Temples and Tunnels

The fourth day was our trip to the Cao Dai temple and the Cu Chi Tunnels.

Another early morning, we got on the bus to the Cao Dai temple. We ate lunch at an astoundingly early 10 30 AM, but it was the only way to do it if we wanted to catch the noon Cao Dai ceremony.

The lunch was another constant barrage of food, which was much enjoyable. They didn't charge me for my water, so I got away with a free water bottle. They were charging double what it should be anyway.

Cao Dai is a very new religion. It is sort of a combination of many other eastern religions, and their temple was beautiful. The eye in the pyramid is their thing, similar to the emblem on the dollar bills.

We took of our shoes and went inside. The rules were that we could take pictures of the inside, just not pictures of OURSELVES inside of it. We took our pictures and walked around and then headed up to where we could watch the ceremony.

Many people wearing white robes followed a few people wearing red and yellow robes into the middle of the temple as music played. Then we stood there and watched them pray. Not the most interesting thing in the world, but the music was good.

The highlight, though, were the Cu Chi tunnels. It is where the Vietcong hid during the Vietnamese war. They developed some amazing ways of digging and living underground. We climbed through two of the original tunnels. The first one was incredible dark and there were bats whizzing by our heads. We saw booby traps that were scattered around the jungle and learned a lot about the survival techniques of the Vietcong.

Our tour guide, Mai, was incredible. She looked like was was 30 at the most, but was actually 52. She came from a very rich family, never having to lift a finger for herself. When communism came around, her whole family fell apart. She fled Vietnam when she was 22, was forced to drink diesel on the boat out of Vietnam, and made it to Canada. She came back to Vietnam in 1993 (circa) to be a tour guide and get away from her father, for reasons I am not sure. Someone needs to document this woman's story, but it cannot go untold for any longer.

She has no nationality. Her father is Chinese, but she was born in Vietnam. The Vietnamese say she is Chinese. But Canada and China say she is Vietnamese. She explained this in more detail then I can remember, but you get the idea.

She taught us so much about the history of that time in Vietnam, and I left with a much greater understanding.

Rah Rah Delta, Mekong Delta

The second and third day involved my trip to the Mekong Delta. The whole time I was there I thought about all my Delt brothers at home because you can't say Mekong Delta without saying Delt.

We left early in the morning and withstood a very long bus ride out to the river. The bus was crazy, hitting bumps really really hard. We sat up in the back, where the seats are sort of elevated, and we went flying with every pothole or little bump.

We arrived around 11 30 at the river. We got into two long wooden boats and they gave us a tour of the river. There were little houses all along the banks of the murky brown water. In some areas it looked like someone took a piece of a township from South Africa, lifted it up on wooden stilts and stuck it on the banks of the Mekong in Vietnam.

This river was just covered with these boats. People live on them as well as use them for business. The hulls had windows, the bows had hammocks, and every one of them had eyes painted on the very front. This was to scare alligators away, and it must have worked because I didn't see a single alligator on the whole trip.

We spent a few hours getting a feel for the lifestyle and then moved to go back on the bus but it had a flat so we had to wait. Our next stop was our hotel, which was in a city called Can Tho. We had to get off the bus to board a ferry to take us across the river because they were building a bridge. This ferry was large enough to fit charter buses, all the people on motorcycles, as well as pedestrians. In the waiting room, we were the first ones there but pretty soon it was filled with motorcycles. And when the gate opened the motorcycle people just went, not caring about us. It was quite scary.

At our hotel Isaiah and I took naps. Then it was dinner which was SO GOOD! I ate all kinds of meats and noodles and seafoods and everything. Yeah, mom, I ate shrimp. Maybe now you'll take me to Todai.

The next day we hit the floating market. I bought a ton of mini-bananas for a dollar, popping them off one at a time, unpeeling them, and throwing the peel into the river. Which is allowed.

After the floating market we went back to the rooftop of our hotel for lunch, where they served this ground squid/beef fried combo that nobody except Isaiah and I liked, so we had a ton of those.

Our bus ride back was a few hours, and that night we went out and got our suits fitted and ate some Pho. The Pho was excellent, I wish I would have had some more Pho before we left.

All That Jazz

Bob Balsley, the AV guy here, had a guitar performance slated at “Sax 'n' Art,” a jazz club just minutes from our ship. I ran into him in the streets during the day and he gave me a business card. He also mentioned that I might be able to play with him. He is quite a prolific guitar player/teacher. If you Google his name, some good stuff will come up. I mean, he's really legit. Played with Van Morrison and Chuck Berry, to name a few.

But before I tell this story, there is some background info you need to know.

So, every sea day, at 7 PM, a bunch of us get together in the piano lounge to play music. Bob plays guitar. I play piano. Jordan plays guitar, Chazz plays bass, and there isn't usually any percussion. Bob has brought in random songs for us to play, but a lot of time we just jam. In the last few weeks, we've been getting together a nice repertoire of complete songs for the purpose of an end-of-the-year performance. On this list is “Mercy, Mercy” and “Rocket Man.” We also do some Spanish-style jams and of course, the blues.

So me, Taylor, Isaiah, Ari, Chris, Sara, you know the bunch, show up at Sax 'n' Art. I am really excited because I REALLY want to get on stage. It is a little stage with a piano, guitar, microphones, and a really awesome drum set. The band shows up and they start playing, and it is some great music. The main guy, Tuan, plays the saxophone. His picture is all over Sax 'n' Art, leading us to believe that he has some sort of history or link with the place.

Jordan also happened to be there. He heard about Bob's performance and ran into Bob earlier that evening and said that going on stage is a very good possibility. We can, at the very least, get up there with Bob and play a few songs. It was awesome. I told Taylor, who plays drums, that we might go on. He has never practiced with us, so he was a little apprehensive. I told him not to worry about it.

Also, Chazz, our bassist, was there. I hadn't seen him all day and I'm not sure whether he knew about Bob's performance, but all of us were there. It was looking like if we want this, it might happen.

Not so long into their performance, they invite Bob on stage. He played his regular style with the solos and the jazz chords and the virtuosic flourishes of talent. We ordered some drinks and when it was time to pay the lady was giving us a hard time. We sat there arguing with her for 10 minutes, trying to figure out why an extra 50,000 was on our bill! She showed us the total, and then the 10% for the tax but then she kept adding 50,000! Finally, I turned out, it was the cover charge. We didn't think it was going to be on our bill, but it was. It was funny, but stressful.

Anyway, around an hour and a half into the performance, Bob and Tuan pulled me aside and asked me if we wanted to go on. I said YEAH! Tuan asked me who was there and what instruments we had, and I told him the breakdown. Bob asked me what I thought we could play, and I suggested Mercy, Mercy, our standard, and some jams. Tuan asked me if we have anyone on drums. I told him my friend Taylor plays, but he may not want to go on. Tuan said if Taylor doesn't play, he'll play the drums himself. I found Taylor and, despite him being a little reluctant for never having playing with us before, decided to go on stage with us.

