made it clear that he was BOSS of the house. Mama laughed it off but I found it to be very telling about the current climate of South Africa. Here was this woman, who can only find work 2 days a week but volunteers to teach the children every afternoon. And there was her husband, who out of work, sleeps in till 11 every day and goes drinking every night. Sad, but common story of women and men in South Africa.

Our 6am breakfast was the same milli-milli from the night before, but less thick and more of a watery porridge. Then, to top it off, Mama put MAYO on it. YUCK. We tried so hard to eat it, but it’s the kind of substance that you can eat 100 spoonfuls of and still not make a dent. So when she went into the bedroom to change, we dashed into the bathroom to flush the mayo-porridge down the toilet. Mission success.

I got to go back to the townships a few days later when I did a SAS service visit with the Amy Biehl Foundation. Amy was a young US woman who went to South Africa in the 80s to register blacks to vote. In an abrupt tragedy, she was confused as the white enemy by a group of black rioters in a township. In the middle of the day four men attacked, stoned, and stabbed her in the same township I slept in. Her mother is just as much of a hero, because she accepted Amy’s death as an opportunity to bring peace and education to the townships to prevent future violent acts from occurring. The most amazing part, though is that Linda Biehl, Amy’s mother, forgave all four of the murders during the Truth and Reconciliation hearing, fought for their release from jail, and eventually hired two of them to work at the foundation. If there was ever a lesson of forgiveness, it’s in Linda’s story. Such amazing compassion!

After hearing about Amy and Linda’s story, we toured through almost all the townships - except for Kalelitcha – the biggest and most dangerous one that I couldn’t get anyone to take me to! I did see the shacks and the squatter homes and I learned that often, even if the government pays to build houses for these people, they will often sell the houses and move back to their shacks where they don’t pay rent and can steal electricity from the main electric lines. We had traditional meat at a township restaurant for lunch, then continued to the after school programs that the foundation maintained. We played with kids, saw them perform dances, sing, and there was even a poetry reading!

Back over in downtown Cape Town, there’s the famous Long Street – home to shops, restaurants, and bars. I ventured down it at night to go out and had one great evening with a guy I met from America who had done SAS a few years ago. And I wandered along it during the day, although I must say its more fun at night! I also got to see the World Cup Stadium, go on a pirate cruise (where we saw a gorgeous sunset, whales, and a fabulous view of Cape Town), run along the coastline, pick strawberries, see cheetahs, and do a winery tour of Stellenbosch. I was bummed that my shark dive was cancelled due to foul weather, but I heard the water was freezing anyways. Next time I’m in South Africa I can do the animal stuff – Safari and shark dive – but for this trip the people of the townships, the wonderful wine, and the gorgeous city of Cape Town were absolutely amazing. I am very sad to leave this continent – Africa – home of my heart. But of course, I will be back! Except not Terminator Schwarzenegger style, Ann Jones (a woman who drove across Africa) style!

“Dream, dream, dream the craziest dreams.” –Desmond Tutu


"When you come to Africa, you catch the African disease. It's not malaria or AIDS; it's a disease of the heart. And what it means is that you have a heart for Africa. Whether you ever come back, you will yearn for Africa, you will cry for Africa, you will pray for Africa.
-Bishop Hathaway

Ghana: TIA BABY

silly boys playing in front of Christ Orphanage

My favorite quality about African kids: their smiles : )

I hand out pencils in every country! www.pencilsofpromise.org

African baby love

“You are welcome” are the greetings that come from the smiling faces of Ghanaians whose white teeth glisten against their dark skin. I love waving at every person I pass on the street because I can’t get enough of those smiles. Ghana is considered a developing country and it is visible among the dirt roads filled with potholes, rows upon rows of shacks sheltered by tin roofs, and young children carrying jerry cans of water on their heads or toting babies on their backs. But the bleak image of poverty fades into the background against the bright patterns of the African garb, blaring beat of the music, and giggles of children that come from every direction.