I wrote our names down on a little piece of paper, and Tuan introduced us one by one. So now onstage it is me at the piano, Jordan and Bob on guitars, Chazz on the bass, and Taylor on the drums. We're primed and ready to go.

We play Mercy Mercy and it went REALLY well. We're pretty solid at it. Then we did a blues and jam and then we did Rocket Man. This is when I sang. That's right, sang Rocket Man. I was slated to sing this song for our end-of-the-year performance, so I was happy to have some practice on this particular night.

We did more jams, and at one point Bob just packed up and left. I asked him about this later and he said he was just toasted, having played for two hours.

So now it is just us on stage. We were living the dream. Performing the music we want, on a real stage, for an audience of SAS people AND local Vietnamese people, with real instruments. Once I had the mic in front of me, we improvised lyrics and did harmonies and it was a lot of fun. Tuan even came on and did some sax solos for us when he was inspired.

The soloing was the best part. You just called out “and now, Jordan on guitar!” and Jordan would rip away on the strings. It was incredibly scary, but a lot of fun.

We played for 45 minutes. We never knew what we were going to play next, and we found that our beginnings and endings of songs need a little work. What we need is to work on our audibles, our little signals to tell when to start and end. And a setlist would be good too.

After we were all done, Tuan thanked us all and said it was a real honor. We took a picture with him on the stage. We also all bought shirts of the place to have forever. They gave us each a free beer, and one of the Vietnamese ladies working there wanted my business card. I didn't have one so I just wrote my information down on a paper. I'm not sure what she wanted it for, I couldn't hear her nor could I really understand what she was saying, something about her being a student as well.

Isaiah got it all on video. There is a short split when my camera ran out of memory and he switched to his camera, but it's mostly all there. I evaluated my performance and learned a lot.

SAS has not only given me an opportunity to see the world, but is has also given me an opportunity to practice my art. Incredible, right?

Measurements and Remnants

Our first day in Ho Chi Minh city was awesome! Isaiah, Ari, Taylor, Lindsay, and I went out as soon as they let us off the ship. Our goal: find a tailor.

The ship is docked right in front of a little restaurant/cafe/gift shop, which is quite convenient. Also, for our convenience, is a shuttle that takes us the 1 km to the city center. It runs every half an hour and is really, really easy.

We took the shuttle to the city center and walked around. Ho Chi Minh city (a.k.a Saigon) is quite urban, but there is still a rural feel to it. Lots of street vendors, lots of cute little shops, some homeless people, but the standout things are all of the motorcycles.

In a city of over 8 million people, it seems like everyone has a motorcycle. Crossing the street is like playing a game of Frogger. It is much easier to wait for a slight lull in the traffic and then walk than it is to wait for there to be no traffic whatsoever. The motorcyclists weave around you, so it's safer to just keep walking.

We went up and down, looking for a tailor, one that we liked. There were tailors all over the place. We went to a guy who was offering a "big promotion for SAS" but the shop was a little run down so we went elsewhere. We took a taxi that cost $1 to another place, but the suits were going for $100, and the people weren't very nice. Finally, we were just exploring after Lindsay went to go get measured for her dress, and found a nice little place with a very sweet woman working there. We asked how much for a suit and she said $80. That was the best deal we found so far, so we took her card.

After eating lunch (I had squid and garlic it was awesome!) we went and got measured and picked out our suits. It is a good thing Lindsay was there with us because we have no fashion sense whatsoever. I got two suits: a black one and a white one with black lining. It's gonna be awesome.

We grabbed some ice cream and then went to the War Remnants Museum. This was a very moving experience. They had pictures of the destruction and war crimes from the Vietnam War, recreation of cells, and pictures of people who were born with deformities due to the dioxin. It is impossible to describe the kinds of things that I saw in this museum. The testimonies in captions, stories, but most of all the photos will have a lasting impression upon me.

There were also guest books to sign, and there were messages in all languages, some thanking the Vietnamese for the museum, others wishing peace on Earth. Some of them were quite anti-American, calling us monolingual self-centered people. A lot of these things were shocking to read, and haunted me for some time. I like to believe I'm not self-centered (though I could use some work on my French) and that I truly empathize with other people. It is sad to see that that is how the individual who wrote that views the United States. That is why on this trip I strive to be a positive ambassador of the US to all of the countries we visit.

One last thing: there was a letter from Ho Chi Minh written to the people of the US who were supporting the antiwar movements, talking about how Vietnam has never attacked the US, thanking the anti-war supporters and saying that what is happening is inhumane and is harming the US just as much as it is harming Vietnam. He also said they won't be backing down until the US leaves.

Words cannot exactly do this experience justice. There is only one other place I have ever seen any images as sickening as the once I have seen, and I'm sure you can guess the content of that museum.

That night we went to a jazz club called "Sax n' Art" because Bob was slated to play there. But that will be in the next blog, an experience deserving its own space.

Running out of Thaime

While in Thailand, I had a lot of time to myself. I did a lot of thinking, being alone in 5 star hotel rooms for two nights in a row.

The finiteness of this trip has really sunk in. Compared to the first day when I sat on deck 6 and looked out at the Atlantic Ocean, when I knew I had the world ahead of me and kept saying to myself “what am I doin?” Now, I am a pro-traveler, awesome at bargaining, and aware that this trip is ending in less than two months.

The Buddhism concept of the impermanence of all things, as well as a little bit of This Too Shall Pass has helped me to begin to understand how to treat the rest of the trip. I believe I have spent my time well here, soaking up every minute I have. I will continue to do this, as it is the only way I can be sure that I won't look back and have any regrets. Right Lship 08? No regrets. I'm using it.

I feel like a different person than I used to be. In the 2nd hotel room I looked at myself in the mirror and saw short hair, necklace, glasses, and compared this to a person from not even a year ago this summer-long hair, no glasses. But besides any sort of outstanding physical difference or a piece of South African jewelry around my neck, it is my experience that has transformed the way I feel.

I don't want to make any sort of conclusive feelings about what I've learned on this trip because it is far from over. I imagine I will have quite the blog upon re-entry to the US when I will go home and cry on my family and friends and curl up into a little ball of “I miss the world.”

But home has been on my mind a little more lately than in the last two months, about what it will feel like to get back home. I don't believe in avoiding certain thoughts like “don't think about home!” Because avoiding it can only make it worse. I understand that this trip will come to an end and home will feel different, I just don't know how.

I am a world traveler. I will have flags from all of the countries I've been to flying proudly in my room or in my house or anywhere I choose to put them. I will have patches on my backpack or pillow or my SAS sash I will wear for graduation. I will have photos forever. But most importantly I will have the memories of the people I have met on and off the ship, the lessons I have learned, the places I have been, and the experiences that will have made me who I am.

Adventure Thaime

Five days in Thailand.

On the first day I went to the Sri Racha Tiger Zoo, where I saw some mistreatment of animals and got my picture taken with a baby tiger. It was fun, but not really.

The real fun started on my Bridge over the River Kwai trip.

There were only 16 people signed up for this three day trip to Kanchanaburi and Ayuthaya. Not even all 16 showed up. In fact, there were only 3 guys there of the 5 or 6 guys who signed up.

The bus ride there was long, and I took a nap, but then we had lunch and hopped on the Death Railway, a railroad build by POWs in WWII. It runs over the River Kwai, where we got off. It was really interesting to see the real bridge and read about the kinds of things that went on there.

After the bridge we went to visit a temple. It was beautiful! They called it the “son of Angkor Wat” the great temple in Cambodia. I climbed to the top of the steep staircases and look around at the wonderful Thai landscape.

We checked into the hotel, since there was an odd number of guys, I got the room to myself. It was a 5 star hotel, and I had the “superior king” room. All to myself. I felt like James Bond. We ate another Thai meal which was incredible. I have never eaten so much food in my life. For the entire trip, even, I have had so much food. I don't know when I turned into an eater. On the other hand, I don't know when I had a shaved head and wore a necklace.

Then came my massage, which you've read by now. The next day came our boat ride on the River Kwai itself. They put us in these small boats with the largest rudders I have ever seen. The boat ride started nice and calmly, and then out of nowhere we jumped to lightspeed! We TORE down that river! All along the river there were small cabins and floating dance floors where you could have a party. I thought about what it would be like if I flew all my relatives out to Thailand for my son or daughter's bnai-mitzvah and had it on the River Kwai on a float.

After our boat ride we went to the JEATH museum, which was a small museum dedicated to showing the torture of the POWs who had worked on the River Kwai and lived in the area. Some of the photographs were sickening, and even the paintings were appalling. It amazes me what incredible things humans can accomplish, like building a bridge, and the terrible things they can do, like make people live in loincloths and feces.

The rest of the day we visited various temples. One stood out in particular because it had the largest bronze Buddha in Thailand. It was an incredible sight to see. Our tour guide took some pictures of me in front of it, which I'll include in a later post.

We checked into our hotel, and I, of course, had the room to myself. I sat down next to the bed to see if there was a Gideon's Bible, and as I took off my left sock I saw a book below the Bible that was called “Teaching of the Buddha.” So I picked it up and started to read. I sat there and read it for 20 minutes, with one sock on and one sock off. I was so enthralled by it I couldn't put it down. After a nap, dinner, and some socializing, I went back upstairs and read it for another hour before falling asleep.

Buddhism has got to be one of the most interesting religions out there. What it teaches about controlling desire and keeping the mind pure and understanding the impermanence of all things struck me deeply, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it. I have already started to apply some of things it teaches into my life, and it has fared quite well.

The last day of our trip (my 4th day in Thailand) we visited the summer palace of the king and it was beautiful. Various types of architecture. We also stopped in Bangkok for a little bit, and saw the largest mall I have ever seen in my entire life. It has 7 or 8 floors stretching across 5 sections. I could not believe how big this thing was.

One great thing about the trip were our trip leaders, Joe and Susie Brazas. Joe is the conduct officer and Susie is his wife. They were wonderful! They invited us all to their giant house in the woods up in the Tahoe area whenever we want.

After India, Thailand seemed really clean and really empty. The hospitality of the Indians will never be matched by anyone else, so I feel like Thailand was beaten before it could get started as far as life changing experiences go. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time,it was beautiful, and the history is so rich! I was sad to leave, but I am much, much more excited to get to Viet Nam than I am sad about leaving Thailand.

Thai-ed Up in Knots

The second night of my trip to Thailand, the night in Kanchanaburi, I went for a Thai massage. It was also my first full-length professional massage.

I showed up with my friend Adam and then put us in a room with four mats in a row. There was a TV across from them. We took off our shirts and shorts and put on the loner white tee and the cloth maroon pants with the awkward drawstring. We were then instructed to lay down on the mats.

I was so glad we were in a more public type of setting. I had opted out of having the massage in my room for fear of getting any sort of “extras” imposed upon me. Then the ladies came in. Me and Adam were right next to each other, and we were both thinking “alright, here we go!”

This was the full-body Thai massage. It was 600 Baht which is around $16. It was for an hour and 45 minutes. Good deal, I know. The other option was a foot massage. I was like bah! Foot massage... who needs it! But when she started on my feet for my Thai massage I thought “wow, I could take this for an hour no problem!”

Adam's masseuse was a little more effervescent than mine. She reached over and squeezed my leg and then my masseuse reached over and squeezed Adam's leg. They were obviously comparing us, and they weren't shy about it at all.

She started on my left leg, and I could feel my muscles moving around and releasing all of the tension. And then, two SAS girls from our trip walked in and we had to change rooms.

We got relocated to a more private venue. We were now each in our own little private room surrounded only by curtains. I was thinking. “great. Now the chances of any more 'extras' being offered is a little bit higher.” But regardless, the massage continued.

Every limb of my body got massaged, even my eyebrows. The most difficult thing about it was the language barrier. She barely spoke English, and I definitely don't speak Thai. At one point she asked me if me and Adam were sleeping together. I promptly said “no. Friends.” I wonder if she was asking me this just in case there was a possibility for all four of us to engage in some sort of post-massage special event.

Another funny thing was when she would massage my leg really hard it would feel like she wanted me to move it. So I would move it, and then she would push it back down and say, “no,” all matter-of-factly.

She cracked ever knuckle in my right hand, and then on my left hand my index finger and thumb didn't crack. She looked at me, confused, and and shrugged. We both laughed.

There was a fair bit of laughter, partially due to the communication barrier, partially due to when she stretched me in such a way that I made a funny noise: like when she twisted my legs and put them almost all the way behind my head. Or when she dug her knees into my back and arched my entire body. But the most tickling part of the massage was when I was on my stomach and she kneaded my butt with her knees. I had to hold back from bursting out in laughter.

But at the end, all the tension in my back and neck were gone, and all my muscles were completely relaxed. I felt like I was walking on air. When it was over, though, some awkward stuff went down.

I was sitting up and she was putting the finishing touches on my back, and Adam asked me “are you sitting up now Jonathan” and I said “yeah, I am.” My masseuse pulled open the curtain and Adam was just sitting there, his masseuse laying down, giggling about something. Then my masseuse said “okay, done.” And laid down in the same fashion.

I tried to avoid eye contact because it was obvious she was trying to solicit me. She handed me my clothes back and I said to myself “I have to get dressed right here in front of her?” That wasn't a big deal, all my years at camp I'm comfortable changing in front of other people. But here, and what the taking off of clothes suggests, it seemed a little awkward.