As soon as I could leap from the ship into “real Africa” (that is, an Africa that has a history of colonialism, an Africa in poverty, an Africa full of little black babies)I felt a shutter of excitement roll down my spine. Eight other SAS students and I jumped on a bus headed for Hohoe (pronounced HO-Hoy) where we would be visiting an orphanage. African time was the norm as it took us ten hours to pass through Accra (the capital) to our destination by bus. I didn’t mind though because the scenery of the Cape Coast, the luscious green of the jungle, and all the Africans going about their day was worth a lifetime of entertainment. We finally arrived at our hotel where we were told we would have to sleep five to a bed (without a mosquito net despite all the warnings of malaria we received from the SAS health team). No worries though, in the morning we would have yummy omelets and in the meantime I would have my first sleepover with a gay guy (who was all too thrilled to climb in bed with 4 girls and quote Mean Girls all night).

Christ Orphanage was started by a young man named Raymond who turned down hope for a better life studying in America in favor of bettering his community by opening an orphanage. After just two years his orphanage is relocating and expanding so that it can better house and teach its 175 students. In an afternoon hike to the biggest waterfall in West Africa Raymond and I jogged ahead of the group and discussed the importance of a community member changing his own surroundings. He and I both agreed that it is passion, which brings success. He also had a firm belief in the empowerment of women and the importance of liberating his students so that they could be anything they wanted. And these children certainly deserve it, just as any child does.

Upon meeting the orphans, I did not experience the chaotic storming of kids that I expected but rather, the exact opposite .The children were in class. I was assigned to the 2nd graders and they all stood up politely as I entered the room. All in uniform and extremely well behaved I watched as their teacher played “sit, stand, sit, sit” with them to get their attention. Their excellent behavior all but vanished as the young teacher said, “Oh they are calling me now for the all-day workshop - here is the lesson book.” And there I was, alone with 35 children giggling at the clueless white girl. I did a pretty good job teaching them math (not my specialty) for about an hour before I lost their attention and began handing out pencils. The kids were thrilled to receive my little gift and I had just barely enough for each student. They ran to get their little pencil-holder bags and sharpeners as they cradled the newest addition to the few things they had in their school bag. It was a very serious matter, the sharpening of the pencils, and each one wanted to be sure his or her pencil had a perfect point.

As the other ‘teachers’ (aka my SAS peers) struggled to maintain their wild children, we decided to play outside on the playground for most of the day. Spinning around on a merry-go-round, flipping over swing sets, sliding down slides, and jumping on see-saws, the energy never left those kids and we were worn out after a few hours. However, there was one child whose energy was never there to begin with. Her name was Ruth and if there was one little black baby I wanted to take home, it was this one. She had on a beautiful African-patterned purple and green dress and was about 2 years old. She never smiled and just walked around not playing, not looking for attention, just lost and lonely. I of course took her in my arms, and as we played hand games with her little black hands in mine, she smiled and giggled and my heart melted.

One highlight was the night we went “out” in Hohoe. I was excited to see what it would be like to be partying and bar hoping in a developing country. It was every bit of the adventure I had hoped for. Not long after setting out from our hotel with our guide, John, (he had picked us up from Accra, and always came around to hang out with us but we never figured out who he was or what connection, if any, he even had to the orphanage) two Africa men stopped him on the street. John turned to our group, and asked, is “Aleice” here? Who me? Yes, me. It was the 2nd grade teacher from the school and his brother who had walked to our hotel to go out with us. I had absently invited him earlier in the day never imagining he would just show up asking for me in the middle of the road! From there we went to “Malaysia” to get some drinks where started raining. Instead of running for cover, we decided there’s no better time to dance in the rain than in the middle of the night in the middle of Africa. So there we were, 9 Americans and 4 Africans dancing in the rain like a bunch of crazies. It was quite the scene. Then the power went out.

Well, TIA, This is Africa. So, we finished our drinks and headed out. But we were following John who wanted us to all take a group photo (soaking wet?) so he lead us around town and through dark alleys looking for a photo shop. Except it was the middle of the night and the power was out...they were all closed. We finally convinced him that we would take it tomorrow. (He showed up the next morning with a professional photographer just so he could get that photo). On the way home we stopped at Obama Gardens (yes, the Ghanaians do love Obama), a bar that conveniently had a generator so that we could continue our African evening adventure.