I also feel like these women were expecting me and Adam to ask for something extra. Maybe it is because we're obviously American, or whatever. But we didn't. We made it out safely. I'd rather not contract some disease from a strange Thai woman. She did have good hands though, and I've never seen anyone do the types of things she did to my body, but I kept thinking about how many other people she's done this to and how many people may have gone for the extra mile.

I'm sorry if I have disappointed everyone who ever wanted to go to Thailand and get a full body massage with a happy ending, but come to Thailand and see the sex workers and see the shows and see all the crazy things these women do, and then try to feel comfortable having one of those ladies do anything more than a massage.

As we say at camp, bad touch. Very, very bad touch.

But, the massage was AMAZING. I really needed it too! Traveling can be stressful, not to mention I have a test the day after Thailand. If you ever feel stressed, go get a massage. You won't be disappointed.

The Post-Post-Port Reflections Post

We had post-port reflections tonight, and I heard a lot of great stories. I spoke about the students and how they changed me and all of that stuff. A lot of people told stories about their experiences giving out food to the beggars, and I was thinking how I didn't really talk about that too much in my blogs, so I'd like to now.

I wasn't really bothered all that much by the poverty. Of course it was challenging to see and upsetting at times, but I think it was because I was mentally prepared for it. I also understand how there is very little I can do, a real clash of emotions and realizations. It is a byproduct of an overpopulated nation and one of the things that just comes with crowded life. Its hard to realize that, but its the truth. I FEEL like I want to help every last one, but I realize that I just can't. As much as it is sad to see people living on the street, there are very few solutions to solving that kind of thing, and none of them can happen overnight. Charities and developing the economy all take a long time and a lot of work. Chennai is a developing city, and one of the doctors on the trip here told me that Chennai has many less beggars than it did when she was here around 10 or 15 years ago. It was really tricky, too, dealing with this kind of stuff. Confusing, even.

I only gave stuff out twice. The second time was on the last day and the tuktuk guy was like "give them some, you're leaving" and I gave out a little bit and got swarmed and a train was passing and I got stuck.

I felt worse for being able to choose who got what than when I gave nothing at all.

The first time I gave was much more confusing:

I had two water bottles left over from a dinner one night, and as we were walking back I saw a man near the port entry. I walked toward him with my water bottles and he sprang up like a spring, really excited. I gave him the water, and he was still asking for money. "Dollar, dollar, dollar." I said "I can give you the other water bottle" I held it out for him but he wouldn't take it, so I walked away. When I thought about it, I was like "seriously? Beggar denying more water? No way. I'm done" The beggars in the US say things like "godbless" even when you give them a nickel. Their faces light up when you give them half a sandwich. But for some reason water, the essence of life, was not good enough for this man.

So what am I supposed to think? Did I help this man? I gave him something he didn't want. Someone in post-port reflections told a story about how he gave some peanuts to a woman and an Indian man engaged them in conversation and said something like "that isn't helping" and they saw her drop the peanuts. He also said "she wants money or death, so she can come back and have a better life." So is it really worth it to give to the beggars?

I am glad I had these three types of experiences: not giving, getting swarmed, and someone being unsatisfied with what I gave. I feel that I can adequately provide perspective on dealing with beggars in India, and am very thankful for what I have. If I can't help the beggars, then I can learn to appreciate everything I have to the fullest, and generate good karma that way.

Incredible !ndia (part 5): A Barrel of Laughs and Final Thoughts

Today was very simple. And hilarious. We (Me, Isaiah, and Ari) got up moderately late (okay like 11), grabbed a ship lunch, and went into town to do some last minute shopping.

As we looked for a rickshaw, a man came up to us, named Matthew, and was very nice. Ari negotiated a good deal and he took us to Spencer's Plaza. He offered to wait for us and give us a ride back, but we told him we'll take his phone number and call him if we need him. He said “if you see your friends, tell them Matthew, and I'll be right here.” I said “If you see any one from Semester at Sea, tell them you met Jonathan.”

The walk from the street to the building was short, but interesting. It was raining, a light shower, but enough to get our hair wet and make puddles in the street. It reeked. I thought India smelled bad during sunlight! What really caught our eye were some workers in a manhole. The brown water was up to his chest, overflowing over the side. There was a tube going into it as he removed some rocks. If he wasn't working, then he may have been taking a bath. I have never seen anything quite like that.

So into Spencer's we went, back into the labyrinth of “will you see my shop?” and “special discount for MV Explorer.” Isaiah made a phone call to his family friend up North, but I struck out on finding my flag. Me and Ari bought half a kilo of cookies and had them put it in a vacuum sealed bag so we could take it back on the ship.

Throughout our time in Spencer's we ran into lots of people we knew, and one such person was hanging out with some Indian people who bought her an antique pocketwatch. Ari asked one of them where he could get a Cricket jersey, so this man took us to a store and Ari got a jersey for 300 rupees. Good price, good price.

After that guy had gone, Ari decided he wanted another jersey. I found the store from before and we went in. Ari goes up to the store worker:
“Do you have an XL cricket jersey? I'll give you 250.”

I'm thinking. Seriously? He just bought this here for 300 ten minutes ago.

The man says “Sorry, 300 only.”
“I just bought this downstairs for 250.”
“It is 300”

I am holding back laughter. I can't believe what Ari is trying to do right now!

“I paid 250! He was there, am I crazy?”
“I'm sorry, it's 300.”

I am about to burst out laughing, but then the guy recognized that the bag Ari's jersey was in matched the bag that he put his merchandise in! But the kicker was the store worker opened the drawer and Ari's 300 rupees were it! I told Ari to just take the 300. I was so shocked that he was trying to lie to someone to get a better deal. Turns out he didn't realize we were in the same store, nor did he realize he had paid 300 instead, and didn't know why I was laughing. We all misunderstood what the other person was doing and then we all had a huge laugh.


We bumped into the same guy who helped us before. We asked about where to find a flag, and one of them called a place in Parrys (a busy district buy our port) and told us how to get there. He said it shouldn't be more than 200 rupees.

We went outside to find a rickshaw driver, and we were immediately approached by one.
“Will you take us to Parrys and then the ship?”
“Yes”
“How much?”
“400 rupees”
“No way! We got here for 100! We'll go for two hundred!”
“No, 400.”
“We're not stupid tourists, we know you're ripping us off. Nevermind”

Another man came up and we had a similar situation. As we walked away another man approached us and Ari did the funniest thing:
“Ok you got one chance. Take us to Parrys and then port, its one stop. We got here for 100. How much”
The guy points to each of us in turn and says “Two hundred, two hundred, two hundred.”
We all shout “NO WAY!” and walk back into the store laughing really hard.

We go back to the phone where Isaiah called his family friend to call Matthew. At first he didn't pick up, but then he picked up the second time. Ari was on the phone and said “Hi, its Jonathan!” Which was hilarious even though we knew he did it because it was the only name we gave him. Unfortunately, he was picking up his daughter at school and couldn't take us, so we went out of a different exit and the negotiation began again.

We told them Parrys then ship because we want to buy a flag and tried to tell us that we can't find a flag in Parrys and would take us somewhere else. We were just told where to get it! After lots of fighting we got it for 200 rupees. The driver took us to this place and worked really hard to find us a flag and it was only 40 rupees! Yay! It was great.

When he bought us back to the ship there was a train running. We paid him, and he asked for more He told us our Indian money is useless now since we are leaving. There were beggars too. I hadn't really given to beggars (I gave a water bottle the night before), and knew I would get swarmed but I gave a few dollars (in rupees) and got really swarmed.

Since there was a train running, there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Swarmed with beggars who all knew we were leaving and that we had money. A boy gave me the same “no mama, no papa” speech but I wasn't going to give anymore. SAS told us to be careful about beggars. I had ignored enough and didn't really feel that bad, and I felt worse after I gave an old woman and two small boys and then denied everyone else.

This boy poked and prodded me the whole time the train was running, while I kept my conversation going with my friends. Once the train passed, he really grabbed my arm. He was also carrying a monkey and was asking for the monkey and for him. It sounded like he was asking for milk, which I obviously couldn't give him. We just kept walking until we were in the port, which was our safe zone.
I have to say I didn't feel too bad not giving to the beggars. In fact, I felt worse giving to some and then not giving to others. I donated to HIV/AIDS kind of stuff in the stores which was enough for me. I'm not sure if I should feel bad or not, it's a very strange feeling that you cannot explain even if you've experienced it.

India was amazing. The culture seeps out of every nook and cranny of this country. It is crazy to think that there is so much of this country I did not see. I felt that way about every country, but this one especially. There are over 20 states, many festivals, languages, and so many people I did not get to meet. I will come back to India one day, I know I will. I AM changed since India. I don't know how, but I can feel that I have changed. I guess we'll have to see.

Incredible !ndia (part 4): Grass and Sand

Another early morning for my trip called “Rural India and Heritage Village.”

Our program for the “rural India” portion of the trip was twofold. The first village we stopped in was a little more urban than a completely rural village, with some business and small buildings. We were there during a festival, and people were shaving their heads and painting them in celebration. Everyone was happy to see us, introducing themselves and saying hello. We saw some abandoned houses that were built in 1931 and other long-ago dates. Our guide told us that those houses will most likely be knocked down in favor of business, as the economy grows.

The next part of the rural India trip was a village. This village was a great experience, meeting men and women of all ages living there. We saw where they get their water, where they worship, and someone even let us all into his house so we could see bedrooms, the kitchen, and the worship room. Letting us into the worship room was unheard of. After the tour, he gave us tea.

Then they put us on cow-drawn carts and drove us around the village, children coming out of orange and lime-green houses and straw huts to see us. They smiled, laughed, ran with the cows and asked for our names in the very little English that they knew. They were in awe at us, maybe because of our skin and maybe because of our very presence. An old man just sat and stared at us.

They took us to where the coconut trees are, and there were droves of them, all lined up perfectly. They demonstrated how they climb with and without ropes, and I tried it. I didn't get very far, and they spotted me, but it was a lot of fun. They also cracked open some and let us drink out of them.

The sheer happiness of these people to see us was one of the greatest things so far on this trip. I feel like I have a better understanding of rural life in India.

Following this was the Heritage Village, which is more like a museum, showing off different types of houses from all over south India. The entire day was exhausting, but there's more.

Remember the Indian guys we met the night before? And how we scheduled to see a movie? Well, we decided not to see a movie but just to go out and get some food. So all 7 of us from the night before took a taxi ride out to Elliot's Beach (yeah, Dad, I got a picture) to a place called Planet Yumm, which was a food court and arcade. As silly as it sounds, it's a really popular place. Shiva wasn't there because his mom wanted him home to do homework (some things are the same no matter where you are in the world. But in his defense- college students in India are not as independent as US college students), and another friend named Mahon came too.

Tejas said not to feel bad if I don't eat Indian food because I must have had enough by now. I ate a chicken burger and smiley french fries. We got ice cream and hung out on the beach, sharing stories and laughs, then they called us a taxi. Upon leaving, they gave us little gifts: each person got a scarf and a little card! It was an unbelievable treat that made me really appreciate the power of welcoming people. We had an emotional goodbye as we got in the cab and went back to the ship the long way because the cab driver made a mistake.

I have decided that in each port, when I can, I need to find the University and walk around the campus and meet students. The best part of this trip was meeting people our age and having them take us around and show us what India is for them. I have friends in India now, and they have friends in the US. If I continue this, I will have friends all over the world. These guys made our trip infinitely, so thank you Tejas, Tarun, Shiva, and Mahon. Thank you for your generosity, hospitality, and friendship. Thank you.

Incredible !ndia (part 3): A Day in Chennai, A Night at the Movies

We rolled out of bed moderately late (like 10 AM) to grab breakfast and head out to Spencer's Plaza. We caught rickshaws, once again, and it was so much fun!

Spencer's was nothing like I thought it was going to be. They described it to us as a mall, which, technically, it was. But it was more like a giant bazaar with three stories all under one roof. Store after store after store of anything you could possibly want, from traditional Indian décor to CDs to cell phones to Zippo lighters. Food, drinks, ice cream, and lots and lots of people. Isaiah mentioned how culture kind of seeps into everything here. This place was a wonderful example. The smells and sights really still were India, not like the mall in Cape Town which was really western.

I bought my sister a scarf (yes, stephanie, I had a girl help me out, I hope it's good), and some books, including a book about Hinduism, and some CDs. I got a CD (Actually, a 3 disc set) for 160 rupees which is around $3.20. The artist—A.R. Rahman, the man who did the Slumdog music. The guy is one of the most prolific composers in India, and they call him “The Mozart of Madras” Madras being the former name of Chennai. He was the sole breadwinner of his family when he was 5 years old and always had a talent for music. He studied in the UK and has written music for many films. Every Indian I have met said that Slumdog is amazing work but he is more famous for other things here. So, I bought three discs worth of his music.

After Spencer's we walked around and asked directions for the post office to buy stamps. We found a nice man who asked us where we were from. We told his SAS, and he took us to the post office and got us stamps (with our money, not his, he just talked for us). When I tried to give him some money for taking us around he said “I am not a guide, I'm a cab driver.”

He took us to a shop where I bought two pieces of Indian handmade sculptures of Hindu gods while this guy brought us his rickshaws. He must get some sort of commission from the shop, but we all got 10% discount on anything, and 20% if we bought a bed sheet set. Some girls bought the bed sheet, but I stuck with my two things. The people working gave us all drinks for free and were very hospitable.

Hospitality seems to be the theme of this entire India experience.