On a final note, I grew apart of Ghana as I jogged through it every day. Whether it was through the town seeing the locals laugh at me, through the village stopping to play soccer with kids, or through the lush jungle, running really brought me closer to the country. My favorite part was playing soccer with the kids. Soccer is such a universal game that is played all over the world and brings all races, religions, and cultures together. A highlight for me on this voyage is seeing the game being played by children in every single country I go to. Now that is universal love.

Would you tell me please which way I have to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”
-Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Camels, Hookah, and Belly Dancing OH MY!

He was the biggest camel of the pack!

Looking rough in our Berber tent!

Out of this world orange juice in Marrakesh with Hannah!

Ah Africa finally! As I got off the boat and walked along the dusty port that was filled with industrial ships and cranes, I wanted to reach down to touch the red earth that I missed so much. Cheesy I know, but Africa really does have this hold on you that cannot be explained. Morocco is just the beginning of Africa, next we have Ghana, South Africa, and Mauritius.

I spent the day in Casablanca, looking at the second biggest mosque in the world (behind the one in Mecca because none are permitted to surpass that one) and watching tons of Moroccan boys jump off the wall next to the mosque into the rocky water 50 feet below. These brave kids make this insane jump then struggled against the waves and rocks to get back to shore. Three American guys made the jump as well (one did a backflip and landed on his back – ouch!) and I was so jealous because that would be unacceptable as a woman in this Muslim environment. We also walked through the “le suk dans le medina” (the marketplace in the center of old town) and I loved how hot and crowded it was. There were tons of people selling spices, scarves, chunks of meat, fake purses, with kids of all ages hiding in the long alleys that led away from the long, winding market. Although we thought we’d never escape, the suk finally came to an end with a sweet English-speaking Arab warmly welcoming us to Morocco. He introduced me to his grandson who was living with him to learn Arabic. The little boy was so sweet and reached up for me to hold him in my arms. What a fabulous way to be welcomed to this country that holds so much mystery for me.

Although I wanted to go to Ricks Café from the movie, Casablanca, it was closed due for the end Ramadan. It’s also not the real Rick’s, which was shot in its entirety in Hollywood. This country closely adheres to its Muslim traditions and I dressed conservatively with my shoulders and knees covered everywhere we went. I cannot imagine being a woman in this or any other Islamic nation. In 120-degree heat, they are expected to be completely covered, fast for the day, and avoid fun activities such as soccer or drinking. Their discipline is something to admire, and it makes me appreciate my freedom as an American woman.

One thing about Morocco is that the people really do not move quickly. Repeatedly I encountered situations where things didn’t happen at the usual “Western” pace. For example, our train from Casablanca to Morocco took 5 ½ hours because it broke down in the middle of the desert. Unsure of what was going on, we spent 2 ½ hours baking in our sweat wondering what was going on. Later in the trip, after spending 12 hours on a bus with 4 more to go, our bus driver pulled over and had a sit-down dinner without telling any of us who were also starving and ready to get home. As crazy and frustrating as these experiences were, it was part of the journey and if everything had run smoothly there wouldn’t be anything to write about! It’s good therapy for Miss Impatient Alex anyways!

Marreketch was beautiful in comparison with the industrial capital of Casablanca. The traditional rust-colored architecture was so unique and I loved seeing kids peak their little heads out from behind it. It was a busy city and the main market was killer at night – filled with snake charmers, monkeys, flirty yet a little bit sketchy Arab men, and tons of delicious food. Moroccan orange juice and mint tea are very special drinks here. They are both incredible and I drank them with every meal that I could. The food was exceptional as well. I tried everything: tajine, couscous, kebabs, with meats, eggs, and veggies in them. At one meal (where we were the only people in the restaurant) we had a special “surprise” that turned out to be a belly dancer with a little pouch of a tummy and a gap in her teeth. For the two nights that we were in Marrakech we stayed in a huge apartment in a nice hotel with a pool and went out to a nice nightclub. Our next two days were a complete 180, but still just as fun and exciting.

We took a 12 hour-long bus ride from Marreketch to the Zagora dunes. This trip included an hour-long delay due to a minor bus accident and lots of “riddles” from our charismatic guide, Yussef. Driving through the Atlas Mountains was gorgeous but there were a lot of painfully close switchbacks. After a long drive, we were thrilled to be thrown onto the camels and lead away into the desert with 6 nomads. After the initial excitement wore off and the sunset faded we were left on uncomfortable camels being lead into the darkness of the Sahara for 2 hours. I felt a sense of adventure letting these people lead me into the dark with no sense of where we would end up. Then suddenly, when I least expected it, we were there! It was pitch black dark and I could barely make out a few white tents. We were lead to into them discovered a small fire-lit lamp alighting a room of small mats and blankets. The tent was a beautiful green and red design and it was pretty nuts to think that it was my home for the night. They served us mint tea, we ate dinner with our hands, and then after a few bug scares we laid down exhausted. I fell asleep outside the tent, under a billion stars with the nomads playing instruments a few tents away.

I awoke to an incredible sunrise against hundreds of sand dunes. I had gone to sleep thinking such a place couldn’t be more magical but waking up to those unexpected dunes (we couldn’t see them at all the night before) blew me away. Another shorter camel trek, a 15hr bus ride, and a beautiful village excursion later and we were back home on the ship. My time in Morocco was just the right amount of adventure, surprise, hospitality, and mishap. I loved sweating through the long delays and digging sand out of my ears just as much as the delicious couscous and amazing sunsets. I learned a lot about patience and discipline here, as well as how to really embrace discomfort. These things make coming back to the boat for good food and a warm shower all that much better and me all the more grateful to be on this voyage.

ESPANA!

Bull fight!

Hanging out in Plaza del Sol Madrid - I think I got lost shortly after this!

My new Spanish friends - the first of many!

Buenos dias from Espana! I have been Spain once before, (Barcelona for two days) but it was only a taste of this flavorful culture. This time I saw what it really means to sit through an entire bullfight - graceful matadors slowly but repeatedly stab and kill nine bulls while the crowd cheers. I tasted the world’s best Sangria accompanied with tapas while embracing the slower, more relaxed culture of Spain. It juxtaposed my summer experience in New York City where everyone is in such a hurry to go, go, go and it was a nice change of pace. I visited the capital city of Madrid, which blew me away with it’s beauty, hospitality, and energy. I was disappointed to find that we couldn’t enter the Real Madrid soccer stadium without paying a hefty price, but regardless the excitement and pride from Spain’s recent international victory in the world cup was still very tangible. El capital was a huge nightclub in the city that had seven levels of drinking, dancing, lounging, and socializing. In Spain the norm is to eat a late dinner around 10 or 11 pm, then go out to the bars between 12-1 and stay out till 4 or 5am in the morning. I adjusted pretty well to eating late since afternoon tapas and a daily siesta are part of the culture as well. During siesta all the stores and business close for a few hours. It is said that you can only find mad men, drunks, and dogs wandering around during siesta time from 2-4m, wonder which one I am qualified as? All of the above?



I visited two smaller towns called Seville and Cadiz (where the ship was docked) that were filled with historical sites and unbelievable beauty. I saw the gorgeous botanical gardens of both cities as well as their stunning cathedrals. The Seville Cathedral was enormous and its tower had an incredible view of the city. It’s pretty cool to think that I have now seen the five largest cathedrals in the world, this being the third largest. Cadiz has miles of killer beaches accompanied by a long bridge that leads to a stone fortress established to protect the city hundreds of years ago. I really fell in love with Cadiz when I went for a run along this coast and ran down to this stone bridge, praying I didn't trip and go flying over the cobblestones. The streets are lined with trees and the botanical gardens that offer incredible scenery alongside the ocean. As I ran across the bridge, there were several young local Spaniards who cheered me on as I ran. It was only a six mile run but to have them clapping and cheering it seemed as if I had completed a marathon (unlike Laura Reed who actually did!). Running is such a great way to see these cities; I hope to be able to do more of it at least once in every port.