When the man came back (I forgot his name and it was hard to remember) he gave us a deal on the rickshaws and showed us a bag full of postcards from other SAS students, dating really far back, at least to 1993. He was so proud to have been a part of so many people's lives and I feel lucky to have been able to meet him.

After a short break, a group of seven of us including Isaiah and Ari (you may remember Ari from our Table Mountain experience) met up with three Indian students named Shiva, Tejas, and Tarun. I had met Shiva at the welcome reception but our friend Holly had stayed in touch with Tejas who brought these guys along.

We met up at the movies (which had 8 screens...HUGE for India) and the only one available was “Thee,” a movie that we saw on the share and learn board not to go see. We went. And left at intermission. But you must understand—it is supposed to be bad. No one expects it to be good. Here's the scoop on this movie:

India is divided up into many states, each state with it's own language. Where we are in Chennai is in Tamil Nadu, and everything around here is in the local language Tamil, including this film. Tamil Nadu releases at least three Tamil movies a week, and this “Thee” was one of them. It only gets viewed, basically, in this city. It is shot on crappy stuff (it looked like a home video or some kind of porno) had ridiculous sound effects and music, and a silly plot that (though I could follow it) really didn't make any sense. They just pump it out, put a hot girl in it (Shiva said the actress is like a Jessica Simpson type) make a bunch of money and then disappear.

It is so funny because they said “buy us tickets we will meet you there” so we bought tickets and told them “hey, we're seeing Thee” and they were like “grrrrreeat.” Isaiah and I decided it is the equivalent of us meeting Indian tourists in the US and telling them to get us tickets and then they say “yay! We got tickets to Epic Movie!”

But we would go and enjoy ourselves. And here, we did, and the experience was a lot of fun. The spices on the popcorn were great! In fact, the popcorn was only $2. They told us that that was really expensive for popcorn, but we told them that it's like $5 dollars where we come from.

After the movie (leaving at intermission) we walked to a restaurant, and while we were waiting for the table, some workers in the back were staring at us, wide-eyed. They stared just like everyone else. Not as if they want us to leave, or that they are scared or upset. The way they look at us is like “wow. We are graced with the presence of Americans. Oh, and check out that white skin.” Chennai doesn't get much tourism, so it's special.

Dinner was awesome. Our new Indian friends helped us pick out food, and I tried everything. EVERYTHING. It's so good. I tried this chutney, this bread, this cheese, this veggie, it was great. We took pictures and traded e-mails, wrote names in Hindi, English, Tamil, and I wrote their names in Hebrew. And then all three of them said they would pay for us, and we declined. It was tough, but we managed to get them to let us pay for ourselves. Then we tried to sneak in money for them but they paid too quickly.

If you guys are reading this, I can't thank you enough for how much you made me and everyone else feel so welcome and comfortable. I felt less like a tourist and more like a traveler because of your helpfulness and hospitality.

There's that word again.

We made plans to get together again the following night, to see a real Indian film. They called a taxi but it was going to take too long, so they regretfully put us on the rickshaws.

The students really made our night, and meeting people is by far the best thing ever. Especially students. More on this later.

I've included a photo, I hope you can see it. From left to right: Isaiah, Tarun, Tejas, Me, and Shiva.

Incredible !ndia : Temples and Mario Kart

This morning we got an early start, waking up at 6 AM to grab breakfast and get on a bus at 7 AM for our giant day trip of visiting two cities called Kancheeparum and Mamalaparum.

The two-hour westward drive from Chennai to Kancheeparum consisted of taking a nap in the back of the bus and swatting small mosquitoes. We arrived in Kancheeparum around 9:30. It is a more rural town, with some dirt roads and lots of cows and goats. It is known as “the land of a thousand temples.” It's pretty much true. Everywhere you look there was another Hindu temple.

We went into two temples. The first was was outside, not covered, and we took off our shoes and walked around. Though it was mostly stone-colored, everything used to be painted but over the hundreds of years that it had been there the color wore off. Chiseled into the rocks were inscriptions in Sanskrit as well as sculptures of the various Hindu gods. Each carving had a story behind it. For instance, one of them showed a god whose leg was bent way up by his head, smiling, and dancing. The story goes that he was challenged by a dancer and showed off his skill. In the middle of the temple was a room we were not allowed to go into, but we saw the idol inside.

The second temple, which was a Shiva temple, was much bigger. It was covered and wasn't directly exposed to the sun so it was a little darker and a little more dank. On the way to it, we saw a painting representing how that particular temple was made: the story goes that Parvati, Shiva's wife, covered his eyes, and darkness fell over the world. In order to make up for the darkness she caused, Shiva sent her down to earth to plant a mango tree and build a temple. We saw that mango tree, which is supposedly 3500 years old.

Once again, within the middle of the temple was a room only Hindus could enter, so we went around it. We saw a small cage with 9 idols, each representing a planet in the solar system. There were also lines of an idol that represents Shiva and Parvati, and very abstractly represents the male/female genitalia.

I am fascinated by the Hindu religion. The imagery is stunning and powerful and the legends and history are strong and rich. I hope to educate myself more on Hindu during this trip and when I get back to the US. The trip to the temples helped to take away a lot of the mystery of Hinduism, but opened up many more doors for understanding.

After the temples we went to a silk shop and then got on the bus and drove to the next city, Mamalaparum. The first thing we did was stop for lunch and I tried a lot of new Indian food and it was all very good. I was told they dumbed down the spices for us, for which I was thankful, but I could have taken a little bit more of a punch.

They brought us to what we thought was a playground because it was swarming with children. We greeted them all Namaste and they loved it. We took lots of pictures. One kid went around asking “what is name? What is name?”and didn't even give us a chance to answer. The kids were all climbing over this stuff so we did too and when we left an Indian woman seemed mad at us and told us that they are very old monuments and we need to set a better example. I felt horrible, because the impression I wanted to leave was not one of disgracing holy monuments.

Then they took us to a natural body of water, clean (they said), where we could swim if we wanted. Of course we wanted to wade, it was so hot and we were all sweaty. Some people splashed their faces and some went in a little more. There was a cliff that was pretty high, probably around 30 feet, straight up on one side and a staircase on the other side to walk up and jump. Isaiah and I jumped off of the cliff and into the water! It was one of the most exhilarating things we have ever done. I'm totally kidding, mom and Joan. None of that happened. this entire paragraph is fiction.

Before leaving, we visited the shore temple, a temple that is literally on the shore of a beach, separated only by some trees and rocks. The part where we could walk was outside, and the room in the middle was closed (not that we would be able to go in anyway).

The annoying guys on the street trying to sell you stuff here seem much more desperate than any other street vendors I have seen. It seems as if they really NEED this stuff to survive, not just trying to make a quick buck. I ended up buying an Om necklace for 30 rupees (like 60 cents) and a really cool elephant sculpture for $2. We bought from this particular vendor because we saw the people actually making these things by hand, right in front of us.

The bus drove us back to the ship, where we had a quick dinner, and then I went out for a friend's birthday.

There were 8 of us for Julia's birthday, and we were going to the Park Hotel for a nice dinner. Our transportation of choice were the auto-rickshaws. They are the cheapest form on transportation available, and for good reason. They are a three-wheeled automobile, it can fit three people in the back, one in the front next the driver, whose steering wheel is more like a motorcycle's handlebars.

The driving in India is crazy. It is more of a give-and-take system where when you can scoot by someone, you just go. People drive against traffic all the time. The best way I can describe it is ordered chaos. It seems like everyone is doing their own thing but there is a sense of organization about it. It is Mario Kart.

So there were four of us in each rickshaw. They try to charge you way too much; we were told that it shouldn't be more than 50 rupees for the ENTIRE car, but we say 50 rupees per person. They try to rip us off but we eventually get it our way. 200 rupees for a trip is a great deal.

So we got two rickshaws. A quarter of the way through our drive, we make a daring left turn and pull over. One of their buddy rickshaws needed some help because he was out of gas. So, the other rickshaw full of our friends drove behind the broken one and the driver put his foot out and pushed the other one. That's right, PUSHED him down the streets. We were driving behind this one too, so we are sort of in a triangle formation and creeping into the lane of oncoming traffic. Then we split up because they took him to a gas station.

So we turn down a sidestreet to wait for the other rickshaw, and the driver asks our friend next to him, Spencer, if he wanted to drive. At first he was terrified, but he gave it a try. The driver gave him some pointed and he drove a little bit.

They don't really stop at stop signs and as soon as a traffic light turns green everybody starts honking. The honking! Everyone honks, and I feel like when I get back to the US I won't hear honking which is dangerous.

We made it to the restaurant safely, and had a great dinner. They gave us a free cake for Julia's birthday. This restaurant and the hotel was known for their chocolate devil's food cake, and it was REALLY REALLY good. I also had a garlic type of bread called garlic naan which was also really good.

Our rickshaw drive back was not nearly as heart-racing as our ride there, but it felt even more like a video game. On the way to the port, there was a giant line of trucks trying to get into the gate, with enough room to their left for a rickshaw, so our driver decided to drive in this little strip of road. It was like an X-Wing in the Death Star. But it turns out we couldn't get in that gate so we went AGAINST TRAFFIC to backtrack to a place we could turn around.

They dropped us off a ways from the port and we had to walk quite a ways. We passed a few beggars and it is very difficult to ignore them, but that is the only thing to do. Some child beggars work for people, and we are told that if we want to help there poor there are a number or reputable charities to which we can donate.

We made it back safe and sound, another great day in India.

Incredible !ndia

On the side of the tourism buses here, they say "Incredible !ndia"and then underneath it says "The Mantra to Woo Tourist"

That's hilarious, and had to use it to title my blog.

So.

Before every port we have a cultural pre-port, where we learn about the culture and customs of the country, and a logistical pre-port, where we learn about the logistics of the port like security, food, safety, which side of the ship the gangway is, et cetera.

At the logistical pre-port before India, Les McCabe, the executive dean, told us that of all the countries SAS students go, they say India changes them the most. He told us to be prepared to be changed, because India is something special.

Today I went to see the MICE (Mobile Interactive Computer Ensemble, a group/class of electronic music on the ship) performance. I had no idea that it was a performance at SRM, a University in Chennai. What I was expecting was a small MICE concert, but what I got was a chance to meet many Indian university students.

When we got there they gave us bindi, which is the mark in between the eyes that you see on many Indian people, as well as a flower. We walked into the auditorium where MICE was to perform, and it was filled with Indian students. They said “Please give a hearty welcome to our American friends!” And every head turned our direction and we were given a huge round of applause. They had saved us front row seats and I sat in front of some Indian students with whom I had some great conversations.

After the performance, we went back up to a conference room where we signed a visitors notebook and had refreshments. They passed a microphone around and I said that their hospitality was incredible. I also said something that astounded me. We showed up, and we're treated like celebrities; we are foreign and new to them. But to us, THEY are the celebrities! So we are each seeing each other as something special.

Though it was short, these students were not unlike me and friends that I have, except they are all majoring in engineering, technology, or computer science. More often than not, they want to pursue their graduate education somewhere in the United States. Why? Because it's the land of opportunity. Not all of them wanted to stay in the US though, but a lot of them did.

They came from different places in the country, which is divided up into states kind of like the US. Each state has a different language, so most students speak English (or other western language) Hindi, and then an assortment of native languages or state-specific languages.

But the main event was the welcome reception. Not an hour after getting back from the MICE show we hopped on another bus and went to a courtyard somewhere in the city where we were greeted with drums, flowers, and another bindi. Mine got put a little up and left from where it was supposed to be, but that's not a big deal. In the courtyard was dancing, shopping, and lots of food. But more importantly, we were greeted “namaste” by droves of excited, friendly, and happy Indian college students.

I ate some food. The names are hard to remember, but it was all very good. I took a big hunk of some chutney that was spicy and the guy I was sitting with, Nabil, thought it was funny because to him it's not spicy at all. I didn't use silverware, just my hands, to scoop up the food and put it in my mouth. I didn't even have a table, just the plate, and the plate was generous; the tradition is to eat off of a banana leaf on the floor. (what's with me and the semi-colons? That's like the second one I've used).

I spoke to guys and girls alike, but after a while I had gotten deep in conversation with a few guys. One of the most fascinating things was the difference in marriage. In India, marriages are arranged. They told us that at the pre-port and all that stuff but it was interested to hear the process:

The parents can present a possible bride to their son, who then goes to the bride's house as she speaks for a while. If there is a mutual feeling of possibility, they will get married. If not, then it is nothing rude, the families will politely decline.

They were surprised by how we date and have relationships before marriage. To us, marriage is the last step. To them, it's the first. But there is a lot less pressure on it when your family plays a large role in deciding who you marry. They really trust their parents to find someone good, and if the son or daughter doesn't like the other person, then it's a no-go. Every family in India is huge and the parental/familial support is a major part of every Indian's life.

In the US, marriage is much easier to come by. Two people who can decide to get married, and if it doesn't work out or they run into problems, divorce. The end. Many more broken families in the US. In India, divorce is very rare. If there are familial problems with a new marriage, the families will work together to make it work.

I always found that the children who were more successful in school were the ones who had a much more solid family life. This may explain why so many more careers, such as doctors, are Indians. In fact, as I have been watching sitcoms that span over the last 20 years, the doctors on shows like Seinfeld and Friends (largely 90s shows) were obviously old Jewish guys. But now, on more modern shows like How I Met Your Mother, the doctors are Indians or other east-Asians.