What I really loved most about Spain were the people. Everywhere I went I spoke to the locals. Often times in my broken Spanish they would remind me, it’s okay, you can speak English. It also drove all my friends crazy that I wouldn't talk to them in English haha - Lo Siento I would babble in my el crap espanol! But, I loved embracing the language and I think the locals really appreciated the give and take associated with the communication. The highlight of my trip was in Madrid when I was separated from my group for an entire day. As I stopped to take a picture of an adorable Spanish child, his father wanted to chat. We go lost in conversation and I simultaneously lost my group. I didn’t mind though, and I got on the metro to try to meet them at the Prado. I had so much help with directions from locals that I couldn’t help but smile the entire time. On the metro, I met two Spaniards who offered to show me the way to the Prado. After finding it to be closed and my friends nowhere in sight, we enjoyed a beer together and I got to know them. My solo adventure continued when I they took me to a nearby museum that was open, and housed La Guernica! I couldn’t have been happier because Picasso’s masterpiece was the only painting I really wanted to see while in Spain. It was really a mind-blowing piece and other great works of Picasso and Dali accompanied it. When I parted from my Spanish guides who helped me through Madrid, I went back to the hostel to find a note from my friends explaining which train they were getting on to Seville. Although I was thrilled with how the day turned out I was also sad to leave my hostel hostess. She was an older woman who was so mean and bossy that I couldn’t help but love her. She had a fondness for me and every time she wanted to talk to us, she would communicate with me, always thinking that I knew more Spanish that I actually do. Before saying farewell we shared a slice of watermelon together. Engaging with the locals was what really made Spain incredible for me. Whether it was losing my friends in the street or in a bar it was always because I was too busy talking to chatty locals. I hope that I can have such a great connection with the people in every country. I think it is truly PEOPLE that are my greatest passion. For me, this adventure isn’t about buildings, or animals, or food (although food is up there), it is about people and what I can learn from all those around the world. As I get further and further away from what I am used to, I hope to learn so much about how life can be so different but humanity is the same everywhere. KISSES from Spain (on each cheek of course!), Morocco details to follow very soon!

Canada pre-voyage!

Canada: home of hockey, 5-cent required fee for plastic bags, Mike Meyers, snow, required compost, and Justin Bieber. It is also where my cousins live so I am staying with my fabulous older cousin Meghan and her new husband Drew here in Toronto and she is showing me this fun, modern city. We ate dinner last night at the harbor front of Lake Ontario where we saw everything from SHARK ATTACK boats (funny since there's no lake sharks!) to yachts and tons of beautiful sailboats floating in the harbor. We also discussed the dangers of capsizing and sinking which was oh so comforting right before I embark on the MV Explorer! The weather is perfect; a cool breeze felt amazing after the 95-degree humidity of Florida. Some of my favorite things about Toronto have been Yonge Street, which is the longest streets in the world - over 1,000 miles, and the Canadian saying of "eh." Canadians throw an "eh" on the end of sentences as a question of agreement. For example, "This street is quite long, eh?"  Also, Canada has a HUGE landmass, the second largest behind Russia, and a population less than the size of California! Today we experienced the Canadian fair where we sat in a Canadian "buffalo" army tank, looked in horror at the fried butter and chocolate-covered bacon, and wondered if the carny really could "guess our weight." Tonight we plan on exploring the trendy, yet historic neighborhood of Yorkville where all the celebs hang out during the annual Toronto Film Festival. I'm bummed that I missed being here for it by only a few weeks, at is is quite a famous weekend. Tomorrow Meghan and I will fly out early to Halifax where she went to university and where I board the boat. We plan on  going to Peggy's Cove, eating a fabulous lobster dinner, and hitting the fun night scene of this coastal college town. What a WONDERFUL kick-start to my adventures abroad. Thank goodness for awesome family to show me a good time around America's northern neighbor.

Anticipating the voyage!

It is overwhelming to imagine that in 13 days I will be on board Semester at Sea's floating campus, the MV Explorer, and I have only just started planning (and more importantly budgeting) my trip. Since I haven't done any travel preparations (I barely got my visas) it looks like I will be winging it from country to country, without agenda. But I like it. No arranged itineraries, just freedom to seek adventure via couchsurfing, rickshaws, locals, and hostels. Thanks for following me, I know each country will bring exciting stories full of fascinating people, exotic locations, a touch of danger, and incredible fun!

"And now, let the wild rumpus start! 

-Max, Where the Wild Things Are