Are Americans lazy? Maybe. But the emphasis on family that I have seen in the Indian culture really made me thing about my future as a husband and a father. I like to think that my family is pretty strong, and that is a value I will pass on.

Another thing our friends Nabil, DJ (short for a D name and a J name that I cannot remember and if I could I wouldn't be able to type them out), and Hari spoke to us about was how everyone is so friendly. They want to meet us just as we want to meet them. Someone at a post-port reflections after South Africa mentioned how in SA everyone was so friendly, accepting us as tourists and helping us, and how sometimes in the US we scoff at them and watch them as they get lost instead of helping them. I brought this up with these guys and I told them that their hospitality has inspired me to, when I see tourists, really reach out a helping hand.

Nabil told us to take India back home by remembering their culture and their customs, and being friendly to all we meet, just as they are. I told him I wish I could pick up India and take it back into my home. But he said something different.

“Pick up India and put it in your heart.”

On the first day of India, I am already in love with it, and I already know I am going to be sad to leave.

Slumblog Millionaire

After the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, they showed Slumdog Millionare. For those of you who live under a rock, it won Best Picture this year.

I watched it and loved it. I thought it was much better than No Country for Old Men (last year's best picture). In fact, I thought it was better than a lot of the movies that have been recently nominated for Best Picture in the last few years. Finally, a beautiful, simple, love story wins the Academy Award, not something that breaks the mold. I'm not saying breaking the mold is bad, I enjoyed No Country and other films that don't stick to a typical formula, but it's nice to see the classical Hollywood structure win an Academy Award.

This is only in terms of the structure of the script. The film was beautifully shot and acted and everything that Best Picture deserves. And I loved the film. Not only because it engaged me and all that stuff, but as a screenwriter I found that the script was really good, and incredibly well structured, and that's kind of what I want to talk about in this blog.

STOP READING NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT.

I would not describe this movie as “a story about a child from the slums of India who wins a million dollars on the millionaire show in India and why he knew the answer to each question” This is how it was originally described to me, and my original reaction was “whoopty do” I already read that story. It's called “The View From Saturday”and won a Newberry Award.

I would describe this film as “a story about a child from the slums of India who chases the girl of his destiny, framed by his appearance on the millionaire show”

Jamal only went on the millionaire show to get Latika's attention, to find her. He didn't go on the show to win the money. It was purely destiny, i.e. “It is written”that he knew the answer to each question. The way it was originally described to me made it seem like the kid goes on the show to win the money, he's smart, yay, and that's the end. The way it really is is that he never cared about the money, he was just in love.

I am willing to bet that all the major turning points in the film (and my turning points I mean when we got from Act I into Act II and from Act II into Act III) have to do with Jamal's pursuit of Latika, rather than any tension in the millionaire show. If you take out all of the millionaire show footage, you would see a love story, where boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, while overcoming immense hardship in his own life.

What I'm really trying to say is that the structure of this film was impeccable, and I learned a lot from it. I was thoroughly impressed with the film and am very, very glad that it won Best Picture. It reminded me why I love to write, and has furthered my inspiration to pursue it as a career.

Can't Torch This

After we were all back on the ship after our various Mauritius adventures, the Sea Olympics began. We lit the sea olympics torch in our opening ceremonies, where each sea-

Hold on. Back up. Some background info.

The cabins on the ship are divided into seas, much like halls in a regular dorm. They are named after seas, such as the Mediterranean Sea, Bearing Sea, and my personal sea, the Yellow Sea. Each sea as an LLC, aka a “learning-living coordinator” who is usually a professional in some kind of working-with-people field and range in all ages. They are really awesome people. Mine is named Laurie, which is weird to call her Laurie because my mom's name is Lori which is a name I almost never say.

Ok, back to story.

-presents a flag, cheer, and mascot. Our theme was Yellow Fever, like the disease. I was a co-captain for our sea, and I was also the mascot. I went shirtless, and had post-its all over me. Our catch-phrase “no cure no hope”was written on larger post-its on my chest and the countless symptoms of the disease were written on smaller ones all over my body. I had band-aids here and there, a bloody nose, black vomit collecting in the corner of my mouth, and a bandage on my head. We presented our cheer and flag and it was awesome.

The next day was full of events like volleyball, work-out relay, pictionary, sudoku, everything for athletic people and brainy people. The seas were really into it and it was a whole lot of fun. My sea ended up taking third place, tied with two other seas out of the 10 seas there were total. The faculty and staff, some kids and lifelong learners (people who have paid to go on this voyage and continue their lifelong quest for knowledge) were in a sea called the “Oddies-C” which is a really cute pun. The professors beat me and my team mate at sudoku by a millisecond. I was sad. Oh well.

For the first time during the whole trip, I had a moment where I actually thought about home and friends and things I've left behind. I have learned that I don't really miss things when I am away, but during the synchronized swimming competition, I remembered Newsies and the Goofy Movie performances and during the Olympics as a whole I remembered camp and Maccabiah. And I thought about them both. So for everyone back at Chapman, Newsies, and Camp people, I officially say hello and thanks for some wonderful memories.

Delicious Mauritius

For those of you who don't know what or where Mauritius is (as I didn't prior to this voyage) it is a small island not too far from the east coast of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. It was colonized by Dutch, French, and English people but now currently has mostly Indians living there.

We stopped in Port Louis, Mauritius for one day only. It was basically a day off of school. After the diplomatic meeting, Isaiah, Butters, Taylor, and I headed off for our catamaran and snorkeling adventure. The bus ride took about an hour and at around 10 or 10 30 we got on one of four catamarans full of students from SAS.

This was one of the most relaxing experiences ever. We hovered out in the Indian Ocean, with the clearest blue water I have ever seen, snorkeling, jumping, swimming, socializing, tanning, and hanging out with professors. That's right, some professors came, including the academic dean Reg Garrett (with whom I got a few pictures) who took a pretty daring jump off of the side of a catamaran, and my personal marine biology teacher John Kastendiek, who helped me identify some creatures we found in the ocean.

Never would I have ever had an experience to go snorkel with a professor, who could tell me what I am seeing right then and there, and remind me that we did, in fact, learn about them. I think it was a good call on our part to take a marine biology class while we're out on the ocean. It just seemed like a cool thing to do, and after seeing things in the ocean that I had learned about, I felt more knowledgeable about the marine world.

We were on the catamaran from 10 until 4-ish. The lunch they gave us consisted of garlic bread, potatoes and onions, rice, skewered beef and some kind of fish. I ate it all. Yes mom, fish too.

After the catamaran we went quickly into town by way of water taxi to buy patches and flags and various other souvenirs, and retreated back to the ship for a BBQ by the pool.

We weren't in Mauritius very long, but I really enjoyed it. I got a small taste of the culture but a larger taste of the tropical marine life, and I don't feel bad about taking some time away from learning about the people of nation in favor of learning about the marine life of a nation.